From the Embers - Kidman/Flag

(Alternate ending to Resonating. NOT CANON!) Kidman jolted awake and grabbed Flag’s arm, instinctively reacting to his body’s call for aid. She knew she shouldn’t respond, but she let a small amount of energy pass to him despite. Linking was easy now, and she allowed herself a small smile at the confirmation that she had successfully managed to seal the wound before he had torn her away. The first thing Flag felt when Kidman grabbed his arm was annoyance at the fact that she didn't complete her task of reclaiming the pendant. The next thing that he noticed was that it was no longer burning him. He chose to ponder on that for the briefest moment before he realized that the brat was next to him. "You can stop." He informed her without moving. The girl slowly let go but stayed near. “Did your plan work?” She asked softly. "It seems to have." He said as he rolled to inspect the object he held. “Now what?” "Stop asking questions. I can't think." Kidman sighed and gazed at the pendant in his hand. Her mind was blown out and burnt, but she could still pick up the diamond’s new aura, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. After another failed attempt at standing, she turned away from him and listened to the sound of distant cars passing in the night. The dream came back to her. She had healed the mouse after all, she remembered. Kidman held up her hand close to her face as the abandoned bank fell into shadow. A small mark by her thumbnail was still visible, where it had bitten her eons before and her heart froze in her chest. This hadn’t been a dream. It was a memory. She could hear him taking in a deep breath before he pulled his arms in so that he could lift and prop himself up on his elbows. He kept his head lowered both because he lacked the effort to lift it and he was looking over his creation. "We're gonna have to leave this place soon." Kidman nodded absently as fragments of memory dislodged by the ritual fluttered around her like grim confetti. With great effort she shoved the mess away and rubbed her shoulder where Flag had gouged his fingers in. “What did you do?” she asked, almost afraid to know. "Helped you live up to your potential." Flag griped before pushing himself sideways into a somewhat haphazard sitting position. He set the amulet down on the ground between himself and Kidman so that he could rub at his temples. It's glow was gone and the gem's sparkle along with it. It seemed faded and closer inspection would show that the four parts of the once flawless diamond were now riddled with inclusions. “Awfully nice of you...” The girl breathed out sarcastically, but was surprised to find that it wasn’t fully so. She rolled on her side and gazed at the amulet, then at the weakened sorcerer she had held back from death. “When we first met., I wanted to tell you what I was, but I didn’t trust you yet. Still, just knowing you existed made me feel like I wasn’t alone.” She picked up the diamond in her hand. It looked just like her now. “I know you don’t care for me, Flag, but I wish you did.” "Why? So I can be another of your VILE babysitters?" Even in a weakened state, he could roll his eyes. "Grow up." Kidman laughed. “Babysitters? If by ‘babysit’ you mean being allowed a thin ledge to cling to, then yes, you can consider yourself one already.” She managed to drag herself into a sitting position, but soon slumped over. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Flag’s journal on the floor, filled with potent knowledge. “You make it sound so easy, to just ‘grow up’, but it’s not so when you have nothing. Not just temporarily like it is for you now, but always.” Kidman looked at Flag’s deep black robes, the length of ornate clasps that ran down it, the way his hair was always so beautiful, even now. The differences between them were galling and she hunched over, exposing her scarred wrists and arms as she wrapped them about her knees. “I was a slave to science for the first twenty years of my life.” She said into the floor. “Then I was either abandoned or worse, still being hunted because of what I am. I’ve been managing in VILE’s shadow for the past decade, alone. Managing… but not growing.” Had it not been for his lack of energy, he was have finally slapped the ingrate. Instead he loosed a quiet, mirthless laugh at his own situation before he spoke in an equally abhorrent tone. We have a lot in "common," He glared at her even though he knew she couldn't see it "but the big difference between us is that I have no sense of entitlement to the hospitality of others. How you can expect charity - especially being former slave as you claim - is well beyond my understanding." Disgusted, he made for a failed attempt at standing. "VILE's shadow provides food and a home. If you call that 'nothing,' then you're delusional and will never be satisfied." With that Kidman went silent. Her memories of VILE, even the worst ones, stood out with far more colour and life than the metallic-tasting ghosts that returned to her now. “You’re right.” She smiled bitterly and let herself fall back onto the floor. “I hate it, but you’re right.” --- She didn’t know how they managed to get back to the hotel, but after a few skips in memory they were in their room, with Flag taking the bed by the window as per usual. For all his curt and crankiness towards the girl, he did honor the smaller things, such as letting her choose her spot by the window on the plane, and conversely, the bed by the bathroom in hotels. He wasn’t all bad, Kidman decided. Despite the insanity of it, she was becoming attached to him. Something in the way he worded his retort in the bank bothered her, and after a few moments of debate, she lay horizontally across her overly starched comforter and picked her words. “Flag…. Before, when you ragged me out, you sounded like you knew… what it was like to be owned.” Flag was exhausted, which was an expected side effects of a near death experience. Yet, despite this, he was unable to sleep and so he sat up when the girl spoke her inquiry. "I do." Kidman felt something twist in the pit of her stomach. “What happened?” He shrugged and vaguely looked for the remote control for the television. As usual, he was shirtless for bed, but the scars on his back - that had occasionally shown through his mass of hair - took on new meaning. "What do you mean?'" “Your scars….Flag, how did you get yours?” She sat up in bed to summon a bit more courage. “How did you get captured?” "So you want my life story? " he spotted the remote on the dresser next to the tv and gave up on trying to drown Kidman out with electronic noise. "Somebody killed my mother when I was really small and sold me into service.  The scars are from a multitude of people. I don't even know the reasons behind all of them anymore." Kidman dropped her gaze to the beige carpet, each twisted loop seeming more pronounced than before. “How did you get away?” "I didn't... really." He slumped back into his pillows, frowning as he remembered certain details that he chose to omit. "I was eventually sold to an upstart military, where I met the woman that would be my wife. She negotiated my release." The girl smiled slightly at this, happy the man had known some peace in his life. “I say… Did you ever find the person that sold you?” The sorcerer shook his head as that person was but a footnote in his life and rolled over, too tired to care that the girl now had full view of the scars previously mentioned. "Never thought to seek them out." They were old and she couldn’t feel them calling at all. “The scars, do they hurt?” He shrugged again. "They itch sometimes." “I could...get rid of some of them for you.” Kidman said slowly. He twisted to face her over his shoulder.  "No... you couldn't. " he said in all seriousness,  indicating that he has been aware of his body’s initial rejection of her earlier. "Wouldn't be worth the effort anyway. They don't really bother me." Kidman rolled off the bed with a sigh and shuffled to the window, not entirely concerned about her half-dressed state being visible to the outside world. Beyond the glass was the river, smooth and black over which spanned a trestle bridge cast in a luminous blue. Beyond it a Wells Fargo rose into the night like a starship from the future while ambient city light sparkled in the many mirrored buildings surrounding it. And beyond that, the place everything changed. She glanced at Flag via his reflection in the glass. He was different to her now; still the same menacing, gruff man as before, but dearer to her. She had held him at his most vulnerable, rebirthed him through herself, felt his life with hers, felt his pain with hers. He was part of her, and more than anything she wanted to make his pain go away. But he’d never allow it. Kidman sat on the edge on his bed with her back to him, still gazing out the window. “Have you always had magick?” He frowned when she stepped into his field of vision and opened the window. "I think so." “Why didn’t you use it to get away? Or did they think of that…?” Giving up again, he sat up and angled to get off of the bed towards the other side of the room - where the mini bar was. "Yeah... I was spellbound before I even had an idea that I could do anything." Kidman touched her shoulder and frowned. There was already a bruise forming there, but she wasn’t surprised. She bruised over everything. “How did you undo it?” Flag shot her a sideways glance before he shook his head and stood up. "Again, I didn't until I was in the military." She had more questions, endless questions, but she could see she was annoying him, and now more than ever feared pushing him away. Kidman hastily threw on some clothes and headed for the door. “I’m sorry for all the.... Look, I’m going to go out for a while so…. Good night…” Had he not been in the middle of a stretch,  he would have shrugged. "Whatever. I'm gonna see if there's something to help me sleep in there." He gestured towards the mini bar. "Flip the latch when you return." “Right mate…” And with that she was gone. --- But she couldn’t get very far. Just getting to the elevator had been exhausting, but Kidman was determined to give him some space, and she needed just a moment to clear her head. In the lobby she bought a muffin and a fist full of Slim Jims, then managed to track down a packet of sleeping pills. “What I would give to be able to take these…” she muttered as she slumped in a somewhat uncomfortable mauve armchair. For a while she did nothing but study the lobby plants, mentally pruning them and tracing patterns in the carpet. Sleep tapped at her but she pushed it back. The girl knew she needed the rest, but if the night had shown her terrors before, they would be monstrosities now. She could already feel them creeping in the corners of her vision, a man with glasses and a strange smile, something cold, wrapping around her- Kidman swore herself awake and was immediately thankful that only the night janitor was there to hear it. With a vicious sigh she dragged herself from the chair, and after a few failed attempts found her way back to the room. The girl knocked first before stumbling back inside, flipped the latch, and tossed the food and pills on the bed. “I come bearing gifts.” Kidman murmured, then entered the bathroom and shut the door. Sleep wasn’t an option, so she turned the shower on with a careless twist of the knobs and shed her clothes as the room fogged. She was too weak to stand so she lay in the tub, letting the hot water trickle over her as the steady roar drowned her senses. Red lines soon awoke across her pale body, a history of failed attempts to circumvent her will archived in her skin. Kidman touched the bruise on her shoulder, already fading and ringed with a fairness even lighter than her own. Flag had found a way. [He drank about half of the mini bar's contents (there isn't much) and hit the point where he thinks that if he pretends to sleep, he'll eventually do so. If you want Kidman to notice this, you can. Also, he ate the beef jerky while she was in the shower. I'm still trying to figure out the words for this] Kidman fell asleep there, but sleep wasn’t kind, and she reluctantly redressed in boxers and a tank top, also no longer concerned if her scars showed. She glanced at Flag. He looked asleep, but after so many months she could tell when he really was. The girl shrugged, then noticed the jerky was gone. “Blessed be. My offering has been accepted.” she remarked wryly with a hint of a smile. “There are sleeping pills here too, you know.” "I saw." He said flatly into his pillow. After a moment where he seemed to be considering them again, he shook his head. "I drank and those things fuck with me. You can have em." “Hell no. My nightmares are bad enough already.” Kidman replied as she picked at her muffin. “Besides, I’ve decided to never sleep again. Why aren’t you tired? You almost bled out today.” "Oh... I'm tired." He said as he rolled his head on his pillow enough to glance at her. "My thoughts just keep returning to the amulet and the stuff I still have left to do." The girl fell sideways over her bed and let her arms dangle over the edge. “Are you going home?” "That's the intention. " “Can I come too?” The one eye that she could see over his shoulder as he hugged his pillow half closed in the trademark expression he gave her when he would shoot her down. This time was no exception. "It doesn't work that way." “Was worth a shot. Don’t really want to stay here.” She said and swung her legs. “I’d probably fit in better where you’re from. Grey hair, people have majick, you get to wear a cool coat…” "Only the magic part." He shifted so that he was facing the window again. "Enough of this. We should sleep." “We should sleep, shouldn’t we…?” Kidman replied absently, still swinging her legs in an attempt to keep herself awake. “You mean to say no one else has hair like yours? He skirted her question again. "That isn't what I meant. You're so awkward everywhere you are, that you wouldnt fit in there either." Kidman gave him a glancing look of annoyance, then looked at the clock. 2am. She swore inwardly. The night was far too long. “Do you know any spells for getting rid of dreams?” He sat up long enough to toss her one of the bottles of vodka that he hadn't opened, then he collapsed back into his pillows. The girl caught it and laughed. “Does that really work?” "Sometimes, which is better than never. Mornings suck though." “And that is how Kidman became an alcoholic.” Kidman said grandly, then tried to down the bottle and quickly regretted it. “Damn it!” she swore between coughs, but swallowed another gulp stubbornly. “Screw the morning. I want real sleep, the kind where I don’t wake up screaming and throwing myself off the bed.” She managed to finish the shot and went looking for another. “I say, when you were a slave, did you fight back at all? I did. I’m wondering if that was stupid.” "If that's what gained you your freedom, then it wasn't stupid." He cast his gaze out the window and caught sight of a plane flying south before it vanished into the window frame. "I probably could have fought harder,  but people owning people was normal. Every time I did escape, I was caught and returned. Seemed a pointless effort after a while." “I got lucky….” She paused, then smiled as she took a gulp from the next tiny bottle. “I got lucky as hell. Accidently found a VILE safe house shortly after I woke up, and God knows, with how the guys said I was then, I wouldn’t have been free long. As you probably noticed, magic folk aren’t too common here.” Kidman wandered back to her bed, then sat on the floor instead and looked out the window as well. “You should be careful too. You get caught...you’ll get scienced, but I’ll bust you out.” He breathed a smile at both her comment and how quickly the drinks were having an effect on her. "I'm not to concerned about getting caught. I can always get away if I have to." “You’re sure? Because...They can do some terrible things, you know, to make you work. But yeah, you’ll be okay because you can teleport. You think I can learn that? I could try and teach you how to heal things.” Kidman fiddled with her hands. She had seen drunkedness before and had an idea as to what she could expect from this deal with the devil, but it was still a novel experience. "I'm a miserable tutor." The sorcerer held up his hand in a peace sign. Half a second afterwards a spark jumped from one outstretched finger to another. "Besides, I'm now fairly certain this is biological, so I'm not sure I could teach anyone else how to use it." Kidman nodded. “Yeah, probably same with me.” She pulled herself off the floor and tossed herself on the bed. “You know? I don’t see what the problem is with being drunk. I probably look stupid on the outside, but on the inside… I feel kinda good for once. Like I could actually deal with the world, do that stuff you said, like, make up a new life.” She looked at the ceiling. “How did you get here, anyhow?” He raised an eyebrow at the girl, but otherwise said nothing. After a while, it was obvious that he either didn’t know how to, or consciously decided not to, answer the question.