milliways_bar | (no subject)

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[From here.]

"YES!"

And the scent of Napthalot, the sweet scent of Napthalot, a thick, heavy scent; nothing delicate about it, but nothing wrong either. It is something like the smell of artificial floral perfume; heavier, with bases of other things that change it and ruin the purity, but created with the intent to please, it floods the room.

Choking thick, strangling thick, and there is a swirl of black, and white, and RED even as too-sane laughter rips open the air.

And then the door closes.

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The Endless are supposed to have all the answers, even if they don't always share them.

And...well, hell. Drawing closer to Morpheus...that's about as safe as she can get.

And...

Kaylee's smelled blood, death, entrails, gunpowder, rotting fruit. Flowers, fresh grass, warm bread.

Nothing quite like this.

He places a hand around her shoulders, and looks at the door in shock.

This is probably not reassuring.

If what happened, happened, then the very least problem is that he is fragmented.

Dale's Earth is in far more trouble than he is.

"You are not harmed?"

He always comes.

In here, he always comes.

She takes a deep breath. Releases it. Shakes her head. "No. No -- I'm fine..."

"What was that?"

And...

What about Simon and River?

"That was Bob."

He says, and then,

"And Nyarlathotep."

Bob...

Kaylee doesn't know a Bob.

Nyarlathotep, though...

She's more than a little pale. "Reckon I see Wash's point about him." Kaylee swallows. "That...are Simon and River okay? Is there somethin' they ought to know?"

"They are fine."

He assures her, a comforting hand still on her shoulder,

"It was trying to manipulate you."

There is no reason he should tell her why. She is safe, that is what matters.

She leans her head against him. Just for a moment.

"...this whole 'bein' nice to folks and then havin' 'em try to pull somethin' horrible' thing is gettin' real old." Resignedly.

"I know."

He tells her, giving a gentle squeeze,

"You deserve better."

This makes her smile. A little.

Ruefully.

"So does everybody." Kaylee looks up at him. "Thank you for comin'. I mean, I know you would anyhow, but -- from my side of it, it...means a lot. Still."

"I know, Kaylee."

It takes him a few seconds, and then he looks down at her with a faint smile,

"You are welcome, of course. You mean very much to me."

He may not necessarily be the tactile type; Kaylee is. This is why she hugs him. Because sometimes words aren't anywhere near enough.

Then, quietly: "Figure you'll get it if I think I want to spend the rest of tonight at home, huh."

"I understand entirely."

He says without any sort of upset at all,

"I am sorry that you were exposed to this."

Any of it.

"It's Milliways." Just a little wry. "This kind of thing happens. And...it might've been worse. Has been before."

If she's around Morpheus, she's safe.

And in Milliways...Morpheus is always around. In one way or another.

Which is why this time it's all right.

Kaylee looks up at him, with just a little more than half a smile. "See you around?"

"Of course."

Because he is always around, if she's here. All she has to do is ask him to be a little more around.

"Sweet dreams, Kaylee."

"Xiexie."

She grins at him -- because coming from other people, it's a wish, but from him it tends to be a promise -- and reaches for the door.

No sycamore trees outside this one.

Just a corridor and recycled air, and somewhere somebody's making a late-night snack. Home.

Indy is lounging over by the fireplace. There's a beer. There's a good view of the bar. And there's still that unmistakable air of happiness about him. Life is truly good right now. He settles back into the luxurious cushioning and draws in a very contented breath.

A familiar scent wafts by. He can't quite place it at first.

Then it's overpowering. And for a second or two, that swallow of beer takes on the thick, salty-sweet taste of blood, filling his mouth and lying heavy in his throat.

And then it's gone.

That blissful expression drops away from his face. Color still leeching from his cheeks, his stomach now disturbingly clenched, Indy checks fearfully around the bar. Nothing seems particularly untoward. But... did it ever... back then?

He doesn't drink any more of the beer.

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