milliways_bar | (no subject)

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autor

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Oswin hasn't been a very good patient lately.

That whole promise to come out of her room sometimes?

Yeah, that hasn't been happening.

She wouldn't be down here now, but one of her bots managed to work itself into a corner behind the trilobite tank and... well.

She felt sorry for it.

So she's down here to talk it back out or, worst comes to worst, she'll drag it out by its metaphorical ears.

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Autor has been missing Oswin, though he'd never admit it. He still needs to collect his cat, so as much as he'd rather avoid her while she thinks he's a hallucination, he needs to see her.

Still, he watches her talk to the bot for quite some time before approaching. "Oswin?" he says, testing the waters.

Oswin, who had been trying to grab a metal leg just out of reach, squeaks like a little girl and falls backwards on her ass.

Such beauty, such grace.

Autor offers her a hand up with a raised brow, unsure if she'll take it or not.

There's a long pause while she considers her options.

To be very honest, screaming like a banshee and hoping someone will come to help is high on the list.

But she's been watching, since her retreat, and things aren't adding up to her perceived reality. She's learned, painfully, to pay attention to that.

Besides. He can't be worse than the Predator.

Cautiously, she takes his hand.

Autor helps her up, tapping her elbow with two fingers. "Hello," he says. "Do you still think I'm a hallucination?"

"... Results are inconclusive." She hedges, still wary. She... it's horrible, she knows it's horrible, she's fully aware of this, but she almost wants this to not be real. Because if he's real, if he's come back, grieving is unnecessary, superfulous. And the emotion all of that grief replaced was fury, and... fury is terrifying.

Fury at him for leaving. For not keeping his promise and leaving. And it really doesn't matter if that's irrational too - just try shifting it.

Autor sighs through his nose. "When will they be conclusive?" he says. "I'm so tired, Oswin."

"You're tired? You're tired. That's cute." She snaps back, and no, the fury isn't gone or set aside, just smothered. A little less smothered at the moment, actually. "Really. I wouldn't know anything about that."

Autor releases her hand immediately, dropping it. "Give me a break," he says. "I come back to find you suffering from some grand delusion, and I don't know how to even deal with that."

"You didn't come home." It's not a shout, it's not even as loud as her normal spoken voice, but the pain and anger in it could fuel an army of Daleks. "You didn't, and there I was, alone, and months go by without even a word and there's no point anymore but I have these cats and they need things and they always need things and I have to protect them but there's no point!"

Shut up, that's a perfectly logical rant.

"Yes, I did," Autor snaps, clenching his fists at his sides. "And I need to collect my cat from you--thanks for the reminder. I know you've been watching me on your little bots. You can't have imagined me interacting with everyone."

"... could've." She chokes out, a frantic sort of denial.

It's also a bald-faced lie - there's a point where ability has to give way to statistical probability.

"No, you can't have, especially with people you don't know," Autor says, his knuckles white. "Face the truth, Oswin."

"... Why did you leave?" If he won't let her have grief, then she wants truth to hold on to. "You weren't going to go."

Autor stiffens. It's not that he doesn't want to tell her, he's just afraid his answer won't be good enough. "I had to see my mother again, one last time. I didn't think the door would disappear."

Doesn't he seem a little too angry?

...

Doesn't she?

Oswin feels she has done quite enough in terms of 'not staying alone in her room all day', for the next forever. This just doesn't feel safe.

"You should, um. Get your cat."

"Yeah," Autor says, furrowing his brow. "Let me get my cat. I'm sorry you had to watch him all this time. Let me know if there's some way I can make it up to you."

"It's... fine, he's fine, I mean." He's protected by a small army of spiderbots, that's what's happening here.

She may have also, at some point in the recent past, acquired a roomba.

There may now be two roombas.

One for each cat.

Autor might be getting a roomba, just saying.

"I'm sure he is," Autor says, and then hitches his left shoulder up in a half-shrug. "I suspect he doesn't even know me anymore. I left when he was just a kitten."

"He's still just a kitten, he's ridiculous." Oswin feels that as the person who lives with these two cats she's allowed to sigh about their cat ways as much as she wants. Anyone else will be fried by spiderbot.

"Is he still?" Autor says, blinking down at her. He's not used to being this much taller than she is. "I would have thought he'd have grown up fully by now. Huh. Well, take me to him, I guess. He'll have to get used to my room again."

She doesn't really want to - left without her denial and terrified of her anger she mostly just wants to hide for the rest of forever. However, she can't just kidnap his cat.

Even if he did leave.

So she nods, jerkily, and heads for the stairs. She's rather proud of the way she doesn't run.

Autor follows her in sullen silence, turning over in his head how he'll have to get some cat food again.

"I don't know if I've adequately expressed this yet, but thank you for taking care of my cat," he murmurs once they're halfway up the steps.

"Of c... I mean. I couldn't just..." She could have though, she knows that road, it's the one she's been actively avoiding for years now.

"Who else would ride his Roomba?" She asks finally as she keys open her apartment's door.

"What's a Roomba?" Autor says, tilting his head at her. He follows her into her apartment, trying not to crowd her.

A whirring sound answers him, and moments later the disc-shaped robot rolls into view.

Perched on top is Etude, casually licking a paw.

Oswin shrugs.
"Sometimes I race them." Because obviously, two cats = two cats riding two Roombas.

Autor furrows his brow. "I see," he says, crouching down to poke at the Roomba. He scratches behind Etude's ears. "Thank you for letting me have him back, Oswin."

Anger floods her expression, her stance again before being carefully packed away.

(far far away)

"I'm not a thief."

"Of course you're not," Autor says, scooping up his cat. "I didn't say that you were."

He sighs. "I should probably leave you alone now."

She doesn't want him to go, but she can't bear to be around him either. It's her fault, she knows that, along with how she knows he didn't do this on purpose... but that doesn't stop the fury, and she can hardly breathe with it humming through her brain.

"Guess so." She manages to keep the biting words between her teeth, though her tone leaves something to be desired.

Hell, this whole mess leaves something to be desired.

Autor looks as if he's about to ask her for a hug, but keeps his silence. He nods to her to acknowledge her words, and then turns away, heading out of the apartment with his cat.

She could stop him. She could.

She defeated Daleks and Doctors.

But she can't seem to get the words out.

So she's left with a cat-free Roomba bumping up against her ankle.

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