lorentzian | 01 ✴ written / action

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01 ✴ written / action

My name is Jane Foster. And if I'm remembering everything correctly, which I can hardly believe, then I've been here before. That being the case, there are a few people I need to talk to. You'll know who you are.

For those who don't know me, you might remember a spectacularly failed attempt at escaping the enclosure some time ago. (Sorry for the vague time frame. I haven't figured out yet how long I've been gone.) For anyone who arrived after that time, I'm an astrophysicist who specializes in wormholes. Well, it's more complex than that, I also study quantum energy fluctuations and related terrestrial phenomena pretty much all over the world - Earth, I mean. Earth. Earth in 2013, for anyone curious. Sorry, this is getting off topic.

In a nice turn of events, I didn't wake up outside, so no search and rescue needed this time.

I guess, um.

Hi, everyone. Old and new. It's - weird to be back.

[ Once she's done writing that plain, unembellished message, Jane shuts her journal and sighs, staring at the blank wall opposite her. Thank the powers at be for small blessings, like waking up warm and comfortable for once instead of half-frozen on a forest floor.

Since the apartment in which she awoke is one of the unclaimed ones, there's nothing really here for her to make use of - or, alternatively, disturb. So a short while later she is slipping out the door, walking on tip-toe down the halls and stairways, though she'll pause at the entrance of the building. She doesn't relish the idea of going out in the cold barefoot and in only a sundress. So she'll skulk about there, deliberating while checking her journal periodically for responses. Anyone who doesn't immediately strike her as Overtly And Comically Evil will probably get a hello. ]

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[At some point after Teddy's left for school (and potentially dragged Tommy with him, god knows if that actually worked), Billy figures he should probably get something to eat. Or just... leave the apartment. Who knew such a small thing could be a nigh-impossible task day by day? His boyfriend really does have the patience of a saint.

Determined to at least try to get out off the window, out of his room, and into a place where actual, live people interact, he prods himself out of the apartment and into the hall, headed for the kitchen to make some brunch. He's half-sneaking, half-slinking like a kicked puppy, so he's not really looking where he's going.]

Billy?

[ When Jane heard a door open behind her just as she reached the end of the hall, she paused, glancing over her shoulder to see who else might be here.

Her heart nearly stops when she sees him. ]

Oh, my god.

[ She turns to face him with dreamlike slowness, visibly dazed as memories wash over her in waves. Her jaw hangs as she tries to say something and instead finds no words coming, until-- ]

Billy?

[Well. So much for making it to the kitchen without having a spazz. Billy jumps at the voice, his face pale, expression startled, and stares back at her like she's a ghost. No way. No way.]

Jane?

[How- how can she- she's here? Of all places? What the hell?]

God. I. Oh my god.

[ Without another thought she strides right over to him and pulls him into a bone crushing hug, still gasping in disbelief. ]

[Wait, wait, what's she doing, why is she-

-oh. Oh, wow. That sure is a hug.

He doesn't move for a long moment, still too stunned by her sudden appearance and the rush of conflicted emotions he's feeling right now (the depression, the fears, the worries, the joy, the excitement, the dread-) to fully react yet. Before long, though, it clicks, and he lifts his arms to hold her back. God... god, he's missed her. This place really has a habit of kicking you in the ass and forming these awful holes in your heart from all the people you're missing.]

I... I can't believe you're here... and you remember...?

Edited 2013-11-19 10:01 (UTC)

It's -- it's hazy, but yeah. Yeah, I do.

[ His lack of immediate response to her hug sends up a warning flag instantly, but with murk still clouding her recall she isn't entirely sure why. But what she does know is that this boy is the only little brother she's ever had and like hell will she let go of him right now. ]

I remember everything. God. I can-- I remember being blind. [ She looses one arm, bringing it up to pass one hand over her eyes, which briefly flutter shut. With a sigh, she reopens them and moves her hands to grip his shoulders instead, smiling that fond, crooked smile of hers. ] Not so much anymore.

[ Nah, fuck it. Again she pulls him into a tight hug. ] It's so, so good to see you. In -- in more ways than one. [ A choked laugh escapes her at the unintentional pun. ]

[That finally makes him smile, and it's genuine enough, all things considered. That's right... she'd been blind the last time she was here. It really has been a long time...]

I'm glad... I'm really glad you've got your sight back. And I'm glad to see you again, too...

[It's selfish - it's so selfish - but he can't help but think... now there's one person he cares about that wasn't hurt by his spell. One person who doesn't know what happened. Not yet, anyway. He doesn't know how long that will last, but-

...Screw it, that isn't what's important now. What matters is making sure she's okay.]

So- you just got here? What do you need? Are you hungry? Cold? I've got some clothes you can borrow, or- I can get Teddy to bring something home...

[As he had said before several times when prompted or asked, Thor truly had not wished for Jane to arrive in this place for all that he missed her company. This village, for all it's comforts, was not safe, nor was it conductive to her studies. And yet he scoured the journals every morning since his arrival for word of her all the same. He had considered what he might say should he see her face and have it truly be hers, had several fearful moments of worry over it being a Jane Foster that knew him, had met him, or one that had not yet come into his life.

It was all very unsettling to consider, but he searched. He had not expected to find anything this day, and yet there it was. The familiar, almost comforting slant of her handwriting. His response is instant and involuntary.]

Jane? [Almost tentative at first, but growing more exuberant with the certainty that yes, this is the woman he had missed.] Are you well?

Yeah. Yeah, I woke up, like, maaaaybe half an hour ago? I'm sure you can tell I haven't been shopping yet. [ Lets go of him for real this time and steps back, gesturing at herself (and her New Feather dress) with wry humor. ]

Socks and shoes would be great. And Teddy -- how is he? How are you? God, what have I missed? How much have I missed? How long has it been? Who's still here? I--

[ She pauses the sudden flood of questions, then gives her head a rapid little shake. ]

No. One thing at a time. [ Firmly, with a smile: ] Shoes. And maybe some coffee. Then we can talk.

[ The sound of his voice shocks her heart. She feels it, has to swallow a gasp - is glad, all at once, that her voice function isn't on yet.

Her mixed memories aren't helping right now. Her immediate past, the one she feels most viscerally, was one where Thor had been missing for almost two years, one where she saw him on television in New York City and yet still could not chase him down, reach him, see him. But her Luceti past had him in it, by her side, supporting and caring for her when things went wrong, just -- being by her side --

The gulf between these two states of memory - of knowing him as gone and knowing him as there - is so huge and yawning she actually feels a bit queasy for a moment.

Deep breaths, Jane.

She switches on the voice function. ]

... I'm fine. I'm fine, I'm, um, I'm in one of the community buildings. I haven't checked which one yet, um...

You're here. This is -- so surreal, you have no idea. Are you -- are you? I mean, are you alright, how long have you -- how long have you been here?

[Her. It's her, and it's a Jane that knows him. A Jane he's left behind far longer than he might have liked, one he was not able to contact during his brief return to Midgard. It is a strange sensation the weight that seems to shift from his shoulders and settle instead in the center of his chest, weighing down his heart and wrenching the breath from him. Guilt is familiar enough a sensation, but not in so large a quantity. Not aside from that which he feels for his family.

But he had given his word and forced her to wait. Without any way to contact him, or any way to let her know he still thought of her. Bid Heimdall watch out for her.]

It has been but a few days- [A few vexing, puzzling days, but not long at all,] I am well. Far better than I was now that you are here but- where are you? I will come for you. And-

[A moment's consideration.]

Would you wish me to bring clothing? I arrived in terribly little. I would not wish for you to wander in this weather in what is provided.

[It's a relief when she says that - takes back her questions, kind of - because he's not sure how he'd answer them, at this point. Not yet, anyway. Maybe by the time they've gotten everything sorted, he'll be ready. ...Maybe.

He takes a step back, gesturing at the door he'd just walked out of.]

Well, come on. You can borrow at least that much until you get your own stuff back. And I'll make some coffee.

[ She isn't sure what she feels. Anger. Shock. Gratitude. Relief. Tentative, uncertain hope. That gentle, squeezing warmth in her chest she always feels around him, comfortable and familiar like an old shoe.

He told her he would return. She'd determined to find him, instead. But she'd failed. She'd searched and searched and searched, never given up even when she told herself she had, tried to insist she had -- never once had she stopped looking for him. And once again, Luceti has brought him to her.

Far better than I was now that you are here.

She's so doomed. ] If you can find something ... a shirt, some socks ... yeah, that would -- that would be nice.

[ She pauses, trying to shake off her jitters as she quickly ducks outside of the building to check her location. When next she speaks into the journal there's an audible shiver in her voice; good lord, it's cold out there. ]

G-- I'm in Ground? They. Changed the names. Do you--

[ ... oh, god. ]

... Thor, do you remember being here before?

[ With a grateful smile Jane follows the line of his gesture and heads for the door. ]

Thanks, Billy. You're a life saver. [ After a beat, she lifts her eyebrows at him and tilts her head just slightly. ]

By the way, I have news. I actually moved up a little bit on my personal timeline.

Wait for me, it should not take long to find what you need.

[He's already on the move, making his way from the small room he had been using for the past few days to the tailors. A shirt, socks, shoes- her feet were on the small side as she was quite petite, he knew that much- those trousers of denim which he recalled her wearing in New Mexico. All this he will find and deliver to the Building of...Ground?

That is an odd name.

Still he did not question it, simply set about his task.]

I do not. [A moment, his voice dropping low and uncertain.] ...was I here long? Did we speak often? Was I kind to you?

[The last, more than the rest, was most important to him.]

[ Jane tilts the journal down and away so that he cannot see her face, nor the way she shuts her eyes. This time the shiver in her voice has nothing to do with being cold, though she tries to keep her exhalation quiet so that the journal won't pick it up. ]

... you were. [ Her voice is fond, but strangely sad. ] You really -- really were. Listen, it's ... I have a lot to explain. But it can wait. All that's important right now? [ She lifts the journal again, and he'll be able to see her smile. ] Is come get me.

[Such a kindness should not sound so much like grief. It is a strange thing to feel envy for himself, for a part of him that was here when she had need of him. To blame a man that he was not nor could not be simply for a lack of memory for putting that tone into her voice. Had he the power he would do anything in the nine realms to keep her from ever sounding so soft and sad ever again.

All he can do, all that he does, is find the required clothing and make his way to the building where she has woken.]

I am on my way, Jane.

[It does not take long and he is not so much a coward that he would dawdle for not having words enough to express how glad he is to know she is here, how sorry he is for having forgotten this place and her with it, nor his shame at being unable to fulfill his word as given. He has no words, only clothing and a brightening smile when he finds her.

There was something important he was to say, he's certain. He cannot remember.]

Your clothing.

[ She doesn't leave the building -- still too cold -- but her smile is a mile wide and dazzling when he steps in the main entrance to greet her.

God. There he is. Tall and broad, built like a mountain and roughly as physically imposing. The way he looks at her. God, how he looks at her. All she wants to do...

... for some reason, is slap him really hard. The impulse is sudden and she just barely manages to bury it. Instantly she goes from warmth and fond reunion to intense awkwardness. Why did she-- how could she-- in what world would she really want to slap him-- but the half of her mind that's fresh off two years apart from him and still quietly angry over his broken promise is difficult to ignore.

Thankfully, she has another half of her mind, a Luceti-influenced half, and Thor is spared a slap. He is not, however, spared her sudden stiff posture or strange sheepishness. She reaches out to take her clothing. ]

Thank you. [ She hugs the bundle to her chest, regarding him with mixed fondness, like she's not sure how to feel. ] ... so, um.

[Here she is. Small and slight and sharper than any dagger in all the armories of Asgard, more clever than any of their scholars and crackling brighter than any nova or star he has ever seen. How was it that he could ever have mistaken Padme for her save out of acute longing? They both had grace, and the resemblance was strong, true, but Jane was ever more brilliant to him. And he'd left her. Been forced to leave her, made a choice that had been for the best of the Nine Realms but it is so very difficult to recall why that was important when she is here and real and looking at him like he'd found her book of notes on her research and returned it to her rather than bearing clothing.

He looks to her and sees all he cares for above all else in all the realms. More than family, more than duty, more than any shade of princely obligation.

She speaks, and he should likely say something in turn.]

You are welcome.

[A beat, and he extends a hand, tentative, uncertain if it is welcome to brush a lock of hair out of her face.]

I have missed you greatly.

[It's a little pathetic how happy he feels, seeing that familiar handwriting. He almost writes back, but then decides he'd rather just go in person.

So he does, trying to pinpoint her location by scrying in a hand mirror. She doesn't have his ward any longer, but he's used magic on her before. He knows her.

He remembers carrying her to the clinic after one particularly unpleasant abduction, and holding her hand, and reading to her...no, those are not helpful thoughts, are they?

Eventually he does pinpoint her, thigh after a second of thought he grabs a few things to take along, hidden away--coffee and cups, a few books he's done with she might like, two spare notebooks and a pen. Then makes a suitably dramatic entrance, appearing between one moment and the next leaning in a doorway in her apartment.

But he's going to pretend he's not excited. He's going to pretend this isn't a big deal. Because it shouldn't be. Right?]

Edited 2013-11-19 15:10 (UTC)

Personal... you're from the future now? Er. I mean, your old- you know what I mean.

[He's hoping. And he's interested in the answer, too. Wasn't that after the Avengers...?]

[He's glad to hear from her again. And he takes a moment to collect himself before answering.]

And here we were all wondering whatever happened to Baby Jane. Thanks for providing an answer.

[ Tony can't quite identify what he's feeling at the moment - relief isn't quite the right word for it, because god, is he glad to see what writing, to see that name - Jane Foster - but things had been bad around here lately. She would have no idea what she was coming back to.

But she remembered, and she's back, and that's what matters to him at the moment. ]

Cassette tapes? Really, Jane? It's not the early nineties. Invest in some digital recording equipment before you go blind next time.

[ Didn't you miss him, Jane. ]

[ God. Can't she even get out the doorway without being accosted?

Apparently not. She jumps a little when Loki suddenly appears, a hand flying up to press down on her chest. When she's managed to swallow against the sudden heartbeat she can feel in her throat, she gives him a sort of incredulous smile, folding her arms instead. ]

... Loki.

[ ... after a beat of thought, her expression gentles somewhat. ]

Long time no see.

[ In more ways than one. ]

Hi, Kurt. --it is Kurt, right? I'm still -- memories. You know how it is.

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