(no subject)
7/12/2007
Although doors remained looked and guests remain watched, treatment is kinder, gentler -- and perhaps without quite as much suspicion. There is still some, however. After all, this is Hellfire.
Late evening, the day after his arrival, Bahir sits down and drops his shields. This is not the first time. Twice, he had tried and retreated, unable to focus for all the noise that surrounds him. It is quieter, however, and many have gone home. Few are left to walk the halls, and so he opens his mind again. << Sabitha? >>
In another solitary room, Sabitha sits abruptly upright and pulls free from the pillow she has tucked against her middle. There is a drawn-out moment of mental silence, a complete, stunned lack of thought, and then greedy mental fingers clutch desperately for the feel of Bahir's mind, and the answer of his name is nearly a sob. << /Bahir/? >>
Like fingers lacing through fingers in a brief squeeze across bars, so Bahir's mind reaches for Sabitha's across the distance between them. It is a weaker touch, without the fullness of nearness or completeness that comes with contact -- but it is still something. Words, and the whisper of emotion: << Sabitha. How are you? >>
Sabitha clings too it, although the desperate nature lessens a touch when he speaks again. She closes her eyes and breathes out, quick to assure, << I'm okay, I'm okay -- are you-- >> Conscious thought trails off into something less intentional, wondering, << really him really /mine/? >>
A slight ripple of offense -- How could he be any other? -- brushes over with humor. << It's me, >> Bahir says. << I saw the other one. Fuck, that's weird. >> A desperate longing lances: << Adel. Adel's here. >>
<< I know, >> Sabby returns, mind swiftly spiraling toward what bare wisps of comfort she can offer. << They won't let me see him. Everything's different everything's changed. >>
<< Yeah. I can feel them -- just bare, but I can feel them. But it's not the same, >> says Bahir, contact briefly wavering in unsteady emotion before he calms. << God, Sabitha. I'm glad you're here. I couldn't stand to lose you. I wasn't sure what had happened. Frost is here, too. We came looking for you. We found you. It'll be okay now. Adel's here, and you're here. >>
There is an emotional surge in Sabitha's mind, a tight gratefulness and desperate need that clings to Bahir's mental touch. Outwardly, she swallows. << And Percy, >> she adds in a bare whisper. << Percy's here. They're all different and they all hate me and -- Bahir. Where are you? >> *re*
<< I saw. >> Rather more muted on that point, Bahir is uncertainly ... uncertain. << I saw him. I don't -- I can't be far. I'm in a guest room. They won't let me leave yet. I don't know where Emma is. I don't know how far you are, except that you probably can't be too far. >>
Silence stretches between them, laced with worry and a low thrum of repressed fear. She lifts a hand to scrub it across her eyes. << You're inside, then. They've taken you. >>
<< Frost isn't. She's watching. Somewhere. She said she was. >> And, if anything, Bahir believes that.
<< Good. >> Sabby answers, and then more strongly, << /Good/. >> Her mental voice quiets for a moment before stretching toward him, a nearly fruitless yearning from a non-telepath. << God, Bahir. Nothing has ever been as good as hearing you just now. >>
<< Hah. >> Bahir leans against the wall. He doesn't even know if it is the right wall, but he still leans. << I know. I wonder if they'd let us share a room. Do you want to ask? They might just move us farther a part, >> he adds, frowning. << Paranoid fuckers. >>
<< I don't know, >> Sabby answers, and her eyes drop closed again as she concentrates on the mental feel of him. << I don't know if they'll let us see each other. I want to see you. >>
<< I can ask. >> Bahir holds it out, a quiet offer.
<< Yeah, >> Sabby answers. The thought trickles away into a spiraling echo and then she ventures carefully, << How are you? With Adel here-- and the other-- >>
Bahir shakes his head, pushing off the wall. << It's like nothing I could explain. I know it's not my brother, but -- oh, fuck, Sabitha. I just. >> Contact breaks off, falling silent, and he goes to knock on the door. Hellooooo out there!
Sabitha's mental voice rises swiftly at that break. << Bahir? Bahir! >>
<< I'm asking! >>
Sabitha slumps backwards slightly and allows, << Oh. Okay, yeah. >>
After a pause, the door opens and Bahir is met with an expression of complacent, pleasant curiosity. "Yes?" Luke tips his head slightly to one side with a slight smile. Hello in there! The partial dampener glints metallic at his ear. "What can I do for you?"
"I was wonder if I could be moved," Bahir asks, regarding Luke steadily. "I'd like to share a room with Sabitha."
Luke blinks down at him with a slightly puzzled expression. "Share a room?" he says. He scratches his head. "Well, that's not the most regular request," he says with a vague air of apology. "I'll have to ask the Rook about it. Is there a particular reason you'd want to?"
Bahir's eyelashes drift low over his eyes, and his smile is a brief twitch that soon flattens. "I just -- please," he says simply. "I don't want to be alone in here."
Luke chews on his lower lip and nods. "Okay," he says. "I'll tell him you asked." There is a vaguely weird pronoun emphasis here, coupled with the slight arch of Luke's eyebrows as he takes half a step back. "I'll get someone here to relieve me and give him a call. Okay? Is there anything else I can get you?"
Bahir shakes his head, a flicker of relief on his features. "No. Thank you," he says, and then closes the door again. He moves away and reaches for Sabitha again: << Maybe. He has to ask. >>
Sabitha breathes out fast and hard and nods, a movement echoed mentally. << Okay. Maybe-- >> She breaks off and smiles slightly. The expression pops in her mind. << I'm glad you came. >>
<< I'm glad I found you, >> Bahir says, relief naked.
Sabitha clings to that relief as it echoes in her own mind. << Do you know what happened? >>
Bahir shakes his head, negation transmitted wordlessly. << No fucking idea. Did you see that Magneto is working with Frost? Everything's wrong here. >>
There is a mental laugh, dry and disbelieving as Sabitha suggests in hushed whispers, << We're fucked up. But /man/, so are they. >>
<< Yeah, >> Bahir agrees softly. A wistful chord thrums. << But they're all alive. Where are you? >>
<< I don't know, >> Sabby replies swiftly, brushing past wistfulness swiftly. << I've been here for days, though. Some room. I can see this restaurant from my window. >> A neat mental image passes along her view.
<< I had Thai. >> Laughter follows. << Fuck. Takeout. I missed takeout so much. >>
<< I had /fruit/, >> Sabby counters. << Oranges. Bananas. >>
Their tete-a-tete is interrupted in the midst of this recounting of luxury: the knock comes first at Sabitha's door.
Sabitha startles instantly and scurries into a stand that quickly rushes to her door. She reaches across the distance to ask, << Bahir? >> while offering a verbal (ironic) "Come in."
<< Mm, Bananas. -- What? >> Bahir eavesdrops, as much as he can. << What's going on? >>
<< Someone's here, >> Sabby offers, and opens her mind with practiced willingness to whatever spying he wants to take.
The door opens. There are Pawns outside: tall Luke Eisenberg with his dirty-blond hair, smiling Spiderbite with tension coiling his slender frame. "Good evening, ma'am," says Luke, smile warming the placid good looks his face may boast. "Your friend Mr. al-Razi has requested that you be moved to share his quarters." (Actually, that's not what he requested. Blame bureaucracy. Bahir's room is better anyway.) "If you'd care to come with me we can get you both set up, assuming of course that you wouldn't rather the privacy of your current arrangement."
Relief shoots toward Bahir first, echoed in Sabby's expression and she shares in a desperate (unnecessary) rush, << They're bringing me to you. >> Her shoulders slump forward as she pads her way on bare feet toward Luke. "No-- no. I'll go. Thank you."
<< Good. >> Bahir goes to make sure he didn't leave any messes lying around anywhere. He didn't. He checks anyway.
"No sedition, hmm?" Michael smiles wider, showing his fangs.
Luke doesn't quite make a face, although the twitch to his expression suggests he might like to. "You're welcome," he says. "We'll get you in there and then Spiderbite will raid the servants' quarters for a rollaway unless you and Mr. al-Razi would prefer to share." He gestures with a sweep of his hand, indicating the hall before them in the direction of the other guest quarters. "Mr. Wang may be along in a little while to check in on some equipment in your room, but I can assure you it's a simple and standard technical check and nothing to be alarmed by."
Sabitha's expression snaps venom toward Michael and her eyes flash with mutation's spark in reply. She pulls herself straight and turns back to Luke, stepping swiftly and speaking only long enough to inform him, "We can share."
Bahir waits on the other side of the door, rising on his toes briefly in uncertain anticipation. His hands are clasped behind his back.
Michael presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth, tasting the real venom that accumulates there, and chatters his teeth in a chuckling laugh. "If you burn down the house, we're not so likely to forgive," he says. His teeth chatter again, dark eyes gleaming with nasty humor. "Oh! Wait!"
"Takahashi," Luke sounds a warning. "This way, then, ma'am." It's not far, although a walk with Spiderbite pacing neatly at your back with bright black eyes fastened on the back of your neck might well feel like a lifetime.
Sabitha is not as neatly intimidated by such things as others Michael may be used to, and whatever thoughts she may have about his gaze are neatly hidden by the stiff straightness of her back. Her steps are quick, but not hasty, and her gaze remains fiercely fastened on the doors that stretch before them. Her breath quickens with anticipation.
Bahir casts one last, almost nervous glance around the room. He steps back quickly to pick up a fallen magazine and sets it on a neat pile. He fidgets, glancing toward the door, and then steps back.
The procession comes to a halt as Luke greets the curly-headed blonde pixie currently guarding Bahir's door; few words are exchanged before she takes off at a jog, and Luke knocks twice on Bahir's door to alert him -- unaware of just how unnecessary this is! -- and opens it. "There you are," he says pleasantly to Sabitha, Michael having fallen silent when his barbs failed to achieve a reaction.
Bahir waits with, literally, open arms. (Slightly opened. Opened enough.)
Composure crumbles the instant the door opens, and Sabitha throws herself through it and into Bahir's arms with a fiercely drawn breath.
Then his arms close, and Bahir holds her tight. He squeezes.
Sabitha latches her own arms tight around Bahir and buries her face in the curve of his neck. For a long time, she simply stands there. A wafting thought laughs giddily in her mind. << I swear I nearly thought I was imagining you. >>
Michael's expression resembles that of a man who has just swallowed a live worm as he feels it squirming down his esophagus. He eyes Luke with blame.
Luke just smiles sort of awkwardly, clears his throat and says, "Uhm, feel free to knock if you two -- if you need anything. I'll be right outside." He draws the door quietly closed.
Through the door comes the quiet hubbub of bickering, and then, silence.
Bahir tangles his fingers in her hair, holding tight. << I was afraid I'd lost you. >> The touch of telepathy is clearer now, carrying a greater breadth of emotional resonance; fear and loss are a faded ache, relief overwhelming. << So glad. Fuck, Sabitha. >> He doesn't hear Luke, he ignores Michael: he focuses on Sabitha, and on the feel of her in his arms. << Lost so much. So /lost/ here. >> He whispers against her temple, placing a light kiss: "At least there's you."
Sabitha's fingers curl in a hard press against Bahir's back, clawing him closer. "And you," she replies into his shoulder. Tears prick at her eyes, happy and sad and scared and giddy all at once, and her voice chokes in her throat. << I didn't know it could hurt this much anymore. The thought of losing someone. So glad you're here so glad you came so glad. >>
Bahir has no reply. There is just wordless affection, and the sense of solitude banished. He pulls her closer, no longer alone.
Reunited.
Although doors remained looked and guests remain watched, treatment is kinder, gentler -- and perhaps without quite as much suspicion. There is still some, however. After all, this is Hellfire.
Late evening, the day after his arrival, Bahir sits down and drops his shields. This is not the first time. Twice, he had tried and retreated, unable to focus for all the noise that surrounds him. It is quieter, however, and many have gone home. Few are left to walk the halls, and so he opens his mind again. << Sabitha? >>
In another solitary room, Sabitha sits abruptly upright and pulls free from the pillow she has tucked against her middle. There is a drawn-out moment of mental silence, a complete, stunned lack of thought, and then greedy mental fingers clutch desperately for the feel of Bahir's mind, and the answer of his name is nearly a sob. << /Bahir/? >>
Like fingers lacing through fingers in a brief squeeze across bars, so Bahir's mind reaches for Sabitha's across the distance between them. It is a weaker touch, without the fullness of nearness or completeness that comes with contact -- but it is still something. Words, and the whisper of emotion: << Sabitha. How are you? >>
Sabitha clings too it, although the desperate nature lessens a touch when he speaks again. She closes her eyes and breathes out, quick to assure, << I'm okay, I'm okay -- are you-- >> Conscious thought trails off into something less intentional, wondering, << really him really /mine/? >>
A slight ripple of offense -- How could he be any other? -- brushes over with humor. << It's me, >> Bahir says. << I saw the other one. Fuck, that's weird. >> A desperate longing lances: << Adel. Adel's here. >>
<< I know, >> Sabby returns, mind swiftly spiraling toward what bare wisps of comfort she can offer. << They won't let me see him. Everything's different everything's changed. >>
<< Yeah. I can feel them -- just bare, but I can feel them. But it's not the same, >> says Bahir, contact briefly wavering in unsteady emotion before he calms. << God, Sabitha. I'm glad you're here. I couldn't stand to lose you. I wasn't sure what had happened. Frost is here, too. We came looking for you. We found you. It'll be okay now. Adel's here, and you're here. >>
There is an emotional surge in Sabitha's mind, a tight gratefulness and desperate need that clings to Bahir's mental touch. Outwardly, she swallows. << And Percy, >> she adds in a bare whisper. << Percy's here. They're all different and they all hate me and -- Bahir. Where are you? >> *re*
<< I saw. >> Rather more muted on that point, Bahir is uncertainly ... uncertain. << I saw him. I don't -- I can't be far. I'm in a guest room. They won't let me leave yet. I don't know where Emma is. I don't know how far you are, except that you probably can't be too far. >>
Silence stretches between them, laced with worry and a low thrum of repressed fear. She lifts a hand to scrub it across her eyes. << You're inside, then. They've taken you. >>
<< Frost isn't. She's watching. Somewhere. She said she was. >> And, if anything, Bahir believes that.
<< Good. >> Sabby answers, and then more strongly, << /Good/. >> Her mental voice quiets for a moment before stretching toward him, a nearly fruitless yearning from a non-telepath. << God, Bahir. Nothing has ever been as good as hearing you just now. >>
<< Hah. >> Bahir leans against the wall. He doesn't even know if it is the right wall, but he still leans. << I know. I wonder if they'd let us share a room. Do you want to ask? They might just move us farther a part, >> he adds, frowning. << Paranoid fuckers. >>
<< I don't know, >> Sabby answers, and her eyes drop closed again as she concentrates on the mental feel of him. << I don't know if they'll let us see each other. I want to see you. >>
<< I can ask. >> Bahir holds it out, a quiet offer.
<< Yeah, >> Sabby answers. The thought trickles away into a spiraling echo and then she ventures carefully, << How are you? With Adel here-- and the other-- >>
Bahir shakes his head, pushing off the wall. << It's like nothing I could explain. I know it's not my brother, but -- oh, fuck, Sabitha. I just. >> Contact breaks off, falling silent, and he goes to knock on the door. Hellooooo out there!
Sabitha's mental voice rises swiftly at that break. << Bahir? Bahir! >>
<< I'm asking! >>
Sabitha slumps backwards slightly and allows, << Oh. Okay, yeah. >>
After a pause, the door opens and Bahir is met with an expression of complacent, pleasant curiosity. "Yes?" Luke tips his head slightly to one side with a slight smile. Hello in there! The partial dampener glints metallic at his ear. "What can I do for you?"
"I was wonder if I could be moved," Bahir asks, regarding Luke steadily. "I'd like to share a room with Sabitha."
Luke blinks down at him with a slightly puzzled expression. "Share a room?" he says. He scratches his head. "Well, that's not the most regular request," he says with a vague air of apology. "I'll have to ask the Rook about it. Is there a particular reason you'd want to?"
Bahir's eyelashes drift low over his eyes, and his smile is a brief twitch that soon flattens. "I just -- please," he says simply. "I don't want to be alone in here."
Luke chews on his lower lip and nods. "Okay," he says. "I'll tell him you asked." There is a vaguely weird pronoun emphasis here, coupled with the slight arch of Luke's eyebrows as he takes half a step back. "I'll get someone here to relieve me and give him a call. Okay? Is there anything else I can get you?"
Bahir shakes his head, a flicker of relief on his features. "No. Thank you," he says, and then closes the door again. He moves away and reaches for Sabitha again: << Maybe. He has to ask. >>
Sabitha breathes out fast and hard and nods, a movement echoed mentally. << Okay. Maybe-- >> She breaks off and smiles slightly. The expression pops in her mind. << I'm glad you came. >>
<< I'm glad I found you, >> Bahir says, relief naked.
Sabitha clings to that relief as it echoes in her own mind. << Do you know what happened? >>
Bahir shakes his head, negation transmitted wordlessly. << No fucking idea. Did you see that Magneto is working with Frost? Everything's wrong here. >>
There is a mental laugh, dry and disbelieving as Sabitha suggests in hushed whispers, << We're fucked up. But /man/, so are they. >>
<< Yeah, >> Bahir agrees softly. A wistful chord thrums. << But they're all alive. Where are you? >>
<< I don't know, >> Sabby replies swiftly, brushing past wistfulness swiftly. << I've been here for days, though. Some room. I can see this restaurant from my window. >> A neat mental image passes along her view.
<< I had Thai. >> Laughter follows. << Fuck. Takeout. I missed takeout so much. >>
<< I had /fruit/, >> Sabby counters. << Oranges. Bananas. >>
Their tete-a-tete is interrupted in the midst of this recounting of luxury: the knock comes first at Sabitha's door.
Sabitha startles instantly and scurries into a stand that quickly rushes to her door. She reaches across the distance to ask, << Bahir? >> while offering a verbal (ironic) "Come in."
<< Mm, Bananas. -- What? >> Bahir eavesdrops, as much as he can. << What's going on? >>
<< Someone's here, >> Sabby offers, and opens her mind with practiced willingness to whatever spying he wants to take.
The door opens. There are Pawns outside: tall Luke Eisenberg with his dirty-blond hair, smiling Spiderbite with tension coiling his slender frame. "Good evening, ma'am," says Luke, smile warming the placid good looks his face may boast. "Your friend Mr. al-Razi has requested that you be moved to share his quarters." (Actually, that's not what he requested. Blame bureaucracy. Bahir's room is better anyway.) "If you'd care to come with me we can get you both set up, assuming of course that you wouldn't rather the privacy of your current arrangement."
Relief shoots toward Bahir first, echoed in Sabby's expression and she shares in a desperate (unnecessary) rush, << They're bringing me to you. >> Her shoulders slump forward as she pads her way on bare feet toward Luke. "No-- no. I'll go. Thank you."
<< Good. >> Bahir goes to make sure he didn't leave any messes lying around anywhere. He didn't. He checks anyway.
"No sedition, hmm?" Michael smiles wider, showing his fangs.
Luke doesn't quite make a face, although the twitch to his expression suggests he might like to. "You're welcome," he says. "We'll get you in there and then Spiderbite will raid the servants' quarters for a rollaway unless you and Mr. al-Razi would prefer to share." He gestures with a sweep of his hand, indicating the hall before them in the direction of the other guest quarters. "Mr. Wang may be along in a little while to check in on some equipment in your room, but I can assure you it's a simple and standard technical check and nothing to be alarmed by."
Sabitha's expression snaps venom toward Michael and her eyes flash with mutation's spark in reply. She pulls herself straight and turns back to Luke, stepping swiftly and speaking only long enough to inform him, "We can share."
Bahir waits on the other side of the door, rising on his toes briefly in uncertain anticipation. His hands are clasped behind his back.
Michael presses his tongue to the roof of his mouth, tasting the real venom that accumulates there, and chatters his teeth in a chuckling laugh. "If you burn down the house, we're not so likely to forgive," he says. His teeth chatter again, dark eyes gleaming with nasty humor. "Oh! Wait!"
"Takahashi," Luke sounds a warning. "This way, then, ma'am." It's not far, although a walk with Spiderbite pacing neatly at your back with bright black eyes fastened on the back of your neck might well feel like a lifetime.
Sabitha is not as neatly intimidated by such things as others Michael may be used to, and whatever thoughts she may have about his gaze are neatly hidden by the stiff straightness of her back. Her steps are quick, but not hasty, and her gaze remains fiercely fastened on the doors that stretch before them. Her breath quickens with anticipation.
Bahir casts one last, almost nervous glance around the room. He steps back quickly to pick up a fallen magazine and sets it on a neat pile. He fidgets, glancing toward the door, and then steps back.
The procession comes to a halt as Luke greets the curly-headed blonde pixie currently guarding Bahir's door; few words are exchanged before she takes off at a jog, and Luke knocks twice on Bahir's door to alert him -- unaware of just how unnecessary this is! -- and opens it. "There you are," he says pleasantly to Sabitha, Michael having fallen silent when his barbs failed to achieve a reaction.
Bahir waits with, literally, open arms. (Slightly opened. Opened enough.)
Composure crumbles the instant the door opens, and Sabitha throws herself through it and into Bahir's arms with a fiercely drawn breath.
Then his arms close, and Bahir holds her tight. He squeezes.
Sabitha latches her own arms tight around Bahir and buries her face in the curve of his neck. For a long time, she simply stands there. A wafting thought laughs giddily in her mind. << I swear I nearly thought I was imagining you. >>
Michael's expression resembles that of a man who has just swallowed a live worm as he feels it squirming down his esophagus. He eyes Luke with blame.
Luke just smiles sort of awkwardly, clears his throat and says, "Uhm, feel free to knock if you two -- if you need anything. I'll be right outside." He draws the door quietly closed.
Through the door comes the quiet hubbub of bickering, and then, silence.
Bahir tangles his fingers in her hair, holding tight. << I was afraid I'd lost you. >> The touch of telepathy is clearer now, carrying a greater breadth of emotional resonance; fear and loss are a faded ache, relief overwhelming. << So glad. Fuck, Sabitha. >> He doesn't hear Luke, he ignores Michael: he focuses on Sabitha, and on the feel of her in his arms. << Lost so much. So /lost/ here. >> He whispers against her temple, placing a light kiss: "At least there's you."
Sabitha's fingers curl in a hard press against Bahir's back, clawing him closer. "And you," she replies into his shoulder. Tears prick at her eyes, happy and sad and scared and giddy all at once, and her voice chokes in her throat. << I didn't know it could hurt this much anymore. The thought of losing someone. So glad you're here so glad you came so glad. >>
Bahir has no reply. There is just wordless affection, and the sense of solitude banished. He pulls her closer, no longer alone.
Reunited.