June 15 - Early Evening
Aug. 21st, 2019 02:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
st_artandstokeEmma and Jag have a reunion, and not the one he expected.
One moment, Jag was holding on tight to Coby and Curnen. Then an eternity passed, and he stumbled as he found his feet suddenly beating a pavement. He caught himself and looked around, heart leaping into his throat. Bright sunlight bathed the neighbourhood he knew so well. His feet carried him on as he mechanically adjusted the strap of his gear bag on his shoulder.
His clothes were different, he realised with a frown, and he nearly tripped on his own feet again as dissonant memories rushed him. The clothes he had been wearing at the Inn. Those he wore now, that he had put on this morning, at the squat. He'd kissed Em before heading out for the day - he'd kissed Emma goodbye, never to see her again. He'd seen Ollie just last night; he hadn't seen him since that Ghost of Christmas stint. He'd held Coby a minute ago; he hadn't seen him in months.
He wiped a hand over his face as he picked up the pace, tried to ignore the way his memories all scraped against each other. His time at the Inn; his time in London. Even his emotions had trouble reconciling, and his throat tightened at the thought of Coby and Curnen. He broke into a run before long, and reached the squat a breathless mess. He'd seen Jake and Ollie yesterday; he had missed them so much, over the long months of his stay at the Inn. And Em... Em.
Jake was sitting in the lounge, sideways on the couch with his back to an arm, the laptop from Fin's Christmas party a couple of years ago on his lap, watching something he put on pause when Jag walked in.
"All right?" Jake greeted him easily. "Good day out there?"
"Em around?" Jag asked in return, and he knew he didn't sound all right, probably didn't look all right.
"Still out," Jake replied with a frown. He moved to set the laptop aside and stand. "What's wrong?"
Jag's gear bag hit the floor, and he stepped forward to hug his roommate tight. "Nothing. I mean..." Tears started rolling down his cheeks. "This is... I can't..."
Jag couldn't make more words come, even as Jake asked question after question, never at a loss for words himself. Jag couldn't answer any of them, and eventually, he told his friend as much. "I'll tell you in a bit. Not... now." He pulled back slowly. "I've got to see Em, all right? But I'm all right." He wiped the tears off his face. "I am."
He would be, as soon as he saw Em. He was already pulling out his phone - a new phone he'd never used before, a phone he'd been using for six months or so - to text her as he walked into their room. His hands were shaking, so it took him a while to manage, but eventually he managed something short and to the point. He couldn't try to explain anything over the phone. Where are you, bab? I need to see you.
One moment, Emma was saying goodbye to Sunny and thinking she should try to find Lillith. The next, she found herself in London, deck of cards fanned out in front of her, and the London Eye looming ahead.
She tried to tell herself she'd been at the inn for a year and a half. It was possible while she was gone they'd rebuilt the landmark that Alex and Lorna had melted. But a city like London, it wasn't that hard to find signs of mutants going about their lives, and she didn't see any. She was already scooping up the cards to shuffle them before she decided to look for answers, the familiar motions a necessary comfort. She was still puzzling over the images the cards showed her, one spread after another, all giving her the same answers, when the phone in the bag resting at her hip buzzed with a text. Emma started at the vibration, made herself take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then she reached into the unfamiliar messenger bag for the phone right where she expected it to be.
A text from Jag.
Tears pricked, breath snagged, lump grew in her throat. It took her a minute to bring herself to open the message, and when she did, a hand came up to her mouth to hold back the sob that wanted to slip out.
Near The Eye. Come find me? Jag was here, and she had no idea what it meant that she was here too. Or what she was supposed to say. Or where to try to find him, if he didn't want to come to her.
Near the Eye. Em did love it there. His Em. Tears welled up in Jag's eyes again, but he stood up from his bed as he wiped them away. Jake was watching him with worry, standing in his doorway, and Jag gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Meeting up with Em. I'll explain tonight, I swear," he told his friend, squeezed a hand on his hip as he walked past him.
"You'd better," Jake answered as Jag headed out of the squat. "Else I'll sic Ollie on you!"
Jag's heart ached with how much he had missed his friends (despite having never stopped living with them), and he smiled at the threat, looked back over his shoulder as he reached their front door. "I love you, mate."
It was somewhat heartening that the words seemed to have managed to shut up Jake, who looked proper gobsmacked. Jag stepped out before the momentary miracle came to an end, and hurried off towards the nearest Tube station. His heart might ache with how much he had missed his squatmates, but his heart soared towards Em more than anyone else. On my way, he typed as he walked.
It was a good half hour before he emerged from Waterloo. This time, he rang Em up, and hoped that the phone would hide at least some of the emotion in his voice. "I'm here. Where are you?"
Having realized Jag would probably be taking the Tube, Emma had looked up the location of the nearest station on her phone and discovered she'd been set up along the most obvious route, which made sense. Catch the tourists on their way to or from the landmark, read their fortunes. And when Jag said he was on his way, she'd started paying more attention to the people coming from that direction. So when the phone began to play The Duhks Burn and she realized it was a call coming in, giving him more specific directions to where she was, that was the easy part. Not letting the emotions choke off her words, nor bursting into tears, those were the hard parts. And if she thought she heard something in Jag's tone, well, she couldn't judge.
Then she saw him coming down the sidewalk, and she ran up to him, phone still in hand, and threw her arms around him. "I'm sorry," muffled against his neck. "I'm so sorry."
Jag's heart was in his throat again, and he was bloody well running towards her by the time he saw the flash of red hair. But then she went and clung to him, and of course his arms went around her, instinctively, that wasn't ever a question. Was she apologising? Why was she apologising? Concern for her overrode his joy, his relief and everything else. "What's wrong?" he asked, and ran his fingers through her hair.
"I wasn't careful enough." And here she was, letting him comfort her, when she should be... Emma didn't know what she should be, other than so sorry, and she was that. She couldn't bring herself to let go, but she blinked and bit her lip and let out a slow breath to try to keep the tears from falling. "I... I meant to send you back to her, and instead I'm..."
"What are you..." Jag trailed off as understanding slammed through him like a fucking freight train. He stopped breathing for a few seconds, as the pain bloomed through him, and there was no hiding the tears welling up in his eyes as he pulled back to look at her. Look at Emma. She wasn't... "No," he said, and shook his head. "No, you look - you look like you did this morning. Here. Not there. You... She... Why would..." The tears started rolling down his face, but still he tried to make words happen, through the confusion and the pain, through shorter, more panicked breaths. "Why would you come here? This isn't your home."
Even when Emma tried to do the right thing for Jag, she ended up hurting him. "I don't know," she told him, voice soft, reaching up to cup his jaw, her thumb brushing over his cheek. You look like you did this morning. Here. Not there. So he remembered, the inn and here, unless he showed up here earlier than she did? There must be something wrong with her, the way the tears in her own eyes dried up and she felt... steadier, like she could maybe think, when Jag was so close to falling apart. She wanted to tell him it would be okay, but how could any of this be okay.
"I screwed up. Missed a loophole or something in how the deal was interpreted." She'd tried so hard to think it through, get the wording just right, and now she couldn't remember exactly what they'd said to see where she messed up. "I am so sorry, Jag."
This couldn't be real. Jag's mind and heart rebelled against the notion, against the unfairness, against the black chasm that opened inside him at the thought that Em was gone. This was her body, but it wasn't her, and what had happened to her? To her spirit, her heart, her mind, her soul? "What - where is she?" he managed to get out, the words choked out amid the tears closing up his throat. He grabbed Emma's wrists so she would stop touching him, because he couldn't. They had said goodbye, and this was meant to be his Em.
Her fingers curled down over themselves when he stopped her from touching him. Emma had to focus on Jag, and what would make this easier for him. Her own comfort and needs would have to wait. "I..." There was something, just a feeling, but could she give him hope with something so slim? That would be too cruel. "I don't know. Jag... I'm sorry. This isn't what I wanted, for any of us."
Jag realised he was still holding on to her wrists and let go of them, then wiped his hands over his face. Stop bloody crying. His throat smarted so badly, but he managed to stop the tears from streaming down his face. He couldn't even play with his fire here to settle himself down, the way he'd grown used to doing at the Inn. That was about the only thing that fucking place had had going for it.
That, and Coby. And Curnen. If Emma was here, maybe they would be here too?
He patted his pockets until he found a soft pack of cigarettes, battered and a week old, he distantly knew, remembered. He didn't bother pretending to use a lighter; no one would be paying attention. The cherry wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.
"It's not your fault," he said, after blowing out acrid smoke. "It's the fucking Fae." He should've known. He sniffed, and took another drag. "Come on, then, I'll take you to the squat."
Catching herself starting to wrap her arms around her waist, when she really wanted to reach for Jag again, instead Emma held onto the strap of her bag. "Are you sure?" He had spent the first three months at the inn avoiding their rooms so as not to make her uncomfortable. Maybe he wouldn't want her in their home. "I can figure out something else if it's a problem." She wasn't sure what, but something.
"You liked Ollie, right?" Jag asked, not quite looking her in the eye. He didn't want her to read everything in his, just then, so his gaze kept drifting to one thing or another.
She wanted to tell him it wasn't Ollie she was worried about. It wasn't even the Jake she only knew from things Jag, and Ollie, had said. She wanted to tell him, but with the way Jag refused to meet her eyes, and having some idea why, she gave a hint of a smile. "Yeah, I like Ollie," was all she said. It would be like before, with Sunny, people expecting her to know them in ways she didn't. But maybe, if she was lucky, Ollie could help Emma figure out how to make it not so painful for Jag. Even if that meant finding somewhere else to live after a night or two.
"You always got along," Jag said, and immediately felt shitty for it. "I mean, I know you're not her. But you're still... I think you'll get along, too." Fuck, tears were brimming up in his eyes again, and he looked away to take another drag off his cigarette. He took a couple of seconds, and then, "We can find you a hotel or summat, if you'd rather."
"Jag." This would be easier if he would look at her. Or at least easier for her, but this wasn't about Emma. "I'd rather be at the squat. I just... if it gets to be too much, or too hard, or too painful for you, promise you'll tell me. I know, we talked about it; I'm not responsible for your feelings, but I hate you hurting because of me."
"I'll let you know," Jag agreed, very briefly meeting her gaze. Then he gestured for them to start heading towards the tube station, and turned to lead the way, taking another drag. It was too painful right now, was the thing, but it would get better. Somehow. It had at the Inn.
It was stupid to wish for the temple again, when he had hated being stuck there. But he had no place of his own he could run to right now. He'd have to move his things out of Em's, too, but he couldn't face doing that now. It was all he could do to keep from crumbling down here and now, but he would get Emma to the squat, try and explain things to the boys as much as he could, and then run. He was good at running. Always had been.
If he listened to himself, he would be running right now.
Jag wasn't responsible for her feelings either, and pretty sure he was putting her ahead of him again, she almost reminded him of that. But he could be as stubborn as her, and pushing on this... she couldn't. Not when it would probably hurt him more to make a bigger deal of it. So she followed him to the tube station, fingers twisting in the strap of her bag and with each other when she wanted the familiar comfort of her cards. Silence between them as they traveled, trying to give Jag whatever space she could when she couldn't leave him alone, Emma couldn't keep herself out of the spiral of thoughts, guilt, and sadness at all the ways she'd messed things up making the deal that had brought them here. She probably should have been paying better attention to where they were going and how they were getting there, but it passed almost in a haze.
Off the train at the other end of their journey, as they left the station Emma turned without thinking, before Jag had had a chance to show which way they were headed. She didn't even notice she'd done it, or how it felt like her feet just knew where to go, not that she could have said where that was. That she had turned in the correct direction to go to the squat would have been a complete surprise. And yet... not.
Jag felt on the edge of too many conflicting emotions, on that entire Tube ride. He couldn't distract himself with fire anymore, so he had nothing to focus on but Emma (how he wanted to lean into her, breathe her in, let the rest of the world fall away until he didn't remember how fucked up this entire situation was) and the mess of feelings inside his chest, grief at the forefront. His relief at being back had been so short-lived, and now that he knew that his Em was gone, he didn't know how he was supposed to feel joy again, ever, without feeling guilty as well.
He was too mired in his thoughts, when they emerged from the Tube, to notice anything, and just fell in stride with Emma.
"I haven't explained anything to Jake and Ollie yet," he said, his throat tight at the thought of having to tell them that Em was gone. That would make it so horribly real. Tears welled up in his eyes again and he pulled another cigarette out immediately.
Oh. So... they wouldn't know about the inn. "I'll help." It would have to help, having both of them talking about having been trapped together. "And I can tell them about... about me not remembering." And then they could be there for Jag. At least he had his friends back. And Ollie was nice, and he cared about Jag lots. That part would be okay. Emma would just stay out of their way, unless they had questions or something.
She'd been using the grip on her bag to keep her hands still, but the need to wrap her arms around her waist got too strong. She felt like it was the only thing to keep her from bleeding feelings out all over the place. She wanted to go home. She wanted to stop hurting Jag just by being herself. She wanted... she wanted to be his Em, for him. And for herself, if she was going to be stuck here now.
Her not remembering. It was such a sedate way of putting it, when what it meant was that Em was gone, and she was here instead. She might look more like her than she had at the Inn, but so what? Jag knew better than to read anything into that.
"Thank you," he agreed, because he wasn't sure he could do it alone. Oh, he hated everything about this. He had thought he was losing her to get his Em back, but now it was the other way around and it felt like a betrayal that part of him was glad of her presence, drowned in grief though that gladness was.
Emma almost asked if she could hug him again, but that would have been for her, and maybe not for him. Touch could be so comforting to Jag, but her touch, especially now, probably wasn't wanted. She almost asked if he'd found Coby to give him one of the flowers, but what if he hadn't? What if the fae magic had screwed them over even more and the Coby here, if there was one, didn't remember Jag?
"Ollie and Jake will understand," she hoped aloud, trying to convince herself while encouraging him. "Well, maybe not understand, because it's nuts, but they'll be there for you."
"Yeah," Jag agreed, although he wasn't sure how they could do that. They would want to, but he wasn't sure what kind of comfort there could be to relieve that sort of fucked up pain. He wanted to burn the entire world down, to curl up in her arms, to shout himself raw, to kiss her again, to find sweet physical pain to forget it all for a moment, to drink himself stupid, to rush over to Coby's, and to stay away from him. For fear that Coby, unlike her, wouldn't be the one from the Inn. That Curnen wouldn't either. What would he do then?
"For you, too," he added, because it was true, because they would be. Jag believed that entirely. They had taken to Em, his Em, and they would take to Emma, once they explained.
Emma believed Jag. But she didn't want to think about being stuck in a new world, again, when she'd thought she was going home to Duninnean. About having to meet people who already knew a version of her, again. About how she hurt Jag just by being who she was, and not being the version of her he needed her to be. Of being in a place where she would have to hide what she could do. She couldn't let herself think about what she'd paid to bring them here, when the visions were still there wanting to replay.
It had been worth it, to get Jag out of that prison and back here. The inn was killing them all slowly. It had been worth it, she told herself, again. And as long as she focused on Jag, she could mostly believe that. "If nothing else, they'll be two more people to eat the results of my 'chop vegetables, boil water' meditations."
"They will," Jag assured her, also without a doubt. Jake would eat anything put in front of him, and Ollie often came out of his bouts of art-making starving. As they neared the squat, he started to see past his own angst to think about what it must be like for Emma. So self-absorbed, as usual. His steps slowed, and he turned to her, trying to read her face. "Hey. Fancy a hug?"
She'd been wanting a hug. And to hug him, which wasn't the same thing, even though the action would be the same. But she'd held back, since Jag had made it clear he didn't want her touching him, and she was trying to not hurt him any more than she already was by being herself, here. She didn't have time to hide her surprise at the offer, but she followed it up with a weak smile. "Only if you do too."
If Jag stopped to think about it too hard, he wouldn't do it. He knew it, and he wanted this hug too much now, no matter how much part of him still wanted to run away. So he didn't pause, just stepped in close and wrapped his arms around her, the embrace fiercer than he had meant. "I thought I'd never see you again," he muttered, throat tight with emotions. Emotions that included guilt, and shame, but also relief and love. He shut his eyes against the tears welling up in them, and held her tight.
As soon as he stepped close, Emma's arms opened to wrap him into a tight hug, relief washing over her. She couldn't say anything, words choked back by too many feelings and another apology that wouldn't help either of them. The feel of Jag's arms around her, the smell of smoke and soap and him, if she really thought about what it was she was feeling, why it was so comforting even when they hurt, she might have had a clue why the fae magic had sent her to this world, this city, this time. But she wasn't thinking about any of that right then, just holding him, and holding herself together. Mostly together. She blinked twice before shutting her eyes against the tears welling up.
Jag stayed like that for a long moment, letting the feelings cycle through him again and again, from love to shame to grief and back to love, until he thought his heart was going to literally break from the pain if he kept breathing her in, holding her against him, and wanting to kiss her, which only made his emotions spiral higher. He wiped at his eyes as he pulled back, and he nodded in the direction of the squat. "C'mon." He swallowed against the lump in his throat and tried to use his voice a little better, as he led the way, unable to look at her for the pain twisting in on itself in his chest. His fingers twitched with the urge to bring out some fire, but he held back while they were out on the street. "Jake's probably worked himself into a right frenzy."
Jag pulled back, and Emma had to do the same when part of her wanted to never let go, no matter how much it hurt holding on. But she didn't want to hurt him either, so, space, and ignoring their tears. Focus on Jag, on Jake and Ollie, and having to try to explain all of this to them. "Let's hope Ollie's around and talked him down to a tizzy." Thanks to the Ghosts of Christmas thing, she knew Ollie a little, and how steadying he could be, and she felt like she knew Jake some too, from listening to Jag talk about him. Enough to picture him getting himself all worked up, and imagining Ollie being able to help.
Jag didn't even know if Ollie was around, hadn't paused to check, like the arsehole he was, focused as he'd been on finding Em. He'd been so consumed with wanting his reunion, and he'd run out on a worried Jake, hadn't even bothered to hug his other roommate. He nodded mutely in agreement, not trusting his voice, but as they took down the alley to the back entrance they always used, he berated himself. Time to get a fucking grip, and not let Emma have to do all the heavy lifting. He swallowed a couple of times and, blinked rapidly to get rid of his tears, and slowed when they reached the back door. He looked back at Emma, and held a hand out to her.
Em always used to say his eyes said everything he couldn't (and even most things he wouldn't). He hoped they carried the message now, the one word he felt beating inside his chest, an offer and a prayer. Together?
Emma slipped her hand into his and gave a gentle squeeze. Was he just braver than her, offering his hand when she'd been afraid to do it first? Or had she been trying to give him space? She didn't know, and what she saw in his eyes didn't help her figure out what was in her heart. But together was better, it was good. They could do this. "It'll be okay," she said softly, trying to reassure herself, and maybe Jag too.
That was what they always said, wasn't it. Jag smiled a little, for her more than for him, and nodded. Then he turned back towards the door, and they walked in. Together.
One moment, Jag was holding on tight to Coby and Curnen. Then an eternity passed, and he stumbled as he found his feet suddenly beating a pavement. He caught himself and looked around, heart leaping into his throat. Bright sunlight bathed the neighbourhood he knew so well. His feet carried him on as he mechanically adjusted the strap of his gear bag on his shoulder.
His clothes were different, he realised with a frown, and he nearly tripped on his own feet again as dissonant memories rushed him. The clothes he had been wearing at the Inn. Those he wore now, that he had put on this morning, at the squat. He'd kissed Em before heading out for the day - he'd kissed Emma goodbye, never to see her again. He'd seen Ollie just last night; he hadn't seen him since that Ghost of Christmas stint. He'd held Coby a minute ago; he hadn't seen him in months.
He wiped a hand over his face as he picked up the pace, tried to ignore the way his memories all scraped against each other. His time at the Inn; his time in London. Even his emotions had trouble reconciling, and his throat tightened at the thought of Coby and Curnen. He broke into a run before long, and reached the squat a breathless mess. He'd seen Jake and Ollie yesterday; he had missed them so much, over the long months of his stay at the Inn. And Em... Em.
Jake was sitting in the lounge, sideways on the couch with his back to an arm, the laptop from Fin's Christmas party a couple of years ago on his lap, watching something he put on pause when Jag walked in.
"All right?" Jake greeted him easily. "Good day out there?"
"Em around?" Jag asked in return, and he knew he didn't sound all right, probably didn't look all right.
"Still out," Jake replied with a frown. He moved to set the laptop aside and stand. "What's wrong?"
Jag's gear bag hit the floor, and he stepped forward to hug his roommate tight. "Nothing. I mean..." Tears started rolling down his cheeks. "This is... I can't..."
Jag couldn't make more words come, even as Jake asked question after question, never at a loss for words himself. Jag couldn't answer any of them, and eventually, he told his friend as much. "I'll tell you in a bit. Not... now." He pulled back slowly. "I've got to see Em, all right? But I'm all right." He wiped the tears off his face. "I am."
He would be, as soon as he saw Em. He was already pulling out his phone - a new phone he'd never used before, a phone he'd been using for six months or so - to text her as he walked into their room. His hands were shaking, so it took him a while to manage, but eventually he managed something short and to the point. He couldn't try to explain anything over the phone. Where are you, bab? I need to see you.
One moment, Emma was saying goodbye to Sunny and thinking she should try to find Lillith. The next, she found herself in London, deck of cards fanned out in front of her, and the London Eye looming ahead.
She tried to tell herself she'd been at the inn for a year and a half. It was possible while she was gone they'd rebuilt the landmark that Alex and Lorna had melted. But a city like London, it wasn't that hard to find signs of mutants going about their lives, and she didn't see any. She was already scooping up the cards to shuffle them before she decided to look for answers, the familiar motions a necessary comfort. She was still puzzling over the images the cards showed her, one spread after another, all giving her the same answers, when the phone in the bag resting at her hip buzzed with a text. Emma started at the vibration, made herself take a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then she reached into the unfamiliar messenger bag for the phone right where she expected it to be.
A text from Jag.
Tears pricked, breath snagged, lump grew in her throat. It took her a minute to bring herself to open the message, and when she did, a hand came up to her mouth to hold back the sob that wanted to slip out.
Near The Eye. Come find me? Jag was here, and she had no idea what it meant that she was here too. Or what she was supposed to say. Or where to try to find him, if he didn't want to come to her.
Near the Eye. Em did love it there. His Em. Tears welled up in Jag's eyes again, but he stood up from his bed as he wiped them away. Jake was watching him with worry, standing in his doorway, and Jag gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Meeting up with Em. I'll explain tonight, I swear," he told his friend, squeezed a hand on his hip as he walked past him.
"You'd better," Jake answered as Jag headed out of the squat. "Else I'll sic Ollie on you!"
Jag's heart ached with how much he had missed his friends (despite having never stopped living with them), and he smiled at the threat, looked back over his shoulder as he reached their front door. "I love you, mate."
It was somewhat heartening that the words seemed to have managed to shut up Jake, who looked proper gobsmacked. Jag stepped out before the momentary miracle came to an end, and hurried off towards the nearest Tube station. His heart might ache with how much he had missed his squatmates, but his heart soared towards Em more than anyone else. On my way, he typed as he walked.
It was a good half hour before he emerged from Waterloo. This time, he rang Em up, and hoped that the phone would hide at least some of the emotion in his voice. "I'm here. Where are you?"
Having realized Jag would probably be taking the Tube, Emma had looked up the location of the nearest station on her phone and discovered she'd been set up along the most obvious route, which made sense. Catch the tourists on their way to or from the landmark, read their fortunes. And when Jag said he was on his way, she'd started paying more attention to the people coming from that direction. So when the phone began to play The Duhks Burn and she realized it was a call coming in, giving him more specific directions to where she was, that was the easy part. Not letting the emotions choke off her words, nor bursting into tears, those were the hard parts. And if she thought she heard something in Jag's tone, well, she couldn't judge.
Then she saw him coming down the sidewalk, and she ran up to him, phone still in hand, and threw her arms around him. "I'm sorry," muffled against his neck. "I'm so sorry."
Jag's heart was in his throat again, and he was bloody well running towards her by the time he saw the flash of red hair. But then she went and clung to him, and of course his arms went around her, instinctively, that wasn't ever a question. Was she apologising? Why was she apologising? Concern for her overrode his joy, his relief and everything else. "What's wrong?" he asked, and ran his fingers through her hair.
"I wasn't careful enough." And here she was, letting him comfort her, when she should be... Emma didn't know what she should be, other than so sorry, and she was that. She couldn't bring herself to let go, but she blinked and bit her lip and let out a slow breath to try to keep the tears from falling. "I... I meant to send you back to her, and instead I'm..."
"What are you..." Jag trailed off as understanding slammed through him like a fucking freight train. He stopped breathing for a few seconds, as the pain bloomed through him, and there was no hiding the tears welling up in his eyes as he pulled back to look at her. Look at Emma. She wasn't... "No," he said, and shook his head. "No, you look - you look like you did this morning. Here. Not there. You... She... Why would..." The tears started rolling down his face, but still he tried to make words happen, through the confusion and the pain, through shorter, more panicked breaths. "Why would you come here? This isn't your home."
Even when Emma tried to do the right thing for Jag, she ended up hurting him. "I don't know," she told him, voice soft, reaching up to cup his jaw, her thumb brushing over his cheek. You look like you did this morning. Here. Not there. So he remembered, the inn and here, unless he showed up here earlier than she did? There must be something wrong with her, the way the tears in her own eyes dried up and she felt... steadier, like she could maybe think, when Jag was so close to falling apart. She wanted to tell him it would be okay, but how could any of this be okay.
"I screwed up. Missed a loophole or something in how the deal was interpreted." She'd tried so hard to think it through, get the wording just right, and now she couldn't remember exactly what they'd said to see where she messed up. "I am so sorry, Jag."
This couldn't be real. Jag's mind and heart rebelled against the notion, against the unfairness, against the black chasm that opened inside him at the thought that Em was gone. This was her body, but it wasn't her, and what had happened to her? To her spirit, her heart, her mind, her soul? "What - where is she?" he managed to get out, the words choked out amid the tears closing up his throat. He grabbed Emma's wrists so she would stop touching him, because he couldn't. They had said goodbye, and this was meant to be his Em.
Her fingers curled down over themselves when he stopped her from touching him. Emma had to focus on Jag, and what would make this easier for him. Her own comfort and needs would have to wait. "I..." There was something, just a feeling, but could she give him hope with something so slim? That would be too cruel. "I don't know. Jag... I'm sorry. This isn't what I wanted, for any of us."
Jag realised he was still holding on to her wrists and let go of them, then wiped his hands over his face. Stop bloody crying. His throat smarted so badly, but he managed to stop the tears from streaming down his face. He couldn't even play with his fire here to settle himself down, the way he'd grown used to doing at the Inn. That was about the only thing that fucking place had had going for it.
That, and Coby. And Curnen. If Emma was here, maybe they would be here too?
He patted his pockets until he found a soft pack of cigarettes, battered and a week old, he distantly knew, remembered. He didn't bother pretending to use a lighter; no one would be paying attention. The cherry wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.
"It's not your fault," he said, after blowing out acrid smoke. "It's the fucking Fae." He should've known. He sniffed, and took another drag. "Come on, then, I'll take you to the squat."
Catching herself starting to wrap her arms around her waist, when she really wanted to reach for Jag again, instead Emma held onto the strap of her bag. "Are you sure?" He had spent the first three months at the inn avoiding their rooms so as not to make her uncomfortable. Maybe he wouldn't want her in their home. "I can figure out something else if it's a problem." She wasn't sure what, but something.
"You liked Ollie, right?" Jag asked, not quite looking her in the eye. He didn't want her to read everything in his, just then, so his gaze kept drifting to one thing or another.
She wanted to tell him it wasn't Ollie she was worried about. It wasn't even the Jake she only knew from things Jag, and Ollie, had said. She wanted to tell him, but with the way Jag refused to meet her eyes, and having some idea why, she gave a hint of a smile. "Yeah, I like Ollie," was all she said. It would be like before, with Sunny, people expecting her to know them in ways she didn't. But maybe, if she was lucky, Ollie could help Emma figure out how to make it not so painful for Jag. Even if that meant finding somewhere else to live after a night or two.
"You always got along," Jag said, and immediately felt shitty for it. "I mean, I know you're not her. But you're still... I think you'll get along, too." Fuck, tears were brimming up in his eyes again, and he looked away to take another drag off his cigarette. He took a couple of seconds, and then, "We can find you a hotel or summat, if you'd rather."
"Jag." This would be easier if he would look at her. Or at least easier for her, but this wasn't about Emma. "I'd rather be at the squat. I just... if it gets to be too much, or too hard, or too painful for you, promise you'll tell me. I know, we talked about it; I'm not responsible for your feelings, but I hate you hurting because of me."
"I'll let you know," Jag agreed, very briefly meeting her gaze. Then he gestured for them to start heading towards the tube station, and turned to lead the way, taking another drag. It was too painful right now, was the thing, but it would get better. Somehow. It had at the Inn.
It was stupid to wish for the temple again, when he had hated being stuck there. But he had no place of his own he could run to right now. He'd have to move his things out of Em's, too, but he couldn't face doing that now. It was all he could do to keep from crumbling down here and now, but he would get Emma to the squat, try and explain things to the boys as much as he could, and then run. He was good at running. Always had been.
If he listened to himself, he would be running right now.
Jag wasn't responsible for her feelings either, and pretty sure he was putting her ahead of him again, she almost reminded him of that. But he could be as stubborn as her, and pushing on this... she couldn't. Not when it would probably hurt him more to make a bigger deal of it. So she followed him to the tube station, fingers twisting in the strap of her bag and with each other when she wanted the familiar comfort of her cards. Silence between them as they traveled, trying to give Jag whatever space she could when she couldn't leave him alone, Emma couldn't keep herself out of the spiral of thoughts, guilt, and sadness at all the ways she'd messed things up making the deal that had brought them here. She probably should have been paying better attention to where they were going and how they were getting there, but it passed almost in a haze.
Off the train at the other end of their journey, as they left the station Emma turned without thinking, before Jag had had a chance to show which way they were headed. She didn't even notice she'd done it, or how it felt like her feet just knew where to go, not that she could have said where that was. That she had turned in the correct direction to go to the squat would have been a complete surprise. And yet... not.
Jag felt on the edge of too many conflicting emotions, on that entire Tube ride. He couldn't distract himself with fire anymore, so he had nothing to focus on but Emma (how he wanted to lean into her, breathe her in, let the rest of the world fall away until he didn't remember how fucked up this entire situation was) and the mess of feelings inside his chest, grief at the forefront. His relief at being back had been so short-lived, and now that he knew that his Em was gone, he didn't know how he was supposed to feel joy again, ever, without feeling guilty as well.
He was too mired in his thoughts, when they emerged from the Tube, to notice anything, and just fell in stride with Emma.
"I haven't explained anything to Jake and Ollie yet," he said, his throat tight at the thought of having to tell them that Em was gone. That would make it so horribly real. Tears welled up in his eyes again and he pulled another cigarette out immediately.
Oh. So... they wouldn't know about the inn. "I'll help." It would have to help, having both of them talking about having been trapped together. "And I can tell them about... about me not remembering." And then they could be there for Jag. At least he had his friends back. And Ollie was nice, and he cared about Jag lots. That part would be okay. Emma would just stay out of their way, unless they had questions or something.
She'd been using the grip on her bag to keep her hands still, but the need to wrap her arms around her waist got too strong. She felt like it was the only thing to keep her from bleeding feelings out all over the place. She wanted to go home. She wanted to stop hurting Jag just by being herself. She wanted... she wanted to be his Em, for him. And for herself, if she was going to be stuck here now.
Her not remembering. It was such a sedate way of putting it, when what it meant was that Em was gone, and she was here instead. She might look more like her than she had at the Inn, but so what? Jag knew better than to read anything into that.
"Thank you," he agreed, because he wasn't sure he could do it alone. Oh, he hated everything about this. He had thought he was losing her to get his Em back, but now it was the other way around and it felt like a betrayal that part of him was glad of her presence, drowned in grief though that gladness was.
Emma almost asked if she could hug him again, but that would have been for her, and maybe not for him. Touch could be so comforting to Jag, but her touch, especially now, probably wasn't wanted. She almost asked if he'd found Coby to give him one of the flowers, but what if he hadn't? What if the fae magic had screwed them over even more and the Coby here, if there was one, didn't remember Jag?
"Ollie and Jake will understand," she hoped aloud, trying to convince herself while encouraging him. "Well, maybe not understand, because it's nuts, but they'll be there for you."
"Yeah," Jag agreed, although he wasn't sure how they could do that. They would want to, but he wasn't sure what kind of comfort there could be to relieve that sort of fucked up pain. He wanted to burn the entire world down, to curl up in her arms, to shout himself raw, to kiss her again, to find sweet physical pain to forget it all for a moment, to drink himself stupid, to rush over to Coby's, and to stay away from him. For fear that Coby, unlike her, wouldn't be the one from the Inn. That Curnen wouldn't either. What would he do then?
"For you, too," he added, because it was true, because they would be. Jag believed that entirely. They had taken to Em, his Em, and they would take to Emma, once they explained.
Emma believed Jag. But she didn't want to think about being stuck in a new world, again, when she'd thought she was going home to Duninnean. About having to meet people who already knew a version of her, again. About how she hurt Jag just by being who she was, and not being the version of her he needed her to be. Of being in a place where she would have to hide what she could do. She couldn't let herself think about what she'd paid to bring them here, when the visions were still there wanting to replay.
It had been worth it, to get Jag out of that prison and back here. The inn was killing them all slowly. It had been worth it, she told herself, again. And as long as she focused on Jag, she could mostly believe that. "If nothing else, they'll be two more people to eat the results of my 'chop vegetables, boil water' meditations."
"They will," Jag assured her, also without a doubt. Jake would eat anything put in front of him, and Ollie often came out of his bouts of art-making starving. As they neared the squat, he started to see past his own angst to think about what it must be like for Emma. So self-absorbed, as usual. His steps slowed, and he turned to her, trying to read her face. "Hey. Fancy a hug?"
She'd been wanting a hug. And to hug him, which wasn't the same thing, even though the action would be the same. But she'd held back, since Jag had made it clear he didn't want her touching him, and she was trying to not hurt him any more than she already was by being herself, here. She didn't have time to hide her surprise at the offer, but she followed it up with a weak smile. "Only if you do too."
If Jag stopped to think about it too hard, he wouldn't do it. He knew it, and he wanted this hug too much now, no matter how much part of him still wanted to run away. So he didn't pause, just stepped in close and wrapped his arms around her, the embrace fiercer than he had meant. "I thought I'd never see you again," he muttered, throat tight with emotions. Emotions that included guilt, and shame, but also relief and love. He shut his eyes against the tears welling up in them, and held her tight.
As soon as he stepped close, Emma's arms opened to wrap him into a tight hug, relief washing over her. She couldn't say anything, words choked back by too many feelings and another apology that wouldn't help either of them. The feel of Jag's arms around her, the smell of smoke and soap and him, if she really thought about what it was she was feeling, why it was so comforting even when they hurt, she might have had a clue why the fae magic had sent her to this world, this city, this time. But she wasn't thinking about any of that right then, just holding him, and holding herself together. Mostly together. She blinked twice before shutting her eyes against the tears welling up.
Jag stayed like that for a long moment, letting the feelings cycle through him again and again, from love to shame to grief and back to love, until he thought his heart was going to literally break from the pain if he kept breathing her in, holding her against him, and wanting to kiss her, which only made his emotions spiral higher. He wiped at his eyes as he pulled back, and he nodded in the direction of the squat. "C'mon." He swallowed against the lump in his throat and tried to use his voice a little better, as he led the way, unable to look at her for the pain twisting in on itself in his chest. His fingers twitched with the urge to bring out some fire, but he held back while they were out on the street. "Jake's probably worked himself into a right frenzy."
Jag pulled back, and Emma had to do the same when part of her wanted to never let go, no matter how much it hurt holding on. But she didn't want to hurt him either, so, space, and ignoring their tears. Focus on Jag, on Jake and Ollie, and having to try to explain all of this to them. "Let's hope Ollie's around and talked him down to a tizzy." Thanks to the Ghosts of Christmas thing, she knew Ollie a little, and how steadying he could be, and she felt like she knew Jake some too, from listening to Jag talk about him. Enough to picture him getting himself all worked up, and imagining Ollie being able to help.
Jag didn't even know if Ollie was around, hadn't paused to check, like the arsehole he was, focused as he'd been on finding Em. He'd been so consumed with wanting his reunion, and he'd run out on a worried Jake, hadn't even bothered to hug his other roommate. He nodded mutely in agreement, not trusting his voice, but as they took down the alley to the back entrance they always used, he berated himself. Time to get a fucking grip, and not let Emma have to do all the heavy lifting. He swallowed a couple of times and, blinked rapidly to get rid of his tears, and slowed when they reached the back door. He looked back at Emma, and held a hand out to her.
Em always used to say his eyes said everything he couldn't (and even most things he wouldn't). He hoped they carried the message now, the one word he felt beating inside his chest, an offer and a prayer. Together?
Emma slipped her hand into his and gave a gentle squeeze. Was he just braver than her, offering his hand when she'd been afraid to do it first? Or had she been trying to give him space? She didn't know, and what she saw in his eyes didn't help her figure out what was in her heart. But together was better, it was good. They could do this. "It'll be okay," she said softly, trying to reassure herself, and maybe Jag too.
That was what they always said, wasn't it. Jag smiled a little, for her more than for him, and nodded. Then he turned back towards the door, and they walked in. Together.
