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You can't change the past. Lilly knows that. She knows it very well indeed, and so that's not why she's picking her way carefully towards January, Cairo, 1938 through the ever-shifting landscape of the Dreaming. She's not looking to change what's happened to Indy, no matter how guilty she feels about deserting him. She's just looking for a way to make it up to him.
Dreaming-travel is never an easy or an exact thing. Lilly concentrates, skimming through dream after dream, stepping carefully through the unconscious minds of millions of people. There's sand, a desert shimmering with heat and she moves that way, deeper into those dreams. A uniformed officer is barking instructions to a group of chattering monkeys in a language she thinks is German. The uniform itself is familiar enough. Lilly lets herself fall into the man's dream, blinking from a feeling that's something like slowly sinking under still water and materializes in a dark bedroom.
Next to a bed containing a sleeping Nazi officer. Well. Damn. At least it worked?
She edges as slowly as possible away from the bed, glancing around the room. It's bare, containing only a chair and a chest of drawers from what she can see in the pale moonlight filtering in through striped cotton curtains. No sign of what she's after, not that she's surprised. These trophies wouldn't be kept in a bedroom.
Lilly makes it to the door without disturbing the sleeping man. With stealth born of a hundred late nights sneaking out, she pulls the door open and slips into the deserted hallway. The house itself is quiet, but she can hear a steady tromping of boots circling the grounds. She's guessing they increased security a bit since Mike and Mel's trip here. Of course, said security doesn't account for people magically showing up inside the house.
Moving as silently as she can, Lilly creeps down the hallway. If I were a Nazi asshole who'd taken someone's stuff and tortured them, where would I keep it? Maybe- Her train of thought derails abruptly as she spots a light coming from under the door at the end of the passageway. Slipping closer, she can make out voices.
[No, I do not know why they are making us look over this file again. Bleidecker is dead and Jones is long gone. These radio reports are clearly the result of sunstroke. Flying carpets?]
It sounds frustrated, and... German. Beyond that, Lilly's got nothing. Stupid Nazis. There's a lower voice murmuring something else she can't even pick out, let alone understand, and then the first voice replies.
[I agree. Put the files in the Jones box and we can be done, at least for the night.]
The light clicks off, and Lilly freezes, slipping back into the shadows and pressing herself into a doorway. The door opens, and two Nazi officers emerge.
Okay. If they turn left, I'm dead. er. Deader. If they go down the stairs, I'm okay. Lilly reminds herself that she's okay either way, really, thanks to the Dreaming. Her subconscious then decides that now would be the perfect time to remind her that vanishing to the Dreaming is always much more difficult under stress.
Godownthestairsgodownthestairsgodownthestairsgodownthestairs
Lilly can't kill people with her brain, but apparently she can encourage them to take the stairs. The officers walk off, still talking, and Lilly relaxes as she hears their boots descending the staircase.
God. Too close. She takes a deep breath, waits a moment longer, and then practically tiptoes to the room the officers vacated and slips inside. There's enough light coming in through the window that she doesn't risk flipping the switch for the bare bulb dangling from the ceiling. The room appears to have been converted into an office with file cabinets lining the walls and a long conference table and a few folding chairs as the only furniture. The table is strewn with papers, files, and a few boxes. She takes a cautious step closer, and...
There it is.
Lilly grins, her smile gleeful in the moonlight, and picks up the box. Everything's in it, along with a thick sheaf of papers she can't read but Indy might be interested in. Perfect. This was easy.
Before she can even kick herself for the thought, she hears the boots coming back up the stairs. Fuuuuuuuuck. Okay. Deep breaths. Lilly breathes in, exhales, focusing on the Dreaming- and not the steadily louder footsteps.
Thinking about the Dreaming... thinking about the Dreaming... thinking about the Dreaming... thinking about- ohshitthedoorisopening!
[What the hell!]
The two officers are staring at her, and as the first one's hand drops towards his gun, Lilly discovers that panic is actually extremely effective in aiding concentration. She fades out, clutching the box, a string of incomprehensible but probably obscene German words echoing in her ears as she returns to the Dreaming with her mission completed.
Lilly knows better than to change the past. Stealing from it, however? She's toally fine with that.
Dreaming-travel is never an easy or an exact thing. Lilly concentrates, skimming through dream after dream, stepping carefully through the unconscious minds of millions of people. There's sand, a desert shimmering with heat and she moves that way, deeper into those dreams. A uniformed officer is barking instructions to a group of chattering monkeys in a language she thinks is German. The uniform itself is familiar enough. Lilly lets herself fall into the man's dream, blinking from a feeling that's something like slowly sinking under still water and materializes in a dark bedroom.
Next to a bed containing a sleeping Nazi officer. Well. Damn. At least it worked?
She edges as slowly as possible away from the bed, glancing around the room. It's bare, containing only a chair and a chest of drawers from what she can see in the pale moonlight filtering in through striped cotton curtains. No sign of what she's after, not that she's surprised. These trophies wouldn't be kept in a bedroom.
Lilly makes it to the door without disturbing the sleeping man. With stealth born of a hundred late nights sneaking out, she pulls the door open and slips into the deserted hallway. The house itself is quiet, but she can hear a steady tromping of boots circling the grounds. She's guessing they increased security a bit since Mike and Mel's trip here. Of course, said security doesn't account for people magically showing up inside the house.
Moving as silently as she can, Lilly creeps down the hallway. If I were a Nazi asshole who'd taken someone's stuff and tortured them, where would I keep it? Maybe- Her train of thought derails abruptly as she spots a light coming from under the door at the end of the passageway. Slipping closer, she can make out voices.
[No, I do not know why they are making us look over this file again. Bleidecker is dead and Jones is long gone. These radio reports are clearly the result of sunstroke. Flying carpets?]
It sounds frustrated, and... German. Beyond that, Lilly's got nothing. Stupid Nazis. There's a lower voice murmuring something else she can't even pick out, let alone understand, and then the first voice replies.
[I agree. Put the files in the Jones box and we can be done, at least for the night.]
The light clicks off, and Lilly freezes, slipping back into the shadows and pressing herself into a doorway. The door opens, and two Nazi officers emerge.
Okay. If they turn left, I'm dead. er. Deader. If they go down the stairs, I'm okay. Lilly reminds herself that she's okay either way, really, thanks to the Dreaming. Her subconscious then decides that now would be the perfect time to remind her that vanishing to the Dreaming is always much more difficult under stress.
Godownthestairsgodownthestairsgodownthestairsgodownthestairs
Lilly can't kill people with her brain, but apparently she can encourage them to take the stairs. The officers walk off, still talking, and Lilly relaxes as she hears their boots descending the staircase.
God. Too close. She takes a deep breath, waits a moment longer, and then practically tiptoes to the room the officers vacated and slips inside. There's enough light coming in through the window that she doesn't risk flipping the switch for the bare bulb dangling from the ceiling. The room appears to have been converted into an office with file cabinets lining the walls and a long conference table and a few folding chairs as the only furniture. The table is strewn with papers, files, and a few boxes. She takes a cautious step closer, and...
There it is.
Lilly grins, her smile gleeful in the moonlight, and picks up the box. Everything's in it, along with a thick sheaf of papers she can't read but Indy might be interested in. Perfect. This was easy.
Before she can even kick herself for the thought, she hears the boots coming back up the stairs. Fuuuuuuuuck. Okay. Deep breaths. Lilly breathes in, exhales, focusing on the Dreaming- and not the steadily louder footsteps.
Thinking about the Dreaming... thinking about the Dreaming... thinking about the Dreaming... thinking about- ohshitthedoorisopening!
[What the hell!]
The two officers are staring at her, and as the first one's hand drops towards his gun, Lilly discovers that panic is actually extremely effective in aiding concentration. She fades out, clutching the box, a string of incomprehensible but probably obscene German words echoing in her ears as she returns to the Dreaming with her mission completed.
Lilly knows better than to change the past. Stealing from it, however? She's toally fine with that.