milliways_bar: "Home" Again
He'd moved out of the loft.
It hadn't taken long. He'd spent perhaps fifteen minutes there and decided that it was fifteen minutes too long before calling up his banker. They'd have to wait till morning to get him a new apartment of the size he required and the movers wouldn't come till then either, but there are always hotels and he'd stayed in one for the night instead of sleeping in that bed. He hadn't slept there either, to be honest, but it was better than it could have been; even these frail mortal senses could still sense some things and his other senses...
He'd shut them off, simply to keep from going mad.
The next morning, as his most important possessions were brought to his new apartment and his furniture was, by and large, donated to various charities, he went to the police station to argue for his job back. The fact that he'd apparently found a 'cure' in his long hiatus gained him sympathy and his record did the rest; he hadn't needed hypnosis, honestly. Thus he was back, with his partner once again, and the two of them had actually taken the day shift.
He had thought about taking the night shift again, if only to leave his days free that he might explore the world in light, see what he had missed, but his condition brought him little joy now. He founds himself wondering what had compelled him to be mortal for all those years, found himself listing his limitations and the greatest of them loomed over him dreadfully.
He could die.
He could die and...who could tell if he'd managed to make up for his many and varied sins?
He was young still, but the idea that his death might come in a short thirty, fourty, fifties years or so terrified him now. It was one thing to share those years with someone, quite another to drag himself through them alone. But, he supposed, perhaps that was a part of his penance.
Tracy was, frankly, confused at him for most of the first few shifts. There was, of course, no way to explain to her that his mortality had been returned to him by a tiny Norse god at the end of the Universe, and the two of them rarely spoke of Nick or his concerns anyway, but eventually it came out that no, he hadn't discovered any 'miracle SPF 100000' (though his bottle was still in the room at Milliways, his Christmas gift from Snow White) but that he had regained his mortality.
Any questions to why or how were immediately silenced with a glare.
It hadn't taken long. He'd spent perhaps fifteen minutes there and decided that it was fifteen minutes too long before calling up his banker. They'd have to wait till morning to get him a new apartment of the size he required and the movers wouldn't come till then either, but there are always hotels and he'd stayed in one for the night instead of sleeping in that bed. He hadn't slept there either, to be honest, but it was better than it could have been; even these frail mortal senses could still sense some things and his other senses...
He'd shut them off, simply to keep from going mad.
The next morning, as his most important possessions were brought to his new apartment and his furniture was, by and large, donated to various charities, he went to the police station to argue for his job back. The fact that he'd apparently found a 'cure' in his long hiatus gained him sympathy and his record did the rest; he hadn't needed hypnosis, honestly. Thus he was back, with his partner once again, and the two of them had actually taken the day shift.
He had thought about taking the night shift again, if only to leave his days free that he might explore the world in light, see what he had missed, but his condition brought him little joy now. He founds himself wondering what had compelled him to be mortal for all those years, found himself listing his limitations and the greatest of them loomed over him dreadfully.
He could die.
He could die and...who could tell if he'd managed to make up for his many and varied sins?
He was young still, but the idea that his death might come in a short thirty, fourty, fifties years or so terrified him now. It was one thing to share those years with someone, quite another to drag himself through them alone. But, he supposed, perhaps that was a part of his penance.
Tracy was, frankly, confused at him for most of the first few shifts. There was, of course, no way to explain to her that his mortality had been returned to him by a tiny Norse god at the end of the Universe, and the two of them rarely spoke of Nick or his concerns anyway, but eventually it came out that no, he hadn't discovered any 'miracle SPF 100000' (though his bottle was still in the room at Milliways, his Christmas gift from Snow White) but that he had regained his mortality.
Any questions to why or how were immediately silenced with a glare.