peaches and apples

[brainpanned]

who: river & andy
what: meeting the minds
when: 02-02-10, eight-ish
where: salon d'opera, theater four
rating/status: closed, middleish rating?

Comments

[psychic_stoner]

Hands of blue? he thought, eyebrows raising slightly again with confusion. His eyes widened slightly when she tapped at the side of her head. "Pieces of your brain?!" he asked incredulously. That was...man, that was just all kindsa fucked up, Andy thought. What kind of person would do that to another person? Or, well, she'd said hands of blue and humans didn't have blue hands. "Uh, hands of blue? Like...aliens did it?" he ventured stupidly.

He was a little surprised by - although not at all uncomfortable with - River having leaned to rest her head against his shoulder. She might be a little...eccentric, he supposed, but she was cute and Andy was not the type to push away a pretty girl if she wanted to be touching him of her own free will. That was for damn sure. But what she said caught him off guard. "Sam Winchester?" he asked, blinking. "Yeah, he's one of Us. Did you know him? Is he here?" he asked. "Someone said he'd been here, but...I really need to see him so...if he's around, that'd be kind of awesome," he

[brainpanned]

"Aliens?" River looked up at him and laughed, a pleasant, open sound. "No. No aliens." Not that aliens didn't exist, because even River had to acknowledge that the probability of humanity being the only conscious life to exist in the universe had to be low -- but the people who'd done this to her were far too human.

"But there was a Sam. Left a Sam-shaped gap." River blushed a little. They'd -- they'd been so close to something...an "almost" that had never been fulfilled. River touched a thumb to her bottom lip. "I knew about him, when he came. Felt him." She paused, a thoughtful moment on her tongue as she watched the stage and the actors without really registering their presence. Then, tipping her head curiously upward, she eyed Andy. "Like I knew you. There's something that resonates...unlike the norm. I can't -- I don't know how to say."

[psychic_stoner]

Knitting his brow and shaking his head to let River know he still didn't quite understand, Andy draped his arm over the back of her chair. He purposefully did not touch her because one thing Andy was not was a skeeze, but it was almost a reflexive offering of comfort should she decide she actually wanted it. Hey, it'd worked on Tracy a couple of years ago, in any case.

But then when the blush registered on her cheeks as she spoke of a Sam-shaped gap, Andy let his arm fall back behind the chair. Where there was a guy that looked like a Winchester, there was an automatic cock block. Trying to make anything of anything with this girl would be a waste of time. "So he really is gone?" he asked, frowning. The thing about Sam was that he knew things that Andy didn't understand and yet they were still apparently part of the same thing, whatever that thing was. Sam was big and probably strong; he knew his shit. Sam made Andy feel safe in a way he'd never, ever admit to anyone, if only because he wasn't a fag and he didn't want anyone

[brainpanned]

"Wasn't here long. Gone for good, too." River pulled her knees in again and nestled more comfortably against Andy's side, like adjusting herself into an usually lumpy couch. It didn't bother her, apparently, if he was close or not. Personal space didn't really register -- River liked contact because it grounded her. Like touching people and registering their proximal warmth reminded her she was a part of the rest of the universe.

She licked her lips, thinking. Well, it was more than just gut instinct. The instinct was never wrong. But Andy had a point -- where did they go from here? What could they do with this new camaraderie? Nestling her head into the crook of his shoulder, River sighed.

"Learn? There's more to you than just you." She swallowed and examined her hands, rubbing her knuckles with the soft pad of her thumb. "And I miss the presence. We -- the special we -- have a presence...here." River tapped at her temple. "I miss it."

[psychic_stoner]

Gone for good, she said, and Andy's blood ran cold. He swallowed thickly, knitting his brow and narrowing his eyes slightly. "Why for good...?" he asked in a low voice. If Sam fucking Winchester was dead, Andy Gallagher didn't stand a motherfucking chance in hell. He only half-noticed the way River was nestling up against him, he was so distracted with the thought of Sam not making it out of whatever this thing they were a part of alive. Thus, he didn't react either favorably or unfavorably. It just was what it was. Andy was sitting there and River was leaning against him. He didn't even really register it, never mind think on it at all

[brainpanned]

River laughed a little, her mouth twisting up at the irony. "Not dead, silly. Gone." And just as soon as the smile appeared, it vanished, slipping back into a pressed line. "People who leave don't like to come back. And if they do they don't remember they were here before." She had that feeling about the Doctor...about a lot of her friends who'd faded out of this place. But River was a transitory state, and thoughts she didn't like, she pushed away. Simply forgot.

"You are you..." She paused. "But there's more. More than just..." She lowered her voice, "Control. Maybe I could show you how I see. The feeling, it's -- it's more than just."

River frowned again, tried again. "I have moments, I -- I get confused. It's hard to focus when I feel too much. I think...you could help."

[psychic_stoner]

What River said about people not wanting to come back was curious enough to Andy. He sort of liked it here. There wasn't anything terribly special about this place; it had that small town feel like Guthrie had, but no one knew his history. Nobody knew - well, with the exception, it seemed, of River - that he was a freak. They didn't judge because Andy was very good at pretending he was normal. The second bit, though, was curiouser still. "They don't remember? That's...yeah that's definitely weird," he replied, knitting his brow slightly. At least Sam wasn't dead, though.

Andy stiffened at River's suggestion that there was more than the control. His jaw set at her offer to show him how she saw. You be good Andy, Dean had said and every goddamn time he used his mind things - either of them - he heard Dean's voice in his head reminding him. There was Andy...and there was Webber. He did not want to be the latter and Andy was afraid - terrified - that if he tried to do anything else with his ability, he'd end up corrupted and

[brainpanned]

River closed her eyes, and let the image linger. Such a sad face on such a pretty girl. He'd never lied to her, and that was admirable. River brought her hand to her mouth, biting her thumb. "I see..." But looking at Andy, he already had control of his powers, somewhat. He knew how they worked. River was still lost inside her own head, the neural pathways an mystery.

"But you can pretend you're normal...forget you have it." She sucked in her bottom lip. "I just forget. It's hard for people to understand why." She'd hoped maybe Andy would, but he was having more trouble wrapping his mind around the way she arranged her words than anything else.

"You can push images. Can you pull images out? Read them?"

[psychic_stoner]

Looking down, Andy nodded just once to himself. "Yeah," was all he could come up with. The thing about sending out images was that he had to imagine them first. Not that he'd ever admit that, because then it meant admitting he'd had to imagine gay porn just to send it to that asshole back in Guthrie. Though, the thirty seconds of unpleasant viewing in his own mind was totally worth knowing that the other guy would have it looping twenty four hours a day. Andy had only given the dude what was coming to him. But having sent the picture of Tracy to River only made him remember the way he'd caught her eye only to have her turning her head to look anywhere but back at him. It hurt all over again.

The sound of River's voice brought him back to the present and he looked up at her. "Well...I don't ever forget I have it, peaches," he corrected her. "I just pretend it isn't there. I just let it sit dormant. I always know it's there, I just don't always use it," he added. Though, he listened to her response and thought that would be

[brainpanned]

She finally pulled away from him, watching Andy with a strange, guarded, sort-of-sad expression. "I forget things," she admitted. "All the time. And I never forget I'm broken." Her head listed sideways. "You understand?"

River wished she could find a match in him -- someone to share troubles with -- someone who could understand her inability to understand, but that seemed too complex. Or too worrying for Andy, who was too against exploring his powers. And it was too hard for him to understand her, at least not while River was in a quasi-lucid state. She drew her hand back through her hair and looked at the stage, where the actors were finally wrapping up rehearsal.

"I should -- I think I should go." River carefully got to her feet, loosely hugging herself.