Going for walks down the beach wasn't exactly a productive way for Capa to spend his time, not when he still had so much work to complete before he could figure out the right calculation that would get him home, but every so often he couldn't help himself. With the warmth of the sun on his face, he had to give into it now and then, he had to enjoy what he'd been deprived of his whole life, if only to appreciate why he had to get back. If he didn't, this would never happen. No sun, no warmth, no life.
Smiling when he saw Alice, Capa lifted a hand to wave at her. He hadn't been on the island long, but he knew he appreciated Alice's somewhat abrupt nature. At times she reminded him of Mace, although he'd never admit to missing that bastard.
Sometimes, this island was really fucking cruel. Capa was another example. Alice liked the guy, but sometimes she had trouble remembering he wasn't Jim. Then there was the painful reminder of John, who'd saved his life doing a typically stupid John thing.
But she waved back anyway. This wasn't going to be the first painful reminder, or the last. She needed to deal with it.
She was heading in Capa's direction, and as much as she didn't want to talk to anybody - ever again - she forced herself to mutter a "Hello," when she was within earshot.
"Hi," Capa replied, coming to a slow stop as he neared Alice, his hands pushed into the pockets of his pants. Even since his discussion with Adrian about clothes, he couldn't find a good reason to wear anything other than the standard issue pants and t-shirts the box continued to dole out like he was some kind of prisoner. He didn't really mind.
"How are you?" he asked, knowing it was the polite thing to say.
Alice shrugged. "Okay," she lied. "You? Settling in okay?"
She'd wondered what had happened to him before he'd showed up, but hadn't gotten around to asking for details. If it was anything like the circumstances of her arrival, though, she knew he wouldn't want to give them. And she'd had other things to think about.
For a long time, simple stretches of beach had been among Sean's favourite haunts on the island. Wide open enough to be able to avoid people, enough simple distractions to keep him from getting caught up in his own thoughts, and quiet enough for him to hear all the little nuances of sound that have eluded him since he was stripped of his scream. Somewhere in the last few months, though, without his even noticing, that changed. Between Theresa and Meredith, sudden bright spots in a present that was so lousy for so long, he just hasn't felt the need to escape like he used to
( ... )
"Cassidy," Alice nodded. The greeting was probably a little inadequate - she liked Sean, got along well with him, and he didn't deserve a brush-off when he hadn't done anything. So she managed a smile, although to her it felt strained and unwelcome on her face. Still, she tried, and that was something.
"How goes it?" She tried for cheerful, too, but her heart just wasn't in it. She wasn't sure where the hell it was. She wished she'd left it behind in the desert a year ago. It would have saved her a lot of trouble.
She looks and sounds an awful lot like Sean feels a lot of days, which goes a long way towards why he makes a point not to comment on it. Instead he just shrugs easily, expression unchanging as he considers his answer. "Been better, been plenty worse," he says simply. "Yerself?"
"Been better," Alice said simply. She didn't want to go into it, but she was good at being vague, and she knew Sean wasn't the type to push. She hoped not, anyway. "Patrols going okay?"
Jesus, she was falling back on small talk. Talk about fucked up.
Some days she still wakes up and feels the need to run, to push herself, to sweat and know that, somehow, she's achieving something. She runs with her head down, her eye left in the drawer in the bedroom, so the lid is sunken in on itself a little. She's not self-concious about Babe seeing it anymore. She is self-concious about the realisation that she's not worried about him knowing anything about her anymore.
Strange days.
When she sees a familiar figure ahead of her on the sand she speeds up. She's got a bone to pick with Alice - other than ITF, she hasn't really seen her mate since John Sheppherd left. And the fact that John looked a lot like Brendan bloody Dean is not lost on her.
"Hey!" she calls, closing the distance between them. "Don't make me fucking catch you, Alice."
Alice wouldn't have stopped for anyone else, but it was Eden. She halted, feet sinking in the warm sand, and waited for her to draw up beside her before she spoke.
"Looks like you caught me anyway," she said. "What's up?"
She tried to muster some enthusiasm or at least a smile, and failed miserably. The twitch of her lips was definitely half-assed, but at least it was an attempt.
Again, anyone else, and she might not have bothered.
"My best friend seems to have up and bloody wandered off," says Eden, trying not to sound too out of breath. She doesn't run as much as she used to. "Don't know if you've seen her. Little bit taller than me. Blond. Great tits. Real pain in my bloody arse."
I miss you. She's not going to bloody say it, but it's there.
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Smiling when he saw Alice, Capa lifted a hand to wave at her. He hadn't been on the island long, but he knew he appreciated Alice's somewhat abrupt nature. At times she reminded him of Mace, although he'd never admit to missing that bastard.
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But she waved back anyway. This wasn't going to be the first painful reminder, or the last. She needed to deal with it.
She was heading in Capa's direction, and as much as she didn't want to talk to anybody - ever again - she forced herself to mutter a "Hello," when she was within earshot.
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"How are you?" he asked, knowing it was the polite thing to say.
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She'd wondered what had happened to him before he'd showed up, but hadn't gotten around to asking for details. If it was anything like the circumstances of her arrival, though, she knew he wouldn't want to give them. And she'd had other things to think about.
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"How goes it?" She tried for cheerful, too, but her heart just wasn't in it. She wasn't sure where the hell it was. She wished she'd left it behind in the desert a year ago. It would have saved her a lot of trouble.
C'est la vie, as the French said.
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Jesus, she was falling back on small talk. Talk about fucked up.
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Strange days.
When she sees a familiar figure ahead of her on the sand she speeds up. She's got a bone to pick with Alice - other than ITF, she hasn't really seen her mate since John Sheppherd left. And the fact that John looked a lot like Brendan bloody Dean is not lost on her.
"Hey!" she calls, closing the distance between them. "Don't make me fucking catch you, Alice."
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"Looks like you caught me anyway," she said. "What's up?"
She tried to muster some enthusiasm or at least a smile, and failed miserably. The twitch of her lips was definitely half-assed, but at least it was an attempt.
Again, anyone else, and she might not have bothered.
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I miss you.
She's not going to bloody say it, but it's there.
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If anyone could cheer her up with such a blatant lie as that, it was Eden. Alice found that the next smile was a little easier than the first one.
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