1stmacleod | What never will be

Current Mood: devastated
Current Location: Kairos house, Sanctuary

Entry tags:

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What never will be

Staying just off the Nexus makes it easier to visit, and Connor is tentatively getting familiar with the place. He's been told by a couple of people that he needs to get a PINpoint, and he's learned to reliably find the free bar. He's met a girl who wants to get some sword training from him, which is something to do, and he hasn't felt the buzz of another immortal since his first time here, and that was Ramirez.

He is almost, just barely, settling in.

Then he answers a casual question, and the woman who asked it starts to tell him about the other Connor MacLeod. The one who still has a good friend and true brother in Duncan. The one who still has Alex. And John. And Rachel. An ageless, immortal Rachel.

Connor staggers back to Kairos' house, with a box of chocolates he's supposed to give to his own Duncan along with the apology he's dreading to make. Over the past five years he's mostly pulled his mind back together. He no longer hallucinates, he has enough presence of mind to walk around in public without attracting stares. He remembers to shave at least every couple of days and shower whenever he gets a chance, and he can carry on normal conversations. He's walking a fragile edge, though.
Now his mind is swirling with the stories he's been told of a big happy family with another Connor MacLeod at the boisterous center of it all, somewhere out there not so far away. It's the most wonderful thing he could possibly dream of to know his family is happy and healthy somewhere, and the most agonizingly painful thing ever to know that it's not his family, and it never will be.
He comes into the house and pets the dogs, and puts the box of chocolates on the dresser in the guest room, and sits on the floor beside the bed with his head in his hands and shakes all over for the next few hours.

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"I didn't mean it like-! I meant before I came here..." He immediately looks apologetic and guilty, and hunches low over the table. Plus her comment about lending him her bed is giving him dirty thoughts.
"I'm sorry... you've been amazing, and I'm an awful person and I always say things wrong..." He does have a history of tactlessness, actually. Connor drains his glass.

"I know, I'm just saying that you have people that care. Whatever it's worth, it's out there." She reaches to pat his shoulder reassuringly. "You're not an awful person, stop that."

"I... didn't think I did. I haven't..." He smiles weakly at her. "I don't make friends much, and most of the ones I did have are gone, too. I'm not good with people."

She picks up the bottle of scotch and pours a good measure in both their glasses - her own doesn't need much filling, to be honest. "And now you've got some stubborn bossy air faerie telling you you've got friends you didn't even know you had. You might not make friends easily, but you're good with me." Now that she thinks about it, maybe she should introduce him to John. They could go drinking together! Or ... hm. She wonders if he'd karaoke.

"You're not bossy." He smiles weakly, watching his empty glass get refilled. "...Thanks. I'm glad you put up with me."
Connor wouldn't mind a drinking buddy, but he'd be painful at karaoke. He can carry a tune, but his voice is naturally raspy and quiet, and prone to cracking and breaking if he pushes it too high or loud. At nineteen, it was still settling into the deeper tones of adulthood, and never quite finished. Now it never will.

"Oh, you've just never seen me cranky before." She smiles at him, stretching a little with a small pleased little noise. "It's easy to 'put up with you'. It's not exactly a hardship to come home to dinner in the oven an a clean house. I'm still tempted to find you that skirt."

"You can't make me wear it." There's the flicker of a smile, and he takes a slow swallow of scotch. "I'm only doing all that because I owe you. Anyway, I'm used to having to cook and clean for myself, or..." Or for his kid, but he knows better than to follow that train of thought.

"Oh, I bet I could think of something to convince you." There's a slight shrug, and she takes another sip. "I appreciate it. It gets.. really lonely, comin' home to just Regina."

One eyebrow rises, because he's not sure what she's thinking of, there.
"Yeah... it's good to have someplace to... come home to..." Not that he thinks of this as home exactly, but it's more of a home base than he's had in a while, and he's grateful.

Kairos... really isn't sure herself. Seduction isn't her forte, and while she thinks he's attractive, and she likes him as a person, she's not brave enough to make the first move. "Nice to have someone you can vent to, if you need to. Or watch stupid movies. Do you watch stupid movies, Connor? Like Blades of Glory"

Connor thinks she's gorgeous, but he's still afraid of getting attached to anyone. Although it's undeniable he's growing fond of her as a friend, at the very least. He'd like to keep his distance from people, but the truth is he's not that good at it.
"You don't deserve being vented on. I don't... watch movies much, no. I haven't seen anything less than fifteen years old."

"Why?" she asks, drinking a little more. "I can take it. I'm not as fragile as you might think." She pauses, mouth pressed along the rim of her glass. "My inability to keep myself altogether if I don't work notwithstanding."

"It's not about whether you can take it, it's just you don't deserve having my problems dumped on you." He tries not to watch her, drinking. "...Did you mean why haven't I seen any movies lately...?"

She rolls her eyes. "You don't deserve your problems dumped on you. I figure being your friend, getting to know you includes those problems."

"Because a movie or TV show might help you get your mind off of things. Something normal, you know?" She gets up and runs over to her DVD case. "My best friend - Hyou, the one who got us the booze, not John this time around - likes silly comedies." She finds the Blades of Glory DVD, pulls it from it's spot on the case, and comes back and sits on the closest chair next to him. "I much prefer Elf, but it's really more of a Christmas movie." Pause. "And I figure I could always drag you kicking and screaming to a theater for something brand new."

"...Guess so..." Old as he is, Connor has limited experience with friendship, and he's used to being the older mentor figure other people turn to.

"I wouldn't kick or scream... but I think the last thing I saw in a theater was one of those ninja turtles movies..." He rubs the back of his neck, looking sheepish and wistful. It would be his son John who dragged him to that one.

"The one with Vanilla Ice. A new one came out a couple of years ago. We could go to one of those sickly sweet girl movies. I couldn't imagine you'd like the kind with big explosions," she teases, draining the last of her second glass of scotch.

Connor pales a little, at that. "...No. No, I don't like explosions..." He drains his glass in one very long swallow.

....And then it hits. "Oh, shit. I'm sorry, Connor. I just.."

"It's... It's okay." He smiles very weakly, and reaches to refill his own glass. "How could you have known?" He takes another gulp, right away, but that seems to steady him and he takes a slow breath, calming himself.

"Yeah. I'm good at a lot of things, but psychic ability is not one of them."

"It... was Rachel. I was just across the street..." He says quietly, tone flat. "They said the bomb was in the loft above the shop, probably rigged to the phone..."

Connor takes another gulp of scotch, another deep breath, and gestures at the DVD. "No explosions in that, right? I bet it's even funnier, drunk..." He sounds grimly determined.

((I haven't seen that movie in forever. But we can make pretend!))

"Not that I remember. Just men in tights skating together. Very manly movie, it is." Kairos will start on her third glass, feeling the need to get drunk now herself.

((Endgame, or Blades of Glory? Because I've never seen the second...))

"Yeah... okay. Heh. I've got nothing against men in tights." Because Connor has lived through some fashions that look pretty goofy to the modern eye. Getting drunk and watching a stupid movie will keep them both distracted, at least.

((My best friend at the time dragged me to it in the theater. I've seen...the first of Endgame, I think. Haven't seen the original yet! I need to move it up the queue! But BOG is stupid, but kind of endearing in a way. ))

"Good. To the couch, then?"

((Rachel getting blown up is right at the beginning. I think it's probably available in pieces on youtube...))

"Yeah..." He picks up the bottle, willing to just forget the dishes, for tonight. He's on his third glass and completely steady, but he can probably finish the bottle before the movie's over.

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