Log:Then The Morning Comes

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Then The Morning Comes
Characters  •   The Pedagogue  •  The Rogue  •
Location  •  Pedagogue's Room
Date  •  2019-03-04
Summary  •  Rogue wakes up somewhere he did not fall asleep, and has a bit of a crisis, but all ends well.

Calling something 'morning' is moot. There's no windows, no time, no clocks and even the Swatch is really just there to be decorative. There is no passing of time, there is only Reset.

And reset makes many people very... very cranky.

It's one of these that wakes the Rogue up, back in the very cozy, very flush bunker that is his habitat that has been designed with his amenities in mind. All but one. He sits up abruptly knowing this is not at all where he last left himself. This is not what he was wearing, and his hands clench fists around the covers too familiar that shouldn't be there because he shouldn't be there. Bare feet slap against the polished concrete floor as the covers flip. He's still wearing effectively his BDUs like he lived in on the Hephaestus worn and second nature to him as the T-shirt stretched across him. The redundant normalcy bringing a sting to his eyes that gets brushed away.

Determination carries him down the short hall to the main hall of rooms. His head pokes out like a ferret to check what is happening there and in the undisturbed quiet just crosses the hall at short diagonal and just lets himself into the Pedagogue's room. He doesn't ask. Really wouldn't live up to the expectation of him if he did. Stepping in his eyes take in the... office?

It's more like a library, high ceilinged with one wall entirely shelves of books, with even one of those rolling ladders to reach the higher ones. Another wall has a large chalkboard covered in notes and formulas, very a beautiful mind. The other wall has the bed, a large fancy desk, leather arm chairs, and lighted frames in which the mementos of the Pedagogue from different lives lived. A rubbing taken by Ethan from the wall of the temple on Grey Island, a schematic rendering of Tenochitlan Station that once hung behind Riordan's desk, a page from Nolan's copy of the Key of Solomon, and the letter Lyle wrote to Ethan before having his eye removed.

The bed itself is a burnished dark wood four poster with deep maroon and cream bedding. Everything is dark wood and that same maroon and cream, resembling someplace perhaps Sherlock Holmes would have lived. In said bed is the still snoozing Pedagogue, sprawled out languidly in his sleep, wearing pajama pants and the swatch watch.

The Rogue does a quick sweep of the room as is habit, though slower. The parts of his mind warring wondering what Ethan's been up to all this time and then reminding himself that he's lived life entirely out of order. Fingers lift to the edge of the frame that has that seal of Solomon. He remembers when they came to him to say hey can we shave off a part of your brother for the salt ring. Yeah. There was a scrap over that one. Seeing his letter framed in his terrible handwriting? A faint smile stills his nerve-wracked expression. His fingers leave a bit of a print on the glass. It'll be gone tomorrow.

The Rogue says nothing but wades over while the room is quiet and just crawls back in bed pulling the blanket with him. You'd think they were younger and still holed up in 114, but this is some other time, some other place and the stillness is its own strangeness with all too familiar routine. Well familiar for the Rogue, and a year too long for the other who had a hell of an adventure to cope and contend with.

The Pedagogue seems to sense the change in the weight of the mattress and he instinctively moves to curl up with the Rogue, a tangle of limbs very reminiscent of the two youths back at the Lodge. There is a groggy sound as he begins to wake, and his eyes slit open, that bright blue the same in a face aged by 15 years. He blinks a few times. "You woke up here?" he asks, in confusion, as the reset must have happened.

The Rogue buries his face against neck and shoulder murmuring only half-awake, and half-angry with a sigh, "No...and they keep moving my things." There might be something about just dying that's not sat well, or a number of things that have happened he either has or hasn't addressed but it all comes together in a quit gesture of holding onto the body tangled with his in a simple message to the universe: Mine. Fuck off.

You know, in that eloquent way Rogue always is. "I think reset just happened. I was awake, then... there. So I came..." He yawns, "to find you. Make sure you were still here." Because there's a fear that's not going to abate this century. "Was just stuck up thinking of... bullshit I guess. Didn't mean t' wake you."

The Pedagogue makes a soft sound of understanding and his fingers move into the Rogue's hair, stroking through it gently, soothingly. He kisses the top of Lyle's head. "I'm not going anywhere. Not if I can help it, love." He relishes the warmth and togetherness as he murmurs quietly, "Talk to me, tell me what's eating at you."

The Rogue mellows out like he always has. When he was 20, when his family was being stupid, when he lost a damn eye, when they have been under siege... when they were reset at Reset. All of life's little travesties. It's a small gesture that goes far.

The assurance gets a smooch to his shoulder as the Rogue tries to figure out how to answer that question. "If I told you stupid shit, would you believe me?" That soft accent holding some amusement knowing that answer is a flat yes. ""Just... this whole time I've defied everything as not real. I've fought against it...rejected it said they're trying to give us what we want as a way to keep us locked in a damn cage and I've been trying to break out this whole time and now? Now I found something I want to stay for, and you, and... they just took Addie. And I don't... want them to take you. I can't do that twice." Fingers tighten, but the rest of him is too tired to get worked up. "I had...to do that once I can't do that again."

"They aren't taking me away. I will fight them to my last breathe to stay with you, to go with you, wherever this leads," Pedagogue says quietly. "If I vanish, I want you to know that I am out there, somewhere, trying to find you, rescue you, get back to us. It's more than Oregon. It's here as well." He taps his chest over his heart.

The Rogue brings a hand to the side of Drake's face, shaven, cleaned up, and wholly different than he knew him, but everything also that marks those differences of how he's just triumphed as a person. "Eish, I believe you. This just changes... everything. Everything about this... endless thing I was fighting with no face." Eyes open again to look at Ethan and the promise made. Hand reaches for the one tapped on his chest to close on it. "What's funny is you tell me all these things that happened because... me; because us. And I see you now, like this and back on those things I know you accomplished and I'm so damn proud of you." He squints but the smile dimpled up tiredly on his face at the ridiculous truth, "And I am. Because Fuck those guys, ja? That's what we promise done another. But the things you've done were before me, or maybe am I here now because you remembered? That I don't... know. I don't know how someone can live their life out of order unless maybe Lulu's right. This is an afterlife. Maybe that's why there's no where to go to but..." His brow furrowed looking around, his head picks up from off the pillow confused, "I thought it'd be bigger... and have a skate park." Yup. Priorities man. Lyle's only changed so much.

"I am wondering if maybe we're hopping in and out of the bodies of our ancestors. Maybe we are far far in the future, and somehow all our lives have been linked and re-linked across time. Kind of crazy to think of but, well, we had dinner last night as 20 somethings in Oregon, so..." The Pedagogue sighs softly. "If I vanish though, promise me you'll keep trying to escape this prison. Promise me you'll keep living, and being the amazing person I know you are."

The Rogue tiredly grins, "Fuuuuuck that. I'll keep working at finding you." SO damn tired, but it's not a terrible thought. "Just don't vanish, baby. That's the solution, ja? We fought 35 years for this. Maybe we just get to enjoy this." The smile tiredly sits there with some thought in that pulling Ethan over and letting lethargy take them. "But sure, I'll promise you whatever you want. Just don't disappear. We earned this." The blanket is pulled back up and the decision for now is that coffee and waking up can wait.