dear_mun | momchester finally made a bb account

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momchester finally made a bb account

You know they're just icons, right? [Mary brushes her hair out of her eyes and stares unimpressed into the... wherever it is she's looking.] There's really no need to obsess.

[She rolls her eyes and scoffs in an... incredibly teenage way.]

I don't even know why you made this account. It's not like there's a point. [squaring her shoulders determinedly, self-consciously aware that she looks a little silly.] My life will be way too boring for you to write anything about and that's just fine with me. Got it?

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Oh Mary. I know that. You needn't try to convince me.

[His hand is just that much more there against her cheek, increasing contact to match her, his thumb ghosting over her lashes, wiping away a tear that hasn't yet fallen. Steady and sure as the Earth beneath her feet, solid and real in a way she will never be able to feel - he knows what it is to be lost to a grief too big to wrap your brain around, and have to, some how, find a way to keep moving, regardless - so he's being a rock now, something strong enough to take the fall of her grief.]

[She sucks in a breath lightly, another shiver down her spine. The tears are falling, try as she might to hold them back, and nevertheless the contact is strange somehow. Rock-solid and so familiar... but no, nothing she recognizes, it's that he's acting familiar, and it strikes her as strange.

Strange, that someone should be so steadfastly understanding. Mary opens her eyes again, lashes brushing against his thumb, cheek warm under his hand.]

I don't even know your name. [She wants to know him. Know more about this person before she can justify opening up any more than she already has.] Or how you know me.

Michael. You can call me Michael.

[Yes, he's sticking with that. He gently wipes the tears away, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, carefully dabbing at her face.]

We met after you had a particularly rough night, chatted a while until you had calmed down and your family arrived.

[Sam, but she didn't need to know that.]

And have met for coffee a few times since, to talk. I've had young children myself, sometimes it's easier to lean on someone who has walked a certain path before.

Children?

[Softly. If she's had children, then that must mean she gets out. She gets out and stays out. Mary stays still, content to let him fuss over her, because it's kind of nice. He's a father, too. They're friends in whatever future he comes from.]

Well... thank you. I guess you're still helping me, aren't you?

Mhm. Two little boys in your case.

[He finishes, but hands the handkerchief over to her.]

I do when I can, yes.

[She sniffs and takes the handkerchief with a teary half-smile.]

Thanks. Do you have a last name, Michael?

[Gently, more a pat than anything else, squeezes her cheek. Good girl.]

Not really. Xavier is the last name of the family which adopted me, however.

[An innocent smile.] Well it's nice to meet you, Mr. Xavier.

Michael's fine.

[Michael he's gotten used to. Xavier he hasn't. And it's not really his name, regardless.]

Okay.

[She smiles sunnily, pretty despite the tears shining on her cheeks.]

That must have been some good coffee we got, if you know this much about me in the future.

[He smiles warmly, invitingly, and goes back to stroking her cheek.]

It was more than one cup of coffee but yes.

[His smile makes her relax a little, but then he's touching her again, that hand stroking her cheek, and she doesn't know what to think. It's a little odd, yeah, but she figures they must be really good friends or he's just like that, and in the future she wouldn't object to this. So she smiles back at him and doesn't move away.]

I can't remember the last time I could be this honest with anyone.

[Her little, fleeting wall of happiness cracks. She has to hitch her smile up again, only partly convincingly.]

I can imagine. I didn't grow up a Hunter, it's not a world I know much about. But I was a smuggler. And I made a career hunting criminals who fled justice and returning them for trial. I went decades with not being able to go three sentences without having to lie or redirect the conversation. I understand how difficult it is.

[Voice a low mummer, like a low, far off rumble of thunder promising a break in horrid summer weather.]

[And she's back to staring up at him raptly, wide eyes fixed on his impossibly blue ones as his words wrap velvet-soft fingers around her mind.]

How did you do it>

[It's so needy and plaintive that she'd be shocked if she could see herself, but she has to know, she needs it like air or she might drown. She has to know how he could suffocate for so many years, because if he tells her, maybe she can survive, too.]

With care. People who knew me, if they had known the truth, they were put at risk. Which I couldn't allow. It was lonely at times, which I accepted. It was safer for everyone if they didn't know. There is a surprising amount of comfort in that.

[His tone doesn't change. Survival is strength, but it has to be nurtured.]

But...

[But she doesn't want that life for herself. Mary swallows that down.]

...I. I need to know something.

You said you know me.. in ten years.

[That, more than losing her parents, is the price. That is what she has to accept - if she is going to break away, it means lying, to everyone, all the time. It isn't what he thinks is actually best, but it's a point he needs to drive home.]

I do, yes.

So... I made it? [She shifts her weight, moving against his palm, the subtle slide of skin on skin only distracting a little.] Ten years, that's the deal. Do you know me after that thing comes back for me?

Yes. We met in the early morning hours after. He kept his word.

[It's even, sure, calm, even reassuring. The same tone he'd used to guide people to the gas chambers. There was no reason not to believe him, none at all.]

[Mary lets out a breath she hadn't realize she was holding and relaxes visibly, leaning into his hand.]

Thank God. Do you know what he wanted?

No, I don't, I'm sorry.

[He could guess - leaning over one of the boys, Sam and Dean, Vessels, so on. And Chuck had told him some, about Sam, about demon blood. He could hazard a really good guess. But it was only a guess. No reason to voice it.]

But keep the terms of the Deal, and everything will be all right.

[He returned the lean with a bit more pressure of his hand, warmth like sunshine. Everything will be ok, in the end.]

Everything will be all right.

[It's half a question as she leans into his hand unconsciously, drawing comfort from something so simple. She wants to believe it. It would be so nice to believe that she can just click her heels and believe and everything will turn out peachy.

But hunters' stories don't have happy endings.]

Yes.

[He moves just a fraction closer. Stick to the Deal, Mary, and everything will be all right.]

[She doesn't think anything of it.]

How can you know that?

[A tiny motion. Come closer.]

You have to have faith, in yourself, if nothing else.

momchester finally made a bb account

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extra creep icon.