psy·chic

The smile Belle had adopted as soon as he got home melted into a worried frown, a crease appearing between her brows and her age, for once, showing in the faint lines on her face. It was a lot, she knew. She did know. A little foolishly she’d hoped that it wouldn’t matter, that things could just go back to normal.

What’s normal anyway?

She turned her hands to rest palms against his, looking down at them in contemplation that was, as it always had been, open to him. “I’m a god. Really, this time.” Saying it out loud was weird, felt clunky and awkward. Something she’d hid from for so long back to catch up to her. There was discomfort with it in her voice but moreso in her thoughts. “By all rights, a dead god. No one knows who I am, let alone worships me - not in any way that matters to anyone of great importance. I need you to know…”

She took a deep breath, let it out shakily, and found she couldn’t continue without her voice breaking. I’m still me.

“Whoa, hey.” He lifted her hands to his cheek. “Hey. It’s all good, Belle.” 

For certain measures of ‘good’. 

“If anyone should get the whole, ‘Oopsie doodles, I’m a different kind of being now,’ thing, it’s me. And I’m cool with it. Except that it seems to, erm, suck for you pretty badly.” Dantalion frowned. “Didn’t mean to downplay that aspect.”

It occurred to him that he didn’t remember the last time he’d spoken so many words to her aloud at once, but he wasn’t about to stop now; Belle was distressed, and he needed to put an end to that shit. Besides, it seemed a good time for blunt honesty, since it was already being offered in return.

“But of course you’re still you. You’re exactly the same person I was fawning over not five minutes ago, and exactly the same person I’ve been blow-flower giddy to see for a week now.

“And… you’re a god, I guess. I mean, I guess I already knew that. But… really, this time.” Now, he wasn’t sure whether he was reassuring Belle, or talking himself through things. Either purpose would do, because, for some reason, he found himself unable to stop talking. 

"I love you." That was a universal truth, right alongside her being a god. She loved him with her whole self and poured that into the three words with her voice and echoed the sentiment in her thoughts. Letting out a slow breath, she adjusted on his lap until she could comfortably lay her head on his shoulder.

She watched Tal’s face, tracing the lines of it while he thought….something. Belle could tell he was thinking, and only then because she was focused on him, but not what. In the back of her own mind was still the constant drone of deaths and births, all mixed together into a sort of white noise that broke through to her primary thoughts only occasionally.

She didn’t get breaks anymore, and that was the main difference. Always on the job, no matter what else she might want to do.

“Actually, no,” she laughed a little, sheepish. I’m not actually good at reading thoughts, mind you. It took Shadow what, a couple thousand years to learn to control her? And he had more motivation than she had. Not stupid, ever. This is new. She made the conscious effort to open herself up more, let him see what she was seeing in the back of her mind constantly and not just her immediate thoughts.

A young man being stabbed in his apartment

A new life born in a bath down the street

Someone on the other side of the world, bleeding out from a gunshot wound

The nursery unit at a hospital in Berlin, home to newborn triplets

Another in a different part, starving to death - its own sort of violence.

It’s more that I can control what you hear, she said, letting those thoughts fade back to the background again. Not that I want to, but it tends to be…noisy.

I get it, he thought at her, for all the good his action did. I’m being selfish. He gathered up her hands and pelted them in what was less a flurry of kisses, and more a brief hailstorm.

“I just want to be able to keep you. And do what you did for me: keep you from pointless worry.” Yes. That fit comfortably. “Just… you dropped a lot on me, just now. It’s… gonna take some time to adjust. Feel out the corners. You know–”

Learn what we look like, now.

Dantalion ran his thumbs over the backs of her hands in a self-soothing sort of pattern – Not quite close enough together, yet! – and laughed nervously. “I hope the, uh. thing works as well as they say it should. It really sounds busy in there!”

Tal would literally die if his mind sounded like that, and he was guiltily grateful that it wasn’t so.

What's normal anyway?

She turned her hands to rest palms against his, looking down at them in contemplation that was, as it always had been, open to him. "I'm a god. Really, this time." Saying it out loud was weird, felt clunky and awkward. Something she'd hid from for so long back to catch up to her. There was discomfort with it in her voice but moreso in her thoughts. "By all rights, a dead god. No one knows who I am, let alone worships me - not in any way that matters to anyone of great importance. I need you to know..."

Belle leaned back enough on his lap to leave room for the box, already grinning ear-to-ear about receiving a present, whatever it was going to be.

“Doesn’t have to be romantic to be a good Valentine’s- Oh!” She pulled the gadget out of the unwrapped box with a surprised, delighted gasp. “Oh, Tal, it’s perfect. You’re perfect. Thank you.” Setting it carefully back down again, she wrapped her arms around his neck instead and drew him into another smiling kiss.

I need it more than ever recently. Sincerely, thank you.

You’re the welcomest.

Dantalion set the box to one side and pulled her closer once more. It was wrong, unfair, really, how long they had been physically apart. It was a comfort to him to have Belle atop him as he finally set to riddle out these newest developments. The fact that he could no longer access her mind was beyond irritating, but that wasn’t the most pressing concern.

How well would their relationship hold up when she had access to his?

How far did her powers extend, even?

Was he even allowed to be around her, now? What good was a secret-keeper when their significant other could pluck out whatever they wanted to from their mind?

No, he would have to at least –

Ah. He stiffened. I imagine you heard all that.

She didn't get breaks anymore, and that was the main difference. Always on the job, no matter what else she might want to do.

"Actually, no," she laughed a little, sheepish. I'm not actually good at reading thoughts, mind you. It took Shadow what, a couple thousand years to learn to control her? And he had more motivation than she had. Not stupid, ever. This is new. She made the conscious effort to open herself up more, let him see what she was seeing in the back of her mind constantly and not just her immediate thoughts.

A young man being stabbed in his apartment

A new life born in a bath down the street

Someone on the other side of the world, bleeding out from a gunshot wound

The nursery unit at a hospital in Berlin, home to newborn triplets

Another in a different part, starving to death - its own sort of violence.

She had to concentrate on what he was sending her, compartmentalizing her own thoughts to better focus on his exploits while she laid her head on his shoulder and idly toyed with his hands in hers. When he was finished sharing her smile returned full force and she laid kisses along his jaw.

“Does this mean you get a vacation?” She teased, winking and doing half a wiggle on his lap. I missed you, so much. More than she thought she was still capable of missing someone, especially when the absence was temporary. Did you bring me a souvenir?

Tal laughed aloud. “Love, that was my vacation. But I’ll get to be around more, now, if that’s what you mean.” It grated that he had to assume that it was. Instead of dwelling, though, he reached into his bag.

“Not so much a souvenir as a late Valentine’s gift. Nothing to do with Washington, you see. Then again, you’ll have to decide if it’s romantic enough to count for Valentine’s, either.” He pulled out a metallic pink-wrapped package about the size of a shoe box, just large enough that it shouldn’t have been able to fit comfortably in the bag, and sat it on their shared lap space.

"Doesn't have to be romantic to be a good Valentine's- Oh!" She pulled the gadget out of the unwrapped box with a surprised, delighted gasp. "Oh, Tal, it's perfect. You're perfect. Thank you." Setting it carefully back down again, she wrapped her arms around his neck instead and drew him into another smiling kiss.

She melted. Tension that she didn’t know she was carrying eased immediately, her world clicked back into place. Here was her home, kissing her. One benefit of their method of communicating was that she could multitask, kissing back and answering at the same time.

You’re here now. You’re here! Finally. She smiled into the kiss, her hands seeking his to hold them. I love you. Tell me about you.

Dantalion lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist for stability. Let’s have a seat. He wombled over to the living room and plopped onto the sofa, with Belle kept snugly on his lap with her hands in his again. I’m so glad to be home!

He sent (or, he grudgingly supposed, simply thought about) a condensed version of his various exploits: a few dozen deals, several intertwined projects, trips with Saoirse to the dog park, and the delightful culinary offerings of Washington, DC.

She felt the hug go stiff and there was a sadness that colored everything as suddenly as the joy had. Things for a split second had been as they were, and now they weren’t. But she’d opened herself up to hearing him and being heard again so at least there was still that.

Nodding, she let go and set herself back down on her feet, looking up at him with a small nervous smile and a nod.

I can hear you. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to dump everything on you right away but… A half shrug, defeated. I figured it would explain everything at the get.

I’m sorry I’m not human anymore. It ran under everything else, but she didn’t say it. Thought it loudly enough perhaps.

 He hated it.

Not her, of course, or even necessarily what she had become, but purely and simply the fact that control had been ripped from him.

But hatred wouldn’t change anything, and he hoped her hearing wasn’t as complete as his own had been. Instead, he took charge of the little he could, tilting her head up for a kiss.

Her home had alarms of all sorts, magical and non-magical alike, and her paranoia dictated that they cover everything from burglary to elder gods. Just in case. Still, there were a few notable exceptions, and especially a Tal-shaped hole in her home security system that allowed for him to come home. Whenever that would be.

She looked up from her desk as the door monitor beeped, corners of her mouth turning down automatically. Then her name, shouted through the house, made her nearly jump out of her skin.

Oh, right. She had to open that security system too.

Tal

It took her no time to run down the stairs from her office, launching off the last few steps into a hug with her arms tight around his neck and smile pressed to his cheek. To save time, and explanation, she opened the floodgates and thought deliberately about everything that had happened since he’d left. Being stalked, dying, coming back, nearly dying again, killing Shadow, gaining his dominion and her own back, choosing to stay. More recently, becoming a midwife, losing her memories. Too many of them, although, she hoped, nothing of theirs. There was an ‘I’m so sorry’ underwriting everything, that she hadn’t told him as it was happening, that she’d let it all happen at all.

“Hi,” she breathed out after a moment, apologetic. “Welcome back.”

His return hug started out warm and strong. Belle! Dantalion took a deep huff off the hank of red hair in his face. 

But things still weren’t right. Memories flew at him a mile a minute, but he had no control over them, no authority over their subject or pacing. As he followed along, he quickly discerned why, and the hug became much, much stiffer.

Can you hear me, love?

A fine how do you do it would be, indeed, if their roles were now reversed. The very idea made his skin crawl, setting aside all that about him missing what had apparently been a proper life-and-death engagement. It bore investigating.

Nodding, she let go and set herself back down on her feet, looking up at him with a small nervous smile and a nod.

I can hear you. I'm sorry, I didnt want to dump everything on you right away but... A half shrug, defeated. I figured it would explain everything at the get.

Bag slung over one shoulder, Dantalion opened the door slowly, and Saoirse loped in around him. He was only passingly familiar with this new place; there had only been time for a handful of visits since her move. It wasn’t home.

And yet it was. The scent was all Belle, the space clearly decorated in just her style (with a few objects here or there he knew had been brought out for his sake), and the precious knowledge that she was waiting just a few rooms away. That, more than anything, spoke of home. 

Yet when he reached out to hear her, there was only dead air. 

She looked up from her desk as the door monitor beeped, corners of her mouth turning down automatically. Then her name, shouted through the house, made her nearly jump out of her skin.

Oh, right. She had to open that security system too.

Tal

It took her no time to run down the stairs from her office, launching off the last few steps into a hug with her arms tight around his neck and smile pressed to his cheek. To save time, and explanation, she opened the floodgates and thought deliberately about everything that had happened since he'd left. Being stalked, dying, coming back, nearly dying again, killing Shadow, gaining his dominion and her own back, choosing to stay. More recently, becoming a midwife, losing her memories. Too many of them, although, she hoped, nothing of theirs. There was an 'I'm so sorry' underwriting everything, that she hadn't told him as it was happening, that she'd let it all happen at all.

“Perhaps It’s Best Not To Focus On What Others Expect, And Find What’s Best For You”

Andrew O'Boy Carlström + Ammy Dawne Archer