#squire's stuff

Jayce and the crystal that he would carry with him and pick back up in pursuit of his dream of bringing magic to people - the crystal that secured his fate as the one who could bring an end to it

Mel and the necklace that she carried with her by painting the memory, that represented the difference between her and Ambessa that would lead to their final confrontation

Jayce and Mel, taking hold of a symbolic version of that object at a crucial moment to bring the conflict to an end

And - that they didn't leave the others tied in their fates to face them alone

That Mel uses her power to take Ambessa and give her mercy, that she held her mother as she was dying

“Yeah,” Booker continues, moving on quickly. “I’ve got a theory that the dreams - they give us each different bits, more or less. The more of us sharing them, the more overlap, but -” he shakes his head. “I didn’t really have much to go on, myself, until now. Quynh and Andy dreamed of each other, but it was just the two of them. Joe and Nicky met each other soon after they died the first time, but it took years for Andy and Quynh to find them. But when they talk about their dreams about Andy, it sounds like they’re broken up. And from what they’ve said about me -” he gives a chagrined smile, “- and they had more than a few years, it sounded like that was all broken up. But now,” he adds, “with you, I think we all got bits - more overlap, but. Joe and I got some of the same details. Andy picked up the most, she’s learned to pick out what’s important. I think Nicky got you choking on your own blood, though he’s too nice to say so.”

Nile considers. “So no gazpacho for a bit.” She says, and Booker snorts with laughter. 

“So who felt me die?” She asks eventually.

“I did.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m used to it.” It’s a relief to tell the truth. “Appreciated the novelty of a new mode of nightmare death, actually,” he lies.

She laughs like she doesn’t believe him, which is fair.

“So they - they really don’t stop.”

“Yeah.” Booker says. “Never had someone share them before, but - yeah. They don’t. Haven’t in over two hundred years, don’t really expect them to.”

Nile stares into the fire.

“I know it’s a lot, kid,” he says. “But you need to know what you’re really in for.”

He’s not telling her what she’s really in for. Not telling her he knows where Copley is, where Joe and Nicky are. Doesn’t tell her she’s going to be facing a hard few days alone if everything goes as planned. 

But she won’t be with them, not if he can figure out a way out of it. A few days as guinea pigs as Merrick Inc collected the uncontaminated samples Copley said they needed - that wouldn’t even register on the ‘shitty week’ scale for any of the four of them; not so much for a twenty-six year old who just died for the first time. That didn’t need to be part of her first week of immortality. 

Of course, that means he needs to figure out a convincing reason to leave the kid on her own. He had a bad feeling she wasn’t the kind of person who would listen to ‘if we don’t come out in ten minutes, run’, but he wasn’t coming up with anything better.

‘The brains of this outfit’ indeed.

“You think - something like that. A box in the ocean. You think that could happen to -” she leaves the end of her question unspoken.

“I think it could happen to any of us. Probably not as a consequence of an English witch trial these days, but -” he says, “bad luck still happens.”

“Yeah.” She says, rubbing her throat. “But nothing lives forever, right? So she’ll -”

“Supposedly,” Booker shrugs. “Nicky’d say she’ll go when her time comes.”

“And you?”

“Well, if her time hasn’t come in 500 years of constant drowning, I don’t much count on it,” he says. “If destiny meant us to find each other, it’d have done a better job of picking a submarine captain than a forger-turned-conscript.”

“You were a conscript?”

“Yup,” Booker says. “Fought with Napoleon so much his men hanged me for desertion.”

It’s the joke that always makes Joe laugh, and sure enough it gets a smile from Nile.

“Yeah, well, the history books don’t paint too flattering of a picture.” 

“Never met the man,” Booker says, “can recommend against invading Russia in winter though.”

Nile smiles. “Glad they got that one right.”    

Booker laughs. 

“So,” Nile says after a long pause, “I suppose you don’t believe in God either. You and Andy.”

“No,” Booker says. “Trust me, it’s better to assume all of this is random than try and believe something’s directing this shitshow.”

“If you think it’s random, why wonder ‘why you’?” she says, with a tilt of her head to indicate herself.

He tilts his head; fair point. “Nicky rubs off on us all at some point.”

He can’t deny there’s a bit of a superstitious feeling to Nile’s arrival. Two sides to the same coin:

He has the right timing to help one of them get free before immortality has to cost them anything; Nile can go back to her first family with what Booker could never give his. 

Nile doesn’t have to live this life, their life. She can go home to her first family, he thinks, a tug of regret on his heart at the thought of no longer having her face at the dinner table, not having her as family. 

Good omen, bad omen. Simplest explanation is that it’s random.

But he’s not so selfish as that. He’d already drown a thousand times to save her from the nightmares, from any pain, so much so that he almost understands Nicky’s talk of destiny. And there’s the other side of the coin:

He’s putting her at risk if he can’t find her a way out. 

“Well I believe in God.” Nile says.

Booker takes a drink from his flask. “Let me know how you feel about him after a hundred years of nightmares of Quynh drowning.”

Nile frowns at him.

“Hey, I said Nicky was the nice one.” A wild oversimplification, but. Nile should never have any reason to learn why Nicky is their sniper.

“This really is a band.” Nile says. “So what? Joe’s the funny one, you’re the smart one.”

Booker laughs. “Yes to the first one, second one’s -” he pulls a face and chuckles, Nile laughs. “Anyway,” he adds, “Joe’s pretty multitalented. You haven’t seen his art yet.”

Nile stares at him, then shakes her head slowly. “You know,” she starts. “I was supposed to be going to school for art. Military was supposed to pay for my Art History degree.” 

“Yeah?” he says, “You recognized a Rodin on sight, in a pretty unlikely place at that. I think you’re already qualified.” 

“Suppose you’d know.”

“Visual art’s not really my area,” he says, “but you - what do you say? Could line up Nile - ‘Nile Freemont’ with a Master’s in art history and an interview at the Louvre.” 

“You can do that?”

He shrugs. “I’m a better forger than I was when they caught me, back in the day.” It’s not like he actually needs the computer time to track down Copley. 

“We’re on the run.”

“We’re  on the run. They don’t - they probably don’t know about you yet.” Nile considers; Booker continues. “What do you say? Not far, could put you in a car in the morning.” Please say yes.

“You want me to go to a job interview in this?”

“... get you a suit and a car in the morning.” he says, grinning. She’s not going to say yes. She was never going to.

Nile laughs and shakes her head.

“Well, Joe’s as good as an art history degree anyway.”  

Nile stares into the fire for a long time.

“Hey,” he says, “we’re going to get them back, okay? I know this is a lot, but this isn’t nearly as bad as half the stuff we deal with. They’ll be fine.”

“You’ve got a lot of faith in that.” Nile says, one eyebrow raised. 

It helps to know what’s happening. “I trust Andy,” he says, which has the benefit of being true.

Nile looks into the distance. “Quynh,” she starts eventually, and Booker’s stomach drops at the chain of thought linking the two. “She was more than a soldier to Andy, wasn’t she?”

“You know Joe and Nicky?” he says, and Nile nods. “Add a thousand years or so to that.”

Nile nods. “But you didn’t know her.”

“Joe and Nicky told me some about her, in the years after the whole - explaining.” he says, not mentioning the few, pained words he had heard from Andy about her since then too. Some things were - 

There are some confidences he won’t betray today.

“It’s hard for them,” he says. “They did everything they could to try and find her. Everything,” he adds, not mentioning the oceanography journals packed in his bag. It’s more a habit than a hope, at this point, that someone will develop the miracle technology that will let him save the one person he can’t save.

“Andy was surprised,” Nile says, and he can see the firelight reflected in her eyes as she watches him closely, “that I was dreaming of her.”

“It gets easier to hide it,” Booker says, “once you’re used to it. Trust me.”

“So that’s what you’ve been doing for two-hundred years.”

He nods. “They tried searching for her again, when they knew I was - when they knew she was alive. We tried searching for her. But it’s not possible. Reminding them just breaks their hearts,” he says. “Start telling them you’re a restless sleeper now, and it’ll get easier for them to forget.”

“That can’t possibly be how you’ve dealt with this for two hundred years.”

“Well, most of the time isn’t like - this. The team won’t all be together, so.” That’s fine. It’s fine. “No need to hide it. But it’s easier if it’s habit.” He says. “There’s breath training I can teach you, for when you wake up. Helps stop the -” he gestures at his throat. He holds up his flask. “Drinking can help keep it down if you need it. And they make pills these days to help you sleep, or deal with night terrors, those seem to deal with it - though those can knock you out, so make damn sure you’re safe. And don’t need to do anything the next day. Learned that one the hard way.”

Nile’s staring at him like he’s grown two heads. 

“Like I said,” he says, “you need to know what you’re really in for.”

She won’t have to hide it. Not if she can go back to her first family.

But who knows how long it’ll take to make a drug from their blood? Call it - call it a contingency.

“So that’s it? I’m leaving my family for what? A thousand years of nightmares and killing people? Doing what Andy did in that church? In that ...”

He nods. “You’ve got an out on the killing, but the rest -” he shakes his head, “I’d give it to you if I could.” But he will be able to, soon.

“Is it - this can’t be worth it.” Nile says. “I just want to go home.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Booker says. “And… you’re asking the wrong person if it’s worth it.” He shakes his head. “Andy had centuries alone, and then she and Quynh got centuries together, and now -” he waves his hand, “Quynh’s stuck drowning in a box at the bottom of the sea, and Andy -” Andy’s stuck up here. He shrugs. “Joe and Nicky never had to be alone, and they’ve had a few centuries together now, and hopefully they’ll have centuries more, but -” he doesn’t need to finish the sentence.

“And you’re the ‘misery loves company’ guy.” 

“Yeah. The Fifth Beatle, as the kids say,” he says, and Nile snorts, which is a relief. “Immortality can be a gift, but it’s always a prison eventually.” 

But no more. If everything goes according to plan - C? - Plan C. Copley’s going to get them the keys, and none of his family will be imprisoned a second longer than they want to stay. 

Except for Quynh.

“Already feels like a prison to me.”

Booker holds out his flask. “See? You’re ahead of the curve.”

She doesn’t take the flask. “That mean I get to take your spot as the smart one?”

“Oh, no contest.” Booker says, half standing out to gesture Nile to his seat. 

She laughs.