Homeplot 1/12

[silenttrainbaby]

The rocking of the train felt like it came from inside his bones. Grey knew it by heart. He adjusted easily, he adjusted without thinking anything of it. He moved between the bunks, knowing just where to reach for, what to touch, what bunks to avoid because of splinters, what people didn't like being touched. He stopped at Edgar and Curtis's bunk, peering into both to see if they were there, then if they were awake. He checked Curtis first. Curtis would have answers.

How he came to be here again, he didn't know. How he woke up here when he'd gone to bed with Rat, Grey didn't know. The smells here are harsh on his nose; he'd grown used to being clean. Curtis? Maybe he knew. Maybe they could go together to see Gilliam. His stomach was twisted so tightly it hurt. Gilliam. He'd said goodbye to Gilliam, he'd let him go. He'd let go of this coat, too - it was supposed to be hanging in Yuuko's closet. But he wore it.

Wake up, Curtis. Wake up. They were back on the train.

Comments

[manwiththeknife]

It was like his body hadn't completely shed the train. The rhythm of it, the smells, the heaviness of the air. Those were a part of him, and a few months of comfort wouldn't change that.

When his eyes sprang open, Grey's hand on his arm, it took a long moment for his brain to catch up. They were moving, the tracks rattling under them. The engine pulling them forward.

Bolting upright, Curtis's clamped down tight on Grey's arms with both hands-- Both hands. What the fuck did that mean?

Around them, life in the tail churned on, like it always had, before. Before their misguided revolution. Before Nam's kronol. Before.

They were back, and he felt sick, but part of him... Part of him was almost relieved.

"What the hell happened? Do you--" Do you remember? But he didn't ask it out loud. He couldn't bring himself to.

[silenttrainbaby]

All Grey could do was shake his head. He stared at both of Curtis's hands, eyes wide, then back at his face.

Did that mean that they are stuck here? That they couldn't go back? He thought of Rat with a lurch. There was so much to go back to.

He waited for Curtis to tell him what to do. Where to go. But even as he waited, he looked to the back. Toward Gilliam's room.

[manwiththeknife]

In spite of Grey shaking his head, Curtis knew that Grey, at the very least, remembered the city. If he hadn't, there would've been no explanation for that stricken look on the boy's face.

"No," Curtis said, holding onto Grey as he watched him look toward Gilliam's room. It was nothing more than a small partitioned section of the tail, but compared to the bunks the rest of them shared, it was massive. Of course it was. "No, just... wait. Let me think."

[silenttrainbaby]

Feeling that hand around his wrist, Grey stops, looking to Curtis again. But ...

On the train, they listen to Gilliam. He listens to Gilliam. It seems strange, almost against his very nature, not to go.

Think? Think about what?

[manwiththeknife]

Dragging in a breath, Curtis looked away, weighing all the pros of keeping quiet. Of continuing the lie. The cons of opening his mouth and finally saying:

"There's something you don't know. Something that happened... after. After I made it over the narrow bridge."

After you were dead, he didn't say.

[silenttrainbaby]

It was the way Curtis said it as much as what he says. Grey watched his face, going still.

Well? What happened?

[manwiththeknife]

"I spoke to Wilford. He said some things. Some things about Gilliam," Curtis admitted, his voice pitched low, barely audible over the rumble of the train.

"I didn't want to believe them. I still don't. But... some of them fit."

[silenttrainbaby]

Fit what?

Grey stares at Curtis unblinking. He got to the front; that was what that meant, right? That Curtis got to the front. And spoke to Wilford?!

But he felt a cold splash down his back. What did he say about Gilliam?

[manwiththeknife]

"He said that he and Gilliam were old friends. That they'd been working together," Curtis said, idly opening and closing his left hand, still getting used to the feeling of having it back.

"The red letters. They were from Wilford the whole time, and Gilliam knew it."

[silenttrainbaby]

IT felt cold - colder than it had felt before, what Curtis said.

But ... how could Gilliam and Wilford being working together?! That ... how is that possible?!

Grey's chest is hurting; it feels tight. He nudges at Curtis's shoulder. What does he mean?!

[manwiththeknife]

"I don't know," he snapped, voice hoarse and his teeth clinching. He pressed a hand over his mouth, holding back a tumble of words that would only be hurtful.

He played all of us. We were just game pieces to him. Cogs in that fucking machine. The eternal fucking engine.

"I don't know," he said again, weaker. "Wilford said that the revolution was necessary. We were culling the herd. Restoring balance. But we weren't supposed to make it past the water supply car. Gilliam... he didn't hold up his end of the bargain."

[silenttrainbaby]

Was that good, then? That Gilliam didn't? "Culling the herd"?!

Grey looks to the the curtained area where Gillam should be. They would go, yes? They would ask? They could, right? Now? He turns back to Curtis, pulling on his hand. Yes?

[manwiththeknife]

No.

Everything in him was screaming it. No, stay the fuck away from him. They were finally free of the train, the last thing they needed to do was get sucked back in.

But instead, he nodded reluctantly, feeling sick as he said, "Fine. Okay. Let's talk to him."

[silenttrainbaby]

Surely, everything would be explained. Surely.

Grey waited for Curtis to climb down, then led the way to the curtain. He held it for a moment before he pushed it aside, though, his chest feeling tight enough that it hurt. He hurt. He was scared which was really strange.

Why should he be afraid of Gilliam?

Curtis could see him square his shoulders and hold the curtain aside to step in.

[shadowofashadow]

Gilliam is where he's expected, carefully seated behind his makeshift table with his precious few scraps of civilization. A memento here, a book there. All of it becomes secondary when Grey enters.

"I'd wondered where you'd gone," he says warmly, holding up his good hand to beckon him over.

[manwiththeknife]

Before he could think, before he could stop himself, Curtis rested a hand on Grey's shoulder, momentarily keeping him from stepping forward.

His expression was shadowed as he peered at Gilliam from over Grey's shoulder, shrewd and calculating, as if the answers were there, if he only looked carefully enough.

But it was Grey's decision, whether or not he stepped forward, not Curtis'. With a steeling breath, he let his hand fall away. He let Grey go.

[silenttrainbaby]

Curtis's hand had stopped him: Grey had been leaning forward, like a moth to a flame.

He thought he had let Gilliam go: grieved his loss. But here he was and what Curtis said made no sense, not here when Gilliam was looking at him and reaching for him.

With a staggered sigh, he moved, kneeling by Gilliam, taking that hand in his. For all he thought, for all he had learned in the City, it seemed that this would always be home.

[shadowofashadow]

The hesitation troubles Gilliam and he cups Grey's cheek, running fingers slowly into his dark hair. It's thick, dirty, the way everyone's is on the train. But it's Grey and he adores his young protege.

"Curtis. You look as though you've seen ghost."

[manwiththeknife]

Gritting his teeth, Curtis watched as Grey knelt at Gilliam's feet, worshipful as always.

Coughing out a laugh, he said. "No. Not a ghost."

Not yet. But he would be. Gone, just a fucking tainted memory.

Letting the curtain fall shut behind him, Curtis stepped further into the room.

"We're gonna talk. I have some questions that need answers. You're gonna give them to me."

[silenttrainbaby]

Instinct told Grey to protect Gilliam. It was what he had done most of his life. He half-turned to stop Curtis, but caught himself. He could see Rat's face behind his eyelids. So, he sat at Gilliam's feet, staying close, but not touching.

[shadowofashadow]

That mistrust was something that Gilliam hadn't seen before in Curtis. In Edgar's eyes, perhaps, or in MacGregor those four years ago. But in Curtis? In Grey?

"What's wrong, Curtis?"