(no subject)

[lastgunslinger]

The door opens, and Roland enters, bearing Kaylee.

The bed is made; Roland sets Kaylee down carefully, and stands there looking down at her for a moment.

He reaches for the blue blanket that stretches across the foot of the bed -- the one made by the hand of Rosalita Munoz -- and covers Kaylee with it.

Then he sits on the edge of the bed and puts his face in his hands.

Comments

[gonna_live]

Kaylee's quiet.

Either way, Mal is going to worry.

"Don't tell him. Or...tell him I'll talk to him, later. If he asks."

[simon_doctor]

"I will."

He squeezes her hand once, then stands up and turns to Roland.

"Is it all right if she stays here until I get back?"

[lastgunslinger]

Roland nods. "Fine." Gently -- for Roland, anyhow. "Go on. We'll be here."

He's aware of Alain standing there, quietly observing all of this.

There'll be time to answer questions later. For now...there's Kaylee to deal with, and then...

...Paris.

God and the Man Jesus.

[gonna_live]

Simon slips out of the room, and the door closes behind him.

Kaylee's alone with Alain and Roland.

She can't look at either of them.

[honest-johns.livejournal.com]

Alain's hand rested on Roland's shoulder while he was sitting, a silent You all right? and a grounding presence. He let his arm fall when Roland stood, but both messages are still there, passing wordless between them. But he doesn't say anything, yet -- not with Kaylee here, and still upset. He doesn't want to do anything to make her feel worse, and he doesn't need words, with Roland. Not for the important things.

So he speaks to Kaylee instead, after a minute, soft and compassionate. "Nobody blames you, Kaylee. None of us. Not your fault -- spell-mazing's nothing to be ashamed of. Say true."

[lastgunslinger]

Roland nods. "I've seen the work of black roses before. The Lord of Dreams himself couldn't stand against one."

Only hesitating a moment, not sure if it will be a welcome gesture, he steps closer to Kaylee and rests a light hand on her head.

"No lasting harm's been done. Not to me, or to River or Simon, or to Anthy." Pause. "And what passed doesn't have to go beyond these people. I'll not speak of it, and I know that Alain won't -- unless you allow it. All right?"

[gonna_live]

An audible sniff, and a shaky sigh.

And she nods.

"Feel kinda stupid. Met him. Kinda...creepifyin'. But...I didn't know that's what he did."

[lastgunslinger]

"I met him, too. And yes. As you say. Creepifying."

Quiet. Soothing.

"We'll sort it out."

Sort him out.

[honest-johns.livejournal.com]

Only a quick flicker of a glance at Roland -- all that's needed, for understanding and full agreement -- and his face is again calm and soothing as his eyes return to Kaylee. He crouches, near the bed. Not so near as to impinge, if she still wants to avoid looking at them, but he doesn't want to be towering over her.

Gently, "He'd have worked hard to make sure no one did know. We do now. It will be well, Kaylee."

[gonna_live]

A sidelong glance at Alain...and she nods. For a moment there's a hint of a smile.

"...thanks."

It's all she knows to say.

And then there's a knock on the door, and Simon sticks his head back in.

Kaylee rises, a little shaky, and goes to the door. She looks back at them for a moment, and then there's another hint of a smile -- and then she slips out the door after Simon, and the door closes.

[lastgunslinger]

And as soon as the door is closed, Roland's hand goes to his chest. "Fuck."

He lowers himself onto the bed, and looks at Alain, shaking his head slightly. "Just...fuck."

[honest-johns.livejournal.com]

And Alain lets the mask of soothing calm drop, and his disquiet and deep worry show through clearly.

Softly, "You all right, Ro'?"

[lastgunslinger]

He almost replies acerbically -- and then the fundamental absurdity of the situation just...gets to him.

Roland grins.

"I just had a fucking sword pulled out of my fucking chest, Al." And he laughs. "What do you think?"

Still laughing. Then: "Ow. Fuck."

No more laughter. Hurts his chest.

[honest-johns.livejournal.com]

Alain's not laughing.

The worry just got deeper.

After a moment, with quiet venom, "I think I want to find that bastard Mikage." Three guesses what happens next.

He exhales. "Fuck."

It's the word of the hour.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland rubs the side of his face. "You're not the only one."

He looks at Alain.

"Starting to wonder about Anthy. A lot." Pause. "She came from a place called Ohtori Academy. So did he."

[honest-johns.livejournal.com]

Head-tilt, and narrowed eyes. Say on.

Academy, is it.

And black roses, from both of them.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland is quiet for a long time.

(I myself have some small measure of autonomy in my work -- the seminar I run is by invitation and application only. Not merely for those with noted academic abilities...their potential is the key.)

"He spoke of fulfilling potential, by getting around blocks in the mind, to give students what they most desire. Runs a special class."

Eyes burning.

"Reminded me of Gabriel Tam. Say true."

[honest-johns.livejournal.com]

"But he runs the class. Teacher."

Low. Not really a question.

Alain's narrowed eyes glitter.

[lastgunslinger]

"Aye." Pause. "Said that Anthy had never applied for his class."

He looks at Alain.

Quietly: "Eddie ever say something to you? 'Coincidence has been cancelled'?" Beat. "Don't know if that's what's going on. But I wonder, very much."

[honest-johns.livejournal.com]

A single nod. He's heard the phrase.

He's wondering now, too.

...And still really, really wanting to have Mikage within gunshot range. He wants it with a cold fury that strengthens every time he looks at Roland's grey face and the exhausted set of his shoulders.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland stands, then -- slowly -- and goes to the armoire.

Out comes the suit, and the top hat.

He looks at Alain. "Going to Paris tonight, with Lilly. One of Meg's performances."

[honest-johns.livejournal.com]

Alain doesn't ask if he'll be all right.

Wants to. But it's a stupid question. It's Roland's decision to make, and he's made it.

Instead, his jaw sets for a moment -- the worry's more hidden now, but it's still there -- and then he nods.

"All right. I'll be around."

Around, in case Roland wants him later.

Around, keeping an eye out for a certain pink-haired teacher.

[lastgunslinger]

A slight smile.

"Thanks, Al."

He knows he doesn't have to say it.

He says it anyway.

Because he can.