thecapitol | (no subject)

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Who| Cuthbert and Open
What| Extremely mature pouting and moping
Where| District 3 Suites, mostly
When| After his death and return to the Capitol
Warnings/Notes| none so far

Cuthbert Allgood is not taking his latest death well. It doesn't help that his fight with Sherlock is making the rounds in the highlight reel, and he's taking it harder than he has in the past. He hasn't talked to anyone so far, not even the avoxes who he will carry on half conversations with most of the time.

For someone who spends a lot of his time training normally he hasn't been further out of the District 3 Suites than to ride the elevator down to District 1 and back up. He hasn't even been able to get off the elevator to see someone he really wants to see.

Most people will find him wrapped up under a blanket from his room in the main District 3 eating area watching and (surprisingly) not commenting on their activities. All of this is abnormal behavior for him, not that he would notice or care at this point.

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Here is a voice he's actually begrudgingly grateful to hear. One he actually understands and who might, possibly, understand him as well.

"I've forgotten the face of my father, Susannah."

"Oh honey."

Susannah knows exactly what those words mean, too. She leans forward in her chair to awkwardly hug him. "I'm not your dinh," she says softly, "but I'll listen anyway."

He wants to cry as soon as she hugs him, but he has just enough dignity left to keep it in.

"You are the only one who understands. My death was meaningless and worthless and I only wish I hadn't woken from it. Although my father would never speak to me if he came to me in the clearing at the end of the path after what I've done."

Bert doesn't let go of her, or look her in the eyes as he talks. It does feel good to get it off his chest, though, and he's breathing easier once it's said.

"Sssshhh, ssshhhh." She's a little top-heavy on her chair, liable to tumble from it if she leans off much more, but she's ignoring that now, focusing on making shushing noises and stroking his back. "It's okay. It's okay, I know, sweetie, I know. You have my pardon. It's not worth much, but you have it, and you'd have Roland's too if he were here, you know, he's messed up pretty badly himself in his time, believe me, I've heard all about it from his mouth, seen it once or twice too. I can't speak for your daddy, but if he wouldn't give you his pardon he's a plum fool and I'll tell him when I reach the clearing, I will." She takes a deep breath. "I will."

It takes a little bit for Bert to steady himself again. He feels shaky and weak like he's been ill and just started recovering. But the only thing that matters is that he is starting to recover, even if the process will be slow.

"Did... Did Roland ever tell you about the time I hit him square in the face?"

He's still both shocked and a little proud of himself for doing it. Hell, it was worth it just to see the look on Alain's face when he did it.

Susannah nods. "He told us all about your time in Meijis. About Susan and the Big Coffin Hunters and everything." She reaches up to stroke Bert's hair. "Did I ever tell you about the time Roland damn near laughed himself to death in the White Lands of Empathica?"

It's a bit of a relief that he doesn't have to go through that whole story, it's still fresh enough for him that a lot of the wounds haven't healed. This is very cathartic, all the same, and Bert leans into her touch.

"I can hardly picture him laughing at all since he earned his guns, let alone enough to do him any harm. Though I suppose if he was so unused to the sound, he might well laugh himself hoarse."

"Well, Dandelo--the thing that almost killed him--was somethin' special, all right." And Susannah tells him the story, about how after traveling for months in the cold and snow they'd ended up stumbling upon a seemingly kindly old man named Joe Collins--and how the old man had turned out to be something much more sinister.

She keeps stroking his hair as she talks. It feels nice. Maybe she's getting a bit motherly on him, but that's just fine. He's hardly older than a boy, after all, for all that he's as much if not more of a seasoned killer than she is.

He listens to the story quietly and just accepts the petting and affection for what it is. It's soothing in a way little else could be right now.

"Gan, but you had more of an adventure than I could have expected. I wonder just how long Roland went on. Did you see him to the very end? To the Tower, as he was always meant to go?"

Bert isn't upset with it, just curious. He had always known deep down that he wouldn't be there at the end with his friend.

"I don't know, really," Susannah says, softly. "I don't think time touched him like it did most people. He looked like he might have been fifty or more. For a while he had a touch of the old rheumatiz, sometimes, in the morning. But... but for everyone we met, Gilead was a place from the far-off past. Not tens of years. Hundreds."

She sighs.

"I got close to it. So close. We were mere days out from it on foot. Him and me and Oy the Billy Bumbler and Patrick, the boy we'd rescued from Dandelo's cellar. But I'd been having dreams, about Eddie, my husband, and Jake, the fourth member of our ka-tet and the son of Roland's heart... they'd died, you know, along the way. Both of them. Dreams of them in the park at Christmas, waiting for me. And in my dreams there was a door and in the end I had Patrick draw it for me. The things he drew would become real, you see. So Patrick drew the door for me and I took my gunna and I went through it and I was there in that park, you know, for a moment, just a moment. Then everything went black and I was here."

She sighs again, shaking her head.

"But I think they went on, Roland and Patrick and Oy. I think they made it to the Tower together."

If it was anyone else, Cuthbert might accuse them of lying, but he's just sort of naturally inclined to believe Susannah and all the stories she tells. They're good stories no matter what.

"Did he really go all that way with a billybumbler at his heals? I can hardly picture it..."

The idea makes him smile though, which is definitely a step in the right direction at the moment. He doesn't want to move from where he's leaned himself against Susannah, but eventually he should sit up and give himself some room.

It's okay. She's pretty good just for holding onto him right now. "Mm, not all the way. Oy didn't show up until Jake did. A bit before Lud. But yes, the bumbler did go a long way with us." She strokes his hair. "He was-- good for Roland. I think having a ka-tet again was good for him. He'd... he'd outlived everyone, you and Alain and Jamie and the rest. I s'pose I can tell you that straight out now, you prob'bly guessed already."

She sighs. "That was prob'bly why I left in the end. Because he was outlivin' the rest of us again."

Edited 2014-01-31 08:00 (UTC)

"He would never admit how much he needs others around. But then, none of us want to. You must understand by now what a dangerous road a Gunslinger walks. 'Twould be better to walk it alone."

He's mostly referring to friends and family outside of other Gunslingers. The ones who are easiest to lose when things go bad.

"But it sounds as if you did him very well while you were together."

"We did," Susannah says with a soft sigh. "We did very well for ourselves, for a good long time, did Roland well especially. If you could have seen how he was when Eddie and I first met him, then seen how he was last time I saw him-- he'd become human again, Bert."

She's still stroking his hair. "No matter how it seems, no matter how dangerous, Bert, you don't want to walk the road of the Gunslinger alone. Roland did for so very long and by the end of it he was more a shootin' machine than a man proper."

Cuthbert is wistful at that. "I always hoped the man we knew would come out again. We saw him once, and lost him not long after."

He wants to stay here comfortably with Susannah stroking his hair, but he's finally starting to feel better and therefore more guilty about needing the attention.

"You don't have to stay. I... I will be okay."

"Hush," she says and kisses his brow gently. "I don't mind it. Besides, you're practically-- you're practically kin, Bert, white boy or no. If a ka-tet is almost a family--and it is, or at least it was for us--and we've shared our dinh... doesn't that make us nearly part of the same tet?" She shrugs. "Besides, I'm going to be around here a lot more in the future, visiting Eddie, so I might as well visit you while I'm at it."

"There are times when a ka-tet is closer than family." And Cuthbert does consider Susannah part of his tet now. She and Karkat and maybe one or two others who he's gotten close with and trusts. But she's first on that list.

"What is it you see in him? He's a fool full of jokes and must be forced to find serious issues serious. On second thought, why don't more women see those charming attributes seriously?"

"Mm. Not sure who that makes our dinh, though." She keeps petting his hair, although she pulls back a little so they can see each other's faces properly again. "He makes me laugh. He's braver than he knows. And he's got a good heart." Then she smiles a sly conspiratorial smile at him. "And he's an excellent kisser."

Bert grins back with the same smile. "Oh, you don't have to tell me that."

But he doesn't offer anything more than that, hoping she'll call his bluff.

Susannah rolls her eyes. "I thought your interests lay with those grey people."

"My interests lie in many places, m'lady." He smiles down at her again, and then catches himself. "Not with you, though, I know better than to go after another man's claim."

H meant that sincerely, although like a lot of things he said, it came out more sexist than he actually meant.

Another eye roll. She's still smiling though, so she must be amused by him anyway. "Honey, you might want to express that a little more diplomatically than that. Gen'rally girls these days don't particularly like to be called property." (Being from before second wave feminism really got going, she's not going to argue any further than that.)

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