another life beyond the line

First meeting, March 22, 1986

The Great Lakes, March 22/23, 1986

The Upside-Down, March 24, 1986

Nashville March 25, 1986 - March 28, 1957/1932

Virginia to New York, March 28, 1932/15XX; March 28 - 30, 1991/1814

Virginia Beach, March 31 - April 2, 1922

Wilmington NC, April 2, 1977 - April 5, 1957

Tifton, GA to Canoe Cemetery, FL, April 6 - 8, 2004

Florida to New Orleans, LA to Nacogdoches, TX, April 8, 2004/1922 - Early morning April 10, 1834

Nacogdoches, TX to outside Tucson, AZ, April 10, 1834/1946 - April 13, 1999

Tucson, AZ - Los Angeles, April 13 - 19, 1967

Los Angeles, April 19, 1967 - June 7, 1987

Ludlow, AZ to ??, June 7, 1987 -

[A few hours of open road makes for easygoing fun. It's great to be traveling again, and the feeling of Chrissy leaning up against his back, holding on tight while he whips ahead on a wide-open freeway through the pitch black of night is like nothing else. The last time they were racing up and down this freeway, they were on the way to go burn a bunch of people's lives down - but now that's hours back, back with the rest of the city. They've left the lights and have nothing to look at but the pavement in Johnnie's headlight, the glimpses of stars shining weakly through hazy clouds, and occasionally an oncoming car.

Johnnie hasn't exactly been trying to tune in to his senses or abilities or whatever it is he has - he's just been cruising, letting the night go by, enjoying their plunge northward without a care or a thought. So it is deeply irritating when the pavement quickly fades to a well-worn dirt track that almost tosses him and Chrissy to the ground, and it takes all of his skills to get the front wheel under control and to slow down before they hit a rock that really might launch them into the nearest alfalfa field. Or whatever it is that's here, whenever they've found themselves. Somewhere pre-freeway. Boo.

But there are a few lights ahead, and he did need a stop to pee, so, fuck it.]

Well, shit. Y'know, I dunno exactly where we are. Last sign said San Jose was still fuckin' hours off. You good? That was kinda shaky.

[As long as this dirt road stays packed, they can drive it, but it's going to be slow. Good thing they're almost to somewhere.]

[The Ender's familiar car is a welcome sight, as is his equally familiar form emerging out into the open. He's parked a good distance off from where they have, which gives him plenty of room to take his time walking over. As usual, he's perfectly on time. It doesn't matter what time it really is, because he himself is a force as powerful as time itself.

Chrissy realizes that Johnnie's right about the nerves. The second the Ender's in close, she does feel a lot better. It's like something inside of her feels warm and at ease when he's nearby. She tries to press a hand over her belly to ignore the feeling of eager energy and the desire to please him and make him proud. She never had that kind of relationship with her own father, but she thinks she'd do whatever it takes to make the Ender pleased with her. She just wants his approval so much, and she's pretty sure he knows it.

The darkness in her responds to everything he's made of, and that's the most primal familial sense of belonging she's ever felt. She can't ever tell Johnnie, but the connection she shares with the Ender is more important and powerful than her devotion to the World Enders. Sure, the gang is led by the Ender. It's a part of him. But she feels she's connected to him in a more baseline way. Johnnie is too, to some extent. That darkness that's inside her is crying out to be wrapped up in the comfort of the darkness that's just arrived. And Chrissy can't ignore those baseline urges, so she moves over to give the Ender a quick hug. It's all she needs to feel completely at ease, like he himself is a drug or something.]

I hope I didn't keep you two waiting.

[He's smiling a little as Chrissy pulls back and goes over to take hold of Johnnie's hand. She's grinning too, and shakes her head to reassure him.]

Not for long. We just got here a minute ago. I guess we were both excited to be here.

[The smile on the Ender's face becomes more of a confident smirk, and he gives a slow nod.]

Good. Remember that excitement if things get hard from here on out.

[That's said in a way that's a promise they will get hard, and Chrissy gulps as she holds onto Johnnie's hand a little tighter. If the Ender notices, he doesn't give any sign, and instead turns on his heel to start leading the way further down. There's no point in standing around talking. There's work to be done.]

[The apartment complex is quiet tonight. Midnight is typically an active time here, with impromptu hangouts in the parking lot, basketball games and alcohol and bullshitting. But the gang has work to do and it seems tonight a lot of them are out running various jobs - or perhaps just partying elsewhere. They sky is extra-dark, too - those rainclouds still hover, occasionally drizzling enough to keep the pavement reflecting the street lights that haven't been broken in contests of rock-throwing marksmanship.

The Ender slips out of that darkness like a shadow folding out of shadows. It's no dramatic entrance, no sudden apparition or tearing of the stuff of the world. He wasn't there a moment ago, no, but somehow now he is, walking toward her with a calm patience.

Is she early? Evidently not. Whatever time it is, she must be on time perfectly fine.]

I hope I didn't keep you waiting.

[Racing down the interstate as fast as they fucking can, Johnnie tugs Chrissy closer and ducks low over his bike. They're streamlined now, they'll pick up just a little bit more speed, and then they can outride this giant evil fucking wasp for sure -

His eyes blink slowly against the light in the room, and then he frowns and lifts his pillow from under his head and flings it at the alarm clock on the bedside table. That shouldn't work, except that it falls off the table and unplugs in the process, leaving the room blissfully silent.

And now he doesn't have a pillow. Shit.]

Ugh. Hey, you up?

[Like Chrissy could sleep through that.

Soon enough though, he rolls on out of bed, gets the water going, tugs fresh clean clothing out of his bag, then checks on that shower. Yep, nice and hot. Time to get clean and ready for the day.]

Whatcha think? Wanna check out the cafe for breakfast? Maybe we can make 'em do some eggs an' pancakes even though they're gonna say it's dinner only now. I hate when places do that, it's such fuckin' bullshit.

[Chrissy's first week of independence is best described as falling into numbness. She gets to the hotel and gets in her room, and doesn't have a chance to call Moonbeam because she spends so much time in the bathroom crying. She gets her act together when Andy comes over to go over the setlist, and that puts her in a good enough place she can call Moonbeam to come by. And Chrissy's so grateful that she does, since she needs help getting ready for her big debut. She goes out and performs, and is delighted to be invited back the next night.

That night turns into another invite, as well as a booking at another club down the street. She performs well, is able to give it her all on stage. But she doesn't have the heart to do anything more than that, even when Clicks or Moonbeam comes by to check in on her. By the third night she's fallen into a pretty depressed place, and she winds up taking a bottle of whiskey that's offered to her at the club and drinks enough to fall asleep without crying.

She really wants to prove that she's brave, that she can do this. But the worried looks that Moonbeam gives her make her question everything. She isn't eating, isn't doing much of anything other than performing and crying in her hotel room. It's just so hard to want to do anything when it feels like her heart has been torn out of her chest. The sadness only compounds, which seems to suit her on stage. What was an act at first is a genuinely broken and lonely performance, a songbird with clipped wings that can't fly away back to the one she loves. It works out for her in the end, with Andy letting her know that they've been invited to perform at three more clubs the following week. One of them happens to belong to a known associate of Z'Oiseau, a club he's been known to attend with Fleur.

It's late at night when she gets the news, even later when she finally makes it back to the hotel, and tries calling the apartment to tell them what's going on. There's no answer, which makes sense because they're bound to be out. Dale's number rings and rings, and so does Clicks. Even Moonbeam seems busy this far past midnight, and Chrissy settles into bed with a joint and the tv playing so she has a little noise for company. That ache that misses Johnnie something fierce is still there, but it's dampened by the weed and the anticipation for a potential big break.

By the end of her first week alone, she feels like a ghost of the person she had become the past month or so. Smiling feels hollow, so she doesn't do it. She performs on stage, and men eat up the energy she puts out that says she's broken. She quickly learns that if there's one thing men love, it's a pretty face they think they can fix and mold into something they can fuck. She's counting on seeing Johnnie soon, and that's the only thing getting her through without giving up completely. Yeah, she's sad. Really sad. But it's temporary, she tells herself. Just a phase she has to get through.

On the seventh night, she takes drinks that are offered to her by men in the audience, and Andy gets her back to the hotel safe and makes sure she gets to bed. She's a mess, but she's a sweet girl. A good kid. And he takes his job of watching out for her seriously now that he's gotten to know her a little. She's tipsy, but not so much that she can't try calling the apartment again. There's no answer, but that's not a surprise. Every time she's managed to catch anyone, it was in the early afternoon. The conversations were all clipped and short, all business. But now she's at the point where she hasn't spoken to Johnnie in a week, and it feels like she's dying on the inside. He promised he'd come see her, and she waits because she knows he'll make good on his word.]

[All that work getting the bike back up and onto the road is surprisingly exhausting. She's glad when they get situated and head out, so she can just relax up against him and catch her breath and rest her sore arms. The radio playing is the only sound that needs to be heard over the road, the silence between them pleasant except for idle chatter here and there.

It doesn't really take them too long to pull off the highway once they reach Tucson, with a kitschy 50's diner set up right on the access road. She points it out and he pulls into the parking lot, and she's so eager to eat and get back on the road that she practically topples over the side of the bike and onto the pavement.

She's naturally graceful enough that she somehow lands on her feet, and grabs hold of his hand to pull him off and into her arms. She kisses him once, twice, and then a couple more times for good measure. With her hands against the back of his head, she guides him to press his forehead against hers and she just enjoys standing there basking in his presence for a couple of seconds. If she's this eager and excited, she can't imagine how he must feel today. They're finally in the home stretch.]

Let me grab my makeup bag, then we can go in.

[That's important. She knows there's a long stretch of road between here and home, but there's no way she's meeting his friends and family looking like a mess. Not going to happen.]

[So this is how he gets away with it, then. Cruz, a skeleton, with a skeleton horse, lives in a skeleton of a house with a skeletal barn attached - and he remains unseen, his home apparently abandoned, all the way on the outskirts of this thing that's barely a town.

Well, you do what you gotta do, and Johnnie won't turn down a kind offer of a safe place to stay the night. He can't help but grin at Chrissy having such a good time riding that bony horse as he pulls the bike in through the barn door and parks it to the side, then hops off.]

Hey man, we owe ya for this. Here.

[See, this is yet another reason it's good to stock up on alcohol. He finds their most recent stolen bottle of tequila and pulls it out as he saunters over to their host and offers it in an outstretched hand.]

On us. Uh, if you drink, that is. You do drink, right?

[Normally that would be a dumb question to ask but the guy appears to be actual bones. But, bones that can smoke, without lungs, so he can probably drink without a mouth, right?

That earns a laugh from Cruz.]

I sure do, fella. You don't have to, though. I'm not looking for any kind of repayment, just helping out a couple folks in need.

[Johnnie shakes his head and waves that attempt off.]

Nah, it's all yours. Or if you really insist, we can all split it tomorrow, the three of us an' the rest of your crew. Can't wait to meet 'em. They all skeletons too?

[Chrissy sleeps protectively wrapped around Johnnie, like her presence will keep bad dreams and evil away from him. Their limbs are tangled, their bodies intertwined. And Chrissy sleeps like the dead, not waking until sunlight warms her skin and wakes her. She blinks awake, yawning and smiling as she stays in close to him.

There's something that's off though. Something she can't really put her finger on, not until her eyes are open and she's lifting her head.

She's really not expecting to be greeted with the sight of a cluster of people standing around them. Some are smoking pipes, others are scratching the side of their heads with muskets. They're all discussing her short skirt and Johnnie's motorcycle, and what the two of them are doing laying out beneath the tree.

Her eyes go wide and she practically burrows herself in as close as possible against Johnnie. Maybe she's just imagining them. She's finally lost her mind after all that tequila last night.

When she still hears their assorted voices a few seconds later, she tugs down at her skirt and tries shaking him awake.]

Johnnie. [Her voice is low, but afraid. She doesn't necessarily think they're in any danger, but she's definitely weirded out.] You need to wake up. There's people here.

[The night carries the two of them south. While Johnnie's original plan based on his map had been to travel down the coastline, he's still cautious about what lurks there, and opts for a quieter, inland route that bypasses most of the major cities in South Carolina. Whatever this state might hold, they'll miss it, aside for a brief pit stop near Lake Marion to refuel the tank, fill up on snacks, and get Chrissy a little more knife fighting practice (though with sticks found at the lakeside, no sharp edges here) before either of them are too low on energy for that.

There are long stretches where towns mostly vanish, where they're lucky to have pavement at all judging by the lack of civilization around them. The road material shifts at one point into something strange and glassy, and Johnnie has a hard time finding traction for the bike - and the explanation comes in the form of some strange electric vehicle with neon lights that zips rapidly past them, floating over the road rather than touching it. It's cool, but it also makes the hair rise on the back of his neck.

The orange-pink disc of the sun is just barely visible emerging on the horizon as they ride into Tifton. That last leg of the road had been so dark and quiet Johnnie had fallen into something of a trance, hypnotized by the black road and its yellow stripes, but a road sign for the Tifton Mine ("an unbelievable journey through time you don't dare miss!") and the lights of a fire station and golf club at the edge of town snap him out of his thoughts.

The mine is to the north, and part of him wants to just take that road and go straight there. But Chrissy needs a real bed to sleep in while she recovers from her injuries, still - dozing on the road probably doesn't count enough. And, okay, maybe he could use a couple hours' rest, too.

They pass a fucking taquería and that blows his mind, and then as they get farther and farther into the city he continues to sit straight up and look a little bit startled by all the lights and signs and everything for what was marked as some tiny little dot on a map that he was expecting to have no more than maybe five hundred people. The music, too, keeping him awake this last part of the ride, is even more unfamiliar than it was in the 90s, and as he merges with traffic and looks around at dancing lights and animated billboards, he spots a bank with a time, date, and temperature reading for some absurd reason.

April 6, 2004.]

Hey, you seein' all this, Chrissy?

[Who knows if she's even awake right now, but maybe the slowing of his bike and the surprising amount of traffic at this hour have done the trick. Now they just need to find a motel, and the main drag up ahead looks like a good bet.]

[An hour's drive outside of the flames of Virginia Beach finally returns them to solid pavement.]

Yes! Oh, fuck yes, finally.

[And Johnnie is sure glad to see it, as he cheers with a fist in the air. Now he can just sit back and let the bike carry them without having to dodge rocks and slide around in the occasional patch of mud. Those old roads are a fun challenge for a little while, no doubt, but they get old fast.

Relieved now, though, Johnnie leans back a little against Chrissy behind him, and looks around in the darkness at what he can make out of the countryside. Lights dot a lot more little plots of land now, the occasional car passes going north, and what was moments ago swamp and forest has definitely turned more toward farmland from what illumination he can get from the headlight of the bike. There's some song on the radio about a place called Margaritaville, which he sure doesn't recognize.]

You know this one?

[Might be more in her wheelhouse. He'll just keep watching for road signs or town names, anything to tell them if they're on a real highway or some shitty side road so he can work out how far they actually traveled in that last hour, and how much longer until they reach the coast.]

[The drive winds up being a little longer than expected, with lots of stretches of farmland and dirt road. Eventually though, that muddy dirt road turns to pavement. It's right around the time they seem to hit a piney woods stretch of scenery, with trees nice and tall and smelling like spring. Chrissy can't get enough of breathing in nice deep breaths of air, even when Johnnie laughs at her for doing it so often.

You can smell how they're coming back to life! She points out, but laughs at herself because it is pretty silly.

As the hours tick by, crude pavement turns into something a little better. And eventually the radio even comes on from the static. Chrissy isn't sure what time period they're in, but as the forests give way to water, she's an absolute bundle of energy. She knows his leg is hurt, but can't stay entirely still in the seat. Wriggling in anticipation, she finds this setting so much more pristine and beautiful than anything New York had to offer.

By the time the waterways give way to actual beach towns, Chrissy's beside herself with joy. The ocean air smells amazing, and she swears she can hear the sound of the waves crashing. It doesn't matter that they're not right at the ocean yet. She knows she can hear it over the sound of his radio finally playing something. It sounds old, which means they're probably still in the past.

But colorful little strips of tourist areas and cute little beach cottages tell her that it's not an entirely miserable time period. Whenever this is, they can make this work. Johnnie seems to just know what's best to impress her, because he pulls up outside the cutest and most secluded little cottage out of all of them in the town they're in. And he makes her stay put while he hobbles over to check things out.

When he comes back to help her off the bike, she doesn't ask him if he broke in. She knows he has. Whoever stays here isn't around right now, and they're far enough away from any nosy neighbors that no one is likely to ever take notice. Of course, she has to reward him for being so perfect. The cottage is right on the beach, sand all around. The water is so close they can just walk right outside and enjoy it whenever they want.

They'll have to get their things inside eventually. But at first she helps him along through the sand until they're standing right at the edge of the ocean. It's so beautiful, she can't stop the tears that come to her eyes.]

This...

[She can't really put it into words, how she's feeling right now.]

You have no idea how long I've wanted to see this.

[The words are choked up, and she wipes at her eyes so she won't actually cry and ruin a perfectly good moment with tears.]

[Chrissy falls asleep in no time at all, not caring that they're on the ground outside. Everything is an adventure with Johnnie, and she's come to enjoy their camp outs as much as she likes getting to stay in a motel. All that matters to her is that they're not in any danger, they're warm enough, and they're cuddled in so close together that it's obvious they belong to one another. Not that anyone passes them by, not in the spot he's found for them.

She's so drained that she sleeps until he starts to shift and move. With how tangled together that they are, he has to physically move her to get enough space to slip free. It's the warmth of his body that she misses, and grumbles softly in protest as she tries to curl in on herself and sleep a little more.

Just five more minutes. Five more, and she'll be ready to take on the day. When the curling in on herself doesn't help her fall back asleep right away, she hmphs and rolls over to lay on her belly, burying her face against the soft fur coat. She used to be a huge morning person. What happened?]

[Somewhere around ten in the morning the sunlight coming in through the crooked motel curtain gets to be too much to sleep through. Johnnie grumbles, reaches for one of the extra and extremely unnecessary pillows, and flings it across the room at the window with his arm like the beam of a catapult.

Of course, not only does that not help, it also don't do much other than make a muffled whump as the pillow misses and hits the wall, then tumbles to the floor.]

Fuck.

[He groans the word like morning is just personally offensive to him, then sits up, dragging most of the covers with him.

Of course, he's mindful of Chrissy too - she's still there, this is real, it's a new morning, and she's nice and warm and it's so tempting to just sink back down and attach himself to her like some kind of pathetic sea creature that needs to cling so as not to get swept away with the tide. But he's not fucking pathetic and the morning is just bullshit and they have another long drive. Four hours isn't much compared to some of what he's done, sure, but it's still four hours and he hasn't slept nearly enough.]

Gonna get coffee.

[He mumbles in her direction as he drags himself out of bed to pull on some clothes, and then disappears in the direction of the continental breakfast in the lobby. A few minutes later he's back, setting coffee on the table, as well as a couple of bagels and some tiny single-serving packets of cream cheese.]

You sleep okay?

[Chrissy falls into a deep, dreamless sleep. She doesn't wake up until he pulls her out of sleep the next day. Despite knowing that Hawkins lies ahead of them, she's in a rested and good mood as they pack up their things and get ready to head out. They stop at a diner about thirty minutes away, and don't waste too much time eating. That probably has to do with the fact they both inhale their food and then some, and Chrissy's pleased to note that the waitress can see them just fine.

So maybe he's right, and they're only half dead. Either that, or starving ghosts can make themselves be seen in the name of getting food.

They go wash up in the bathroom before heading out from the diner, and Chrissy almost tries luring him into one of the stalls with her. But she behaves herself, feeling a little tense as they head back out to his bike.

The drive to Hawkins both feels like it takes forever and goes by too quickly. They listen to music and quietly chat about their childhood, and Chrissy keeps her arms wrapped tight around him the entire drive. Occasionally she presses a kiss to the back of his neck or his leather clad shoulder. The affection is easy and natural at this point, and he doesn't seem to mind her giving it to him anymore. It's just part of the way they are together.

That easy affection continues as they pull into Hawkins and Chrissy feels sick to her stomach. It's late afternoon by the time they pull up in front of her house, and her legs feel like they're made of Jello as he lifts her off the bike. She takes two steps before stumbling right into him, clinging hold of his hand for dear life. ]

I don't know if I can do this.

[She whispers, feeling so stupid. He's here with her, she can do this. She just has to be strong like he's teaching her to be.]