beyondtheline | cosmic ash and blackened brain, I call you by

cosmic ash and blackened brain, I call you by - wait no don't do that

[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.]

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[Her voice finds him through the darkness and road noise, somewhere deep in what must either be state forest or undeveloped land. It's hard to know what the time period is, except there's still a road, and he'll take that stroke of good luck. Long stretches of dirt and gravel aren't easy to drive but they'd be especially hard on Chrissy, he figures.]

Yeah. I'll find us a spot.

[He slows down to be better able to turn off the road if given an opportunity, then takes the first one that looks like it's on dry land, since so much out here is swamp. The side road becomes dirt quickly, covered in pine needles and sweetgum leaves, and he eases the bike to an even slower pace. He just wants to get them far enough off the highway that they can sleep without being found.

The road, it appears, is here on dry ground because here there is a cemetery. It must be the only suitable place for miles, otherwise there would be no reason to put one all the way out here in the middle of nowhere. He stops the bike in front of a worn sign and an unkempt hedge.]

Canoe Cemetery. Huh. Who names a cemetery after a boat?

[Well, the good news is it's really quiet here. The headstones in the bike headlights are ancient. Whoever is buried here, nobody comes to visit them anymore. It's so dark, he can't get a sense for how big the place is, and he doesn't really feel up to pulling in and having a look, but he takes the bike around the outside of the hedge and parks it under a towering old tree that has done them the favor of shading out the undergrowth, leaving a soft mat of dead leaves as the only ground covering.]

You mind if we're next to a cemetery? Seems pretty out of the way.

It's really quiet here. I don't mind.

[And if there's any ghosts hiding out here, they're not showing themselves yet. Which is just fine by her, she's not really in a social mood at the moment. It's hard to get a good idea of what the cemetery looks like at night, but she doesn't mind.

All she really cares about is getting to lay down for a little while. That, and the fact that they're together. That's the most important thing to her. It's going to suck without all the blankets or fur coats they had slept on outside in the past, but she can use him for a pillow if he doesn't mind.

Her hands rub up and down her arms in the chilly night air, as she walks around beneath the tree to stretch her legs. Her outfit is cute, but not exactly meant for nighttime wear in the early spring. But again, it's fine, because if he's feeling up to it, he can curl around her and keep her warm.]

Maybe the name of the county is Canoe or something.

[She suggests as she stifles a yawn, and moves to slouch down the trunk of the tree so she's sitting on the ground. Her arms extend, making grabby hands for him so he'll come join her.]

You're sure you're okay with stopping for a while?

Canoe County? Yeah, maybe.

[He's paused to light himself a cigarette and grab the tequila out of the bag, but when he turns to see her reaching for him, he's happy to come sit down beside her. He holds the cigarette in his mouth while he uncaps the bottle, then takes it between his fingers to have a long drink before offering it to her.]

It's fine. I don't mind. Kinda think a break before New Orleans feels like a good idea anyway. Get some space between all that cosmic ash bullshit an' the next big thing. I wanna have fun there, not... Not spend the whole time still bein' mad at that asshole's bullshit fake cure. Fuckin' snake oil salesman. I shoulda known, it's all just to fuck people over for a buck.

[And if that's not the case, he's yet to see anything proving it, so guilty until proven otherwise. Fuck Zazo.]

[She's aching enough that drinking will definitely help take the edge off of that. Two big swigs later, she's passing the bottle back to him. While he's busy with that, she'll just borrow his cigarette for a minute or two.]

I was so stupid to get my hopes up the way I did. I really thought...

[Pausing, she exhales and watches a cloud of smoke float up. The cigarette is passed back to him as she takes the bottle back for another drink.]

Well, I thought I was going to lose you today. But I was still so sad when that stupid ash didn't work. You really deserve to have everything you want, you know?

[One more drink, then she hands the bottle back to him. Sighing, she leans over to rest her head against his shoulder. It's not particularly comfortable like this, but they'll lay down in a little while.]

When we get back to California, we'll really give it to him.

[He's quiet for a moment as he mulls responses over in his head, and works at his cigarette once it's back in hand. The bottle he'll just hold with his knees for now so he can put an arm around her shoulders.]

You wouldn'ta lost me. Not forever. I dunno what woulda happened if it did work, but I'd find you again. Living people see us lots of the time. I'd see you. I know I would.

[They might have been split in time, though. Maybe if it had worked, he would've been sent right back to '67, leaving her in 2004. Maybe he'd have to live the decades in between before he'd find her again. He'd be an old man. What a weird thought. Deserves a drink.]

What that place showed us, though... I dunno. That mine, them selling vide noir in the gift shop, it sure looked like Zazo's business bullshit was alive an' well, an' I dunno if that means the Enders kicked him outta California an' made him run across the country, or if it means he's got some fuckin' business empire they couldn't take down. Means in at least one version of things... Well, I dunno.

[He can't bring himself to speculate too much on the possible negatives. All possibilities are real in their own way, apparently. It has no bearing on what he'll experience from his point of view. Some realities you lose, some you win, an' you only see one at a time but the rest all happen to some other version of you, or that's how it seems to be. He'd resisted at first, but he sees it now. It makes the choices they make and the life they want to live even more important. They drive their own destinies to form a reality they want to be a part of.]

[With his arm around her, she curls her arm upward so her hand can hold his. Her thumb runs along his, and she tries to provide him some kind of comfort. It's hard to really know what he needs after how cold and angry he was earlier. He's not like that now, but she also doesn't want to press him to talk about everything yet.]

What it means is it's even more important for us to get back to your time, and your version of LA. We'll take care of him and make things right.

[She's determined. Even if she has to kill Zazo with her bare hands, she'll do it. It'll help shape their reality into a life they both deserve to live in. One where they can put things behind them and be happy, regardless of whether or not they're alive.]

We'll be happy, one way or another.

[Her head turns so she can kiss at his hand. If nothing else, he deserves to be happy.]

[She's too damn sweet, and in a moment like this where things kind of went to shit, he really needs that sweetness. He smiles at that kiss to his hand, then presses his thumb to her lips like he's returning it, but then he nudges her chin toward him and pulls the cigarette from his lips so he can kiss her properly. She tastes of tequila and smoke, just like he surely does. A comforting set of flavors.]

Oh, I'm sure we will. That's the best thing about us. We have a good time no matter where we are an' what we get up to, right?

[They'd rescued their own downer of a day by setting fire to a chunk of that town, and now they're in a quiet place that's oddly comforting, like its age brings it peace its surroundings lack.

Calls for a drink, he decides, as he knocks back another chug of tequila, then frowns. That was a lot. Goes down easy, though, so, whatever.]

[She's left pleasantly dazed as he pulls back from that kiss, and she licks at her lips to taste the tequila he left on her lips. Her fingertips touch at her bottom lip right after, and she giddily laughs as she nods in agreement.]

We always do. Even after the monsters, we had so much fun together on your birthday.

[It's almost baffling to her to realize that it wasn't very long ago at all. Only a couple of days. In some ways, it feels like it was months ago. Time has a way of bending and contorting into something else when they're together.]

And we'll have the best time ever in New Orleans. [There's a dreamy sigh as she imagines all the fun they'll have. ] I wonder what year we'll end up stopping in, though. I hope it's a good one.

[She's had just about enough of the decades past the 1980s. Terrible things always happen when they're in them.]

Find out when we get there, won't we.

[Not that he doesn't wonder, but he's excited by the surprise of it. Every mile of road has that possibility of becoming something new, something he's never seen. Now, that's true of road trips in general, and he finds himself wishing he'd done more of them, but never before would they have been like this.

With the cigarette smoked down to the nub, he snuffs it out against a root protruding from the tree, making sure it's good and dead before tossing it aside. Look, fire is cool, but not where you're hoping to get some sleep.]

What do you know about New Orleans? 'Cause all I've ever heard is it's a hell of a party, all the time. Lotsa music. Blues an' jazz, I guess.

I guess just the stuff I've seen in movies and on TV. Jazz, beignets, really fancy graveyards. Voodoo and swamps and alligators. And Mardi Gras, but I think we're a little too late for any parades where we can get beads.

[No wonder her mom thought it was evil. It sounds like a place she could easily spend a week or two and just soak everything up. They don't have that kind of time right now, but maybe if they really enjoy it they could always come back on vacation or something.

Now that his hands and mouth are totally unoccupied, she plays with his fingers with one of her hands, while the other reaches up so she can press her hand to his cheek. She guides him in for a kiss, and finds it's really hard to stop smiling.

Their day was really stressful at the mine. But moments like this help ease the upset she had been feeling.]

[He leans in, turning halfway to meet her better, and then extracts his hand from hers so he can curl it around her and hold her as reasonably close as he can manage while their lips are pressed together. That hand then strokes down her side, along her thigh and settles on her knee with a squeeze before he pulls away.]

Well, I guess I can live without parades an' beads. The rest sounds pretty damn good.

[Mostly because it sounds just exotic enough to be exciting. He's never heard of a beignet, but voodoo has him intrigued, and he still wants to see an alligator while they're out this way, because otherwise his only chances are at a zoo. And given how their last zoo encounter went... Actually, he could do that again sometime.

He chuckles to himself, then sits up and away from her a little to have one more swig of tequila. Feeling a satisfying buzz, he slumps against her lightly, a smile on his face.]

I wanna find a real good jazz band so we can dance. Hey, New Orleans sounds like a place where we'd find another cool ghost hangout. You know, like New York? But a better one. Jazz ghosts an' voodoo.

[She takes the bottle from him and has two more big swigs. Her head is really swimming after that, and she laughs as she winds up slumping over against the bed of leaves they're sitting on. The bottle gets leaned up against the tree, and she spreads out her arms and her legs as she stares up at the leaves overhead.]

There have to be other people like us there. I bet we won't even really have to look that hard.

[Yawning, she rests her arm over her eyes.]

Maybe we can find more drugs and stuff there too. I know we're almost out.

[And that's exactly why she hasn't asked him for anything, despite how tempted she is.]

[She slumps over, and he can't resist joining her. He's still carrying both guns, though, and has to remove those first if he's to have any hope of comfort. He takes his jacket off, tucks the pistols into it on the ground next to him, then sinks down onto the leaves and presses close against her side. He reaches an arm across her waist, and rests his head against her shoulder.]

Maybe. Depends on what year it is. All this does. But I'm really lookin' forward to bein' back in a big city, either way about it. This small town rural shit's kinda a drag after a while, especially where we keep windin' up in bullshit years. Better not get another one where someone tries to kick me outta a restaurant or I might have to stab some asshole in the face.

[Tequila makes him talkative even as he's feeling like he might fall asleep soon, apparently.]

[There's some shuffling, with Chrissy eventually curled up at his side, head resting on his arm. He's warm and safe, and she's perfectly content right there with him.]

If anybody tries doing that, I'll stab them myself.

[If there's one thing her new knife makes her, it's abundantly confident. It would probably be cute, if she wasn't so stab happy. In fact, she's making stabbing motions right now, even as she tries to cuddle with him.]

They'd never see it coming.

[He can't help but laugh, as he catches her wrist mid-stab and brings her hand to his mouth to kiss it.]

My baby girl, always lookin' out for me. Thanks, babe. If it gets to that an' we gotta gouge out a few eyeballs or whatever, that's just how it's gonna be. Fuckers won't learn any other way.

[But hopefully that won't be needed. There have been times and places that weren't as bad as the rest. He just wants to escape having to deal with racist bullshit for a little while, is that so much to ask for? Especially after their failure at the mines, he doesn't want to have to do anything other than have a good time. Give him at least a few days.

He tugs her against him, then, and slides a leg between hers like it will bring them even closer together to have every limb intertwined.]

I wanna look at the map when it's light out again. See how much farther it is to home.

[Oh, she's all for being as intertwined as possible. The closer she is to him, the better. Her thighs press against his leg as she contently sighs. Her hand tangles in his shirt, and she uses that hold on him to pull herself in even closer.]

I know I've said this before, but I'm really excited to get to California.

[Which is her way of saying that she's eager to get a look at the map. But that will happen later on, once the sun is up. Now though, it's dark and time for sleep. The fact he's so willing to cuddle with her before they pass out makes her blissfully happy.]

I'm ready to be home.

[It's funny how she can never have seen LA, but still thinks of it as her home too.]

You're gonna love it there. It's fun to see all this, but nothin' yet beats LA. I keep thinkin' of all the things I wanna show you. We're gonna tear up so many dance floors, too. Oh, shit-

[A stupid, alcohol-fueled idea comes to mind and he giggles, while he drags his nails up and down her back.]

Man, once we figure out the deal with Rigo or get a new drummer, you'll come to a show an' I'll jump off the stage at some point to spin you a few times before I get back up there. Goddamn. You're gonna make a lotta girls jealous, you know.

[Ohhhhh she loves the idea of that. She gasps and giggles, before she nuzzles in close enough that her mouth can work at the curve of his neck. It's a slightly awkward angle, but she makes it work.]

Damn right, I'll make all the girls jealous. They'll all want you, but all they can do is look. No touching my man.

[She can play at being possessive, but the truth is she'd probably be jealous if he ever had a wandering eye. Though she knows he has a stage persona and has to play to the crowd, she gets that. It was the same when she was cheerleading.]

I can't wait to see one of your shows. I still remember how great you were on stage back in Nashville.

[Mm, that feels nice. He can't really move his head too much in a way that'll help, but he does his best. More of that. Her muttering against his skin, acting possessive, he can't deny he likes it.

He slides his hand up under her shirt at her back, meanwhile, and continues tracing the tips of his nails lightly against her skin. She's probably still plenty bruised and sore in spots, but up along her spine seems safe enough, and down at the small of her back. Thankfully, she didn't get badly hurt there.]

It's way better with all of us. Lot more sound. We get the whole floor movin'. There's this little bar out on Sunset, the Midnight Shack. They were bookin' us a couple times a month for a while, maybe we can get another show there once we get everything figured out. Fuckin' Rigo, man.

[Honestly, it probably isn't aliens, the asshole probably just got too high and forgot where he was and walked right out of the hotel room when nobody was looking and got arrested or something stupid. Who knows. He can only guess.]

[Her back arches into his touch, as she works a hickey against his skin. Her hands creep up beneath his shirt so her fingernails can press and drag against his stomach. She makes an awfully needy little sound, her breath warm against his skin as she does. Knowing she'll easily get herself worked up if she doesn't at least pause, she leans back enough to catch her breath.]

Do you know what?

[Something dawns on her, and it makes her laugh as she rubs her fingernails against his skin.]

I think we've managed to behave ourselves for an entire day.

[She's not talking about general behaving well, obviously. They lit an entire town on fire and murdered Kip. But they've been downright chaste with one another for the first time ever.]

Hmm. Guess we have. Had too many other things goin' on. Lotta other kinds of misbehavior instead.

[Since behaving, one way or another, isn't exactly what he's all about. And certainly, part of him wants to correct the "problem" she's just identified. But he can't seem to gather up the energy, not right now, not with him all warm with tequila and worn out from the rest of the day's trials.

She, however, seems really into things. He can feel it, hear her whining against him. So, maybe he can meet her halfway, make sure she doesn't have to fall asleep all needy and neglected. As he kisses her once more, his hand withdraws from beneath her shirt and settles on her hip as instead he bends his knee to draw his leg closer against her, and rocks her hips with his hand, encouraging her to grind down against his thigh.]

I'm really kinda outta it, babe. Just so you know. Head's all funny from the booze an' everything else. But I wanna make you feel good, okay?

[Her laughter is breathless as she shakes her head. She'll still grind down against his thigh a few times, and does enjoy it when she does. But she doesn't need to do it more than that.]

I'm good, Johnnie. [She reassures him, kissing at his jaw.] We can wait until we're both more awake and not so out of it.

[One more grind against his thigh is enough to tide her over, and this time she sighs as she does.]

But there's nothing that says we can't sleep tangled up like this, right?

[Besides, they're right next to a cemetery. Fooling around out here would feel disrespectful somehow.]

'Course there isn't.

[What a funny idea. He smiles, and lets his arm drift from her hip to just flop around her waist loosely. If she's satisfied, then all right. Tomorrow, he'll make up for it. Maybe right when they wake up, with the warm Florida sun on their skin. Scare off any would-be alligator visitors with their moaning.

For now, he's content to give her one last kiss, then close his eyes and hope his dreams aren't haunted by the remains of dead stars, or whatever the fuck cosmic ash is supposed to be. He got enough of that shit in his system, all for it to do nothing. If it comes back to bite him, then fuck Zazo again, a hundred times over.]

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cosmic ash and blackened brain, I call you by - wait no don't do that

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