Not Until We Are Lost

Cavan liked and had adjusted well to the university. He'd been enrolled in classes which he went to gleefully. This was his kind of place. It was filled with new knowledge and people who also wanted to absorb it. Of course, he didn't really bond with any of them, or talk to them beyond discussing homework, but it was the idea of it all.

Better yet, Cavan hadn't seen anybody from the group at all. This began to spark ideas in his head. There were certain activities that he hadn't been able to take part in since this weird journey had started. All because of the people he was travelling with. They couldn't be allowed to know what he really was, because he was going to have to see them again. They'd never be happy about him being in the group, they might even - some of them - decide he shouldn't be alive.

He'd stayed his hand and squished his desires down.

But now?

Now there was a whole university of people for the taking, and not one familiar face among them. The itch returned quickly. Cavan thought of his trinkets and knew he needed to add to them.

He'd have to choose somebody first. His eyes always scanned all the faces around him for the perfect opportunity. Cavan wanted somebody who excited his mind, somebody who gave him goosebumps. It had been such a long time, this needed to be special. And perfect.

Cavan sat in the quad, book open in his lap, but leaning back into the grass. His eyes were on passing students.

Annabelle was not here. Even though the Doctor had told him as much, and as much as Cavan trusted the Doctor despite his oddities, maybe even because of them, he'd still gone looking. Not willing to really accept it until he saw for himself. And why did he care so much that she wasn't around? Cavan had no way of explaining it to himself. He'd never experienced anything like this before. The emotion was entirely new to him.

While he'd searched, he'd tried to determine the answer, time and time again he'd come up empty handed.

But it was true, she was nowhere.

It felt a little bit like mourning, what he did next. Something else that was wholly new for the boy. He hadn't even mourned when his father had died. Missing and mourning. What had this girl done to him?

The week following, he was more than a little bit withdrawn. He didn't go into social areas where he might be forced to speak to other people. Cavan kept to himself, taking food to his room, spending time sitting on the beach and watching the waves, but doing it on the opposite side of the island from where the people usually went. The resort staff had managed to find him some books, but they were all bodice ripping smut.

And he read them anyway.

He had tried, and failed, to procure alcohol from the bar. It seemed like the right thing to do, to sit on the beach and get drunk and mourn the loss of Annabelle. Of course, part of that couldn't be done without the booze.

Holding one of the trashy romance novels, Cavan got himself a slushy fruit concoction from the restaurant that had within it an island of plastic complete with tree, monkey, and umbrella. The glass it came in was more of a bowl. It was perfect for his plans of reading out by the water. Tucked under an arm was a bag filled with sunscreen and snacks. He knew there would be a giant umbrella and fluffy towel waiting for him because there always was.

Mouth trying to reach the straw, Cavan turned to make his way outside.

( Read more... )

There were worse places to end up, Sam decided. This world wasn't in the midst of a conflict at least. That was an improvement over the last world. Though from the rumors he'd heard, it was some of their group that had started the revolution in the first place. He just had to hope that it wasn't a regular occurrence. Dean hadn't mentioned that if it was, so Sam had to assume that they didn't have a group that raised a ruckus everywhere they went. With any luck, they'd all be a little quieter on this world.

He needed to find Dean and Jo, but he also needed to find Annabelle. He'd promised to train her and she was so young that he didn't like the idea of her wandering in a world like this without someone to watch her back. It might not have been this particular version of Sam who'd promised to help her out, but he still felt like he owed her all the same.

The day after he'd arrived in the world, Sam started out bright and early. He wasn't sure where he should be looking, so he simply went around checking all of the shops and taverns he could find. He just had to hope that they were all placed around the same little village, because he had no idea where the next settlement would be or how long it might take to get there. Never mind that he would have to find a way to borrow a horse or... something.

So he simply hoped for the best as he set off on his search.

Annabelle didn't do well with roommates, let alone roommates she didn't know. But her suitemate seemed to be a quiet guy, for the most part. That was about all she knew about him so far.

That and he kept his lights on all the time.

And Annabelle knew she was making them flicker, but she couldn't calm down fully. She thought that was reasonable; most people weren't totally calm in this situation, it was just that her lack of calm was really obvious because of her powers. It wasn't her fault.

The change of scenery was both comforting and not for Annabelle. It was less likely she'd be burned at the stake or something here, but also there was a lot more technology she could ruin and, from what she was understanding, a lot more rules in place, making breaking them more likely, which would lead to other problems with her staying calm.

It only took a day for her to seek out Sam.

The nice thing about this place, other than that it was really nice, the kind of hotel that her family put her up in when she travelled and her father wasn't in a position to stop them or complain, was that other people she knew, the other captives, or prisoners, were really easy to find. You only had to ask, or look them up. And she had a working phone.

It was easy to find Sam's room, and once she did, Annabelle knocked on the door. She realized, a little too late, that it was possible Sam wasn't feeling 100% yet after, well, after everything... but by then she'd already knocked, and she could hear him moving around inside.

It had only been a few days since the Solstice Ball, but Annabelle found that she had a free afternoon--something she rarely had as the Queen's bodyguard--and she decided today was a good day to take Sam up on his offer to help her.

She hadn't had any major incidents since zapping him at the party, but that didn't mean that Annabelle was going to wait until she made someone have an aneurysm to work on her powers. She couldn't. That would put people's lives in danger.

And there was something else, too.

Since the ball, Annabelle had seen Lasher--and more than once. She'd see him only out of the corner of her eye, and then he'd be gone, but she knew he was there. She could feel that it was him, and she thought she could smell him, too. If Lasher was paying more attention to her, Annabelle had to know how to hold her own. She had to be ready, and she did truly believe what she'd told Simon a few worlds ago--that if she became strong enough, Lasher would come for her and either try to kill her or seduce her.

She wasn't afraid of him. She was just not ready.

So since the Queen was with her physicians all afternoon for her semi-annual health check, and since she had a few other guardswomen in the room with those physicians, Annabelle was free to do as she pleased.

It didn't take much work to find the inn, though it seemed a little empty. Annabelle supposed there weren't that many day or afternoon drinkers in a place like this. When she saw a young woman behind the bar cleaning metal mugs, Annabelle smiled and got her attention.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for Sam," she said. "The innkeeper. Do you know where I can find him?"

The woman stopped cleaning the cup in her hand. She looked a little pale, and her eyes showed clear concern.

"Oh, mistress, he's not well," the girl said. Annabelle supposed 'mistress' had to do with her outfit, which, while not an out-and-out guard's uniform, did have a large pin on the front that was the Queen's seal.

"... he's not?"

Annabelle saw a shadow out of the corner of her eye but didn't turn to acknowledge it. The girl shook her blond curls. "No. I tried to fetch the physician for him but all are with the Queen today, and he wouldn't have it anyway. You might try reasoning with him, maybe he'll listen to a friend. Or Her Majesty's personal guard."

The girl told Annabelle which room was Sam's and that the key she'd put in her hand would open the door if Sam could not. With a sense of dread, Annabelle went up the stairs to the rooms and found the door.

It was locked, but Annabelle opened it.

The doors of the palace were thrown open. The grand ballroom was decked out with silver and blue decorations, crystal snowflakes hung from the ceiling and the palace entertainers played merry tunes to greet the guests. The aromas of the feast wafted out the door and down the street. The Queen herself sat at the head table with the princess at her side. The princess didn't look entirely happy at the moment, though there was speculation that she wasn't the sort to settle down and the Queen had been the one to decide that now was the time for the princess to narrow her sights to one single suitor.

Most of the kingdom turned up in their finery. From lords and ladies to peasants, all could be seen dining and drinking and after dinner, dancing.

Those that were the abductees had been invited as well. The Queen had even arranged with the aliens to keep one, should the princess decide that she fancied one of the group that had come to temporary fill the open job positions. Oh, it had taken some diplomatic posturing, but it was her hope that those from other worlds might hold her princess' attention more than those native to this one.

After dinner, the princess stood at the edge of the dance floor as a line of gentlemen were introduced to her. Those who attended had more than the princess to focus on, however. The minstrel strolled through the crowd as he played, and various other entertainers were stationed throughout the ballroom. Wine flowed generously, which resulted in some of the guests sliding towards entertainment themselves.

Annabelle blinked.

She'd been... well, she'd been sitting in her room on the ship, drawing, and now...

Now she was standing next to a woman in full, sweeping skirts, made of a rich gold tapestry-looking fabric. There were people in armor walking with them, and they made their way down the hall of what looked like a castle.

Annabelle stopped walking for a moment to take it all in, feeling her heart start to race. She clasped her hands, pleased to feel that her ring was still on her hand, though it seemed she was dressed much differently, too. She didn't have a skirt; she had pants, black ones, and tall brown boots that were very soft, and she had a fitted bodice with a white shirt underneath, with billowing sleeves. The shirt's length covered her like a short tunic. Her hair was back and it was obviously pinned and styled--she could feel the pins.

She scrambled to catch up, sure that if she didn't, something bad would happen.

"Come now," the woman in the dress said, and now Annabelle could see she wore a gold crown. "Do keep up. What good is a bodyguard if she's not beside my person?"

Annabelle felt her face get pale. All of her blood seemed to be going into those soft brown boots now.

There was still the little matter of having been kidnapped, ostensibly by aliens. Once she'd climbed back out of the languor Morpheus spun on her behalf, her mind returned back to that issue. With a more positive perspective, this time, she decided that perhaps Morpheus was right. Perhaps they really should see what these creatures were all about before charging in and demanding to be returned again.

This was certainly nothing that happened every day. Even to a deity.

Especially to deities.

In the common room, Nanshe had been watching the aliens for at least a good hour. There were some that grouped together, some that were gray, some that seemed like they might actually be walking metal, some that she caught mimicking other people in the room with them -- there were quite a few different types. None of them approached her. It was fair; she hadn't approached any of them, either.

There was a whole lot of nothing that Cavan wanted on the island. Peopled with only those who were a part of the experiment, there was no way for him to satisfy urges that had been rising to the top and threatening to boil over since before he'd met the woman back on the last planet.

He wasn't the type to take it out on animals. Animals were far better than people and made more sense in life. They didn't do it for him at all. He needed screams and pleading for mercy. He needed hands and fingers, jewelry, hair and delicately sculpted eyebrows. He needed men too masculine for their own good and women who thought that sex was a valuable item for trade.

Cavan wasn't sure that he should be around the people that he shared the island with, so he was doing his best to stay back from them. When he encountered them, he did his best to not be weird, and didn't say anything more than 'I like sleeping on the beach' to their offers of joining the camp.

It was easy enough to find food. The island was absolutely teeming with it. It was on the trees, growing on bushes, buried in the ground, running around like it'd never seen a human before, and just sitting there. Water was easy, too. There was a freshwater stream running through the island. And he had enough knowledge to capture the smaller creatures for himself. Which is what he'd done today. He was able to construct rabbit snares and find things in the ground that might have actually been potatoes. Start a fire, and get a little banquet going. The smell of the meat was good, and Cavan closed his eyes and inhaled.

It didn't take long after leaving the Doctor and the TARDIS for Annabelle to feel... something. It was weird.

It felt like a push at her brain. And Annabelle realized that if she let the push through, there was a message behind it.

He's in the park. It's down next to the lake, a few blocks from the police station. It was a woman saying this. Inside her head. Annabelle realized this had to be Phaedra. She told Cavan, and agreed to meet him after finding Simon.

He wasn't hard to find.

The park wasn't very full at this hour of the evening, probably because of the news that'd been in the paper.

Annabelle approached, intentionally cracking a twig or two under her feet, and stopped about ten feet from him. The books that The Doctor had given her were in her bag, hanging across her shoulder.

"I hear you're the man to see," she said.

The Doctor hadn't been in the diner by the time that Cavan and Annabelle had left Dean. And he hadn't been anywhere near it, either. Which meant that trying to find her any help was put off. They had to see to themselves first, since it seemed that neither of them had been left with money that actually worked.

Their choices were kind of cut down because of that. They couldn't get a hotel, and they couldn't rent a house or apartment. They'd eventually found a youth hostel type situation, which allowed them both to take rooms, without it costing them anything. They just had to lie and say they were in school. Cavan was amazed at how they didn't ask for ID or any papers that would have backed up the story. Their word was taken for what it was. They were given three meals a day and their rooms, but they had to share them with other people (of the same gender) and they had a curfew.

After they had a place secured, a roof over their heads, the next task was finding Annabelle shoes that she could walk in. Cavan did this by himself, since she was having a lot of trouble and her current shoes hurt her feet. This consisted of him taking her shoe with him and presenting it to clerks in stores and telling them to match the size. He finally found a pair of relatively flat shoes and opened a credit account with the store that was entirely too easy to open.

He spent time with Annabelle, learning about her powers and one time asked for a demonstration. When she'd moved an ash tray from one table to another in the common room, he'd sat smiling for nearly an hour. He didn't want to push her any more than that, lest somebody walk in on them, or she got too worn out and lose control. He was pretty satisfied with what he'd seen.

Since they were all settled, he decided that they needed to try to find The Doctor. He arranged to meet Annabelle at the front door of the hostel so they could start their search.

Cavan didn't particularly enjoy anything that he was hearing during the meeting. He kept thinking to himself that he could have been back home, in Portland, doing the thing that he loved best. But no, nope. He'd gotten it into his head that he needed to see mysterious happenings. He just had to fucking know what was going on.

Goddamned York.

If he hadn't gone to York, he wouldn't have gone to Electric City. He wouldn't have been abducted by aliens. He wouldn't have had to ride in the TARDIS, and he wouldn't have gotten yelled at by some projection of a girl for going into a library.

It was an irrational train of thought, especially if he took a moment to think about it. All of the stuff he'd seen and done, it was all pretty excellent. He'd had fun with the vampire. He couldn't even lie to himself about that. But right now, in this instant, waking up in some strange diner that he was sure wasn't on the same planet that they'd been on with the freaky Easter Halloween motif, right now, Cavan was cursing the world.

He squirmed a little in the booth, and realized he wasn't wearing jeans and a tshirt. Quick inspection informed him he was in a three piece number. Who had changed his clothes worried him a bit. The Doctor might not be the probing kind of alien, but nobody had promised him the others weren't. If they'd taken his clothes off, what else had they done?

Worse than that, he seemed to also now be color blind.

"Fucking. God. Fucking. Shit." His focus came to his boothmate. At least he had a familiar face with him. Though a glance around told him that everyone from the meeting had been dumped in this spot. "Hey, Dean."

Eventually, Piotr decided that enough socializing had gone on. People knew that their friends and loved ones were here with them, and that was a good thing. They could catch up further later, however. If he didn't interrupt, the meeting would go on far longer than anybody wanted it to. He'd provided some snacks, but no actual food. There would be a need for actual food at some point.

He cleared his throat to get the attention of everybody present.

"We are all here right now for the same purpose." Piotr's voice wasn't loud, but it was demanding. His accent cut through everything else easily. The edges of it were sharp, the middles heavy. He wouldn't, couldn't be ignored. "All of us were brought to this place, world or dimension, and we have all been seeking answers since we woke up. It is time to share what we have found."

He smiled a little at Mary, at Cas, then at Rob, still not giving up his position.

"I will do this in the most orderly manner that I can, so we can get the information and compare notes as needed."

Piotr turned to Castiel, who had spoken up first.

Piotr was anxious to get everything rolling. While putting the meeting off had given extra time to round up others who might need to be in on it, it meant a delay of information that he wasn't truly comfortable with. He'd managed to play it off with everybody that he'd encountered, making as if this wasn't as big a deal as it really was to him. Inside, Piotr had been twitchy. Anything could happen at any time. They were all dealing with the unknown. There were too many variables, the risk was far too high. Lingering only swayed things away from their favor.

It was very domestic, the way he readied for the guests. He didn't let Max lift a finger. It was the only way he could keep himself from stewing, really. To move, work. Put plates together. Ready beverages. Create a spread that Martha Stewart would have been proud of.

He even dressed up.

Black suit, crisp white shirt, black tie, shiny black shoes, hair combed impeccably, guns tucked away in their holsters under his arms and hidden carefully by the jacket of his expensive outfit. Not a lick of metal showing anywhere to give him away, and that was more a throwback to the long nights of watching a mark than anything else. Piotr didn't have any good reason for it now, but it felt right.

When there was nothing left to do, he leaned against the arm of the couch and worried his lip between his teeth. There wasn't a watch to check on his wrist, so he glanced every few minutes at the clock on the wall, ticking away in its hideous orange and purple motif, strange detached bunny ears the hands, a mangled face grinning behind them. It was disturbing at best, though Piotr didn't really see the image, just the minutes.

The doorbell rang and he opened it, taking up the entire doorway. He smiled at the first guests and stood aside to allow them in. He made motions toward the table of snacks and directed them toward the kitchen for drinks. Every single newcomer got the same treatment. Max still not allowed to do anything that might have taken even an iota of the control out of the Russian's hands. They weren't military people, those who were showing up, they weren't highly trained like he was, but he would be damned if he wasn't in command of everything.

There were so many faces that he didn't recognize, and still no sign of the one that he was still seeking. Rayne was not with any of the others that showed up. Piotr couldn't help the worry he felt for his charge. The strange woman who he'd met in Malden, what felt like a hundred years ago now. He didn't ask after her, knowing that if any of these people knew her, she would have been here. He'd been careful to set the time of the meeting right after sunset to accommodate her and any others that might be like her. If she was here, by some strange chance, and had not been informed of the meeting, and hadn't come looking for him, if she had, in fact, decided to keep herself secret, then she had a reason for it, and it wasn't Piotr's place to draw attention to her. The hope of that was beyond slim, however, and he knew it. She wasn't here, he just had to admit it.

He let everybody mingle for almost an hour, to make sure that all the people that had been told had a change to show up. That and it was obvious that some of them had been looking for each other for a while, and they were just now discovering one another. He couldn't bring himself to break that up. He knew how he would have felt if he'd found his friend. He wouldn't have been able to focus on anything else but making sure that she was alright.

Finally, he stood in the center of the living room, his eyes skating over the seating, knowing that there wasn't enough for everybody and regretting it, and cleared his throat to get the attention of the assembled.

"We are all here right now for the same purpose." Piotr's voice wasn't loud, but it was demanding. His accent cut through everything else easily. The edges of it were sharp, the middles heavy. He wouldn't, couldn't be ignored. "All of us were brought to this place, world or dimension, and we have all been seeking answers since we woke up. It is time to share what we have found."

He smiled a little at Mary, at Cas, then at Rob, still not giving up his position.

Annabelle blinked.

The wall in front of her wasn't the wall that'd been there when she fell asleep in the arm chair. That wall, in her dorm room, had a big poster on it. Van Gogh's Sunflowers. This wall had some strange painting of what looked like a chocolate zombie Jesus.

Not the cliche kind of zombie Jesus. Not the standard joke. No. the thing had bites out of it, and at His feet, there were.. were those vampire ducks?

She sat up straighter in the chair, looking around for a suite mate who might've picked her lock and changed stuff around on her. Nobody was here. She got her feet under her, pulled on her red cardigan, grabbed her messenger bag, and opened the door.

This was most definitely not her hallway, either.

Annabelle began to get slightly panicky. She was trying not to get upset. She knew what would happen if she did. The last thing that would help the situation of not knowing where she was would be flying objects and flickering lights. She took big, deep breaths and headed for the end of the hall, where she could see daylight. She opened the door and stepped outside.

This was not New Orleans.

The trees were wrong. There was an absence of sweetness to the air from the Bougainvillea.

Those deep breaths were getting harder.

Annabelle took her cell phone out of her bag, fumbling with it. She found the recent calls, hit DAD, and send. Nothing happened. She tried one more time.

With the phone held to her ear, she shut her eyes. She was going to have to find her way home, or at least to other people, on her own and without hurting anybody. She felt like a child for thinking that way, but it was true. She raced down the front steps of the building she'd woken up in and toward the street, phone still to her ear, looking one way and another, trying to decide which way to go.