WHO: Jebediah Hopkins and Chesa Navarro WHEN: After close on September 24 WHERE: Grandma's kitchen SUMMARY: Chesa's had a week and she needs someone with 100+ years of wisdom to talk to about it. WARNINGS: None BINGO PROMPT: "I want your dreary Tuesdays Mondays" Â
It was late. Not so late to be too out of the ordinary, but late enough that the other employees that helped close down the diner that Chesa had somehow turned into a second home had dispersed. The hour didn't actually phase her anymore; if it weren't for her phone readily telling her the time, she would never really know just how late at night (or early in the morning) it ever actually was. Still, she knew that she was unique in her current predicament, so Chesa tried to make herself useful on the nights that they didn't have a planned date that had called for delegation of employees to close Grandma's down.
Normally when Chesa helped with washing dishes -- sitting herself on the counter with a towel and dutifully drying each dish that Jeb handed her, then making a careful pile next to her to be put away -- she was full of easy smiles and teasing. Tonight, though, she had been quiet, a bit more subdued than usual. She had been responsive and contributed to their conversation, but there was no missing that she wasn't her normal self as her mind kept going back to the two people she couldn't stop worrying herself over: her sister and Zeke.
Chesa had done wrong by them both in very different ways. With her sister, she had hurt her and made her feel as though she'd left her behind -- at least, that was what Chesa was assuming of the situation. She had gone to college in 2008 and then didn't return to Dunhaven for almost eleven years, save holidays and the occasional weekend visit. She had noticed that things were different between herself and Halie when she'd moved back to the farmhouse, but she had assumed it had just been because time had passed and they were different people. Surely, she had thought, as they got to know one another now, they would fall back into that comfortable relationship she'd always held with her sister. Now, though, she knew it was deeper than that. Chesa didn't know when there had been that shift, didn't know what moment had severed that bond between the two of them. That, she suspected, was where the problem was.
And then Zeke. Chesa knew she should have told him the truth behind Nova long before now, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to do it. She had been afraid of his reaction and whether or not he'd see Nova's betrayal as her own. Now, she supposed, she'd made that betrayal one and the same all on her own.
It made her wonder if maybe she was more like Nova than she'd ever thought, completely discounting their oddly similar childhood traumas. There was good in the girl, but that didn't discount the bad that she did. It didn't automatically wash away the decisions she made. And while Chesa liked to think she was a good person, she had hurt two people that she cared about. It had been her decisions and actions that had made any of this happen. Did that make her any better?
Setting a bowl on the stack next to her, Chesa turned and looked at Jeb. Though it wasn't really connected to anything they had been talking about before she'd grown quiet, she asked, "Do you think there's a reason that we're all dreaming of the specific people we're dreaming of?"
Jeb knew that there was something going on between Chesa and her sister, and assumed that her subdued demeanor was likely to be credited to that particular worry. He was not a particularly pushy type, but he'd never had to be. Though he'd been required to grow up rather quickly what with taking on custody of Cerys at a young age, their relationship with one another had been fairly easy. When there were problems, they discussed them. She had told him anything truly important with little prompting, but he'd almost always been willing to wait until she was ready to do so.
He'd been trying to distract her with his conversation. The discussion hadn't been a particularly important one, so when she asked him another question that was important, he was not upset to let the previous topic fade to the background. He had been about to rinse another bowl, but he let it disappear into the suds of the water and leaned his hip against the damp edge of the sink, wanting to give this his full attention, "Maybe," he answered after a moment, though he paused before he elaborated.
"I've thought about that quite a lot with Steve. I know a lot of people have very...similar lives to those that they dream about...almost like history on repeat. I...don't have that, for the most part. I was never a sickly child. I'm certainly not a soldier, and I don't have superhuman abilities. But I like to think that I maintain his sense of integrity and loyalty, at least. I don't really know if...we have lessons to learn from them, but I feel like it also can't just be random. Do you have any theories on it?"
Chesa listened as Jeb spoke, turning from her perch on the counter and letting the towel she had been using rest draped over the stack of plates next to her. Her expression grew thoughtful as she considered his words. She'd had no real expectations over what his answer might have been and had been genuinely curious as to where his feelings might lie. As it turned out, there weren't too far off from her own. Whether or not that was a comfort, Chesa wasn't sure.
"Maybe," Chesa started, her hands finding one another in her lap. She looked down, watching as her fingers idly worked against one another. "I guess you could count me as having a similar life to mine, at least in some ways. Nova and I went through similar experiences in our early childhood. Lost our parents young, taken in by our uncle. The worlds themselves were different, but it feels like we had that same foundation and maybe it's, I don't know... leading to us to have other similarities." Shaking her head, she looked up to Jeb. "It just feels uncanny, but I don't know what the purpose is, other than serve as a reminder of everything I'm...lacking, I guess."
Chesa wasn't sure if any of this was something she ought to say or admit to the man she'd only been dating a short while, but somehow it felt easy with him. Talking about her feelings wasn't something that would ever come easy to her. She wanted to be able to talk about them with him, though.
He listened intently to what she was saying, watching as she stared at her own fidgeting hands. This conversation - the thoughts that she was now voicing to life - was obviously one that had been weighing on her. The things that he knew about her dream life did not add up to a lot. He knew that the name of the girl was Nova, and that she didn't sleep in the same way that had now plagued Chesa for quite some time. She had some kind of superpower, and a difficult start at life. He knew that Chesa didn't want to be like her, and that Nova was morally grey. He knew that Nova had lied to important people in her life, and that Chesa hadn't wanted to hurt people in Dunhaven that had known her in that alternate reality.
Her conclusion was a somber one. He stepped closer, reaching out to take both of her hands in his own. He knew a lot about loss and betrayal. He knew about personal sacrifice. He supposed those were the things that linked him most closely to Steve. They'd both lost family, and given everything of themselves to someone else...or a higher cause, "You, Chesa Navarro, are not lacking." He was, perhaps, biased, but he felt that it was important to start with the rejection of that notion, "You are smart, compassionate, resilient, funny, and a thousand other great things. Even if you're dreaming about Nova, you did not make her decisions. I know...that sometimes doesn't make it feel like less of your responsibility, but you're so much more than your dreams, Chesa. I don't know that any of us knows the purpose of them, really, but I can't believe they're just there to highlight the parts of ourselves that we would like to change. That would just be a cosmically unfair punishment."
Chesa swallowed hard, past the lump in her throat that seemed to grow with every affirming word of Jeb's. She wanted to believe him and she did, in some ways. Had it been a week ago, she'd have probably agreed with all of it, but after too many days living in her own head after she spoke with Halie and then the conversation with Zeke and Isaiah, she wasn't entirely convinced that she deserved all of his kind words.
Forcing herself to look up from where his hands now clasped her own, Chesa met Jeb's gaze. "I know you're right," she admitted. "I'd probably say the same to anyone else, if they felt the way I did. But..." She hesitated, eyes dropping again, this time to just land on nothing in particular over his shoulder. "I just feel like neither of us seems to be able to do the right thing or make the right decisions and it's so frustrating that I need to live through the consequences of those choices twice." She shook her head once before barreling on, still not meeting his eye. "It has nothing to do with Nova in specific, but I should have known something was wrong with Halie, long before I moved back home. But I was a selfish 20-something and was too caught up in myself to notice that something had changed with her and I should have been here for her, not off on my own. We're all that we had, but I was too busy in Richmond to just pick up the damn phone and now I think it's too late. She doesn't even want to talk to me anymore and I -- "
Her words broke off, each one having come a little faster than the first before her voice cracked. They were all thoughts that she had been plagued with since she'd tried talking to Halie, sleep not even an option to get some sort of reprieve from them. Once she let herself voice them, it had felt like she'd never be able to stop; at least, not until the emotions became just overwhelming enough. She hadn't even gotten to Zeke.
Chesa bowed her head, taking one of her hands from his to brace against her face while the fingers of the other tightened around his. "I'm sorry," she said weakly. "It's just been a long handful of days."
She only met his gaze for a few moments before it seemed to be too much for her. He wasn't upset by that, but it did make his worry for her deepen. Perhaps they hadn't been dating for a long time, but they had been getting to know one another slowly for months now. He had cared about her for longer than the length of their relationship might otherwise dictate. Even if the dreams were not the whole of the issue here, he did feel as though she were being harsh on herself. That was not an uncommon reaction, but as he listened, his heart broke for her.
He squeezed her hand tightly just a moment before he let go, only so that he could wrap both of his arms around her and step closer, pulling her into his chest. Her elevated spot on the counter didn't pose a problem with his towering height. For a moment, he said nothing. He just held her, trying to impart some measure of strength and comfort to her.
When he finally did speak, his words were soft, though sincere, "You cannot take all the blame onto yourself for not knowing that something was wrong with your sister. You can still do something about it now, though. It's never too late, Ches. Put yourself out there to her. Tell her that you're sorry you weren't there before, but you're here now and want to help. Maybe it will take some time, but putting your cards out on the table might encourage her to come around. Be there, and be persistent about it. It's not hopeless, OK?" Steve's loss of Bucky, and then trying to recover his best friend from years of brainwashing wasn't the same by a long shot, but he knew what it was to feel that you'd lost someone...to mourn that, and wonder if anything could be done. He didn't know Chesa's sister at all, but he believed there was still a chance for them.
After a moment, he added, "You never need to apologize to me for having a rough day, or expressing your feelings."
Perhaps it was silly for her to not have, but Chesa wasn't expecting the hug until she was engulfed in Jeb's arms. Her eyes immediately closed as she leaned into his chest, the tension that she had been carrying in her shoulders loosening as she sunk into him and allowed her own arms to loop around him to complete the embrace. It was a comfort that she had desperately needed, even if she hadn't realized it until the moment she was given it freely. It was a reminder that even if she didn't always make the right decisions and even if there were more people upset with her than she was used to, there were still others that cared about her.
And while Chesa didn't particularly need a reminder that Jeb was one of those people, it was nevertheless nice to get.
She listened as he spoke, taking in even more kind words and solid advice. He was right and she knew it. Though she'd been wallowing pretty heavily in her own self pity the entire week and it was hard to throw that off, they were thoughts that she'd considered before talking to him, but she hadn't really let sink in. Not moving from where she leaned into him, she said, "I know you're right. I don't want to lose her and she's worth me pushing, for both our sakes."
He was relieved when he felt her sink into him, giving into that embrace. It assured him that it was a welcome one, at least. He went so far as to drop a kiss to her hair, not loosening his arms from around her because it seemed that she needed him to hold on tightly. She could stay in the shelter of his embrace for as long as she needed it.
"She absolutely is worth it. Even if pushing now feels late, it's better than giving in. Even if she pushes back, maybe letting her know you're trying will give her reason to let you in over time," he theorized. He wasn't sure if he was right or not, but he hoped that he was. Trying to help lighten her heart just a little bit, he added, "Between Steve and me, we're working with over a hundred and thirty years of life experience, so not to brag or anything, but I'm pretty wise."
Despite herself, Chesa found herself smiling at Jeb's joke, grateful for the dose of levity. Though they had only been dating a handful of weeks, he'd long since been someone that she'd felt comfortable turning to when things in her life were a little less than easy. After spending too much of her life keeping her emotions bottled up or hidden, so people either couldn't judge her or just know beyond the surface that she wanted to show, it felt freeing to have found someone that it was so incredibly easy to be herself around.
Chesa pulled away from Jeb, staying close enough so her arms could still loop around him, but far enough back so she could look up at his face, that little smile still on her lips. "I hate to say it," she said, her voice teasing, "but you're robbing the cradle. Even with Nova's experience added to my own, I'm only 45."
As she leaned back, he was glad to see even a glimmer of a smile. He would take that as a victory, even if there were still problems to be solved. He wanted to help her work through them, but if he could lighten her heart a little in the process he would do so, even if it was at his own expense.
Jeb made a show of throwing his head back as though she'd just gravely injured him, "Say it isn't so!" He was grinning when he looked back down at her, "If I want to be really fair to myself, I could cut out the years where he was a Cap-sicle, frozen in the ice. That puts me somewhere in my mid-sixties probably, but it's at least a little better than being over a hundred." His lips lifted at the edges as he looked down at her and he offered, "Age is just a number, right?" In reality, he was only a few years older than Chesa, and the difference was mostly negligible.
"Nope, it's too late," Chesa replied, her smile widening into a grin that was more like the ones she would normally give him. "You're over a hundred and thirty. No changing it now."
Chesa let her arms loosen around Jeb, but she didn't pull away, instead lifting her hands so one could rest on either side of his jaw. Her thumbs made one gentle sweep across his cheeks as she held his face before she voiced her thoughts from a few moments before. "I haven't always found it easy to talk to people about these sorts of things, but it's easy with you. So, thank you -- for listening."
"Fine," Jeb gave an overly dramatic sigh as though accepting defeat, though he couldn't really complain as he'd been the one to bring up the combined age of wisdom in the first place. He couldn't really control the fact that Steve was technically quite old.
Even as she lifted her hands to his face, his stayed at her waist. These little points of connection were simple, yet more intimate than they may have seemed on the surface. Neither of them had been prone to letting others close. For years, Jeb had kept everyone except Cerys at arm's length. A lot of people knew him without really knowing anything significant at all, "You're welcome. I'm here to listen and be a sounding board for whatever you need to vent about, but I'm going to be an unfailingly supportive sounding board."
Chesa had to smile at that, small and appreciative as she looked up to Jeb. It was much easier to look at him now than it had only moments ago. Nothing had necessarily been fixed -- she would still have to work on repairing her relationship with her sister in whatever way she was able, she was still going to be plagued with memories of Nova and having to stomach the repercussions of her actions, she would need to reach out to Zeke again once she thought he'd had time to process -- but it felt as though the weight pressing down onto her shoulders the last week or so had lightened, at least a little.
"I'm trying to find a way to complain about unfailingly supportive, but I'm coming up short," Chesa said, her hands dropping to his shoulders before snaking their way behind his neck to meet there. "In fact, I would go so far as to say that it sounds pretty great."