InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "You are getting sleepy....."

I said a thing when I shouldn't of said a thing and I got in trouble for the thing.

Hamish had no idea what the "thing" was, but he guessed it was ultimately irrelevant. Meaghan was going to sit, she lashed out at the reserve keeper, who happened to be Ainsley. And if that had been since Tuesday, or at least that's when Dunbar had been talking to her, he wondered how things had gone since.

He had a guess at least.

Not having heard much back from Dun yet since the Seer, Hamish didn't plan on bringing that up either. Instead, he just wanted to fly, and see where she was at.

He was waiting when she arrived at the pitch, and like with Lex and then Maggie previously, he had little interest in remaining there, but he would if she wanted. But first…

Hamish walked up to Meaghan silently, and then immediately pulled her into a hug, holding her out in the middle of the pitch with nothing but the cold and stars for company.

"Hey," he said finally.

Meaghan mumbled something unintelligible, her face buried in his shoulder not because it had to be (he was only about as tall as her anyway) but because she was tired and miserable and wanted a good excuse to mumble unintelligibly instead of talking. She had a feeling there was going to be enough of the talking soon enough. There always was, and the last week'd been a damn good proof of it.

She didn't move away, though her broom was in one hand and a bag of bread in the other. That was how he'd got her so easy, not that she'd've fought him anyway. She didn't let go either, just leaned in and brought her elbows more together to hug him back best she could.

When Hamish did pull back, he noted how tired she really looked, and probably could have hugged her again except he'd spotted the bag in her hand. "Hungry?" he asked curiously, not even thinking about the ducks. It was late, after all, and he'd spent almost all day flying already. Not that he was going to complain. His only regret was that he couldn't be out there on one of the A&K brooms, so instead he had the Firebolt.

Meaghan lifted the bag. "For luck," she said. It was her tradition every time Portree played at Rannoch, she always spent time at the pond. A long time, sometimes, depending on how worried she was.

Prides had been there on Friday, but she hadn't.

"Flying can wait a bit right?" The McDucks were always there, that was the point of keeping the pond charmed to stay warm and springy year round. She was sure they were cared for and wouldn't starve. But she hadn't got to see them or do her pregame ritual, and she needed it even if they didn't.

"Yeah, of course," Hamish answered easily. He was there for her more than flying so if she wanted to feed the ducks, he was alright with that, and let her lead the way.

They made their way to the pond, and Meaghan sat on the small grassy area extending from the water before laying her broom gently down out of harm's way and opening up her bag. The ducks obviously hadn't expected company tonight but she thought they recognized her.

Or maybe just what she was carrying.

"Smart buggers, yeah?" she said after throwing a handful of generously torn crumbs out onto the glassy surface of the water. She offered the bag to Hamish.

Hamish followed suit, dropping off his broom then joining her on the grass. He took the offered bag from her, grabbing his own handful and waiting for a moment before sending the crumbs to rain down on the ducks, watching in amusement as they turned their attention to the new food arriving, and then back to the old.

Unaware of her pregame ritual, he wasn't sure what had brought on this part of the trip even if feeding ducks this late at night was rather unexpectedly soothing. After a bit, he nudged her gently with his elbow and asked, "What's on your mind?"

Meaghan didn't answer immediately. The ducks were big and healthy, maybe on the chubby side (what'd chubby look like for ducks?) but obviously weren't going hungry without her. Their quacking was just kind of casually greedy, like they wanted the bread but wouldn't fight for it too hard. "D'you ever do this as a kid, when your folks were playin'?"

"You mean did I feed the ducks?" Hamish asked, trying to think back. "We weren't always at the matches. Stayed a lot with my grandparents when they didn't wanna go to the the match I guess. But I think mostly we were in the box, either watching or entertaining ourselves."
He loved the game, but as a kid it was so commonplace to him that he couldn't remember it being a huge focus. "Maybe? What I really remember is there were bags of snacks each match, and they got less exciting the longer that match went on."

He gave her an apologetic shrug.

Meaghan tried to imagine being able to go to matches, but not always going. And getting to go enough that it wasn't that big a deal and you couldn't remember that well. Or your parents playing (or your kids, for the grands) and not wanting to see.

She wasn't ever gonna have kids but if she would have, they'd've gone to matches all the time, especially to Rannoch. And they'd've fed the ducks every time they were at Rannoch, and when they played Quid ('cause of course they would) she'd've gone to see them every time and would've fed the ducks for them then too, and maybe it'd've made up for all the other shit she'd've put 'em through.

"Fun for kids, I reckon," she said, throwing out some more crumbs. "Long as they ain't scared of ducks anyways."

"What kinda kid is scared of ducks?" Hamish asked, glancing at her, amused. "Or are you trying to tell me you were, so you avoided them when you came here as a kid?"

"Didn't come," Meaghan said. "And I dunno what kids're scared of, kids're weird. And all ickle and shit so could be scared of anything."

"Your mum didn't drag you to Pride matches when you were a kid?" Hamish asked, somewhat surprised. Given who her mum was and all.

Meaghan shifted and looked up and away -- from the pond, from the ducks, from Hamish. "Was a war on," she said a little defensively. She knew that was why because everything'd changed when it ended. But it obviously hadn't stopped everyone. She didn't really know why it'd had to be different for her.

"Yeah, that's fair," Hamish replied, feeling slightly foolish. "Sorry. Didn't think of that." He glanced at the bag in her hand. "Is that empty yet?"

Meaghan relaxed and glanced back at him from the corner of her eye. "Not quite. Why, you scared of ducks?"

He grinned and took the bag from her, getting a small handful of crumbs but leaving her the rest. Flinging those out, he mentioned, "Maybe that's why I don't remember if I did this as a kid. Was traumatic."

"Blocked it all out," Meaghan agreed, throwing another handful. "Worst day of your ickle life." There was only one more big handful left, or two littles, so she gathered it all up in one, trying not to let the crumbs spill out. The ducks quacked steadily away, unaware they were about to hit the motherlode, and she threw the whole handful as hard and far into the pond as she could.

The bread hit the water, and the ducks went after it with slightly more energy than before. Slightly.

"Not too fussed are they?" she said.

"We've spoiled them," Hamish confirmed, watching the ducks go after the rest of the bread crumbs. They were clearly well-fed and used to having their food provided for them.

Leaning into Meaghan and bumping his shoulder against hers, he asked, "So how about we go flying now? Before my fear of ducks returns to haunt me and I don't remember anything about today?"

Meaghan rested her head against Hamish's for a moment. "Yeah," she said, and got up before she could get too comfortable. Grabbing her broom on the way up, she added, "If I'd of come as a kid we'd of met younger."

"Wish we would've," Hamish replied, standing up as well. "Could've been feeding the ducks all this time. You're not playing here against the Tornados are you? Still, we could go to that match together? Make up for lost time?"

Meaghan paused, giving him an oddly stricken look. She wasn't playing at all against the Tornados, unless Galbraith had some kinda freak accident, and even then they'd probably find a way to sub someone else to spite her.

And she wasn't the team. Obviously. No matter what they'd said all along about McCormack equals Pride or whatever. So nothing changed that it wouldn't be her up there at the hoops, defending their record and their reputation.

"Manchester," she said in a tight, troubled voice, and hoisted her broom, heading for the uncovered part of the stadium to avoid answering the other question, pushing it away as she kicked off the ground. She'd known there was gonna be talking but she hadn't expected that one and for a moment it shook her.

"Alright," Hamish said easily, catching how quickly Meaghan reacted to that suggestion. He wasn't sure what her expression even meant but he let the matter drop. For the moment.

Instead he retrieved his broom then kicked off from the ground, chasing after her as they circled the stadium a couple of times. Halfway through their third loop he caught up beside her and asked, "Wanna fly the moor?" Because stadiums were fun and all, but he'd be testing in them for weeks to come. Tonight? There was nothing but a crescent moon and stars to light their way, and between them they could probably both use the open space that would allow them to fly aimlessly for a while.

The high air was smooth and clean as cold water, and Meaghan felt like she could breathe better than she'd done all day. Better than on the ground, with everyone's shared air. Better than in practice, which had been more stifling than an outdoors practice had any right to be.

This was more flying than she'd've got in the match, too, and definitely more of the stadium than she usually got to see. She loved Keeping, but you sure didn't get to move round a lot.

"Yeah!" she laughed, her eyes bright with flight. They didn't get to do that much, and it was a perfect night for it: just enough light to see, but not so much you'd be seen, and not like anyone'd be around the moor now besides.

Hamish didn't say anything in response, but he did flash her a grin seeing as how her mood seemed to have instantly lightened. He led the way out of the stadium and into the moor, flying a familiar course that kept them undercover but still left the path illuminated.

He may have brought her out here cause he thought she needed it, but the truth was he did too. Otherwise he'd have just grabbed one of the brooms Jamie had brought him and spent the night testing, if his mind hadn't been so bloody crowded.

Weaving through trees (though not nearly as harrowing a course as at Exmoor) he relaxed as he flew, grateful that things seemed to be close to normal again with Maggie. The same couldn't be said with Lex, and then there was an entire movement going on with Uplift. He snuck a glance at Meaghan, wondering what she actually thought of everything turning pink, aside from the little Dun had told him.

It seemed like everything was converging on him at once and so this trip was more of a necessity than anything. And then there was Meaghan. He hadn't pressed her when that look had crossed her face but it was clear he'd caught her by surprise when he'd asked about the Tutshill match. He just wasn't sure why. How many years had it been since she'd started visiting him when he was working at pubs, pestering him for free drinks? (Like he wouldn't have just slid them over anyway.)

Sometimes he still couldn't get a read on her.

But he didn't say anything as they flew, didn't try shouting over the wind. There wasn't any reason they couldn't just enjoy themselves for a while. And after a bit, he managed to stop thinking about everything and found himself relaxing into the moment.

There were loads of things Meaghan loved, but there was nothing as everything as flying. Nothing as exhilarating, nothing as freeing. And yet it was also something that she had so much more control over than most things, but it was easy along with that, so easy that it just served to emphasize what she'd known all her life: this was what she was meant for. This was why she was born.

As they wove through the trees her breathing quickened and steadied, quickened and steadied: it was a joy, but a familiar one. She'd flown through the trees a lot as a kid, stuck at home with a brother and a broom and not much else to do. She didn't need much of that in matches, apart from dodging, hadn't needed it much at all since her mum had switched her training from chaser to keeper. But it filled her need to move in a beautiful rhythmic way.

Flying one-on-one like this had always felt very intimate to Meaghan. Not like sex, which made you focus in. It was that shining feeling, like your heart and mind were bursting out in all directions. It made you feel possible like nothing off a broom ever quite managed.

By the time they came back to the pitch again, well over an hour had gone by and not a word had been said between them. It hadn't been needed, as they'd taken turns leading and changing directions, both familiar with how thrilling and therapeutic and necessary flying was. Even as Hamish landed he was hesitant to break the silence, waiting for her to touch down beside him.

Finally, when she was on the ground, he turned to her and asked simply, "Alright?"

Meaghan wanted to fling her arms in the air, to bow, and to throw herself on the ground to feel the Earth tilt around her, all at the same time. That had been needed, so badly needed she didn't even know. "Alright," she agreed with a satisfied sigh. "You?"

"Yeah," he said, still beaming. "Thanks for wanting to fly with me. And tonight at that."

He hesitated a moment before asking, "So if I don't see you before, we're definitely going to the Tutshill match, yeah?"

Meaghan's face dimmed noticeably and took on a certain et tu, Brute? quality. "I can't," she said reproachfully. Why couldn't you just not answer and people got the hint, anyway?

"Why not?" he asked, looking at her curiously. "You're just benched, not suspended or anything. So you should be there, backing up your team, even if you're not playing."

Because the Pride was her team. He couldn't imagine her leaving or fathom her playing for anyone else. "I'd be there with you," he added, nudging Meaghan gently with his elbow. "I mean what better company you got?"

"Only place I should be is the hoops," Meaghan snapped, good mood vanishing in an instant. She shut her mouth and her eyes, covering her face with one hand. "Why does everyone keep expectin'?" she asked the universe in a strained voice. "Stop with all the shoulds and the needs, don't you lot fuckin' know who you're shooting 'em at?"

"Meaghan?" Hamish asked, hesitating only a moment before he reached for her, letting his broom drop to the ground as he pulled her firmly into his arms. The dramatic shift in the evening's tone confused him and left him wondering how he'd managed that with just the mention of a match. Those questions lingered, however, as he was more focused on reigning in her anger and mistrust before they got out of hand. Not that he couldn't handle her angry, or rather not that he was afraid of her anger, but the violent shift upset him in that he'd upset her so unexpectedly.

Finally he asked quietly, "What's going on?"

She didn't lean in as easily this time. Her body was bristling with too much hurt and frustration to be restful. But she let her broom fall without thinking and her arms were tight around him, hands bunching up the back of his jacket.

"They just keep wantin' and won't let me be," Meaghan said. "They won't it let it be how I am and how it was and that's all I can. I dunno why everyone's left." Her voice took on a note of desperation. "But it ain't my fault so why've I gotta fix it for 'em? It's not my responsibility and nowt should be anyways."

Unwilling to let go, Hamish worked to untangle the knotted mess of words Meaghan had just given him that probably had clear meaning to her, but he was less familiar with her day to day life. Her frustration was almost palpable, and the strain in her voice hinted at exhaustion.

"Hey," he said quietly. "You don't have to be anyone but yourself around me. No pressure, yeah?" He let those words settle for the moment, trying to decipher the rest.

Meaghan laughed, and for a moment she relaxed. But then she tensed up again, squeezing Hamish. "Me was good enough for them before too," she said, glaring angry tears over his shoulder. "I dunno why it can't be anymore." They hadn't even warned her. It was just all of a sudden one day, guess what you're totally wrong.

"Why do you say that you're not anymore?" he asked her, responding in kind by tightening his hold on her. He was trying to sort out what it was she meant, one step at a time, almost like playing in a game of chess but he had far more patience for her.

And it was clear that she was hurting, that something had rattled her, because this wasn't the carefree friend he'd had for years. She wasn't just shaking his questions off and dismissing them, telling him not to worry. Which was worrying in and of itself.

"They're just…" Meaghan struggled to remember specifics. There was so much of it all, and it just kept piling up so it was hard to separate. "S'like they want me to be all tired like Ellie now, like old almost. Just 'cause she," but she couldn't tell him what was up with Ellie, that she'd broke her brain somehow. She was right, Meaghan wouldn't do that to her -- and she'd got benched for it last time anyways so she doubly couldn't. "She's all… it's like she ain't her anymore and she's tryin' to make me like it too. Like I gotta get squashed down 'cause she is, but I ain't… got her reasons to be."

She couldn't help but think of how it'd been at the start of the season. It wasn't easy with an all-new set of chasers and an all-new coach, but Ellie'd blown in all dragonfire and piss and vinegar and it was such a difference from Bart, dadding all over the place and trying to tell Meaghan what to do like she hadn't been doing it all already. She'd acted like Meaghan already knew what she was about and that was all they needed her to do. She'd trusted Meaghan, and Meaghan didn't think she did anymore but that didn't stop her asking more and more anyway, like Meaghan needed to prove something now.

If his parents hadn't returned home from their sailing trip, what Meaghan was telling him would have made little sense to Hamish. But something had taken Ellie away from the team and brought Bart back then caused him to stick around. Hamish didn't really know what, and the description he was getting now wasn't enough to fill him in.

But he understood enough. Releasing her at last, Hamish met her eyes and then nodded toward the ground, taking a seat himself out there in the middle of the pitch. "Yeah I may have teased you about it but you're not that old," he offered. "Things've been different this year though."

Meaghan felt like gravity was pulling her down faster than normal as she sat beside him, like she'd knock him over if she leaned. "Dead brill at first," she said wistfully. "Then all the…" she waved her hand. It was a totally inadequate substitute for everyone leaving me one by one like we're cursed. "Y'know. But it was good. It was workin' then it all flipped 'round."

And now? Now Meaghan didn't even know half her team, not like she should or like she was used to. And maybe the McGs were right and their back line was weak too but more important, they weren't hers. She didn't know whose they were even. Loads of different people's maybe. But that wasn't a team.

"So the team's different, the year's different, the coaching situation is… what it is. And everything's gotten political and somehow you're supposed to take up more responsibility but that's not what you're here for?" Hamish asked, trying to sound off what he was hearing. Trying. He really didn't know enough about Ellie to figure that bit out, but maybe he had the gist.

Meaghan frowned. On one hand, it was a relief to have someone actually hear her, on the other? There was no feeling in all that, and it was all feeling, dammit. "Yeah," she said reluctantly. "But it's worse than all that makes it sound."

It didn't occur to her that she'd never actually mentioned things getting political.

"Well sure," Hamish said. "You've put your heart into this team, so all the upheaval…"

His voice trailed off. "What do you want, Meaghan?" he asked her quietly, not even sure what prompted the question.

"I just wanna play," she said, wearily frustrated. "I just… wanna play and have it be normal and not have to think about… nowt else. I want…" Meaghan ran both hands up over her hair, and down to rub her eyes. "I want it to be normal again," she whispered.

"I think it's gonna take some time before it is," Hamish replied, voice soft as he leaned into her slightly. "Or normal's changed."

But the change was the whole problem. "I don't want this normal," she said. "Shouldn't I getta choose?"

"None of us got a choice," Hamish said, the weight of that statement carried in his voice. "Not after the war," he added with a shrug, but it wasn't something that could be shrugged off. As much as he might even try, the emergence of pink everywhere was a reminder of how fucked up things had gotten. He just managed not to think about it the vast majority of the time as it seemed necessary not to. A collective effort to just keep going and return to normal.

Except it wasn't.

But she wanted it.

Meaghan leaned back against Hamish, staring sightlessly out into the night.

"You know what the important thing is?" he asked, somewhat rhetorically, nudging her. And for being rhetorical, he still gave her time to answer.

"Quid," Meaghan said, no hesitation but not a lot of enthusiasm either. That probably wasn't what he meant, but if you asked her a question she got to answer it how she liked. Anyway he could say it himself if he thought she was wrong.

"Well that too," he mused. "I was gonna say that whatever all this mess is, you happen to have me on your side, and I'm pretty brilliant," Hamish added with a smirk, attempting to lighten the mood a bit, but also meaning the first part. "You know that, yeah?"

Meaghan snorted. "You're okay I guess." But she nudged him back, trying for normal. "When you ain't wreckin' the evenin' anyways." It was only half a joke, but half was what she could muster right now.

"Speaking of wrecking evenings, so that was a no on Tutshill?" Hamish asked. "Just sayin' that it might actually help, watching your team from the stands."

He gave her a shrug and then said, "At least think about it? And we should do another lap around the moor. Make up a little for me ruining things."

Folks never did take no for a answer.

"I'll think about it," Meaghan said, rolling her eyes. She had absolutely no intention of thinking about it. She knew her mind already, what's the point in changing it? "'Nother lap, tho, damn right you owe me that one." Maybe she'd be tired at practice tomorrow, but who cared? Wasn't like she was gonna be needing full energy that much.