Obi-Wan and Yelena discuss their previous lives they remember and the state of things in Empire City and if this is reality.
Rating: Low
So many truths to share....
⚠Non-graphic references to war
Yelena wished that just once, for even twenty-four hours, she could pretend she was the most normal person in the world. No extensive assassin training. No ‘blink and five years have gone by’ incident. No dead sister who wasn’t actually a dead sister anymore, but an alive one who’s been transported to some strange migrating pocket dimension college campus thing that Yelena had found herself in too just before… this. Now that she was here, the pieces were all in place for her to play at being normal - different and totally mundane memories! Built-in associations that she remembered but didn’t understand why!
All right, so maybe it wasn’t all totally normal. But she’d been looking forward to pretending.
She hadn’t slept terribly well after realizing what might be going on with Obi-Wan, but it afforded her the chance to lay awake and scroll through Dately (which had worked like a charm and resulted in her first real date - or whatever - set up for the next night, if she didn’t count remembering the dates this alternate version of her had gone on) and try figuring out what she was going to say. Which she was no closer to knowing when she burst through the door of Obi-Wan’s shop the next morning at ten-thirty on the dot when she’d been scheduled for ten.
Immediately she held up both hands defensively, a coffee in each one and a hefty looking brown paper bag trapped between her right palm and the coffee in that hand. “I can’t be late if I brought you lunch, that is for sure the rule we agreed on.” She put both coffees and the bag down, tapping the bag with the tip of her index finger a few times before she spun on a heel to go back to the door and flip the sign from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed’. “Early lunch time. Take whichever sandwich you want and I got those salt and vinegar chips I like.” She grinned and hurled herself at her chair with enough force that she rolled out from behind the desk and halfway into the room, then spun a full turn before she stopped facing the desk.
“We have a lot to talk about, I think. The bad news is I really am a terrible person to be telling you what’s going on. The good news is that if I make everything more confusing, I think I know people who can help better than me. Okay?”
The past few days had been some of the most strange of Obi-Wan’s life. Given how he’d grown up, that really said something. He had a head full of memories of this life. The one where he’d lived with the other Jedi out in the painted desert area with their isolationism and beliefs. Where he’d learned about the Force and how to use it, trained in how to fight but also how to try to avoid one if possible. Learned of their role in the secret magical world of keeping the peace and safety of everyone if truly bad things started to happen. They were the boots on the ground as it were.
He knew that other people had grown up with parents and lived non-communally, but he hadn’t really known his parents much. They were encouraged not to visit their children, the special ones, as he’d been told, the ones who could feel the Force running through and around them all the time. It was worshiped and he thought that his world was how it should be. It had been all he’d ever known.
Going through two wars was not great, but his Master had done his best to prepare him during the first they thankfully had to do together. The second, alone, had been worse, off planet and filled with watching men he was leading die. That he was sent to live in this place, so far from the insular community of his youth, felt both a blessing and a curse. A clear reminder that he was different from many there, he’d been to space, he’d been to war, and he’d been good at it. Too good, even in his own opinion, with the people he’d lead.
Now he had his shop, and some friends, and a seat on a Magical council that had afforded him representation of his people. But also, a chance to finally talk to other magic users about their own lives. It was shocking how very different theirs had been, how formal schooling and university were part of it when he’d had formal lessons but not in the same way. That the emphasis on his training was nothing like that that was thiers.
Things hadn’t started to make sense to him, in how to put his own life back together, until he opened his repair shop. It felt good to fix things again, to work with his hands, to be reminded that he could do good with them, and help people. He’d always wanted to help people, even as a young child. And this, he could do, safely among those who had no powers at all, and with those entities that were stuck here after their time off world in various star systems. He knew how to fix a lot of different things between the practical classes, and years of on the job training as it were in battle and in quiet times of travel as well.
Taking a broken thing and giving it new life, new purpose. It felt like a metaphor he wasn’t ready to examin to closely. But he had built this strange life compared to his old, and he liked it. It felt good to be here.
Then the dreams came, and with them, he had a whole other life crammed into his mind. All these memories of living in a giant Temple on a far away planet. Of his Jedi teachings being done in such different ways with different goals with different species all around. Of being trained far more in politics and diplomacy than he had been in his own schooling. Of having hs own apprentice and again, leading a bloody stinking war. Of feeling his friends dying around him and being on another high council, but this time only of his own group. The other magic users he knew of nothing like what he’d known here.
It felt so real that he was confused why he couldn’t hear the hum of a giant starship when he woke up in the mornings, his apartment mostly quiet except for perhaps his roommate knocking around. Then he had been taken before to an alternate dimension, had learned terrible things about what had happened in his world he’d left, and what he wouldn’t be able to stop. But those memories felt even more hazy. He’d been sent home from there, and now he was here. At least the previous place, he had no prior memories of another life. He had known who he was.
Now, he was unsure who to think of himself as. Every night he had more vivid dreams and more memories. Strange had told him that he too had had this happening. Even them both meditating on it, Obi-Wan pulling out all he knew from his previous life to help focus on the Force, on the future, had not been able to see anything beyond that both lives felt real.
He wasn’t sure which he wanted to be real. There were good and bad things in both. It was a relief when Yelena had said she knew what was happening. He liked her, liked that she was so brash and bold. That she took nothing from no one, and was not raised to turn the other cheek as he had been. He liked that she’d been kind to him from the start, and also had wanted to drag him fully into this modern world even if he hadn’t been exactly prepared for it at the time.
That she rushed in thirty minutes late was nothing new, and truly, he didn’t mind. He liked having her there for the company as well as her help with his business. He had been up to his elbows in a ‘65 mustang trying to get her to purr like she should when his whirlwind friend came in. But he didn’t mind her flipping the sign to closed and he washed up so they could eat, though he’d felt little hunger the past couple days as he had worried about all that was happening.
Taking the turkey sandwich from the bag, and the plain chips, he sat down ready to listen. But first, he could feel her nerves in the Force and laid a hand gently on her arm to help her calm, giving her a tiny bit of that calm from him to her. “It will be okay, Yelena. I trust you to tell me the truth,” he could sense if she lied, but she wasn’t one to ever really lie to him, not about anything that mattered. People told small lies all the time after all, that was how society functioned. “I know you want what’s best for me, and right now knowing the truth, even if it’s painful, will be that. I’ve had to face some very hard times and truths in my time, you won’t be giving me my first.” He gave her a wry smile and took the coffee to take a sip, leaning back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, ankle to knee. Mind clear and ready to listen.
Normally - her own old normal, not this new one - Yelena would prickle at someone trying to lend her comfort or calm when she didn’t feel like she was terribly riled up in the first place. She had control of herself, she liked to think better than most people, and for someone to see even a little bit of agitation where even she didn’t perceive it was something she’d ordinarily become instantly annoyed by. Obi-Wan’s comfort and the words he paired with it, however, actually did something to soothe an irritation in her that she’d covered over so thoroughly that she didn’t even notice it until it was gone. It was nice, given that she knew how strange what she was about to say could be. And how uncomfortable it could become, if Obi-Wan took it badly. Somehow, for some reason, she thought he’d take it better than most anyone else.
She smiled her thanks at him and curled up in her own chair, wedging herself as far back as she could between the arm and the seat back so she could bring one leg up to drape over the opposite arm of the office chair and the other foot up to plant firmly on the seat. Her food was momentarily forgotten in favor of cradling her coffee cup up next to her chest, like the warmth might help her get through the whole telling of the situation. “I don’t know how painful it’s going to be, exactly. That’s some good news, right?” There was a little hope in her voice when she asked the question even though she wasn’t sure how good the news could really be. At the very least, it wasn’t inherently bad news. She sighed and took a sip from her cup, then rested it against the knee she had draped over the arm of her chair. “And I do promise it’s the truth, because you know if I was making up a story it’d be so much better than this one. So much.”
She hesitated a long moment to chew absently at the corner of her bottom lip, trying to figure out where to start. There wasn’t really a good place, all told; no clear starts, no clear stops, not much concrete delineation between where she knew she’d been a week ago versus where she’d been a couple of nights ago versus right now… especially when the ‘right now’ had its own set of memories associated with it. One muttered Russian curse and another sip of coffee later and she’d decided on a place to start. Time would tell if it was a good one.
“This is going to sound very about me for a minute so stick with me, okay? We’ve known each other for a while, right.” What could've been a question very much wasn’t, because it didn’t need to be. She didn’t even pause for more than a breath before going on, since she didn’t expect an answer. “And I remember that. All of that. But to me, in the biggest part of my brain - “ Ever prone to a little drama, she paused to tap the tip of one index finger to the center of her forehead - “All of those memories are like extra memories. Like a second life I lived but wasn’t here for because where I was, I… “ What she’d been before wasn’t important to the story, and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted him to know that. Not until he had to.
“I wasn’t the same as you know me, and that’s the me that feels more real. A few days ago I was in the Empire City of my… ah, I don’t know how to compare the two, but I know Empire City as New York City. And I was there, until suddenly I wasn’t.” Yelena wasn’t one to panic, but the more she said all of this out loud the more worry took root that she was starting to sound unwell. “For like two hours I was in a place that everyone there calls Derleth - like the college around here but not this college.” She paused, head tilted in thought for a second before she shrugged and waved a hand dismissively. “Maybe this college, I don’t know. But that weird app you have on your phone? I have it too. So I think that means you’re supposed to be from there too.”
That felt like enough for the moment. More than enough to lay on him and expect him to process. Apology written on her face, she reached for the bag with the sandwiches and pulled her own out, picking at the edges of the wrapping without actually opening them. “I know it doesn’t make sense. But maybe what I just remember from before here is the same as the dreams you have. Does that… what do you think?”
Obi-Wan had settled in his comfortable desk chair, leaning back, one leg crossed over, ankle on top of his other knee. He took a sip of his own coffee and prepared to listen to her. He took a moment to breathe out any judgement or preconceived notions, his own anxiety. It would be the truth and that was important to him, in all versions of himself it seemed. That he know what was real even if it was bad.
That she didn’t think it all bad wasn’t exactly comforting but he offered her a small smile at her offering of truth via this being a terrible lie to tell. “I know you are truthful. And while the truth may be painful or comforting, it is the most important thing to give to one another. When things are this important as I fear this may be.”
He kept his face neutral and listened both to her voice, and observed the way the Force currents went around her and what the unifying Force was telling him about what she was saying. It all felt true, and he knew she believed it. More, it matched up with what Strange had said in as many words. Though it sounded like Stephen had a longer life, many of them did in this second place.
“I have my own story to tell, that is equally as strange. If you’ll bear with me while I share.” He started instead of replying directly to what she had said. “I have three sets of memories, which, is even more confusing I can tell you.” He gave her a wry smile. “I have one set of here, where I grew up in a religious cult in the desert and learned to use the Force and then was sent here to be a representative for our group. I have memories of fighting in wars with my Master and my troops and going to space and of aliens. All of that feels real, as real as you sitting here speaking with me.” It was the most he’d ever said truthfully to her about his childhood though she had to have realized he was not like the rest of them in some ways. It would be treason to have said that much, but he had a feeling that those rules didn’t apply now.
“I also, have memories of a different life. One that feels more… full as you say. Where I was born thousands of years in the future in another star system and lived in a huge temple full of people who had similar beliefs, where I stil had the Force but it was viewed very differently. Where I was a diplomat and yet had the same Master and fought in small battles by his side, and then eventually I became a Master as well and had my own apprentice. My last memories there are of having been fighting an intergalactic war for years and being so kriffing tired of all of it. Sick of war and sick of watching my men die, sick of feeling them die and my friends being killed. It was terrible. But still there was our beliefs that comforted us. And I took more comfort in them in that life than I do here.” He was far more pious he thought there than here.
He knew she must have a thousand questions so he plowed on ahead uncharacteristically. He was more one to say a few words and stop to let her react but he knew if he didn’t get it all out at once he might clam up. “Here’s the weirdest part. I think I’ve had this happen before. The taking from one reality to another. I remember being in this place in New Zealand in a different version of this world, and that others had been taken from their homes there too. We were all thrown together and I learned of my fate and future. It was a bleak one I hoped to avert in my own time, but as they had told me would happen, I remembered none of it when i returned to my life there. I only can remember now, I think, because this is like that, some place outside of time and space. Some other place we are all being drawn to for a purpose. But not one I can see. I never saw there either.” He gave her a half smile. “I have no idea what Derleth is though. Where i was it was a city in New Zealand and was quite lovely, set in this same era with smart phones with apps like we have here.” He finally took a sip of his coffee stopping his word vomit. That had been the most he’d said all at once to her probably ever and he took a moment to exhale his nerves into the Force again. “Perhaps Derleth is where we will go after this life and time here ends? Or perhaps back to our own home worlds?” He waited to see what she would say back.
Yelena nodded emphatically when he asked if she’d bear with him, taking the opportunity to start freeing her sandwich from its wrappings. “Yeah of course,” she answered, reaching with one hand for her coffee to take a sip while the other smoothed the waxed paper out over her knee to serve as a table and crumb catcher, “This is like, totally normal water cooler talking we’re doing here. I share, you share, it’s exactly like on the television shows.” She gave him a crooked grin and a shrug before using both hands to pick up a half of her sandwich for a huge bite - even if she was inclined to interrupt, which she was going to try not to do, it’d be a minute before she finished chewing to do it. If she was going for politeness, of course.
She didn’t have any expectations of what he was about to tell her, which was good… because right from the start, when a strange situation was made immediately more strange, what he had to say was a story she never would’ve managed to so much as begin guessing at. There was very little capable of making Yelena eat slowly when she was hungry, and this managed it; normally she might’ve polished off the first half of her sandwich inside five or six heroic bites, but after the first one she practically forgot she was holding it. Even her memories of here didn’t give her much insight into Obi-Wan’s past, which was nice in its own way. That she was learning something completely new to her in every respect, at least. Less the past itself she was being told about. Much less nice, with the cult and the fighting.
By the time he was finished with the whole of it, she had her bag of chips in her lap but hadn’t opened them yet because making that much noise while also paying rapt attention to a truly mind-blowing turn of events seemed rude somehow. As soon as he took a sip of his coffee, however, she pulled the bag open at the top with a crinkle of plastic and aluminum before dipping a hand in to extract a chip. A chip which she then promptly used to point in his direction as she leaned forward in her chair in his direction. “First of all,” she began, giving the chip a shake for emphasis, “I am not going to die and go to college.” Truthfully, she hadn’t ever given much thought to what happened after she died. Not until recently. And even then she’d figured it was just a lot of nothingness.
But Natasha had definitely died and gone to college, so maybe she’d been totally wrong about a lot of things.
She heaved a sigh and flopped back into her seat again, finally crunching into the chip to buy herself some time to think about what was going to happen next. Or if anything should. After wiping her fingers off on the outside thigh of her jeans, she brought the tip of her index finger up to press between her eyes like she had a headache brewing, her eyes closed briefly. “I don’t know how you handle doing this with three sets of memories, I can’t even keep two straight. The only other thing I know is that they - “ The nebulous ‘they’, but naming Eliot and Mobius seemed useless when he probably had no reason to know who they were because she barely knew who they were - “Mean for this place to be where we all stay. The ones of us who have the network thingy on our phones.” She looked down as she tore a corner off of one of the pieces of bread on her remaining half a sandwich, then popped it into her mouth before she returned her focus upward to Obi-Wan. “So I hope you’re cool with all of this. Here you know me, so of course that’s awesome for you.” She grinned, unable to keep things serious for too terribly long, but it faded a little as she reached for her coffee again. “I don’t know what the best memories you have are. But it’s kind of nice, right? Thinking of this as kind of a new start no matter what?”
It was it’s own accomplishment to have captured Yelena’s attention so thoroughly. And to have stopped her from eating as if she might choke. Obi-Wan had always assumed she hadn’t had ready access to food when she was a child or teenager. Thankfully, that hadn’t been his problem. But he’d known of others it had been. They ate like she did, so fast, trying to avoid it being taken. He hadn’t ever mentioned it since she was kind enough not to mention his own quirks.
He laughed at dying and going to college. “I didn’t go to college in any of my sets of memories. At least, not like you’re talking about here. More that, in the other place like this I remember, that’s not like either sets of memories, sometimes people would disappear. Sent back to their own worlds and times, we thought.” At least, he really hoped so. That’s what seemed to happen to him.
Wordlessly he handed her a napkin from the stack he’d taken from the bag to put on the counter beside them. She may or may not use it, but both sets of his memories from childhood had taught him to eat politely. The ones that felt most real were full of how to display good manners in a variety of cultures and worlds even. That hadn’t happened here though. Otherwise he sipped his coffee, sandwich mostly untouched, and thought about what he’d said, and what she was saying in return. It felt…good to tell the whole truth of things in one go to someone who hadn’t known. He knew it was a punishable offense but it didn’t feel wrong. The Force itself was telling him it was good that they were talking, even, as he’d spoken. At least that’s what he believed in this life.
“Poorly, I’m handling three sets of memories rather poorly.” He gave her another wry, sad smile. “But I’m glad you seem to be handling your own memories okay?” It was a question, though he wasn’t sure she’d say if she wasn’t. She was a taciturn as he was in her own way about her past. It was something he had been able to readily identify with and not pry into.
He grinned at her saying she was awesome. He loved that about her in this set of memories. Seeing her so full of energy and self confidence. In the other lives, he had had the confidence, more than he had here where he felt so out of sync with everyone else. “I do have you in my life, and it does make it better.” He’d leaned forward a bit when he said it, making sure to put the real sincerity that he felt with those words. He was careful not to say he knew her, because she probably had some strange story of her own to reveal in time. Dimly he thought there might have been someone who looked like her in the New Zealand place, but he’d never really socialized with them. Perhaps he had missed out.
After she had a couple more chips and he’d considered more on if this was good or not, he replied. “A new start is an interesting way to look at it. Part of me finds it fascinating that I don’t feel like the same person in any of the three sets of memories. They are all a bit different, and therefore my own personality, beliefs, and mannerisms aren’t quite the same. But the core of who I am seems to be the same in all three sets. I am still not one to blab about myself a lot,” to use a word she’d taught him. “I have the Force and the training of how to fight, but in the others I also was taught so much more, history, oration, diplomacy, languages and manners for several cultures. Education in all areas and not…as enforced a separation from the world as my own people are here.” He still felt strange talking about that, it had him looking down at his sandwich that he’d nervously pulled bits of the edges of the bread off into tiny shreds during their conversation. “I’m not supposed to tell you anything about my life here, about The Force or how my sect operated. Or aliens, or space. I could get in a lot of trouble for that, which is funny because my sect is who would be tasked with punishing me.” He gave her a truly wry smile that held a bit of humor. It really was funny in one sense. “So try not to share that part, or well, maybe any of it for now. If people ask, you can say I have other memories too but keep the details out?” He knew she talked a lot, but was amazing at only revealing as much as she wanted. He trusted her to keep this secret if he asked as sincerely as he was now.
“How about you, does your memories intertwine in certain ways? Are you still your lovely bubbly self in both sets?” He smiled at her, genuinely meaning it. In this life he knew she had been a good friend and he had had few of those, true friends, in any of his lives outside of those growing up as he had. And few still even within that group. He finally picked up his sandwich to take another bite now that he’d said all of that and prepared to listen to her again, free of judgment.
Yelena took the offered napkin with a murmur of thanks, but just balled it up into her fist once it was hers to do with what she wanted. It helped a little in that whatever residual potato chip grease that was on her fingers was wiped off at that moment, but as far as using it going forward… the odds didn’t seem in its favor. Still, she held onto it like she might find some use for it going forward, so maybe his point had been silently taken after all. She knew she was capable of manners, but she also knew that she didn’t find much use for them in places where she was comfortable. And strangely enough, she was comfortable here.
For the most part she seemed content to listen. She’d been trained to, after all; as much as she tended to talk to fill in the quiet, even that was sometimes a calculated move to make herself seem nonthreatening. There wasn’t any calculation here, only genuine interest, but the solemnity to her expression - broken only by the sympathetic face she made when he confessed to handling that many memories poorly - spoke to a stillness of mind that she knew she rarely exhibited in this particular timeline. Her only verbal interruption came on the heels of him asking her to try not to share details, which she scoffed quietly at and waved a hand in dismissal of.
“Nobody I could tell would care about whether you were supposed to tell me or not - your sect really sounds like it sucks for that by the way, no offense - and you don’t have to worry about me spilling any details to anybody. It’s a lot of story to tell and none of it’s mine to try saying to anyone in the first place.” She shrugged like it was such a natural conclusion to come to that she’d wasted their time even saying it out loud, but offered him a smile and a tip of her coffee cup in a salute before she took another sip. “There are lots of people who know what’s going on better than me and if you want to talk to them, it’s easy.” She tapped the darkened screen of her phone with her fingertips, then nudged it aside as if to prove she wasn’t going to rat him out to said people. “But if you don’t want to get into it, I understand that too. If this is where I’m going to be, I kind of want to focus on figuring myself out here, you know?”
Which led nicely, in a sense, into his question about how she was in her other set of memories. The real set, to her. Less nice was the answer she knew to be true. And while she didn’t care to lie to him about anything, she also didn’t see the benefit for either of them in confessing her past if it was going to end up being left in an entirely different life. So she smiled, a little more subdued than normal, and shook her head as she fidgeted a little by breaking a couple of chips in half. “Not really. Well, I’m still pretty much the same to talk to me, it isn’t like I was a totally different person before, but these memories are… “ She hesitated a moment, nibbling the corner of one of her broken chips before she popped the whole thing in her mouth. “Easier. Things weren’t always so easy in the other memories.”
Yelena smirked and rolled her shoulders like she was shrugging off the burden of those memories, then picked up the other half of her sandwich. She was about to take another bite - a little less heroic this time, now that she’d eaten what amounted to being her breakfast - but lowered the sandwich and decided to say a little more. Because he’d shared so much, and she thought he deserved a return on the trust. “Let’s just say you had the strictness and separation here, and I had it in the other memories. So I know what it’s like, a little. Finally being free and not really knowing what to do with it.” She finally bit into her sandwich, if only to keep herself from delving too deep into the seriousness of the topic. They were at his shop, after all, and it’d be terrible business to keep it closed for hours on end.
Once she’d swallowed, she flashed him a grin, the brightness back in her expression now that the furrow between her eyebrows was gone. “So we figure it out together. Like today is weird memories day, and pastrami on rye day, and the day we find out that guy over there - “ She pointed out the front window where a man was stationed just outside the door, facing the other way while he waited patiently - “should probably get a discount because he saw us sitting right here and didn’t even knock. That’s a great customer right there.” She started to raise her arm like she was going to wipe off her mouth with her sleeve, then thought better of it and dabbed at it with her rumpled napkin instead. “I guess that should mean lunchtime over or he might start knocking and then I’ll feel less nice. Did this help or did I just make things a whole lot worse? Like no, you’re not crazy, but yes, things are totally messed up. That seems like not much help, now that I say it out loud like that.”
Her easy acceptance of his story only made him feel more at ease. He laughed when she said his sect had sucked. “They do in some ways, but they have a noble purpose. How they get there leaves a lot to be desired. But they are good people who are trying to keep the world safe from magical and alien threats. There are so many more people and beings from other worlds in my other set of memories, a much more complex system was set up. I had more socialization than here where it was me and a few others set apart to train starting as a toddler. But it wasn’t all bad, there were friends and we managed to have fun.” He grinned. “I was considered rebellious.” He knew she’d find that funny.
“Focusing on here is a good point. I think it’s better here at the moment than my memories since I was a general in a bloody, terrible war when I was pulled out here. In charge of thousands of troops and fighting sentient machines. I don’t really want to return to that all that quickly. My repair business and a few friends feels quite a lot nicer.” He thought she must have something similar as she didn’t seem to want to return to her other life either. It made sense that some of them wouldn’t. He knew that nobody at home was missing him, that he’d learned at his previous experience with this. So it helped ease any guilt at leaving his men and fellow Jedi.
He nodded at her admitting she’d had similar experiences in her other life. It didn’t surprise him. He wondered how similar it actually was and if she had powers as well? She didn’t feel like it in the Force but it wasn’t always obvious. He knew she was trustworthy and had no ill intentions towards him, and that had been enough. “I won’t hold it against you, whatever it was like if we have to leave here. As long as you can say the same?” He smiled to try to balance the dour nature of the statement out. But it was the truth. He had learned long ago not to judge until you’d truly been where a person was. In his memories, he’d deserted to follow his ideals before as a teenager, and would have left the order entirely if Satine had asked. He had thoughts about if he wanted to stay after this War was over. Now that he knew the horrors that happened after he hoped he could stop it. But if he couldn’t, he did not want to live that.
Glancing at the window, Obi-Wan was less fussed about a customer. He had enough money from his side work that it wasn’t a problem to lose some business. He had lived an austere life in both sets of memories so he had little need for many possessions. “Sure, you can let them in. Give them twenty percent off if you think that’s best. I trust you.” When he said it, he meant it in more ways than only her judgment on the customer.
“I’ll slip into the back to finish my sandwich.” Part of why she was here was to deal with the customers after all, so he didn’t have to.
He may have smiled to take the seriousness out of the promise, but she welcomed the seriousness with a wash of relief and a smile in return that expressed exactly that. She still had a lot of work to do with contending with how she felt about her life in the Red Room - whether she ought to feel sorry for some of the things she’d done while mind controlled. Whether she did feel sorry, if in fact she should be. Whether that made any difference when she’d chosen basically the same life for herself afterward, on what was ostensibly the “right” side. It was a relief she didn’t have to think about it much here. And an even bigger one that she truly didn’t think he’d judge her for it if they for some reason didn’t stay here.
“Of course I say the same. I think I’m probably the last person who should be making judgments about what other people do with their lives. I mean, nobody should with anybody, I’m thinking. They don’t know what makes people do the things they do.” As nice as it was to be assured of his lack of judgment in any timeline or space, the conversation had the real potential to get a lot more serious than she wanted to be sitting here in his shop. So the customer outside was a genuine concern, but also a terribly convenient distraction. She went about folding up what was left of her sandwich in the paper she’d laid out in her lap, then tucked it and the mostly full bag of chips back into the brown paper bag she’d brought everything in.
“Twenty percent?! This is why you need me here. Ten percent max and that’s only if he’s actually nice when I open the door and say my sorries that we were closed in the middle of morning.” At first she could feel the heaviness of the conversation lingering in her words; she was teasing the whole time, but the laughing lilt to her voice that made it obvious didn’t really get going until nearly the end. “But go on, you finish and I’ll see what he wants. Maybe he’s the guy who owns the car I poured sugar into this morning on my way here.” She hesitated for effect, but not so long that he had time to think she was serious. “I’m only kidding, I promise. But I would do that, if you wanted.” The sweet smile she flashed at him was at odds with how serious she sounded when she made the offer.
Waving him off as she got to her feet and nudged her chair back toward the desk, she called over her shoulder, “And you know I don’t believe for a second you were a rebel rebel! I thought we don't lie to each other!” She was laughing as she opened the door, the man outside starling at the sound before he spun in her direction. “Good morning sir, so sorry to keep you waiting. Breakfast staff meeting, you know? So how can we be help to you… “