Rand Blackhawk (restless_native) wrote in supernextdoor, @ 2012-05-14 12:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | 10.09.11, noriko, noriko and randall, randall |
I Must Be Dreaming
Who: Noriko and Randall
When: Sunday night
What: nightmares
Where: Noriko’s apartment
Rating: None
Noriko had been putting off going to bed. She was tired, but the knowledge that Rand was a dreamwalker, that he might end up in her dreams, was nagging at her. She hadn’t thought about it when she’d offered to look after him, and it was only when she’d said goodnight to him that she’d realised.
That had been two hours ago. She’d changed into pyjamas, brushed her teeth...and now she was reading in bed, putting off the moment when she turned off the light and fell asleep. Realising she’d read the same page three times and still had no idea what it had said, she gave up. Placing her bookmark carefully between the pages, she laid it down on her nightstand and switched off the light, snuggling down under the covers. Despite her misgivings, she was asleep within minutes, drifting off quickly. She had nightmares, often, and her last thought as she fell asleep was to hope that tonight would be an exception.
---
Noriko awoke in a room that was hers, and yet not. One wall was glass, nothing but trees visible outside, bright sunlight streaming in through the window. She slid her hand across the bed before she’d even opened her eyes, frowning when she encountered nothing but cool, crisp sheets. She sat up, looking around the room.
“Rand?” she called out, sliding out of bed. Panic rose in her throat. He wasn’t here, why wasn’t he here? She ran out of the room, into an equally empty living room, that glass wall continuing. She didn’t look outside, the back of her neck prickling with fear as she caught sight of the dark, looming trees out of the corner of her eye.
“Randall?” She searched the house, growing more and more desperate. Opening the door to Izumi’s room, she started crying when she saw the empty bed. “Izumi? Darling, where are you?” Panicking now, she spun around, running from the room. She caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye, chased it along a hallway. She could hear a child’s laughter, saw a flash of green and white as a familiar figure disappeared from view.
“NOAH!” Noriko ran after the retreating figure, tears streaming down her face. “IZUMI! COME BACK!” She could see them now, outside, walking into the forest hand in hand. Tugging at the door, she screamed their names, becoming frantic when it refused to open. She was trapped there, trapped behind glass as she watched her babies disappear from view. “No, please...”
Rand hadn’t had wandered into dreams unintentionally since he’d gotten out of rehab and really started training with his grandfather. But with the concussion and the pain keeping him from sleeping for long, his control was completely shot. He was confused for a moment at who’s dream he’d walked into. It would have to be Noriko’s, unless one of her neighbors was a regular at Mercy. His suspicions were confirmed when he heard her yelling first for him, then Izumi and finally Noah. The familiar laugh of their grandson sounded eerie and wrong and he saw her struggling with a door with as her family walked away into the woods.
He hesitated, even though it was easily within his power to alter the dream. Then he remembered the accusation Nori had flung at him when he’d revealed his gift to her. It was the least he owed her, for failing her in the past and the fact she was taking care of him now. Taking command of her dream, he inserted himself into the place of her dream version of him and the next thing Noriko would know the family was coming back towards her, Noah with a fistful of slightly mangled wildflowers, giggling and smiling. “Oba!” he cried out as she easily opened the door.
“He picked those for you,” Rand informed her as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He had a bad feeling stopping this nightmare was going to lead places he shouldn’t be going. Not until they could address everything consciously. But he was already in and pulling out now could send her spiraling into a worse nightmare. So for now, he’d run with it.
Noriko ran to them, picking up Noah in her arms and hugging him tightly, her eyes closed. “You did?” She pulled back, taking the flowers from him with a smile. “They’re beautiful, thank you.” Her eyes were still damp with tears, a little reddened, the relief clear on her face as she hugged Noah again. She pulled her daughter close, too, hugging her just as tightly.
“I was so worried,” she murmured, looking at Rand. “I woke up, and you were all gone...” She let Izumi take Noah from her, the flowers still in her hand as she walked over to Randall. She slid her arms around his waist, her cheek pressed against his chest as she hugged him tightly. “Please, don’t leave...” she whispered softly.
Oh God, he could not do this. He couldn’t do this to her or himself. Randall knew he had to tell her what he’d done, make her understand why and then offer to talk to her. Even if they had to wake up and talk in person. Just so she could be certain he wasn’t manipulating her dream and she could have her conscious mind more aware. “Nori, I’m not leaving,” he told her, wrapping his arms around her anyway. “This is a dream. I accidentally wandered into it because of the concussion. I saw you were having a nightmare, so I changed it. Like I should have done all those times. Back then I didn’t know how. I kept getting stuck in them. Living them. I should have told you back then, but I was stupid and scared and messed up. If you want to talk, really talk, just wake me up.” He didn’t let her go, or leave. He’d said he wouldn’t. But he had to make her understand this wasn’t real, so she didn’t give away anything she didn’t want to. That wasn’t fair. God knew how much she’d had to deal with him because of him was unfair. This time, he could at least even the odds for her.
Noriko relaxed as Randall’s arms went around her, her eyes closing as she pressed closer, one hand fisting in the back of his shirt. She lifted her head as he continued to speak, frowning slightly.
“What...?” She didn’t understand - she wasn’t asleep, she was standing outside her house, with Rand and...she turned around. Izumi and Noah were gone, the house too. They were in the apartment they’d shared in New York, standing in the middle of the living room. It wasn’t though, not quite. Something was off. The bookshelf was filled with blank volumes, everything slightly hazy. There was a part of Nori that knew this was a dream, even if most of her was lost in it. And if this was a dream, then that meant...Noriko pulled out of Rand’s arms, looking horrified.
“Get out,” she said, voice shaking. “Get out of my head.” She whirled around, running for the door.
---
And jerked awake, chest heaving as she gasped for breath. She sat up, dropping her head into her hands, cheeks still damp with tears, her hair sticking to her face. She was mortified that Randall had wandered into her dreams, that he’d seen exactly what she had nightmares about. God, she may has well have hung up a banner above her head, screaming ‘I’m still in love with you’. Flinging back the covers, she got out of bed, tugging on the thick grey cardigan she wore in lieu of a dressing gown. Brushing her hair back from her face, she walked down the hall towards the kitchen, wanting to make herself a cup of tea before she even thought about anything else.
She paused for a moment outside Randall’s door, her hand against the doorframe, head bowed. She had no idea if he was still asleep, if her waking had disturbed him enough to shake him out of sleep. Stepping away, she padded into the kitchen, brewing a cup of soothing tea, pouring it into her favourite mug - thick, handturned clay, with grooves that seemed to fit her fingers exactly as she wrapped them around the mug. She curled up on the couch, tucked into the corner, both hands clutching her mug as she stared blankly at the empty fireplace, her mind a whirl.
---
Rand winced as Nori denied it was a dream Then the setting changed. To their old apartment in New York. God. He was already moving back when she yelled at him to get out of her dream. He’d almost forgotten what the place looked like. Tried to forget, because it hurt too much to think about. It was like bringing someone back to the scene of their greatest crime. Rand wanted to tell her he hadn’t changed her dream, but he didn’t try. He knew from experience the second she got out the door the dream would end and just left it. He’d made a mess of things again.
---
He wasn’t asleep when he pretty much sensed Nori nearby. Returning to his battered body and waking up to the pain made it stronger. When he was dreamwalking, he didn’t feel any pain unless he was experiencing something painful. It probably would have become an escape of it’s own if he had better luck not stumbling into people’s nightmares.
Nori didn’t stick around and after she’d left to go into the kitchen, Rand slowly sat up. His headache was better, the room didn’t spin from sitting up. As long as he moved slowly, he could probably walk without falling over. The pain he would just stubbornly muscle past, dammit. He pulled on his jeans and zipped them up, but didn’t bother fighting with any other clothing. Slowly making his way to the doorway, he used the wall for support. He hated the fact he was winded (and damn did that hurt) by the time he reached her living room.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “When I realized I was in your nightmare, I remembered what you’d said to me at Izumi’s. I should have just left, but I thought I could help. I promise I will stay out of your dreams from now on.” It was the best he could offer her. He understood if she was upset at him, she had every right to be. He should have known better than to try to fix things. It was too late.
Noriko heard him moving around, but she still jumped when she spoke, when he leaned against the wall beside the couch. She looked wrecked; her eyes reddened, hair still mussed by sleep. A mile away from the poised, put together woman that Rand had been confronted with at Izumi’s.
“You get one free pass,” she murmured roughly, still clearly rattled, curled up as small as she possibly could on the couch. “One. Because of your concussion. But don’t you ever do that again.” Her nightmares were bad enough; but she knew how they ended. She knew exactly what happened, because it was the same every time. First she lost Rand, then Izumi, then Noah. She could see them disappear, but never reach them. And she woke crying, shaking with fear. She sat up with a cup of tea until she felt calm, and made it through the rest of the day with caffiene and determination the only things keeping her on her feet. It might not have been healthy, but it was a routine. Rand had wrecked that routine, completely. She’d been left disoriented, and embarrassed by what he’d seen, what he’d no doubt picked up from her nightmare.
He nodded, heaving off the wall to go back to bed. Now wasn’t the time for a confrontation of any sort. “Thank you,” he told her. Yeah, he’d made a huge mistake. At least he’d been honest with her right away and no real damage had been done. They could both put back up their defensive walls until they were ready to talk. Nori obviously wasn’t ready yet, and he couldn’t blame her. She’d known he was back all of four days.
Noriko watched him as he forced himself to stand. The man was close to falling over, and yet he was still trying to walk. Stubborn idiot. She sighed, uncurling herself from her spot on the couch, standing.
“Sit down, you stupid man, before you fall over,” she murmured, not unkindly. She stood, walking towards the kitchen, setting down her cup and pulling another from beside the stove.
“I have some dreamless sleep tea, it might help you.” It didn’t always, but Noriko found she slept better most of the time, after drinking the tea. It was nothing particularly mysterious - valerian and kava tea that she got from a Chinese medicine store in town. She reheated some water, topping up her own mug and making him a fresh cup of tea. Carrying them both over to the couch, she handed him one of the mugs, curling up again in the spot she’d just vacated. “Drink. But carefully, it’s hot.”
“I was going back to bed,” he reminded her. “I just invaded your private thoughts. Even by accident. And tried to fix something that wasn’t broken. I didn’t think you’d want to deal with me. Hell, I know you don’t want to deal with me.” He sat down anyway, because the couch was closer than the room he had just left. “The tea won’t help, but thank you,” he said. It might help him breathe easier. “That’s part of the reason I became a junkie. When I passed out, I didn’t dreamwalk. At least for the first couple of hours until I came down.”
“Well of course it won’t help, with that attitude,” she muttered, curling up on the couch. He was right, in some ways. She didn’t want to deal with him. But it was more out of fear of what he would say, what he would think of her for still loving him. She was ashamed of those feelings, scared that she would end up hurt again.
“I appreciate what you were trying to do,” she said after a long pause, her voice soft. “But I’ve had that nightmare - or variations of it - for over 25 years.” She wasn’t sure if he’d seen it when they’d been together, if he’d dreamwalked her and found her wandering alone, looking for her newborn baby girl, her boyfriend.
Rand had to chuckle at that. Even if it made him wince right after. “You sound like every therapist I had for the first year of rehab,” he told her. Not that they weren’t right, but this was something he knew a bit more about. Part of the problem he was having was he was walking on glass around Nori, trying to respect how hard this was for her. And it was clearly hard on her. Which was hard for him to see. He’d caused her enough pain. Really.
‘“I know,” he said. “It seemed familiar, but I didn’t really recognize it until the room changed. Then it was my own nightmares I was remembering. I’m still sorry. I was out of line in assuming you needed me to rescue you from your nightmares now. I won’t do it again.”
“I did need you,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. She looked away from him, blinking them away. She would never have admitted this, under normal circumstances. It was partly the late - or technically early - hour, partly because she wasn’t quite awake, was still raw from her nightmare. “I needed you to rescue me then, Rand.” Even if she hadn’t known he could dreamwalk, that he could have made her nightmares better, Nori had still needed her boyfriend there. Had still needed to touch him, to feel him hold her. And she hadn’t had that, hadn’t had any of it.
Yeah, that was why he’d said now. “Nori, I know,” he told her. “I wish I could have. I spent years beating myself up over it. How I’d failed you in every way. Why do you think I even tried tonight? Even though I know there’s no way I can make up for the past. I wish I could.” This wasn’t doing either of them any good. “Sorry, that’s not helping.” He’d been down this road before. If he went down it again, especially in this much pain, he’d end up drinking. He’d been on the wagon for ten years. He didn’t need to fall off now.
“You can’t make up for the past,” Noriko murmured, a single tear spilling over, rolling down her cheek. She still wasn’t looking at him, staring at the fireplace instead. “But I can’t keep holding the man you are now responsible for what you did then.” She knew it wasn’t fair, knew that he was a different person now. She’d certainly changed, and grown. It didn’t make sense to deny him the same right. It was hard to let go of the hurt, however. She’d hidden in it for so many years, shutting herself away behind walls of hurt and betrayal, playing the stoic, suffering mother. She’d almost forgotten how to be a woman in her own right.
“I think you have the right to hold me responsible for everything I did back then,” he told her honestly. “I am not the same person, but they were still my mistakes. Mistakes that hurt you over and over again. I have no excuse for any of it. I know why I did it, but that doesn’t make any of it excusable.” God, all he ever seemed to do was hurt her. Still. “What did you ever see in me?” he asked in a moment of complete frustration.
“We all make mistakes,” Noriko murmured, wiping her eyes. “God knows I did.” She couldn’t regret Izumi, would never even consider it, but she definitely hadn’t been part of Noriko’s plan for how her life was going to go. But then, neither had Rand.
“The first time I met you,” she murmured, “you were picking me up out of the gutter because some asshole shoved my friends and I out of the queue.” She smiled a little at the memory. “I couldn’t see straight because I banged my head off the kerb. But I remember I couldn’t stop looking at your eyes.” She took a slightly shaky breath, looking at him at last. “They were kind.” She’d gotten his number, under some vague pretence - claiming she might need it in case the police pressed charges against the guy that had knocked her over. She’d never been that forward before, never been interested enough in a guy.
“You were so different to every other guy I’d met,” she admitted. “Exotic.” She shrugged, looking down at her mug, taking a small sip of her tea. “I looked for you, after you left,” she murmured after a long pause. “I was worried.” She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Bruised, and rattled, but I was more worried about what you were gonna do to yourself. The look on your face, Rand...” she trailed off, looking up at him, looking him in the eye. “I’ve never forgotten it. How horrified you were. You’re not a cruel man. That wasn’t you. The man that hit me...” Noriko’s voice shook, just a little. “It was the drink, and the drugs, that did that. Not you.”
And now he wished he hadn’t asked. Yeah, he hadn’t been a bad guy. Not until his life had spiraled out of control in Atlantic City. And even then, he wasn’t the one starting it most of the time. But he’d been lost and useless, which was almost worse than being abusive. He’d abandoned her. Because he was scared and lost and useless. Left her with a baby and nothing and Rand would never forgive himself for any of it. “It doesn’t matter why,” he told her, looking away now because looking at her hurt too much. “It doesn’t change anything. What I did, what I did to you. Jesus, Nori, why the hell didn’t you leave me? Your parents would have taken you back. Your father punched me when I contacted them to try and find you. Told me to stay out of your life and never bother any of them again.” Yeah, that wasn’t helping either. “I can’t believe you never found anyone. Someone who deserved to have you. Be the husband and father you and Izumi deserved.” It was one of the few things he’d comforted himself with in his hellish life in Atlantic City. That without him there, there was room for someone who wasn’t so worthless. Having that little fantasy shattered had just compounded all of his guilt.
Noriko just stared at him, tears rolling down her face.
“...You tried to find us?” She asked, voice soft, halting. She couldn’t believe her father had done that, had never told her that Rand had tried looking for them before. “When?” They’d been back in Japan for 8 years, so it had to be before then...she could believe that her father had punched Rand, sent him away - it didn’t make it any easier to hear. Izumi could have had a father in her teens, could have had Rand there to care for her.
Yeah, he never should have said that. “When I got out of rehab. Would have been like eight, nine years ago,” he said. “It was stupid. He was right. It was too late, but I thought-” He shook his head. “I just wanted to know you both were okay. Which he was kind enough to inform me of before he threatened to call the police. So I took the hint.” He was never good at confrontation unless it was at work. Rand didn’t want to fight. Part of the reason he worked in security. He didn’t start fights in his job. He ended them.
Nine years ago. Izumi would have been 14. 14, and a nightmare. They’d argued, constantly. Noriko had been stressed, had just changed jobs, and her home life had been a mess. In hindsight, introducing Rand into that mix might not have gone particularly well.
“It wouldn’t have been too late,” she murmured. “It still isn’t.” Izumi might be grown up now, but she still needed a father. Noah, a grandfather. And Noriko...she had no idea what she needed, anymore.
“He never told me,” she continued, frowning a little. “He took early retirement about 8 years ago, and they moved back to Japan.” It had seemed sudden at the time; her dad loved his job. Noriko was starting to wonder if it had been partly to protect her. If Rand couldn’t find her parents, he couldn’t find her.
“I hope not,” Rand assumed Nori was talking about with Izumi. “I couldn’t believe how forgiving Izumu was.” He chuckled wryly. “Hell, how forgiving you’re being. You both have every right to tell me to go to hell like your father did. But neither of you have. Which I’m very grateful for, even if I don’t show it very well.” He was still reeling from the reality of it, if he was being honest. The fact her father hadn’t told her about their encounter didn’t surprise him. “Of course he didn’t,” he said. “He was just protecting you. Tell me if Noah’s father showed up on your doorstep, you would do anything different?”
“Noah’s father isn’t fit to breathe the same air as Izumi,” Noriko muttered, face dark. She’d hated him, and while at first she thought it was just because he was taking her daughter away from her, she’d quickly realised that her first instincts were correct, and he was no good for her daughter. But Izumi’s ex wasn’t why they were here. Why they were talking. He was just a distraction.
“I could never tell you to leave,” she admitted softly, avoiding meeting his eyes. “You left once, and it nearly killed me. I can’t...” she swallowed hard. “I can’t watch you leave again, and know I’m the reason why.”
Because her father didn’t rightfully think the exact same thing about him? Rand let it go, because it wasn’t really the topic at hand. Really, he didn’t know enough about the guy to judge him. His instinct as a father was to pulverize the guy, no matter how much of a hypocrite that made him.
That hit him like a punch in the gut. Especially because she really seemed to believe it. “Nori,” he protested. “I didn’t leave because of you. I left because I was terrified of what I’d become. How I hurt you. You really think things wouldn’t have gotten worse from there? Hell, I didn’t come back partially because I expected that when I cooled down and sobered up, you’d have packed up and gone back to your parents with Izumi. I put you through so much and you stuck with me and then I hit you over something that was in my head. I left because I was terrified of myself. Not because of you. You and Izumi were the only things in my miserable life I had to live for. The only reason I didn’t drive off a bridge was because there was a small chance you might have forgiven me if I came crawling back.”
“You left to protect me,” Noriko murmured. “Me, and Izumi.” She took a slow, uneven breath, wanting so desperately to reach out to him, reassure him. It broke her heart to hear him speak like that, to know that he’d spent so long scared and miserable, running away from them.
“If you left now, it would be because of me.” She set down her mug, the tea cold by now. “Because I asked you to. And I couldn’t bear that.” Not only because Izumi would never forgive her, but because Noriko could never forgive herself.
“I waited for you,” she admitted, not wanting to hurt him, but needing him to know that she had still loved him, still believed in him. “My parents wanted me to come home, but I stayed in New York with Izumi for three months, hoping you would come back.” Her lower lip trembled a little, but no more tears fell. “It broke my heart to admit that you weren’t. To give up and stop waiting.”
“I left because I was afraid,” he told her. God, why did both of them try to make his running away something noble? “I was terrified and not thinking and seriously considered suicide for a long time. Instead of coming home to beg forgiveness, I got high and started driving south until I ran out of gas. Then proceeded to waste my life for the next fifteen years. Don’t give me so much credit. I was a loser junkie drunk who ran out on my family when I finally completely lost control.”
She was right. If Nori asked him to leave, he would. Because if it hurt her that much to have him around that much, it wasn’t worth it. Even if he had to take the blame to explain it to Izumi. “I would,” he admitted grimly. “I’ve caused you enough pain for a lifetime.”
God and had he. He knew this, because her father had screamed it at him when he’d been berating him. To hear it from her was even worse though, especially as low as he was feeling. Rand reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting tears. The tightness in his throat and chest was physically painful with his cracked and bruised ribs and he gritted his teeth so he didn’t show it. He didn’t even know what to say to that, although something slipped out anyway. “I’m sorry,” he practically whimpered. It was pathetic and didn’t even come close to expressing how he felt. If she railed at him for it right now, he couldn’t blame her. He could never make up for what he’d done to her.
Noriko felt even worse, seeing him near tears. “No, I...” She wanted to reach out to him, so badly it was almost painful. “I shouldn’t have told you that,” she whispered, tears rolling down her face now. They were tearing each other to pieces, and she couldn’t think of how to stop. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” She wrapped her arms tightly around herself, mouth twisting as she tried to stop crying.
“All I have ever done is hurt you,” he reminded her in a low, pained rasped. “You could show me home videos of how miserable you were and beat me senseless and still not break even on that one.” Which was the worst part. Even telling him all of this was hurting her. Jesus, why had he done this? Izumi didn’t need him, even though she wanted him around. Noriko sure as hell didn’t need this. The weight of guilt hurt far more than the pain shooting through his ribcage. But after everything he’d put her through, he wasn’t going to ask her to stop. Because he deserved it.
Noriko shook her head, refusing to let him torture himself any more than he already had. “Not true,” she insisted, her voice thick with sorrow, tears still rolling down her cheeks. “You gave me Izumi. I’ll always be grateful to you for her.” Izumi had been the best thing in her life, the only thing she’d had to hold onto for so many years. And now she was a grandmother, to the most beautiful boy in the world.
“And you gave me love.” Unless that had been a lie, unless it was the drink and the drugs that had been talking, when he’d told her how much he loved her, how perfect she was for him. “Or was that the drink, too?” She knew it wasn’t, knew that they way they’d felt about each other - the way she still felt - was genuine. She just wanted him to see that, to admit that. No matter how he felt about her now, he had loved her. Had taken care of her. “I loved you, Rand. I loved you, and I was happy. You made me happier than I’ve ever been, before or after. So don’t you dare take that away from me now.” It was the only thing she had left of him, of them. She was almost sobbing now, tears rolling down her face as she sat beside him, lost and hurting and looking far more like a child than the forty-something year old woman she was.
Because things like that didn’t hurt more than anything he could come up with on his own. It was easier when he was sure she hated him. Hating him made sense. This was so much worse than that. He had started to smile when she reminded him that they’d made Izumi together. “Okay, so I did one good thing in my life,” he began wryly. It was true. It wasn’t enough to make up for everything else, but he never regretted it for a moment.
Then she said that. Rand winced like she’d hit him. And then she just kept hitting him. He closed his eyes and concentrated on taking shallow breaths so he didn’t pass out. This conversation would be a lot easier to take if choking up didn’t make him dizzy. Tears were streaming down his face now, but talking just wasn’t happening. He didn’t have any idea what to say even if he could talk right now.
Noriko couldn’t feel any more guilty than she did then, watching him struggle to breathe, tears rolling down his face. She shifted closer, reaching up to wipe away his tears, still crying herself. “Please, Rand,” she whispered. “Stop belittling yourself, what we had.” she swallowed hard, fighting back a soft sob as she stroked his cheeks, wiping away his tears with her fingertips. “It kills me every time.” She had thought he was worth it, thought he was a good and kind man. To hear him dismiss that, think that he was worthless, cut her to the bone.
Rand couldn’t take much more before he threw up and/or passed out. “Stop,” he practically begged. He took a few more breaths before trying to continue. “I would never diss on what we had.” More breaths, fuck, speaking shouldn’t hurt this much. “You were everything.” Not exactly how she had put it, but if she wanted him coherent, it wasn’t happening. “And I threw it away.” He hated himself more than either of them could. As if that hadn’t become obvious. “For that, I am worthless.”
Noriko pulled her hands away from his face, assuming that’s what he was asking her to stop doing. She took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to wipe her face with the back of her hand, a fruitless effort considering she was still crying. She shook her head, still disagreeing with him. “You’ve never been worthless,” she said softly, pleading with him to understand. “Not to me. Please, stop saying that you are.” It killed her, to hear him talking about himself like he was nothing, like he had deserved any of what had happened to him after he’d left them. This was the closest she’d come to admitting how she felt, to addressing what was no doubt obvious to him, considering the dream. She loved him; always had, and likely always would. But she wasn’t going to put that on him, not when he was tired and in so much pain.
It was like they were speaking completely different languages. Rand winced when she said that. He didn’t know who she was in love with, but it wasn’t him. She’d idealized him into something he wasn’t and had never been. No, he’d never been a bad guy, but he’d wasted his life. Run away from the only people he’d ever loved over and over and hearing Nori beg him to stop saying it because she didn’t want to believe it just made him want to scream. Of course, if he screamed right now, he would pass out. Which was still on the table because it would end this horrible conversation.
“Sorry,” he breathed out. “I won’t.” It was easier to just agree to what she wanted than try to make her understand he wasn’t who she thought he was and probably never had been. “I don’t- I never wanted to hurt you.” Because very little else made him feel worse than that. If that hadn’t become ridiculously obvious right now.
She was surprised that he wasn’t arguing the point - but they were both so exhausted by now, perhaps he was just giving in to make things easier.
“I know,” she whispered, her eyes still on his face. The tears, the look on his face, made her heart ache. She’d thought just seeing him again, knowing he was there, was bad enough. Seeing him in pain because of what she’d said was infinitely worse. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand over his, squeezing gently. She didn’t know how to fix this, didn’t know how to make either of them feel better. They’d ripped each other to pieces tonight and it hadn’t solved anything. Years ago the answer would have been obvious. When they’d argued, or when either of them had woken from nightmares, it had taken nothing more than soft embraces, a few kisses to smooth things over. She’d kissed tears from his cheeks on more than one night. Now though, she was at a loss.
Exactly, he was giving in. If they kept going at it like this, he’d throw up and pass out. Which neither of them needed. Nori never gave in, gave up or backed down unless she was forced to. Which was why she’d never given up on him. She was far more stubborn than he was, no matter what he’d told Izumi earlier. Rand had always been the one to give in first. Especially with Nori. This wasn’t doing either of them any good, if anything, it had made things worse. Anymore and they’d both break completely. He was almost glad when she took her victory and backed down. He was shaking like he was in withdrawal when she took his hand, but he squeezed her hand back. “I’m okay,” he rasped, even if it was a complete lie and neither of them were. This conversation would hurt a lot less if he wasn’t so beat up. That said, he would have stuck to guns longer and made it worse if he had been at full strength. So it was a trade off.
“Liar,” Noriko replied, managing a faint, shaky smile through her tears. He’d never been able to lie, not to her. She was trembling too, from the tears and the chill of the early morning. “I’m going to prove to you that you’re a good man, Randall Blackhawk.” She was stubborn as all hell, and she wasn’t giving on him. Not now. “Whether you believe it or not.” Her thumb stroked slowly over his knuckles, all the comfort she trusted herself to give, right now.
He chuckled weakly at her accusation, then only barely managed not to visibly wince when she said that. Oh God, she was serious? He was really tired and sore to argue, but his self-loathing was a bit stronger than the pain in his ribs. “Why?” he asked wearily. “Why are you so damned certain I’m worth the effort?” As soon as the words passed his lips, he regretted them. He knew the answer and to be honest, he still didn’t understand. Even before everything, she could have done a hell of a lot better than a jumped up kid from the reservation who’s sole marketable ability was being able to look big and scary enough that people behaved themselves around him.
Noriko sighed. “You were worth the effort 25 years ago,” she murmured. “I loved you, then.” She smiled sadly. “And I still do now.” Her heart was pounding, every bit of logic screaming that she was being an idiot. That all she was doing was driving him away from her. Izumi would never forgive her if Rand ran away because he couldn’t deal with how she felt. Pushing those thoughts aside, she leant close, kissing him softly on the forehead. She needed to leave, now, before she made things any more of a mess than she already had. “Goodnight, Rand,” she whispered, pulling back and getting to her feet.
Okay, they were back to taking up residence in the realm of the absurd. Or Rand had hit rock bottom and there was nowhere else to go. “No,” he told her with as much strength as he could muster. “You can’t tell me you love me still and just go off like that. You don’t even want to.” He knew he didn’t want her to. Taking as deep of a breath as he could manage, he lifted his head and looked at her. “Do you really want to give me time to talk myself out of this?” Which is exactly what he’d do and they both knew it.
Noriko quirked an eyebrow when he said ‘no’ sternly, not knowing whether he was disagreeing with what she’d said, or with her leaving.
“I’m giving you space to think about it,” she insisted weakly, knowing that it was complete bullshit, and knowing that Rand knew it too. She was running away, plain and simple. Because it was easier. Because it would hurt less. Because if she didn’t leave the room now, she’d end up doing something they’d both regret.
“Talk yourself out of what?” She asked, just as softly, sitting down cross-legged on the floor at his feet, rather than beside him on the couch. That way, she was out of reach. That way, she couldn’t be tempted to reach out for his hand. She tucked her hands under her feet for good measure, her button-up sweater pooling on the ground behind her, slipping off one bare shoulder.
Okay, he couldn’t take this. Not with how much he was hurting and how raw his soul felt. She’d done all of that, given him hope and now she wanted to play mind games with him. Rand sighed and pushed to his feet. It was clear she needed to be honest with herself before she could be honest with him. “Good night, Noriko,” he said as he carefully stepped past her. Now he didn’t know what to think, except that this hadn’t helped things between them one bit.
Noriko just stared at him, mouth open, as he got to his feet and walked away from her. She scrambled to her feet, overtaking him, standing in his way.
“What?!” She snapped, hurt and angry and bewildered. He criticised her for walking away and then did exactly the same? That wasn’t fair. Gritting her teeth, she stared at him. And then swallowed her pride.
“Fine,” she muttered, each word clearly costing her dearly. “I was running away.”
He was going to get whiplash from this. “Yes, you were,” he said, as if that was the reason he’d walked away. “Which doesn’t go well with ‘I still love you’.” He sagged against the wall, because they were apparently not done yet. Which was good and bad. “So make up your mind. Which is it?” Too harsh, but Rand was exhausted, hurting and still confused as fuck.
Watching him slump against the wall was almost physically painful. No matter how angry and frustrated Rand made her, Noriko didn’t want to see him hurting any more than he already had. Wordlessly she took his hand, threading her fingers between his. She tugged gently, leading him to the spare bedroom.
“Lie down,” she murmured. “Before you hurt yourself.” She pulled the covers back, helping him sit down on the bed. She helped him lay back slowly, then walked around to the other side of the bed and climbed up onto it. She sat on top of the covers, facing the pillows, her legs crossed. Her knee rested against his arm, her hands folded loosely in her lap. She wanted to touch him, wanted to kiss him - they’d always been better without words, neither of them good at saying what they meant, what they wanted each other to hear. But it wasn’t her place, or her right, to do that now.
He really, really wished they weren’t having this conversation when he was so beat up. They’d be on more even terms. Or not needing to dance around the stupid cracked ribs. “Too late,” he muttered. “And stop avoiding the question. Or I’m going to take it as a you aren’t willing to take the chance again. Which I can’t blame you for.” He took a deep breath. “Wanting to prove to me I am a good man is not the same as still being in love with me.” Which was still unreal to him. How in the world could she still love him after everything? “I wish-” He shook his head. He wasn’t going to say how he felt before she answered. Because if he put his own feelings on her, it would force her hand. Besides, if it wasn’t ridiculously obvious by now, then telling her wouldn’t get through her denial. Because he’d ever gotten that worked up over someone he didn’t love.
“No, it’s not the same thing,” she murmured softly. “I want you to realise you’re a good man. Because I love you, and watching you tear yourself apart again and again out of guilt is going to destroy me.” She couldn’t keep trying to make him see, not if he was just going to fall back into the same guilt again, think that he wasn’t worthy of having her and Izumi in his life.
“I watched you with Noah,” she continued, her voice barely a whisper. She was shaking, terrified that he was just waiting to tell her no, to tell her that he didn’t love her. “The look on your face when you were holding him...it reminded me so much of you with Izumi. Of how happy we were. I know you think you’ve lived a bad life.” She slipped her fingers into his, squeezing gently. “But you have a kind heart. And you’re still the man I fell in love with outside a sleazy nightclub.”
Okay, he was going to have to put a lid on the self-loathing. He could do that. It wasn’t like it felt good to talk about himself that way. Just so long as she and Izumi stopped trying to make his past mistakes into anything but what they were.
He was reaching for her hand long before Nori twined their fingers together. He knew how being that afraid had felt. His biggest mistake of all was staying by himself and not coming back to her after their last fight. Because if he’d known he hadn’t lost her completely in the moment his hand struck her face, he wouldn’t have left for good. He didn’t want her to ever feel that way. Nothing she had put him through tonight was too painful.
“I had a terrible life,” he told her gently. “A life I chose when I left you. I made bad choices. That wasn’t because I didn’t love you. It was because I was scared and messed up and stupid. I am praying to God I am not that bad anymore.” He wouldn’t ever claim not to still be a little messed up and God right now he was terrified. “But I am not that man, or the one who ran away from you, or the one who wasted his life for fifteen years. Those men are still a part of me and they all have one thing in common with me. I love you, Nori. I never stopped loving you. Why do you think I kill myself with guilt over everything? I committed the greatest sin of all. I hurt the woman I loved in a way I didn’t think she could ever forgive me for. That is why.” Because that wasn’t screamingly obvious. God.
Noriko had cried more in the past hour than she had in years. But there was a watery smile on her face this time, even as her eyes welled up. She lifted their joined hands up, kissing the back of his hand softly. “I forgive you,” she whispered. “I’m tired of living in the past, of being hurt and bitter.” She rested his hand against her cheek, closing her eyes for a moment, sighing softly. “I was so jealous of Izumi, when you said you came back for her.” She looked down at him, “I felt like such a bad mother, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted it to be me. I wanted to be the reason you came back to us.”
He’d cried more in the past hour than he had in years. Rand was not a man who dealt with his emotions well. It was easier to play the stoic, stone faced cigarbox Indian than let people see into his soul at all. See all the weakness there, all of his sins and regrets. Having laid them bare for Nori had been the hardest thing he’d ever had to do in his life. He winced when she forgave him so easily, but he could understand not wanting to live in the past. “Thank you,” he murmured. Because it was more than he ever expected and he was grateful. He shook his head. “I came back to offer her help, because I didn’t want being a dreamwalker to hurt her like I let it hurt me,” he said. “I think my grandfather played me like a violin. He knew how miserable and guilt riddled I was, but he also knew I’d never try to mend that fence because of the guilt. So he hit me with it. Well below the belt. He knew if I got back into Izumi’s life, it was only a matter of time before I had to face you. Anything else, I could have used to stay away, leave you both in peace. But Dreamwalkers are rare and there was no one else who could help her.” Yeah, his grandfather had played him. But he was glad he had. “It wasn’t that I wanted to stay away, I just was sure neither of you ever wanted to see me again. Especially you.”
“I’m glad he did,” Noriko murmured, wiping away her tears, smiling down at him softly. She was drained, exhausted, but she didn’t want to go to bed. Not when they’d finally stopped pushing each other away, putting up walls and obstacles and pulling back from admitting how they felt. “And I’m glad you listened.” She still held his hand in hers, her fingertips stroking the back of his hand, from his wrist down to his knuckles and back up again.
“I was too scared not to,” he admitted. “Look what a mess I let not being able to control my powers make of my life? I knew I was a Dreamwalker and I almost let it destroy me. Izumi would have no idea.” Nothing quite moved a person like gut wrenching terror. “But she’s fine. It sounds like she never wandered past your dreams. You are a wonderful mother. Look how she turned out. Beautiful and successful and happy. And we have a gorgeous grandchild. Izumi got upset when I told her she didn’t need me. She doesn’t. You don’t either. But the fact you both still want me in your lives after everything is more than I could have asked for.”
He groaned and shook his head. “Come here already,” he said. “Trust me, after that stupid show of bravado walking out there and back, you cannot make my ribs worse.” He needed to hold her, and convince himself this wasn’t just some dream. Because he literally couldn’t tell the difference between his own dreams and reality until he woke up. It was a frightening problem and one of the reasons he was an insomniac.
“Hey, Izumi’s looks are at least half you,” she pointed out. “Her legs come up past my waist, just about.” While they had roughly the same build, Izumi had sprouted past her mother’s height in her teens. She hesitated, not wanting to make him hurt any more than he already did. But honestly, the thought of getting up and pulling away from him was more than she could bear. Shrugging off her sweater, she slipped under the covers beside him.
“Did you sleep in your jeans?” She murmured, carefully resting her head on his shoulder. She didn’t want to lean too close, put any more pressure on his ribs than she likely already was.
“No, they’re not,” he said. “She looks just like you. To the point when I saw her across the room at the club, I thought I was dreaming about meeting you for the first time again.” Yes, she was much taller than Nori, but she didn’t seem to have inherited anything else from him. Well, him directly. “She reminds me of my mother sometimes though. Her jawline is like Mom’s.” He wouldn’t any daughter resembling him too closely anyway. He would be an ugly woman.
Rand rolled his eyes. “No, I didn’t,” he told her. “I haven’t changed that much. I kept enough on to be decently covered, since I roll around in my sleep constantly. Why, are you trying to get me naked?” Nori, bless her soul, was kind of a prude. He was hoping to make her blush and get a smile out of her. This whole damned conversation had been too damned tense and draining.
Noriko blushed, though she was smiling a little. “I didn’t know I had to try,” she murmured, arching an eyebrow at him. “And I’ve already seen you mostly-naked today.” Not as awkward as it had been at the time. Not now she knew he still wanted her, that they felt the same way about each other. She hid a yawn with her hand, snuggling a little closer, resting her hand carefully on the centre of his chest.
Rand laughed. Which was a mistake. “Ow,” he whimpered. “Okay, no laughing. That was a bad idea.” He pulled her closer wrapping one heavily muscled arm around her shoulders. “No, you don’t have to try, but before you fall asleep on me, I should take them off.” Which wasn’t logistically working in the current position.
Noriko sighed happily, her eyes closing for a long moment as his arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulled her more firmly against him. He’d always made her feel safe, protected, and that hadn’t changed. She slid her hand down from his chest, unbuttoning his jeans, sliding down the zipper, almost painfully slowly. She might still be a bit of a prude, but she wasn’t as inexperienced as all that. Besides, she wanted to get a reaction out of him that wasn’t yelling or tears - there had been far too much tension tonight.
“Okay, that was not what he meant. Rand groaned. Were he not so exhausted in every way possible, the effect would have been instant and visible. But since he felt like he’d been run over by a truck in every way, he couldn’t even enjoy it. “You’re trying to kill me,” he accused. “Or else you’d torture me when I could actually enjoy it.”
“I’m helping,” Noriko teased, smiling at him. “Ok, no I’m not.” She sat up, pulling the covers back. “Come on, lift your hips.” She tugged his jeans down, helping him kick them off, before pulling the sheets back up over both of them. He was still wearing his boxers, and she was in loose cotton yoga pants and a tank top. Not exactly sexy. Right now all she wanted was comfort, to feel his arms wrapped around her again.
She lay down in his arms, pulling the sheets up carefully, hesitant to put too much pressure on his ribs as she lay against him. “Tell me if it gets too sore,” she murmured, trying to look stern. She was still leaning up on one elbow, finding it difficult to stop looking at him long enough to just lay down. They were both exhausted, but she was scared that if she went to sleep, this would all turn out to be a dream.
“Goodnight, Rand,” she murmured softly, bending her head to kiss him softly; chaste, barely brushing her lips against his.
‘You’re not,” he assured her. He cooperated, because he hated sleeping in clothes period. Boxers were bad enough. She was plenty sexy. He just wasn’t in any condition to enjoy it.
“It’s too sore,” he told her, as he wrapped an arm around her anyway. “But I don’t care.” Part of him was praying this wasn’t some dream. Or else tomorrow was going to be even more awkward than every other day he’d been around Noriko. He had no choice about sleeping, especially with her laying next to him. Rand always slept better when she was in bed with him.
He could feel his body relaxing and his eyes drifting closed. He could barely return the kiss at all before he dozed off.