Who: Lorne Cameron and Clementine Bennett What: The emo-crazy is Shakespearean, the cure is Whedonesque When: Tuesday Afternoon Where: Elsinore Castle, Denmark
Lorne had not expected to find this place. Hamlet’s world was so different from his, he couldn't imagine them crossing over, not like this. He kept dreaming about it though. About the castle, and about the ghost of Hamlet’s father. At least he thought they were dreams. He was choosing to believe that they were dreams. Maybe if he went along with it, maybe if he did what the vision told him to, it would stop. Then he could get back to his real life and get back to sleeping peacefully.
He’d intentionally chosen a day when he had plans later to go hunting for an imaginary castle. He could go to Denmark, poke around at random for a few hours, and then take the MTN to California to see Clem and forget any of this ever happened. Except it didn’t turn out that way. For one thing, he hadn’t realized he spoke Danish. Or rather, that his other half did. It was supposedly one of the greatest plays in the English language, so it was easy to forget that the characters... weren’t actually English. Then he’d rented a car and headed out of the city and found it. Just like that. Like it was where it was supposed to be, where he’d known it would be all along.
By the time he’d entered the castle, (not ruins, not a reproduction, not a museum, but Elsinore, exactly the way it had been the day he died), Lorne wasn’t in charge anymore. He was, at best, along for the ride. He’d wandered around in a distracted haze, taking in everything, and quite possibly talking to himself at regular intervals. It was only when his phone had rung, a modern noise so discordant with the surroundings, that Lorne had come to his senses. It was Clem. He’d missed their date.
He’d done the only thing he could think of to do. He’d invited her here. He didn’t want to wallow in his other half’s tragedy, not really, but his other half did want that, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to leave. It was unfinished. Report me and my cause aright to the unsatisfied. So much for that. The prince was the one who was unsatisfied, no matter what Horatio may or may not have done after the play ended.
Lorne wasn’t going to spread the tale to the world, that had already been done to a rather astonishing degree. He could share this with someone though. He owed Clem anyway, right? She’d given him a tour of Serenity after all. Maybe sharing it with Clem would bring him back to himself. He already felt less like he was looking at the world through a layer of fog, just having her around now.
Their steps echoed hollowly in the main chamber, meant to hold many more people than just the two of them. “Not bad, is it? I mean the style’s a bit dated...” The attempt at a joke rang hollowly too. Lorne just wasn’t himself.
---
Clementine was worried. Not only had Lorne flaked on their date (a first), but when she’d called he hadn’t sounded like himself. Which was why she’d offered to jump across the world to make sure that he was okay. Her general interest in Danish castles was pretty low, but for Lorne she was willing to wander around one until her feet fell off. There were several reasons for that, the most outstanding being that she cared about him and didn’t want him to have to deal with this along. She also remembered how loud and excited Kaylee had gotten whenever they first explored Serenity. That was all fine and dandy when your reincarnate was the nice type, but if the same thing was happening to Lorne, she couldn’t imagine that it was pleasant.
The car ride had been awkward. Lorne was distracted and their conversation was somewhat strained. Eventually, she gave up on trying to lighten the mood. When the castle finally loomed up in front of them, she was more than a little nervous. The whole thing just looked gloomy and depressing. She couldn’t imagine living somewhere like that, let alone having it crowd out her memories. No wonder he was all edgy. She was already starting to feel the same way.
As they walked inside, she slid her hand in to his. This was a far cry from her own world, the home that Kaylee had known. That made her even more nervous, but she smiled for Lorne whenever he tried to make a joke. “Just a little.” She looked around, staying as close to him as she could. “It’s really, um, large.”
---
He held her hand tightly. It was a lifeline to the real world, which he needed. He was definitely losing it, the voice in his head getting more insistent. If he didn't focus he would slip away entirely. So he focused. He was Lorne Cameron, a guy from Scotland and prince of absolutely nothing. He was with his girlfriend Clementine and they were currently touring an honest to god castle. How cool was that? It would make a great film set, that was for sure. He smiled at that, since that thought was so very clearly his and his alone.
"It is. Bigger than I remember it, you know? I mean, in the memories it's almost always full of people, so that's a difference. When his father was alive it was... vibrant." And then he was slipping again, because that thought wasn't his. "There'd be banquets, the place full of courtiers, players, jesters." Lorne released her hand, wandering through the room the way he could imagine it, or remember it. He leapt up onto the raised platform at the end of the room. "He'd sit here, upon the dais, and my mother would lean against his arm and turn her face to his like a flower turning towards the sun..." He looked back to Clem, blinking, realizing something was wrong with what he'd said. "His mother, I mean..."
---
She was nodding along with what he was saying, drawing on her own very vague recollections of the one time she’d seen the play. Then he let go of her hand, and she paid a lot more attention to exactly what he was saying. Clementine had never seen a person disappear that quickly before, but just like that, Lorne was gone. It wasn’t just what he was saying. There was a look about him that was…different. This was not her boyfriend. She might have panicked, if Kaylee hadn’t been somewhat used to these types of break downs. Lorne may not have been crazy all the time, but he was definitely displaying some symptoms right then. This was so not good.
Before she really thought it through, she jumped up onto the platform with him. “Right. His mother.” As concerned as she was, she was also kind of nervous. That was enough to make her approach with caution. “Maybe we should go. We can come back tomorrow. Bring some more people with us. Maybe that will make it feel less…empty.”
---
Lorne had checked out. Not willingly, he was simply overwhelmed and as much as he tried, he couldn't fight it. So when Clem stood on the platform, Hamlet turned towards her with that expression of feigned madness, bleeding into resentment, bleeding into real madness. Why would she suggest bringing more people? Did she know something he didn't? Was there a reincarnate of Claudius out there somewhere? Was she really on his side? He shouldn't have brought her here.
"Are you honest?" he demanded loudly. Then softer, "Are you fair?" He took her hand again, reached out and touched her hair. She was fair, or face and figure. She'd come with him, he could trust her. He cared about her. Lorne cared about her a lot. He wasn't deceived, was he? He turned away. "Give me a man who is not passion's slave and I will wear him in my heart's core."
---
He was gone. Really gone, a different person wearing Lorne’s face. She’d been dealing with reincarnation in all it’s various forms for a long time, but this…this was not something that was seen every day. What was she supposed to say? Answering might make things even worse. Instead, she just stood perfectly still as he touched her, trying not flinch away. Lorne was still in there somewhere. There had to be something she could do. If he couldn’t come back on his own, she had to help. She just had no idea how to do that without making Hamlet fly off the handle.
When he turned away, she took a deep breath. This would either work, or backfire horribly. “Okay. Listen.” She circled around him and put a hand on either side of his face, hoping this would be enough to keep him from going off on another tangent. “Come back, baby.” She was counting on him still being able to hear her, looking him in the eyes and hoping that the madness would fade soon. Being alone in a castle with an unfamiliar reincarnate was not her idea of a good time, and as much as she trusted Lorne, she had no idea what Hamlet would do next. She really needed to read the damn play again. “I need you to look at me, okay? Look at me and focus.” Her voice cracked, that slight edge of panic starting to seep in. She needed him back, and now. “Don’t you leave me alone here, Lorne.”
---
Lorne had given up control before. Partially. Willingly. For all that his reincarnate was the definition of instability, he liked him. He trusted him and thought he understood him. He'd never realized something like this could happen, that the prince could wrest control away so thoroughly. It was frightening, especially when his own panic was reflected in Clem's eyes. He didn't know what his other self would do next. Not like this.
Even as he took control, he was obviously not all there himself. It was was being here. He had to see what he'd done. The carpet still rolled back for the fencing bout. The blood stains on the floor, still obvious but not, thank god, fresh. It was like someone had done a half-hearted job at scrubbing away the blood. His blood. No, that small spot, that was Laertes. Then the trail, the larger spot from Claudius, and next to it his, Hamlet's. You wouldn't think anyone had died, to look at it. The poison had done the brunt of the work. To anyone who knew though, the tale was written out on those bare stones. He stared at the floor, then looked up at Clem's voice, remembering that he wasn't alone here.
He looked at her. How could he not, when she was pleading like that? Lorne tried to focus, through everything. Through the rage and fear and guilt of another man. It's over, Lorne thought forcefully. Your story's over. You can't change it. Hamlet tried to step back, but Lorne willed himself to stay put. You got your revenge, you can't do it again. I hope it was worth it, but even if it wasn't, let it fucking go, mate.
Hamlet sighed, the weary suspiration of a man who'd lost everything, who'd been wronged but also realized the sheer monumental scale of how much he'd fucked up. Then he closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he was just Lorne. Alone and himself.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. He leaned in an kissed her gently, unsure if it was to reassure her or himself. Maybe both. "I'm sorry, babe. I'm here now. It's me."
---
She could practically see him struggling, the clarity going in and out of his eyes. All she could do was stand there and try to will him back. If this didn’t work, she didn’t know what she was going to do. Wait it out with a highly unstable character? Shake him until he gave Lorne back? Run away? Those all seemed like perfectly reasonable options with her standing there on the edge of a freaking out completely. If this had been her mom or her dad that had been taken over, she would know how to handle it, because she knew the people they were carrying around. It wouldn’t be like this, dealing with a stranger. That had to be what was making her the most nervous.
But then, as quick as he’d gone, he was back. “Oh, thank god.” She didn’t bother to try to hide any of her relief. Her arms dropped enough so that she could wrap them around his shoulders and bury her face against his neck. Holding on to him, and knowing that it was him helped erase a lot of her nerves and general creeped-outness. “Don’t do that again.” Since she was mumbling against the side of his neck, she couldn’t be sure if he’d heard that. Leaning back, she tried again. “You’re okay now? Everything’s okay?”
---
It was like a weight had been lifted, something that had been building for days and days. His relief was as obvious as Clem's, and he held onto her tightly, rubbing his hand on her back. He didn't want to let her go. If it weren't for her, he didn't know how deep he might have gone. How long he might have spent here, not himself, lost.
"I'm okay." He took a deep breath, calming down still. "I'm okay. I just got... lost." He ran his finger down her cheek, the gesture nearly identical to what he'd done before, when he asked if she was honest and fair, yet somehow completely different. There was no confusion or suspicion. Just familiarity and fondness. He smiled. "Thanks for finding me."
---
If he didn’t want to let her go, she was completely fine with that. This entire place was damp and dark and depressing. Now that he was back to himself, he was about the only warm and comforting thing in this place. She really didn’t want to move, unless they were leaving. Elsinore was going down at one of her least favorite places to be. That could always change, if the second impression was better than the first, but for now it was nothing but creepy.
“I noticed.” She smiled back at him, letting his fingers trace some of the skeeviness out of her recent memory. “There was no way I was just going to let him run around here with me. I wanted you back.” Leaning up, she gave him a quick kiss. “But don’t mention it. I’d do it again if I had to.”
---
"I'm very glad to be back." He kept her close and he kissed her again. "I won't go away again, I promise." Now and then he wondered if he wasn't as moody and unbalanced as his other half, and if he wasn't just going to snap someday. Hamlet never had this though. In all the memories that Lorne could search, there was nothing like the way Lorne was increasingly feeling about Clem. Hamlet had loved Ophelia, but it alternated between a polite courtly love and some desperate melancholy thing that almost hurt to think about. Compared to that, Clementine was like sunshine. She made him happy just being her and he didn't know or care why. He just wanted more of it, and he wanted to make her feel the same way.
"He meant well, you know." Lorne wasn't sure why he felt the need to apologize for Hamlet, or to defend the guy who'd just more or less kidnapped him. "He thought it was justice, or what his father wanted. It all went wrong though... We had to come back here and see what he'd done." He looked around again, thinking. Lorne didn't have the same impression of the castle that Clem did. Now that he was himself, it wasn't haunted by memories. It was just a place, and an interesting one at that, like nowhere he'd ever seen before. Even knowing the tragedy that had brought down it's inhabitants, he couldn't help being a little fascinated. He wasn't about to insist that they stay there though.
"Let's get out of here."
---
She gave him another tight squeeze. “I don’t blame you for wanting to come back here. And I’m glad I was here.” Even if she didn’t quite agree with his assessment of Hamlet. There was something about these places that called to their characters. She’d had to see Serenity for the same reason. There was no way she could know it was there and not see it. Serenity, though, was much more welcoming than Elsinore. In her opinion, anyway. That probably had something to do with her reincarnate. Now she felt kind of bad about hauling him in to the ship, if he’d felt the same way there that she did here.
Stepping back, she kept her hands on his arms. “Are you sure? We just got here.” Clem didn’t really want to stay, but she would for him. Especially if she needed to stay there and keep him from getting lost again. “I mean, this place is kinda creepy, but it is your’s so…” She shrugged. If he wanted to stay, she would say, and that was that.
---
He didn't realize how weird this was for her. He'd been excited to see Serenity. Mostly for the chance to spend more time with her, true, but once he'd gotten there the ship itself was warm and welcoming and full of details, more full of life than any shell of metal should have been. It was the opposite of the castle in every way, actually. So maybe he did have some sense that this might not be a comfortable place for her, once he thought about it.
"I'm sure." He bit his lip, thinking, possibly planning. It was his. That was a weird thought. He had a castle. Unless anyone else came back, and even then, he could only think of two people who might argue his right to the place. "Maybe I'll come back later. When he's settled down. I don't know..." Hamlet had wanted nothing more than to leave, to go back to Wittenberg and forget the place before things truly fell apart, but it was still his.
"Let's go find somewhere friendlier. Besides, I still owe you a dinner date, and for some reason this castle didn't come with a chef."
---
Clementine threaded her fingers through his, and sighed with relief. If he wanted to go, then she didn’t feel quite as bad about leaving. “If you don’t want to come back alone, you know I’ll come with you.” She hoped her smile was reassuring, because that’s what she was aiming for. There were no other reincarnates, that she knew of, that had any sort of claim to the castle, so it wasn’t like he had anyone else to keep him company here. It was in her nature to do the nice thing. One day, that was probably going to bite her in the ass, but it had been working out pretty well for her so far.
“Okay.” She kissed him on the cheek, lingering for a bit before she pulled away and started leading the way out of the huge room. Not that she was eager to leave or anything. Her grin took a slightly more teasing edge. It wouldn’t do much good to go somewhere else if he was just as mopey as his other half. Which meant it was up to her to cheer him up. “So you didn’t completely forget about our date, huh? In that case, I guess I’ll just have to keep you around.”
---
That was incredibly nice of her, being willing to come back with him, even after the giant mess of crazy she'd been faced with agreeing to come here even once. Then again, he shouldn't have been surprised. Clementine Bennett was proving to be quite possibly the nicest person ever. Between how they'd met, and the truth water, and now this. Any other woman would have run screaming by now, or at least told him off. Of course, he might have run himself, after how they met, and the truth water, and her family. Apparently they were both incredibly understanding.
He let her lead the way out, already significantly cheerier, even as he gave the place a last look. "I got distracted, but fortunately someone called to remind me." He caught her up and walked beside her, putting one arm around her. "Forget the existential crisis. I'd have had a real reason to be depressed if I missed out on our date."
---
“That’s what I’m her for.” It was a good thing that he hadn’t thought her call was bitchy or clingy. That hadn’t been her intent. She’d really just wanted to know what was up after he was an hour later. They’d actually gotten pretty lucky. If he’d stayed here by himself, he might have gone crazy by himself. Who knows how long it would have taken someone to find him raving around here all alone.
She slid her arm around his back. “Me too. And do you have any idea how hard it is to depress me?” Leaning her head briefly against his shoulder, she grinned up at him. If he was happier, she was definitely happier. “So, where are we going? Because this is another one of those countries that I know absolutely nothing about.”
---
“I know it’s not easy, sunshine.” He’d rather she’d be disappointed if he’d missed their date than just ticked off though. That was kind of sweet, in an odd way. “But I wouldn’t want to do anything to bring you down.”
Lorne wasn’t sure where they should go. Anything he knew about Denmark was several hundred years out of date and probably not accurate to begin with. “I... have no idea. It’ll be an adventure? So long as we’re together.” That sounded as cheesy as he’d thought it might, but he didn’t really care. He’d already lost his mind once today, he was allowed to be cheesy.