Sunday May 11th 2008
Who: Fisher and Nox What: Late night visit Where: Nox's campus apartment When: Very early Sunday morning (around 1:30am)
It was very late, but Nox had said "anytime" Fisher needed him. And while Fisher might not need Nox, Nox probably needed someone. And Fisher needed an escape. He needed out of the room he was staying in, away from Lyle and everyone else. Rez was a total mess and it was tense in there, and the lycan was thankfully asleep. He couldn't go back to his actual room, because Lyle would be there and he knew what Lyle would say. It could have been you. And it could have been. But Fisher didn't want to hear it. Maybe he was still blind, still felt stupidly invincible. Maybe he couldn't handle the look on Lyle's face as he said it. Or maybe he just didn't care if it was true or not.
He had been to the staff dorms enough times, thanks to Lloyd, to be able to navigate them in the dimness. His boots thudded in the hollow corridors, chains jangling noisily, though everything remained still. He felt like a ghost walking. It was too apt a description for his liking, and he chucked the metaphor violently from his thoughts. Standing before Nox's door, Fisher gave a moment's hesitattion before knocking softly, three precise taps.
Nox wasn't asleep, but he was in bed. The baby and Belle had both passed out hours ago, Belle curled up next to Nox in an effort to comfort him, while the baby was sleeping soundly in a bassinet on Belle's side of the bed. The couple had taken to splitting their time between the two apartments but always staying together. Recently, Nox had started to consider suggesting that they officially move in together, but then everything exploded into chaos, and it didn't seem like the right time to bring up something so big and happy.
He'd been watching Belle dream, the rapid movement of her eyes giving it away, when there was an extremely soft knock at the door. Hopefully it wouldn't be enough to wake Belle. She wasn't much of a sleeper, as it really wasn't an essential for elementals. Every so carefully, he pulled away from her and slipped out of the bed.
It wasn't the first time he'd been called to the door in the middle of the night, and it wouldn't be the last, but Nox was always nervous when someone came calling at this hour. He dreaded more bad news. Looked like he might be right, as Fisher came into view when the door opened. The young man didn't look so great. "Come in," Nox offered in a soft voice, moving out of the way to clear a path for Fisher.
---
Nox shirtless. What a way to start the day. The demon looked tired, but then again he always looked that way. Fisher was too distracted by the man's lack of clothing (and his smooth bare chest, ugh seriously get over this crush Majors!) to notice the fresh lines around Nox's eyes. The man looked a mess, as surely Fisher did as well, and for the same reason.
Hugging himself, Fisher stepped into the unfamiliar apartment, turning to take in the decor in what little light was available. Very plain. Shocking. When he finally let himself look back at Nox, he realized that Nox wasn't wearing a shirt because he was in only his pajama bottoms. Of course. He'd been asleep. Unlike Godric, most teachers actually slept at night so barging in on them was more then a minor inconvenience. Fisher had not thought about that. Still, he was here, and since Nox had answered the door he was prepared to deal with someone interrupting his night.
"He didn't take it well," Fisher began, jumping right to it. Nox would know what he meant- Rez hadn't taken the news of Dizzy's death well at all. In fact he'd kind of gone off the deep end from it. "So, um... I mean I knew he'd freak out and stuff, and that made me think, um... how are you?"
---
With Fisher inside, Nox shut the door and headed in the direction of the kitchen, flipping on a light as he did so. "I assumed as much. I know he and Dizzy were close. Are you here... because he needed some time alone?" Nox asked, unsure why Fisher had come at this hour. The young man had not been eager to open up or accept Nox's help in the past, though things seemed to have improved between them recently.
But then Fisher asked how Nox was doing. The demon frowned and opened the refrigerator. One might have thought he was going to grab a beer or some other alcoholic substance, but instead, he got out a baby bottle. Luc woke up in the middle of the night a lot. Nox figured it was because the baby missed his mother. Wanting to be prepared, because it was approaching that time, Nox decided he may as well use this chat time wisely and get the bottle warmed up a bit. "I've been better," he said with a sigh. "There's been far too much tragedy on campus this year... especially in the last few weeks."
---
Fisher expected some kind of bottle to emerge from the fridge, but not the one that Nox pulled out. Wrinkling his nose, the medium paced through the living room, looking at the objects in clearer light. He'd forgotten that Nox had a baby now. Well, kind of. Hopefully it wouldn't wake up.
Finally he wandered into the kitchen, satisfied with what he'd seen in the place. Hopping up onto the counter, Fisher curled his fingers over the edge, letting his boots swing. "Yeah," he agreed to Nox's statement. Truthfully, he didn't know any different of the school. Maybe it had always been like this, insane and tragic and painful. Maybe everywhere was like that. "I know you knew her, though. I mean like, outside classes. So I wondered if you were alright. You told me not to worry but I said I would anyway. So." He looked up at Nox through the hair draping over his face, smiling a little, though the smile wasn't genuine. "Just checking up on ya."
---
Nox began to warm some water on the stove so he could heat the bottle. As he waited, he returned to the fridge, allowing Fisher to do a bit of snooping. Nox didn't really understand the curiosity, but it seemed every student who visited his apartment was determined to have a look around. His decor was quite bland. Nox liked simplicity, clean lines, and kept his home very tidy and free of clutter. He did have a great deal of books on the shelves though, and there was a scattering of family photos.
Fisher returned as Nox pulled out two bottles of Sapporo beer. He ripped the cap off one with his hand and offered the bottle to Fisher, "Care for a drink?" It looked like Fisher could use it. While Nox realized giving alcohol to a drug addict might no be the best idea in the world, he hoped the offering might help improve their relationship and make Fisher more likely to come to Nox for help in the future.
"Dizzy and I talked a lot. We argued a lot too. But.." he didn't finish his thought, instead, Nox opened the other bottle of beer and took a drink.
---
A part of Fisher had expected to be repirmanded for sitting on the counter, and he was a bit disappointed when Nox did not scold him. Still, he was being given beer, and that more then made up for it. Even though Fisher didn't drink beer, in fact hated it, he took it anyway. It wasn't whiskey, but it was something. "Naughty boy," he teased, a hint of flirt in his voice as he took a sip. "Giving beer to an alcoholic. You're an enabler."
Drinking down the decayed wheat, essentially what beer was (or at least what Fisher thought it tasted like), he listened to Nox, really listened. He could be very good for support when he wanted to be. Nox didn't need to finish the sentence. Fisher understood. "You like the tough ones," he said simply. "The ones that don't make it easy for you. Feeds your hero complex. The more impossible they are, the more triumphant the victory when you finally gain their trust. The more... useful you feel." He took another sip, not looking to Nox for confirmation if this was true or not. That was just how hero complexes worked, and Nox sure as hell had one.
---
"Everyone deserves a break sometimes," Nox said with a shrug. Misery liked company, and Nox didn't want to drink alone. That wasn't his style.
Nox couldn't formulate an argument against what Fisher was saying. The medium was correct. Nox did have a hero complex, and he'd made a habit since birth of trying to help those who needed it most and wanted it the least. Case in point: Hesper. She was the complete opposite of Nox and always getting into trouble, though these days she was good at getting out of it as well. But growing up beside her had shaped the sort of man Nox would become. His bloodline as a whole made him like this. The Alekos men were protectors, all of them. It was bred into them. "I feel like I failed her," he admitted softly, setting the beer down on the counter and finally placing the baby bottle in the warm water on the stove.
---
Nox was definitely not going to like hearing what Fisher told him, but somebody had to. Nox was too hard on himself and he knew it, everyone knew it. It wasn't like anyone could ever say anything that might make him feel better. "You didn't fail her," Fisher said softly, after a moment. "You couldn't fail her because you couldn't save her. She's not... it's not as easy as just making someone feel better." Sipping his beer, the discomfort on the subject was obvious in the medium's posture, in the way his eyes didn't look anywhere near Nox, how he fidgeted. It was a topic hitting very close to home. Fisher wasn't blind to the similarities between himself and the now deceased girl.
"Drugs weren't... they were never going to fix anything. She knew that. It wasn't about fixing it. It was about escaping it. And you can't escape shit that's in your head, so you... she just made it easier to deal with. And it is. Easier. If you can't think then you..." He trailed off. Nox wouldn't understand, he couldn't. He couldn't possibly know self loathing and fear so great that the thought of death did not deter you from seeking solace. Taking a long drink, Fisher held back emotion as it threatened to crack his blank expression. Nox was always strong, and he needed someone else strong for once, and while it was damn unlikely, Fisher was going to try and be that for him, at least right now. "She couldn't be saved. It's not something you can ever understand, or get over, or accept, but... it's that simple."
---
"I could have done more," Nox insisted, unwilling to listen to Fisher's well reasoned argument. This was one of those few times when Nox and logic did not get along. The retired police detective was convinced he could save anyone if he worked hard enough. At the very least, he could ensure justice was served. In Dizzy's case, 'justice' would involve a proper funeral, hopefully with her brother in attendance. Nox didn't know how long it would take him to find the man, or if he'd want to attend his sister's funeral, but Nox had to try.
Nox fixed his eyes on Fisher's. The stare was intense and unwavering, as though Nox refused to let Fisher look away from him. "Everyone can be saved, Fisher. But you have to want it."
---
With a small sigh, Fisher nodded just a little. Not in agreement, but in understanding. There would be no talking to Nox about this, at least not in a way that the man would ever understand. Because he couldn't understand the word "futile". Fisher knew a lost cause when he saw one, and he saw one in Dizzy. He understood her. He kind of liked her, truthfully, despite her annoying smugness from being so damn right all the time.
The look in Nox's eyes was hard, direct, poignant. Fisher got the meaning completely. He didn't look away, although he wanted to, because he needed to make a point of his own. "Maybe they can," he agreed, swirling the contents in his beer bottle. "But obviously she didn't want to be." Nox had said himself time and again, you could only help someone if they truly wanted it. The trouble with junkies was getting them to want it. There were plenty of people who would have helped Dizzy, plenty who would help Fisher. That didn't mean either of them could accept it.
---
Breaking eye contact, Nox shook his head and took a large swig from his beer. The amber colored liquid slid slowly down his throat as he thought about all his previous encounters with Dizzy. The one thing that really stood out in his mind was her smile. He'd not seen a genuine smile on Dizzy's face more than two or three times, but it was beautiful. She was a beautiful girl and so very smart. She could have done anything. Nox would have helped her do anything. He was mad at her for not letting him.
Nox glanced toward Fisher again. "Do you want help?" he asked directly. "I'd like to know if I'm going to have to plan your funeral as well."
---
The direct question caught Fisher off guard, and to stall he polished off his beer. Truthfully, no. He didn't want help. He wanted to be left alone to rot or thrive or do whatever it as he would do. But he also knew that telling this to Nox would really hurt the man, would cause a lot of damage. Nox's whole life was based on helping others. If he couldn't do that, he would shrivel and wither away. That was a really heartbreaking notion. But if Fisher said yes, that he wanted help, Nox would be relentless, never let him alone.
"Lyle would plan my funeral," he said finally, avoiding the question altogether. "At least, I hope so. Not that I plan to die anytime soon." Placing the empty bottle on the counter beside him, he stared down at the floor, hair draping around his face like a protective curtain.
---
Fisher's answer, which wasn't much of one, didn't lead to reassurance. Nox frowned and avoided responding. He wasn't in the mood to deliver a lecture right now. And besides, the bottle was warm. Nox pulled it out of the pan of water, checked the temperature, and left the kitchen without a word. Maybe Fisher would leave, maybe Nox hoped he would. This conversation was only making Nox feel worse.
He crept slowly into the bedroom and over toward the bassinet. Luc was still sleeping, but he appeared restless. It was only a matter of time before he woke up screaming, so Nox quickly scooped him up and carried him out of the bedroom, careful not to wake Belle. Heading into the living room now, Nox took a seat on the sofa, cradling Luc as the little boy stirred to consciousness. Before he had a chance to start crying, a bottle was in his mouth.
---
While Fisher was waiting for a response, because he assumed every time was a good time for Nox to lecture, he thought a little about what the shadow demon had said. Everyone could he helped, if they wanted it. And maybe Fisher did want it. But he didn't think he deserved it. He knew he was a waste of space, as far as people went. He had accomplished nothing in his life and while plenty of people cared for him, how much easier would their lives be if he was gone? But seeing Nox now, how torn up he was over Dizzy being gone... maybe she had thought the same thing about herself. And obviously she'd been wrong.
The medium was stirred from his reverie as Nox suddenly walked off, disappearing into a bedroom. Fisher blinked. Evidently, the conversation was over, Nox not feeling better in the slightest. This was a failed attempt in comfort. Slipping down off the counter, Fisher started across the kitchen when suddenly Nox returned, a small infant in his arms. It was small, asleep but still somehow managed to look pissed off. Fisher frowned at it, watching carefully as Nox settled on the couch, managing to keep the thing from crying.
Stepping carefully, Fisher tucked his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie, following Nox into the living room. "When did you get that?" he asked in a whisper, just in case he startled the little thing and made it start shrieking.
---
Nox's life was not easier without Dizzy in it. Everything was harder. It took a great deal of effort to simply breathe in spite of the pain. Nox already knew Fisher was a selfish person, but Nox hoped Fisher wasn't selfish enough to throw away his life with no regard for the people he'd leave behind. Would he really do that to Lyle? And what about Rez and Nox, who were already grieving one loss?
Luc's eyes popped open as he began to drink his bottle, squirming a little at first, but soon quite comfortable in Nox's arms. "Recently," was the demon's short reply. He elaborated after a moment. "Belle's friend thought she'd make a terrible mother... so she abandoned Luc with Belle. We're trying to get the woman to rethink her decision and have offered to support her."
---
Nox looked like a natural with the baby, supporting it properly, looking down on it with a quiet fondness he was probably not even aware of. Fisher remembered that look on his mom's face when Lyle had been born. And how betrayed Fisher had felt from it, because it meant his mom wasn't going to love him anymore. Of course she still had, but to an eight year old who'd been the center of someone's world for so long, it was the greatest form of abandonment.
Daring a step closer, Fisher looked down on the infant. It seemed harmless for the moment. Its tiny fists were clenched, almost readying itself for a fight. "But what if she is a terrible mother?" he wondered, still watching the baby with a cautious gaze. "What if she was right to leave it with people who could actually take care of it right?" He didn't believe for a second that just because you were a parent meant you should be a parent. James was doing okay, and there was no question that he loved Devon and vice versa, but what if James turned into someone like his father? Fisher would hope to God the man would have enough sense to drop Devon off on a doorstep and never come back.
---
Nox did love Luc, because it was impossible for a man with such a strong fraternal nature to not fall in love with a baby in his care. But it was not greater than the love Nox felt for his own daughter. While the bond between Nox and Katie had been delayed, it formed quickly, at least on Nox's side. He understood if Katie still felt hurt by his prolonged absence. The reason didn't matter, nor did it matter that she had not been abandoned, the woman had still grown up without a father and all sorts of lies regarding his absence.
"I don't know," he answered honestly. "Belle says she's a good woman. Sounds like she's just scared." It was entirely possible that Luc was better off with Belle and Nox, but they needed to at least try to reunite mother and son before exploring other options. "We'll keep Luc if things don't work out with his mother, but I'm not giving up on them just yet."
Glancing up at Fisher, Nox then looked down at the space beside him on the sofa. "You can sit. He doesn't bite. Doesn't even have teeth yet."
---
There was no way in hell Fisher was sitting next to that thing, and it showed. But he did stand in front of Nox, still far enough away in case the baby started screaming and throwing things. He didn't know how old they had to be before they could chuck things at your face, but Fisher had had enough mashed carrots and formula bottles thrown at him in his life than to take chances.
"Guess having a kid is scary." Thankfully, Fisher knew he would never have any. Once he had been ready for Devon, as ready as he could ever be, but... well that didn't matter anymore. And James had almost gotten rid of the kid himself so maybe the concept of parenting eluded everyone, and some people were just better at lying about it. Then again, Nox looked so comfortable with the kid, there was no way he was faking that. "You look like a dad," he said softly. "It's weird."
---
Nox could have guessed Fisher would reject the offer. It was plenty obvious that Fisher was not comfortable around children, and Nox knew that was part of the reason things had not worked out with James. Some people really were not meant to raise children. It was unfortunate how many people failed to realize that, had children, and then did a terrible job of raising them. Better to simply accept the lack of such instincts and go about your life never producing offspring, than to cave to societal pressures or fleeting whims and loneliness and put another messed up person on the planet.
"I am a dad," Nox said simply. "Did you forget about Katie?" Fisher's meaning was understood, but Nox still felt the need to correct the young man. Looking back to the infant, Nox confessed, "I would love to keep him... but he deserves a chance to be with his mother."
---
"She's barely a kid," Fisher retorted. "Yeah, you fathered her but... this is different. This is-" Endearing. He cleared his throat. "That one's smaller." He refused to let himself view Nox in any kind of sexual, emotional or otherwise personal way. This hero crush was getting squashed. The fact that the guy was holding a baby was a good deterrent. It forced Fisher to remain a few feet away from him.
After a moment of looking down on the pair, Fisher sat down in the armchair nearest the couch, elbows propped up on his knees and looking awkward. Instinct was to curl up, but he didn't want to put his boots on Nox's chair (he thought the obviously tidy demon would disapprove) and he didn't want to take them off, either. So instead he sat like a normal person, his slender frame barely filling the space. "So what's gonna happen now?" he asked after a moment. "With Dizzy, I mean. Is there gonna be a service for her, or is her family... gonna do something?" He didn't know her very well, though he had a feeling she didn't have family. It was sad to imagine that this place might have been all she had.
---
"I'm aware," Nox stated plainly. "Luc is an infant, and I never got to know Katie... as a child." Those last words didn't come out so well, because it hurt to say them. It was probably one of the few times Fisher would hear bitterness in Nox's voice. While a part of him would always love Katie's mom, if only because she was the mother of his only child, he doubted he'd ever get over his resentment and anger.
As the baby finished off his bottle, he fell asleep again. Luc seemed quite comfortable around Nox. He snoozed peacefully as the men in the room continued their conversation about Danielle. "I'll be handling funeral arrangements. Her family..." he paused, not sure how to be polite when speaking of them. "I'm trying to locate her brother."
---
Fisher couldn't imagine someone not wanting Nox to be in their life to help with a kid. It was obvious just looking at the guy that he was daddy material. He probably would have been awesome at it. While he didn't voice the opinion aloud, Fisher secretly hoped that Belle's friend was a shit mother and therefore Nox could keep the little person he'd obviously become so attached to.
Oddly, talking about death was easier then talking about life, at least for Fisher. He was comfortably familiar with death. Catching the reservation on Dizzy's family, Fisher guessed they were not a part of the picture. That was the case with a lot of junkies he knew. It seemed natural, when you took up the habit you lost the people closest to you. It was the price you paid for freedom, although the drugs were their own anchor. "You're a good guy for doing this," he said softly, not meeting Nox's eyes. "Not letting her end up in some potter's field as a number. They're really depressing places. Not that, y'know, cemetaries are cheery or anything, but... never seen so many dead people cry as in that place." He was being a bit vague, but Nox probably didn't want the details. There were a lot of junkies Fisher knew of who died, not that he knew any of them well. They all ended up in the same place, and every time he'd seen the field with the generic headstones lined like soldiers, he'd almost lost his mind.
---
The desire to parent played a big part in Nox's decision to teach at TJS. Here, he could help young supernaturals in need. Provide them with the support and knowledge base necessary to eventually leave and make it on their own. While most of his students and sponsorees never really thought of him as a compassionate man, let alone someone with actual feelings, he cared for all of them. In a way, they were his children.
Nodding solemnly at Fisher's words, Nox knew the man was right. It was nice to do this for Dizzy, but Nox would have done it for any one of his students or for the other staff members. It was important to honor the dead, partially because of people like Fisher. It was upsetting to think of how many ghosts roamed the earth, unable to rest because of unresolved issues from their time spent alive. "Do you... have you..." Nox started to ask, almost afraid to finish his question, because he wasn't sure he really wanted to know, but then continued because he had to know. "Have you seen Dizzy? Is she here?" The demon swallowed hard, bracing himself for whatever answer Fisher might give him.
---
From a mile away, Fisher should have seen this coming. He could almost feel the shift in Nox as he prepared himself to ask, and when he finally did the medium's shoulders dropped just slightly, in defeat. It was a valid question, one anyone would want to know when they'd lost someone. Most people were not ready for the answer, however. Looking up at Nox, Fisher could see the hesitation, the determination but not willingness to know the truth. Nox needed to know. He didn't want to. Watching his face in conflict that way was breaking the medium's heart, but his expression remained the same.
"No," he said softly. "She's not." That didn't mean that she wasn't somewhere, or that she had moved on. It just meant as far as Fisher knew, she wasn't still wandering around. Truth be told, he did not know if he could have told Nox the truth if she had been. Watching the man's face break would have been too much. Like with James, someone who'd been so strong in Fisher's eyes, seeing someone like that fall was one of the hardest things to witness. Maybe this would bring some kind of relief to Nox, knowledge that at least she was not a tortured spirit.
---
Fisher's hesitation made Nox's face contort even more. Worry was written all over it. The answer didn't change much on the outside or the inside. Even if Fisher was telling the truth, and Nox felt that he was, it didn't mean that Dizzy wasn't present and restless. Knowing Dizzy, she probably didn't want to talk to Fisher.
"I decided to go with cremation. Dizzy never mentioned any fear of fire, and she didn't seem like the sort of person who would have liked being in a box. She was a free spirit." Question was, where to scatter her ashes?
---
For once, Nox was the one abruptly changing topics. It was a nice change to feel strong. Fisher was usually the stronger person when it came to death, because the dead never really left him. He was comfortable with it, unafraid of it, didn't despreately try to postpone it. It was just another stage of life, like puberty and getting your first job. It just changed circumstance a bit.
"I think it's fitting," he said quietly. "She's really lucky to have you." Fisher didn't often use past tense when speaking of the deceased. Sometimes it did not apply. Especially when the hurt for people was so raw and new, acting like the dead was actually gone only made things worse. "What did you like best about her?" Maybe talking about her would help. Nox needed help, despite what he might think. And Fisher wasn't sleeping tonight anyway.
---
Fisher was comfortable with death in the same way that Nox was comfortable with Hell. When you understood something, had first hand knowledge of it, there was really nothing to fear. Nox didn't want to go back to Hell, but that was a bit like any adult saying they didn't want to go back to living with their parents.
"I know you're trying to help, Fisher, but you're not. I do appreciate the effort." Nox felt he needed to add that in there. This was all still very raw, and the only reason Nox was handling it as well as he was, was because he'd experienced a lot of death in his life, and because he was a strong person in general. He'd shed his tears already, now he had to move forward and focus on the funeral.
---
For the briefest of moments, some kind of emotion played on the medium's face. But it was instantly swallowed up in his impressive ability to lie like a professional. Nox might know he was covering up, but he woudn't know what he was covering, and that's what mattered. Fisher nodded, as though accepting that maybe this was just a bad time. Getting to his feet, he shrugged. "I should leave you to your... kid, I guess." He nodded toward the kitchen. "Thanks. For the beer, I mean." Without waiting for further reply, Fisher turned and headed back to the front door, walking quickly enough to not make it prolonged but not so fast Nox would think he was trying to escape.
Which, he was. He felt stupid. He should just not bother trying to help, because he never seemed to be able to help. He always made things worse, said the wrong thing. It was like his best efforts were just too far below what counted. Turning the doorknob slowly, Fisher stepped out into the hallway, moving quietly so as not to wake the infant. Last thing he wanted was to make this night even worse for Nox with a screaming baby.
---
Nox started to protest, "You don't have to.." leave. But the scrawny medium was too fast. He slipped out the door before Nox could tell him he was welcome to stay. Understanding now that Fisher really had come to Nox's apartment to check on his sponsor, not because he needed help himself, Nox felt bad that he'd been truthful in saying the 'help' wasn't working.
Sighing, Nox got up from the sofa, making a quick stop in the kitchen to set the empty bottle in the sink, before heading back to the bedroom. He gently placed the baby back in the bassinet, before climbing into his own bed to rejoin Belle. As his arms slipped around the woman, Nox thought about all his regrets and hoped he wouldn't screw up anything else in his life. He wanted his relationship with Belle to work. He wanted to provide a happy life for Luc, in whatever way he could. He wanted Fisher to realize his existence mattered. Maybe Nox wanted too much.