TITLE: Echoes
E-MAIL: eli @ popullus.net
ARCHIVE: Ask, please.
SUMMARY: When was the last time he had his head to himself?
RATING: PG
POSTED: Dec. 12, 2002
STORY NOTES: Just after John Quixote. Almost completely unbeta'd. This is one of those "it just sort of...happened" fics.
DISCLAIMER: None of it belongs to me, I'm just trying to make sense out of it. Read.
Hello-llo-o...
The word echoes in the hole in the corner of John's mind. He can't stop playing with that hole, poking at it. Testing out different pitches. Seeing how many times he can make the echo bounce. Scales are too complicated. The "doe" gets caught up in the "re," which trips over the "mi," and they make an awful mess.
But a simple holler works just fine.
They should be happy, bouncy echoes. They're proof that he is his own man again. In his right mind. But they're not. They just fade. He's used to getting an answer.
There are no cracks to stare at in the ceiling. No fluffy clouds to turn into mystical creatures. No answers. Lying back clears the crap out though. Better spiritual energy flow or something.
When was the last time he had his head to himself?
Harvey signed the initial sublease on his brainwaves while John was sitting in that chair, so afraid of what was being taken out that he didn't even think of something being put in. That's the scientific fact, and lord knows, you've got get those in order.
But when did Harvey start hanging curtains and making himself at home? Because now that he's gone the smallest sound sets off echoes. The space refuses to be filled, even though John's got plenty to fill it with. Is it Harvey, in absentia, guarding his territory?
John pushes himself up. Is that possible? A ghost of a ghost, haunting his head. Maybe he's gone from Harvey to true Invisible Man.
He misses the little parasite. That's what Harvey had been. A parasite, living off John's memories. Although the sight of him in that Hawaiian shirt he liked so much had been worth the price of admission. Harvey loved the sun and the women. Who could blame him?
When had he stopped thinking of it as Harvey butting his way into every thought he'd rather keep private? When had he started relying on Jiminy the Twisted Cricket's advice?
John drops his head into his hands. It doesn't matter, does it? He's gone. Scorpy, through the goodness of his black and shriveled heart, took Harvey away. And it's not another mind-trick. Harvey is MIA, gone, dead. There's no maybes. John has been looking for him, chasing the dust bunnies through his head to make sure Harvey's not hiding in a corner, ready to pop out with some cockeyed advice.
He could use some advice right about now.
John reaches down under the bunk, fingers sliding along the ridges until they find the box. He pulls it out.
He doesn't need what's inside for Harvey. It silences the pain, puts a comfy buffer between him and the emotional bumps and bruises that he's tired of getting. And although he had been responsible for plenty in his time, Harvey can't hurt him like that now. No, those little capsules are for another.
"Hey, you okay?"
John looks up. Chiana's hair is in her eyes again, but they're sharp enough to see things he'd rather she didn't. He puts the box down on his bunk as he rises and crosses to her. She's still got shadows in her eyes.
"I'm fine." He reaches up to brush her hair back and expose the shadows to the light. They shift, but they don't leave as she watches him. "How are you doing? Any more flashes?"
"Naw. Nothing interesting enough." Her smile is real, and brings out his own.
"Not often we can say that. Take advantage of it while it lasts."
"Is that what you were doing?"
While he drops his hand, John keeps his eyes on hers. He doesn't glance at the box on the bed, even though he can hear it, taunting him.
"Just thinking some things over."
He moves to step past her into the corridor, but she moves with him. Someone else, he'd glare at or push out of the way. Chiana, he takes a step back.
"What?"
"You think too much."
His brows go up. "Been a while since I've been accused of something so heinous. Think it'll go on my permanent record?"
She scowls, but her lips twitch. "You've been quiet. That means you're thinking. And that usually leads to trouble."
She's right about that, John admits. But lately it's been trouble for himself. Before he can say anything, Chiana moves in and slides her arm around his waist, snuggles her head against his arm. Feeling the contact, the warmth, his own arm circles her shoulders and he lets her support him for a moment.
"Want to think out loud for a while?"
He looks down at the top of her head. White strands of hair move and fall back into place as his breath stirs them.
"Think you can handle what's in my head?" He shakes it. "You have enough trouble handling what's in yours."
She pulls back a little to look up at him. "You've got less in there than you used to."
He shouldn't underestimate her, he knows that. Where is she going with this? She leans back in.
"Why'd you let Scorpius take the neural clone out of your head?"
John stiffens, but her arms lock around him and won't let him step back. Yeah, he should never underestimate Chi. He could force her to let him go, but he can't make his hands move to grip. Resigning himself, he frowns.
"How did you know about that?"
"Sikozu wanted to know. She came to me, so she must've really wanted to know." Even with the hold, Chiana manages to shrug. "You never mentioned it."
No, he hasn't. Is this a lucky guess, or good timing? He pulls her arm away and takes hold, keeps her at arms length.
"No reason I should mention it. Harvey was there, now he's not. No biggie." He can't meet her eyes.
"Yeah, right." She cocks her head. "How come? I'd have thought you'd be celebrating."
He lets go of her and moves back over to the bunk, needing more than just space. Without thinking, he scoops up the box, turns it over in his hands. Taking the easy way out? The taunting voice in his head now is his own, and he can feel her eyes on him as he slides the box onto the table.
"Been too busy to celebrate." He turns back to her and starts toward the door again. She steps back, but there's an unsettling look in her eyes as she follows him out into the corridor.
"Right. Well, since you're so busy, maybe you don't have time to make a run with me either."
"Run? Where?"
"This commerce planet. D'Argo's decided we need more supplies." She smirks. "No biggie."
He's not thrilled to have his words thrown back at him as she fishes for a reaction. And he's not going to satisfy her.
"Let me check my calendar."
"You do that." He narrows his eyes as she turns off toward the bay. "I'll go get the transport pod ready. You find you've got the time, you come on over." She doesn't check over her shoulder when she saunters off.
Maybe it is time to get off this boat for a while. Never thought he'd say that, just weekens after finding Moya again. But there's too many people around right now. Some alone time with Chi may be just the thing to clear all the echoes out of his head.
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