I'm in the autumn of my years

[panspermia]

Who: Greg Universe and any Rescuers
What: who's this asshole
When: June 18
Where: The Rescuers' ship
Warnings: trauma and PTSD

If Greg has a reaction to entering a massive alien guitar spaceship, he keeps it to himself. Between the drama of the ritual, the return of his maimed soul, and his haphazard rescue, he simply has too much to process first before he can take in the rest of the rescuer operation. As a result, first thing he does is find a small, empty room--a bathroom--and ask to be left alone for a while.

An hour or so later, a very different man emerges again.

It hadn't been his first intention in locking himself in that room, but the longer he'd been in there, the more necessary it had felt. Greg hasn't felt like himself in a very long time. The worst of it was the result of Blanche's meddling with his soul, yes, but it extended before that point as well. The face of his youth, the one Blanche used and tried to make into a different person altogether... Greg couldn't keep looking at that face anymore. It hurt too much, made him too sick. Adding a few years on to his appearance and a beard isn't going to fix it, either; he's not the same person he used to be, either. (After all, he did keep the hair.) But this is better, closer than before. Whoever he is now, this is about as close as he's willing to get.

Greg Universe emerges into the ship, avoiding eye contact, and finally begins to take things in.

Comments

[panspermia]

For his part, Greg didn't bother holding his tears back. Seeing her again, truly seeing her, was too great a relief to bother holding anything at all back.

"Oh god. I can't... I don't know how we spent so long apart." That cold indifference he'd held for those weeks clawed at his memory, full of shame and regret. "I'm so sorry, Meril."

[nibelungvalesti]

"That was not you. I know, because Greg Universe would never have behaved that way. And neither would I."

She lifted a hand up to the back of his head, pulling him down as she hauled herself up to plant a kiss on him. This was much easier, she noted, if she was willing to fly. And that was the only thought she had space in her head for before she lost herself to the kiss and the fierce need she felt for that contact.

[panspermia]

He wants to apologize again--this is his fault, after all, if it hadn't been for him Blanche would never have brought her into this, he could have...

She kisses him, as fiercely and passionately as she ever has, and it pushes the thought from his mind. She doesn't care about that. Of course she doesn't. Blanche is the one who took this from them, and all that matters is they have it back now.

Greg kisses her back without apology, all embrace and reclaiming what they'd lost, and reveling in their return. Now, more than ever, Greg wonders how he could be so lucky to be here with her.

[nibelungvalesti]

Because he was Greg Universe.

That was all.

By the time their kiss broke, Greg might find himself a few inches off the ground thanks to her grip and her completely inability to focus. No sooner did she realize than she let him down with a slight tinge of red to her cheeks.

"Do you feel all right?" Everything he'd been through in the past weeks, culminating in the reversion of physical changes, can't have been easy on him. Belatedly it occurred to her she might be undoing some work by downright manhandling him.

[panspermia]

His feet touch the floor again, but he could still be floating for all he cared. How could he have forgotten how this felt?

Her question, however, does a slightly better job bringing him back to earth. His older face does a better job showing how tired he feels.

"I'm not sure. All the things I said, the way I acted... that might not have really been me, but I..." He shivers, feeling ill again. Her warmth can't cut through all of the chill. "It's hard to have that person inside me."

[nibelungvalesti]

She lifted a finger to his lips, to stop that train of thought before it could sink any deeper into it.

"You do not," she said, looking into his eyes as if she could stare straight into his soul. To a certain extent, she could, after all. "That was who you are when you were removed, after all. You cannot be that person so long as you are yourself."

[panspermia]

He smiles, faintly, and takes her raised hand in his.

"I...I know." Logically, anyway. It's harder to truly believe when all the memories are fresh and present. "I... Blanche used someone with my face and voice to hurt people. Maybe he wasn't me, but... people don't know that." He holds her hand tight. "I want to make things right."

[nibelungvalesti]

"We will." Her only grounds for confidence were faith in him and a determination of her own. But she thought that would be enough. "We are in the right place to begin doing so, and among the right people."

[panspermia]

Greg gives a firm nod in response. When she says it with such complete certainty, how can he possibly doubt her? "What about you? How are you feeling?"

[nibelungvalesti]

Funny. She hadn't stopped to consider that question since the moment they'd gotten here. The moment she took to think about it, eyes wandering up and to the left as she assessed herself, said a great deal about her state.

"Dirty," she finally concluded.

[panspermia]

Another time, Greg would have taken that opening to make a sly little joke. Now, he instead squeezes her hands. He relates to the feeling perfectly well.

"Hey. At least it's not stained."

[nibelungvalesti]

"It will take a while to feel clean. I know you understand." She returned the squeeze gently, leaning into him a little more. "Although I do think I probably should bathe, after getting in a fight... that might help more than I expect."

[panspermia]

"Yeah..." His thoughts slip back to the memory of the fight. He'd only caught glimpses of her in action through the chaos, but what he'd seen had been... it left an impression.

He shakes the image away, and starts shuffling down the hall, hand still in hers. "Wwwell, let's hope this is the kind of space ship that bothers with showers."

[nibelungvalesti]

"I will be extremely disappointed if it is some weird chemical chamber," she said, her hand small and strong in his. As serious as she was about that statement, just being with Greg again, being sane and able to appreciate him again, brought a lightness to her heart. "How strange is it for us to be on a ship like this, after all our music?"

[panspermia]

"Like it jumped right off the music pages, huh?" It's an idle comment, lacking his usual awe. "Though, I guess that sort of thing's been happening a lot lately." Reality and fantasy have blurred ever since he learned his magic. Even with his soul returned, nothing has felt truly real. It's her hand, and her warmth, that keeps him grounded.

[nibelungvalesti]

"Do you.... remember your history, now?" Hints, he had in spades, she knew -- how else could he have come to accept Steven, as confusing as that circumstance was? But she wanted to hear his whole story, if he could tell it. Especially as it related to their music. And especially as it related to the woman who came before.

[panspermia]

"Most of it, I think." Greg looks to her a moment, uncertain, but a glance lets him know how it's all right. She wants to hear. He chews his lip, briefly, and then nods.

"It's still kinda hazy, the further back I go. I think it's because a lot of it is the same as the fake stuff they made up for me. I was touring as a one-man band, I don't think I'd seen my family in..." He shakes it off. Dwelling on that part of it too long makes it harder to tell what's real and what isn't. That's not what Meril wants to hear about.

"But, then Rose showed up at my concert. She was the only one there, but... I guess... she was the only audience I needed." His pace slows, and he holds Meril's hand tight. This is strange to talk about with her, for a lot of reasons, but she ought to know. "I pretty much gave up music after that. Professionally, anyway. Me and Rose were always together after that point, up until Steven was born."

[nibelungvalesti]

"Your dream girl," she said, remembering the images he'd drawn and the songs he'd written around them months ago. A lifetime ago, when everything had made sense and they could have foreseen none of this. Not the lies and the disaster... but not the good things either, she mentally added with a little squeeze of his hand. No jealousy here, not when everything that had been through made that so irrational as to be impossible. "It is very hard to imagine you giving up music though."

[panspermia]

"Yeah." His smile is distant, wistful. It's so strange that he could have ever forgotten her, and what she meant to him. What she meant to everyone.

Her second comment reminds him of the present, however, and the grin turns wry. "Ahh, well, not completely. Always had my guitar on hand, taught a few lessons to local kids, you know. Just got downgraded from a job to a hobby." He chews his cheek. "Seems now like that was the right way to go."

[nibelungvalesti]

"Set aside everything that happened and you were a magnificent performer, Greg. By your very nature." His skill had appealed, she admitted that, but far less so than his sincerity, his love of the music, his accord with the fans. All of that came from within; it had not been constructed for him.

"I would like to hear about her, if you are willing to tell me. I know it might be hard. But you at least should not worry about me; I am not jealous." She lifted her free hand to sanctify the statement as a vow. How could she be?

[panspermia]

"Yeah...? I guess it's... good to know." Greg stands by his decision--he would never have come back to this world short of brainwashing and slavery. It's still sort of nice to know that he was capable of success.

Greg smiles at Meril, soft and tired, and hesitates for a moment longer--simply because it's so hard to know where to begin.

"Rose... she was... she was so kind, and curious. She'd been living with humans for thousands of years, but she was always eager to learn more." He closes his eyes. "She found beauty in the smallest things. After crossing galaxies and fighting in wars... she had so much love for life, and everything alive."

[nibelungvalesti]

"I do not know if I ever would have understood that, before all this. I think, now, I know exactly how she felt."

Her bindings had shattered, her memories had returned -- and in this case, she did not mean the ones that coming here had suppressed. No longer a mere tool, her empathy and compassion had returned. Odin would be... displeased.

"I am beginning to suspect you have a type, Greg."

[panspermia]

He smiles, and wipes at an eye. "You might be right. I can't say no to a woman who fights so hard to protect what she loves."

Greg turns to her, brow faintly furrowed. "When we first got together... I barely remembered anything about her. I thought the two of you couldn't be less alike." Neither of them knew of Meril's origins by that point, but there was far more to it than that.

[nibelungvalesti]

"At that time you were right. If not for everything that had happened..." Her free hand went to her chest, pressing over her heart. It hurt, at the thought. "I am, after all, a goddess who governs fate and death. Empathy is... not a trait I am supposed to have. Even before I came here, I did not remember my past, the time I spent in a mortal shell while waiting to be called to serve."

[panspermia]

His free hand brushes back some of her silvery hair, studying her face. "Criminy. And here I am, thinking how much I've changed from before all this started." He can't hold a candle to how she must be feeling. "They took so much away from us, but... you got something pretty incredible back."