trans_9 | Freedom's Apparently All I Need [Semi-Open, Bendytimed to End of Shore Leave]

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Freedom's Apparently All I Need [Semi-Open, Bendytimed to End of Shore Leave]

He's got his passport.

He's also got a fake birth certificate, a fake ID card, a fake driver's license and insurance card, and hopes for a brand new life. And he has the same for Orc. That and a suitcase for each of them.

He has to leave the cats. That is, he thinks, the only downfall to the planet. You can't import live things, and he doesn't know how to smuggle them in, so he's going to entrust them to Cedric. Between that and the food stash, the knowledge that he's leaving things behind, things that he'll never get back, hangs heavy on his mind.

He's leaving people behind too. He can't forget that. He wanders through the streets of Agrestic with his new papers and his suitcase looking for the people he wants to say goodbye to before he and Orc escape this war forever. He's not even thinking about what he's going to say to them, hoping that somehow the magic words will appear on his tongue. But he has to say goodbye before he goes.

Away from the Daligig. Away from Stacy. Away from missions and more importantly, away from the threat of the FAYZ. Scared and sad as he is, there is a little skip in his step.

[OOC: he's looking for his closer CR, so new people may approach him but he'll probably brush them off. If your character hasn't met Howard and would like to thread with me drop me a line and I'll set up something new!]

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"They were...well, Zou knows I can take care of myself. I think Ian needs a little convincing, so put a good word in with him for me about my ability to handle the world like an adult."

Howard's fairly oblivious to the fact that Barbara feels like Howard needs more positive adult interference in his life. He hasn't picked up on her attempts to mother him. But he does catch the way she looks almost disappointed that he's leaving. "If you didn't know I was going, what's the cake for?"

He stares at the cake like he's psyching himself up to eat it. Not because it doesn't look appetizing - far from, his mouth is watering - but because he knows he'll have to concentrate on eating bite-sized forkfuls. Might as well start with the naturally bite-sized; he pops the strawberry into his mouth and swallows it so fast he might as well be inhaling it.

"You brought me tea and I thought I should return the favor," she shrugged and did little else than poke at her cake with the fork.

"I will still miss you," Barbara told him as she ate some of the crumbs which had stuck to the fork.

"Yeah, but that was apology tea. For being a jerk. Aren't you going to eat yours?" The thought crosses his mind that she's not eating much because it's poison, then the realistic, not-freakishly-paranoid rest of his brain kicks in and he tucks into the cake anyway.

After he's gone through the slice and licked up every crumb on his plate, he bites his lip as if he's about to say something but doesn't know how. He's certainly not about to admit, even to himself, that she's encroaching on the mother role in his life. Or even just friend. He can't articulate that he'll miss her too.

"I'll think about you when I read books," he settles on.

She smiled lightly and ate a mouthful of cake. "Think of this as acceptance cake because I accepted your apology tea."

Barbara had to think of what to say. A part of her wanted to beg Howard to stay, because all of her instincts were telling her that staying on this planet wasn't safe...but another part knew that it wasn't necessarily safe on the spaceship, either. She could convince herself that she'd protect Howard and keep him safe but it was clear that he put everything into standing on his own two feet.

"Only good things, I hope and not report or essay related things," she joked.

"Okay. Thanks."

He laughs. "No, not that sort of thing. I probably won't be doing any of that anyway. I mean, the one good thing the FAYZ did was make it so I didn't have to go to school anymore, so why would I want to change that lucky break?"

He is aware that he's talking to a teacher, but he's not about to pretend he's going to go off to study. "Besides, if I'm supporting me and Orc I won't have time for any kind of school anyway."

She chuckled along with Howard's laughter and nibbled at another piece of cake. Barbara still didn't feel much like eating now that she knew Howard was leaving.

"Who's Orc?" she asked curiously, not having heard about about him (or her) before more.

It suddenly strikes Howard that this is so different than back home, and not just because of the location. He's changed. He used to define himself entirely by being Orc's best friend, because it gave him a sense of power and a feeling of being needed, and it gave people something to remember about him, but that hasn't been the case on Stacy. He spent more than half a year without Orc before they were reunited and somewhere in there, he became his own person.

"He's my best friend. And he needs me. That's my job, taking care of him." He eyes the cake, as if not sure whether he can ask for another slice. Barbara still looks so disappointed - he didn't mean to take the wind out of her sails like that. There's a part of him, too, that gets some satisfaction out of knowing that there is someone else on the ship who does care about him. "I think Ian met him."

Barbara caught the glance at the remainder of her cake and fingered the plate it sat upon before pushing the entire thing toward Howard.

"It's rather noble of you to stick so close to Orc and look after him," she had another bite of her own slice, covering her mouth with a hand as she licked some of the chocolate which had smeared around her mouth. "Did you know him before everything happened?"

He shakes his head. "It's not noble." And it's reads all over his face - instead of noble it's pathetic and sad, to feel so bound to someone that you let them abuse you and do everything you can for them in the vain hopes of getting a little affection back. And to come up short of being worth that, again and again, despite your best efforts. But he's been told to just accept compliments as they are, instead of arguing them, so he tucks back into the cake instead.

He's halfway demolished the remaining cake before he remembers that Barbara had wanted to give it to everyone else too. A little late for that now. "Sorry." But he doesn't stop eating. "And yeah, me and him go way back. We're all each other had, back in the FAYZ. That's why we have to stick together, you know?"

He wonders if that's why Ian and Barbara click so well, displaced in time and kidnapped by a crazy alien in a box.

Because all that Barbara had gotten from what Howard had said was that he looked after a friend in need, the look was unexpected. Sometimes she wished that Howard's skull had a hinge, or a door so that she could open it and see into his mind, what he was thinking or feeling.

But that was a little vulgar.

"How did you meet him?"

You really don't want to go there, Barbara. It's a dark and scary place full of crossed wires and contraindications and warring impulses.

"School. I did his homework for him and he kept the other kids off my back. We just worked good." He shrugs. "I'm not really good at making friends, you know?"

Surely Barbara would have picked up on that by now. She's picked up on the paranoia just fine.

She nodded, having seen the same and similar in the past. It was, of course, supposed to be the teacher's duty to put a stop to it so that everyone was completing their homework and learning. Barbara thought so too, once upon a time.

"We all have our ways," said the school teacher who found her only friend in a science teacher for the first few months of her last teaching gig. And she had noticed that Howard was the most closed off out of everyone she'd met on Stacey (and those she'd known previously). "At least you've got someone you can call a best friend. It would be an awful lot worse if you hadn't. On or off Stacey."

"Yeah, I know. Any friend is better than none." He polishes off the cake, eating up even the crumbs. It's not so much that he's hungry, although the cake is delicious, so much as the desire to not waste a single bite. "That's the roughest part about this, you know? I'm finally finding my feet with people and now I got to leave."

But he knows staying's dangerous. Even more so if they restore their worlds.

And yet, how long has he known Barbara? Two months at best? Two months with rocky patches, certainly but he's connected with her much more quickly than he has people in the past, Ian too, so either that says mountains about their approachability or he actually has been coming out of his shell.

He's not sure he likes the idea of leaving his shell.

"You could always stay," she shrugged, "the universe as a whole doesn't sound terribly safe at the moment." With the Ohm and the Daleks and most likely a whole host of other things she's never heard of in her life before...

"You weren't here as long as I been here. I'd rather risk the Ohm than what Stacy has up her sleeve. Or the Daligig. I've nearly died on more of Stacy's missions than I even ever did back home, and that's saying a lot, and the Daligig'll break your legs for looking at you funny." He folds his hands. "Be careful, Barbara. Okay? It's dangerous here."

"I will promise to be careful if you'll do one thing for me," Barbara said and stood by Howard's chair. She held her arms open and smiled warmly, tentatively, showing a hint more of that motherly affection she had for him. Barbara was well aware, however that with Howard's tendency to deflect other people that this could all blow up in her face.

But she wanted to try.

"I know you're not much of a lovey dovey person but I may never see you again," she told him calmly. "I won't steal anything from you, or try to kiss you, or anything like that. I only want a small hug."

Howard hesitates, like he's not even entirely sure what Barbara's doing at first. She's not his mother, and he doesn't think of her as such, but that was the last person who spread their arms open and expected an embrace from him. Over two years ago.

"Okay."

He hasn't told Barbara, or anyone, one of the primary reasons he's chosen now to leave. He's gotten too close to too many people, and that terrifies him. Better leave now, while he can still manage it, and cut his losses before these people leave him too.

And these people include Barbara. He's not sure how that happened, after he made efforts to push her away (and redoubled his efforts in the wake of the Rory fiasco), but she's made it to his inner circle. That terrifying, awful inner circle of people he doesn't want to lose.

He stands up and hugs her back, then clings for a bit because he's in tears.

There was a feeling of elation when Howard hadn't rejected her. Her arms wrapped gently, around his back and she smiled.

Barbara had expected something light, barely touching and incredibly brief. She knew he wasn't the kind of person for affection. His walls were too thick and high. But he clung to her, like someone full of some kind of desperation or a great sadness. Her arms secured around him a little more, and she rested her cheek on the top of his head for a moment.

She was there to provide anything she could offer him. Anything at all. She'd have given him her jacket if she were wearing one. "Howard," she hazarded, lifting her head to try and see what was going on. "What's the matter?"

He can't put words to it. He gets scared when people get close and does what he can to push them out. Usually he doesn't succeed, but that's what leaving for Agrestic means - successfully severing the bonds. He's not self-aware enough to know that this feeling of defeat is him letting fear win where it matters.

Instead he lowers his head and stares at the floor so she just sees the top of his head. And, reluctantly, lets go and pulls his arms in close to himself.

"I'm okay." He takes a deep breath. "I just haven't been hugged like that for a while. Since my mom."

He can't help but say that last word with a hint of venom, but he hopes Barbara knows he's not lumping her with his mother. At least, not intentionally. It's easier to sound bitter than to sound sad about it.

"You're the first adult that didn't ditch me, I mean, you and Ian." Zouichi doesn't count, Zouichi's a year old. "Instead I'm ditching you."

She smiled gently because there was little else she could do. Asking about his mother wouldn't have been the best decision for the moment, certainly not if he was about to set off on a new planet and a new life.

"I don't know why we'd ditch you," Barbara told him simply, folding her hands in front of her. "I don't know why anyone would ditch you."

He shrugs. He can't take Barbara's assertion that she wouldn't leave seriously, mostly because no one ever advertises it, and it might be that no one ever really plans it. Relationships just end, even the ones people think will last forever. "They don't want to break the combo, maybe? It's just something that always happens."

Barbara still didn't exactly believe what Howard said. There had to be someone who hadn't deserted him, or there will be someone who'll stay by him through everything.

"Maybe if you stayed on Stacey, I could prove that theory wrong."

"If I stayed on Stacy I'm betting I'd get proved right. That's the way these things work." He hunches his shoulders a bit, retreating into himself. "But thanks for being nice while I was here."

"Well, if that's what you think," because she clearly wasn't going to change his mind before he left. "It was a pleasure knowing you, Howard. I hope that I'll see you again soon."

"I hope so too." He gives her a little mock-salute. "Thanks for the cake, Barbara. Like I said, take care."

And he leaves to go say a final goodbye to his cats.

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Freedom's Apparently All I Need [Semi-Open, Bendytimed to End of Shore Leave]

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