riverviewlogs | Open post for May.

"You do know, Richard," Alex begins with a smirk and her brow up towards her hair again. "Most people do talk to me. I can only think of a handful or so people who have been put off by me to require eleven calls. Even then, they normally come around." Cops, medical professionals, politicians, they all seemed to talk to Alex. When she wasn't being an idiot, she was actually good at her job. And there was the added point that while Nic was her producer on The Black Tapes, she was his on Tanis, so she did all the things that he did too.

The outliers for her were Strand himself, Warren, the Torres family after Sebastian was returned (and who could blame them for that?!) and a handful of other shady people who had their own things going on. Most people didn't, and Alex was likable and easy to talk to, so she thought she'd be able to get somewhere. But while she's talking to him, her phone pings and Alex just frowns at it when her eyes cast downward. Alex wouldn't be Alex if she's not multitasking.

He couldn't help the smirk at her mentioning of the eleven calls that it had taken before he even thought of contacting her back. It had been their way at first. She pushed, he pulled back and then returned with some type of apology tape. But there was a slight mistake in both their calculations. "Twenty-three times, if you count both occasions." Not that the second time had anything to do with her in particular. He would have ignored anyone's attempts at contact at the time.

Then she was looking down at her phone with that look of her. The one that always appeared when some particularly disturbing piece of information was discovered. Seeing as they were discussing an illness that had become an epidemic, the frown was more worrying than usual. "What is it?"

"You're forgetting the calls to your publisher and the department chairs at the university, actually. I lost count of how many I made then." She's trying to keep the mood light, both in that and not mentioning how many times she'd called him when he'd disappeared, and with the other information. He was definitely going to blame her for a virus that had magic involved with it in any way.

But Alex doesn't lie to him, and she's being better about avoiding the truth so she just frowns and shows him the conversation she's having with Victor. "Infection might be a moot point, considering everything. And I mean, I'm around people often enough that I could have come into contact with someone who had it and didn't know it. Maybe we should be quarentining you somewhere or something." As if they hadn't been together for hours already.

He takes the phone from her, looking over the conversation with Victor (clearly one of hers). It's, concerning, especially as it seems to confirm what he'd already heavily suspected. It also meant that it was pointless to go living in his office. He could have infected her already, and neither of them would know. That, changed things, especially when she commented about putting him in quarantine.

He let out a heavy sigh, one that often came with news he either didn't want to share or when he was caught in a lie. "It's probably too late for that." Really, with her talking about trying to keep him safe from the virus (which was ridiculous, he didn't need protecting) it seemed like idiocy to keep the facts hidden from her now.

Alex knows that tone of voice. She knows it. She knows it and she instantly is putting two and two together and coming up with: Strand is sick. "Richard." The word is instant and soft and worried. Moving closer to him on the bed by wiggling her knees, Alex leans over and presses the back of her hand to his forehead, and then moves it to touch behind his ears, because her mother has always said that was the best way of telling if someone had a fever.

"How long?" It's concern in her tone to match her frown as she moves her hand to his chin in order to look into his eyes and see if there's any sign of a fever in them. She wishes that she'd had a first aid kit or something, but beyond the small one with bandaids in her purse (just in case) she didn't have a thermometer or anything like that. She had advil, but that was it, and she didn't know if it would treat what it was that he'd had.

He's warm, hot even. Richard is sick, and his eyes are a little glassy, but he seems to be holding his own against it. Richard Strand didn't let illness get to him. There was too much to do to get sick, and for years the only one he had to take care of him was himself.

Reaching up, he took her hand, squeezing it tight for a moment. His hands are warm too, which is probably better than when he felt like he was freezing. "I only recently put everything together. I'll be fine."

He believed that, that he'd be fine and recover. Warren wouldn't want him to die, just make him uncomfortable, maybe make it seem as if he were possibly going to die. Anything to get what he wanted out of him. "That doesn't mean I want you at risk."

Edited 2018-05-09 01:32 (UTC)

"You better be fine. You don't get to show up and catch a weird plague and then die on me after I lugged all my stuff up here." Alex making typical bad jokes to lighten the mood, but it can't lighten the concern in her eyes as she watched his face and felt the warmth of his hands like this. Still, she makes an effort at a smile, before she brushes some of his hair away from his forehead again.

"Do you want some tea or something? I can grab you a glass of water and some advil in case it's a fever. I mean, it feels like a fever..." Alex for all of her mother henning doesn't exactly do this for anyone else often. Sure, she's propped up drunk people on their side with a bucket and water and advil, and she's made day and nyquil runs, but when she's sick Alex's idea is to just take nyquil and put on netflix and become a zombie.

"I'm fine." There's a large part of him that didn't know how to be taken care of. Maybe he knew how twenty years ago, when Coralee was there, but not since. Not since Charlie and everyone left his life. No, not since Coralee had been kidnapped and never came back. Not since his world crashed down around him.

Honestly, if he could just rest against her. Lean against her and breath in the comforting scent that was Alex; he might feel a bit better. The thought sounded, sappy, but it was there, collecting inside his mind even though he knew that sort of comfort would do nothing for the actual illness. Besides, it would further risk her getting infected, and he refused to put her at that sort of risk, even if they didn't know if she was or not already. "It, comes and goes."

It was on the tip of Alex's tongue to argue with him about how just not fine he was looking, but he was sick and if he was like anyone else she knew when they were sick, he was going to be miserable and she didn't want him to feel worse. No, not right now. So, instead, Alex just moved back on the bed and gave him a tug to come with her.

"Come on," she said softly, moving so that her head hit the pillow facing his. "You should get some sleep. Sleep always helps with fighting off of infections." A little smile as she moved closer. "Besides, god knows we can always both do with extra sleep when it comes down to it." Because neither of them slept particularly well, they just couldn't with everything in their lives that was going on.

Her lying there, head resting on the pillow was incredibly inviting. The idea of curling up with her was something that seemed to be starting to fill his head more than reason. So he fought it back. Reminding himself that he could infect her, that they could both be infected if they weren't careful.

After a few moments of silence, he made his decision. "I'll sleep in the chair." It wasn't that he didn't want to sleep with her, it was the most tempting thing in the world right now. It was that he couldn't. He refused to go against the logic that doing so would increase her risk of infection.

"Don't be an idiot, Richard." Her response is instant, and she bolts upwards at his proclamation, scooting closer to him and not letting go of his hand. "Listen. I know you're worried about me. I get it, I really do. But you're the one who's sick, and you're the one who needs the sleep more than me. Look, if I'm going to get infected, I probably already am. You're going to be doing this for no reason."

And then she dropped her voice a bit, letting the concern come through. "You're not going to get any rest trying to sleep in a chair any time, never mind when you're six feet tall. Come on, if you want, I can go back down to my old room, but I'm not going to let you sleep try and rest in a chair." There may be a little more than a little bit of an unspoken 'you idiot' there, because well, he was being stupid and noble and he was doing it for no reason.

Richard was too tired to argue. He was hot, and he could feel a headache coming on. Richard pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing at the corners of his eyes and tried to think of an argument. He couldn't. She was right that there was no way he'd get any actual sleep in a chair, but he'd wanted to try, and he didn't want her going back to her room. Not when she would be out of his sight.

He didn't answer her, just finally crawled his way up to the pillows and laid down. It was a gesture of defeat. Alex had won this argument; he didn't have it in him to continue, and he didn't want to walk out. It seemed a bit too childish this time.

Alex took her victory easily, moving just a bit to grab the advil and water bottle that she always kept in her bag. Tapping two out for him, she offered it to him silently. If nothing else, it might keep the edge of the fever and whatever else he was dealing with at bay for a little while, even if it was just enough so that he could get a little sleep. And of course in order to head off any protest, Alex added, "even if this is your brain thinking you're sick, thinking these will help will."

Once those are offered, Alex just traced her fingers across his face with a concerned smile. "Get some sleep. I love you, Richard and I'm definitely not going anywhere, okay? You don't go anywhere either."

He shifts enough to take the water and medicine. He's not used to this, not used to being taken care of or having someone around to take care of him. It's, nice. It makes him want to ask her to stay, to curl around her and sleep for weeks.

Instead, he just reached up to run their way over the back of her hand, caressing it.

"Thank you." It's not that he doesn't love her. He loves her more then he thought he could love anyone since Coralee, he's merely not entirely sure how to express it. The words 'I love you' seem too cheap somehow.

"For what?" The question is soft, and there's a little bit of puzzlement in it before she adds, "you don't need to thank me for this, Richard. Even if we weren't together I'd still make you get some sleep if you were sick." It was true, because Alex was his friend first, and Richard Strand was the sort of person who needed friends like her. Richard Strand was the sort of person who needed someone, even if he would deny it until there wasn't any breath left in his body.

"Get some rest, okay? I stay here until you're asleep and then I'll put out a call to have someone grab you some pajamas and stuff." There's a little chuckle. "Your suit is too nice to sleep in. And probably uncomfortable as hell as well." She wishes that she had some things of old boyfriends here, but that collection of band t-shirts and too big stretch pants is back home in Seattle, and it doesn't help him here. At least these would be new.

"You get used to it." It was something Richard had done ages ago. Long nights in the office or pouring over books and footage had created an understanding between his body and his ever worn suits. Even when Alex was over reviewing his Black Tape files, he often didn't change until the next day. He just wasn't a type of person who allowed others to see him like that. It seemed, too vulnerable.

Pajamas and amenities were an area to tread lightly on. They were, like the suits, a type of armor all their own. It would be uncomfortable to wear something someone else had chosen. "I'll go when I wake up." It was a matter of fact, no questioning or arguing room. At least, that was what his tone said.

Alex hadn't really put it together until now. Yeah, she'd crashed at his house countless times in the last five months or so, but then again she didn't wear suits when she went over there. If it was going to be a long Black Tape watching day, she was going to be comfy, normally leggings and a sweater or a t-shirt. Basically they could be like pajamas so when she woke up it wasn't the most uncomfortable thing in the world. She hadn't really thought out how he'd been in his suit the whole time.

Once, Alex had described his suits to Nic as his armor, and even when he was wearing flannel over t-shirts and had his unabomber beard, that too was a form of armor that came from his grief and focus on finding Coralee over everything else. A part of Alex had thought that they'd gotten over his needing armor, but she didn't think in the same way that he did.

Instead, she just sighed his name, "Richard. It'd make you feel better if you did it, you know. And you don't know how you're going to feel tomorrow." Frowning at him, her fingers traced along his cheek. "You know I'm not going to let anything happen to you here, right?"

For Richard, there would always be a need to shroud himself. To keep the outside where it belonged, outside and away from damaging him. No matter how much he softened to Alex that would always remain the case. Not everyone was Alex, after all. Not everyone would try to protect him; in fact, most would try to tear him down with barbs and slander. That was what he had grown used to after twenty years of Coralee being missing, of being completely alone.

Ignoring the soft plea was hard, Alex had always been an emotional person. Someone who empathized with everyone to an annoying degree, but this was different. It was a promise that they both knew she couldn't keep. Outside in the real world, who knew what Warren was planning on doing to them. He could do anything so long as they were here. "I'll rest, the get what I need." He wasn't going to relent on this. He didn't want someone else getting things for him. Picking out what they thought he would look like, choosing the ever important armor that he wore daily. It wasn't acceptable.

Maybe Alex couldn't keep her promise here, at least not in the outside of their apartment anyway, but if someone wanted to hurt him while he was sleeping, they were going to need to go through her first. Yes, Alex's empathy was a huge part of her, but there was a selfish reason in it as well. The six months that she'd been here when he hadn't had given her something that she'd needed: perspective. Each time they'd been apart before (other than Turkey, which was her doing) he had left without a word, and she had used that time to be angry or upset at him in alternating terms depending on how her day was going and how much she missed him. But here where the decision was out of her hands, she knew that it might just kill her if something happened to him. It would be why she'd ask him to runaway with her, and it would be why if she needed to, she'd shove him out of the way if Warren tried anything.

Riverview Quarantine may not be under Warren's control (at least not how Richard thought it was) but that protection was something that she was going to extend to him here anyway. God help any monsters who tried to harm him, be they human or not.

Her fingers kept stroking the skin on his cheek, and she frowned at him from the otherside of the pillow, with a long sigh. "You're such a stubborn ass, Richard. I know you have reason to be, but I'd wish you let me actually help you with more than just the damned tapes."

Even without being able to see her, he knew that tone and couldn't help smiling over it. With the memories she'd been left, she had no idea. Not even the slightest realization of how important she was. How much she did for him without even knowing she did it. How easily her words could wash over him and throw his armor to the side.

How cherished she was, just for being her own, stubborn self.

"It's enough." Enough to let him care about her, to love her. Enough to love him in return when the people he most cherished abandoned him (even if he never faulted Charlie for her choice). It was enough that she stayed by his side through all of this, and more then enough that she'd offered to run away with him, that she went after Thomas Warren, for him even if he didn't approve of the later. It meant so much more than she could possibly comprehend.

"It may be," Alex spoke softly, and she sighed again, before cuddling closer to him, because yes he may be sick, but right now it felt like he needed to be cuddled. Cuddled and held and just helped to keep everything else away. "But you still deserve more." There was no doubt that she meant it, and she wondered not for the first time and certainly not for the last how the two of them had ended up in Geneva with things finally on the table between them.

She hoped that it had come about the right way, and the best way and that in doing it she hadn't chased him away and needed for him to come back. Of course, that was how he did things sometimes so she couldn't be too angry about it. At least not when things were settled.

"Whatever else, Richard," her voice was a little whisper in the darkness. "I love you, and have loved you for a long time and nothing else is going to change it. If you don't feel secure in anything else, you can feel secure in that." Maybe that could be a kind of armor to help when his suit came off.

He reached out, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand, eyes open just enough to be able to watch her lying there. Not for the first time, he thought about how beautiful she was; as if all that made her who she was seemed to radiate out of her like a shining halo. Unlike him, a man who kept everything shrouded in an armor that he could never truly remove. The shadow of a man who once was.

"I do." The answer is soft but honest. He trusts her, feels secure with her, and for the first time in longer then he can remember, feels as if he's home. "Alex," He said her name quietly. It was the fragment of what he wanted to say. Of the millions of things that he couldn't adequately convey to her. An irony, for a man like him.

She was the only one who could convince him not to go headlong into what he knew was a trap set by Thomas Warren. She was the only person he trusted without question, even if he refused to believe the existence of the supernatural, even in her Black Tape.

The bedsheets rustled as he moved to rest his head against hers. It's all he can do to say it, the words that have been struggling against his thoughts. What he's still not sure he should say because of the time she's missing. "I love you."

One of the reasons that was so good at the radio, and why she preferred it over working in print or television was because of how good she knew her voice was. It was expressive, there was no doubt about that, and listeners could always tell how she was feeling whenever she shared things with them. Not that long ago, she'd told someone that she'd made a shitty actor, just because she was so bad at hiding things in her voice.

Now, when she spoke there was that smile in her. Bright and blinding it could be in the light, the dark and heer whisper softened it more than a little bit. "Good." She meant it, because she was glad that he knew it, and she made a contented sigh when he said that he loved her. She snuggled closer and wrapped her arms around him, holding onto him in a way that was meant to be support for both of them, a bit like someone would hold onto a teddy bear.

"Sleep, Richard. You're safe, and nothing's going to happen tonight. I won't let it. Get some sleep and we'll deal with everything else in the morning."

Open post for May.

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