Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Thing We Said Today/When I Get Home

Ava and I are in a hotel in Cairo. It's only for two nights, we're not going to waste time dilly-dallying. It's the Magna tomorrow. We've made a decision about what we're doing after the Magna.

Me: -I knock on her door- Ava?

Ava: What?

Me: You didn't pay however many hundred pounds for my plane ticket and accomodation to avoid me like the plague. Let's talk.

Ava: About WHAT, Ray? What is there you could POSSIBLY want to talk to me about?

Me: Don't be like that, Ava. You're smarter than that. Let's talk about our child.

Ava: -she opens the door and goes back to unpacking, avoiding my eye-

Me: How far along are you? Did you get pregnant before the coma or that one night after you woke up?

Ava: After. Of course after.

Me: So you're due in... -I add up the dates in his head- December?

Ava: Thereabouts.

Me: Roughly New Year then. That saves money on birthday and Christmas presents.

Ava: -she whips around and slaps me across the face- HOW can you joke!?

Me: I wasn't joking. I was making an observation. Calm down. -I rub my face-

Ava: -she glares at me-

Me: I think we should drop out of the Run after we explore the Magna. We can't raise a child in hotel rooms, or alleyways when we're low on cash.

Ava: Drop out of the Run? And do what, sit around, waiting for that anorexic shitehawk to kill us?

Me: There are ways out. Chester and Vieve got one. We can't raise a child on the Run, Ava.

Ava: And just what was their big thing? Laser-guided amnesia?

Me: Can you think of another idea? We can't raise a child on the Run and neither of us wants to get rid of it.

Ava: No. No I can't. I don't know why I even wat to keep it sometimes. I just...I don't want HIM near it. But forgetting everything? Everyone? And everything that could be of help? What if someone comes across something about my Egyptian research and has questions? What then? What if that's the KEY and I've fucking LOST it?

Me: We can put the information on the Internet, either in public or in a file we entrust to a few people. Do we have much of a choice?

Ava: I don't know, Ray. -she sighs- I don't even know why I bother, anyway.

Me: Bother what?

Ava: Bother fighting.

Me: -I sit down beside her on the bed- I know what you mean.

Ava: Well..

Me: What?

Ava: Well. Should we?

Me: Should we what?

Ava: Bother fighting, Ray? Should we bother fighting?

Me: If it puts our child at risk...then no, probably not.

Ava: ...

Me: -I hold out my hand to her- You don't have to love me, but will you let me raise our child with you?

Ava: ...Sure.

Me: -I hold my hand out for a few more seconds then curl it up awkwardly and put it away- I do love you, Ava.

Ava: Hmn. -she looks out of the window-

Me: So...the Magna tomorrow then?

Ava: I guess.

Me: "Into the jaws of Death, into the mouth of Hell, rode the six hundred." Minus five hundred and ninety eight.

Ava: Ninety seven.

Me: -I smile- Do you think you could ever bring yourself to not hate me?

Ava: I don't hate you. I just can't stand to look at you, be around you, think about's like someone's jamming a red-hot poker down my throat everytime.

Me: Well, hopefully I can help change that. I do want a life with you, Ava. I know we've only known each other for a few months and they haven't been easy months but...I do love you. I want to give our child a good life.

Ava: I don't know...

Me: What?

Ava: I'm not going to bother fighting anymore.

Me: The only thing I want to fight for is you.

Ava: Oh dear god. -she makes a noise somewhere between exasperation and disgust-

Me: -I look down at the ground- Sorry, I'll just go back to my room. -I get up to leave but stop at the door, hoping for a response, then look over my shoulder when I don't get one-

Ava: -she is still looking out of the window-

Me: -I tap my fingers on the doorframe, then give up and walk back to my room-

So yes, it's official. This is the last mission for Ava and I. Once we've explored the Magna, we're getting out of all this to raise our child. I know it's going to be difficult, but I swear to whatever deity you'd care to name, when I get home, I am going to get a job and support my family. Who knows, maybe I'll even get a happy ending. Tomorrow is the last day.

Reach out.


  1. You know what? I'm glad.

    Thank you. For doing that-- for dropping out, getting the happy ending, and kicking arse whilst you do it. You deserve it dude. Just don't make this be a "Two days until retirement" deal. Please.

  2. .........

    ...Y'know, you make it sound so fucking simple. Like we're in this mess because we WANT to be, or can't be bothered to take such a fucking obvious way out.

    I honestly do hope you guys make it. I do. But even I, the eternal optimist, know it's never that easy. If it were, I think we all would have gone home by now.

  3. If you can find a way to do it, then do it. A child deserves better than this, and if you're intent on having it, then that's what you've got to do.

    We never really talked, beyond me being on your case now and then, and you recently commenting on something that proves...that I might well be done. But I kind of wish we'd discussed more things.

    Good luck.

  4. Speaking as fresh-bait for He That Is, I cannot even begin to imagine how much of a strain the things you have willingly shared with us must weigh. If any of the situations I've came across deserve their happy ending, it's yours. I know mine and most others will not end that way - can't end that way - but I hope that you can be the exception that proves the rule. If you can escape the nightmare - the living Hell - then do it and don't look back. Honestly, I think it's impossible - a death wish to even try - but I'm not exactly optimistic with anything.

    Good luck to you. I do hope you make it.

  5. Hmm. For some reason, the last few lines of that conversation don't sit well with me. I can't really tell, because I wasn't there, and there would be all sorts of nonverbal cues if something was wrong...

    Gah. I really shouldn't be raining on your parade. I'm happy for you, I really am...Good luck getting to the rest of your life.

  6. You have fought so long.
    You deserve a rest.
    Farewell, my friend, and if you ever need my help, simply ask.

  7. All the luck in the world to you two.

    Just don't get careless now.

  8. If you get out of this you give that child the best life it can have and never tell it anything about what happened and who you met. I know this means we'll never be able to talk again, Ray...but, the thought of you two actually /surviving/ and then being /happy/...that's all I could ask for for you three.

    I'm going to miss you, Ray. Good luck from both Tony and I.

  9. ...i envy you, reach.

    i wish you both every happiness. good luck, wherever you go.


    You deserve it, both of you. I'm really happy for you guys.

    Thank you for all you've done. Good luck to all three of you. :)

    Stay safe.


  10. I will pray for you two tomorrow all day long.

    Ray, you are a real man. Some others would had ran already from the responsibility. Definitely, you deserve peace.

  11. Reach,
    You'll be getting a belated Whatever-You-Want-It-To-Be Present soon.
    It's a key, and a safe deposit box address.
    It isn't for you or Ava.
    When, and yes it IS 'when' Reach I'm sorry but you know it's true, your kid is drawn into this have her go collect the contents.
    It's the result of all my research, all my trials...and my insanity.
    Honestly, not sure if what's in that box is real or not. Don't have the time to go check. If they open it and it's empty or filled with newspaper shavings then...sorry.
    But if what is in there is something real, then that's my gift.
    Its an Escape.
    A real one, and it should have had it's half-life go down enough so that it wont kill them like it's doing to me.
    If it really does work, have them make more. Try to find a way so that it can be used instantly, and not have to sit around for ten to fifteen years before it become safe.
    Luck and Bless,

  12. I'm a bit late seeing this but Reach best of luck. I hope you are able to get out. It would be nice to see a happy ending for once.

  13. Best of luck, you two.
    -A future passerby