My Friend of Misery [Lucca] - [FIN!]

[Callypso]

The early dawn light filtered through the curtained window and barely managed to alight upon the just-visible shoulder of one Iaso Price. The ferret had curled herself into the tightest ball possible in the farthest corner from the window and had lodged herself into the small space between bedside table and wall. Her paws clutched her knees to her chest as she rocked back and forth, staring at the wall with unblinking bloodshot eyes. The tears had long-since stopped, several hours ago, in fact.

It had finally occurred to the doctor to investigate why she had felt so off lately. The ferret’s behaviors and attitudes could not be considered “normal” by almost any other Cards’s standards, but for one as accustomed to ignoring herself in favor of anything else, even she had noticed that there had been one anomaly too many. She didn’t like change unless it was of her own volition, and this had been anything but. The doctor drew her own blood and had sent several vials to a trusted diagnostician for the results and had promptly forgotten it until a messenger had hammered repeatedly on her door. Apparently she had given strict instructions that the results be delivered immediately and by any means necessary. Huh.

That had been yesterday afternoon.

Now it was early morning. Her laboratory was in a shambles from the uncharacteristic rage that had consumed her upon reading the diagnostician’s result. She had rather it been anything else, anything but this. And she had given over to long-buried impulses – tearing down bookshelves, knocking over flasks, upturning tables. Everything was ruined save for one locked drawer that held copies of all her notes. She couldn’t remember if they were still intact because she had come to her senses or because she couldn’t locate the key.

It was her professional opinion (and the one shared by the diagnostician) that she was too far gone to do anything, so to save herself more pain and anguish later down the road she had chosen to quit her “habit” cold turkey. In those dark moments sitting on the floor amongst the ruin of her lab, even she had realized that she had a problem. And it was just one more hurt to heap upon a million others.

Now she sat in curled in her bedroom corner, shaking and holding herself as though the world was being ripped away.

This was day one.


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One month later…

It was time.

Iso deadbolted the front door and took a deep breath, lingering on her crooked front stoop before stepping down onto the cobbled street. The air was fresh and cool and rippled across her fur in a way that she had never bothered to notice before. As she padded down the street she reflected on the past month and shuddered. Before her split decision to go cold-turkey she had had the foresight to send a messenger to Joel’s parents suspending his apprenticeship until the time being. Another message had been sent- express delivery- to her Great-Aunt Polina, whom she had estranged herself from when Grandfather Tonka had died. The two were too much alike, and she had been unable to bear facing the sibling of her much-missed mentor. In light of the events, however, she had swallowed her pride and sent for her. Polina had shown up mid-morning the next day, no questions asked, and had let herself in with the key Iso had sent.

It had been a grueling week and a half, complete with crying, screaming, sweats, shaking and all-encompassing pain while Iso shed the toxins from her body. The Corvie/Morganberry Badger had never left her side for a moment, caring for her and all her affairs while keeping the rest of the family in the dark. When Polina had deemed Iso strong enough, she had given her Grand-Niece the verbal berating of a lifetime. Iso took the words in stride, knowing it wouldn’t even compare to what her mother would do when she found out. She also knew she deserved it.

Iso was clean, though nowhere near being as mentally stable as she would have liked. Under pressure from Polina, the doctor had agreed to seek out a therapist to get her grounded back in reality. She was being forced to acknowledge her feelings and it hurt to be bared to the world in such a way. Polina had agreed to stay with her until Iso felt secure enough on her own, and she knew that her Great-Aunt wouldn’t be one to let her off easy.

In the meantime, Polina had taken it upon herself to doing some research of her own, and had sternly pressed an address into Iso’s paws once she came out of detox. She didn’t push Iso after that, and let her decide on her own when the time was right, though she had made it clear that the longer she waited, the worse it would be for the ferret.

Two weeks later, after much contemplation, fear, anger and grief, Iso was finally ready to face the music.

She had memorized the address, though she kept it in her coin purse regardless. Her Great-Aunt’s writing was on it and it offered some modicum of comfort on the walk toward the center of town. Polina watched from the window as her grand-niece strode down the block.

After what seemed an eternity, Iso arrived at a quaint apartment complex and had inquired at the front desk for the proper level. Electing to take the staircase despite her condition, and to delay the inevitable, she plodded up the four flights of stairs, walked down the hallway and finally arrived at her destination.

The brass number “25” emblazoned on the door seemed larger than life and clashed oddly with the several mismatched sets of locks and deadbolts adorning the door. It had stood out like a sore thumb in comparison to the other doors that were only sporting a single standard lock each. The ferret stared forlornly at the brass number for several minutes, then took a deep breath and soundly knocked thrice.

It was now or never.

[Lucca]

It had been months since a thought of Dr. Price had even crossed his mind. At least, that's what Aberforth stubbornly told himself. His life had settled back into the gruling routine, the mind-numbing monotony familiar for all its distastefulness. Despite the fact that he was a police officer, and was held at gunpoint (if not literally, then in other ways) by a shaking criminal almost weekly, the Goat had become more detached than ever. And, were he given to pointless self-reflection, he would have noticed the fact that he was more wary than ever of his fellow Cards, especially those in the medical profession. He'd nearly taken the head off a doctor that had been called in to tend to a wound he got on the job, and when he'd been running a fever of over 103 degrees a few weeks before, he'd stubbornly refused to let it affect his life in any way. He chalked up the day he was forced to spend prone in bed to overuse of his basic Club ability and the next day he took a few over the counter drugs and went into work like he wasn't still feeling weak as a newborn kitten and hot as the sun in the middle of the Hisstor Wastes.

Through all of it, he avoided thinking about anything to do with that night. He would vehemently deny that it ever happened (mostly to himself, every night, when he woke from a troubling sleep) and then pretend there wasn't even anything TO deny in the first place. His attitude towards his fellow Cards was even more clipped than before, and he made sure to keep others out of his personal space.

One part of this was never, ever having visitors at his apartment (not that anyone really wanted to visit him in the first place). Even the cleaning staff knew to give his door a wide berth. So it was with some annoyance, and not a small amount of paranoia, that he heard a firm knock on his door while working. Despite not being a blacksmith anymore, old habits died hard and Aberforth would still work with iron whenever he got the chance. Others might call it a 'hobby', the Goat himself called it 'a habit'.

He glanced sharply at the door, glaring at it as if he'd somehow magically be able to see through it. Who could possibly be calling on him? Anything from bill collectors to his superior at work to rabid Rabbits crossed his mind, and he pushed himself to his hooves and made his way to the door, making sure to stand in such a way to look his most intimidating, just in case.

The sound of multiple locks being undone would sound out into the silence of the hall way, followed by the door opening the barest crack and the hint of a pink eye looking out. Seeing who it was, Aberforth quickly shut the door again. He wanted nothing more than to blame this on his own mind playing tricks on him. There was no way she could really be at his door.

[Callypso]

The sound of muffled footsteps was barely audible from behind the door, so it wasn’t until the unmistakable clacks of locks being undone did her pulse quicken and gentle moisture grace her brow. She had half been hoping he wasn’t at home, even though Polina had bullied her way through the police station’s ranks to determine when exactly the goat would be home. The badger had known all too well that the situation at hand was something Iso would rather avoid, at least for another month, so she had opted to prevent any form of “missed opportunities”. Her grand-niece would not be getting out of this easily.

The door opened just a crack and her heart caught in her throat- which then promptly dropped into her gut as the door slammed in her face. His reaction wasn’t entirely uncalled for, since their last interaction had been wholly discomforting and awkward for them both, but she couldn’t just leave. She stared dumbfounded at the space where the goat’s eye had been, unsure of what to do.

Her constant struggle with being “clean” was learning how to process her feelings, letting them wash over her then decide which one to act upon instead of getting overwhelmed and frustrated as all hell as her emotions bombarded her. Right now this was exceptionally difficult to do as she choked down tears, bit her lip and contemplated smashing the door in with her fist. This was already not going well.

After a few moments of controlling her grief and rage, she decided to pound on the door and let her voice ring out.

Aberforth, it’s me, Dr. – her voice stopped dead as she realized she wasn’t really sure what she was to him. Was it appropriate to refer to herself as a physician?

It’s Iso. Iso Price! I know you’re in there and we have something important to discuss.

The ferret bit her lip again as she considered her next move. What if he didn’t answer? Her voice trembled in fear and anger as she continued, I’m not leaving until we talk, so it would be best if you simply let me come in!

Iso’s paw involuntarily found itself caressing her belly, which was now visibly swollen, though it would still be difficult for most to tell how far along she was. The ferret felt sick, but she wasn’t going anywhere until the Tulgey spoke with her. It was the least she owed the unborn (and unwanted) child(ren) growing inside her.

[Lucca]

Aberforth had just convinced himself that he had imagined it, and that he should just go to bed, and had in fact even turned toward his bedroom, when there was more knocking, accompanied by yelling. The Goat winced, and then realized in a panic that he had left the door unlocked. The resulting odd echoes of his hooves as he trotted back towards the door would be audible even through the thick wood. He caught her words, and stood still as a statue in front of the door.

Why is she here? The question rang soundly in his mind, and he did his best to sort through the responses that followed that thought. Something important they had to discuss, the doctor had said. Something important. Another memory swam in his mind then, uncalled for an unbidden...an encounter with a dangerous, unstable stranger who'd said some very strange things...things he'd dismissed out of hand as utter nonsense...

Including...

Aberforth shuddered and desperately held back the retching that wanted to occur at the thought. It couldn't be true...couldn't be...He shook his head, soundly, and nearly threw open the door to give Iso a cold look. "What?" he demanded in something a touch or two colder than his normal, emotionless tone. His expression was perfectly calm, but he held himself rigidly, and if it weren't for the dark markings under his eyes, Iso would have been able to clearly see the evidence of sleepless nights.

[Callypso]

The echo of hooves sounding from behind the door was both a relief and a source of panic. He’d already as much as said he wanted nothing to do with her – what other reason could there have been for him shutting the door in her face? Yet she was still here and her words had had some sort of effect on the man, which was at least a start.

Or not.

The echoes faded away and the door remained closed. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath. Perhaps he was feeling very much the same way that she had. Nervous, sickened, terrified – angered. This was another phenomenon she was relearning- struggling to empathize with others instead of merely sticking them into rigid categories of “cracked” and “tolerable”. It was a painful lesson for her. All those years of avoiding her problems and feelings were now rebounding on her in full. It didn’t escape her notice that this was the reason she had relied on the white pills in the first place. Trying to read people, gauge what they were thinking, how they would react, worrying about how you felt… it was all a bit much. But now she had someone or someone(s) - if she didn’t miscarry - to depend on her, and she felt obligated to make some sort of effort.

Just when she thought she’d have to hammer on the door again, the door was thrust open wide to reveal the stony-faced Tulgey. His clipped response was exceedingly cold and she bristled against his icy demeanor. The doctor tried to keep her cool and swallowed the anger that was quickly building within her. How dare he talk to her in such a way. This wasn’t easy for her, either, and decided to tell him so.

I’d rather be anywhere but here, but it’s a little too late for that now.

Her eyes flickered down toward her slightly distended belly and back up to meet his cold stare with her barely-repressed anger. It didn't escape her that the skin around his eyes seemed to sag a little, but she was too absorbed in the task at hand to offer much sympathy. He probably hadn't suffered an ounce of what she had, and this wasn't nearly over yet.

You don’t want to have this conversation out of doors, so let me in.

[Lucca]

Aberforth could see the bristling of the Ferret's fur, hear the clipped tones of her responses...it was what part of him expected, the cynical part. Of course she wasn't happy to see him. Of course she wasn't going to make this at all easy for him, or for herself. It was the nature of all sentient beings to create drama. And this was one sort of drama that Aberforth had never wanted to deal with...he had no idea -how- to deal with any of it. One glance at her swollen belly (his eyes drawn there by the motions of her paw) confirmed his worst fears.

A part of him wanted very much to slam the door in her face and forget this ever happened...but even he couldn't live with himself if he did that. So instead, he wordlessly stepped back, allowing her entry into his apartment. She'd find it was immaculately clean, almost un-lived-in, at least in the front room.

Once she was in, he'd close the door and bolt all the locks again, all without saying a word and barely glancing in her direction. He just didn't know if he could handle this. He couldn't even let himself think about what Iso was about to say. Emotions were swirling thickly just beneath the surface, and the Goat had just never been able to deal with his emotions. He'd locked himself off from social contact for so long, and he'd shut his own emotions in a box in his mind, letting cold logic, cynicism, and paranoia dictate all of his actions and choices. He'd done it for his own survival. Repressed everything until he barely knew the meaning of the word 'heartbreak'. Until he didn't have a heart to break, some might say.

In some ways, Iso had opened up the whole can of worms he'd tried to keep firmly in his past, and part of him resented her for it, though he didn't even know himself well enough to put that label on the feeling.

Aberforth turned around, finally, and walked into the other room, nodding for Iso to sit on the couch (an uncomfortable and drab gray hand me down more for show than anything else) while he himself remained rigidly standing. He finally looked at her, expression remote and inhumanly passive, waiting for her to speak.

[Callypso]

The ferret matched the goat glare for glare. There was no telling what was going on inside that skull, and Iso had the uncomfortable sensation of looking into a mirror reflecting her past self. Has she really been so closed off and calculating? The truth was that she had been hiding from herself and everyone else and maybe, just maybe, this is what had drawn the awkward pair together. That single unfortunate night was a blur, but there was absolutely no mistaking what had happened. Not now. She felt it in the additional weight she’d put on, in the mood swings that were no longer artificially supplied, by the sheer fact that she was thinking more clearly than she had in a very long time.

And here was Aberforth, captain of his own cool emotions. She wondered vaguely if he’d also indulged in “outside assistance” for his own behavior modification, but based on what little she knew of him, she doubted it. Here was a stronger person than she, in a sense. He’d warped his own mind so much he didn’t need pills or syringes, whereas she had relied on them to erase her life away. Not only was she in her own mind, but she somehow had to tango with her own overwhelming sensations and parry his self-denial and disbelief along with her own strife. Ugh.

After their wordless showdown, the Tulgey finally stepped backward to allow her entrance. Iso found herself taking the time to absorb what little there was in the apartment, and to her dismay it was more bare than her own rickety house. There was nothing to glean from, nothing to help her learn anything more about him, other than his already apparent detachment. Something in the back of her mind whispered, this is no place to raise children.

The power of her own thought struck her soundly, and she gladly sank into the couch, half-dazed, while she processed her own feelings. This pregnancy… she finally acknowledged the word in her own mind… was rapidly transforming her, and she felt swept along into an endless sea of uncertainty.

She glared at Aberforth who chose to stand as seemingly as far away as possible, then took another deep breath to steady herself and clear her thoughts, though her voice still gently trembled despite her resolve.

I find it a bit unnecessary to spell this out, but even so, I’m pregnant. The word seemed to ring in her ears and linger long after she continued. As this is much your responsibility as mine, I nee- we need – to devise a plan. I need a commitment from the father.

She nearly choked on the next words as tears and anger bubbled up as she snapped-

And stop looking at me like that!

[Lucca]

He'd known it, of course, as soon as he'd seen Iso's form. As soon as he'd really looked at her. He'd had a warning of it (if you wanted to call it that) months ago. Obviously, he was the only possible father, or she wouldn't even be here. No one would willingly choose him to father their children if they had any other options, he knew with almost clinical detachment from the situation.

And yet, when she said the words...when she spelled it out plainly, and the words seemed to hang heavy in the air...it was suddenly real and tangible and unable to be ignored. Aberforth swallowed heavily against the feeling of nausea threatening to overwhelm him. His pink eyes flashed with emotions, most half formed, most he couldn't even put a name to. There was anger there, and that biting, longing ache he so hated and desperately had been trying to ignore ever since that night of idiocy when it began plaguing him. Loneliness, he carefully didn't let himself think, but he knew it anyway.

At her snap, he winced, and looked down for a moment...and when he looked back up, there was something bright and ugly in his eyes. His voice was no longer cold and emotionless, but heavy with emotion. Mostly anger...and mostly anger directed at himself, for his own weakness.

"And what, exactly, do you expect me to do, Dr. Price?" he demanded. "Do I look like I am at all suited to be a father?" He began to pace the room, hooves echoing on the carpeted floor.

[Callypso]

All she wanted to do was scream at him, but the mixed signals flashing dangerously in Aberforth’s eyes caused her to bite her tongue and straighten her position on the couch. The motion was half-unconscious; she was trying to appear stronger but her tail betrayed her by curling tightly around her lower half. She watched as the revelation struck home with the Tulgey, and though she was aware it was cruel (another uncomfortable acknowledgment), she took some cold satisfaction in watching him squirm. Well, as much as he was going to in front of her anyway.

To her surprise, the goat had the decency to actually look away once she barked at him. She simply couldn’t take his frostbitten glare. This wasn’t going to be made any easier if he kept menacing her as though she were some grotesque, foreign specimen.

What was even more shocking was that he managed to meet her eyes again, and this time they were brimming with emotion. He was too closed for her to accurately guess their meaning (and she was still too new to the process to be able to categorize every feeling), but there was definitely anger. Good. At least he was capable of feeling something.

At his next quip she threw a paw into the air in exasperation.

I don’t know! Be a father, whatever that means. For suits sake, at least take some responsibility for this! Acknowledging that it happened would be a good start!!

Was he really going to play this game? She didn't know what to do herself, but she was still here. Even if her efforts were in vain, at least when she left she would know that she had done the right thing. As if that would be any comfort...

The sarcasm finally dripped away and returned to betrayed hurt, anger and sorrow. I didn’t ask for this, you know. Suits, I didn’t even know whether I wanted children or not. Certainly not soon, but I hadn’t entertained the idea even for the future. There was never an immediate reason to. Now she found herself staring at the ground as her voice dropped to a quiet murmur. And now I don’t even get that choice.

Her head snapped back up to meet the Tulgey’s pink eyes once again, unshaken purpose and resolution clearly reflected in her eyes.

But I don’t want to have to do this alone.

Her eyes remained trained on the goat's, though the ferret sighed deeply and leaned against the couch as if in resignation.

I can't force you to participate, but at least I'll have done my part. For their sake... I just need an answer. And either way, they are going to know about you, so it would be advisable to figure something out together.

If the Tulgey knew what was good for him, he better damn well try.

[Lucca]

At her words, Aberforth's tense pacing increased. The echoing of his hooves got louder, and the Goat had a fleeting thought that the neighbors downstairs might hear it. He didn't care at all if he disturbed them, except that there was a chance they might attempt to exact their revenge for their lost sleep and take it out of his hide. Well, he was missing more sleep than all of them, he was sure!

A low sound that was nearly a growl came out of his throat. "I let you in, didn't I?" he objected, turning quickly to face her. "Do you think I would let just anybody into my home, the one place where I can possibly get some small measure of peace?" He blanched and looked down, realizing that...letting his temper get out of control wasn't going to make this any easier. Despite the fact that it almost felt like it would. At least if she ran out, screaming at him, he'd probably never have to see her again.

But he wasn't sure he could live with that, either. Not after the torture these last few months had been.

His voice was back to a more neutral tone when he spoke next, though it was tight with suppressed emotion. "Please don't act like I'm fully at fault for this. Know that I...regret what happened between us. I just..." He sighed, heavy, and shook his head, beard wagging. "Look. I've been alone all my life. I don't know how to do otherwise." His words were flat, but there was an almost frightened expression in his eyes. He couldn't...he didn't know how...he'd never wanted...he couldn't.