[JMM] 28.2.1 A problem shared is a problem halved

[thepainted_lady]

[ooc: AU 'verse based on spin-off from Heroes graphic novels "Bloodlines, part 1 & 2" - Joseph not aimed at any particular journal. Samuel is offering_hope].

Eastern Europe, Christmas, 2008

Lydia stood in the shadows of the trailer, stunned. She couldn't have heard Joseph right, couldn't have. Surely she must have been distracted by the horror of what he described to Arnold, about Coyote Sands, and misheard what he asked the time traveler to do, yes? And if she hadn't been? If she had heard him correctly? Something inside her heart seemed to constrict tightly, a fluttering, aching feeling that made it hard to breathe. There was nothing she could do. Arnold was already gone, and if he did what Joseph had asked...her whole world would change.

But Christmas morning dawned and the world was still the same. Lydia watched Joseph with speculative eyes, watched his darting looks at Samuel, the worry around his eyes, and she finally dared ask where Arnold was, a picture of innocence. Joseph didn't answer, not really, just saying something about work the time traveler had to do, but later he came with Samuel to her trailer asking them to use their new found ability to work together and find Arnold.

Samuel's fingers were warm on her skin, the pierce of the needle quickly familiar, and she reached out for the lost family member a little desperately, even as she tried to hold on to the presence of the man next to her.

"Arnold's not missing in the past," Lydia said, looking back over her shoulder at Joseph. "He's right here, in the present day."

Even as old as he was, even with the tumor, it was possible Arnold could still travel, she thought, once they had him back home. Joseph's words rang in her ears, praising her and swearing her to secrecy about Emile Danko. Or, well, not secrecy, but just asking her not to tell Samuel. He wasn't going to send Arnold back again. He apparently wasn't that cruel to someone so frail--just to family. His intentions came through loud and clear as his hands curled around her hands.

Couldn't he see that fate had been on Samuel's side? That something greater than he was had stepped in to stop him murderous intent? He'd sent Arnold back to murder a baby in his crib. Her mind flashed to Amanda, to her lost baby, the one she ached for every day, so helpless against the world, and the thought of her idol doing something like that, and to someone she...her heart twisted.

This Danko person had killed Arnold's son. She'd just told Joseph that, and again he was planning to put his own blood in the line of fire.

For a while she sat in her trailer, robe wrapped tight around her, torn between loyalty to the man who had saved her and the growing feelings that had taken root so many years before and blossomed more each year. Her idol's feet were made of clay, apparently, and that hurt. And Samuel...had done nothing to deserve such a fate.

Mind made up, the bitter feeling of betrayal burning inside of her, she made her way across the space that separated her trailer from Samuel's and knocked lightly. He had the right to know what Joseph was planning, and to protect himself, and she'd do whatever it took to help him.

Comments

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

He'd barely heard her knock, lost in his own thoughts and the bottle of wine he'd pulled out of his stash when he'd gotten back to his trailer. Thankfully, though, he'd come to the door regardless, figuring he should check to make sure someone wasn't just hovering on his doorstep, and he was grateful that he had when he saw her. He would have hated to leave her out in the cold, even if he didn't immediately understand why she was here and not in her own trailer.

"Lydia?"

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Doubts about the enormity of what she was doing assailed her, and Lydia felt a little sick for a moment, but seeing Samuel's face steadied her in another sense. Still, she worried at her lower lip for a moment, before taking a deep breath and giving him a bit of a smile. She was shivering, but it wasn't so much from cold as from the shock, but truthfully, she didn't have very many clothes appropriate for this sort of weather.

"Can I come in? I need to talk to you."

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

He frowned at her for a long moment, wondering what the hell was going on and why she looked so troubled, and then stepped out of the door way. Waving her in, he offered, "Of course. Come in."

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Lydia slipped in with a glance back over her shoulder, almost afraid. If Joseph knew what she was doing...if he found out...would he decide she was better gotten rid of, as well? She was surely doing more than Samuel had to give him cause. Wrapping her shawl a bit more tightly around her, she moved across his trailer floor, fingers brushing over the edge of the table like that would give her some sense of the words that she needed to say, though they caught in her throat when she tried to figure out how to utter them.

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

Samuel moved to lean against one of the walls, arm propped up on it so that he could thumb at his soul patch as he watched her. Something was very, very wrong here -- it wouldn't have taken someone of Lydia's ability to realize that -- and he wasn't sure if he should prompt her or if it was better to wait until she was ready to say whatever it was she was struggling with. Or if he even wanted to know at all.

Finally deciding on the latter, on waiting, he stood there in silence, eyes fixed on her, brow furrowed.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Lydia cast him sideways glances now and again, but for all that she'd steeled herself to come over here...she still wasn't sure how to address the situation itself. What she had to say would hurt, she knew that. God knew it was hurting her, ripping her apart inside, and it wasn't even her brother aiming it at her. Just her idol.

She nibbled at her lower lip, debating telling him nevermind, but...the consequences if Joseph acted would be far worse. Betrayal plus whatever that murderer had planned. She finally sighed, turning around to face him, leaning back against the counter and watching him with a slightly haunted expression.

"I overheard Arnold and Joseph talking. About why Arnold went back in time. About you."

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

"Me?" He dropped his fingers away from his face and canted his head to one side, uncomprehending. He didn't understand why his brother would have sent Arnold back for him -- there was no reason for it, or at least not that he could recall, nothing that would have required that sort of action. "Why?"

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

After what Joseph had done, Lydia owed him the courtesy of not looking away with the news, but she felt the pain of it keenly, and tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks well before she could get the words out. This was the only family she'd ever felt at home in, Joseph the only father who hadn't betrayed her, and yet...now he had, and proven himself to be just as bad as her own, if in a different way. Was everyone as perfidious at heart? What good was her gift, if she could be so taken in? She dashed her tears away with one hand, but they fell anyway, and she closed her eyes briefly, then opened them to watch him as steadily as she could.

"He told Arnold to go back to 1961. To some place called Coyote Sands. To kill you." There was more, about Danko, but her voice broke on that news, and she wasn't sure how to get the rest out.

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

He sucked in a sharp, sudden breath as if he had been struck, eyes wide and jaw slack, and stared at her. That -- that didn't make sense. Joseph wouldn't do that. He was his brother and even if he wasn't he had an obligation to the family as a whole, didn't he? He wouldn't have acted against them. He wouldn't have acted against him when he'd done nothing wrong. He wouldn't.

"You're lying," he hissed when the moment passed, but there was a note of uncertainty in his tone. He didn't think Lydia would lie to him any more than he thought his brother would have him murdered.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

She winced at his look, feeling his pain even without touching him. It mirrored hers, but went deeper. She might cling to Joseph as the family she never properly had, but he was Samuel's family, flesh and blood, and she'd not presume on that. But she knew, too, how easily and deeply flesh and blood could betray--and she knew how scarring that could be.

"Why would I lie?" she asked, and the tears she'd held back since she heard Joseph and Arnold spilled over, silent testament to her own shock at the news. "I didn't want to believe him, but...I heard what he said to Arnold, and then...I read him Samuel. He came to me. Asked me to use my gift to find someone, and he wasn't thinking. Took my hand. He thinks you're dangerous, and he means you harm, and I couldn't let him do that, not to you."

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

"He's my brother," he insisted, but God -- she didn't have any reason to lie. She looked up to Joseph just as much as he did. Maybe even more so, since there was no real blood between them, no real chance for petty sibling rivalries. But -- but this was Joseph -- he wouldn't. He couldn't see him as dangerous. His worst vice was the drinking, and even with it he wasn't a threat, and his occasional streaks of bad temper? They weren't that terrible -- his bark was worse than his bite.

He sunk back against the wall he'd been leaning against, voice nothing more than a whisper now as he repeated himself. "He's my brother."

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

"I know," she said, voice breaking a little, longing so much to go to him, but not knowing if he'd take any comfort, or lash out at her for being the messenger. She just wanted him safe. The mere thought of anything happening to him...it made her sick, more sick even than it being Joseph's hand doing it. If he were gone, the whole world would be darker, and hers had been dark enough already.

"I don't understand it, Samuel. The things I saw in him...his reasons...there was fear, fear of you, of...what you could be, fear of his...losing control, and resentment at control, and...bitterness at this life, at all of us..." That hurt, too, that the man she'd taken to her heart as a father didn't love this family the way she did, the way they all loved him. That he resented this life they all found as their salvation.

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

He pushed away from the wall abruptly, jumping on the chance to even minutely change the subject. He didn't want to hear about or argue whether or not his brother really planned on murdering him -- insisting that Joseph loved the carnival at least seemed preferable.

And so, nearly shouting, he snapped, "He loved this life! This place -- it was an escape, a home, for both of us. He loved it."

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Lydia flinched back from him, not blaming him for the snapping or shouting--god knew she wanted to do so herself, but feeling it deep inside her anyway.

"Maybe he did, once, and for a while, but he doesn't anymore," she said back, quietly, still crying though she didn't realize it, but refusing to match his anger. He had a right to be angry, and she'd take it if she was the easy target. He also needed to listen, to hear her, to know if he was going to be safe, and her chin set in a stubborn line, as she watched him. "Now it--us--is what he wants to escape from, back to a normal life." Her lips twisted on the word.

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

He shook his head emphatically, jaw working as though he had more protests lined up, though nothing came. Then, finally and suddenly, he was moving towards her, towards the door. "I need to go talk to him. I need -- " To hear from Joseph himself that this was all a misunderstanding or something. " -- I need to talk to him."

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Panic surged through her, though whether it was fully hers or something she was picking up from him, as well, Lydia couldn't be sure. She didn't dare stand in his way, but she did reach out a hand, fear clenching and churning around inside of her. "Samuel...be careful...please."

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

In spite of his arguments on his brother's behalf, there was fear and uncertainty both running under Samuel's skin as she touched him. He didn't want to believe her, wanted to continue thinking that his brother was the best of them all, but why else would Joseph have sent Arnold back in time if not to kill him? Why else would he have done so many of the things he'd done lately? It brought everything into a new light -- made Joseph's actions make sense even if there was no reason to the motive behind them -- and it frightened him.

"I'll be fine," he told her in spite of that undercurrent of terror. "He wouldn't -- if you're right, he wouldn't dare do anything to me where everyone could see."

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Her fingers stroked slowly down his arm, trying to soothe and part of her wished she had Joseph's brand of empathy in that moment, to truly be able to soothe him, even if it was manipulative in nature. She would offer him what peace she could, and she didn't know how to offer what it was clear he needed.

"No, he wouldn't," she agreed quietly. "Nor would he do it himself, I don't think. I...he can't bring himself to, but still...if you corner him..." She bit her lower lip, shook her head. "I couldn't bear it if you got hurt."

She'd just betrayed the one man she thought she'd never turn against to keep it from happening, and that was still tearing at her.

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

"I'll be fine," he repeated, giving her a serious look that betrayed none of his upset. He even managed a small, albeit hollow smile before pulling away from her slowly. "And I'll be right back. I promise."

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

Lydia let him go, no more able to hold him back from something he was determined to do than she could stop herself from worrying while he did it. But she nodded a little and took comfort in his assurance. His look might not have betrayed his upset, but she'd felt enough of it rolling off of her to let it match her own misery, and she sank down on one of his chairs, taking his assurance as in invitation to stay.

She didn't think she could be out there, or in her own trailer, and not go searching for them, anyway. Here, at least, she had...some sort of purpose rather than the useless floating, even if it was just worried waiting. "Okay."

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

Pulling open the door, he paused just inside it, shooting her an almost pleading glance over his shoulder, hoping desperately that she'd stop him, tell him that this had been some kind of terrible mistake. As much as he was praying for an easy out, however, he didn't bother to wait for her to tell him one way or another, instead turning away to head outside, taking a deep breath to steady himself as he closed the door behind him.

Minutes passed, stretching on for what felt like eternity, and then suddenly, the door exploded inward. Samuel rushed in, panicked and terrified, hurt and on the verge of tears it seemed, all of that written very clearly on his face, and slammed the door behind him. He sunk back into it, sliding down it to collapse in a mess on the floor, his fingers moving to his hair, his breathing painfully erratic and not for how he'd bolted back to the trailer. He said nothing, though, didn't even really acknowledge that Lydia was still there, too busy staring at the floor, haunted.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

The waiting had been interminable, eating away at her, gnawing until she didn't know if she could stand it. More than once, she'd started to rise, to head for the door, to try and find them and intervene, to see if she could talk sense into one or both of them, but fear and uncertainty kept her in the seat she'd chosen, frozen with the knowledge of what she'd done.

When Samuel burst back in, she was compelled up in reaction, but she couldn't move after, not for a moment or two, watching him crumple in on himself. She didn't need to touch him to read the emotion flying off of him, across the room, filling it, circling around. Whatever had happened, whatever had been said, she hadn't been wrong.

Compassion moved her where fear would have confined her, and she finally made it the few steps to his side, sinking down to the floor beside him, hands moving to cradle his face, pulling his trembling into herself.

"Samuel...?"

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

He recoiled from her touch, flinching, pressing back against the wall as if he could sink into it and disappear if he tried hard enough. He couldn't quite evade her fingers, however, and there was a stab of terror at the thought of her being able to read him and see the shame and horror that lingered under his skin and know what it meant. But it had been an accident -- he hadn't meant -- his temper had just gotten the best of him. Oh, God, Joseph had been right. He was dangerous.

He curled further into the wall, choking on his explanation even as he tried to get it out. "Joseph, he -- he wanted to talk. Out in the fields. He -- " He couldn't say it; he couldn't tell her that his brother was dead and he'd been the one to kill him.

[thepainted-lady.livejournal.com]

She didn't want to force her ability between them, or herself into his emotions when he didn't want her there. It was something she tried to be careful of, with friends, with loved ones. Yes, she could see into their souls, knew their hopes, dreams, fears...but it meant more when they shared them, told her of their own volition, or trusted her to offer the touch. Wanting to touch in comfort and knowing others feared what she might see in it kept her far more isolated than she had ever wanted to be.

The terror and shame hit her hard, before she could pull her hands back and leave him to his own emotions. Every bit of her ached to hold him, but didn't want to invade further, and she curled her fingers into fists to keep them to herself, watching him with concern and fear.

She'd gotten enough of a jolt to know something horrible had happened, but she hadn't pried, hadn't pushed deep against his wishes--his terror was enough to scare her, though. "What happened? What did he do?"

[offering-hope.livejournal.com]

"You were right," he blurted out, wrapping his arms around him. "He told me -- he was brokering some kind of deal with a man from the government. If nothing else worked, if he couldn't just -- just take care of me, he was going to turn me over to them. Like some kind of rabid animal."

He laughed, the sound equal parts bitter and hysterical, and dug his feet into the floor in an effort to push himself further into the wall. "I got angry. Hurt. Scared. Pick something. It was all too much for Joseph to contain. He -- he's -- he was right, Lydia."