Apponitments - [ IC ]

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[They will have done what they set out to do. Finished the course he shoved them on. And yet, if a wolf comes howling at the door, Rosalind won't leave him to fend for himself. She'll be with him.

When she kisses his brown, Robert chuckles. His hand cups her cheek, running the pad of the thumb across it. A very minor fever. Nothing too concerning. And he shits to bring his lips to hers tenderly.]

I'll get it too anyway.

[They live and work in the same space, rarely away from one another. The germs are shared whether he does it or not.]

[quantumgrammar]

[It had seemed ridiculous, once, that this could be a reassurance. Facts and achievements were reassurances, gestures were nebulous things that thrived on cross-purposes.

Except there are now gestures which are proofs themselves, of the fact that Robert exists and is near to her as might be possible, and she breathes a quiet sigh of content to remember that this, this is a constant.]

Almost certainly, now.

[She muses without heat or resentment, resting her cheek against his palm.]

At least we are sensible enough to take turns.

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[They are constants. For all their struggles, for all their uncertainties before and after the Tear... they have become a constant. Even in death, they had been together, and it had been the consolation, unexpected as it had been, to their fate.

This? Is right. The months before Rosalind came? Entirely wrong. Everything had been off, been missing half. And now that was righted.]

Not too debilitating, at least.

[quantumgrammar]

Perhaps less so to you, even.

[She regards him with a faint lift of her eyebrows.]

You have been sleeping for longer than I have, after all. Is it still-?

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Still strange, though it's become a little more familiar.

[But now he has a host of nightmares. Things he hasn't yet told her about, just like he's been protecting Elizabeth from information...]

[quantumgrammar]

I almost find the dreaming stranger than the sleeping.

[Giving a thoughtful little sigh, she stretches out beside him again, head pillowed on her arm.]

After crossing so many worlds . . .