Я вернулся в деревню

[balancedlight]

Who: Svetlana and Open + a prompt for Fraser
What: Venturing forth and also dealing with April shenanigans!
When: April catch-all!
Where: Milton, then the path up to and including Lakeside. See prompts in post!

Content Warnings: Nothing as of yet; will update!

Comments

[bestsir]

Goodsir isn't looking for Sveta when he goes by the cabin office—he's just looking around in a general sort of way, exploring and seeing if there's anyone who needs help, or if there's any new information he can gather.

When he hears the weeping, he freezes. His instinct is to find out who it is, to go help, but he does understand that not everyone wants that. There's a few minutes of indecision, which he finally resolves by coughing gently and deliberately stepping with a heavier footfall.

[balancedlight]

Sveta reaches up and rubs her eyes. "Oh!" She steels herself, makes sure that her face is dry, if a little red and splotchy as she stands.

"Doctor Goodsir!" she squeaks out, straightening out her shirt.

[bestsir]

"Dr. Nazarova. I—I apologise, I hope I didn't disturb you." A beat. "Are you all right?"

She's certainly not, but he's not going to lead with that.

[balancedlight]

"Of course," she says, sniffling as she reaches up to try and brush her face again. "Yes, of course. It's been - a long walk. That's all. I'm very happy to see you!"

She puts on a brave face.

[bestsir]

He knows that look all too well. Saw it on too many faces, including his own in the shaving mirror.

"I'm glad to see you as well." A slight, hesitant pause, then: "If—if anything is ever troubling you and it would ease your mind to talk about it, I am happy to listen. I realise that we scarcely know one another, but ..."

He trails off.

[balancedlight]

Sveta fixes him with a watery smile and sniffles, reaching up to wipe her eyes. "I'm - scared, Doctor Goodsir. Everyone here is so brave and strong. And I can be brave and strong but - but sometimes I'm very, very frightened."

[bestsir]

Oh. He understand that, all too well. He sits down beside her, not so close as to encroach on her space, but enough to be friendly.

"I'm frightened too," he admits quietly. "More than I care to let on. I've experienced many strange and terrible things before coming here, but all this is outside anything I've ever experienced."

[balancedlight]

That just makes the tears fall faster, though they're silent and burning down her cheeks. "I have, too. But I've never been so trapped. And cut off. And people are hurting and dying and I can't save them. I cannot help them."

She lets her hands fall into her lap.

[bestsir]

Goodsir feels a lump in his throat and swallows. What she says—he knows it all too well.

Mr. Morfin is unwell.

After a moment, he says quietly, "I am one of a handful of men here who came from the same time and place—an expedition into the Arctic. Crozier, Hickey, Gibson, Little, Jopson—they are the others. Our ships were trapped in the ice, all our tinned provisions were rotten or poisoned, there was dissent from within and danger from without, and there was nothing I could do."

A pause, a deep breath. He thinks of Silna beside him, her hand on his shoulder, and hesitantly, he reaches out to put a hand on Sveta's shoulder. He doesn't dare do more.

"There is little worse for someone who's been trained to help others when there is nothing to be done. I know."

[balancedlight]

She sniffs, her cheeks damp with tears that she can't seem to stop. It all seems so silly - they're all trapped here and she's the only one who is sitting and crying about it. But she is also cut off from the Twilight, from the very part of her that makes her - her.

That hand on her shoulder is the anchor she's been looking for and she gratefully reaches up and places her hand lightly over his.

"Thank you," she says and means it. "I know you understand. And I will be alright. I will stand up in a moment and go about my day. But for now...for now I think I need to sit and cry."

[bestsir]

There's a little prickle at the back of his neck when she touches his hand, which he only glancingly notices and wouldn't know what to do with anyway.

"Sometimes that is all one can do," he says. "Would you prefer to be alone? Or—or I can stay, if you like."

[balancedlight]

"Will you stay?" she asks before she actually thinks about it. It's an automatic want, a desire to not be alone with her feelings. "Tell me - tell me what we talked about of the nervous system?" she finally decides, reaching up to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

She knows there's a lot of information, a lot of things she's discussed with him, but this neutral topic is easy. And she's more than willing to add to it.

She doesn't move her hand.

[bestsir]

He can appreciate the desire to talk about something simple and neutral, and he's happy to oblige. If he slips into a mode that's not unlike that of a student being quizzed by Dr. Knox, he can't quite help it. But it's nice, talking to her. and he even half-forgets the contact of their hands—it's as comfortable, really, as the conversation.