faderift | [ Open ] Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

WHO: Jim Kirk & You
WHAT: Jim left a written request, and now awaits replies
WHEN: From Kingway 9 and on for a couple days, can be morning or evening (or another time if pre-arranged)
WHERE: The Skyhold Gardens
NOTES: Possible cursing, possibly discussion of death

His stomach twisted as he paced the pathways of the gardens, turning the silver band on his wrist over and over. A nervous habit, the need to fidget, but he couldn't stop it. He kept looking down, expecting to see something else there - the sleeve of a uniform, or the brush of a soft leather jacket. He could still feel those things on him, the sleekness of the cloth, their familiar weight. He wanted to reach up and strip them off, but they weren't there and they had never been. Had they?

He bit his lip sharply, nearly drawing blood as the gravel crunched beneath his boots. He shouldn't think on it to much, he told himself. Not until he had spoken with someone else, someone who might no more. Perhaps it was just something brought on by recent events, by the stress of a child's torture and death, by the stress of being an outsider and not belonging. Maybe his mind had simply supplied him with wishful imaginings when he was most vulnerable. And yet... and yet...

No. Stop. Wait until you could speak to someone and sort it out then. Drawing conclusions before you had all the data was one of the worst mistakes he could make, and he wasn't about to start now.

He just had to hope someone had answers.

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"It was. Kirk." And Jefferson gave a curt nod of his head before shifting his thumbs to rest in the edge of his pockets.

"So, am I the first or the only?"

As far as he knew, this had been something of an all-call. But the fewer people involved, the happier he'd be. Crowds were...still not something he was ready to deal with, if he could help it.

"One of the first," he nodded, not that he had had many callers. He couldn't decide if he was pleased with that outcome or not. He hadn't wanted to cause a panic with his announcement, after all, and he supposed someone could have showed up with intentions other than speaking with him.

It had been a gamble, to be sure.

"So, I suppose I should just jump right in. Since you've been here, have you recalled any strange memories? Memories you're very sure you did not have before?"

For a moment, Jefferson simply stares at him, a little slack-jawed, eyes a little too wide.

Then he laughs. Wide, toothily smiling and laughter he can't keep back, shaking his head and lifting a hand to try and stem the rather unhinged sounding giggle that had just welled up.

Probably not the reaction Jim was expecting.

Well that... was not what he was expecting. At all. So he is going to stand there and cross his arms and let Jefferson get it all out of his system rather than begin sputtering crossly. If the laugh itself sounded unhinged, well, it wasn't any crazier than the memories jumping around in his head or half the shit he'd been through here already.

"Care to enlighten me?" he asked once it seemed like Jefferson was getting some control of himself.

It doesn't really take long for him to get it under control. It's not really amusement, or at least nothing rooted in mirth or joy. He sighs, shaking his head. If Kirk only knew.

"Wouldn't be the first time," he finally manages, still smiling wryly when he glances up again.

"What? That you've had dreams of memories you didn't have before?" he asked, because it seemed like Jefferson was the sort you needed to get clarification with. Assuming anything with him would probably see him with a new scar or two at some point, he was sure.

"Not dreams. Two sets of memories. Side-by-side."

Which might seem mad, in a world where everyone wasn't already aware that such things were possible. It was a little less frustrating than attempting to explain it to Emma, that first time, thankfully.

Two sets of memories, huh? That sounded like some weird thing with time and that always gave him a headache, but it was also what he was experiencing now.

"Could you tell if both were real, or if one was fake?" he asked him, face serious.

Well. Kirk's a lot more open to the idea than anyone else he'd let that slip to. Some of Jefferson's misgivings might be easing up. Just a little.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to speak plainly, if he were actually going to be believed.

"I knew which ones were mine."

[ Open ] Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

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