almightythirst | Deerington Inbox

She reached out to take the glass, holding it carefully in her hands and bringing it close so she could feel the warmth from the steam on her face as well as against her palms. It had that same comfort that any hot drink did when things felt too much, something grounding and easy to focus on.

"Thanks, Daddy," she muttered quickly, going to blow on it carefully after, before testing a sip. It burned her tongue slightly, but it was worth it for the much more pleasant burn in her chest as it went down.

She chewed on her lip after, staring down at the liquid in the cup. She wasn't sure how much she wanted to ask about their (his) world, whether she wanted to further challenge the already confusing memories in her head, but the words Rose said giving her such panic were enough to at least want to pose one relatively important question; "Back— ... Outside of this place, back home... You're okay, right?"

Will that name ever stop making his chest ache when he hears it? It’s a bittersweet shock every time. Jesse settles down next to her, his hands wrapped around his own drink. The warmth sinks into his one palm, grounding him. As ever, with Chloe, he does better focusing solely on her needs, and he’s prepared to that right up until she asks about back home.

“What?” He looks over at her with a small, confused frown. “What do you mean by that?”

She shrugs, keeping her eyes on her drink rather than looking at him. A part of her is too scared that maybe the answer will be something she won’t be able to take, but with the gnawing feeling in her stomach still there long after her conversation with Rose, it’s impossible to not ask. She goes to take another sip, hoping the burn will help her clarify.

“This woman on the network, she said— She said sometimes our minds forget things to protect us.” Chloe would’ve known that better than anyone a few weeks ago, ironically, but she sounds so unsure of it in the moment. “She said that I could be unable to remember stuff because something way worse than I imagined could have happened. And she started telling me about how her dad died and how she tried to go back in time and save him but it fucked everything up and I — I felt like I couldn’t breathe, but I don’t know why.”

She gripped the glass a little tighter in her hands, scrunching her mouth up for a moment. “It felt like maybe I —... You’re not... dead, right? You’re okay?”

She’s starting to remember. Or maybe Chloe had never really forgot, her real memories just having taken a backseat to the false ones. This should be good news. Yet Jesse takes absolutely no pleasure in it, knowing that no matter how he answers this, it’s still in some way a lie. Because no, he’s not dead… but her true father is. And long as she’s like this, Chloe can’t even mourn him. It’s several kinds of unfair.

“Last I remember, I was goin’ to bed like usual and fit as a fiddle. Not a thing wrong with me.”

He smiles, putting on the good-natured charm that always serves him so well. This is the most he can do for her—keep the lie going like he and Ashe agreed, even if it means he can’t comfort her for the thing that’s actually wrong.

“Hey.” He taps his glass against hers to get her attention back up on him. “I mean it. I’m alright.”

The tension that was in her shoulders disappears quick as it can, leaving her via a long sigh of relief. He was alright. She keeps staring at her drink for a moment after, before going to set it to the side so she can move over to him, going in for another hug. Arcadia Bay had taken away how much Chloe desired physical affection and the lack of those memories meant hugs were just a thing she took for granted now.

"I don't — I don't want anything to happen to you. Not again. After May, the way Mama was, I— "

She cuts herself off, shaking her head, and squeezing him a little harder. "I'm sorry, Daddy."

Jesse wraps her back up in a bear hug and hushes her quietly, feeling—not for the first time, not even close to it—a rush of protectiveness. He’s not her father and never could be, but he’d still do anything to take care of her like one. To take away this guilt she doesn’t deserve.

“You didn’t do a thing wrong. I know you didn’t, and so does your mama.”

It has gotten easier to call Ashe her mother, even though he still mentally stumbles over it every time he has to choose between the lie and her name.

“You’ve got nothin’ to apologize to me for. I’m fine. You’re fine. Your mama’s fine.”

She kept herself tucked in tightly against him, feeling like he kept out everything dangerous and evil about this place just by holding her. It’s a safety net she doesn’t have with many, one that makes it easy for her to almost believe he’s right and that she didn’t do anything bad when she’d shot him way back then.

It doesn’t feel fine, but she’s at least able to remember that it was all a part of something far larger and out of her control. Something she’d never have done without Deerington’s influences.

“I know it’s selfish, but I’m ... really glad you guys are here with me.”

“If that makes you selfish, then that’s what I am too.”

Especially knowing what awaits Chloe when she returns home. It’s not just that though. He’s felt the same about Ashe. About Angela, when she was here. Hell, he’s felt it about Moira and Rei and… so many others. Hard not to want company in the midst of misery.

“Now you call yourself selfish or apologize for somethin’ you couldn’t control one more time, I’m gonna drink your drink for you. It’s not just a threat y’know, I’ll do it.”

Chloe let out a weak laugh, pulling back so she could wipe her face with the sleeve of her jacket. She couldn't not feel ridiculous for getting as upset as she was, some ingrained part of her always embarrassed by her emotions regardless of memory.

"Jeez, Pops, no need to escalate so drastically." It's said with an attempt at her own humor as she goes to grab the drink, taking a large gulp from it and thankful for the burn of both the tea and the alcohol to help ground herself again. "I'll finish this before I apologize for being a downer."

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