Post-Battle Interlude

[rememberettersberg]

As the last of the zombies disperse, dust fading in the chill air, so too does Thomas' mood, the manic good humour that had kept him going all day. Every part of his body hurts, the solid ache of extended exertion, and he knows that he must look as awful as he feels. A mirror reveals the grim reflection of a past age; Captain Nightingale, awash with blood and mud, clothes torn to rags and skin caked with grime.

He strips without thinking much of it, dives into the freezing shock of the lake's still depths, and swims until his aches turn into leaden exhaustion. A part of him, as always when near open water, reaches out in search of its spirit but encounters only dank emptiness. Usually this would bother him, but tonight it feels right, apt.

There's a towel on the shore when he emerges, one he didn't leave there, and he wonders at the mansion all over again. Hordes of undead by day, the comfort of a fresh and fluffy towel at night. His lakeside office glows with warm light and the promise of fresh tea. He trudges towards it without conscious thought, mind half a century away.

Not primarily an open post, but he'll talk if anyone turns up.

Comments

[wickedwit]

“Crowley,” Claudius says, also fondly, “doesn’t remember a thing about Hamlet because he was too busy attending to Aziraphale’s happiness to attend the plot of the play. He performed a minor miracle to make the play succeed, in secret. It’s quite sweet, even it led to my infamy.”

[rememberettersberg]

Nightingale shakes his head, amused and rueful at once. "Such strange connections binding us all together. We'll have to find Aziraphale, test this theory out. It makes a wild sort of sense, though perhaps that's just this very long day talking."

[wickedwit]

"Isn't it a common investigate technique, to first find out what connects the victims? I know nearly everyone here, and I make a point of knowing all their stories¹. Aziraphale himself is a rare books dealer. It's a perfect combination of skills." Which is rather pleasing for Claudius to discover, after remarking on his own uselessness. Nightingale knows investigations, Aziraphale knows books, and Claudius knows everyone's business. "We'll seek him out on the morrow. Take thy rest, Nightingale."

¹ Except SecUnit, he couldn't tell you what's up with SecUnit. Security Consultant, tall, brusque, that's all of it. And Gu Xiang might've been a strange vision brought on by a blood loss.

[rememberettersberg]

"We'll make an excellent team." Nightingale looks very much inclined to sleep where he's sitting. "Good night, Claudius."

[wickedwit]

“Take thy rest in a bed, an thou canst manage it," Claudius teases. He’d smooth back Nightingale's hair and kiss his forehead, but there's no life-or-death situation propelling it. But then again ... propelling himself with a push from the table, Claudius leans over Nightingale's chair, and does just that. “Fare thee well,” he says, and takes his leave.