tramitem_log | The Holiday from Hell

Entry tags:

The Holiday from Hell

Who: Alec, Anthony, Ellie and Fell
What: Going on a house sitting holiday to ~~terrifying~~ jolly old England.
When: 09/20-09/30
Where: Across the Pond.

Alec squinted at the house as it rose on the horizon. He was tired and jet lagged from the plane. Tired and sore from the long ride over bumpy roads in a small cab, crowded against one window by Ellie who was smushed in the middle with Anthony on the other side. Fell, being the guest, took up the front seat and was probably cramping Anthony's legs all to pieces with how much room he left which Alec felt strangely justified in.

Anyway, that house held memories, both good and bad and, mostly terrifying, but he was oddly looking forward to it. After all, everything was a little bit frightening until you knew its secrets.

---
Info on Abaddon House and the environs

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A little after two in the morning on the first day, Fell might hear mysterious clinking noises kitchenward. If he should wander down there he'll spot Alec looking even more wan and pale in the bad lighting, wrapped up in a old quilt and with a steaming mug of what smells to be hot cocoa in front of him. He is staring out the window at the endless moor, seeming lost in thought.

They had all had an early night due to their travels--or, well, slightly less early due to demonic influence--and Aziraphale had never been especially good with sleeping through the whole night anyway. So somewhere around 2am, he rolled out of bed, made himself presentable in a bathrobe, and headed downstairs, taking his phone with him to light the way. He is surprised to see someone else has beat him to the kitchen.

Alec looks a bit like a ghost. He looks like shit, is what he looks like, honestly, but in that dim lighting, in the gothic romanticism of an old house, he looks like the haunted specter waiting for the return of a lost love.

"I've been a terrible influence, I see," he tries with cautious pleasantness, indicating the cocoa. "Cocoa. I recall a time you all but refused it."

He lost her long ago and never deserved her to begin with. There was another in that other life and he lost her too. So lost loves he might have, but he's not waiting, and is far better at love never found.

"There's a bit of a chill." He drops his feet from where they'd been curled up on the chair, wincing a bit at the cold floor. "Want some?"

"It's two in the morning," he says in the tone of someone who is very much saying yes, please. He takes a seat even though he could make his own cocoa. "I really shouldn't. But, you're right; it is a bit chilly."

He makes a gesture indicating something small with his thumb and index finger. "Just a little bit?"

"Okay." He gets up, still clutching the quilt, and shuffles about the kitchen getting the kettle heated and the saucepan of milk on the stove. "Whiskey?" That is what he has in his but he hopes Fell doesn't catch onto that.

"I'm surprised to see you awake. Did something go bump in the night?"

Lord, give him strength. And just to confirm his suspicions, he picks up Alec's mug and gives it a sniff.

Even without the next comment, he would have probably said yes to the offer. Might as well participate in the poor decisions. But now--

He can feel his face heating up. The walls really were thin if Alec could hear anything from all the way down here. "No, just the usual creaks of an old house. And, yes. I'll take some whiskey. Please."

He doesn't see the blush but he suspected it anyway. Or that something had happened. As it should, he supposes, but the envy is old by now or else he's used to it and so just continues to stare out the window as he waits for things to come to a boil.

"You know people would get lost on that moor all the time in the old days. This house used to stand guard against it. They'd put a lantern up in the highest windows for people to find safety." A pause. "Of course they also say that safety meant being murdered and stuffed in the basement but frightened people will say anything."

"You may have Anthony twisted in knots, but you won't frighten me with your ghost stories." And Alec was the one sleeping in the basement, besides.

"Anyway, I think it's a terribly romantic notion: the windswept moors, this rickety little house. Like a lighthouse for the sea of hills. Sometimes comfort and shelter takes odd forms."

"For a demon he scares easily." How odd how easy that is to say now. It's ridiculous but it also gives Anty an odd sort of happiness, so why not? He pours milk and cocoa together with a bit more whiskey than he should and stirs it up before setting it before Fell, along with a tin of ginger snaps since he has a feeling. It's a rich and velvety drink with a bite to it and he's sure the man will appreciate it.

For himself he settles in the chair once more, tucking his feet up onto the seat and leaning a shoulder against the backrest.

"Anyway it's local legend. Flavor. They all tell it down in the village. This place houses the souls of the lost and the damned but... Whether that's true or not..." And who knew in these times? "...I think it's a bit lonely, don't you?"

On that, he had to agree. Anthony was so silly sometimes, but it was rather sweet.

His eyes lit up at the tin of ginger snaps and he gave a warm, appreciative smile and a little wiggle, pleased as anything when he opened them up and the bright ginger smell wafted up. Oh, he was so spoiled.

His expression softened. "It's very lonely. I almost feel the souls of the damned would be fine company compared to the solitude of living here by oneself."

"Hm." He shakes his head a little bit, amused at the wiggle, then cradles his mug in his hands and leans back, taking a sip. "I may end up here one day." His voice is a bit rough as he speaks.

And then after a moment.

"Do you think an afterlife exists?"

He looks up, his own throat tight with concern. You're not lost and you're not damned.

"I-" He shakes his head and gives a slight shrug, unable to commit to an answer. After a good sip of cocoa, he adds, "I suppose I should, if I'm to believe what I am. I haven't had much faith over the years, but it's a comfort to think that we will go somewhere that we may see lost loved ones again." He didn't like thinking about death, especially not in the context of Alec, because it felt all too real a near possibility after the scare earlier this year. "I like to think no one is lost, and most are not damned."

"Do you?"

"An angel without faith. Poor bastard." But he isn't really serious. "Except an angel without faith wouldn't believe in people so much, and we need it."

Fell is wrong of course. There are plenty lost and damned. That is the way of the world. As for him...

"I'm Catholic, very lapsed, so I should too theoretically... but I don't know. One life is hard enough isn't it? And now we've got two at once." He shakes his head.

"Sometimes I think there is a benefit of just rest." A smirk. "Aye, but there's the rub, for in such sleep, what dreams may come? When we have shuffled off this mortal coil... " The house groans and he lifts his cup to it. "Some of us.

What makes us bear those ills we have? Than fly to those we know not of? Thus conscience makes cowards of us all..." A sip of cocoa.

"But I am not afraid."

Edited 2020-09-24 06:57 (UTC)

Alec is wrong. He doesn't believe in people, Fell thinks. He believes in some people, of course. The vast majority of them on a good day, except some are very foolish and common sense is in short supply, and he could do without other people's company even on an exceptionally good day... Not very angelic, he thinks, but Alec has always been too kind in his assessment.

Still, Alec manages to make him smile, despite the heavy content. Hamlet, one of his favorites.

But the smile fades with a chill. "What do you mean you're not afraid?"

"Just what I said. Not all of us are effectively immortal." A faint smirk.

He grimaces.

"Alright, but you're not thinking--I mean, you didn't mean--" He looks at the cocoa in front of Alec and is suddenly not so sure about allowing him to keep drinking it after all. "Please promise me you won't be shuffling off this mortal coil any time soon, if you can help it."

"Aye, I promise..." Because 'soon' is relative and so is 'helping it'. He isn't going to fling himself into it after all, despite the nip of whiskey.

"Don't worry so much, Fell. It'll be fine." At this point it almost seems like a kind of destiny, fate perhaps. Here he feels like a brush against his skin or a whisper in the air. One year, maybe two... But there is nothing left he has to do, no responsibilities or anyone relying on him.

He thinks of Daisy briefly and is glad she is in...another life or is just a memory or delusion or whatever these thoughts mean.

"Please stop saying that. For you, perhaps, it will be fine." He takes a long drink of cocoa.

"Aye, for me it will. And isn't it nice to have a say in something for once." He looked away, annoyed and bitter. "Sometimes you just have to be done with things. Sometimes things just have to end. It's the natural part of life."

"I always liked the idea that old cliché about every end being another beginning." He looks over at Alec, feeling guilty, but offers up a hesitant smile anyway. "But I understand. I do. Or I'll try to. And I'll try to respect that when the time inevitably comes--even if I have the power not to."

He snaps a biscuit in half. "But do try to enjoy yourself a little in the meantime? However you like. You could have quite a long time left here and I just want you to be...something like happy. I like you too much not to wish that for you."

He appreciated that, more than he could say. At least someone understood. He didn't want to think about Fell having the power not to, even the recognition of it gave him chills more than any ghost. He tugged the blanket further about himself-- then made a face.

"Happiness is overrated. I wouldn't even know how to do it even if I tried. Anyway, all it does is bring expectation. Why aren't you happy, Alec, why can't you enjoy anything, Alec, for Christ's sake can't you even crack a smile? It's never enough for some people." He grumbled, tucking down his chin.

"I just want to be myself."

Alec is adorable, all bundled up in the blanket. Of course Aziraphale knows him well enough by now not to say that aloud.

"Yes, that does tend to be an unfortunate side effect," he agrees after finishing a bite of biscuit. "But weren't you yourself at the zoo? I thought we had a grand time at the zoo. Of course if you were just appeasing me, feel free to say so and I won't put you through it again."

"Mph..." He didn't know how to answer that question. It was complicated. Yes and no and sort of and not really.

"If that's the case it's easier to be miserable."

He shook his head with a fond, if a little bittersweet, sigh. "Fine, you be miserable. I'll be happy enough for the both of us." He finished off the broken biscuit and started on another, picking up the tin lid to examine the brand and such. "These are really very good."

An equally fond and bittersweet smile back. "You're good at that. You seem so determined to enjoy life regardless of what it throws at you. It's probably partly why Anty is so fond of you."

Cocoa and Sympathy- Fell and Alec

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