san_fransokyo | and i'm feeling like a ghost (openish?)

and i'm feeling like a ghost (openish?)

An overcast sunset. Perhaps not the best time to visit San Fransokyo's burial grounds, but it was a time when there were few if any visitors. Which meant it was at least a good time for someone still dead in a sense, even if his original 'death' had been revealed for the falsehood it was.

They hadn't yet removed his memorial, though. It was starting to run down from time, but it was fitting that it still remained in place.

He certainly didn't feel alive.

Robert Callaghan gazed down at the plaque with an unhappy expression. It wasn't so much the fact that it was present as how useless it all felt. Pointless. Abigail's, at least, had held some actual meaning...even if it, too, paid homage to a soul who wasn't actually lost.

And wasn't that a thought that brought mixed feelings. He shook his head and turned away, the few microbots with him pressing a bit deeper in to the back of his neck. He reached up to push away at them irritably, wholly unsurprising when their response was to skitter on to his hand and up his loose sleeve.

He was getting used to them, at least, and the thought necessary to keep the mass away.

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Too many false smiles with no point behind them. It's not as if the both of them can't tell when the other is putting up a front. When tender subjects are being avoided or outright ignored.

Nothing special. Tadashi doesn't have to know particulars to know he's being brushed off. It's not unexpected, of course. When will he learn to just stop asking?

"Are things still... volatile?"

On the bad side of town, that is. Among those disgusting people that Tadashi knows Robert must be associating with in some way in order to continue on while keeping such a low profile.

It keeps a fragile but precious front, a white lie- because to remove all pretenses is something that Robert, at least, is not quite prepared to do. That damn mask is becoming more a part of him than he'd care to admit.

But the smile does fade at the question, a bit of a pensive expression coming on to his face. Personal feelings aside...

"...I'm starting to think think they never weren't."

Not that things aren't bad over there, but- wretchedness aside, there's a certain fascination it holds. Were he a sociologist, he'd be in heaven.

"It's a different place there. Different rules." Ones he's still learning, but at least playing the silent type isn't too difficult to do when you have little to say in the first place. "Different...everything, really."

They're both trying to protect themselves, the difference between them being that Tadashi is still willing to cast that protection aside in favor of doing what he thinks is best for someone else. Even if that someone else wants nothing to do with it.

"You're being careful, aren't you?"

Because he has to ask. And imagining trying to survive among that crowd himself is just laughable. Even for the professor Tadashi had once known, it just doesn't seem to fit.

An odd question. Callaghan furrows his brow at it.

"Of course."

He mostly survives it by wearing the silent mask, letting his disdain and pride serve as shields- thankfully, it's generally accepted, and he speaks as little as possible.

But he is still speaking. "As much as I can," he amends, a moment later. "I told your brother- I'm not out to cause trouble, in case any of you can't sleep at night."

There might be a hint of bitterness there.

The incredibly intimidating army of microbots might also be a factor in his successful survival, at least on the physical end of things. Tadashi's still remembers what it was like to be tossed around by those things, and how lucky he was that Robert was there to help rather than harm.

That tone has him back to frowning, but this time right at Robert rather than at the ground.

"Is it really so wrong to be worried?"

To that...Robert manages to curl his lip, just slightly, eyes narrowing a fraction as well.

"The only one I ever went after was Krei."

All other times, he was simply responding to those who went after him - and returning the favor. Is he proud of what he did? Not particularly.

Does it mean he wouldn't do it all over again?

...he's not sure, in all honesty, and it's a question he doesn't much like dwelling upon.

Tadashi blinks, lines forming between his eyebrows as they furrow. That wasn't what he'd meant...

It's a valid concern, though, the things Callaghan might do. He's still far from being able to put the past behind him. Far from being able move on and live a life even close to the one he's already thrown away. Still too reliant on anger and lies as he pushes through each day. Still too quick to lash out, replaying hurt with hurt...

This is the same man that Tadashi caught sharing space with his bleeding brother after having broken into their home, after all. He has every right to be to be wary, and he is... but the slightly hurt expression that sneaks onto his face tells of more that simple suspicion.

"I meant worried about you."

He'd been caught up in preparing to defend himself, that he hadn't realized that Tadashi hadn't been on the 'attack' at all. It clearly takes him off-guard; he blinks once, the anger in his face draining away like water through a hole in a glass.

And for a long few moments, the only thing he can do is stare back, those words processing over in his head. His gaze drops for some of those, brow furrowing in - consternation, perhaps. A trace of guilt, maybe, because this is the boy whose first thought upon hearing he was still inside a burning building was to go in after him.

"...I'll be fine, Tadashi."

No bitterness there, no defensiveness. Just...resignation, if anything.

"You're not "fine"."

The retort slips out before Tadashi realizes it, surprise at his own words showing clearly on his face. He only waffles for a moment before forcing that surprise away and replacing it with that determination that Robert's so familiar with.

He may not have meant to say it, but he did, and he means it, so he might as well own it.

"I mean... we're standing in a cemetery with our own graves in it. Lying is pretty silly at this point, isn't it?"

He laughs a little, but it's flat and humorless. His body's natural reaction, trying to lighten the mood even as the young man behind it shoves what remained of his aforementioned protection aside.

"You don't have to lie to me."

This time, when his face tightens, it's not from anger. Frustration, yes, but...not outright anger.

"What sort of truth are you looking for, then?" he asks, demands really, making a vague gesture at the graves. "The kind that has me admitting this is essentially a midlife crisis?" A bitter laugh, and a hand reaching up to rub at his face. "I suppose it's better than lying on the couch all day, but- not by much."

Besides, he already went through that. Once.

"Things aren't fine. They will be. Eventually."

He has to believe he'll find a way.

"I just want you to stop trying to brush me off!"

The words come out louder than intended, and Tadashi quickly reins his voice in, but his expression doesn't change.

"I'm not stupid. I understand what's happening here. I hate what you did and I hate what you're doing." His hat crumples in his grip again, fingers tight for a few moments before they loosen again, the rest of his posture loosening with them. "But I don't hate you. I-"

He cuts himself off, drawing in a deep breath and holding it for a few seconds before releasing a heavy sigh.

"I just want the truth from you, whatever it is."

Because if anyone is owed the truth, it's Tadashi.

Tadashi's blindness is both touching and...well, even more frustrating. By all rights, he should hate Callaghan, for his undeniable role in the fire and therefore his death- his assaults on his friends, even if he was defending himself and his then-interests.

But he doesn't. He's still looking for the best in people. If Robert was a bit less tense about the entire situation - both here in the graveyard, and with life in general - he might be affected more than an unpleasant sensation in his chest. He knows exactly what it is, but he swallows, pushing it down, because this isn't-

"The truth is you should be staying away from me. You and everyone else. This isn't a matter of brushing you off, this is for your own safety!" Standard precaution, if something is dangerous, you treat it with caution, and if you have no need of it- you don't go looking for it!

Why can't Tadashi grasp this simple concept?

"Why don't you hate me?" he demands a moment later. "Do you think you can still pull me out of a fire, here?" Because the way he says it, he seems to rather doubt that.

"I didn't exactly come out here looking for you."

He learned his lesson that night in Yama's territory, thank you very much. Hell, Tadashi's still not entirely sure why he came out here in the first place anyway, but it definitely wasn't to look for Callaghan. Whatever the reason, following that morbid curiosoty was definitely a mistake. Between seeing his own grave and now this (whatever this conversation with Robert is)... he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little rattled.

Words he never intended to voice keep escaping. He keeps catching his volume fluctuating. He's still clinging to calm, but he can only hold so tight. Every angry warning and frustrated demand from Robert chips chips away at his grip a little more and eventually a few things are bound to slip.

"Because you're the closest thing I've had to a father since I was eight years old."

Like that.

Point to Tadashi for that; this is a matter of poor coincidence, then. The burden is on him, then, to solve this mistake, and he's just starting to turn away when Tadashi makes his outburst.

And he goes still.

Oh.

Taken so aback, Callaghan can't find a response, only managing to look back towards Tadashi with an expression somewhere between baffled and incredulous. And...perhaps a little pained, because it's clearly hit a nerve of some sort.

"I..."

How can he even respond to that?

Another slip and large part of Tadashi wants to look away, to walk away, because... what kind of response can he expect to that? He braces himself for yelling, or even outright rejection, his own confusion showing clearly for several moments when it doesn't come. No anger or forced distance, at least not for the moment. This is a chance.

When Callaghan turns back around Tadashi sets his jaw, back straight as he pushes on.

"You're the one who taught us to push the limits. To never give up."

There were no stipulations included in that lesson, and Tadashi's never been the sort of student to confine those lessons to just the classroom. He counts Robert as family whether he likes it or not. Strange, difficult family who's currently traveling a long path of very stupid decisions, but still family.

And you don't give up on family.

The lesson didn't have any stipulations for good reason; because it wasn't supposed to be confined. It was supposed to be a life lesson, to push them forwards long past they had left the classroom, and when they were going on to shape the world. To challenge the rules and expectations they had been told, and to break them if necessary.

Much like Robert himself has, of late, but in doing so he has wondered how far is too far.

He furrows his brow, not quite shaking his head, but- words are hard to find at the moment. Even so, he has to say something, and it's with a vague little gesture if his hand by his head that he manages, "Tadashi..."

It's a start.

"...I am not a good father figure to have." And just in case there's an argument, he pushes further, words almost stumbling over one another in their haste to escape. "Especially in light of the fire, and everything else I've done-!"

He's not admitting he was wrong. Not yet. But he is admitting that these are not actions which should be idolized.

Tadashi shakes his head, but doesn't look away, waiting for a break in that rushed response to insert his own.

"Maybe not now. But you were."

Like Robert, his words come faster as he continues to talk, as if he's afraid of being cut off before he's managed to voice his thoughts. There are things that need to be said, that Robert needs to hear, and currently no one else with a better chance of making that happen.

No more slips. Just let it flow.

"Things are the way they are as a consequence of decisions you've made. That we've all made, but decisions... they're in the moment. You make them and you have to live with them, but every day brings new ones."

His lips draw into a thin line, pausing only a moment as he shakes his head again. In response to Callaghan? Or to himself? In the end it doesn't really seem to matter.

"I don't regret my decision."

This is all too reminiscent of when they were on the rooftops, when he was leading Tadashi back towards safety. This time, though, he can't just push Tadashi down- away, even, and the lack of escape is somewhat agitating all on its own.

He's dealt with this enough in the quiet of an empty room, why does it need to be brought up again? Moreover-

"...you don't understand. I can't tell if I do or don't my own-!"

There's a pain in his voice, the agony of someone faced with what should be a simple and easy decision. Logically, he knows what he's done; he's broken laws, he's taken steps to hurt people, he's taken steps to kill people and in one case succeeded, though it wasn't the one he was after. All of these, logically, should be horrific to him, and perhaps on some level they are- they go against what he's grown with, what he's learned over time, all these rules and boundaries that society sets in place for the greater good.

Emotionally? Krei never stopped cutting corners. There would have been more Abigails, more lost daughters and sons and children, but closer to home was his Abigail gone from his mistakes. A wrong demanded to be righted, damn the consequences, and he gave in to that and pushed against those boundaries as he gave in to his desire for vengeance and the need to fix this the only way he, as a man, as a father, could.

And then it was over. Abigail was back, but he'd lost a student, and everything he'd worked so hard for over the years. He was facing years in prison, the distress of what family he'd regained, and then-

-then an opening, and he couldn't help but take it because it felt as though he was drowning and it was the only lifeline he could see. He may barely be able to keep his head above the water, even now, but to do anything else is to let go of that rope and risk never coming back up at all.

Edited 2014-12-08 05:35 (UTC)

"I do understand."

Tadashi chances a few steps forward, carefully closing the distance between them. Cutting off any escape he might find. He won't be able to push Tadashi away this time. If Robert wants out, he's going to have to be the one to turn away and keep walking without looking back.

Turn away from the one person who should hate him the most, but somehow, miraculously, does not.

"You got your daughter back. If you hadn't done what you did, she'd still be gone, but you lost everything else"

A distinguished career, the respect of his peers, the trust of his students, and what about Abigail? Had he even gotten the chance to speak with her again? Explain himself? Apologize?

"You can be glad for what you have and still regret what's lost."

Edited 2014-12-08 06:52 (UTC)

It's not hard to see that he does want out; there are numerous tells in his posture, and the way a foot shifts away certainly speaks of following it and leaving. But...he doesn't. Perhaps some small part of him is desperate for this trace of respect he still has left, buried under all his misdeeds, and unwilling to cut that off in whole when it's so blatant in front of him.

He reaches up with a hand, rubbing- covering his face, veiling the pained twisting of his expression.

"I don't...have...anything."

Tadashi reaches out and lays a hand on Robert's wrist, tugging gently to try and pull that hand away from his face while tilting his own head to try and meet the older man's eyes.

Even without the mask Robert's still trying to hide, but Tadashi's smiling, cautiously hopeful.

"However much it might mean, I'm still here."

Edited 2014-12-09 02:57 (UTC)

It's hard to see his eyes, downcast as they are, but they do look upwards- slightly. And there's a short little hnh to go with the motion, but there's only the slightest of resistance to go with Tadashi's gentle tug.

Robert's not smiling. He looks tired. And he doesn't say anything for a few moments, because short of reiterating how confused he is as to why Tadashi's still here - what is there to say?

"...it wasn't supposed to be like this."

Other than a murmur that sounds childish even to his own ears.

It pulls at something inside to see his former professor like this, but it fuels his hope as well. Even if Callaghan won't voice it, Tadashi can see the regret. Hear it. It's practically rolling off off of the older man.

Remember that hug Tadashi tried for the night Callaghan saved him? Well he's trying for it again, and this time without microbots holding his feet in place.

"I know."

No one could've known how things would end up.

Oh, there's certainly a regret there. And a distress for what things have become. He meant what he said, when he wasn't altogether sure he regretted it all, but parts of it? Parts he knows went wrong, there's not even a question to it.

And though he stiffens at first, he doesn't pull away. Though his free hand comes up to Tadashi's shoulder...it doesn't push him away, either, though there is the pressure of his weight as he leans upon it for a few moments and allows himself to wallow in this grief.

He doesn't know what to do. Everything seemed so deceptively simple, at the trade show, and yet it all went to hell and back.

If Robert's not going to push him away, then Tadashi's just going to tighten his hold. Not too much. Not enough to make the other man feel trapped, but enough to make it clear that this isn't a token gesture.

Tadashi still a young man, but he's spent the majority of his short life teaching himself how to care for people. He's practically stuffed his head with a whole extra profession and channeled that knowledge into a robot meant to revolutionize healthcare and better mankind. He could code 10,000 different medical procedures in 10,000 different ways, but sometimes? The simplest ways are best.

This isn't happening because they're out of words for the situation, but because the most important thing for Robert to know right now is that he doesn't have to be alone. The situation is complicated, maybe almost impossible to deal with, but he still has a lifeline left should he choose to reach for it.

Tadashi's voice is quiet when he finally speaks again, as if he's afraid that too loud a sound will destroy this strange progress that they've made.

"I can't tell you what to do, but I want to help."

don't even think about it old man

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keywords, and throws the song on youtube for the heck of it

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