Dear Readers,
This fic, first of all, was not at all what I was planning to write yesterday. I wanted to write something, and this came to me...
So, before you read, here are a few things you will need to know for reference (if you don't know them already):
-the real Nikola Tesla had a love for pigeons, especially for one particular white pigeon that he claimed visited him often
-the real NT experienced "white flashes", or, random onsets of hallucinations accompanied by flashes of white light
-George Westinghouse -- one of Tesla's major financial backers
-Dorothy Skerrit -- Tesla's long-time secretary
-"In Pectore"-- Latin for "in the heart"
If you need/want any more info, feel free to look Nikola Tesla up on Wikipedia. He's awesome. Anyway, enjoy, and don't forget to review!
Best regards from a Bookworm (and Tesla fanatic),
Miss Pookamonga ;-P
PS: this is for elly ;)
In Pectore
"Dum spiro spero. While I breathe, I hope."
—Cicero
I looked up at him and cocked my head to the side, trying to comprehend his sudden stillness.
I had never seen him become this still, frozen motionless and staring off into the distance, peering deeply into things that couldn't be seen. It was as if he had been encapsulated in one past moment in time and was trapped there with no way out but for someone to shatter the ice from the outside.
I hopped across the table towards him, skipping delicately over the wires and strange instruments and countless papers tossed chaotically about its surface, until I finally reached his arm. I gave the pale skin on his forearm a sharp peck, hoping that that would rouse him from his silent trance, but when I looked up at his haggard face, he hadn't budged an inch. I cocked my head to the side again, trying to get him to notice my presence, but he remained engraved upon the backdrop of the lab like an unfinished statue emerging from a block of marble.
Nikola, I cooed urgently, pecking him harder this time. We did not speak the same tongue, I knew, but he had always understood my words as I had his. Look at me, Niko.
His fingers suddenly twitched a bit upon the wood of the table, and I quickly scurried to them, cooing more loudly as I did so. Niko, Niko! I continued, nipping at his fingertips in anxious fervor.
Suddenly, he sprung to life, the unexpected gasp of breath wheezing through the air so piercingly that I literally stumbled back in momentary terror, squawking curses. It took me a second to regain my composure, and when I did, I marched up to his trembling, sweaty arm and pecked him fiercely in anger.
You gave me a right fright, you did! I cooed indignantly at him, ruffling my feathers in annoyance.
"OW! Oh, I'm sorry, Little One," he responded, suddenly seeing me standing there. His face twisted into an apologetic smile, and he extended a hand towards me to run his long, adept fingers comfortingly over my wings.
I cooed and nudged his palm with my head, letting him know I'd forgiven him for the sudden scare. He moved his thumb up to stroke the back of my neck, and I then hopped further into the crook of his arm, nuzzling into the fabric of his shirt. His smile grew wider, and that brilliant spark of life returned to his steel blue eyes as he cupped both arms around me and lifted me against the warmth of his chest.
"Sorry," he said again, his smooth voice a whisper now. "I was having…a memory again. You know how they are." His smile faltered a bit.
I snuggled into him and cooed to him gently, hoping to ease away the acute stab of pain the visions always thrust at him. They were the source of his genius, yes, but they were also a source of daily agony, and I hated to see the way each flash left him crumbling just a little bit more every time. One day, I knew, the pain would be too much for him to bear, and the weakly re-forged shards of his spirit would shudder so violently underneath that weight that they would finally tumble apart and shatter into nothing but dust. It didn't matter what his true nature was, that he was destined to live on into eras beyond that of the distant future, untouched by age. The images of things that both had and had never been had worn away at so much of him that no matter how unscathed he would remain on the outside, he was doomed to collapse on the inside…unless someone else could rescue him from his dark fate.
Oh, Niko, I cooed mournfully, burrowing my head into his vest, who will take care of you when I am gone?
"I cannot bear to think of you ever leaving me," he whispered back, his eyes having grown cold and shadowed again, the lonely yearning aching through their gaze.
I shuddered in sorrow and shook my head against his body. But I will, I cooed back woefully. The day will come when I can no longer live, and you will have to persist without me.
His arms suddenly became rigid and icy as the full terror of the truth seeped through him as it had so many times before. But before the fury of denial swept over him once more, there came a firm knock at the door, thus rousing my companion from his thoughts.
"Come in!"
The old wooden door slowly opened with its characteristic creak, and the kind face of Niko's secretary Dorothy Skerrit popped out from behind it. "Mr. Tesla?" she said cautiously, as she always did so as not to disturb him if he happened to be deeply absorbed in his work. "You have a visitor—"
"If it's George, tell him I'm not in the mood to talk business now," he muttered sourly. I could feel the tension build up in his muscles again.
Dorothy smiled sympathetically at Niko's disconcerted expression and gently shook her head. "No, it's not Mr. Westinghouse, sir," she replied softly, the lilt in her voice changing ever so slightly. "It's Miss Helen Magnus."
His head suddenly snapped upward, ice-blue eyes wide in utter surprise. His arms instantly began quivering again, and I quickly shifted my feet to maintain my balance.
"Miss Magnus?" he peeped in the tiniest of voices, like a little child struck by incredulous wonder—or petrifying fear.
"Yes," Dorothy answered, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Should I allow her in or tell her that you are…currently engaged?"
"No, no!" he quickly shouted, much too eagerly. I chuckled knowingly to myself. If there was one woman in the world whom Niko was more in love with than Mrs. Katharine Johnson, it was most certainly Miss Helen Magnus. "You may let her in, Dorothy."
Dorothy said nothing in reply, but her grin widened considerably before she disappeared behind the door again and shut it with another loud creak.
It was only a moment before the door swung open once more and the guest herself emerged from behind it, nodding her head in gratitude at Ms. Skerrit, who nodded back politely and shut the door yet again. And then, there she was, standing there awkwardly in her elegant black dress, gloved hands clasped nervously around her purse as her sky-blue eyes flitted this way and that beneath her small hat and stray golden ringlets.
For a split second, I felt Niko's chest freeze, and all breath ceased as he gazed longingly at her.
If his face hadn't been so consumed by inconsolable sorrow, I might have laughed at how unreservedly smitten he was.
"Hello, Nikola." Her accented voice broke through the silence calmly, like a soft breeze rousing trees from their slumber.
I felt him inhale sharply, his chest jerking forward anxiously and nudging me with its sudden movement. He didn't speak for what seemed like eternity, and the breath he took remained suspended there in his lungs until I decided to lend him a bit of assistance by gently pecking him on the thumb. Immediately, he released his breath into the surrounding air and re-adjusted his posture as his chest relaxed once more.
"Hello, Helen." The voice sounded decidedly more confident than he felt. I could still sense the little tremors quaking throughout his chest as he spoke. "This is a surprise."
She smiled sadly at him, lifting her head and nodding. The small sliver of light creeping past the window curtains fell upon her and illuminated her curls in a ghostly golden glow. If she had not been clothed in that awful, dreary garb, she would have appeared almost as a breathtakingly glorious angel—although that was no doubt how dear Niko always envisioned her.
"I was going to write you—tell you I was coming to New York," she replied softly, her eyes fluttering towards the floorboards again. I could feel Niko's fingers fiddling fretfully with my feathers as I listened to his heart skip a few beats upon seeing the delicate movement on her face. "But I…" She lifted her head up to stare absently at the ceiling, purposely avoiding his gaze. "I just never got the chance." She bit her lip and let her eyes roam everywhere around the expanse of the room except to Niko's face.
"Oh." I could feel the cold sweat on his arms soaking through my feathers. There was a short, tense pause. "What are you doing in New York?"
At that, the sad smile crossed her lips again, and she turned her head to look him uneasily in the eye. "Had to get away," she whispered, her eyes glistening in the waning sunlight. "I can't really stay in London much anymore."
They stood utterly still for a moment, the weight of her words bearing down on upon both pairs of shoulders, until Niko suddenly took a small step forward. His palms tightened their grip around my body as he did so, and I knew that this was yet another moment when he needed my presence the most…to grant him a tiny piece of true confidence, because he was much too accustomed to feigning it by now.
"Are things—"
"Well, going well, yes," she answered hastily, drawing in a deep breath. "James is doing wonderfully…but it's just, well…"
"I know," he interrupted softly, taking another few steps forward despite the intensifying quaking in his body.
"I've heard so much…so much about you," she said, a brief smile lighting her face once again. "Your work…"
Niko chuckled and shook his head, lifting his eyes to survey his laboratory. "Yes, well, a genius…must keep busy, or his mind will surely falter." The joke fell flat with his darkening eyes.
It was Miss Magnus who stepped forward this time, closing most of the gap between us and leaving only a foot's space, her skirts rustling quietly as she moved. A cold shudder stirred through Niko's body at her sudden closeness. "I've been worried about you," she murmured, leaning towards him. Her eyes were so large with grief and concern—a concern that perfectly mirrored my own.
I sensed his body lean forward slightly, and his sad eyes traveled tenderly over her figure, expressing more love and desire than he could ever hope to capture in words.
"God, Nikola, you frighten me…the thought of what you could do to yourself…what this—" she swept a hand over the laboratory—"could do to you—"
"This is my life's work," he interrupted with a sudden fierceness, as his body stiffened. "You think I could live without this? This is the future, Helen—you of all people should understand…you live for it as well as I—"
"I have nothing against the nature of your work," she cut in, her voice still soft but laden with a heavy weariness. "But does it wear away at you? Does it…does it tear away a bit of your soul every day, every minute you sacrifice your life to it, like my work does to me? You don't understand, Nikola…I'm responsible for you…for all of you—" Her voice suddenly broke and she turned away from him swiftly in shame as the tears began streaming down her face.
His fingers clutched at my wings, but the stiffness fell from the rest of his body as his expression softened. "Helen…" He cautiously moved towards her.
She flinched away, lifting a gloved hand to her cheeks. "I just needed to see…that you were really all right…that you hadn't gone completely mad…like Nigel…and…and…"
"Helen," he whispered again, stepping even closer. He lifted an arm away from my body and gently laid his hand on her arm.
She jumped a little and pivoted back around to look at him, surprised at the sudden contact. For a moment their eyes locked and they gazed silently at each other, blue entwining with blue, two shattered spirits forging together into a whole for one solitary flash in time.
It was the first time in a long time that I had ever seen Nikola look so…complete.
And then, as quickly as it had come, the flash descended into darkness, and the moment was gone.
But his hand, still trembling slightly, remained upon her arm.
"Come have dinner with me tonight," he murmured in a low voice, his eyes pleading beyond what the decorum of speech would allow. "At the Waldorf…as long as you are in town…" His voice drifted off into the stillness of the air.
She nodded quietly, eyes desperately searching the contours his face for that lost moment that they had just shared. My little heart could not help but ache for her brokenness as well as for Niko's. "All right," she replied softly. "When…?"
"In an hour. I'll meet you there…" His voice trailed off again, his silence once more speaking more words than he could say aloud.
She nodded once more and gulped back the remaining tears. "Right…then. I should go…wash up." There was an awkward pause before she straightened herself and lifted her chin with whatever confidence she had left in her.
Niko's hand dropped limply from her arm.
"I will see you in an hour, then," she finally said when he didn't respond to her. He merely nodded. I could feel an eerie coldness shiver up and down his arm, and I shuddered at its icy touch. His eyes had grown even darker and emptier than before, and he was staring through her, reliving memories I couldn't see but could sense buzzing throughout his body.
"Nikola?"
He shook from his trance and nodded vacantly at her, bringing his free arm back up to curl around me again. I nuzzled into it not for my warmth, but for his. He was so deathly cold—like frozen ice. I was terrified for a split second that he had lost all the humanity within him.
But he broke the silence finally by letting a soft "yes" slip past his lips, his eyes remaining intently focused on Miss Magnus, his mind intertwining the visions of his past with the image of the present. "I will see you."
Miss Magnus let one last brief smile flit across her face. Time froze yet again, and the golden sunlight stilled, preserving her angelic features within its rays before she finally shattered the moment to turn and walk slowly out the door without so much as a glance back.
I watched him stare forlornly at the empty space she had just occupied, the remnants of her image still floating in the sliver of gold. A ghostly silence drifted through the air, settling eerily upon the entire room.
Niko, I cooed soothingly, trying in vain to comfort him.
"She can never love me," he suddenly whispered back in such a small voice that I could barely hear him.
I cocked my head up to stare incredulously at him. Don't say that.
"But it is true," he replied dejectedly, gazing down at me with such a terrible sadness in his eyes that I could hardly bear to look at his face. "She will always love him, no matter what may come her way."
You don't know that, I cooed firmly, nipping him on the wrist.
He sighed, and I felt the weight of his spirit plummet along with his breath.
Oh, Niko, I thought sadly, if only you could see how much she wants to love you.
I would have told him out loud, but I knew in my heart that he would never believe me. So I was left to sit there in his cold arms, hoping that one day the golden light would let them both see what lay concealed in each other's heart.
For she was the only one who could care for him after time would steal me away. She was the only one I knew who could watch over his broken soul into eternity. And she was the only one who could love him with a greater devotion than even I could ever hope to give him.