Chapter Seven: The Waiting Game
With the slightest rustle of a shrub, Elizabeth stepped just to her left to watch her house by far and to note into which room she should appear in that would make her parents the least angry.
"So, it's about time."
Ian was on the ground, laying in a very carefully calculated spot of grass where you could see the half moon through the trees and a moss-covered rock could provide some lower back support. He pulled out his bright yellow ear buds and continued with, "It's been four days, and with every hour, it gets harder to explain why your friends are having some kind of adventure in Helsinki without any outside communication."
"Well, then just- what's that in your mouth!" Elizabeth stepped on the pipe that Ian held in his hand. "What is that? Italian Lightning? Huruclean? How did you get that kind of money?"
Ian breathed a stream out, but didn't mind once Elizabeth grabbed the pipe and emptied its contents. "Gerrycup. It's a flower that I found in the corner of the park. Dunno if it's hallucinogenic, but it's pretty smooth once you tweak it a bit. So you a time traveler, yet?"
"Ian, these things take time. Once Mr. Allen gets settled, he'll have to thank me somehow and-"
"And what if he doesn't? What if he continues to be the obnoxious bastard he has been for the past four centuries?" He started the drum on his stomach and look longingly at the moon.
She sat down beside him, but didn't lay herself onto the ground. "I know he's an obnoxious bastard, but he's a powerful obnoxious bastard that will give thanks to where it is due. He does have principles. Not many, but some. He will get back to me. How could future me go back to past me if he didn't?"
Ian replied with a smooth, "And what if they get to him first? What if Mum and Dad find out he's alive and their little neighborhood watch group strikes him dead again?"
"They won't. The government'll protect him from everything, a million times more than they did before."
"Don't be daft. How was it that I could see you, then? I just thought of you, and I saw you there, in that little office with him and her and a little girl with bright blonde hair. Now just think, someone with even basic clairvoyance tries to look for him before he gets his protection. Then, that rumor spreads around. An hour later, London grabs their torches and pitchforks, and bam!" He popped his lips. "Dead."
Elizabeth drew a sharp breath. "It won't happen."
"Foolish Beth. Always so foolish. He's got more opposition now. Much more. People are smarter. People are coming to realize that perhaps Year Zero wasn't a terrible accident. They just don't do anything about it because there's nothing to do. But, then, if that one man responsible for it was still alive, someone would have to do something, aye? He's risking his life just being on this plane of existence."
She blinked and said lightly, "Well, fine. Which ever."
"That's all you have to say for yourself?"
"Ian, I've come to the fact that if it happens, if he gets killed, then fine. At least I tried. I really don't care if Dad massacres me, or if I get sentenced for time traveling, or if nothing happens at all because no one knows anything about it. But, for what it's worth, I went to 1790 and got lost in Revolutionary Paris. I used my ability to its full potential, and for once, I was rid of this world. You can call me foolish, but I'm fine with that. I'm okay with being foolish."
For once, Ian stopped talking. He stared at the moon. Time passed.
"Beth?"
"Yeah?"
He directed his eyes at her. "Saying that hasn't made you any more wiser," he said.
"Thank you, Ian," she said.
If there was one thing that Adam quite enjoyed, but seldom got to do, it was choosing a new name. This time, before the white collared man with a large clipboard, he did so. He smiled, and once asked he did it smoothly, seamlessly, flawlessly:
"Anthony Watson."
With that he nudged Kate in the arm to make sure she was following.
She was less enthusiastic. "And Katherine Watson and this here is Clarisse Watson."
The man took down their names and asked them to move through the doors. At the current time, they were in a well-lit entrance hall that looked more like a slab of a corridor with heavy duty carpeting. But, once they waited near ten minutes in a queue to give the man their new names and the slip of paper, they entered the next room, and unpleasantly saw that their wait had meant nothing at all.
The room, more accurately described as a recycled warehouse, wasn't that large, although someone somehow fit three rows of bunk beds down that made for two aisles of concrete flooring. Between these aisles, there were people, so many that it made them wonder how the noise could be kept out of the first room. The people who made the most noise seemed to be the ones having a heated conversation in a multitude of languages. The second most noisy were the children, who screamed and ran through the maze of people and personal belongings that had no other place to go but the ground. Then, there were the crowd in the middle of these ages, having more conversation over a radio and a bag of crisps. Finally, there seemed to be a great amount of people that laid or leaned upon the beds, reading a book, listening to their ear buds, or just trying to relax.
This is what Kate saw. She was not expecting this, but she had to admit herself foolish for thinking it was going to be the same as when she left. She kissed her daughter's head, for there was a recent transfer of arms, and asked Adam if he saw a free spot.
What Adam saw was despair. He saw people with weak smiles and baggy eyes from stress and uncertainty. He saw people that hadn't taken showers in days, but they still scratched themselves in sweaters and assured each other that it was worth the wait. He saw people talking in small circles about their past, their insufferable city or ignorant community. Then, there were others making bets on how far and long the war would go.
"Ah, there's one. Do you see it? Just past-- Joseph, come on, before someone steals it," Kate murmured, taking Adam's limp hand, and bringing his rigid body to move. He followed her, though no petty joke nor sarcastic remark escaped his lips.
The spot had a bottom half of a bunk bed since the top was taken by a young woman who said that she couldn't stand staying with her in-laws, so she found her own bed, but they were very welcome to share. Each bed seemed to come with a set of a pillow, a disposable pillow case, a sheet, and one thinly made gray blanket. The girl from the top bunk offered some of her cookies, and Kate found herself very hungry. In a matter of minutes, she made friends with the families around her, sharing a dinner of marshmallows, tomatoes, almonds, and pretzels with her daughter.
"How long is the wait?" she asked one rounded man with a thick mustache.
He shrugged, replying in a heavy Spanish accent, "From what I hear, two or three days, but there have been some to only wait a few hours."
Upon hearing this, Adam's fingers twitched. He was sitting on the bed with his back against the support, knees propped up and head cradled in the crossed arms between them. He had not eaten anything, claiming that he was suffering from a headache and wasn't hungry. Kate felt for him, but could do nothing as long as they were in such an insecure area. Anyone could be listening. For this reason, it was even harder to speak with Clarisse.
"Mommy, where is this place?" she had asked.
Kate had to reply with, "Do you remember London, that place Mommy and Daddy always told stories about?"
"But, Julie-Rene said there wasn't any place like that. She said there was a place called London in England, but she said it was nothing like you and Daddy said it was. She said it was just like Paris, but with a lot more crazy people."
It almost made her smile, and the few around that understood the French just had to grin with all the cute innocence. "Yes, that's the one. London, England. All those stories were true and it is a real place. Once we get out of here, I'll show you everything. There's the Thames, the Eye, Westminister Palace. It's beautiful. You'll like it a lot more than Paris, I promise you. We just have to stay here for a few days, first."
"I'm going for a smoke," said Adam, getting up and immediately walking down the aisle, even though he didn't have anything to smoke in his pocket.
A/N: Ah, the show is getting good again, but despite Angela's dreams, still no Adam! Ah, alas. I'm currently writing the homestretch of this fanfiction, and I look back on all these chapters and see how insane I am for writing them. I go through cycles typically, and my muse for these things is like a sugar rush, but now I'm kind of in a sugar crash and want to get this done. It's getting harder, but it's still fun. It's really been fun.