Reaching High

Sam found work a struggle to focus on when he had so many things suddenly occuring in his personal life. The odd and disturbing revelations with Remi, his painful experience in the Spire, his new roommate...all of it was swirling in the back of his mind and making concentrating on the distant happenings of history and myth, of the uncertain futures before them...it felt like it could not matter less to him. But sometimes it offered a good escape, so he tried to set to it at least every couple of days. The obligation of sorting his logbook for the guild came first, then he could research for his project. While he did often find it difficult nowadays to get his mind in the right gear, it was hard to deny just how fascinating the tomes in the Atheneum were. This day, he was trying to find an obscure detail on a kind of armour popular several decades ago. He knew there had to be a name for the specific shoulder piece he needed a reference on, but whatever it was was eluding him and he knew he'd have to look it up. He saw a promising book up on the top of a tall shelf, something black and he knew mythical-related. It was a starting point at least. But there was a problem: it was very high, and he was not a tall man. Dragging a chair over he unsteadily climbed on it, wobbling on the edge on his toes as he reached up for the book, the clattering of the chair's legs against the floor echoing through the Atheneum. It was clear without assistance he would soon fall, but Sam's attention was entirely on the book. Samuel At seventeen, I started to starve myself I thought that love was a kind of emptiness And at least I understood then the hunger I felt And I didn't have to call it loneliness

now there's a space too wide

"Careful—" Remi called suddenly. He had noticed Sam shuffling by, and then had spent several moments trying very to hard to stop noticing him. But of course that was all but impossible, and so not for the first time in his life, the alchemist was in a library trying very hard to notice a librarian-of-sorts with whom he'd been involved. Remi had told Sam the truth when he said he did not want to know him. It was too painful after what the bookmaker had done, to willingly put his heart—or even his friendship—back on the line. But that did not mean that the alchemist had stopped caring, that he had stopped noticing or thinking about the man who had caused him so much pain.

And so as Sam began to wobble, the alchemist dropped (literally) what he was doing and rushed forward. With an arm outstretched as if he meant to grab at Sam's waist to steady him, Remi's fingers stopped as if he'd hit an invisible wall, finger tips ghosting near the fabric of Sam's shirt.

that's left us with wondering eyes

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Sam was not expecting a voice, having been so wrapped up in his task that he hadn't been aware of anyone else in the Atheneum. That the voice was so clearly Remi's (already, he recognised the accent) shocked him further and he turned automatically, finally tipping the chair back and sending him flying off it -- right into Remi's hesitant, almost-helpful hands (and indeed the rest of him).. The fall dazed him and he for a moment only felt the physical, the pain in his knees having smacked the stone floors and the flipping of his stomach. But soon enough he noticed Remi beneath him and his eyes widened. It would be embarrassing enough with anyone else, of course. But with Remi it was nearly unbearable. Not only had they had their tense meeting a week before but he'd had time now to read his diaries, had seen just how wondrous and turbulent their past really was. Words like love and future and in the last entry, not good enough for him and doomed; it had been a harrowing read, one that had made him determined to avoid the Alchemist as much as he could. "I'm-I'm so. I'm so sorry." He said hurriedly, trying to pick himself up off Remi and the floor. Samuel At seventeen, I started to starve myself I thought that love was a kind of emptiness And at least I understood then the hunger I felt And I didn't have to call it loneliness

now there's a space too wide

For a moment Sam felt weightless. Remi's outstretched palm supported the bookmaker for a flawless second before it all came crashing down. Literally. The alchemist felt himself thrown backwards, his body having been prepared to brace but not properly catch the man who had been balanced so precariously. And so once again, Remi was falling. Falling because of Sam, falling for Sam, and falling with Sam, and just as it had done in the past, it hurt.

Elbows and tailbone striking the hair ground, the alchemist felt the wind knocked entirely from his body, though he hardly felt it. Instead all he could sense was the weight of Sam upon him, the nearness and how his fingers were still wrapped around the bookmaker's waist as if the fall could still somehow be prevented by his grip.

For a breathless moment Remi could only look wonderingly and helplessly up at the man astride him, misremembered dreams and midnight-musings of what it had been like before dancing in the back of his mind and sending curious sparks throughout his body as if his limbs might still remember.

And then—

—as Sam rolled off and oxygen flooded back into Remi's lungs, the alchemist exhaled a long and shuttering breath as he winced a sort of nod of forgiveness, leaning forward to prop himself up on one elbow. "Are you alright?" The alchemist asked, the gentle concern in his voice warm and evident.

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The warmth in Remi's voice surprised Sam, his paranoid brain having expected the other man to yell and attack him; but, his rational side told him, that wasn't Remi. He had only met the man a few times as far as he remembered but everything in his lived experiences and in his diaries spoke of someone gentle, kind by nature who did not hold grudges, someone whom he really must have hurt to have hurt the pain in his voice before. "..I think so, yes." He said after checking his hands over. A little bruising, but nothing bad enough to really be a problem. Finally moving entirely off Remi and going to sit leaning on a nearby shelf he looked him over. "And..are you alright? I didn't...know it was you. Didn't think you'd..." ..Ever come close again didn't quite get spoken, Sam suddenly wondering if it was awkward to acknowledge the space and tension between them. "..I just didn't know you were in the Atheneum today." Samuel At seventeen, I started to starve myself I thought that love was a kind of emptiness And at least I understood then the hunger I felt And I didn't have to call it loneliness

now there's a space too wide

At his side, Remi's hand twitched slightly, an idea in his mind of grabbing at Sam before he could pull away, to drag him back down and...and what? Kiss him? Hold him? Find some way to communicate how he felt in a way that might make his heart start to mend? And so his finger twitched, waiting for his brain to make a decision, but Sam pulled away and so the alchemist merely swept his fingertips across his eyes and nodded.

"I am—" fine? No. Unhurt? Only physically. And so Remi merely left it at that with a nod.

Sitting up as well and leaning against the shelf across from Sam, Remi idly brushed away some of the dust on his knees as he nodded. "Jigano had said I could come by...I was...looking for information." Obviously, he thought with a critical sort of inward sigh. "Ronin is...back. Alive." The alchemist continued, glancing across at Sam. For a moment the information seemed significant, since it was the inciting incident that had apparently torn the two irreparably apart, but then quickly Remi remembered that Sam no longer did. Remember, that was.

"I was just wondering if there were accounts of it having happened before." He concluded with a bit of an awkward cough and half-smile, mostly unable to meet Sam's gaze.

that's left us with wondering eyes

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Remi seemed able to sit up and talk at least, even though he didn't really answer Sam's question, so he was at least not critically injured. He watched the other man climb up to lean against the opposite shelf and felt himself oddly disappointed he had not sat closer; ridiculous given well, everything, but Sam still felt the little ache in his chest where once a human heart had beat and hoped. Though any thoughts of Remi being close were momentarily pushed away when the reason for his visit was revealed. Ronin...alive? Perhaps without the context of Remi's friendship Sam did not know as much about the man as he once had, but he still knew death at the Spire was...well. Permanent. His shock showing on his face he frowned and chewed at his lip, considering. "Well. I am not aware of that happening before. I certainly haven't heard of it. But...if your friend, if Ronin, is back. Could you ask him about his experience? Maybe he could come here and tell us about it for the records. Is he...well? Fit?" Sam drew his knees up to his chest, his anxiousness in speaking to Remi still obvious but curiosity taking over. Samuel At seventeen, I started to starve myself I thought that love was a kind of emptiness And at least I understood then the hunger I felt And I didn't have to call it loneliness

now there's a space too wide

"He does not remember much. For a time he was with Vanya in the stars, just where Safrin had placed him, and then...he was not. He fell back to the ground and just..was. Or, is, I suppose. His body is changed though—" Without thinking through the implications of how Remi would have known this ("He was naked when he arrived, and I have seen him naked many times before.."), he cleared his throat and ruffled a hand boyishly through his curls. "I mean it is like he is in a new body. He has no scars, is not as strong as he once was..." Vaguely Remi shook his head and shrugged.

The idea that Ronin might come in and tell of his experience made the alchemist chuckle under his breath. "You could ask him. Ronin is not really the type to come and dictate his autobiography though." The alchemist said with a wry smile. "It might be easier to have someone go and ask him."

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Sam found Ronin's story sad, really. Yes, it ended with him alive, but...wouldn't he rather be in the stars with his beloved? It sounded wonderful. But Sam supposed they were very different kinds of people and there was a child involved, which always made things complicated. "Is he...happy to be back?" He asked, unsure if losing his scars and strength was something devestating. "Once he promised to tell me some winter songs from his home. He never did, but of course, he was a busy man. If I tied him down to it I'm sure he might give me an account of what he remembers." Speaking of memories reminded him terribly of the great wedge between he and Remi, the odd invisible past that was making him consider every word he said. He looked up to the book he had been trying to reach. It was hanging just out of the shelf now, his fingers having moved it a little but not enough for him to actually make it drop. "...The shelves here are too tall for me." He said with a little chuckle, unsure of what else to say. Samuel At seventeen, I started to starve myself I thought that love was a kind of emptiness And at least I understood then the hunger I felt And I didn't have to call it loneliness

now there's a space too wide

Remi smiled lightly and nodded, amused that both he and Sam had thought to ask Ronin the same question. "Yes, he says he is. He described his time in the sky as almost several lifetimes...and that Vanya all but kicked him out to come and take care of their daughter." He added with an adoring sort of smile as he thought of Aoife.

"Get a few drinks in him and he will sing them to you himself." Remi said with a genuine sort of laugh, his pale sea-glass gaze for just a moment appearing careful and open just as it once always had.

Glancing up to where Sam's gaze lingered, Remi saw the book still half-lodged in among the others. Swallowing down a strange sort of feeling he couldn't quite describe, Remi tugged gently at the volume with his magic, letting it float softly to the ground where Sam could easily reach it.

Leaning forward and standing with an athletic ease Remi took a step forward, nearly next to where Sam was sitting now. Placing his fingertips against one of the shelves, pieces of wood began to appear before him, followed by bits of metal and dark wheels. Together it amalgamated and assembled into a rolling ladder that could be moved from shelf to shelf. Looking up, the rungs continued until someone of Sam's height would easily be able to reach the top shelf of books.

"There." Remi said softly, almost sadly, as he looked down at Sam with a faint smile. "No more falling." Though he knew what it would do to him, Remi extended his hand downwards to help the bookmaker stand.

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"Oh. That is good to know then. And I suppose he shall be able to return to her when it is truly his time. But...I wonder why he was able to come back?" And why not anyone else? Why not the people he missed, Cornelius and the nice girl who used to sell ink in the market or any other countless people who had gone to the barrier or Spire? What did Ronin have that let him cheat death? Sam wanted to find it and give it to those he had still with him to make certain they wouldn't leave. But if no one knew...it was a horribly frustrating hole in his knowledge. Remi brought the book down for him and as he always had been before, Sam was amazed by the easy skill. He grinned and touched a hand to his chin, for a moment impressed by the trick and forgetting who was performing it. He took the book and held it to his chest happily, smiling at Remi. But then the other man got up and came close and suddenly he was aware of how he smelt, of charcoal and baking and something Sam couldn't quite place but that he was immediately nostalgic for. He averted his eyes until he caught the beginnings of Remi making the ladder into being, could not look away from the miracle. "I...wow. I...don't know how to thank you for that." He watched Remi's hand for a moment then slipped his into the other mans and pulled himself up, trying not to think of the warmth. Once he was up he looked at their clasped hands, began to open his mouth as if he was about to say something, then turned to the ladder and let go to touch it. "You are...a very good man, Remi. Selfless. I never expected you to speak to me again, never mind make something like this." Samuel At seventeen, I started to starve myself I thought that love was a kind of emptiness And at least I understood then the hunger I felt And I didn't have to call it loneliness

now there's a space too wide

The alchemist shrugged helplessly. "You will have to ask him that yourself." He replied with a lopsided smile.

"You do not have to—" Remi began, a lump forming instantly in his throat as Sam's not-quite-warm hand slipped into his own. The words died on his lips and instead a soft O-shaped puff of air staggered out as his fingers wrapped around Sam's and the muscles of his arm tensed as he pulled the smaller man up. That tension spread, Remi's forearm tightening as he stood slightly straighter, his gaze levelled at the shock of copper hair as Sam stood and rose towards him.

Then, in the moment where Remi was meant to finish his sentence, to say...—thank me, he found himself all together too close to Sam and a strange sort of tunnel vision set in. All he could see were freckles and pale lashes, lips not quite as red as they should have been due to the lack of blood, and the sensation of Sam's hand still in his own. Eyes unknowingly focused on Sam's lips, Remi's mind faraway in a land of confusion and white noise that made it hard to think, he watched as Sam looked down, presumably at their hands, and then—

—Remi's hand was empty, and Sam's were upon the ladder.

"You could have hurt yourself." The alchemist said, taking a half step back and running a hand through his hair as he looked up at the ladder, at the books, at anywhere that was not Sam. One side of Remi's lip winced upwards as the bookmaker said that he'd expected the alchemist to never speak to him again, and Remi's eyes fell slowly to the floor as he exhaled a sort of weary and sad note.

"No, I owe you an apology. You seem to catch me at times where...I am not particularly proud of how I acted towards you." Sam would only remember just the once, but that did not mean that there wasn't more for the alchemist to apologize for.

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"Just because I could have been hurt doesn't make it anyone else's responsibility." Sam pointed out, speaking away from Remi as he tried out the ladder, stepping a couple of rungs up and then turning to sit on it, looking down at the other man. When he had the boost he was an inch or so taller and it was odd to see him from the new angle, was easier to see that he was handsome that Remi was someone just like him who could be just as hurt, just as lost. The apology caught him offguard. From what Sam knew Remi had made some mistakes, yes, but none so monumentally stupid as the one he could not remember making. "I..am sure you only mean words, which if I knew them I am sure I would forgive. I...I read my diaries. I know why I did what I did but Remi..." Sam sighed, looked off to the side, his fingers tensing on the rung of the ladder. "It was selfish and cruel. I..do not like to think of myself in that way. But it was, and...you need never apologise to me. Whatever..you could have done. It would not match up to my...to what I did." This was clearly difficult for Sam to say but seemed rehearsed. It was a shorter, impromptu version of the words he'd been whispering to himself every night since he'd read the diary entry. "...So..um..that you are helping me now. It's...I'm very grateful." Samuel At seventeen, I started to starve myself I thought that love was a kind of emptiness And at least I understood then the hunger I felt And I didn't have to call it loneliness

now there's a space too wide

"Maybe not." The alchemist agreed with a slight but gentle nod. "But I would still not see you be hurt. Not if there was something I could do." Remi replied in a low but gentle and melodically accented tone.

With a soft boyish sort of ease in the way Remi's eyebrows furrowed as he watched Sam climb and then turn to sit, Remi's gaze shifted back and forth from one of Sam's eyes to the other, to his nose, freckled cheeks, lips and—

—as Sam mentioned the diaries, the alchemist looked down and away, his gaze unfocused on one of the shelves of books. The colours of the volumes blurred and swayed as mental images danced and took the place of reality before his eyes. The alchemist very much wanted to bite at his nails or wedge his hands in his pocket or perhaps simply to leave. He could feel the way his emotions subtly tugged at his features, his lips twitching with unsaid words, his eyebrows moving with expressions that accompanied the silent response he was holding back as he stared somewhere around Sam's knees as the bookmaker sat perched on the ladder.

Instead of doing any of those things though, a feather simply appeared in his palm, and dexterously Remi spun it between the fingers that moments ago had been in Sam's, as he nodded.

"You are welcome." He replied finally in a low voice, bereft of any sort of emotion.

Pressing against the corner of one eyebrow and taking a steadying breath, Remi tried on a smile as he looked up. "Well. I interrupted you. I will let you get back to your work."

that's left us with wondering eyes

Coding base by Sky!