acontritemess | I knew publishing that paper would make waves

I knew publishing that paper would make waves

[Professor Corbin Ainsley Fitzmarcus kept a house outside of London. His commute to his office, which was thankfully infrequent as he was not a teaching professor, always began the same way. Leaving the rural countryside was never a problem, but the closer he came to the metropolis in which his office was housed, the more intense the nausea became. Over the years he'd learned to ignore it, but the pressure, just at the edge of his senses, never truly abated. Damn it to the nine levels of Hell if he didn't hate the city.

He parted in his usual space, grabbing his briefcase before heading inside. Not a happy man even when he wasn't perpetually dizzy, he sometimes thought it a pity his colleagues only knew a man perpetually off-kilter with the lack of life thrumming under London's streets. He couldn't find much cause to care, of course. His research assistants were companionable enough, at least when on site, and respectful enough to listen when he told them they were getting too close.

Ah. There was one of them now. A lanky man with a vibrant grin, his sole graduate student this year, fell into step beside him as he made his way up the steps to the faculty building.]

Morning, Professor!

[Corbin looked over to the young man, his expression dour, and simply grunted a response.]

Terrance.

[The young man frowned in sympathy.]

London not treating you well today, Sir?

[Terrance was one of the few people in Corbin's life privy to his secret, which the boy found academically fascinating, of course. Geobiologists.]

There is not a soul in Heaven or on Earth who has ever been treated well by this fair city, lad. I doubt the beast will change its mind anytime soon.

[His grad-student chuckled, shaking his head, but smiled over to his Professor.]

I saw the article was published. Do you think they'll think you mad?

[As they strode to the elevators leading to the upper offices, Corbin raised an eyebrow.]

Do you think I give a damn what they think? Improbable or not, the evidence is undeniable.

[The boy was quick to vehemently nod in agree me. Terrance, always a good lad, craving praise and acceptance.] Oh, certainly, Professor. I was there. I saw the readings. I just-

[Corbin offered the boy a rare smile.]

I solemnly swear your name was never mentioned, by dear boy. Should they drag my name through the mud, yours shall remain unsullied. Mayhap the next Professor saddled with you with be possessing of better temperament, eh?

[The elevator dinged it's arrival.] And half the excitement, Professor.

[A sharp laugh was given to the boy as he entered the elevator.] You can be sure of that.

[Corbin allowed the doors to slide closed and made his way up to his office, nodding a curt greeting to his assistant, and making his way to his desk after shutting the door to his office. He was pleased to see his morning tea was steaming on his desk. He took a seat, nudged his computer to life, and pulled a flask from his desk drawer, brandy to ward off the lingering pangs in his belly, adding a bit to the cup before taking a sip and pouring through the emails waiting for him.

About an hour later his phone buzzed, his assistant's voice coming across.] Professor Fitzmarcus? Forgive me, sir, but you have a visitor.

[Annoyed, he frowned at the phone before setting down his tea cup. He was certain he had no meetings this morning.] Does this visitor have an appointment?

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[Johnathan passes most of his days with ease. The plan that is in place takes time and while Johnathan won't live forever his patron certainly would and he would see it to its end. There were parts that gave John pause though he is careful not to show it around Sunet. The vampire has keen senses and Johnathan isn't a fool. Using his tie with the earth, he hides his reactions to upsetting news, keeping his personal agenda to himself.

Now, however, Johnathan is unable to hide his surprise. The vampire threw the published paper across the table, his gaze expectant but patient.]

D'ye think so?

[The druids voice is thick and measured. His eyes are fixed down at a paper where an unfamiliar name stares back at him. He picks it up, his brow furrowing slightly as he flipped through the pages. At it's end is a picture. The sinking feeling in his stomach flips and a strange thrill reaches out towards his finger tips. He knows that face and so does Sunet.

Fuck.

Sunet remains cool and calm, his dark inhuman eyes watching Johnathan with a keen and unsettling interest. The druid looks up and mets that gaze without flinching away.]

I'll be seein' him.

[The voice that echoes from the old vampire is heartless and cold.]

See that you do. We'll need him.

[Johnathan snorts as he turns away.]

We'll be needen everyone according ta you.

[He avoids cities unless it's completely necessary. The energy here feels choked and uncomfortable, his stomach turns the further he walks from the cities outskirts. There is a flask in his pocket though he chooses to meet the boy sober, pushing away the nauseating feeling in his gut. If he is a druid then he'd be feeling it too, which begs many questions.

Johnathan recognizes his thoughts as he rides the local bus to the university. He'd been trying to determine who the boys mother is and judging him by the apparent age of the man in the picture is unhelpful. If he'd awaken it would have been a very long time ago. Another nauseating feeling joins with the taint of the earth. This is far to personal for John's liking.

His dark eyes case the area as he steps from the bus. A pair of giggling girls stare at him, only to look away when his gaze lands on them. A smirk teases Johnathan's lips as he steps over to them.]

Excuse me, my sweet bonnie lass. [The pair giggle again.] I'm lookin' for the office of one Professor Corbin Ainsley Fitzmarcus. [The name is awkward on his tongue but neither of the two students seem to notice.]

Yes, his building is that one over there. His office is on the sixth floor. [The pair smile at him.] Are you his brother or something?

[Johnathan keeps up his smile before turning towards the indicated building.]

You could say that. Thank ye.

[His steps were easy and he found a directory as soon as he entered the building. The elevator screeched when Johnathan stepped on taking him up to the sixth floor. He'd planned to simply walk up to the door but a woman sitting at the front desk stopped him.]

I'm here ta see Professor Corbin Ainsley Fitzmarcus. [Johnathan replies softly, keeping his annoyance in check.]

One moment please.

[He exhales a slow breath and then listens to the woman behind the counter.]

Professor Fitzmarcus? Forgive me, sir, but you have a visitor.
Does this visitor have an appointment?

[At this cue Johnathan speaks and assumes that his son might be able to hear him over the phone.]

No lad. I don't.

[Corbin's eyes darted toward the phone in annoyance. Who did this man think he was exactly?]

Then Clara would be happy to make you one.

Yes, sir. [Clara looked uncomfortable as the line disconnected.] I'm terribly sorry, sir. Professor Fitzmarcus is always in a foul mood when he's forced to come to the campus. "Prefers his home to stay on the Fens", he says. Would you like to make an appointment?

[Johnathan feels a small smirk tug at his lips. He looks over at Clara, not at all appearing to be insulted by Corbin's short manner. He hadn't thought this would be so easy but people can usually be convinced. Maybe not Corbin but Clara is a different matter.]

Ye, the city doesn't sit well with me either and I prefer not to prolong my stay.

[Cities suck.]

I have some news for our young professor that I don't think he'd be wantin' to miss out on. Perhaps if I leave him a note as well? [He smiles.]

[Clara is a sweetheart, and used to making excuses for her boss. She smiles up at the man, nodding gently.]

I don't see how that would be a bother at all, sir. Shall I make a note of it, or would you care for a pad and pen yourself?

A pad and pen.

[He replies with a charming smile though he has a feeling that Clara might be used to it.]

When does the professor have an open appointment?

[Clara smiles, sliding the requested pad and pen across her desk and turning to her computer.]

Well, Professor Fitzmarcus has no scheduled lectures this semester, and his research takes him away from the office more often than not. He has several callers, now that his article's been published. [She clacks a few keys on her keyboard.]

He can see you next month, toward the end.

[Johnathan begins to scrawl on the paper. It isn't anything in depth or fancy, just a name. A single word that would resonate with his son. He folds up the paper and holds it out to her to take.]

I'm afraid that'd be too late for me.

Pass him this. [There is a spark in Johnathan's gaze.] But don't ye be peeking at it.

I'll stop in tomorrow and see if he be willin' to see me then.

Edited 2016-06-08 15:08 (UTC)

[Clara takes the folded piece of paper and nods, sliding it on top of a paper tray labeled "Professor Fitzmarcus", and looks up to him.]

And who should I tell the Professor this is from?

If ye wish.

[Johanthan grins.]

They call me Johnathan. I'll see you on the morn lass.

[Clara smiles, clearly charmed.]

Have a charmed day, Johnathan.

[A few hours later, Corbin left his office to retrieve his daily mail. Sandwiched between yet another invitation to some dinner or other he promptly tossed in the waste bin and a petition for sponsorship from some student he didn't recall from two years ago, he found the folded note. On the exterior, scrawled in Clara's tight script, was a simple sentence. He identified himself as Johnathan. The name didn't mean anything to him immediately.

Not until he unfolded the note. The one word scratched there sent a chill down his spine. Johnathan. Johnathan Calum Drummond, perhaps? A man who sired him and had nothing else to do with him for over a century? A man his mother had remained devoted to, even after his lack of communication? Could he, in fact, be the same?

He took several calming breaths, added another dob of brandy to his afternoon tea, and with shaking hands, buzzed Clara's desk.]

Clara, did the man who visited earlier say anything else?

[Clara looked over to her desk phone, smiling.]

Nothing, Professor. Only that he would stop by again tomorrow.

I see. [He glances back down at the scrawled note before continuing.] See to it he's seen in.

[Clara hesitated.]

You have a meeting with the department head tomorrow morning, Professor.

[His eyes narrowed.]

Cancel it.

[Johanthan leaves hoping that his bait would take. To much information and the boy might run, to little and he might be disinterested. The thought of his mother worried John so in the spare hours of the night he finds himself a distraction. College bars are always fun and after a few drinks he found himself with a lovely blond, who lived just off campus.

The sun woke him the next morning, groggy and nausea turning in his stomach. He groans softly only then seeing the naked girl wrapped around his center. The curling locks of blond bring forth a painful memory that he quickly pushes away. He slides from her grip and finds his clothes before leaving.

It's only a short walk to campus.

The elevator dings softly, grinding to a halt when Johnathan steps on. It's a little before noon when he reaches Corbin's office. He flashes Clara a grin.]

'ello lass. Be missin me?

[Clara might have spent a bit more time on her hair today, her makeup. If nothing else, this Johnathan was a charming man, and it'd been a while since a man had paid her much attention. Being a scholar's administrative assistant wasn't exactly a glamorous profession. She smiled up from her desk.]

Good morning, Johnathan. You're later than I expected.

[The door to the outer office opened, admitting a lanky young man of about 24 who shut the door behind him respectfully. Terrance smiled at Professor Fitzmarcus' assistant first.]

Morning, Clara. Is the Professor through with his meeting with the Neaderthal yet?

[Clara fixes their unexpected interruption an disapproving glare.] Terrance! Professor Heathgow is a very respected member of this faculty and in the scholarly community! Also, Professor Fitzmarcus has a guest.

[She looks over to Johnathan.] Please, forgive the rude interruption. [She reaches out to touch her phone and activate the intercom.]

[Terrance reaches out a hand toward Johnathan, hoping to smooth things over.] Forgive my rudeness, sir. Terrance Crawford. [The man's appearance doesn't go unnoticed by the young man, and he finds himself confused. Granted, the Professor never talks about himself.]

[Johnathan watches the conversation with a passing interest. When he's addressed by Clara he flashes her a smile, happy to not have been forgotten. He turns towards Terrance when offered his hand.]

Well met Terrance. You can call me Johnathan.

[He doesn't think he'll be seeing much of this boy in the future but for now he'll be nice.]

I be here to see the professor.

[Clara nods, turning to her phone.]

Professor? Johnathan is here for you.

[Corbin's voice comes across the line sounding slightly annoyed.] It took him long enough. Send him in.

Right away, Professor. [She stands.] Right this way, Johnathan. [And she heads toward the door to his office. Terrance takes the queue to take his leave. Clara nods once, then opens the door.

When she opens it, Corbin has stepped around his desk, standing straight to face whomever might be coming in.]

[Johnathan follows Clara feeling his nerves mount. He's unsure what he's going to do or what might happen. The only thing he knows for sure is that Sunet wants this Druid and Johnathan isn't sure he wants that to happen.

Then there are other questions...

When Johnathan steps into the office he pauses. He steps far enough inside for Clara to close the door and leave them to their meeting. Looking at Corbin is enough to confirm Johnathan's suspicions about who is mother was. A sharp pain twisted in his chest as the memories more to the forefront of his thoughts.

It's amazing how much time doesn't heal somethings.

Corbin: he remembers the name and as his eyes land on the man in front of him Johnathan notes that he has his mothers eyes but they hold none of her kindness.]

I should be thankin' you for seein' me.

[Very few things break Johnathan's composure and yet he feels his careful control cracking under an invisible weight.]

[As Clara closes the door carefully behind Johnathan, Corbin shifts his gaze to the man before him, sky blue eyes moving over his form, taking a measure of the man. He can't keep the hatred from his eyes. This man who left his mother and himself to squalor and isolation.]

I suppose you should.

[Johnathan recognizes the emotion that's reflected in Corbin's gaze. It's his curse to have that expression cast towards him; he just never thought he'd see it with those eyes. A small part of him begins to break inside but he carefully pushes that away, keeping his composure.]

When were ye born lad?

[Her name rings softly in his head. He knows exactly when Corbin would have been born and it'd been shortly after Sunet found him.]

[Johnathan's question didn't catch him off guard, but it did rankle his nervous. Who was he to question? His father? As though he'd ever needed him.]

I would wager, about nine months after you last saw my mother.

[He crosses his arms across his chest, angry, but also a comforting gesture. It seems familiar to him, and he shifted his weight to one foot, leaning back against his desk.]

Tell me, why now? Why, after all this time, do you seek me out?

Edited 2016-06-09 12:54 (UTC)

[Johnathan watches Corbin carefully. There is no doubt in his mind who's son this is. A strange feeling stirred within Johnathan's chest: pride, pain, loss, regret. It's the one woman he's never been able to forget, the one who he had done everything to protect and the one who died before he could do anything to help.

He knew it would happen, his life far out stretches hers but he hadn't known that she had been with child or that her child would be born as he was. Johnathan can't imagine growing up as a druid without a guide. As much as his father pushed and hated John; he is thankful for his teachings.

For learning that you can't let yourself be overcome by grief.]

I didn't know she had child.

[His voice is soft.]

I wasnae able to see her afair her death.

I see. Did you simply ignore her telegraphs, then?

[Too much information. He doesn't owe this man anything. If anything, this man owes him.

No. It isn't even anything that specific. Corbin has made a life and a name for himself without help, without support. He doesn't need it now.]

A true pity, that. Why are you here?

[Johnathan's brow furrows.]

No. [He reply his curt and short as if to hide his true feelings on the matter. Johnathan doesn't lie but he does omit truths. He hadn't know she sent a telegraph and, if only for a fleeting moment, he's happy that no one else had gotten a hold of those messages instead.]

You called attention to yourself lad. I hadn't be known if not for your publication. [He pulls a paper from his back pocket and tosses in front of Corbin.] Donnea think you can print this and not be painting a target on your back?

[Sky blue eyes watch the magazine as it lands on his desk, then back to this unwanted visitor, his expression even, not betraying any sort of emotion.]

Ridicule, perhaps, not nearly as much as I was suspecting. I believe too many of them may believe I might actually be on to something.

[He smirks sardonically.]

If you're referring to something other than the bloodthirsty scholarly community, I'd ask you speak more plainly.

[Johnathan swore beneath his breath, looking at his son as if seeing him for the first time. Of course he hadn't known, Johnathan had never been able to tell Constance about the threat or what happened after the last time he disappeared.

They'd been so close.

The memory brought a bitter taste to his mouth and he forces it away. His son might not know it but he needs him. Without Johnathan's help there is a chance he might not survive.]

You think we're the only ones out there lad? There are far more dangerous things among the hidden. [Things Johnathan had tried to protect his love from and knowing he can't protect his son stirs a deep anger inside of him.]

How ominous. [Corbin crosses his arms, continuing to regard Johnathan evenly.] You're starting to sound like one of those old Penny Dreadfuls, you know.

[Johnathan's anger begins to rise though it's directed more at himself and his patron. His teeth clench before he forces himself to relax the tension in his shoulders.]

Which be first, the book or the monster? [He keeps his voice even when he speaks.] Ye should fear what ye donnea know lad.

[Johnathan lets that sink in before continuing.]

There are many things from those stories that be rooted in truth.

Oh, is that why you came? To warn me that monsters are knocking on my door?

[He stands from his desk to his full height.]

[Johnathan is one of the monsters knocking at his door but he chooses not to say that. His posture remains the same though his eyes follow his son as he stands.]

Ken, I be here to meet my son.

[He exhales a slow breath. Johnathan finds it almost impossible to say that he came here to protect his son but he just can't look into those eyes and lie. He can say nothing but he can't bring himself to lie.]

I donnea think you be listen to me anyway lad. The man who sent me be named Sunet and he has a plan to save the earth. [As far as Johnathan knows.] He donnea be concerned with those who stand in his way.

[Corbin raises an eyebrow and spreads his arms wide.]

And so, here I am. [And he tilts his head to the side curiously.]

And why would I stand in his way?

If ye not on his side, ye be in his way.

[Johnathan's tone is very serious, his dark eyes watching Corbin. He wants to explain the danger but there is only so much he can say. He exhales a slow breath to take time to gather his thoughts.

This is far to close to home for him.]

He fights for the plant in his own way. [Except it involves a lot of death, which Johnathan generally doesn't mind. He does mind if Corbin is pulled into his sights.]

[Corbin doesn't respond immediately, mulling over his father's words for a moment. One of the down-sides of her profession is how often he has to deal with people.

Except that he has an understanding of them. Johnathan was on this Sunet's side, but something about this man scared him, or at least put him ill at ease. Son or not, why else come all this way to warn him.]

He sounds like quite the charmer. [Corbin moves around his desk, closes his laptop, and takes his coat from the rack.]

Mark me, I will have more information, but is not the place for it. [He heads to the door, slides it open, and motions toward the opening.]

After you.

[He looks out into the outer office, to Clara.] Clara, see to it the rest of my appointments for the next two days are rescheduled. There's something of an emergency I need to deal with.

[She looks horrified at the prospect of canceling some of those appointments, but she nods.]

Right away, Professor.

Eh, lad.

[Johnthan supposes that it's the best he can do without telling Corbin more. He's already over stepped his capacity though he knows that he alone is currently safe from Sunet; at least for the moment.

He eyes Corbin before stepping from the room.]

Ye be willing to see him?

[The idea makes Johanthan nervous but it's what he'd been sent to do. Sunet will never trust Johnathan's opinion of the boy. When they step out to the main office he flashes Clara an apologetic smile.]

I haven't decided. [He leads them down the hall and to the elevator, where they get to wait for it's rise to the 6th floor.]

I wager you can tell me something of him, and then I'll make a decision.

[He looks over to Johnathan.]

But I've had quite enough of the city. Haven't you?

[Johnathan watches Corbin for a moment and then nods.]

I never care for the city lad.

[The only time he had was because someone had been there waiting for him but that had been a very long time ago.]

We be talkin' where you like.

[Matters such as this Sunet could wait for seclusion, but they had plenty of time to talk on the way.]

I wager you have your own questions. [He spoke as the elevator doors slid open and he started making his way to the promenade.]

[Johnathan follows at Corbin's side, his gaze flicking around them as if they might be followed. There is a sort of tension in his shoulders that's mirrored in Corbin, the curse of being in the city for so long.]

Aye, but ye owe me naethin' sae why shoulds I ask?

[He isn't sure what he wants to know. His imagination is already doing plenty to guess what he's missed. He can't be with Constance so why does it matter? He thought he'd given up a long time ago but it still hurts.

Real love never stops hurting.]

Awful long way to travel to not ask your questions, isn't it?

[He makes his way to the parking lot, and his modest mode of transportation.]

You could have easily sent someone else, but you came. You want to be here, so go on, then. Ask your questions.

[Johnathan can see more and more of Constance in Corbin. He can't exactly open up to the boy but he isn't going to lie to him either. He exhales a slow breath keeping his voice and gaze even. He's had a lot of practice pretending the world doesn't hurt him or slip passed his shield.]

Was she canty? (happy)

[His one regret is not being able to come back for her. Not being able to complete their plans, to have left her in order to protect her. He abandoned her and he'll never forgive or forget it.

Now he learns he'd abandoned is son as well.]

Always. [Corbin nods, and there's a gentleness in his voice that hadn't been present before.] Or, perhaps it's only that she always showed me her happiness, used it to hide her concern.

[Johnathan's expression grew more solemn as they made their way to the car. Constance always balances just at the edge of his thoughts; never remembered but never forgotten.]

That was her way lad.

[He has never forgotten her smile. It's only another reason this plant needs to be saved.]

I'm well aware.

[Corbin actually resists the urge to say something petty like 'I knew her longer than you did'. Instead, he shoves his hands into his pockets as they walk, uncertain what to say.

All his life, which had been a long time, he'd figured, once he met his father, he'd tell him all the things he'd never hand a chance to say. Now that he's here, though...]

[Corbin's silence is met with more silence. Johnathan hasn't dwelled on the idea that he had a son out there somewhere. There was a point in time when he thought about one and Constance even told him what the boys name would be but that dream died with her.

As Johnathan follows Corbin to his car he tries to think of something more to say but once again nothing comes. Shallow talk is easy, any sort of talking that means something is very difficult.]

How? [The word escapes his lips before he can stop it and he bites back the rest of his question. It won't be so hard for Corbin to know that Johnathan was going to ask how Constance died.]

How? [He clenches his jaw. If he were in a similar situation, he knew what how would mean.]

How did she die?

Yeah...

[His voice is low and after a second he quickly continues.]

Ye donnea be havin' to answer that lad.

[It hurts but at this point Johnathan will take whatever the pain is and bear it. It'd been his fault. He'd been stupid then and to think he could protect her.]

[Corbin cuts his eyes at his errant father before looking back forward.]

You couldn't have done anything for her. [And he clenches his jaw.] It was cancer. [And he pauses, not looking at anything in particular, his eyes shining with emotion, though he doesn't turn his gaze toward his father.] I tried to heal her.

[Johnathan's gaze remains forward as well. He doesn't need to look over at Corbin to know the pain he must feel. Cancer? The one thing he hadn't thought of, even if they had run away she still would have been sick but then maybe they'd have had a few years together; as a family.

The thought burns a hole in his chest.]

I'm sorry...

[Druids aren't meant or made to heal people. Their task is to take care of the earth and he knows exactly how Corbin's efforts would have affected her. It must have hurt and Johnathan hadn't been there to stop him.]

You're sorry.

[There was a venomous edge to his voice but he still didn't look to Johnathan, instead keeping his eyes forward.]

You're sorry. Well. I suppose that makes it all better, then.

What would you have me do lad?

[Johnathan turns towards Corbin and glares. He already hates himself as it is and he knows that there is nothing else he could have done. They had plans, Johnathan had been going to meet her and then...

He swallows and turns away, his voice dropping in defeat.]

I wish it'd been another way.

[Anything else he could have said would have just sounded like an excuse. He'd wanted to protect her. He never got the message. He wanted to give her the best chance she'd have and it hadn't been with him. In the end, its probably better that Corbin grew up away from the man pulling Johnathan's strings.]

[Emotions rarely dominated Corbin's mind for long, even one so deeply seated as his feelings over his father. Over a century of isolation had made him cold, calculated, and aloof.

He let out a gentle sigh, looking over to the man finally.]

It doesn't matter. Mother died over a hundred years ago. She has no more pain, she doesn't have to see what the world's become.

[He shakes his head.] It doesn't matter.

[It does matter. Johnathan wants to yell at Corbin, to tell him that every moment she had been alive mattered but he couldn't bring himself too. Like the rain falling his anger faded and melted into sorrow. It's all his fault that it ended like this and who's to say what might have been better?

She doesn't have to see this world or how broken her town boys have become.

They fall into silence as Johnathan regains his composure. She's gone, he knows that and he has to now focus on keeping his son safe. It's what she would have wanted and it's what he's going to do. There is nothing that will keep Corbin from Sunet's glare but if Johnathan can stand between them he will.]

How long to our destination?

[His voice is low, his accent more fluid than it had been before. They need to talk and there is little time.]

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I knew publishing that paper would make waves

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