fandomtownies | The Beach, Saturday Morning

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The Beach, Saturday Morning

The gingerbread buildings had barely registered to Ender that morning; enough to be a footnote in the back of his brain, like most fits of Fandom weirdness, but no more than that. He'd gotten up ridiculously early, before even Ben would stir, and spent some time hanging around the common areas with his laptop.

But now, with the sun risen above the island, he'd ventured outside. He was wearing a thick coat and a thicker hoodie, pulled over a sweater - he wouldn't be cold - and the beach wasn't as cold as it could have been. Even if the wind was cutting.

Ender sank down onto the sand, close to the little bit of cliffside where he'd always hidden his raft away from the elements during the winter. He wrapped his arms around his legs, and pulled them close. He'd made a mistake, and things were threatening to unravel a little more than he'd like; the fact of it clamped around his heart, pressing home some of the truths of the previous week. Restlessness, pain, and an aching lack that was so familiar to him, and yet seldom as obvious. Things he didn't know how to live without.

"Somewhere out there beneath the pale moonlight, someone's thinking of me..." he murmured, feeling stupid and a little foolish. Good work, Ender. You're losing the game, and you don't even know what it is.

A year and a half. Then he'd be gone, and able to assume some control over the trajectory of his life. He'd just have to make sure he didn't gather up any more complications on the way.

[[ but post is open, if anyone wants to jostle emoboy. ]]

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It felt like all Bod had done since Thursday was wander outside. Moving seemed to be the only way to settle his mind. Yesterday, it had been the graveyard and a walk around the island.

Today, it was the beach. He'd kept his head down for the most part but when he realized he wasn't alone, he tried to school his face into something that wasn't sad brooding.

The other boy looked...familiar for some reason. Bod felt a niggling at the back of his mind but couldn't quite remember the reason.

[I might skip out to get breakfast but pinging in anyway!]

There was someone approaching - someone familiar. Ender tilted his head away from the water to get a better look, letting go of his knees and stretching his legs out across the sand. "Morning."

"Good morning to you as well," Bod greeted, clearing his throat after he'd said it. His voice sounded a little rusty to his ears. "Good place to spend a morning."

Even if it was chilly, it was quiet and calm.

"I think you and I might be the only two people on the island who would agree with that sentiment," Ender said, wryly, "But agree with it, I do." He frowned, as he tried to place Bod's face somewhere.

Recent. It had definitely been recent, and swamped in a dreamy state of-- ah.

Bod, unfortunately, was a little slower on the uptake. He knew Ender was familiar but his poor brain had been so battered that the recall just wasn't coming.

"Do we know each other?" he asked, figuring going the direct route would be easiest. "You're familiar to me."

"Last week," Ender said, with a brief smile. "Jareth's ballroom. We were both a little out of it, to put it mildly. I'm Ender; I'm a little bit more in the right mind than I was the last time I met, don't worry."

"Right!" As soon as Ender jogged his memory, everything else came back to him. The dreamy party scene, the way he'd felt happier than ever before, the smiling, the dancing.

Now, it just felt...forced and strange. He knew those feelings were due to the whole thing not being real and the manipulation used to bring them all there.

"I'm Nobody," he said before adding, "or Bod. Nobody's actually my name, though. It's good to actually meet you, Ender. I think we missed introductions last week."

"Andrew's actually my name," Ender volunteered, after a pause. Bod had offered his full one - it was only polite. "And we did. I'm a junior, I work at Fixer-Uppers, and I don't tend to make a habit of dancing with strangers at parties."

His expression tended towards the wry on that one. "Nice to get an introduction from you, Nobody."

"I'm a junior as well, I've no job here on the island, I tend to spend a lot of time in the graveyard and I don't tend to dance with strangers either," he said and almost smiled.

Even if it hadn't been by either of their choices, he couldn't really find the dancing all that bad. It had been almost harmless, at least.

"I honestly don't know what happened that day," he said and rubbed the back of his neck. "It's still very surreal in my head."

[Wow, hitting post comment helps. Sorry about that!]

"Mind control," Ender supplied. "Or serotonin, I don't know-- Jareth had an ability to crawl into your mind and override most negative human emotions." And it sounded so stark, putting it like that, didn't it? "Though I'm still not sure what brought all of you there, at the time. We were being held captive."

"Captive?" Bod asked, raising an eyebrow. "I ended up leaving the island after I'd woken up. It seemed to be..."

Well, it was the thing Kate had wanted him to do and realizing that made a lump form in his throat.

"...the last big event wasn't kind to me. Are you and everyone else all right?"

"We're fine, or as fine as is humanly possible," Ender said, which was only a little bit of a fib. The opposite had been what Ben had wanted him to do, but he didn't get any lumps in his throat about it.

"It sounds like it scared you, if you don't mind me saying."

"I don't mind. It did," he said and nodded, tucking his hands tighter into his coat. "I wanted to stay and help but someone close to me wanted me to go so I'd be safe. I don't know how much help I would have been anyway. I don't have a lot of the skills other students here have."

After a moment of silence, Ender pressed his hand into the sand and pushed himself upright, so that he'd match Nobody's height, or thereabouts. "I think every student here has one skill or another that can be useful," he said, "Even if it's simply the willingness to help. I can't exactly move objects with my mind, either, but I'd like to think I'm doing my best not to be completely redundant."

He smiled a little. "Not that I'm condemning what you did," he said, "It really was a lot safer off-island; I can imagine your someone close would want to safeguard you as much as they could."

"Well, she probably doesn't want that anymore," he said, bitterness tinging his tone slightly. "I don't know, though. I wonder if it was a mistake, leaving. I would have liked to help the few friends I have."

He knew it was self pity as soon as he said and he shook his head, disgusted with himself. His ragged emotions were influencing everything he did.

"How did you and the others escape, if I can ask?"

"The same way we always get out of this kind of thing," Ender said, mildly. "The stubbornness of friends."

He wasn't going to elaborate on that any further. It really didn't matter, in the long run.

"I'm taking it something happened that changed your mind," he said, switching topics. "That's the folly of strong emotions, I think-- if they change, most of the ground underneath our feet gets ripped away."

"We're no longer seeing each other so I suppose that's the ground ripping away underneath us," he said and tried to sound unaffected about it. He even added a shrug.

"It's recent and somewhat volatile," he added. "I suppose I'm still getting used to it along with dealing with the end of classes, the overall strangeness of the island and things like invasions."

"Not surprising," Ender commented. "A week ago, you were ready to run from home to safety because she asked. It's bound to be volatile."

He stuck his hands in his pockets to warm them; he'd only just realised they were getting chilly. "Having a few weeks to just sit around and think probably isn't helping," he added. "Say what you want about invasions and whimsy, but they're a good distraction."

(It was nice to be talking to someone about their problems again, instead of having to focus on his own because someone kept pushing about them, but Ender didn't even mentally form the words, let alone verbally.)

"Yes, you're not wrong about that," he said and laughed again, shaking his head. "I would return home but, for several reasons, it wouldn't be much better than just staying here."

Here, at least, there was bound to be some people still around. He could force himself to be social to try and take his mind off things.

"The new term shouldn't be too far off, though. An influx of new people and all the events that come with it should help."

He hoped.

"It usually helps to throw yourself into work and socializing," Ender agreed, and shot a glance his way. "At least, according to the television shows I've watched," he added, which was a slight attempt at a joke. "But the idea seems sound."

Bod chuckled lightly and glanced out at the ocean for a minute. "Not one to socialize, then?"

"I am, don't get me wrong," Ender said, shaking his head. "But my life doesn't really lend itself to every form of socializing."

He glanced at the ocean, too. "Maybe here's your chance to focus on some discipline or skill you've always wanted to master. Something that could be helpful."

"Maybe." He did know that he'd have a large chunk of free time that he'd usually filled up with Kate now. He just didn't know what sort of skill he could try.

"I suppose I can't spend all my time reading," he added even if it sounded like the easiest thing to do. I'll read something that might make me want to take up knitting."

It was a weak attempt at a joke but it was something.

"Knitting," Ender repeated, but he wasn't taking it as a joke -- on purpose, because he knew Nobody meant it that way. "Complex engineering... mathematics, acting... we've got a lot of free time at this school. More than most. There's a lot you can learn, given enough of a reason to." A beat. "And quite a lot of it comes from books, just in case you were worried. If nothing else, it might help you feel less useless come the next invasion, too."

"Acting is one thing I probably won't try because I think it's ingrained in my genes not to be good at that sort of thing. I've had a hard enough time being myself so being someone else would be extraordinarily difficult."

He much preferred his own skin rather than pretending to be in someone else's.

"What sorts of things do you spend your time on? You seem to have a lot of knowledge about this sort of thing."

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