Can Anybody Find Their Home? [Dane]

[Moriel Sarid]

It had been too long since anyone else had lived in the lighthouse with Moriel, since one of his great-grandchildren had stayed with him five years earlier. The place was large and empty and it just seemed strange to be the only one there. Sure, he enjoyed the peace and quiet, but he also spent far too much time reminiscing on the days when tiny feet thundered up and down the stairs all day, playing games and making trouble. So when he and Dane Evans ran into one another and Dane mentioned he was looking for somewhere to stay, offering a room at the lighthouse had only seemed natural.

He had heard about what happened to Dane. It had been all over the papers once the soldier returned. What saddened Mori the most was the look on the man's face after he returned. It was a far cry from the cocky, carefree expression he recalled from the boy that once worked in his grocery. Still, it seemed he had grown from the experience in some way. Dane had quit the service, which was a good sign in Mori's book.

"I have nothing but rooms, so if you want to change to another, feel free," Mori told him as they toured through the lighthouse. "I just thought you might like the third floor so you could have some privacy." He stopped on the wide spiral staircase and pointed out Dane's new bedroom door. "Unfortunately, the place is a bit light on bathrooms. They were difficult to add in during renovations. You'll use the one on the second floor, where I stay, but you'll have it all to yourself - I have an en suite."

He ran through his head, trying to remember all the essential bits of information. "Help yourself to anything in the kitchen. If there's something you'd like, just add it to the grocery list. A woman comes by once a week to clean, and she does most of the laundry. Just put dirty clothes down the chute in the hall or you can use the washer in the basement." Mori leaned against the rail and looked over at the man beside him. "Any questions?"

[dane brock evans]

Dane would never be able to thank Mori for what he was doing right now. He thought that letting him stay at the lighthouse with him was the best thing in the world. Why Mori was being so nice... Dane wasn't sure. He wasn't used to it, but he wasn't complaining. There was a lot of things here that he would never have on his own. Such as the person that came in to clean and do laundry. How sweet was that. Dane just nodded when Mori mentioned something about the house. His face serious, there wasn't a sigh of happiness in his features.

"Thanks Mori. I really appreciate all of this. You extending your hospitality for someone you barely know." Dane thanked him, trying to give him a smile but giving up when it wouldn't come. He couldn't remember the last time a true smile was on his face. Before the torture, at least. Probably a good few months before he was even captured. Wars were fun, and there wasn't a lot of time for smiles and jokes. Dane made the best of it at first, but that didn't last and soon he was just like any other soldier. "I don't think I have any questions."

[Moriel Sarid]

"Ah, why should I keep all of this space empty? It seems a waste," he explained. "But you're welcome. I remember my wife Mary saying she liked you back when you worked for us. She was a good judge of character." He returned to the bottom of the stairs and picked up Dane's bags before he could protest, and started carrying them up the stairs toward his room. He stopped a few steps above him and studied the expression on his face. So much pain.

Moriel nodded. "Well, in any case, let me know if you do. I hardly have a busy schedule going." Which reminded him that Dane might not be as much of a hermit as himself (though his new attitude didn't suggest as much). "Oh, if you want to have anyone over, feel free. Just give me head's up if I'll want to keep out of the way." Dane was still a young man, after all (well, young in Mori's eyes), and might have women over to entertain.

As he started back up the stairs, expecting Dane to follow, he mused aloud. "I'm not sure if you would remember, but my son Christopher was four years behind you in school. You would have been fifteen when he went abroad, but he said you were a popular guy." He chuckled.

[dane brock evans]

It didn't surprise Dane that Mori's wife liked him. He was pretty sure there wasn't a person he met that hadn't liked him. He was extroverted and loved to be around people. He loved talking to people and loved being around them. He always struck up conversations with the customers in the store. He just wished he hadn't gone off to the war, but had stayed and worked there instead. It was over and done with though.

He went to protest Mori carrying his bags, but he had already took them. He just took a sigh and rolled his eyes before following him up the stairs. Listening to what he was saying as they walked. He nodded when Mori mentioned his son. Yeah... he remembered him of course. "Yeah. I had met Chris on a few different instances. We weren't friends or anything. But what I knew about Chris, he was a good guy." Dane told him while still following. "I wouldn't say I was popular though. I just... had a lot of friends back then. Doesn't matter much. Some of them are dead. Some of them were fake. The others I don't care enough to look up." Dane muttered with barely any emotion in his voice. It was how he thought, he wasn't going to change his thinking.

"I'll make sure to tell you if I have someone come over, but I'm not sure you really need to worry. You should worry more about me playing loud music." Dane told him with jest in his voice, but not on his face. He could never make his face show it anymore. Even when he tried.

[Moriel Sarid]

Once they reached Dane's room, Mori set his bags down and pushed the door open. The room was fairly plain, painted a very pale green with a queen-size bed on one side. The outer wall curved with the curve of the lighthouse. A few benign nature paintings donned the walls here and there. The windows were wide, heavy white curtains drawn.

"This is it," he announced. "Again, you're free to change rooms if this one doesn't work for you." He moved the bags into the room and walked in to open the curtains, letting in a bright stream of light. "Sorry if it's stuffy. This room hasn't been used in quite some time."

Moriel turned and peered at Dane ponderously, almost as if he were looking right through him. Even the jokes fell flat in his empty, aching tone. He wondered if he was like this all the time now. He hoped not, but suspected so. "I don't mean to pry, so tell me if I'm out of line..." he said, cautious. "I know you went through a lot in the war. It's fairly obvious that it's still weighing on you, Dane. I've...seen my share of violence. If you ever need to talk, please don't hesitate. I've been told I'm very good at listening."

[dane brock evans]

Dane walked in the room and looked around. It didn't seem bad at all. He wasn't picky, he just needed a bed and he would be fine. He didn't care about anything else. He'd find a job, he'd move out and thank Mori profusely for the hospitality, but he didn't want to impose on him. The room was perfect for Dane. He wouldn't want another. "This is fine, but thank you." He muttered as he walked over to the window and looked out of it. The view was amazing. Dane was sure he could stare out of it forever.

When Mori said something about war, Dane snapped around and looked at him. No one understood. No one went through what Dane had to go through. He didn't want to disrespect Mori, however. Dane brought a hand up and traced along the scar on his face. "There's a different..." Dane started as he ran the finger from his hairline to his chin. "between seeing violence, and being in the middle of it. Violence is the battles at war. The bloodshed on the battlefield. Being captured and tortured. Being cut open. That's not violence anymore. It's inhumane." There was anger in Dane's eyes. He was trying not to flash back to that room. Watching the people that were captured with him die one by one. Waiting for the day he was going to be next. He considered himself dead long before rescue finally came.

[Moriel Sarid]

The look on Dane's face was enough to tell Mori that he shouldn't have said anything. He had killed and been attacked, been in battle, but he had never experienced the cruelty that Dane had. He wouldn't have his wings if he had. "I apologize," he said immediately. "I didn't mean to trivialize your experience. I can't imagine what it was like for you." He only hoped this wouldn't make the man close off even more.

"Nevertheless," he continued, expression mild and unreadable but certainly kind, "my offer still stands. If you ever need to talk, you know where to find me. Even if you don't want to talk about the capture in particular, don't be shy." His lips curved into a gentle smile. "Please."

He walked to the window, though he kept his distance from Dane out of respect. The harbor was busy this morning, full of trade ships and merchants. Moriel was sure that more than a few of those ships carried weaponry, to fuel this senseless war. The one that had done such unspeakable things to his new tenant. "It looks so different now," he mused aloud, "than when I first saw it. It used to be wild, you know. Dangerous."

[dane brock evans]

He shook his head quickly when Moriel apologized. No... he didn't want him to. It would only make him feel worse in the end. He didn't need people's sympathy. He didn't want it either. He didn't voice this. It was rude and he still had his manners even though he was different from the war. "Thank you. I do appreciate it. I didn't mean to sound so cold about what I said either." Dane said quickly, pushing back the flashbacks from his mind before they surfaced and caused even more pain.

Dane moved and looked out the window again when Mori did. It was peaceful and it calmed his mind down some. He looked at the ships coming and leaving. He wondered how many ships came in every day. It had to be a lot. It was how they got what they needed for whatever in the town. War included. "Everything changes over time. People. Technology. Style. Nothing ever stays the same." Dane practically whispered. There was double meaning to the words, and he was sure Moriel would be able to realize that, but he didn't care. It was the truth. Everything changed. Even himself.

[Moriel Sarid]

"You were right to correct me," Moriel insisted. "Sometimes my kind think our age makes us all-knowing. It's good to be reminded otherwise." He gave Dane a lopsided smile. "It's been too long since I've had a mortal in this house. I'm glad you agreed to stay here. I forget, on occasion, how humbling another's presence can be."

Mori, properly abashed by his own behaviors, placed a large, warm hand on the man's shoulder. It was a friendly, supportive gesture, not meant to be intrusive. He found it had a steadying effect on others. "It used to scare me how quickly things changed," he admitted. "I still find myself unsettled by it at times. Each wife or lover I've had for the past three hundred years has come into my home with something new, something I had never seen before. Medicines. Electricity. Phonographs. Telephones. Computers. Each time, I react with mistrust. The changes in technology, they brought us from swords to muskets to machine guns to nuclear weapons in just a few hundred years. I fear I have focused too fully on those aspects."

He eyed the tiny figures on the shore below. "Yes, change brings violence. It breeds fear. Still, it also breeds opportunities. Opportunities to prove our own resolve." He squeezed Dane's shoulder lightly.

[dane brock evans]

There had always been something about Moriel that Dane liked. He liked him back when he worked for him all those years ago. He liked everyone though. He just liked people in general, actually. Too bad that wasn't how he was now. He missed the days when he wasn't constantly afraid of everyone around him. Afraid of people attacking. People grabbing him and taking him away again. He didn't want that and he was going to make sure it never happened again.

When Moriel put a hand on Dane's shoulder, he jumped slightly. A force of habit from the physical contact. He wasn't used to contact being good. He was used to abuse and gunfire. Violence and things that came along with war. He muttered sorry and didn't pull away. Moriel wasn't going to hurt him. He knew that. "I would find it hard trying to keep up with the advances of technology in the times. I don't know how you've done it. Everything advances so quickly." Dane muttered, not really knowing what he was blabbing off to the fallen angel before him. "I think it'd be interesting as well. Seeing everything. Seeing the mortals changing while you... essentially, stay the same. Only changing in what you want to change in."

[Moriel Sarid]

Moriel was sadly unsurprised by Dane's reaction. He'd seen it before in soldiers, some his own sons. He'd lost three to this war. "The technology moves quickly, but at the heart of it, people aren't so different. If there's one thing I've learned in my time here, it's that all of these wars are make believe. They're empty excuses for the great war of the spirit. Kindness versus cruelty. Bravery and cowardice. Passion and indifference."

He smiled vaguely at Dane's false assumption. That Moriel was anything like the man he had been five hundred years ago. "There's another thing I've learned: No man is unchanged. No man is the same as he was yesterday. The only question is whether he changes for the better or worse."

His eyes moved from the harbor to the face of the man beside him. He truly hoped he was able to give him some guidance. He seemed in desperate need. "I'll let you get settled in, Dane. Let me know if you need anything." Moriel stepped back and turned toward the door to leave.

[dane brock evans]

Settling in sounded like a good idea to Dane. He didn't want to talk anymore. He wasn't used to talking and socializing. He supposed he would have to get over it because he was living with Moriel and he couldn't and wouldn't be rude enough to never talk to the man. He would be kind and he'd act like nothing was wrong when he was about. Dane could do that. he'd find a way to do that because it was the right thing. He shouldn't worry someone else with his problems.

He nodded to Moriel and looked at his bags. He didn't feel like settling. He just wanted to sleep. "Thanks, Mori. I'll uhm. See you in the morning probably. I think I'm gonna have an early night." Dane told him and watched as he walked out of the room. He took a deep sigh and walked over to his stuff before getting a pair of pajama pants on. He quickly changed and put them on, not bothering to put a shirt on. He crawled into the bed and closed his eyes for some much needed sleep.

~Sleepy skip~

It was dark. That could have been due to the fact that his eyes were half closed. The room was dimly lit. That much he could still tell even from behind his eyelids. He could feel blood dripping down his face. He wasn't sure what injury that was from, but it was recent. They wanted information. They always wanted information. None of them would give it to them. Occasionally they got so mad one of them would kill.

Dane opened his eyes and looked over to one of his partners. The only one left. The others were either killed or died slowly from blood loss. Dane hated not being able to save them. He heard footsteps coming and fear became clear on his face. The other guy started begging. They asked him questions first. When he said there wasn't anything they could tell them, a knife pierced through his heart. They took the same knife back out and went over to Dane. He told them the same thing, but they wouldn't listen. They wouldn't kill him though. They needed some kind of prisoner. Instead they slashed down his face. Dane screamed when the knife cut him and practically started sobbing.

In reality, Dane was screaming and crying in his sleep. He was thrashing about on the bed. Searching for something. Wanting to wake up but not able to wake himself up. He didn't want to relive it anymore. He hated closing his eyes because he always saw the same bloodshed over and over again. His own. His breathing was ragged in his sleep and he couldn't stop screaming and muttering not to kill him.

[Moriel Sarid]

Moriel was a light sleeper, by necessity. He had spent more than a century sleeping at the top of this tower, by the light, waking if it so much as flickered. So it wasn't unusual for him to rouse in the middle of the night. Usually, it was just boats on the harbor or an airplane overhead. He would roll over and fall back to sleep. This time, however, his ears weren't just being oversensitive.

Sitting up out of bed, Mori listened again, frowning. Someone was screaming - Dane. He was on his feet suddenly, grabbing his pajama shirt off the nightstand where he had left it. He buttoned it up on his way out of his bedroom and flew up to the third floor, alighting on the landing just outside of Dane's room, where the screams were coming from. He could make out words now. 'Don't kill me.'

Suddenly, it dawned on him what was probably happening. It made no sense for some nameless intruder to have made it to the third floor without his notice. Moriel sighed and cringed. He pushed the door open softly, and his fears were confirmed. A nightmare. A trauma-induced nightmare.

He sat down lightly on the edge of the bed, careful that his wings weren't getting into Dane's personal space. He might be jumpy when he woke. Mori placed a hand on the man's shoulder and pushed gently. "Dane. Wake up. You're having a nightmare." His voice was slow and calm.



outfit

[dane brock evans]

Dane didn't feel the hand on his shoulder at first. it hadn't woke him up. It was weird considering he was trained to be a light sleeper during the war. He mind didn't care. His mind wanted to torture him even more so than his past had. He jumped when he felt the hand and looked up at Moriel with wide eyes. His fist clenched and it took everything he had to snap out of it before he tried to hurt Mori. He put his face in his hands and wiped away the tears that had fallen in his sleep.

"I'm sorry... I-I didn't mean to wake you." Dane muttered into his hands before pushing away the covers and sitting up. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep now. No way. Maybe now he would get settled into his room or something. He thought about what Mori had said either about needing to talk. He... wanted to. Maybe. He just wasn't sure how to or where to start. He wasn't good with talking since the war. He was an extrovert changed into an introvert. Words didnt' come easy anymore. Especially when it had to do with the war. "I didn't mean to scream... Uhm. I... Nightmare." Dane tried to explain but ended with a sigh. That went well. "I just had a nightmare. About the war."

[Moriel Sarid]

Brow creasing, Moriel watched as Dane drew himself out of whatever terrifying vision he had been trapped in. And he still had the presence of mind to apologize for waking him. "I was already awake," he lied. Dane looked shaken, but not shocked. He seemed practiced at the art of banishing these thoughts. "You've been having these a lot," he said. It wasn't a question. His son Augustus had them after he returned from the war. Every night for almost a year, when he managed to sleep at all. He wanted to ask, obviously, but remembered the hesitation he had found earlier. The defensiveness.

Instead, the angel rose to his feet and nodded toward the door. Mori's face never showed a hint of judgement or great emotion, simply that ever-present analyzing stare, a tightening at the corners of his lips that might have been a sad sort of smile. "Come downstairs. I'll make some coffee."

With that, he walked out of the room, expecting Dane to follow without waiting for him. He placed the coffee pot on the stove and scooped in two cups' worth of water and grounds before lighting the burner beneath it. Gas stoves were a modern amenity he could definitely appreciate. He began stirring the water, not looking up to see if his guest would come downstairs. He would.