Nathan and John, Tel Aviv, Sunday
Jun. 22nd, 2008 05:38 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsJohn doesn't know quite what to do with himself at a visitation. Nathan explains a few things. John lets other things slip.
There was a first time for everything. John had never attended a visitation before. He clasped his fingers around his tie and loosened it, feeling all the more uncomfortable in the presence of strangers; grieving strangers. John kept his expression stoic, hoping it resembled something akin to grief. He wanted to blend in with the crowd and hoped he wouldn't be approached by a grieving family member or worse, be asked to view the deceased. He really had no business being here.
"Well, at least you're staying out of the way," came a very low growl from behind and above him. Nathan had just finished talking to the couple of elderly Marines whose phone numbers Isabelle, for some reason, had possessed; they had apparently served with MacInnis prior to his time with Mistra, and had flown out here to pay their respects.
John grimaced a little as he turned around. "How long are we supposed to stick around for?" They'd been here for no less than fifteen minutes and already he was sick and tired of throwing sympathy glances to people. "I mean--" He glanced up at Nathan. "How long do you want to stick around for?" He was going to have to remember to be a little more sympathetic and understanding. He could do that. He could play this part. Juliette had asked him to accompany Nathan for a reason, and John was supposed to look out for him and that was what he was going to do. No problemo. He stopped fiddling with his lighter and slipped it into his jacket pocket.
Nathan eyed him, then looked towards the casket. "Come with me," he said, and headed in that direction, clearly expecting John to follow him.
Oh, shit. John stared at the open casket and quelled the urge to roll his eyes. Alright. Alright, here we go. He stepped forward and begrudgingly followed, walking a pace behind Nathan.
Nathan stared bleakly down at MacInnis's body for a long moment, not looking at John. "This is one of those things you have to do, in life," he said, his voice very low but a definite edge to it. "It's not a pleasant thing, but it could be worse. You acknowledge that someone's died - it means acknowledging that they lived. And that's not a privilege that some people get." The muscles along his jaw clenched again.
John forced himself to look at the body in the casket. "He looks um..." Dead. "At peace." He recognized MacInnis from the photos he'd seen on the internet. On the way to Tel Aviv, he'd googled information about the guy. John figured if he was going to attend the man's funeral, he should at least be acquainted with him.
"Well, my dad, he--" John sucked in a breath. "Died of a stroke when I was eleven." He managed a small smile. "Never did see his body though. We kinda just buried him." He could hardly remember the events of that day. It was years ago. "So how long did you know him for?"
"Twenty-eight years," Nathan said after a moment, giving John a sideways look at the uncharacteristic volunteering of personal information, his gaze softening slightly. "I suppose you'd call him a father figure... of sorts." Who did more for me than my own father did. Even if he did help found Mistra. "He... taught me how to fight. Helped me fight for something that was... really important."
John nodded. "Guess he must have been a cool guy, huh?" If MacInnis was a father figure to Nathan, he wondered if Nathan knew how much of a father figure he was to him. "I uh heard they're going to um... cremate the body?"
"I don't know that I'd call him 'cool'. But I owe him a lot. He stood up for what he believed in," Nathan said quietly, "and wound up helping out most of the people in this room." John would probably hear the whole story later, but right now didn't feel like the right time. "I didn't always approve of his methods. He was a very... hard man, at times, but he did what was right in the end." John's last question penetrated and he shook his head, as if shaking off the bleak reverie. "And yeah. Cremation. It's what we do." The faint smile wasn't particularly amused.
He arched a brow at hearing that and looked over at Nathan. "It's what you do?" John didn't know if he'd ever choose to have his body cremated but since he was quite the pyromaniac, cremation would probably be... fitting.
"Call it reclaiming an old tradition," Nathan said, still keeping his voice low. The room had somewhat emptied, but not entirely. "Cremation can be a way of wiping away the memory that you ever existed. But it can be freeing, too." His voice was gruff, tighter as he went on. "I want to his ashes back to the States and scatter them somewhere appropriate. It's what he wanted, too."
"Hm." Other than Nathan, John simply assumed MacInnis had no family left. Well, if they were going to bring his ashes back with them, John supposed they were going to have to go look at urns next. What a day this was turning out to be. "I'm going to go for a smoke," he murmured. "I'll see you outside." He took one last look at the body before he stepped away, giving Nathan some time and some privacy.
There was a first time for everything. John had never attended a visitation before. He clasped his fingers around his tie and loosened it, feeling all the more uncomfortable in the presence of strangers; grieving strangers. John kept his expression stoic, hoping it resembled something akin to grief. He wanted to blend in with the crowd and hoped he wouldn't be approached by a grieving family member or worse, be asked to view the deceased. He really had no business being here.
"Well, at least you're staying out of the way," came a very low growl from behind and above him. Nathan had just finished talking to the couple of elderly Marines whose phone numbers Isabelle, for some reason, had possessed; they had apparently served with MacInnis prior to his time with Mistra, and had flown out here to pay their respects.
John grimaced a little as he turned around. "How long are we supposed to stick around for?" They'd been here for no less than fifteen minutes and already he was sick and tired of throwing sympathy glances to people. "I mean--" He glanced up at Nathan. "How long do you want to stick around for?" He was going to have to remember to be a little more sympathetic and understanding. He could do that. He could play this part. Juliette had asked him to accompany Nathan for a reason, and John was supposed to look out for him and that was what he was going to do. No problemo. He stopped fiddling with his lighter and slipped it into his jacket pocket.
Nathan eyed him, then looked towards the casket. "Come with me," he said, and headed in that direction, clearly expecting John to follow him.
Oh, shit. John stared at the open casket and quelled the urge to roll his eyes. Alright. Alright, here we go. He stepped forward and begrudgingly followed, walking a pace behind Nathan.
Nathan stared bleakly down at MacInnis's body for a long moment, not looking at John. "This is one of those things you have to do, in life," he said, his voice very low but a definite edge to it. "It's not a pleasant thing, but it could be worse. You acknowledge that someone's died - it means acknowledging that they lived. And that's not a privilege that some people get." The muscles along his jaw clenched again.
John forced himself to look at the body in the casket. "He looks um..." Dead. "At peace." He recognized MacInnis from the photos he'd seen on the internet. On the way to Tel Aviv, he'd googled information about the guy. John figured if he was going to attend the man's funeral, he should at least be acquainted with him.
"Well, my dad, he--" John sucked in a breath. "Died of a stroke when I was eleven." He managed a small smile. "Never did see his body though. We kinda just buried him." He could hardly remember the events of that day. It was years ago. "So how long did you know him for?"
"Twenty-eight years," Nathan said after a moment, giving John a sideways look at the uncharacteristic volunteering of personal information, his gaze softening slightly. "I suppose you'd call him a father figure... of sorts." Who did more for me than my own father did. Even if he did help found Mistra. "He... taught me how to fight. Helped me fight for something that was... really important."
John nodded. "Guess he must have been a cool guy, huh?" If MacInnis was a father figure to Nathan, he wondered if Nathan knew how much of a father figure he was to him. "I uh heard they're going to um... cremate the body?"
"I don't know that I'd call him 'cool'. But I owe him a lot. He stood up for what he believed in," Nathan said quietly, "and wound up helping out most of the people in this room." John would probably hear the whole story later, but right now didn't feel like the right time. "I didn't always approve of his methods. He was a very... hard man, at times, but he did what was right in the end." John's last question penetrated and he shook his head, as if shaking off the bleak reverie. "And yeah. Cremation. It's what we do." The faint smile wasn't particularly amused.
He arched a brow at hearing that and looked over at Nathan. "It's what you do?" John didn't know if he'd ever choose to have his body cremated but since he was quite the pyromaniac, cremation would probably be... fitting.
"Call it reclaiming an old tradition," Nathan said, still keeping his voice low. The room had somewhat emptied, but not entirely. "Cremation can be a way of wiping away the memory that you ever existed. But it can be freeing, too." His voice was gruff, tighter as he went on. "I want to his ashes back to the States and scatter them somewhere appropriate. It's what he wanted, too."
"Hm." Other than Nathan, John simply assumed MacInnis had no family left. Well, if they were going to bring his ashes back with them, John supposed they were going to have to go look at urns next. What a day this was turning out to be. "I'm going to go for a smoke," he murmured. "I'll see you outside." He took one last look at the body before he stepped away, giving Nathan some time and some privacy.
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