[Paul, Angelo] "So what brings you out here by yourself?"

[x-vega.livejournal.com]

Angelo ducks out to the garden for a smoke and finds Paul already in the skulking spot.  They talk about atonement and agree that at least knowing someone else is going through the same thing is something to hang onto. 


Paul flicked open his lighter - a battered, old metal thing that he'd had since he was a teenager - and it made the same, familiar scraping noise as always before the flame leapt up.  He lit a cigarette from a new pack; the ones he'd gotten from Shinobi were long gone.  It was humid and cool and dark was falling fast.  He leaned back on the garden bench and tried to relax, but it wasn't happening.  The smoke spiraled up into the trees above him and he watched it until it faded away.

He was still there when Angelo wandered into view, having had the same idea.  He'd decided his thoughts were running in circles, sitting alone in his room, and praying for guidance wasn't really helping.  So out for a smoke it was, and he'd felt like a change from the porch for once. Seeing the glowing end of Paul's cigarette, he slowed down and called out to him.

"Angelo."  Paul heard the boy's voice a moment after his footsteps.  "Done thinking?"

Angelo shrugged wryly, digging in his pocket for his cigarettes.  "Kinda.  Was goin' round in circles after awhile."

"Nothing like a good nicotine craving to bring you back to the cold, hard facts," Paul noted.  He waited until Angelo had come up with the cigarettes and offered his lighter.  "I'm probably contributing to the delinquency of a minor by offering you a light, aren't I?"

Angelo grinned.  "Probably, but I appreciate it anyway."  He took the lighter with a nod of thanks, used it, and handed it back.  "So what brings you out here by yourself?"

Paul held up the cigarette.  "Hiding my bad habits is a habit all its own.  Want a seat?"  There was plenty of room at the other end of the bench, opposite where Paul was sprawled.

Angelo nodded and dropped casually onto the free space.  "I usually smoke on the porch, but... didn't feel like it tonight.  It's a nice night, no need for the shelter."

"No need for the traffic either, when you've got a head full of deep thoughts," Paul added.  "I'm going to take a wild stab at some form of responsibility here and ask if you're doing okay after the discussion in Ms Braddock's journal.  Are you?"

Angelo froze in the act of lifting the cigarette, then consciously relaxed.  "I... I'm gettin' there.  I think."

"Okay."  Paul slouched further, sliding down so that he could lean his head on the back of the bench, and he closed his eyes.  He was barefoot and dressed very lightly in spite of the slight chill.  "I know it's been rough on you with the garbage about having your journal hacked.  I didn't know if the whole issue of atonement and all had thrown your 'sins' in your face."

Angelo laughed bitterly.  "You know, that's not even the thing I was thinkin' of?  What I did after I manifested was about survival.  It's the least of my worries."

Paul snorted softly, puffing pale smoke into the air.  "That's good, in a way.  It's not something you should be worried about.  The others," here he shrugged, "maybe, maybe not."

Angelo nodded.  "Did some pretty bad things back in LA.  Some of 'em were about survival too, one way or another.  Some weren't, exactly.  One... was, but that don't mean I regret it any less."

"Doing what you have to doesn't mean you don't regret it.  God, I hope it doesn't, or I've been doing things wrong for years," Paul said dryly.  "If I stopped regretting things, I'd start to worry."

Angelo nodded, understanding, and sighed before explaining - sort of.  "Was when I was fourteen.  A real literal kill or die situation.  But the one I had t'kill wasn't makin' me make the choice."

Paul thought about that and pieced something approaching the truth together in his head.  "That's worth regretting, yes," he said after a while.  "And so people talking about not being able to atone hit a nerve."

Another nod, and Angelo paused at some length to draw deep on his cigarette.  "Yeah, it did.  Can't make it up to him, so I gotta find another way... an' they don't seem to think there is one."

"Another way to what?"  Paul said, watching Angelo for a moment before turning his attention upward to watch the strands of smoke flirt with the leaves.  "To make it up to him?  To the world?  To get to a point where you can forgive yourself?"

Angelo hesitated, thinking about it, then admitted quietly, "I don't know.  All of them, I think.  Or some of all of them."  He looked down.  "He's four years dead, I killed him, an' I didn't even go to his funeral.  Any chance I had for the first one is gone."

"First, you can't make it up to the dead, Angelo.  Whatever went before, they're somewhere else now."  Paul gestured vaguely with his cigarette as he spoke.  "All you can do is try and do a little more good once in a while in their name.  Making it up to the world?  I don't think the world cares that much.  Getting to a point where you can forgive yourself, that's personal, and it doesn't mean you quit trying to make up for it.  It just means you stop hating yourself so much for what you've done.  Atonement's an amorphous thing.  As an act by the sinner, it's making amends.  You can do that, anyone can.  The part about being reconciled with God or whatever power you look to is between you and them."

When Angelo looked up, his eyes were suspiciously bright, though he was obviously trying to resist it.  "I don't know what to do", he said helplessly.  "How to make amends.  Hell, I'm even considerin' law enforcement as a job, for all the cosmic joke that would be, 'cause it might be a way."

"Don't let it choose your life for you, Angelo," Paul said, and then laughed.  "Mon Dieu, that's hypocritical of me.  Be conscious, at least, if you do.  You can do a lot of good things, trying to make up for the bad.  But consider this.  You can't undo any of it.  And that goes two ways.  You can't delete the good you've done any more than the evil.  So in that, at least, we're saved from undoing everything good we do manage with our stupidity."

Angelo nodded, looking more resigned now.  "I have done a few good things", he acknowledged, thinking of the night on the flying platform with Amanda.  "It's a start, I guess."

"I think you've done more than you know," Paul said, lighting a second cigarette from the first, then leaning over to put the first out with a twist against the dirt at his feet.  He tucked the butt in his shirt pocket and leaned back.  "Angelo, I wish I had something brilliant and uplifting to say to you to make it all okay.  This kind of thing makes getting through the day hard for me sometimes, for weeks even.  There's nothing I can rail against, no one to blame but me.  I don't know if it helps to know it's not just you.  There's a lot of us walking through the shadow on our own time."

Angelo nodded again, oddly reassured, and took a last drag on his dying cigarette.  "It does help, actually.  To know there's people around who'll understand on the bad days."

"There's a song that I put on repeat some days," Paul confessed quietly.  "It starts: Lord, help me out.  I'd take my life, but I'm in doubt, Just where my soul will lie, Deep in the earth or way up in the sky.  It fits, maybe more often than it should.  There's people around who understand.  Can't fix anything for you, but they do understand.  And it is worth a great deal."  Paul looked over at Angelo.  "Your career plans sound good.  Hang in there."

Angelo smiled slightly, tentatively.  "Always do.  One way or another."

"Smart boy.  I was one for the occasional dramatic gesture in my youth.  Fortunately, they haven't made a razorblade yet that can actually take me on."  Paul's grin was rightfully sheepish and more than a little shy.  "I've outgrown it by default, I just get tougher as I get older.  But I understand the compulsion.  It's a stupid thing to try, and it doesn't fix anything.  Just want to make sure you know that."

Angelo matched the grin ruefully, pulling up his left sleeve to show Paul his arm.  "Not doin' this anymore", he muttered.  "Used to help in the worst times.  But I've stopped."

Paul leaned over to look and nodded.  "Cigarettes.  That's a lot of not liking yourself, that hurts like hell.  I'm glad you quit.  Really hard to save the world when you're changing bandages and pulling down your sleeves all the time," he teased lightly, bumping Angelo with his shoulder before leaning back again. 

Angelo chuckled wryly.  "Yeah, I guess it is.  I got help with the quittin', but more'n that, I don't need it so much anymore."

"Always a good thing."  Paul looked at the cigarette in his hand.  "Backsliding," he commented, taking a drag.  "But just a little."

Angelo raised an eyebrow.  "You'd given them up?"

Paul nodded.  "Many, many years ago.  For various reasons."

"Well, it has been a hell of a summer, for all of us.  Think you c'n be forgiven a slip or two."

Paul grinned at him.  "Well, this is my only campus-friendly slip, so I think I'll allow it.  I'll give it up again later."

Angelo nodded with a smile.  "Sounds more'n fair to me.  Didn't quite manage to give 'em up yet, myself."

"Well, let me know if you decide to try," Paul said. 

Angelo grinned at him, just a touch wryly.  "Will do.  You probably know some good tricks to help, right?"

"I wish."  Paul shook his head.  "I ended up somewhere that didn't have any."  He gave Angelo the same shy, sheepish grin.  "I was kind of sick anyway.  By the time I got over it and figured out there weren't any, it was too late.  I'd quit."

Angelo laughed a little.  "Well, that's one way to go about it.  Least you wouldn't notice the cravings."

Paul nodded.  "I don't plan to do it that way again, but it worked."

Angelo nodded back.  "Well, better be gettin' back to my room before the puppy wakes up an' eats somethin' as revenge for bein' left alone..."

"Yes, I know that one," Paul said, waving Angelo away.  "Get on with you before you have to use the 'dog ate my homework' line."

Angelo laughed at that, getting up and moving back towards the house.  "Thanks for the talk.  I'll see you soon."

"Not a problem.  Take care of yourself, Angelo."  Paul shifted to lie so that he was taking up the whole bench, feet on one armrest and head on the other, staring at the sky.