Ravindra Savarna (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
healspec) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
savetheearth2013-07-14 02:34 am
healspec) wrote in savetheearth2013-07-14 02:34 am
Entry tags:
[Alex/Ravi] - it's not real
Who: Ravi & Alex
What: A patient who looks identical to Alex's past-life wife ends up dying in the ER. Also the muns are weirdos who like to do that 'log it offsite and post completed log' thing 8|b
When: July 9th, Tuesday
Where: LCUH ER -> Ravi's apartment
Warnings for (non-graphic) references to vehicular trauma, war/combat, dead bodies, death in general
Normal fare was Alexander and Ravindra driving their own vehicles to work, even when they shared the same shift. One never knew when the other would be held back, and both understood the basal desire to get home as soon as possible.
This morning was different. Instead of heading home after clocking out, Alex searched the ER for a patient he had brought in several hours ago. There was a nervous energy about him pushing the edges, barely contained. Car accident, speeding, lanes closed off, the usual fare -- until he and his partner were back in the rig with one of the injured, running a code three, and Alex had finally got a good look at her face.
Catherine's face.
He'd frozen up for what felt like minutes, but was only a second or two. Years of experience took over; he'd resumed work to stabilize her until they reached the hospital, where he signed her off to the nurses. Once the task was out of his hands, he was free to fret and worry about the woman who looked exactly like the woman he was married to in his 'memory'.
It was a very unpleasant freedom.
He'd switched positions with his partner, taking the driver's seat instead. His change in demeanor wasn't lost on her. He'd brushed her inquiry off, claiming an uncanny resemblance to a family member. She hadn't pressed after that.
The next corner he turned granted him Ravi. Alex hurried towards him, the only nurse who wasn't busy, and asked him, in a hushed voice, "Adult female, trauma, head-on collision with a speeding car, opposite lane. Where?"
Ravindra hadn't given the patient much thought beyond what was required for her care. He'd seen the same thing countless times before: unconscious, critical condition, an anxious husband who'd been contacted as soon as possible and sat fretting nearby. Nothing made it stand out from any other vehicular trauma case.
He was in the room when she went into cardiac arrest. He was the one who'd called the code. He was performing the chest compressions when it became clear that she was not going to respond to resuscitation. He did it all on autopilot, so ingrained in his mind that he didn't even stop to think about it.
After the doctor pronounced her dead, after all the wires and tubes were removed, for just a moment--in between disconnecting her from the machines and pulling the sheet over her head--he saw her battered, lifeless body without any of the familiar trappings of critical care.
That was when it happened. The strange hollow feeling and the distant sound of a heartbeat, followed by the very stark memory of three women lying dead under the rubble of a building. A completely unfamiliar South-Asian woman that he understood to be his sister, a young child that he knew to be his best friend's daughter, and the woman who'd died obviously trying to shield the child with her body, this woman, the same face lying under the sheet in front of him, his best friend's wife.
The memory came with a wave of emotion, a mixed pool of grief, despair, hopelessness, and regret. He didn't feel it, but he remembered feeling it, and that was enough to give him a familiar knot of anxiety, like a lead chain tangled up in his guts.
Ravi was not typically one to react strongly when a patient died. Usually, he brushed it off more easily than most of the staff, or at least he seemed to. This time, he'd asked to be excused, went outside to have a cigarette where no one would bother him, and took a ten minute break to collect himself.
After that, he'd forced himself to put it out of mind and gone back to his work. He put himself on autopilot again. It wasn't until Alex ran up to him in the hallway, a couple hours later, that he finally re-engaged fully. Ravi stared at him briefly, his brain catching up to the question before he could answer it.
"...Dead," he said finally. He paused, then added, "A couple hours ago. Coded."
His breath caught. His expression twisted in grief, the hurt so heartbreaking and personal he didn't stop to question how bizarre it was to feel it for someone he had just met. Along with it came the familiar sensation of an Echo, but it wasn't met with the same sense of confusion or curiosity as previous ones. Alex actively fought against it, regardless of futility. Now, more than ever, did it feel like an intruder, unwanted, unwarranted, unwelcome.
He released the breath, closing his eyes as the heat of tears gathered behind them. Whatever the effect of the Echo, it was delayed, but Alex couldn't bring himself to feel grateful. He drew his hand over his eyes, turning a half-step away from Ravi, and took a deep breath to try and compose himself. He was trying, like many do, to keep from crying by biting down on his lower lip.
It wasn't working.
He was not expecting that reaction. Confusion warred with concern. The concern won. He moved beside Alex and reached out, hesitant, to set a hand on his shoulder blade in an attempt to comfort him.
His best friend's wife, he realized. And Alex had spoken before about his memories of a wife he'd never had. He didn't know who the best friend from the memory was supposed to be, but it was easy to assume it was Alex. And from there, easy to assume that the patient looked like the same wife Alex was remembering.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice soft. He had no idea what else to do.
He shook his head, rubbing the tears from his cheeks. More threatened to replace them, so he turned his chin up towards the bright, white lights in the ceiling and took another deep breath to steady himself.
"Morgue?" he asked, voice thick. He wanted to see her again. If she'd passed a couple hours ago, then her bed would have been freed up for the next case as soon as possible.
He nodded, then added a verbal grunt in confirmation, since Alex wasn't looking to see the nod.
Catherine was in the morgue.
Alex stepped away from Ravi's hand and started down the hall.
His hand hovered in the air a few seconds before he lowered it.
It didn't take long for him to realize where Alex was going.
He jogged a few steps to catch up and set a hand on Alex's arm to stop him. "They're not going to let you in there."
He threw Ravi a look just shy of frustration over his shoulder. When he realized that Ravi was right, he grit his teeth and looked away, covering part of his face in his hand again. Of course he wouldn't be permitted to enter. Security wouldn't believe him. If he were in their shoes, he wouldn't believe himself, either.
His hand dropped back to his side. "She's my wife," he said quietly. The blatant falsity of that statement only seemed to upset him more. "I mean- I remember her as my wife. I know it doesn't make sense, but--"
He cut himself off, abruptly turning away with a soft curse. A nurse pushing an empty gurney urged him to stand off to the side.
Ravi offered his coworker a politely sheepish apology and pulled Alex off to the side to get them both out of the path of traffic. As soon as she was past them, he returned his attention to Alex, his expression shifting instantly to solemn. "It's not real, Alex," he said, and though he knew the words would probably sting, his tone was gentle.
But the memory sparked by her death seemed as real to Ravi as any other. It was only the knowledge that it had never actually happened that kept him from believing it. The feelings associated with it were distant now that he'd had the chance to process them, but the overwhelming sense of grief and despair that he remembered feeling still echoed inside of him when he thought of that body down in the morgue.
He checked his watch. The look on his face was a familiar one; it meant he was about to reluctantly capitulate to something he knew was a bad idea. "Alicia is running late." The morning-shift RN who was coming on to relieve him. "After she comes, I can try to get you in there."
Whether or not security would buy the excuse, who knew. But Alex certainly had a better chance with an RN escort than he did alone.
Perhaps it wasn't real, but the love he'd had in that one 'memory' felt real enough.
He wasn't looking at Ravi when he scrounged up the idea. When he spoke, Alex refocused his attention onto him. He considered the offer with a grim sort of hope. (Who hopes to see a loved one's body? But better her body than nothing.)
Closing his eyes, he swallowed, then nodded. "I'll wait in the break room."
It was on his way there that Alex started to doubt. He'd already been questioned about his unusual response by his rig partner. Ordinary EMS procedure did not include seeing the patient after they'd died. For a paramedic, his role in their survival ended as soon as he signed them off to the ER staff. All he had was a flimsy lie about a resemblance to a family member.
Hardly any weight.
Alicia joined him in the room, bidding him good morning. He automatically returned it with a greeting and smile of his own. "Something happen?" she asked, noticing his red, puffy eyes.
With a light shrug, he said, "Something hit a little close to home."
Her lips parted in a sympathetic "ah."
She spared a hand on his arm, a brief touch of sympathy, before leaving the room. That meant Ravi would be in soon.
There wasn't much to finish up. Once Alicia clocked in and Ravi gave her his shift-change report, he was free to clock out and go. He met Alex in the break room, resigned to this morgue visit that he was fairly certain would not pan out.
"Ready?" he asked, standing in the doorway.
Pushing off the counter, he met Ravi at the doorway, placed his arm around his shoulder, and led him out -- in the direction of the exit, not the morgue. "Let's not."
As much as he wanted to see Catherine, Alex didn't want to risk bringing any unnecessary attention on either of them. He had wished Ravi were a part of the mystery for months. Now that he was, he had to consider his safety, too. He was probably toeing the edge of paranoia, but better to be safe than sorry.
"Ah--alright." His confusion was pretty mild, and faded quickly. If Alex had changed his mind, he wasn't going to argue. It had been a bad idea in the first place. He was relieved that he wouldn't need to embarrass himself trying to manufacture a reasonable excuse to convince security.
He waited until they were out the doors to ask, "Do you want me to drive you home?"
Though his paranoia was legitimate in his eyes, it was still a struggle to knowingly leave her behind. He kept his arm around Ravi for his own sake.
"No. I'll be fine."
And that would be a hassle besides.
"Are you sure?" Ravi would rather have the hassle than have Alex driving unsafely because he was too upset to focus.
He stopped, relaxing his hold on Ravi enough for his arm to fall away when Ravi continued walking. "You think I'm going to be the next accident?" he asked, trying to sound humorous. It fell flat.
Ravi paused and looked back when Alex's hand fell away. He didn't even acknowledge the attempt at humour in the words. "I want to be sure you won't be."
He sighed, resigned, his shoulders slumping with the action. "All right."
He offered Alex a reassuring smile, though it was a little weak, and set a hand on his shoulder. He let it fall away once they were walking again, headed for the employee lot.
His car was a metallic grey corvette, coupe, non-convertible, with a monthly payment higher than his rent. It was definitely not the sort of car people expected when they thought of him. But he'd chosen it because he liked it, and that was the only opinion that mattered. The car was kind of a symbol of his own quest for self-confidence. He liked it enough that he could feel good about it even in the face of criticism (and boy had it ever gotten criticism Alex), which reminded him that the other criticisms he met in his life were the same--opinions that didn't matter because they weren't his.
Basically, if you tried to psychoanalyze him by his car, you'd be right to try but the obvious conclusion--that he was trying to impress others--would be dead wrong.
He didn't say anything else until they were out of the employee parking lot and on the streets. Then, he glanced to Alex out of the corner of his eye, past the edge of the sunglasses he wore while driving, and said, "I had a memory of her, too."
Jokingly, ok.
He'd been settling into a numb state of being, dense and full of white noise, when Ravi spoke. The admittance jarred him out of it. He turned his head to look directly at Ravi, brows furrowed. Still under the assumption that he and Ravi shared memories from the same past, Alex wasn't surprised to hear it.
He waited silently for Ravi to expand.
The lack of verbal reply didn't bother him. He knew it was an expectant silence.
"After she died, I remembered seeing it before." He paused, considering what else of the memory to mention, and opted to leave out the part about the child. "It was in the wreckage of a building. There was another woman, too--I think my sister? But I don't have a sister." Just like Alex didn't have a wife.
His gaze fell to the dash between them, chest constricting at the thought. Two memories of seeing Catherine die-- one real, one questionable. He looked at Ravi again.
"Do you believe in reincarnation?"
"Of course," he answered, immediately and with absolute certainty. He'd been raised Hindu and he still maintained most of those beliefs, even if he was largely non-practicing. That included accepting karma and reincarnation as universal axioms.
He was fidgeting with the ring on his finger, unconscious of the action. "Then the memories-- the visions that feel like memories-- what if they are from a past life?"
The suggestion gave him pause. He went silent for a moment, looking out at the road and the streetlights ahead of him.
While he took reincarnation as a given, Ravindra very rarely considered what his past lives might have been like. It usually came up only as a passing reference, a comment that something he'd done in a past life must have affected his karma in this one. But the idea of past life memories emerging in a person's current life was not new--even setting aside the dubious viability of so-called 'past life regressions.' He'd heard some say that instinct was a sort of past-life memory. Beyond the conscious, and even subconscious, was the unconscious, and whatever the ineffable Self carried over resided therein.
Perhaps it was possible that these memories were coming from recollections of a past life. In that case, it made sense for something similar to unlock the memory and cause it to resurface. Chiding Alex for sleeping on the couch and the memory of chiding him for sleeping on the floor in an entirely different house. Seeing a woman who looked like someone he'd known and remembering her in a similar state.
Ah, but what about the pendant? That memory didn't fit in the same way. After watching the recording of the old man's speech, he'd received a memory of what had seemed to be a church and an old priest with a pendant. There was nothing in the recording that seemed reminiscent of that. And there were other holes too, like where had the numbers and network come from? Why did the people in his memories seem to resemble people he either already knew or would recognize later?
He hadn't quite given up on the schizophrenia explanation. It was just shifting more toward a shared experience of schizophrenia. The woman who looked like Catherine, he must have seen her before at some point and never consciously registered it, and then his brain had cooked up a delusion about her when he saw her again. That seemed somehow more plausible to him than the sheer amount of coincidence involved in reincarnating with the exact same appearance, while the people from his memories also did, in the exact same lifetimes and time frames.
Finally, he answered. "Your past life as a vampire?" The skeptical tone made it clear he was pointing out a flaw in the idea.
There was a rising anxiousness in his gut as he waited for Ravindra's response, as if somehow his answer would put everything into perspective. He realized the expectation had been unrealistic when he received a skeptical question as an answer.
Alex didn't bother hiding the heavy exhale through his nose. He leaned against the door, hair smothered between the window and his skull. For the moment, his hands had ceased their fidgeting and rested still in his lap. "Forget it," he said, yielding. He wasn't in the mood to argue a point he wasn't even sure of himself.
That made him feel guilty. He wasn't trying to shoot down the idea, he just...still didn't quite believe any of this was real. He approached it all with a sort of detachment, taking it in and processing it but holding it at a distance until the truth behind everything became clear.
It was a defense mechanism. The same sort of detachment he'd needed to weather Baghdad.
But if he didn't know what the truth was, there was no harm in encouraging Alex's theories for now. "Sorry," he said, throwing a quick glance at him before turning back to the road. "It's as good a theory as any. I'm only not sure what to believe."
To that, he had nothing worth saying. The only reason he had brought up the possibility of reincarnation in this context was to try and prove that his feelings for the woman who had died were rooted in some sort of truth. There had been an unexplainable hurt when Ravi had claimed otherwise.
As the buildings and pedestrians whizzed by, Alex began to fall into the detached, numb state Ravi had jarred him out of earlier. That's when the effect of the Echo finally started to slither in-- or rather, out-- of his subconscious and into the forefront of his mind. Though Ravindra was preoccupied with driving, he saw Ravindra standing in front of him, and though it was morning outside, it was evening then, as it had been in all of his other 'memories'.
Relief, dread, shock. Dead. Ten years ago. Pneumonia.
Bending over in his seat, Alex smothered his palm against his face. "Fuck."
A sudden surge of frustration had him slamming the bottom of his fist against the window. "Fuck!"
Nothing made sense! Catherine, dead again! Three times. Three different lives, three different deaths. Perhaps they weren't three different lives-- perhaps there was another explanation-- but that was hardly the point. She kept dying.
He jumped at the sudden outburst, flashing Alex a wary glance. It almost made him miss the sudden change of the light to a yellow, right at the edge of his safe stopping distance. He hit the brake hard, lacking the distance for a smooth stop, and the car jolted to an abrupt halt at the intersection line, hard enough to trigger the seat-belt auto-lock.
The irony of a near-miss traffic mishap after he'd offered to drive because it was safer was not lost on him. He pointedly ignored it.
"Holy shit." That was half for Alex, half for the adrenaline spike from the stop. He turned to his friend, somewhere between shocked and concerned. "What is it?"
Well, that was one way to snap him out of his anger. The seatbelt dug into his chest, preventing him from lurching forward. After a few seconds, when it became obvious the car wasn't going anywhere, Alex tried to force himself to relax. He was mildly successful.
"I asked you where she was," he muttered, an undercurrent of bitterness in his voice. "She died ten years after me."
Ravi continued to stare for a moment, not quite understanding the implications of that. "Ah...?"
He thrust his hands out in another burst of frustration, like he wanted to throttle someone, but couldn't. "Another memory! They don't happen right away for me-- I don't know why-- it doesn't matter. She's dead."
He dropped his hands onto the seat, just shy of slamming them down, then leaned forward again, propping his elbows on his thighs and his face in his hands. It wasn't the safest position, but safety in the car was not currently Alex's top priority, as demonstrated moments ago. His volatility appeared to evaporate, allowing resignation to take its place.
That didn't actually explain much, and Ravi found the 'it doesn't matter' frustrating because he did want to understand what Alex meant.
The light turned green. He let Alex stew in silence for a bit while he tried to parse what had just happened for meaning. The wording hit him as he pulled into the apartment's parking lot, but he waited until they were parked and the engine dead before saying anything. "How did you ask me if she died ten years before you did...?"
The vampire thing? Or a mistake in whatever narrative these memories were forming?
Alex was too distracted to feel, let alone express, thanks for the space Ravi gave him.
"I died first," was his automatic answer, out of his mouth as matter-of-factly as saying his own name. Only afterward did he realize the ease in which it had left his mouth was rather peculiar. The memory was fresh enough that he had adopted the Alex of then's acceptance of the fact.
Ravi cocked his head, arching an eyebrow, wordlessly attempting to direct Alex's attention to the logical inconsistency.
He returned the look with pinched brows and a frown. "What?"
Really, Alex?
"If you were dead, how did you ask me?"
He leveled what was just barely a glare at him. "Good question."
By his tone, it was obvious Alex didn't think that was a 'good' question at all.
He finished unbuckling the seatbelt and unlocked the door.
"It is a good question!" he shot back, indignant.
He hit the door lock button. Purely out of spite.
A fact Alex realized after he tried to open the door and failed. He made an irritated noise and unlocked the door again, throwing it open before Ravi had a chance to spite him again.
Motherfucker.
Ravi snapped off his sunglasses, tossing them into the cupholder where he usually left them. He missed, they bounced onto the seat Alex had just vacated. He noticed, but didn't care. He was already tearing the keys out of the ignition and climbing out of the car.
"You don't think that matters?" he shouted after Alex, shutting--not slamming--the car door behind him.
Without stopping, Alex turned around and shrugged dramatically at him. "That's what vampires do," he called back, somehow managing to make it sound accusatory. "Rise from the dead."
"You're not a fucking vampire!" he snapped back.
"No shit! Vampires don't exist!"
(Shut up, Ravi! Don't yell that kind of shit!)
"Then why is that your answer?!"
He splayed his fingers and slowly clenched them into fists. Debating the validity of whether or not he was a vampire was not something Alex wanted to do in a parking lot. Ignoring Ravi, he threw one look at the elevator and took the stairs instead, hoping to burn some of his aggravation out on the ascent.
Ravi glared after him, not at all pleased with that end to the conversation. He huffed out a growl and went to take the elevator, perfectly happy to avoid Alex in the stairwell.
A twelve-hour ER shift would wear anybody out. Combined with the strange elements of the lookalike patient and unfamiliar memories, it left him much more irritated than the situation actually called for. What did it matter to Ravi if Alex wanted to believe he was experiencing past life memories of a time when he'd been a vampire? Right now it only mattered because Ravi didn't want Alex to believe it, because he didn't believe it. Once he got some rest and re-evaluated the situation, he'd realize he was being unreasonable, but for now...
For now, when managed to get to the apartment before Alex by some twist of luck, he was feeling vindictive enough to slam the door on him.
And then lock it.
Start a fight with him over a perfectly reasonable question, will you!
Alas, the walk hadn't calmed him. He mentally criticized Ravi for shouting in the parking lot, considering that not only careless but two steps backwards on his attempt to avoid unwanted attention by turning down Ravi's offer to attempt entering the morgue. Alex was blowing their spat out of proportion, but he was too stressed and worn out from the past twelve hours to check himself before he wrecked himself.
He wasn't happy to see Ravi entering the apartment before him, but whatever. He continued walking, not at all expecting the door to be slammed on him.
Naturally, this didn't improve his mood. "Fucker," he muttered, going for the doorknob.
Locked.
Alex stared incredulously at it. Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and kicked the door.
Only after that did he fumble for his keys, unlock the door and enter the room. "Nice, jackass," he called, slamming the door shut and angrily locking it up. "Real fucking mature there."
He'd stopped to take his shoes off by the door, so he was only a few steps across the living room when Alex entered. He spun to face Alex, coming to a stop. "Ah, yes, because snapping at me for asking a question was very mature."
He slipped out of his shoes. "How about you fucking trust me about what I say I've seen so far? If it turns out I'm wrong, you can gloat about it later."
"You think I don't trust you?" There was a note of offense to it, but his tone mostly made it sound like the idea was patently absurd. "No, Alex, I trust that you believe what you tell me. I'm only skeptical that it's what actually is true."
"Oh, so now you're cherry-picking what you'll accept as truth? Get Olivia or Adhi."
He gave Alex an incredulous look, because that was not what he'd meant and what did the cats have to do with anything? "No, Alex, I don't believe any of it is true."
He made no move to find either cat, but Adhirat was busy grooming himself on the cat tower in the corner of the living room if Alex wanted to make use of him.
Figured Adhirat wouldn't bolt when he heard the door slammed and kicked. Aloof fucker.
Alex crossed the living room to get to Adhi, placing a hand on the cat's back to prevent him from escaping. Adhi stared at the offending hand like he couldn't believe Alex had the audacity to interrupt his grooming time, then slowly turned his dirty look onto him.
Which was perfect since Alex needed that eye contact. Once the trance was established, he stepped away from the cat tower and folded his arms across his chest.
Under his order, Adhi sat back on his haunches like a prairie dog. Alex stuck his tongue between his teeth. So did Adhi. He briefly unfolded his arms to put his fingers by his eyes and force them wide open. Adhi's eyes went wide as saucers.
He looked dumb as all hell.
Alex folded his arms again, satisfied. Cocky motherfucker.
When Alex finished being a smug motherfucker, he'd turn around to find the living room empty.
Ravi did not care about whatever he was trying to prove. As soon as Alex's attention was off of him, he'd walked away, retreating to his room.
Oh, the indignation.
"Vin!" he snapped loudly, stepping into the hallway. "Get back here!"
Adhirat remained in the same position, staring into space.
Nope. The bedroom door clicked shut behind him. He was done with this.
With a frustrated noise, Alex turned around, snatched Adhirat off of the cat tower and threw the bedroom door open.
"Watch," he growled, releasing the cat.
... Except he didn't tell him to land, so Adhirat's fall was most undignified.
Alex winced. "Shit, sorry."
Ravi was digging through his dresser for a set of nightclothes when Alex barged in. He snapped to face the door when he heard it open, indignant that Alex would go so far as invading his private space to continue the fight.
Olivia, curled up in his desk chair, raised her head to watch.
Before Ravi could say anything, Alex dropped the cat. Any point he was trying to make was completely ruined by the fact that that was awful why would you do that! Ravi looked horrified. He rushed over to scoop Adhi up from the floor, a limp bundle of fur and limbs, and cradled him to his chest. "Oh, Adhi, I'm sorry, baby," he murmured, his cheek against the cat's head as he stroked his fur, trying to comfort him. "It's okay, shh, you're okay."
Olivia's ear flicked when Adhi hit the ground. She tensed, ears angled slightly back, like she was waiting for a cue to run.
Alex felt bad for dropping the cat, but his guilt evaporated in exasperation at Ravi's handling of him.
"Adhi, bite his nose. Gently," he added hastily, right before the cat's teeth made contact with the tip of Ravi's nose.
Ravi's head snapped up just before Adhi followed through with the orders, which put his nose safely out of the cat's reach. Any ensuing fussing he assumed was just Adhi's usual dislike for being held. He set the cat down on the floor (gently) and shoved Alex toward the door. "Get out!" he demanded, as though offended that he was still there.
"For fuck's sake!" Alex put his hand in the door frame, refusing to move any further. "What do I have to do, tell him to piss on you?"
That did not make Ravi any less intent on getting him out. He grabbed the edge of the door and pulled it toward himself, not closing it yet but making it clear he intended to. "Stop fighting with me, you stupid asshole! I don't care about whatever you're trying to prove!"
And if Alex didn't move that hand, he was getting the door slammed on it. Or at least, a threatening fake-out to warn him that Ravi would do it
After another unintelligible noise of frustration, he threw up his hands in defeat and turned away. "Fuck it! Think whatever you wanna think."
He went into the bathroom for the customary shower he always took after a shift and slammed the door behind him.
He didn't grace it with a reply. He slammed his door as soon as Alex vacated the doorway and turned back to his dresser. Olivia had since scurried under the bed in the commotion, but Adhi sat where Ravi had left him, still under the effects of Alex's trance.
Ravi had gathered that Alex was trying to prove that he could somehow control the cats, because that was the only way his comments made any sense. But even if he could control the cats, what did that prove? It certainly didn't prove he was turning into a vampire, or that they were experiencing past life flashbacks, or that he was getting flashbacks of his past life as a vampire. All it proved was that he'd somehow gained the ability to control cats.
In Ravi's book, that meant absolutely fuck-all in terms of whether or not any of this was believable.
Olivia came out from under the bed to cautiously approach Adhi. He roused from the trance to see her in his face, hissed at her, and jumped onto the bed to groom his fur back into its proper place. Ravi threw him an admonishing glare.
Then he heard the shower start running and quickly turned that glare on the wall across the room. That motherfucker! Couldn't win the argument so he stole the shower! Ravi had been planning to drive him back in the evening to pick up his truck, but fuck that, Alex was taking the bus now.
Unlike how the time spent walking up the stairs to their apartment had only fueled his irritation, Alex's anger and frustration with Ravi crumbled under the relentless spray of hot water. Without either buffer, he was forced to face the vague despair of losing Catherine again. He slumped against the shower wall and zoned, too exhausted on all counts to feel anything more acute than melancholy.
A bang on the door told him he'd taken too long. He finished cleaning up with prune-like hands and exited the bathroom with a veil of steam and a muttered apology. Gomez was already inside, eating alongside the other two cats; Alex left his door ajar in case he wanted to come in later. Following routine, he slipped into a pair of boxers without much thought and went to bed. His sleep was deep and blessedly dreamless, but when he woke and realized this, another layer of guilt washed over him. Shouldn't he have tossed and turned, had trouble with unpleasant dreams? Catherine was dead.
He washed up and got dressed with the same mechanical somberness, and entered the kitchen only for a glass of water. Unsurprisingly, he hadn't much of an appetite.
Ravindra was in there, fixing himself something to eat. Alex waited for an opportunity to speak before saying, "Sorry. About earlier."
Conversely, Ravi stewed. He just wanted to sleep, and he couldn't until Alex got out of the shower so he could get in, and Alex was taking for fucking ever in there, and so on. It wasn't until he woke up in the afternoon that he stopped to re-evaluate the fight and admitted to himself that, yeah, he'd been pretty immature and petty, and it was a stupid fucking fight.
He wasn't going to apologize until Alex did, though. There was still enough lingering bitterness for him to be stubborn about that. Luckily, he didn't need to wait long.
There was a pause before he responded, as he considered what to say. Several passive-aggressive jabs crossed his mind, but he was rested enough and calm enough now to check himself and not let any of them make it out of his mouth. "It's fine," was what he finally said, without turning to face Alex, focusing on the breakfast he was cooking instead. "I'm sorry, too."
He was, at least, mildly relieved that Ravi had responded positively. He finished his water and set the glass in the sink.
"Need anything picked up?" he asked, slipping into his sneakers.
"No, I--Ah." He realized why Alex was asking. Ravi turned to look at him over his shoulder. "I'll drive you down there after breakfast, if you want."
Yeah, he wasn't actually going to force Alex to take the bus back to the hospital. That was a dick move.
He hesitated. It wasn't that he had read Ravi's mind (if only he could), but that it would be easier to take the bus than ask for a ride after their fight. Not that it mattered since Ravi had just offered to take him...
Alex slipped out of his shoes and took a seat at the island, pulling up the bus website on his phone as a means of distraction. It didn't take long for him to find directions to the hospital. He went over them several times, then glanced up at Ravi. "You mentioned a sister."
Ravi accepted that as confirmation.
When the food was done, he turned off the stove and pulled a plate down from the cupboard. He didn't pause when Alex spoke, continuing on to transfer the scrambled eggs from the pan to the plate. "I think she is supposed to be my sister, yes. Why?"
His attention fell to the edge of the plate closest to him. "What did you feel?"
He sat at the island across from Alex to eat, on the kitchen side. There was a pause before he answered, reviewing the memory in his mind and trying to shove aside the knot in his stomach that he felt when recalling the emotions involved.
His answer was distant, clinical--his way of dealing with difficult feelings. "Sad. Hopeless. Like I'd lost something very important."
"Have you ever felt like that before?"
He'd meant to the degree the memory had evoked, but didn't think to clarify.
That was not an easy question to answer. Ravi had experienced some very strong and very deep feelings over the course of his life, and it was only since his 20s that they'd evened out into a more stable baseline. Even then, that was mostly thanks to the Lexapro taking the edge off of his anxiety, not a natural progression.
Which meant that when it came to overwhelmingly strong emotions, the only times he had to draw from were the times before he'd been put on it, or the times he'd been forced off of it. There had been quite a bit of hopelessness and anger and bitterness wrapped up in his family's move to America, but that wasn't comparable to the feelings from this memory. That wasn't loss, it was the sense of his life being out of his control.
There were experiences from Baghdad that came much closer. Risking his life to drag a fallen comrade behind a barricade while his unit was stuck in a firefight, trying desperately to save him and ultimately failing. That was the first time he'd lost somebody whose life was his sole responsibility. He remembered fighting back a panic attack while his sergeant shouted at him to hold himself together, not due to lack of compassion, but an abundance of it. He remembered finally having the space to break down once they'd made it somewhere safe, after tending the remaining wounded as best he could with his hands shaking and his eyes refusing to focus.
That was closer. That sense of despair, of guilt, of having something ripped away from him that could never be restored or even adequately described outside of his own head. It wasn't a loss in the same sense as losing a close family member. He had no close family members, and very few close friends, all of whom were fortunate enough to have survived until now. It was a loss of safety, of certainty, in essence that moment most young adults go through at some point in their transition from teenager to adult where it becomes clear that they are not invincible and that the world is cruel and that danger is very, very real.
It was the feeling of overwhelming dread at the knowledge that his life had been permanently, irreversibly changed. That, that was comparable. The memory of seeing the corpse of this woman who was supposedly his sister carried a similar feeling of dread at an irreversible change, and a similar hopelessness at not knowing how to cope with that.
He'd gone off into his own world while he processed through his memories for the information to answer Alex, staring blank and unfocused down at his plate while he idly shoved the food around with his fork.
He'd since come to terms with that experience, thanks in no small part to his very skilled therapist. But it was still difficult to think back on his feelings then, especially when he was trying to compare them to equally overwhelming feelings that were new and unfamiliar and hadn't yet had the chance to settle in his memory.
His answer, finally, was a nod, given without looking up.
The longer the silence stretched, the more concerned Alex became. He wondered, as he lifted his eyes enough to look at Ravi's face, then dropped them to look at the eggs being pushed around, if perhaps he shouldn't have asked at all. He had inadvertently asked Ravi to dredge up unpleasant memories for comparison.
He reached out, placing his hand over Ravi's. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. It was as much an apology for the memories as it was for asking.
He stilled, his eyes pulling into focus on Alex's hand.
He didn't like to talk about the bad experiences on his deployments. The funny or aggravating he had no problem sharing as anecdotes, but there were obvious holes left between what he did say and what he wouldn't. He made no attempt to hide those holes or cover them up, only to deflect and make it clear they were there.
"Don't worry about it," he said, sliding his hand out from under Alex's, eyes lifting to his face. "Why do you ask?"
Likewise, Alex retracted his hand, dropping it into his lap. He wasn't surprised by Ravi's reaction. It was important to him that he be the one to reach out, though, since Ravi hardly ever did when it came to his own problems.
With a light shrug, he said, "I wondered. That's all."
He didn't think that was all. It seemed too specific to be an idle question. Maybe Alex was backing down because he realized he'd dredged up something unpleasant, and he didn't want to make it worse. Ravi felt a little awkward about that; he didn't like it when people noticed these things, but at the same time he preferred Alex have the consideration to notice and back off than for him to press.
He did his best to shove it aside, and forced himself to eat even though he wasn't really hungry anymore.
He really hoped he didn't end up meeting a look-alike of his sister the same way Alex had met a look-alike of his wife.
What: A patient who looks identical to Alex's past-life wife ends up dying in the ER. Also the muns are weirdos who like to do that 'log it offsite and post completed log' thing 8|b
When: July 9th, Tuesday
Where: LCUH ER -> Ravi's apartment
Warnings for (non-graphic) references to vehicular trauma, war/combat, dead bodies, death in general
Normal fare was Alexander and Ravindra driving their own vehicles to work, even when they shared the same shift. One never knew when the other would be held back, and both understood the basal desire to get home as soon as possible.
This morning was different. Instead of heading home after clocking out, Alex searched the ER for a patient he had brought in several hours ago. There was a nervous energy about him pushing the edges, barely contained. Car accident, speeding, lanes closed off, the usual fare -- until he and his partner were back in the rig with one of the injured, running a code three, and Alex had finally got a good look at her face.
Catherine's face.
He'd frozen up for what felt like minutes, but was only a second or two. Years of experience took over; he'd resumed work to stabilize her until they reached the hospital, where he signed her off to the nurses. Once the task was out of his hands, he was free to fret and worry about the woman who looked exactly like the woman he was married to in his 'memory'.
It was a very unpleasant freedom.
He'd switched positions with his partner, taking the driver's seat instead. His change in demeanor wasn't lost on her. He'd brushed her inquiry off, claiming an uncanny resemblance to a family member. She hadn't pressed after that.
The next corner he turned granted him Ravi. Alex hurried towards him, the only nurse who wasn't busy, and asked him, in a hushed voice, "Adult female, trauma, head-on collision with a speeding car, opposite lane. Where?"
Ravindra hadn't given the patient much thought beyond what was required for her care. He'd seen the same thing countless times before: unconscious, critical condition, an anxious husband who'd been contacted as soon as possible and sat fretting nearby. Nothing made it stand out from any other vehicular trauma case.
He was in the room when she went into cardiac arrest. He was the one who'd called the code. He was performing the chest compressions when it became clear that she was not going to respond to resuscitation. He did it all on autopilot, so ingrained in his mind that he didn't even stop to think about it.
After the doctor pronounced her dead, after all the wires and tubes were removed, for just a moment--in between disconnecting her from the machines and pulling the sheet over her head--he saw her battered, lifeless body without any of the familiar trappings of critical care.
That was when it happened. The strange hollow feeling and the distant sound of a heartbeat, followed by the very stark memory of three women lying dead under the rubble of a building. A completely unfamiliar South-Asian woman that he understood to be his sister, a young child that he knew to be his best friend's daughter, and the woman who'd died obviously trying to shield the child with her body, this woman, the same face lying under the sheet in front of him, his best friend's wife.
The memory came with a wave of emotion, a mixed pool of grief, despair, hopelessness, and regret. He didn't feel it, but he remembered feeling it, and that was enough to give him a familiar knot of anxiety, like a lead chain tangled up in his guts.
Ravi was not typically one to react strongly when a patient died. Usually, he brushed it off more easily than most of the staff, or at least he seemed to. This time, he'd asked to be excused, went outside to have a cigarette where no one would bother him, and took a ten minute break to collect himself.
After that, he'd forced himself to put it out of mind and gone back to his work. He put himself on autopilot again. It wasn't until Alex ran up to him in the hallway, a couple hours later, that he finally re-engaged fully. Ravi stared at him briefly, his brain catching up to the question before he could answer it.
"...Dead," he said finally. He paused, then added, "A couple hours ago. Coded."
His breath caught. His expression twisted in grief, the hurt so heartbreaking and personal he didn't stop to question how bizarre it was to feel it for someone he had just met. Along with it came the familiar sensation of an Echo, but it wasn't met with the same sense of confusion or curiosity as previous ones. Alex actively fought against it, regardless of futility. Now, more than ever, did it feel like an intruder, unwanted, unwarranted, unwelcome.
He released the breath, closing his eyes as the heat of tears gathered behind them. Whatever the effect of the Echo, it was delayed, but Alex couldn't bring himself to feel grateful. He drew his hand over his eyes, turning a half-step away from Ravi, and took a deep breath to try and compose himself. He was trying, like many do, to keep from crying by biting down on his lower lip.
It wasn't working.
He was not expecting that reaction. Confusion warred with concern. The concern won. He moved beside Alex and reached out, hesitant, to set a hand on his shoulder blade in an attempt to comfort him.
His best friend's wife, he realized. And Alex had spoken before about his memories of a wife he'd never had. He didn't know who the best friend from the memory was supposed to be, but it was easy to assume it was Alex. And from there, easy to assume that the patient looked like the same wife Alex was remembering.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice soft. He had no idea what else to do.
He shook his head, rubbing the tears from his cheeks. More threatened to replace them, so he turned his chin up towards the bright, white lights in the ceiling and took another deep breath to steady himself.
"Morgue?" he asked, voice thick. He wanted to see her again. If she'd passed a couple hours ago, then her bed would have been freed up for the next case as soon as possible.
He nodded, then added a verbal grunt in confirmation, since Alex wasn't looking to see the nod.
Catherine was in the morgue.
Alex stepped away from Ravi's hand and started down the hall.
His hand hovered in the air a few seconds before he lowered it.
It didn't take long for him to realize where Alex was going.
He jogged a few steps to catch up and set a hand on Alex's arm to stop him. "They're not going to let you in there."
He threw Ravi a look just shy of frustration over his shoulder. When he realized that Ravi was right, he grit his teeth and looked away, covering part of his face in his hand again. Of course he wouldn't be permitted to enter. Security wouldn't believe him. If he were in their shoes, he wouldn't believe himself, either.
His hand dropped back to his side. "She's my wife," he said quietly. The blatant falsity of that statement only seemed to upset him more. "I mean- I remember her as my wife. I know it doesn't make sense, but--"
He cut himself off, abruptly turning away with a soft curse. A nurse pushing an empty gurney urged him to stand off to the side.
Ravi offered his coworker a politely sheepish apology and pulled Alex off to the side to get them both out of the path of traffic. As soon as she was past them, he returned his attention to Alex, his expression shifting instantly to solemn. "It's not real, Alex," he said, and though he knew the words would probably sting, his tone was gentle.
But the memory sparked by her death seemed as real to Ravi as any other. It was only the knowledge that it had never actually happened that kept him from believing it. The feelings associated with it were distant now that he'd had the chance to process them, but the overwhelming sense of grief and despair that he remembered feeling still echoed inside of him when he thought of that body down in the morgue.
He checked his watch. The look on his face was a familiar one; it meant he was about to reluctantly capitulate to something he knew was a bad idea. "Alicia is running late." The morning-shift RN who was coming on to relieve him. "After she comes, I can try to get you in there."
Whether or not security would buy the excuse, who knew. But Alex certainly had a better chance with an RN escort than he did alone.
Perhaps it wasn't real, but the love he'd had in that one 'memory' felt real enough.
He wasn't looking at Ravi when he scrounged up the idea. When he spoke, Alex refocused his attention onto him. He considered the offer with a grim sort of hope. (Who hopes to see a loved one's body? But better her body than nothing.)
Closing his eyes, he swallowed, then nodded. "I'll wait in the break room."
It was on his way there that Alex started to doubt. He'd already been questioned about his unusual response by his rig partner. Ordinary EMS procedure did not include seeing the patient after they'd died. For a paramedic, his role in their survival ended as soon as he signed them off to the ER staff. All he had was a flimsy lie about a resemblance to a family member.
Hardly any weight.
Alicia joined him in the room, bidding him good morning. He automatically returned it with a greeting and smile of his own. "Something happen?" she asked, noticing his red, puffy eyes.
With a light shrug, he said, "Something hit a little close to home."
Her lips parted in a sympathetic "ah."
She spared a hand on his arm, a brief touch of sympathy, before leaving the room. That meant Ravi would be in soon.
There wasn't much to finish up. Once Alicia clocked in and Ravi gave her his shift-change report, he was free to clock out and go. He met Alex in the break room, resigned to this morgue visit that he was fairly certain would not pan out.
"Ready?" he asked, standing in the doorway.
Pushing off the counter, he met Ravi at the doorway, placed his arm around his shoulder, and led him out -- in the direction of the exit, not the morgue. "Let's not."
As much as he wanted to see Catherine, Alex didn't want to risk bringing any unnecessary attention on either of them. He had wished Ravi were a part of the mystery for months. Now that he was, he had to consider his safety, too. He was probably toeing the edge of paranoia, but better to be safe than sorry.
"Ah--alright." His confusion was pretty mild, and faded quickly. If Alex had changed his mind, he wasn't going to argue. It had been a bad idea in the first place. He was relieved that he wouldn't need to embarrass himself trying to manufacture a reasonable excuse to convince security.
He waited until they were out the doors to ask, "Do you want me to drive you home?"
Though his paranoia was legitimate in his eyes, it was still a struggle to knowingly leave her behind. He kept his arm around Ravi for his own sake.
"No. I'll be fine."
And that would be a hassle besides.
"Are you sure?" Ravi would rather have the hassle than have Alex driving unsafely because he was too upset to focus.
He stopped, relaxing his hold on Ravi enough for his arm to fall away when Ravi continued walking. "You think I'm going to be the next accident?" he asked, trying to sound humorous. It fell flat.
Ravi paused and looked back when Alex's hand fell away. He didn't even acknowledge the attempt at humour in the words. "I want to be sure you won't be."
He sighed, resigned, his shoulders slumping with the action. "All right."
He offered Alex a reassuring smile, though it was a little weak, and set a hand on his shoulder. He let it fall away once they were walking again, headed for the employee lot.
His car was a metallic grey corvette, coupe, non-convertible, with a monthly payment higher than his rent. It was definitely not the sort of car people expected when they thought of him. But he'd chosen it because he liked it, and that was the only opinion that mattered. The car was kind of a symbol of his own quest for self-confidence. He liked it enough that he could feel good about it even in the face of criticism (and boy had it ever gotten criticism Alex), which reminded him that the other criticisms he met in his life were the same--opinions that didn't matter because they weren't his.
Basically, if you tried to psychoanalyze him by his car, you'd be right to try but the obvious conclusion--that he was trying to impress others--would be dead wrong.
He didn't say anything else until they were out of the employee parking lot and on the streets. Then, he glanced to Alex out of the corner of his eye, past the edge of the sunglasses he wore while driving, and said, "I had a memory of her, too."
Jokingly, ok.
He'd been settling into a numb state of being, dense and full of white noise, when Ravi spoke. The admittance jarred him out of it. He turned his head to look directly at Ravi, brows furrowed. Still under the assumption that he and Ravi shared memories from the same past, Alex wasn't surprised to hear it.
He waited silently for Ravi to expand.
The lack of verbal reply didn't bother him. He knew it was an expectant silence.
"After she died, I remembered seeing it before." He paused, considering what else of the memory to mention, and opted to leave out the part about the child. "It was in the wreckage of a building. There was another woman, too--I think my sister? But I don't have a sister." Just like Alex didn't have a wife.
His gaze fell to the dash between them, chest constricting at the thought. Two memories of seeing Catherine die-- one real, one questionable. He looked at Ravi again.
"Do you believe in reincarnation?"
"Of course," he answered, immediately and with absolute certainty. He'd been raised Hindu and he still maintained most of those beliefs, even if he was largely non-practicing. That included accepting karma and reincarnation as universal axioms.
He was fidgeting with the ring on his finger, unconscious of the action. "Then the memories-- the visions that feel like memories-- what if they are from a past life?"
The suggestion gave him pause. He went silent for a moment, looking out at the road and the streetlights ahead of him.
While he took reincarnation as a given, Ravindra very rarely considered what his past lives might have been like. It usually came up only as a passing reference, a comment that something he'd done in a past life must have affected his karma in this one. But the idea of past life memories emerging in a person's current life was not new--even setting aside the dubious viability of so-called 'past life regressions.' He'd heard some say that instinct was a sort of past-life memory. Beyond the conscious, and even subconscious, was the unconscious, and whatever the ineffable Self carried over resided therein.
Perhaps it was possible that these memories were coming from recollections of a past life. In that case, it made sense for something similar to unlock the memory and cause it to resurface. Chiding Alex for sleeping on the couch and the memory of chiding him for sleeping on the floor in an entirely different house. Seeing a woman who looked like someone he'd known and remembering her in a similar state.
Ah, but what about the pendant? That memory didn't fit in the same way. After watching the recording of the old man's speech, he'd received a memory of what had seemed to be a church and an old priest with a pendant. There was nothing in the recording that seemed reminiscent of that. And there were other holes too, like where had the numbers and network come from? Why did the people in his memories seem to resemble people he either already knew or would recognize later?
He hadn't quite given up on the schizophrenia explanation. It was just shifting more toward a shared experience of schizophrenia. The woman who looked like Catherine, he must have seen her before at some point and never consciously registered it, and then his brain had cooked up a delusion about her when he saw her again. That seemed somehow more plausible to him than the sheer amount of coincidence involved in reincarnating with the exact same appearance, while the people from his memories also did, in the exact same lifetimes and time frames.
Finally, he answered. "Your past life as a vampire?" The skeptical tone made it clear he was pointing out a flaw in the idea.
There was a rising anxiousness in his gut as he waited for Ravindra's response, as if somehow his answer would put everything into perspective. He realized the expectation had been unrealistic when he received a skeptical question as an answer.
Alex didn't bother hiding the heavy exhale through his nose. He leaned against the door, hair smothered between the window and his skull. For the moment, his hands had ceased their fidgeting and rested still in his lap. "Forget it," he said, yielding. He wasn't in the mood to argue a point he wasn't even sure of himself.
That made him feel guilty. He wasn't trying to shoot down the idea, he just...still didn't quite believe any of this was real. He approached it all with a sort of detachment, taking it in and processing it but holding it at a distance until the truth behind everything became clear.
It was a defense mechanism. The same sort of detachment he'd needed to weather Baghdad.
But if he didn't know what the truth was, there was no harm in encouraging Alex's theories for now. "Sorry," he said, throwing a quick glance at him before turning back to the road. "It's as good a theory as any. I'm only not sure what to believe."
To that, he had nothing worth saying. The only reason he had brought up the possibility of reincarnation in this context was to try and prove that his feelings for the woman who had died were rooted in some sort of truth. There had been an unexplainable hurt when Ravi had claimed otherwise.
As the buildings and pedestrians whizzed by, Alex began to fall into the detached, numb state Ravi had jarred him out of earlier. That's when the effect of the Echo finally started to slither in-- or rather, out-- of his subconscious and into the forefront of his mind. Though Ravindra was preoccupied with driving, he saw Ravindra standing in front of him, and though it was morning outside, it was evening then, as it had been in all of his other 'memories'.
Relief, dread, shock. Dead. Ten years ago. Pneumonia.
Bending over in his seat, Alex smothered his palm against his face. "Fuck."
A sudden surge of frustration had him slamming the bottom of his fist against the window. "Fuck!"
Nothing made sense! Catherine, dead again! Three times. Three different lives, three different deaths. Perhaps they weren't three different lives-- perhaps there was another explanation-- but that was hardly the point. She kept dying.
He jumped at the sudden outburst, flashing Alex a wary glance. It almost made him miss the sudden change of the light to a yellow, right at the edge of his safe stopping distance. He hit the brake hard, lacking the distance for a smooth stop, and the car jolted to an abrupt halt at the intersection line, hard enough to trigger the seat-belt auto-lock.
The irony of a near-miss traffic mishap after he'd offered to drive because it was safer was not lost on him. He pointedly ignored it.
"Holy shit." That was half for Alex, half for the adrenaline spike from the stop. He turned to his friend, somewhere between shocked and concerned. "What is it?"
Well, that was one way to snap him out of his anger. The seatbelt dug into his chest, preventing him from lurching forward. After a few seconds, when it became obvious the car wasn't going anywhere, Alex tried to force himself to relax. He was mildly successful.
"I asked you where she was," he muttered, an undercurrent of bitterness in his voice. "She died ten years after me."
Ravi continued to stare for a moment, not quite understanding the implications of that. "Ah...?"
He thrust his hands out in another burst of frustration, like he wanted to throttle someone, but couldn't. "Another memory! They don't happen right away for me-- I don't know why-- it doesn't matter. She's dead."
He dropped his hands onto the seat, just shy of slamming them down, then leaned forward again, propping his elbows on his thighs and his face in his hands. It wasn't the safest position, but safety in the car was not currently Alex's top priority, as demonstrated moments ago. His volatility appeared to evaporate, allowing resignation to take its place.
That didn't actually explain much, and Ravi found the 'it doesn't matter' frustrating because he did want to understand what Alex meant.
The light turned green. He let Alex stew in silence for a bit while he tried to parse what had just happened for meaning. The wording hit him as he pulled into the apartment's parking lot, but he waited until they were parked and the engine dead before saying anything. "How did you ask me if she died ten years before you did...?"
The vampire thing? Or a mistake in whatever narrative these memories were forming?
Alex was too distracted to feel, let alone express, thanks for the space Ravi gave him.
"I died first," was his automatic answer, out of his mouth as matter-of-factly as saying his own name. Only afterward did he realize the ease in which it had left his mouth was rather peculiar. The memory was fresh enough that he had adopted the Alex of then's acceptance of the fact.
Ravi cocked his head, arching an eyebrow, wordlessly attempting to direct Alex's attention to the logical inconsistency.
He returned the look with pinched brows and a frown. "What?"
Really, Alex?
"If you were dead, how did you ask me?"
He leveled what was just barely a glare at him. "Good question."
By his tone, it was obvious Alex didn't think that was a 'good' question at all.
He finished unbuckling the seatbelt and unlocked the door.
"It is a good question!" he shot back, indignant.
He hit the door lock button. Purely out of spite.
A fact Alex realized after he tried to open the door and failed. He made an irritated noise and unlocked the door again, throwing it open before Ravi had a chance to spite him again.
Motherfucker.
Ravi snapped off his sunglasses, tossing them into the cupholder where he usually left them. He missed, they bounced onto the seat Alex had just vacated. He noticed, but didn't care. He was already tearing the keys out of the ignition and climbing out of the car.
"You don't think that matters?" he shouted after Alex, shutting--not slamming--the car door behind him.
Without stopping, Alex turned around and shrugged dramatically at him. "That's what vampires do," he called back, somehow managing to make it sound accusatory. "Rise from the dead."
"You're not a fucking vampire!" he snapped back.
"No shit! Vampires don't exist!"
(Shut up, Ravi! Don't yell that kind of shit!)
"Then why is that your answer?!"
He splayed his fingers and slowly clenched them into fists. Debating the validity of whether or not he was a vampire was not something Alex wanted to do in a parking lot. Ignoring Ravi, he threw one look at the elevator and took the stairs instead, hoping to burn some of his aggravation out on the ascent.
Ravi glared after him, not at all pleased with that end to the conversation. He huffed out a growl and went to take the elevator, perfectly happy to avoid Alex in the stairwell.
A twelve-hour ER shift would wear anybody out. Combined with the strange elements of the lookalike patient and unfamiliar memories, it left him much more irritated than the situation actually called for. What did it matter to Ravi if Alex wanted to believe he was experiencing past life memories of a time when he'd been a vampire? Right now it only mattered because Ravi didn't want Alex to believe it, because he didn't believe it. Once he got some rest and re-evaluated the situation, he'd realize he was being unreasonable, but for now...
For now, when managed to get to the apartment before Alex by some twist of luck, he was feeling vindictive enough to slam the door on him.
And then lock it.
Start a fight with him over a perfectly reasonable question, will you!
Alas, the walk hadn't calmed him. He mentally criticized Ravi for shouting in the parking lot, considering that not only careless but two steps backwards on his attempt to avoid unwanted attention by turning down Ravi's offer to attempt entering the morgue. Alex was blowing their spat out of proportion, but he was too stressed and worn out from the past twelve hours to check himself before he wrecked himself.
He wasn't happy to see Ravi entering the apartment before him, but whatever. He continued walking, not at all expecting the door to be slammed on him.
Naturally, this didn't improve his mood. "Fucker," he muttered, going for the doorknob.
Locked.
Alex stared incredulously at it. Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and kicked the door.
Only after that did he fumble for his keys, unlock the door and enter the room. "Nice, jackass," he called, slamming the door shut and angrily locking it up. "Real fucking mature there."
He'd stopped to take his shoes off by the door, so he was only a few steps across the living room when Alex entered. He spun to face Alex, coming to a stop. "Ah, yes, because snapping at me for asking a question was very mature."
He slipped out of his shoes. "How about you fucking trust me about what I say I've seen so far? If it turns out I'm wrong, you can gloat about it later."
"You think I don't trust you?" There was a note of offense to it, but his tone mostly made it sound like the idea was patently absurd. "No, Alex, I trust that you believe what you tell me. I'm only skeptical that it's what actually is true."
"Oh, so now you're cherry-picking what you'll accept as truth? Get Olivia or Adhi."
He gave Alex an incredulous look, because that was not what he'd meant and what did the cats have to do with anything? "No, Alex, I don't believe any of it is true."
He made no move to find either cat, but Adhirat was busy grooming himself on the cat tower in the corner of the living room if Alex wanted to make use of him.
Figured Adhirat wouldn't bolt when he heard the door slammed and kicked. Aloof fucker.
Alex crossed the living room to get to Adhi, placing a hand on the cat's back to prevent him from escaping. Adhi stared at the offending hand like he couldn't believe Alex had the audacity to interrupt his grooming time, then slowly turned his dirty look onto him.
Which was perfect since Alex needed that eye contact. Once the trance was established, he stepped away from the cat tower and folded his arms across his chest.
Under his order, Adhi sat back on his haunches like a prairie dog. Alex stuck his tongue between his teeth. So did Adhi. He briefly unfolded his arms to put his fingers by his eyes and force them wide open. Adhi's eyes went wide as saucers.
He looked dumb as all hell.
Alex folded his arms again, satisfied. Cocky motherfucker.
When Alex finished being a smug motherfucker, he'd turn around to find the living room empty.
Ravi did not care about whatever he was trying to prove. As soon as Alex's attention was off of him, he'd walked away, retreating to his room.
Oh, the indignation.
"Vin!" he snapped loudly, stepping into the hallway. "Get back here!"
Adhirat remained in the same position, staring into space.
Nope. The bedroom door clicked shut behind him. He was done with this.
With a frustrated noise, Alex turned around, snatched Adhirat off of the cat tower and threw the bedroom door open.
"Watch," he growled, releasing the cat.
... Except he didn't tell him to land, so Adhirat's fall was most undignified.
Alex winced. "Shit, sorry."
Ravi was digging through his dresser for a set of nightclothes when Alex barged in. He snapped to face the door when he heard it open, indignant that Alex would go so far as invading his private space to continue the fight.
Olivia, curled up in his desk chair, raised her head to watch.
Before Ravi could say anything, Alex dropped the cat. Any point he was trying to make was completely ruined by the fact that that was awful why would you do that! Ravi looked horrified. He rushed over to scoop Adhi up from the floor, a limp bundle of fur and limbs, and cradled him to his chest. "Oh, Adhi, I'm sorry, baby," he murmured, his cheek against the cat's head as he stroked his fur, trying to comfort him. "It's okay, shh, you're okay."
Olivia's ear flicked when Adhi hit the ground. She tensed, ears angled slightly back, like she was waiting for a cue to run.
Alex felt bad for dropping the cat, but his guilt evaporated in exasperation at Ravi's handling of him.
"Adhi, bite his nose. Gently," he added hastily, right before the cat's teeth made contact with the tip of Ravi's nose.
Ravi's head snapped up just before Adhi followed through with the orders, which put his nose safely out of the cat's reach. Any ensuing fussing he assumed was just Adhi's usual dislike for being held. He set the cat down on the floor (gently) and shoved Alex toward the door. "Get out!" he demanded, as though offended that he was still there.
"For fuck's sake!" Alex put his hand in the door frame, refusing to move any further. "What do I have to do, tell him to piss on you?"
That did not make Ravi any less intent on getting him out. He grabbed the edge of the door and pulled it toward himself, not closing it yet but making it clear he intended to. "Stop fighting with me, you stupid asshole! I don't care about whatever you're trying to prove!"
And if Alex didn't move that hand, he was getting the door slammed on it. Or at least, a threatening fake-out to warn him that Ravi would do it
After another unintelligible noise of frustration, he threw up his hands in defeat and turned away. "Fuck it! Think whatever you wanna think."
He went into the bathroom for the customary shower he always took after a shift and slammed the door behind him.
He didn't grace it with a reply. He slammed his door as soon as Alex vacated the doorway and turned back to his dresser. Olivia had since scurried under the bed in the commotion, but Adhi sat where Ravi had left him, still under the effects of Alex's trance.
Ravi had gathered that Alex was trying to prove that he could somehow control the cats, because that was the only way his comments made any sense. But even if he could control the cats, what did that prove? It certainly didn't prove he was turning into a vampire, or that they were experiencing past life flashbacks, or that he was getting flashbacks of his past life as a vampire. All it proved was that he'd somehow gained the ability to control cats.
In Ravi's book, that meant absolutely fuck-all in terms of whether or not any of this was believable.
Olivia came out from under the bed to cautiously approach Adhi. He roused from the trance to see her in his face, hissed at her, and jumped onto the bed to groom his fur back into its proper place. Ravi threw him an admonishing glare.
Then he heard the shower start running and quickly turned that glare on the wall across the room. That motherfucker! Couldn't win the argument so he stole the shower! Ravi had been planning to drive him back in the evening to pick up his truck, but fuck that, Alex was taking the bus now.
Unlike how the time spent walking up the stairs to their apartment had only fueled his irritation, Alex's anger and frustration with Ravi crumbled under the relentless spray of hot water. Without either buffer, he was forced to face the vague despair of losing Catherine again. He slumped against the shower wall and zoned, too exhausted on all counts to feel anything more acute than melancholy.
A bang on the door told him he'd taken too long. He finished cleaning up with prune-like hands and exited the bathroom with a veil of steam and a muttered apology. Gomez was already inside, eating alongside the other two cats; Alex left his door ajar in case he wanted to come in later. Following routine, he slipped into a pair of boxers without much thought and went to bed. His sleep was deep and blessedly dreamless, but when he woke and realized this, another layer of guilt washed over him. Shouldn't he have tossed and turned, had trouble with unpleasant dreams? Catherine was dead.
He washed up and got dressed with the same mechanical somberness, and entered the kitchen only for a glass of water. Unsurprisingly, he hadn't much of an appetite.
Ravindra was in there, fixing himself something to eat. Alex waited for an opportunity to speak before saying, "Sorry. About earlier."
Conversely, Ravi stewed. He just wanted to sleep, and he couldn't until Alex got out of the shower so he could get in, and Alex was taking for fucking ever in there, and so on. It wasn't until he woke up in the afternoon that he stopped to re-evaluate the fight and admitted to himself that, yeah, he'd been pretty immature and petty, and it was a stupid fucking fight.
He wasn't going to apologize until Alex did, though. There was still enough lingering bitterness for him to be stubborn about that. Luckily, he didn't need to wait long.
There was a pause before he responded, as he considered what to say. Several passive-aggressive jabs crossed his mind, but he was rested enough and calm enough now to check himself and not let any of them make it out of his mouth. "It's fine," was what he finally said, without turning to face Alex, focusing on the breakfast he was cooking instead. "I'm sorry, too."
He was, at least, mildly relieved that Ravi had responded positively. He finished his water and set the glass in the sink.
"Need anything picked up?" he asked, slipping into his sneakers.
"No, I--Ah." He realized why Alex was asking. Ravi turned to look at him over his shoulder. "I'll drive you down there after breakfast, if you want."
Yeah, he wasn't actually going to force Alex to take the bus back to the hospital. That was a dick move.
He hesitated. It wasn't that he had read Ravi's mind (if only he could), but that it would be easier to take the bus than ask for a ride after their fight. Not that it mattered since Ravi had just offered to take him...
Alex slipped out of his shoes and took a seat at the island, pulling up the bus website on his phone as a means of distraction. It didn't take long for him to find directions to the hospital. He went over them several times, then glanced up at Ravi. "You mentioned a sister."
Ravi accepted that as confirmation.
When the food was done, he turned off the stove and pulled a plate down from the cupboard. He didn't pause when Alex spoke, continuing on to transfer the scrambled eggs from the pan to the plate. "I think she is supposed to be my sister, yes. Why?"
His attention fell to the edge of the plate closest to him. "What did you feel?"
He sat at the island across from Alex to eat, on the kitchen side. There was a pause before he answered, reviewing the memory in his mind and trying to shove aside the knot in his stomach that he felt when recalling the emotions involved.
His answer was distant, clinical--his way of dealing with difficult feelings. "Sad. Hopeless. Like I'd lost something very important."
"Have you ever felt like that before?"
He'd meant to the degree the memory had evoked, but didn't think to clarify.
That was not an easy question to answer. Ravi had experienced some very strong and very deep feelings over the course of his life, and it was only since his 20s that they'd evened out into a more stable baseline. Even then, that was mostly thanks to the Lexapro taking the edge off of his anxiety, not a natural progression.
Which meant that when it came to overwhelmingly strong emotions, the only times he had to draw from were the times before he'd been put on it, or the times he'd been forced off of it. There had been quite a bit of hopelessness and anger and bitterness wrapped up in his family's move to America, but that wasn't comparable to the feelings from this memory. That wasn't loss, it was the sense of his life being out of his control.
There were experiences from Baghdad that came much closer. Risking his life to drag a fallen comrade behind a barricade while his unit was stuck in a firefight, trying desperately to save him and ultimately failing. That was the first time he'd lost somebody whose life was his sole responsibility. He remembered fighting back a panic attack while his sergeant shouted at him to hold himself together, not due to lack of compassion, but an abundance of it. He remembered finally having the space to break down once they'd made it somewhere safe, after tending the remaining wounded as best he could with his hands shaking and his eyes refusing to focus.
That was closer. That sense of despair, of guilt, of having something ripped away from him that could never be restored or even adequately described outside of his own head. It wasn't a loss in the same sense as losing a close family member. He had no close family members, and very few close friends, all of whom were fortunate enough to have survived until now. It was a loss of safety, of certainty, in essence that moment most young adults go through at some point in their transition from teenager to adult where it becomes clear that they are not invincible and that the world is cruel and that danger is very, very real.
It was the feeling of overwhelming dread at the knowledge that his life had been permanently, irreversibly changed. That, that was comparable. The memory of seeing the corpse of this woman who was supposedly his sister carried a similar feeling of dread at an irreversible change, and a similar hopelessness at not knowing how to cope with that.
He'd gone off into his own world while he processed through his memories for the information to answer Alex, staring blank and unfocused down at his plate while he idly shoved the food around with his fork.
He'd since come to terms with that experience, thanks in no small part to his very skilled therapist. But it was still difficult to think back on his feelings then, especially when he was trying to compare them to equally overwhelming feelings that were new and unfamiliar and hadn't yet had the chance to settle in his memory.
His answer, finally, was a nod, given without looking up.
The longer the silence stretched, the more concerned Alex became. He wondered, as he lifted his eyes enough to look at Ravi's face, then dropped them to look at the eggs being pushed around, if perhaps he shouldn't have asked at all. He had inadvertently asked Ravi to dredge up unpleasant memories for comparison.
He reached out, placing his hand over Ravi's. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. It was as much an apology for the memories as it was for asking.
He stilled, his eyes pulling into focus on Alex's hand.
He didn't like to talk about the bad experiences on his deployments. The funny or aggravating he had no problem sharing as anecdotes, but there were obvious holes left between what he did say and what he wouldn't. He made no attempt to hide those holes or cover them up, only to deflect and make it clear they were there.
"Don't worry about it," he said, sliding his hand out from under Alex's, eyes lifting to his face. "Why do you ask?"
Likewise, Alex retracted his hand, dropping it into his lap. He wasn't surprised by Ravi's reaction. It was important to him that he be the one to reach out, though, since Ravi hardly ever did when it came to his own problems.
With a light shrug, he said, "I wondered. That's all."
He didn't think that was all. It seemed too specific to be an idle question. Maybe Alex was backing down because he realized he'd dredged up something unpleasant, and he didn't want to make it worse. Ravi felt a little awkward about that; he didn't like it when people noticed these things, but at the same time he preferred Alex have the consideration to notice and back off than for him to press.
He did his best to shove it aside, and forced himself to eat even though he wasn't really hungry anymore.
He really hoped he didn't end up meeting a look-alike of his sister the same way Alex had met a look-alike of his wife.