Homeplot: Ghosts

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Homeplot: Ghosts

He means to do it for days before he actually gets around to going. Every time he and Meredith leave the castle, something in Sean wants to take him down the path that branches off to the small cemetery off by the forest's edge, but he can never bring himself to actually do it. He knows that he needs to, and that it should be sooner rather than later even with the way the expectation that he'll wake up back on the island gets a little smaller every day, but that doesn't make it something he can just slip into his routine. He needs to block off a specific time to do it, to slink off on his own and just pay his respects like he should have days ago, years ago.

Since he knows that the chance isn't just going to come up on its own, he eventually makes it, waking just before dawn and dressing by the light of the remains of last night's fire. When Meredith asks him where he's going, he tells the truth, but he also doesn't stick around to talk about it, heading out right as the sun peeks over the horizon.

When he gets there, he isn't sure what to do. He feels like he should say something, but he can't stand the thought of wondering whether or not she can hear him. In the end, he winds up just staying stock still in front of the great stone angel standing tall amidst the rows of graves (sticking out from the crowd even in death, that's his Maeve), much like the last time he was in this spot. The only other time.

He stays far longer than he intends to, long enough for a promising morning to turn into a chilly, gray afternoon, but still he doesn't leave. Eventually, once the groundskeeper's finished his rounds for the day and Sean's sure that he's alone, he sits, his elbows resting on his knees. He's not sure what coming out here was supposed to accomplish, but he's pretty sure it's not doing it, although the knowledge that his memory of the words etched in the stone is perfect comes as an odd sort of reassurance.

Maeve Rourke Cassidy

21 May, 1955 - 24 May, 1978

Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go sleep thou with them.

At least some things haven't faded. Cold comfort, but sometimes, that's all he can take.

Finally, after hours of clearing his throat and changing his mind at the last second, he manages to speak, little more than a whisper.

"I miss you."

No one hears it.

He doesn't get up.

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It's early enough when Sean leaves that, in spite of his destination, by some miracle, Meredith goes back to sleep. They've been here long enough that when she wakes for good, she doesn't — this time — wonder where she is, and she isn't entirely surprised to find him still gone either. It's not the kind of errand after which she expects him to come back to bed. She dresses, eats breakfast alone, looks around some of the rooms that have already been shown to her and then outside, and though she's half-aware of where she'll wind up if she doesn't find him first, she takes her time about it. He has a right to his privacy and to time at this, to pay his respects and say his goodbyes, and if there's one place she's still certain she doesn't belong, it's there.

The hours drag on, though, and the pit in her stomach grows and the sky darkens, and eventually she finds herself striking out in search of the cemetery. Trial and error lead her there, though she's still uncertain, hovering at the edge of the small graveyard, even once she spots him. She's finally convinced herself she has every right to be here with him on this land — but not in this place. She's not sure anything can convince her of that. "Sean?"

He sees her coming from a good ways away, but for some reason, it doesn't feel real until she speaks. It's not quite enough to draw him out of the morose half-stupor he's gone and gotten himself into, but after a moment of watching her hover, Sean beckons her over anyway. He knows that it's probably the last place that she wants to be, but she's still who he turns to when he hurts, and the source of the pain can't change that.

Meredith hesitates a moment, but all she can do is walk over to join him, however reluctantly. She doesn't want to be here, doesn't want to see this. She doesn't want to see him like this for that matter, when it always hurts to see him upset and she knows this is one thing she can't even begin to try and fix. Once she reaches him, she stays where she is, coming to a stop without sitting or knowing what to say.

Sean glances up at her, wanting so much for her to be closer but unsure if he can ask that of her. When he speaks, his voice is raw, but deceptively calm when he knows that it probably wouldn't take much to set him off right now.

"I'm nae sure what I... Comin' out here, it was, I think I was expectin' ta... feel somethin', I guess? A presence, or summat. But there's nothin'. Nae but cold stone."

Meredith sighs and presses her lips together, nodding. She's accustomed to the dead. It sounds morbid, but it's just fact, with the way she grew up and the life she chose. The dead don't bother her; for the most part, she's never felt anything there. There's been the odd exception, mostly to do with her mother or whatever happened when she nearly died herself, but there's not much there. Of the pair of them, she'd still, she thinks, be the first to admit to something else beyond, at least most of the time. "I thought you didn't believe in ghosts."

"I don't," Sean says, his tone unchanging as he turns his gaze back to the plot in front of him. "Nae like that, anyway. I mean, I dinnae think I... I dinnae ken what I mean." He gives a quiet, humourless huff of a laugh, shaking his head without looking away. "Maybe I jus'... hoped I would, this time."

There's a slight pressure in Meredith's head, something pushing in on her. She needs to be here, to support him, but at moments like this, though she thinks he tries to reach out to her, he feels so far away. It gets easier to bear, but she's not sure she'll ever be good at it. "What good would it have done?" she asks. "She's still... not here. Not anymore."

Sean tries to nod, but he only ends up bowing his head, viciously blinking back the sudden sting of tears. "It feels so real now," he says, his voice gone tight, his eyes locked on the ground where the woman he loved now lays.

She doesn't know what to do. She never knew the woman, doesn't even want to look at her gravestone and see things to make her that much more of a person, but her existence and absence have been a very, very real part of Meredith's life for a long time. For lack of anything else to offer, she steps closer, hand settling on his shoulder and squeezing gently.

Sean reaches up to awkwardly cover her hand with his own before he even knows that he's doing it, starving for her touch. "'M sorry," he murmurs dully, still unable to look up. "Ye shouldnae've had ta come out here."

"It's fine," Meredith says, shaking her head, moving to stand behind him now. She doesn't want to be here, but she can deal with it. "I didn't have to. You want me to leave you to it a little longer?" It doesn't seem like the best idea, but she's not sure if that's just her judgment skewed by how on edge every reminder of his last wife still makes her.

"I..." Sean starts, trailing immediately off into nothing, unsure of everything. He doesn't want to leave, but he also knows that he could stay out here all through the day and night and it wouldn't change a blessed thing. Maeve would still be gone, and he'd still be squandering away all the good that's he's somehow managed to find again in spite of that. It would still hurt just as sharply as a knife twisting in his chest and he'd still be more alone than ever before.

"No. There's nothin' for me here."

Free hand smoothing through his hair, Meredith keeps her gaze locked on him. Nowhere else here feels like a safe place to look. As much as she wants to be the one who matters, as badly as it hurts sometimes to think of what he had before, she knows it's selfish, and she doesn't want him to think that way every bit as much as she thinks maybe it's better for him if he does. "You don't have to leave yet if you're not ready," she says. "I just came to check on you."

Sean forces his head up a bit, strengthened, however slightly, by her support. "No, I... I need ta get out o' here. I need ta... go find meself a place t'hide away fer a time an' jus'... jus'..."

Just grieve. Without feeling guilty about it, or ashamed, or somehow above it. He owes it to Maeve to remember her properly, without all the filters of anger and avoidance that he's been using for far too long, and he owes it to Meredith to marry her with as clean a slate as he can manage. He'll never be perfect, but he needs to be better.

"I need ta go."

"Okay." Meredith steps back, turning her hand to take his. "Come on. Let's go." She doesn't want to spend any more time out here than she absolutely has to anyway, ready to get him out of here as soon as he'll allow. It's been hours since he came out here; in spite of her offer, she's not sure there's anything left he can accomplish here if he hasn't already.

With his hand in Meredith's, Sean rises slowly to his feet, his muscles sore from sitting for so long. He doesn't leave right away, though. Instead, he resumes his standing vigil for several long moments, taking in the site, the statue, the delicately carved words. He should probably come visit again shortly if he gets the chance, but he somehow already knows that it won't be the same if he does. With how miserable he feels right now, that can only be a good thing.

I love you.

He doesn't speak, but maybe, just maybe, someone hears it anyway.

What he's thinking, what he's waiting for, Meredith doesn't know, but she stays where she is, holding his hand. Patience isn't easy to come by just now, not when it comes to this, but she struggles to find some anyway. The least she owes him is that, a little bit of understanding while he deals with this, looking at their and so she doesn't have to look anywhere else.

He doesn't want to leave, even knowing that he has to, but eventually Sean manages to tear himself away from the grave site and start the long trudge back up to the Keep with Meredith at his side. Parting is always far easier when the other person does it first, after all. Pushing back the pricking of tears for a little while longer, he rubs roughly at his eyes with the back of his free hand. The mask stays on until he's somewhere private, that's one point he won't compromise on.

"Thank ye."

Meredith shakes her head, holding his hand with both of hers as they walk, still watching him as they make their way across the grounds. "I didn't do anything," she says, part protest, part question. If she's helped in some way, then good, but she can't see how when all she's done is to stand around and say nothing of any value. She's bad enough at being useful to people as it is, but when it's him and this, she seems to lose the ability altogether.

"Ye came," is all Sean says, quiet and worn-sounding as he turns his head just slightly to watch her. She said it herself, she didn't have to do that, but she did, no matter how hard it might have been for her, and since Sean can't possibly express how grateful he is for that, he doesn't try.

"You were gone for hours," Meredith says. Even knowing he can take care of himself and that there is almost certainly nothing out here that woud require him to do so, she worries. At least this, as much beyond her as it is, is something she expected. She has no reason at all to be jealous of a dead woman, least of all now, she reminds herself, but the old concern still doesn't go completely away.

Sean nearly apologizes again at that, but catches himself at the last second. He can't let himself feel guilty for this, not anymore. "Ye stayed," he says instead, his tone unchanged.

Meredith almost protests that as well (she doesn't deserve credit for this, does she?). She nearly says it's what they do. It isn't really, though, not entirely. They try to and they're doing better at it, but the urge to bolt is so often there and so easy to give in to. Staying, that's worth something. "I couldn't just leave you there," she says. "Did it help? Being out there?"

"I'm nae sure," Sean says, the only honest answer he can give. He may not feel nearly so muddled and lost now that she's with him again, but that doesn't mean he actually understands anything. "I dinnae think so. But I needed ta do't anyway."

She knows the feeling. It's just never carried itself out quite like that before, not for Meredith. Nodding, she squeezes his hand. "At least you got the chance," she says. She keeps trying to act like they're going back to the island so she won't be disappointed when it happens, but more and more, it feels like they may actually get to stay, which brings up a whole different slew of conflicting feelings.

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