The sun in your universe

Who: Doc and Kurt
When: late night
Where: the house's back porch

Looking out into the dark was much the same, no matter where one was in the world. This was something Kurt was starting to really know for a fact. There were floodlights set up on the back porch, shining out at the back yard, so he could see the shadows coming. That was one thing he never would've had in the old days, but settled in a chair with a firearm resting on his leg while he waited for something to move ... the position was oh so familiar. The stillness that sank into his limbs and stayed there, the constant movement of his eyes, the readiness. He hadn't been doing much relaxing even during the quiet times, aware at every moment of what was behind him in the house. Of who was.

Doc hadn't been in a siege scenario in years and years now, he'd forgotten just how frustrating it could be. Even if he'd been able to fight back, it would've riled him up. The day was spent just waiting, falling back on everyone else to contain the steady flood of shadows coming after them. They didn't go out if they didn't have to, and with seven people in the house Doc figured someone's temper would run out eventually. His was being tested, for certain; Doc wanted to do something about this, to track down every theory and lead he could come up with. But that was part of the lesson he was supposed to learn; sometimes he couldn't, sometimes he simply shouldn't.

Instead, he'd been playing butler for the other six occupants of the house, running supplies, checking whatever wounds were earned, and gathering thoughts in the hopes of piecing together some understanding of this. And of course, he'd been running coffee too. This crisis was testing his famous stock of the stuff, and that wasn't letting up any time soon. Which was why he came out onto the back porch now, a steaming mug in each hand as he moved to join Kurt. "How we looking?" he rumbled in greeting, heading to join the other man.

Kurt shifted a bit to look around at the owner of the voice. Which hurt the leg he had propped up on an overturned bucket, but hey. That was just how things went. He relaxed slightly when he saw it was Doc. Frankly, his kids kind of gave Kurt the creeps. And he hadn't had much contact with the other young man in the house. So out of everyone's available company, he preferred this brand. Especially when it brought coffee. "All quiet for right now," he said, reaching for the mug as it was offered. He brought it up just to smell and breathe in for a moment before he took a sip. On one side of him was another chair with a newspaper he hadn't touched, and neatly stacked within easy reach of his right hand was more ammunition. Something he'd been needing as the day wore on. There were more of them coming at once. "How are things inside?"

"Holding together," Doc answered, settling into a lawn chair next to Kurt and popping out a pack of smokes. He would've been going mad by now if it weren't for the emergency carton he'd stashed in his car. Lighting up, Doc looked out across the yard thoughtfully, eyes intent for hints of foreign shadows. "There's some frayed nerves all around, that's to be expected. We're all surviving, and no one's lost their cool yet, that's the important thing." Though Doc was expecting someone to, if this situation held out for a few more days. Maybe it would be Eddie with his nerves and his pallor, his shakes and twitches that spoke of a personal vice. Maybe Seph or Syn, neither of whom was anywhere near happy about Eva being in the house. Hell, maybe it'd be Natalya. Doc had seen her break down when she'd learned that people like him even existed, after all. "We're still waiting for some side resources to pan out, maybe offer up a lead or two about how to stop this."

The big German shot a lustful glance at Doc's cigarette, but it was quick enough. He wasn't going to ask. "Good to hear," he murmured into his coffee cup. He knew the emotional environment probably wasn't good for Natalya. She'd been frayed enough lately. But her physical safety outweighed it in his mind. He didn't feel capable of fully defending her while he was compromised this way, and having the help was something he was immensely grateful for. He'd even caught a nap or two throughout the day, something he wouldn't have been able to do otherwise. He didn't exactly know why Doc wasn't joining them, but hadn't really asked questions about that either. His place wasn't one to question.

Doc hadn't missed the little glance over, remembering the few times in the past when Kurt had somewhat haltingly asked him for a smoke. Either his anachronistic perception couldn't justify the absurd price of the things, or he didn't want to make it a regular habit. Either way, Doc knew how a smoke could take the edge off, and was easy in his sideways offering of the pack, his eyes never leaving the yard. "How's the leg healing up?" Doc asked with a puff of smoke, hoping to keep off of topics that could create more strain or worry for the moment. He'd found, in his days as a crew head, that even five minutes of normal interaction with another human being could bleed stress out of one's mind.

Okay, so he didn't ask, but he did take one. He brought out a little plastic lighter from his pocket and fired it up, taking a deep drag before he answered. God, that was good. Cigarettes and coffee and the smell of warm gunmetal. This was like being back home. Even if the tobacco now wasn't nearly what it used to be. "Too slow for my tastes. But cleanly," he said, sipping some more. He relaxed a tiny bit more, what with the extra set of eyes Doc provided. They probably had a while before the next attack anyway. "Natalya has done nothing but nursemaid me and clean the house since the moment you dropped me off. This is almost a relief, in a way," he said with a faint chuckle. He was actually getting to do something.

"Mm," Doc agreed wordlessly, sipping his coffee and smiling faintly. "Normal life is actually sort of stressful, isn't it? All that peace and quiet, just waiting for something to go wrong, and a lot of the time? Nothing does. It's enough to drive a man mad." He chuckled softly, grinding out his cigarette and sitting back. Even more maddening was being forced to the sidelines, but Doc was repeating what he felt the point of it all was like a mantra, a silent echo to keep him cool. "When we have time later, I'll take a look at the joint for you," he offered with a little nod at Kurt's leg, "See if the tendons are shortening or anything. I've had to heal up from some pretty bad hits before, I'll know if there's trouble ahead."

"It would be appreciated," Kurt said genuinely, lingering over his smoke in a much more leisurely fashion. He considered the rest of it as he rolled the cigarette between his fingers, still watching the back yard. "I didn't really have much of one, in my adult years. A normal life, that is. It's always been war or pretending I wasn't on the side I was on, that sort of thing." He took a thoughtful drag, not sounding disappointed by that, or anything, it was just fact. "I don't believe I am adjusting well to it." Kurt exhaled and took another swallow of coffee. He was tired, yes, but he honestly felt more ... centered than he had in quite a while. More himself.

Doc watched him as he spoke, giving the yard odd glances. There was sympathy on his face as he listened to Kurt, he knew where the man was coming from all too well. "If it's any consolation, I understand. Your work was a secret, and the life you had for the rest of the world to see was a paragraph or two you had memorized. I get that." He was thoughtful for a moment, nursing his coffee and wondering just how much to share with Kurt, his sole 'employee'. Truth told, Doc rarely thought of him like that; he was a friend on some level, a partner, not a subordinate no matter how he viewed himself.

"I started doing what I do not long after college," he said somewhat bluntly, "Not on the scale I do now, but it was still that shadow war. I didn't get much of a normal life either, is what I'm saying. And when I did have one? Well, it got dropped on me, no warning. And for while in the beginning, I didn't think it was for me. I wanted what I knew, because it was easier. But I got to a point where, no matter how much better times like this made me feel, I couldn't imagine losing the moments of sanity I had." He was quiet for another moment following the brief speech, crushing out his cigarette on the bottom of a shoe and sitting back. "It doesn't hurt to get a hobby, either, for when the times are slow. I work on cars, some people sculpt or paint, hell... maybe you could take up knitting," Doc joked with a quick wink.

Kurt barked a short laugh at that. "I think I would be an excellent knitter," he said, grinning a bit out at the yard. "I used to ... when I was on a long night of reconnaissance or the like, I used to carve little shapes in paper? It was like ... latticework?" he suggested, glancing over. "I don't know the English word. But I got rather good with a knifepoint. I would have to burn it all at the end of the night, but it kept the mind occupied." He took another lazy drag on his cigarette, nodding a bit to some internal thought. "Your children, are they your's?" he asked after a moment, glancing over with a raised eyebrow. He'd always gotten the impression that the man had been ... well, a man, before he became what he was. He was interested, and Doc didn't seem adverse to sharing some personal insight at the moment.

Doc nodded slightly, smiling with a touch of pride. They'd both stepped up to the challenge the moment it presented itself, forming their own plan before he'd even gotten in touch with them, and through the two days of crisis he'd never had a doubt about how they were handling themselves. "In every sense that matters to me," he answered, nodding more emphatically. "Their mother and I worked together for a long time, she asked me to make sure they'd be okay if things ever went wrong. So, not by blood. But blood's not everything." If they were going by blood relations, Doc had no family. But by his standards? He had all he needed. "I'm an old soldier, you know? Does me good to know the next crop of watchmen is going to come out the way they need to."

So he hadn't fathered them, but they'd ended up his anyway. Kurt made a soft grunted acknowledgement and sipped on his coffee again. Interesting. He'd always thought of having children more than he'd thought of having a wife, in his past fantasies where his life turned out nothing like it really had. He'd always thought that he would keep them as far away from war as possible. But war had had a different meaning back then. "They seem very capable," he added once he'd swallowed. "In the tunnels with us and then the inbetween, there was a girl. Well, there were two, but this one was younger. Fifteen, I'm guessing, at the most. I ran into her again the other day, and called her earlier this afternoon. They are all suffering this themselves. I spent some time attempting to recall when I was that young, and could not very clearly. It concerns me in a very hopeless way that after this ... whatever is going on ... neither will they. But then, we all must survive how we can, yes?" He finished off his cigarette and dropped it to crush under his lowered boot. He picked the butt up and set it to one side afterward.

His expression grew more somber as he listened, nodding slowly at Kurt's words. "None of us gets to stay young for long," he agreed, wrapping both hands around his mug and working it between his fingers. "I think back to when I was a kid, and I remember it pretty well. I wasn't happy very often, I always wanted to know why things were the way they were; random, harsh, unforgiving, punishing good people for being good people. I think... innocence will get you killed. You have to give it up to do what we do. And when you lose it, when you face the world and see what it is, like you have, like those kids did or will do?"

The lines and creases in Doc's face seemed to fade in subtly, trails of concern and grief that he hid so well much of the time, but sometimes couldn't contain. "Have you ever had a wonderful dream, Kurt? Something vivid and substantial, so detailed you're convinced it's real? And then-" he snapped his fingers, "You wake up, and all the details have run together? All you can remember is who was there, and maybe what you did, but not why it felt so vibrant?"

Kurt's eyes had strayed more and more to him while he talked, and he could see the difference settle in. Yes, this was a man that measured up to what he had suspected. A man who knew. "I don't believe I've had a pleasant dream in many many years, but I know what you are referring to, yes," he said, sipping some more on his mug. He'd had plenty of horrific dreams that matched that description, but pleasant ones? Not in many years. "Was that what your realization was like?" He didn't comment on how dangerous having innocence was. It didn't used to be. He was willing to bet that the entirety of the modern world wasn't like this, and the tiredness in Kaysen's voice was lingering in the back of his mind.

"No," Doc said softly, shaking his head, "...yes." He frowned deep, sighing and trying to think about all of it, how to explain it to this man who understood but couldn't understand. "Every time it's different, because it keeps happening. First time, I was just a kid. There were no answers to the questions I had, and that absence of understanding was ugly. The problem was that it didn't last, and I was happy about that at first." Doc's eyes finally left the yard, sliding to Kurt intently in the dim light of the porch. "Think about how you felt when you read of everything that happened to your homeland," he rumbled, deciding that personalizing this would carry the gravity of it, "Then think about your time with Natalya, how you felt in spite of what you've done and seen, how it is the starkest, most polar opposite to that cold, bitter knowledge of the things this world will do to itself. That cycle? Never breaks. You learn the lesson, you find something to hold against it... until you learn the lesson again."

Kurt was silent for what felt like a long time after that. He remembered that day vividly. The first day he'd seen a color television, the first time he'd learned the concept of DVDs, of documentaries. And everything he'd seen, in that grainy footage from his own time. He suddenly quite wanted another cigarette. He held onto his coffee mug and looked out at the yard without much seeing it. "I believe now that it is the times in between the lessons that keep us from becoming monsters," he said quietly. And that seemed to be all he had to add to the subject, because he lapsed into thoughtful silence again.

Doc nodded slowly, managing a small smile for Kurt. "I think you realized that much sooner than most people do," he commended, "The real thing to grab onto, the insight that matters. It's not seeing the world for how harsh it can be, it's not learning that there's beauty and substance amidst the chaos. The world has wonder and horror in equal measures, the trick is holding onto one when the other shows itself. If you have something that means enough to you, something that is the sun in your universe, you get by. At least, that's what I think. Things get bad, I hold my breath and think of the kids, then I wait for the proverbial sun to come up." Doc sat back gradually, pulling another cigarette free of his pack before he let it drop on the arm of his lawn chair. "Still a lot of night left to go, help yourself to the pack," he offered with a knowing look.

The sun in your universe. Kurt wondered idly what Natalya would think if he told her that she was that to him. Likely she wouldn't believe it. She had been so worn down, so ... whittled, in a way, that he doubted she would even really hear him if he tried. Not that that should be much of a discouragement; all he could continue to do was try. He picked up the cigarette pack with a nod of thanks, and pulled one free to light up himself. He didn't share those bits with Doc; more for her own privacy than his. He wasn't here for advice on his woman, after all. He smoked silently and finished off his coffee, setting the mug down near his feet. "Even though the sun does not realize it's a sun," he said after a moment, almost as though he'd decided something with it. She didn't have to know or agree with what she meant to him; the simple fact that he knew it was enough.

"It never does," Doc commented, rising from his chair with a feigned groan of stiffness. It was likely wasted on Kurt, the man had some idea of his potential, but old habits died hard. "Just gives the warmth without asking, provides that contrast to the dark that we need for any of this to matter." He clapped Kurt lightly on the arm in passing, moving for the door to head back inside. "Kurt..." he trailed, lingering with the door half open and aiming a glance back, "Whatever happens tomorrow, a year from now, any of it? I'm glad we work together." He didn't wait for a reply, slipping inside with a thoughtful expression in place as he moved off in search of a refill for his mug.

He'd been looking around as Doc headed back inside, and didn't even attempt to answer. He just smiled a little and watched the other man disappear again. Kurt went back to watching the lawn, bringing the smoke to his lips again. Just gives the warmth without asking. That was his accidentally-found woman in a nutshell, wasn't it? She didn't ask for anything. He had the urge in his chest all of the sudden to get up, go find her, and put his arms around her. But he was on watch, and it would keep. It would definitely keep.