I Would Change My Ways; No, Never Mind [John]

[L.C. Milliner]

[[OOC: Retconed slightly, due to my trip. This thread’s starting date is July 1st]]

*--outfit

One foot in front of the other. That’s all it took. Step by step, a simple walk could turn into a journey, which would turn into a quest, than an epic. Countries and continents could be crossed. Rivers could be forded, abandoned roadways explored, mountains climbed. With the right map in hand, a person could chart a path anywhere they so desired. All one needed was a little faith.

L.C. wasn’t one for praying, she was one for action. But she woke up on the recycled couch in her flat that morning with her eyes to the ceiling and she couldn’t help but mutter a quick plea to God. “I have to help my friend. Please help me.” She wasn’t one for elaborate flatteries or obscure, roundabout questions. Even when it came down to talking with the almighty, she was to the point. “I need you.” She needed him before, and she turned out fine. When she told him she needed him last, he brought her to Hammel. Now she needed him again, to bring her back to the place she thought she would never go again. A lump of bile rose in her throat; she swallowed it and stood. “Amen.”

It was five thirty in the morning when she left her flat, bag over her shoulder. She had packed only the essentials. There wasn’t even an extra set of clothes. She had sunscreen, duct tape, money, and a road map. She would get on the road and steal a jar of peanut butter from a store for her meals. No one would miss it. Every detail was meticulously planned in her head as she started out of Pilot Ridge, walking quickly, but not so quick as to tire her. The blonde had a long way to go and not a lot of time to get there. She hadn’t even brought Zac’s phone- she didn’t think about it and there was no time to explain why. She didn’t even tell him she was gone for the weekend. Kali only knew that she couldn’t work because an ‘emergency’ had come up, and her boss hadn’t questioned her. She had a green light.

All systems were a go. Next stop: Landover, Maryland.

After Amelia called, the first thing L.C. did was pilfer a road map and picked the best route to her location, going over it so much that it was now burned into her mind’s eye. She had to get to the I-87. Once she got there, it was close to a straight shot. She had three days to get there. Getting back would be easier- The money was to to get a bus ride as far at as they could go. If she didn’t have enough, they would walk back; hopefully the heat index wouldn’t be too high.

She was on the outskirts of Pilot Ridge with her map in hand when she heard a car in the distance, coming from behind her. She paused for a moment before reminding herself that she needed a ride. She had hitchhiked before when she was younger, and now she was older and had a lot of spikes to keep her safe. Her rule about accepting rides from truck drivers would stay in place, but otherwise she’d pick up a ride from anyone. Besides, in theory, the lazy-good-for-nothings wouldn’t even be awake yet.

L.C. stuck out her thumb and adjusted her hat, walking backwards so the occupant could see her better. She couldn’t see in, of course; it was still dark outside and she wasn’t really looking. She had too much on her mind.

[John Thornton]

The early bird catches the worm. John’s mother had been fond of that saying, and Thornton doubted there’d been a day in his living memory where he’d slept past 9 am. Besides, he liked arriving at Hammel early, when it was still quiet and the students hadn’t emerged to cause havoc. He’d taken to feeding the pidgins, and had found out quite quickly that the birds cleared out as soon as the students started showing up (smarter then they were given credit for, those birds) so turning up early served multiple purposes.

There was also no traffic.

Ah, efficiency.

Driving on the wrong side of the road (well, for him anyway) he still needed to concentrate on the road, and so the long girl walking along it was hard to miss. Frowning, he slowed down slightly to see if she needed help when she stuck her thumb out, and he saw her face.

Oh for the love of...

The car slowed, then stopped along side her, and the window rolled down. John’s expression was thunderous. ”What do you think you’re doing?” he snapped, the opened the door and got out, using his hight to look down at his graduated student. Hitchhiking was hugely dangerous, what was she thinking! ”Of all the idiotic, ignorant things to do. Lyra, explain yourself!”

[L.C. Milliner]

Upon closer inspection L.C. noted that the car seemed a bit small and was a muted gray color. Not a shining silver like most cars, but a sensible gray. She felt like she had seen the car before, and something nagged her in the back of her head. She let it go as it stopped, thankful to have a ride for the time being. “Hi, I need to get-” When she saw the occupant of the car, she stopped mid-sentence and felt her face blanch, all the blood running out of it as she stared into the stern face of John Thornton.

Well, shit.

She backed away from the car as far as she could without stumbling, her expression one of terror and disbelief. Of all the people in the world that had to be driving at this hour, why was he on the road? She swallowed air as her throat went dry, and for a moment she thought she was going to throw up from the sheer amount of panic she was feeling. She had to get to Maryland, but she couldn’t tell John that- he wouldn’t understand the importance of it. She needed to rescue her friend. He’d probably just suggest calling the police, but carnivals didn’t work like that- calling the police was all but an act of suicide. The generations of distrust that ran like a river between carnies and policemen was a river the was best left untouched in every way.

So when he demanded an explanation, she couldn’t find one to give. She only stood there staring blankly at him. Maybe if she didn’t move or say anything, he would go away. But what if he didn’t? She was wasting precious time! She needed to be moving, not standing there like an idiot child! Every second she spent standing there brought Amelia closer to a sure and certain death, she could feel it. L.C. could feel the hoop hanging over her head, looming, waiting.

So all she could do was shake her head at him, close her eyes, and walk off, determined to keep her eyes on the ground. She didn’t owe him anything, she reasoned. He wasn’t the boss of her anymore- she wasn’t his student now. She had passed her training and had graduated. What she did with her life was her own choice now, not his.

[John Thornton]

Lyra, do not walk away from me when I am talking to you," John snapped, and put a hand on the girl young woman's shoulder to stop her. One of the many things that they had learnt about each other while he had been her trainer was that Lyra was used to people letting her walk away because she would use her powers to intimidate them.

Well that wouldn't work with him. He wasn't even wearing one of his good shirts today.

The englishman kept one hand on her shoulder, and rubbed at the bridge of his nose with the other. He technically had no say over what she could do but damn it he still felt some sense of moral obligation to protest at her putting herself in harms way so blatantly. "Is there a reason you can't take a bus, or get a lift?" he asked, the fury draining slightly (slightly, mind) from his voice. "Not to mention having to leave so early."

A thought occurred to him and he bent slightly to look her over with concern. "Are you in trouble? Is something wrong?" It wasn't like she needed to run away from home; she lived by herself, had her own space, had a job.... What on earth could have pushed her to this early morning jaunt.

[L.C. Milliner]

A hand on her shoulder stopped her from walking, and L.C. flinched, both at his grip and the use of her name. She didn’t flinch when Amelia used it, but Milly was her best friend; she could call her anything and she wouldn’t care. This revelation made getting to her seem even more important, though she couldn’t understand why. It seemed like everything she did, from making coffee that Amelia would die for to picking up a couch from the curb Amelia would hate, it all had an impact on her, no matter how insignificant it seemed. Now that she was on the road, with every step she took coming that much closer, Amelia- her voice, the way she cried on the phone, how she had actually accepted her apology- was the only thing on her mind.

Trying to find an answer from John was hard- she didn’t want to tell him she didn’t have enough money, for fear he would try to give her some. Even though she stole things, she didn’t like owing money to people; at least, not large sums of it. A five was okay here or there, but not a fifty, or a hundred. The sheer amount of money this trip would cost in gas alone was enough to make her shy away from a rental car. (Granted, she couldn’t rent one anyway. She had looked into it and swore profusely into the phone when the person on the other line told her she had to be 21.) She decided that, again, silence was the best answer.

From the corner of her eye John made another appearance, his face awash with concern. At least, she thought it was concern. John had a tendency not to show emotion, so she hadn’t seen the entire spectrum enough to know offhand what each subtle change in his permanent scowl meant. Asking her if she was in trouble made her want to laugh for a split second- when was she not in trouble, after all- but his next question made her blanch even more, her face totally drained of all color. She looked, to put it bluntly, like a corpse. “No.” She whispered, shaking her head. “Nothing’s wrong.”

That was a lie. That was an outright, blatant lie. It wasn’t even a good one, because it was obvious from the way she said it that there was obviously something troubling her. She didn’t want to lie to John; he was her trainer, her teacher. He and Sean were the only two adults in the whole world who gave a shit about her, and John was the only one not up to his neck in issues she wasn’t privy to. Now that she was on the road, she needed all the help she could get, and she knew that. But some iota of stubbornness was telling her she had to do this on her own, just like everything else in her life.

Biting her lip, L.C. cast her face to the ground. She didn’t want to look at him, and she didn’t want him to see her. Not now.

[John Thornton]

John was frowning, but at Lyra's first words the frown became one of surprise. Yes, he had many frowns. He knew a lie when he heard one so blazingly obvious, but to his knowledge, Lyra had never lied to him before. She had avoided answering, or simply told him to mind his business, and there may have been a white lie or two when he'd asked why she was late but nothing like this.

He was surprised, and surprised at how surprised he was. "You're lying," he said, almost to himself, then repeated, louder as anger deepened his pitch. "You're lying, Lyra." He let go of her shoulder before he could clench his hand on her shoulder and took a deep breath through his nose. "Alright," he said slowly, his jaw set, "you don't need to tell me, of course. But I am going to take you home."

Taking her wrist, he tugged slightly. Not roughly, but a very clear you need to come this way gesture. "I'll take you back to your apartment, and you can rethink this and ponder on whether a nineteen year old girl should really be out, this early, alone, and clearly distressed, and exactly what you plan on achieving."

It was like talking to a child, but not at all. She could at least look at him, at least give him some chance to help her.

She could have at least not lied to him.

[L.C. Milliner]

L.C.’s flinching at her name only intensified as he called her bluff and a subconscious trigger, burned into her brain, made her raise her hands up to her ears as if to block out the sound. “Don’t call me that.” She muttered, feeling like a child at the carnival all of again. Her hands only made it up as far as her head before they stopped. She glanced at them and realized she was shaking- not violently, mind you, but noticeably so. It scared her and she tried to make herself stop, but her hands kept on shaking like an alcoholic’s. She bit her lip and tried to look away from him again, opting to look up instead. The sky was growing lighter, she realized. She had to get back on the road.

Missing his statement about taking her home entirely, L.C. was surprised when she realized John’s hand was on her wrist, pulling her to the car. Her head was swimming and for a moment she didn’t understand- was he really giving her a ride? No, that wasn’t right. Untangling her thoughts and pushed them aside, L.C. stared at his mouth, finally processing the words coming out of it. He was taking her home, to her apartment. He wasn’t taking her to Maryland, or even just a few steps down the road. Every cell of her being seemed to freeze and she was stuck in place for a moment. For a mere second, everything was silent and it seemed in slow motion- the birds in the trees, the breeze rustling the leaves, all of it fell silent in her mind.

Then everything was pointed back at her skull and amplified. Her emotions- exhaustion, stress, anger, guilt, distrust, panic, dread, anxiety and, most of all, the overwhelming amount of FEAR she had about her journey, the carnival, Amelia, and her mother- all of it washed over her and swept her up. All she could do for a second was stand there and anticipate the wave, feeling it build, and then it unleashed, and she all but exploded.

“I CAN’T! She shrieked, pulling her wrist from his grip and taking two steps backward, staying out of his reach. “I have to go to Maryland and help Amelia, or she’s going to die and it’s going to be all my fault because I ran away without her, and she got put into the aerial hoops, and they aren't up to safety standard still, and...” She took a couple breaths, feeling her breathing growing shorter, but kept pressing on before he had time to interject. “And if I don’t go get her she’s going to end up hurt, or dead, and I can’t call the police because that won’t help, it’ll only make everything worse, and I can’t keep running away and I have to go help her because I promised her, and the last promise I made I broke, and I can’t let it happen again, and, and, and...”

It was then that she finally broke out into tears, sobs wracking her as she finally just let go. She was broken, all her steely resolve vanishing like a puff of smoke. Her knees gave out from under her and she crumpled to the asphalt, heaving as she made herself sick. She kept her eyes on the ground, even as she sobbed, because she couldn’t bear to look at John’s face. No one had ever seen her like this before, never. She hadn’t cried like this since the day Magda died- not even when her mother kicked her out of the house.

“I need help.” She whispered, biting her lip as she dissolved into another fit of sobbing. She pressed her hands to her face and she shook from her shoulders to her feet, shivering even though the day was warm. The birds had stopped singing in the trees, and all that could be heard was L.C.’s sobbing and the breeze in the leaves, not to mention John’s motor still running, the only way she knew he was still there.

L.C. never asked for help, not from anyone- she had asked Sean for sleeping pills, and took things from Zac to help her, but whenever she was in a predicament, or over her head, she found that she could never find a person to count on. God only took her so far, and she asked him more for personal strength then for signs or physical help. But now she realized she couldn’t do it alone. Her trip was too long, her method was too outdated. John was right, what she was doing was reckless. She choked back another sob and lifted her face to peer through her fingers at him, swallowing a glob of snot that had run down the back of her throat.

“Help me. Please.” Because he was the only person in the world she trusted enough to ask without already knowing he was going to let her down.

[John Thornton]

From no words to a deluge of them. "Lyra, Lyra, slow down," he tried to cut in as he caught words like 'Maryland' and 'arial hoops' and it didn't make any sense. He told her so, but she wasn't listening as the rants continued.

They didn't stop until there was a sudden rush of tears and his former student fell to her knees on the side of the road. "Oh Lyra," he said softly, moving to take a step forward but pulling himself up short. Was he supposed to comfort her? How on earth was he supposed to comfort her? Beginning to crouch down awkwardly beside the sobbing girl he frowned and looked to the left in confusion. If he'd ever felt ignorant, or aware of his own emotional shortcomings it was now. And he had honestly thought he could be a father.

He'd been an idiot.

What was he supposed to do?

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, even as he shrugged off his coat and draped it over the shivering girl's shoulders. "Lyra, come sit in the car. Take a deep breath, try to sort out what you need to tell me, then speak." He grasped her wrists and pulled the short woman to her feet, then tried to guide her to the car.

He'd never seen her cry. She didn't strike him as the sort to weep over every little thing as his sister was prone to. "It's going to be alright," he said slowly, then rubbed a hand over his face as he took a deep breath. "I'll help."

He had stopped scowling several minutes ago... his face felt overly relaxed without it.

[L.C. Milliner]

Crying was something L.C. left to lesser or weaker people. In the face of adversity she remained strong and defiant, refusing to back off. If she had to go down in a flurry of spikes and blood, so be it, but she would never walk away from a promise, especially a promise as important as this. She could avoid an issue like her nightmares or her name all day, but when it came to something this important, running away simply wasn’t an option she looked at. Even now, she was trying (in vain) to stop bawling and get up, but her legs felt like lead underneath her. She sniffed and wiped her nose on her hand, leaving a steak of snot down the back of her forearm. She wiped it off on her shorts and tried to take deep breaths, resulting only in a shuddering excuse for respiration.

John put his coat over her shoulders and she tried to say ‘thank you’, but no words would come out. Her throat was clogged with snot, but it still felt too dry. She let him pull her up and she stumbled to the car, pulling open the passenger door wearily before falling into the seat. It was a nice car, she’d give him that. It was spotless, just like him. If John was ever a car, he’d be this one, for certain. She took some more breaths, resting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands, sliding her fingers through her hair as her palms pressed to her temples. He promised to help- that cheered her, only slightly. At least now she could think.

After a few tense and silent minutes, L.C. finally got a grip on herself and pulled her legs into the car, still leaving the door open as an easy escape in case he went back on his word. “My friend Amelia.” She started, almost choking on her friend’s name again before getting ahold of herself. “She and I grew up together. We both lived at the carnival. Her Father, he was the tightrope walker, and my Mother...” Drifting off again, she bit her lip and skipped over that completely. “I used to work aerial hoops, and I hated it. It’s very dangerous, because the hoops, they’re made of metal but they’re flimsy, so you have to be small, and you have to have a low weight. I fell of once, and broke my arm.” She touched her left arm as an indication of which one. “But Amelia and I, when we were little, we promised we would run away. Together.”

Tears started forming in her eyes again, and L.C. wiped them away with the heels of her hands, furious at herself for letting herself cry. “My Mother, she kicked me out when my power first showed up. She started yelling, and... We... I just ran. Took off. I was so scared. I, I forgot Amelia.” That was the worst part of it- realizing she had forgotten her best friend and had to leave her behind. “And I guess they must’ve talked her into the hoops after I left, and she started doing them even though she knows how dangerous they are. And she didn’t know why I left her behind, she just knew I ran away. So then she finally found out where I was, and sent me a letter, asking for me to help her.”

Her friend had found one of the numerous letters her mother had been sent from Hammel- the woman knew where she was the whole time, of course. She sent L.C. cards on occasion- that was how she and John met. They were always filled with condescending messages on the inside; ‘Hope you aren’t missing me too much, because the feeling would be mutual!’ ‘Take care when playing in traffic!’ ‘I miss you terribly. Happy opposite day!’ (Yes, she really was that petty, another secret L.C. kept well hidden.) She always got the carnival people to sign it too, or so she thought. Her Mother was a master at feigning signatures after all, it was probably all a ruse.

“I have to help her, John. She’s, she’s my best friend. She needs me.”

[John Thornton]

She was in the car, that was a start. Right, Thornton ran a hand through his hair and grimaced at his steering wheel. As Lyra started to talk, John looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She’d been in the circus? That was unexpected, and yet made a lot of sense at the same time. He didn’t speak; she clearly had a lot to say and he knew that any questions he might have,

who was he trying to fool he had too many questions to count,

but any question he might have, she may answer them and so his lips remained pressed together. Even Thornton’s excessive levels of self restraint could not keep a thunderous frown from clouding his face as he heard the full story. Forced out of her house? Forcing a child to risk her life in some sort of circus show?

It almost justified her trying to skewer him when he’d first met her.

Finally, she stopped and resting his elbows on his steering wheel Thornton rested his forehead on his fingertips. ”Lyra,” he said slowly, as his rather ridged mind tried to bend around the concepts of arial hoops and running away from the circus (which wasn’t what Enid Blighton had taught him at all), ”what did you plan on doing when you got there, by yourself, without any money?”

But that wasn’t important, at least not to her. God, what am I doing? Even as he opened his mouth, Thornton felt his logic rebel against what he was about to do. He never disregarded his logic... but she wasn’t his student to order and instruct anymore. And she was crying. Didn’t women know what effect that had on people?

”Alright,” he said finally, rubbing a hand over his face, ”I don’t know the roads so you’ll have to direct me. I hope it isn’t a long drive, all I have in the car is stale bread.”

The pidgins would be going hungry this morning, it seemed.

[L.C. Milliner]

If there was anything L.C. didn’t want, it was John’s pity. She lived in Hammel for five years without asking for pity, so she wasn’t about to start now that she finally made her way out. So she had lived in a carnival and been through a lot of bad things; that didn’t mean anything to her in the long run. Nothing good ever came out of getting pitied, in her opinion. People just looked at you and said ‘oh, what a shame’ but they never tried to be friends with you or help you out when you were in trouble. They tended to just feel sorry for you and then leave you alone. True, she didn’t have a lot of friends in high school anyway, but that was by choice.

At the mention of her name again, L.C. gave John another glare, but didn’t say anything, opting instead to comment on his assumption she didn’t have any money. “I have money. A little.” Seventy three dollars and twenty seven cents sounded like a lot of money in theory, but in practice it probably wouldn’t amount to much. “I was going to see if I could get us bus tickets back.” Everything else could be solved through stealing, as always. She hated falling back on old habits, but for Amelia’s sake she had to make a few sacrifices- integrity sells for so little anyway, what was the point of keeping it?

Both of them stewed in their conflicting emotions for a moment, silence falling over them. L.C. was torn between guilt and giving up, having come to the realization that, even though she would never admit it, she was wrong and John was right, as usual. Even with her spikes to protect her, her plan was dangerous and far from failsafe. Her trying to hitchhike down to Maryland was like trying to cross the Atlantic in a lifeboat; possible, even probable, but not at all practical.

She’d have to call Amelia when he took her home and tell her she’d mail her some money and apologize for not being able to go. She hoped that her friend wouldn’t be too upset...

Wait.

“What.” Shifting her attention back to John, L.C. listened to his statement and paused, mouthing the words he just uttered as the gears in her head began to turn again. He wanted to drive her to Maryland. He was going to defy all logic and help her, even though he had no idea what he was getting into. She couldn’t help but look in the backseat for the loaf of bread, noting it before raising an eyebrow. She wasn’t going to ask what it was for, she opted instead to pull out her map. “Right. Uhm. We need to get to the 22-A.” Unfolding her map, she pointed to her route, tracing the line down the side of Vermont.

After pointing that out, she finally looked back up at John, biting her lip as she tilted her head to the side slightly. “You’re really going to do this?” She couldn’t imagine why- she was just his student, and even then she had only been under his tutelage for three months. He didn’t have to do this for her.

[John Thornton]

Glancing at the map, Thornton nodded once and twisted the key in the ignition. The little car hummed into life, and ignoring the rather amazed looks Lyra was giving him, the englishman changed to first gear and pressed down on the acceleration. It was a bit of a drive, but nothing that would require finding a cheap motel to sleep in thank god. He'd heard far too many stories about those places.

"If I don't," he reasoned, eyes now fixed on the unfamiliar roads, "You'll let me take you back to your apartment, and then you'll cook up some other plan that's equally, if not more, foolhardy. This way, I won't have to worry about you. It will give me peace of mind. Just don't get us lost."

Because maybe he didn't owe her anything, but like it or not, Lyra was the first person he'd really met at Hammel. Despite the fact that she had frequently driven him into frustration with her smart alec answers and her stubbornness, against his better judgement he couldn't help but like her. And a gentleman did not let a girl (because she was a girl, even if she thought she wasn't) try to hitch hike her way to the circus in some plot to rescue a friend from the dangers of arial acrobatics.

Besides, she'd been crying. Like that had left him any other choice. Any true man was left helpless at a female's tears. They were intolerable.

"Have you eaten breakfast?" he asked after a few minutes of silence. "Or did you miss that in your rush?" and yes, his tone was condescending and the look he shot her was one of parental superiority, but it was the most important meal of the day.