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Characters: Oliver Day (

oliverplus) and OPEN
Location: Your reality!
Time: After Oliver's fairytale has ended, and during or after yours, as you prefer
Summary: Oliver goes on an involuntary reality-hopping tour of the multiverse~
Warnings: Oliver is a geek, and depending on your reality, he might just show it. Possibly a lot.

Tag in if you'd like Oliver to visit you! Prose-style or action tags are fine; just tag in the way you feel like playing.

"Samwise! Don't go under there!"

Oliver had learned a long time ago that "getting lost" and "going somewhere in the TARDIS" were basically synonymous, so he'd long since given up on getting annoyed when it happened. Instead, he usually just looked at it as another adventure to conquer--plus, you never knew what sort of cool things you might find in the meantime. And that was all well and good when he was alone, but this time he'd made the mistake of bringing one of his pets along. Watching a dwarf rabbit run off to be lost in the TARDIS was not the sort of adventure he'd had in mind for today.

He crouched down by the random large machine that was sitting by one of the walls of a room that otherwise appeared to be some sort of study. Aside from the hulking metal contraption, the room was lined with comfortable sofas and armchairs, the lighting coming from lamps on sidetables. Fancy rugs were scattered about on the polished wooden floor, although the area around the machine was bare aside from some telltale scuff marks. And while the space underneath the machine was large enough for a rabbit to fit, Oliver doubted he could even get one of his hands in there. "Come on, come out! I'll get you some nice greens?"

As he leaned down to look under the machine, he just caught sight of a furry ball shooting out and across the room. "Samwise!" He jumped to his feet, realising now that he'd been so intent on the rabbit that he hadn't even thought to close the door to the study when he came in. And, of course, he pet was making straight for it. Oliver ran after him, hoping to grab the door and shut it before Samwise could reach it and disappear into the corridor. It was going to be a close thing. He grabbed at the side of the door--

--and missed. Oliver skidded to a stop, almost falling over in his surprise. Because it was immediately apparent that he hadn't simply missed in his grab--the door wasn't there anymore. The study wasn't either, nor was the familiar hum of the TARDIS.

"What...?" Oliver breathed, looking around him in confusion. "Where am I?"

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He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be having this conversation with Oliver especially. Asch didn't believe that Oliver was innocent to fighting, to the consequences of war. But exposing him to it unnecessarily wouldn't help his cause. He had to acknowledge that he placed some trust in the man-- yes, he was older than Asch by some years-- and while that terrified him in some respects, it was good to have a capable ally on the Plane. That was what Asch told himself, that their friendship was one of business and sometimes complaining, and not much more than that. But Asch had fed him and watched him while Oliver was a child, and he had watched over him yet again when Oliver's life was on the line.

It was much more than that, now. He was protective, and this... this was a mistake.

He sheathed his sword and stepped forward, careful to avoid the dead soldier. "Oliver." Maybe repeating his name would snap him out of it. His gaze was quiet, intense, and commanding as usual. Though he despised physical contact, he didn't have much of a choice in this matter. He reached out to take Oliver by the shoulders. "Look at me."

The physical contact snapped him out of it more than anything. He jerked away, taking several quick steps backwards. "I see you!" he snapped, his horror quickly turning to anger. His mind was screaming for Asch and his bloody hands to stay bloody well away from him. Oliver had just watched him kill in cold blood, and as unbelievable as that was, what was somehow worse was how calm Asch was being about it. Had Oliver really misjudged him that badly?

"What is this?" Oliver demanded, jerking his hand to take in the soldiers around them. "Why!?" The word was much stronger this time--and much angrier.

His hands held only the dead air. Asch kept his stare even and slowly lowered his hands to his sides. Maybe if he was anyone else, he wouldn't feel so damn defensive about being yelled at. He was a soldier, this was what he did for a living. He had killed hundreds of people without even thinking about it, because at the end of the day, they would have killed him the same way.

But coming from Oliver... it began to infuriate him. Oliver had no context, no nothing. Asch didn't style himself as a hero or a good person, but at least his intentions weren't shameful. He was always being singled out as the bad guy, and though he occasionally placed himself in that position out of necessity, it wasn't something he really enjoyed.

He felt the anger rising in his stomach, and his fists tightened. "Don't be stupid! Did you really think that I don't have enemies? I'm a soldier. They were trying to kidnap me and they would've beaten me within an inch of my life if I let them!"

It was a good reason. As good of a reason as one could have, really, though killing was never justified in Oliver's mind. But he was still stunned and confused and angry at what had happened, and now he was angry that Asch was angry, even if Oliver did understand somewhat. "Then say that!" he yelled back. "Just...god, why did it have to be here!?"

If he'd been on the Plane, this was the point at which he would have started to yell his frustration at the sky, but his pride wouldn't have it, nor could he risk it here--particularly if Asch's enemies were nearby. So he turned away instead, starting rather aimlessly to stalk off in a random direction. He wasn't thinking straight; he was just upset and angry. But his feelings for his friend were eating at him, too, struggling against his desire to get away. He stopped, turning back to Asch. "Look...was that all of them? Are you safe here?"

"I don't even know how the hell you got here!" It was the truth. "My business is my own. That's why I don't fight in front of you people." That tone was rather accusatory, and it was something he usually reserved for the replica and his friends. He used it to isolate himself from those around him. "It's not your world, so there's no way you could understand my—the situation." But... that wasn't completely true, was it?

Asch was angry, and that meant the firm hold he usually had on his emotions dwindled to the point where he looked like the fool. But he had to shove that aside. He wasn't about to let Oliver get lost in a pre-wartime world, especially with bandits and soldiers lurking outside the cities. He really cared too much. But he also knew that there would be more than one flaw in his plan if he managed to make enemies on the Plane. The swordsman watched Oliver's back carefully in case he decided to run off after all.

"There's a place not too far from here," he murmured. He didn't really want to talk, but with Oliver suddenly in Auldrant, he didn't have a choice.

Ugh. This whole thing pissed him off.

"Well, it wasn't my choice!" Oliver snapped back, his anger still getting the better of his reactions. "And I might understand if you ever explained it instead of disappearing all the time!"

He stopped himself there, feeling that sense of mixed terror and relief that comes with admitting something that's been bothering you for a while but you didn't think should be said out loud. Oliver winced inwardly as he struggled to get a hold of his own emotions, breathing hard. It was ridiculous for him to be yelling at Asch like this, and he knew it. After all, Asch had been killing out of self-preservation, and Oliver was the one who had appeared in his world without warning. Just because Oliver's emotions were raw from the sight of death didn't give him the right to act like this. But even knowing that logically, it was still a battle to reign in his anger. He stayed where he was for the moment, grimacing as he debated what to do.

But at Asch's mention of a place they could go, he nodded. "Yeah, okay." The words were stiff. He started back toward Asch, trying to keep his expression neutral.

Asch turned and started toward a grassy knoll in the distance. Just as coldly, he responded, "I have better things to do than invite people to interfere." Well, that certainly said a lot about the state of things.

True to his word, the outcropping wasn't too far off; it appeared safe enough, and they could hide easily from prying eyes. The walk was easy, the grass soft, and the atmosphere pleasant. The only thing wrong with this scene was the awkwardness between the two. One would expect two friends to be chatting animatedly or perhaps explaining some of the landmarks, such as the glowing Fonbelt present in the sky.

Asch offered nothing except his sturdy back and an ever-present hand on his sword.

Oliver scowled at Asch's response. "Yeah, I see that!" he retorted, his temper insisting on getting one more jab in. He was too mad to say what he was really feeling--how concerned he'd been about Asch because of the way the other man stormed off every time they talked. And how worried he was now, after seeing what he'd seen. It looked like there was more at work here than anyone should have to handle by themselves, and Asch wasn't letting him help, which frustrated Oliver to no end.

But he followed Asch instead of speaking up, even his curiosity about the world dimmed by the tension between them. He did keep a watchful eye out, though, both to take in the world around them and to hopefully catch sight of any more of those soldiers if they appeared. For Oliver, the atmosphere of this place felt heavy with the danger of the situation, and not in the way he was used to, with the Doctor close at hand making light of it. It was disturbing, to say the least. He was on edge.

As they walked, he wanted more and more to ask Asch for details. It felt like he was afraid of shadows--and shadows he didn't understand, at that. Just what was going on here? Why was Asch in danger, and what could be done about it? But he kept the questions to himself, partially because he didn't want to catch any unwanted local attention by talking but also because he was still fuming too much to be willing to show his worry. Asch was his friend! Oliver couldn't believe how he was acting right now--even though Oliver's own behaviour wasn't exactly better.

There wasn't anything Oliver could do to help. He wasn't a part of this world, and even if he was, he lacked the skills needed to defend himself-- let alone gather information for Asch. The soldier had decided a long time ago that Oliver was better-suited to the Plane. He knew when to take cover there, and he knew when to interview and collect data. He was, overall, very effective at dealing with the goings-on. Asch liked that. He liked that at least one person would humor his questions and give him information without too much of a struggle. And he liked that Oliver listene, when Asch needed him to.

Even though they were fighting, Asch knew Oliver could still perform what was asked of him. He would try to explain things a little more when they had shelter-- which was, thankfully, nearby.

He deserved at least that.

Asch led Oliver around the hill-- which was really more like a small cliff-- to a relatively flat, bare spot. It was comfortable for being outside. There were rocks and logs to sit on, and signs that someone had made many campfires here. It hid them from the wind, and by extension, the plains.

"Sit." Not much of an invitation, but this was Asch. He took a seat on a rock, unbuckled a pack from his waist, and neatly spread the contents: cooking utensils, small bags of dried and salted food, a half loaf of bread, assorted spices. He also carried some cheese and butter in separate oiled cloths.

Oliver followed Asch in silence, his emotions about the situation still tumultuous. But he was relieved to arrive at the sheltered area; it made him feel a little better to see that Asch probably was safe here. It looked protected and convenient enough, at least.

At Asch's instruction, he sighed inwardly, fending off the unreasonable desire to be annoyed at that, too. After all, he knew well enough that Asch was like that. So he sat on another rock, watching Asch spread out food in front of them, and trying to come up with some way to fill the silence that wouldn't just get him snapped at. Unfortunately, nothing was coming to mind.

If Asch noticed that his company was awkward, he did nothing to alleviate it on his end. He wasn't the type to hum while working, preferring instead to harbor a near-sacred silence. He sliced the bread with a small paring knife, buttered each side, and began to assemble a couple of thick sandwiches from leftover cold cuts, sweet lettuce and herb, and cheese. It didn't take much time or effort. The trick was to do the cooking ahead of time and gather ingredients along the way. Cleanup was also quick and simple. Somehow everything fit into the bag from whence it came, though the fonic glyph scrawled across the back probably had something to do with it.

Chores taken care of, there were two sandwiches that needed to be eaten. Asch didn't invade Oliver's personal space or shove it at his face like an idiot; instead the sandwich sat patiently in his hand, while Asch himself wore a mildly uncomfortable expression. "... Just eat what you can." After seeing his first human kill, he remembered losing his appetite for a week. But people who fought to survive couldn't afford to have delicate stomachs.

The silence was less sacred and more oppressive in Oliver's opinion. He watched Asch curiously, struggling to distract himself from his own thoughts. The cooking was simple, mechanical--not so much interesting as a rhythm that he could focus his thoughts on if he wanted to. Oliver was surprised by the bag at least, although he was no stranger to things--including pockets--that were bigger on the inside. He just hadn't expected to see that technology here.

He considered telling Asch that he didn't want a sandwich at all. For one, he definitely had nothing even resembling an appetite at the moment. But on top of that, he didn't want to take Asch's food, particularly if Asch wasn't in friendly territory. Seeing that Asch was waiting for him to take the sandwich, though, it seemed he didn't have a choice. He accepted it, politely taking a tiny bite. Unfortunately, the taste of food reminded his stomach of what he'd seen, and he had to force himself to swallow. The bread felt like a thick lump in his throat. He lowered his hands, holding the sandwich in his lap for now.

"I...I'm jumping between worlds," he said, his voice quiet and uncertain. He looked at his lap rather than at Asch. The comment was more an excuse to break the silence than to avoid eating. For some reason, while watching Asch cook for him, his anger had been dissipating rather than growing. Maybe it had something to do with the memories that it evoked--those of a seven-year-old who felt safe and cared for. In any case, Oliver didn't want the tension to continue. "I'll probably disappear soon." He meant it as a comfort, but the words rung uncertainly in the air. He didn't know what he was doing at all. Why was it always so hard with Asch?

Asch took a seat again, giving his guest (and himself) plenty of space. This meeting was terribly awkward, even tragic in a way. But he refused to acknowledge what was written plainly before him, refused to change himself to suit the situation. No. He would change the situation to suit him, or at least as much as he could.

In time, the words "I'll probably disappear soon" would carry special meaning, but Asch had no idea of the implications on his own future. "Probably," he answered, picking at his own food. "But you don't know exactly how long it will be. We'll camp here until then."

Unless...

"Has anyone tried forcefully dragging you back to the Plane?" He should have thought of that before, but they were in the middle of an emergency situation.

"Yeah, okay," Oliver said. He let his eyes wander over the campsite and its surroundings, mostly as a continued excuse not to meet Asch's gaze. While Asch ate, Oliver's own sandwich stayed where he'd set it down.

At Asch's idea, however, he did look up, surprised. Why hadn't he thought of that before? Really, why hadn't Christine or one of the others thought of it? Oliver shook his head. "No. I've just tried to go back myself."

He closed his eyes and thought of the Plane again, partially to demonstrate and partially just in case it actually worked this time. It didn't.

Most of the people Oliver ran into were probably not opposed to his presence. Asch knew this place was dangerous, however, and the last thing he wanted was to make things more complicated by having an off-worlder rampant in his reality. That was why he refused to let Oliver deal with this alone, why Asch stayed at his side even if neither of them felt agreeable after that fight.

It wouldn't matter in the end. Why get upset over it? Why should he allow anyone to get under his skin and find out how tentative his grip on the situation really was?

He wrapped up his sandwich and set it aside for later. "We can try."

Edited 2011-08-20 06:22 (UTC)

Oliver nodded. "Thanks," he said, though it was still a somewhat strained and uncertain response. He stood, assuming Asch would do the same but knowing that the other man would want to be allowed to take the lead. While he was still upset with Asch, he didn't want to fight anymore. There was nowhere to go, it was too quiet, Asch was protecting him, and...the whole thing just made him too tired. He was starting to feel as ready for it to be over as he knew his reluctant companion was.

"Don't thank me. It's just common sense."

Asch was tired, too. He was so tired of running, tired of waiting, tired of keeping secrets. But the truth would destroy everything, and so he continued to hide whatever he could. He was no magician; he couldn't make the truth disappear forever, and it would soon come back to bite him. He knew it would.

He pushed those thoughts aside and stood up as Oliver did. He hesitated, then offered his hand for Oliver to take. His eyes didn't move from the older man's face.

"Come on."

"Still, thanks," Oliver said--less hesitantly and more insistently this time. Looking into Asch's eyes, he could feel all of his uncertainty and fear and...regret? For an instant, Oliver hesitated. Maybe he shouldn't go yet. He wouldn't be able to do anything for Asch if he did!

But one thing Asch's expression told him, even without the empathy, was that he didn't want Oliver's "help"--not here. If anything, Oliver's presence was holding him back from whatever it was he wanted to be doing. No, Oliver knew it would be best for Asch if he did leave. And with that in mind, he reached out and took his hand. "Be careful." The statement had nothing to do with the trip to the Plane that they were about to attempt, but Oliver had a feeling Asch would know that.

As he waited, he didn't let his gaze move from Asch's either.

It was a sign of trust. He knew Oliver's secret and yet permitted him a rare window of opportunity to see into Asch's head, or at least his heart. Trust went both ways, after all. Oliver was dependable, and Asch was sort of returning the favor. Or trying. Having to watch out for other people was annoying. If Oliver actually had something to contribute to his plan, Asch might have told him some details... or not.

Now wasn't the time, regardless. "Don't get killed," he returned, then took that mental step needed to jump to the Plane.

Oliver didn't have a chance to reply before Asch went to the Plane. And it was only Asch who left--in fact, Oliver saw him disappear. But something did happen to Oliver as well. Most likely Asch's attempt to pull him to the Plane had set it in motion, though he didn't know that for sure, but suddenly he wasn't just seeing the clearing anymore. Like the last times he had moved between worlds, he was seeing double now--both the outcropping and some sort of town.

"Asch?" Oliver called. He had been through this on several worlds already, so he knew he was going to be leaving in minutes no matter what. And while it might have been easiest to do so without having to say anything more to Asch, he couldn't help wanting to at least say good-bye to his friend. He may have still been upset about the killing, but...he found that the time they'd spent together and Asch's explanation had at least taken care of his anger. He didn't want to just disappear without a word.

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