Work Text:
You know the funniest thing? All I drank in London was cider – they have this really strong stuff that’s like alcoholic apple juice. My colleagues called it crazy juice. Gx
He blinks. His mouth runs dry. Anders scratches his blunt fingernails through his beard, his phone lying innocuously on his kitchen counter, where he’d left it as he poured himself a cup of coffee. Suddenly, he can hear his heartbeat, loud and frantic, and his neck hurts.
whys that funny
He is Anders now, and only Anders. He walks with a lighter step, he doesn’t go out drinking half as much, he puts in extra hours at work because he’s sure as hell not losing Dawn when he’s lost almost everything else. He is thirty one and old before his time. He is thirty one and reborn.
Strange, really, that it seems so weird to lose Bragi, when they only had ten years together.
I fucking hate apples, that’s why. Gx
And he finds himself grinning at the phone like a nut.
tough shit. bet ur happy to lose her then
They barely spoke, before. He probably said more to her when she was just the girl his little brother was always hopelessly crushing on like a swooning maiden; had actual conversations with “Axl’s drippy girlfriend” that didn’t revolve around how good it felt to be inside of her, how soft her skin was against his lips, how much he fucking hated himself for doing it.
I bought some apple tea at Four Square. Gx
Anders smiles again, before her words hit –
– she’s back, Gaia’s back and what the fuck is he supposed to do?
– And the bottom falls out of his stomach.
It was only ever Bragi and Idun. They were only ever Bragi and Idun. But no one would ever give him a fucking break. The craving isn’t there anymore; his palms don’t sweat and he doesn’t bite through the inside of his cheek until blood fills his mouth – blood that tastes strangely like apples – but something remains.
He thinks of that awful moment, flying through the air, the crash into that pile of construction. Pain numbed because look what you did Anders you fucking ruined every fucking –
The fear in Mike’s eyes when he went to see if he was ok.
That’s what Anders remembers most, he thinks. He doesn’t remember bleeding out, he barely remembers falling, Ty’s giggle will always make him smile. But him and Mike have orbited around each other for ten years – he was shit scared when it looked like Mike would sacrifice himself for Axl’s happiness; Mike was just as scared when Anders was bleeding out, again because of Axl.
But he’s getting ahead of himself, losing track.
Gaia is back.
The phone on the counter buzzes again, clatters against the china of his mug.
Would you like to have some apple tea with me sometime? Gx
---
It’s at a party Axl throws, one to celebrate that “everything’s normal now”, even though it’s not.
When she returned to New Zealand, three weeks after she’d woken up and no one in St Helier knew who she was, there was no doubt as to what Axl expected. And she’d shied away, because she’s not just Gaia anymore, even though she’s no longer Gaia-and-Idun. She’s – someone else.
But she goes to the party anyway.
“So you’re Axl’s girlfriend?” Zeb asks, keys in his hand. He’s only here to drop Axl off, because Zeb’s always been wonderful. “How did you two meet?”
You introduced us, she thinks.
“He’s not my boyfriend,” she says, “It’s… complicated.”
She doesn’t miss the flash of relief across Zeb’s face – interesting. But then Anders and Michele enter, and she’s more interested in other things.
He looks at her, once, eyes flashing around the room, but his gaze doesn’t still. It makes her feel – annoyed, actually. He didn’t respond to her texts, he doesn’t even say hello. Something happened, whether or not they wanted it, and they can’t wish it away.
Instead, Gaia takes a drink from Stacey – who winks and smiles, and at least that’s not changed – and settles down on the sofa.
Ten minutes, and halfway through her glass of wine, the seat opposite her is taken by a blonde woman who looks vaguely familiar. Gaia is suddenly struck by the need to down the rest of her glass in one. “You must be Frigg.”
Frigg winces slightly, “Hanna.”
“I’m Gaia.” I should have been you is on the tip of her tongue, but she’s not drunk enough to say it. She’s not drunk at all, and God, how she wishes she was. It would be so much easier. This party was a mistake, because it’s not all ok and – and no one thinks that.
Who are they all kidding?
“I texted you,” she says, three glasses of wine later. Anders is sat on the porch, a cigarette burning out between his fingers. “I asked you for tea, and you didn’t respond. That’s pretty rude.”
---
Gaia is beautiful now, not the awkward bird-bones of a girl trying to grow into her womanhood, but a young and independent woman. She has brushed red through the gold in her hair, she doesn’t wear cardigans anymore.
“You’re drunk,” but he shifts across so she can sit next to him anyway. She stumbles as she goes to cross her legs, and his arm shoots out automatically to catch her. “Careful!”
“Fucking shoes,” she growls. She’s got silver heels on; standing up, she’d probably be taller than him. She reaches down and undoes the buckles, kicks them off so she’s barefoot. “And ‘m not – that drunk, anyway.”
She bumps her shoulder against his. He pushes back gently.
“You probably shouldn’t be out here alone with me.” It’s a joke, but it falls flat, because Anders knows just what will happen to him if Axl finds them.
And yet, whilst his neck throbs and burns with remembered pain, he can’t bring himself to care.
“Had to drink,” Gaia keeps on as though he hasn’t spoken. “You’re avoiding me.”
“They’ve gone,” he informs her, even as his hand reaches out – as though it doesn’t belong to him, as though it’s still controlled by Bragi – to push some of her mess of curls out of her face. “We’re Anders and Gaia now. Remember?” And then – “You’re Axl’s drippy girlfriend.”
She elbows him in the stomach with a vehemence that surprises him. “I’m not anyone’s drippy girlfriend. And you’re a bastard.”
“I am,” Anders acknowledges with a nod. “You’re just drippy then?” He ducks out of the way when she raises her fist, “Just saying!”
Gaia takes deep, steadying breaths and shuffles across the wood of the porch slightly, until there’s a clearly delineated gap between them. She presses her lips together until they turn an off-white colour. Anders rubs his neck in acknowledgement of the sudden awkwardness of the air around them. He presses his stubby fingers into the worn skin, bitten nails clawing gently into flesh.
“We never talked about it,” she breaks the silence with words that shatter glass. “What happened. It was shit, Anders.”
“It was.”
She seems surprised that he doesn’t make a pithy comment about it and brush it off. But Anders is tired, now. Thirty one and old, and a little bit lonelier now that Bragi’s gone.
“Michele’s still in love with Mike, you know,” he offers into the silence: peacemaking and a promise all wrapped up in one. “She tells me about it, sometimes. And I think –”
“I’m not in love with Axl,” Gaia breaks across. She reaches towards him, and then the gesture aborts at the last second. There is barely any gap between them now; but it’s a yawning, gaping chasm of yore. “I should – I should go.”
He nods, and watches her leave.
The cigarette has burnt itself out in his fingers.
---
Apple tea sometime? Gx
im not bragi
I know. Coffee next week? Gx