a_gentle_boy | Twentieth PSI

[action, multi-topic for everyone]
Lucas is a wreck. By now, he has forsaken the hat and the mask, and his burn marks are very clearly visible to anyone who didn't guess before. He doesn't particularly care.

1. He stumbles across town like a zombie, smashing into things wherever he goes, barely registering the pain. He stops suddenly in random spots, staring at the floor or at a tree or at a shop window or at a drone. This is where we had ice cream. This is where I bought him the present. This is the bench where he listened to my story . . . This is where . . . This is . . .

2. In school, he keeps his head down and buried and sits in a far corner. His shoulders occasionally heave.

3. At home, he shuts himself in his room. Family members or those who visit him will find drawing after drawing after drawing of a certain person strewn all across the floor, each one with slash marks through the face. Is he already forgetting? Is he losing the smile, the laugh, the voice?

[action, forward-dated, open to Taiwan, Saki, and Mindy]
A full day after his meeting with Taiwan, Lucas enters the house uninvited. He doesn't care about not being selfish anymore. He has remembered -- There is something very precious he needs to get back, the symbol and the memory that he absolutely needs.

He finds it in the basement. True to his word, the Netherlands has framed the very first drawing that Lucas has ever made, of Miffy and Hello Kitty enjoying a picnic in a park. Propped up beside it is the best piece of art that Lucas has ever produced: a drawing of the two of them, laughing and happy, so closely resembling each other in looks that they could've passed as a father and a son.

He is about to leave with his treasures when he catches a glimpse of something else out of the corner of his eye. A shoebox. For 'Lucas'. His hands shake as he pops the lid; he stares at what's inside.

"Mr. Netherlands . . . . . . . I . . . I . . . OK. I'll keep going. I'll keep fighting . . . "

((I have been informed that Lucas has been left notes of all the conversations the Netherlands has had with Jane Smith, the Westport notes, and Richard Grey's wallet. Also, Nini, if you don't mind, I think I will forward-date that conversation they just had to after this.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sure am.

What's on your mind?

[He does not know why he asked this.]

. . . What's . . . it like . . . ?

Well...gosh, I've never been anything but, 'cept when I was a colony.

It's pretty great, I guess! Lotta responsibility, though. Sometimes that's kind of rough.

. . . Um. How well do you know all your people . . . ?

I haven't met every single one of them, 'cause that's millions of people.

But when we do meet, we get along good. Better than me and anybody else.

[He listens closely to that, nodding. There is a vague sense of perverted pride welling him from the numbness. If that is the case . . . then . . . he had known the Netherlands much more than even his own people had.]

. . . What about the other countries?

Oh, they're jerks mostly.

Some are okay.

Did . . . Did you know 'Holland'?

Oh.

Yeah, of course. He's a good guy.

[Lucas smiles sadly at that and swallows.]

He was the best.

Aww, kid...

[He doesn't really know what to say to that; to him, Netherlands has always been a kind of gruff, kind of odd guy who'd never really done anything to get on America's bad side and who wasn't arrogant like some. In Mayfield, he'd gotten to know him better as someone reliable and brave, but it was still hard to see Netherlands as the type of person a kid would have grown so attached to.]

It's gonna be rough for a while without him, but it'll all turn out okay.

[His arm is up to his face now to wipe at the tears that had come unbidden. When would he run out of them? It feels, to him, as if he has been in the depths of sorrow for an eternity. He only shakes his head silently. It won't be OK; they'll pretend it's OK; they'll say it's better that he's at home; they'll say to themselves that they have accepted it and it is OK.

All he knows is that there's a hole in his heart that will never be filled again. It will only be patched over.]

[America knows how hard it is to say goodbye; he'd come to care deeply for some here who left after some time, after all. But he's been saying goodbye since he was very young, since he first began to learn that almost every person in his world will grow old and die during the amount of time in which he'd be lucky to age a year, and he's become used to it. Still, he remembers how it felt when he was a child, when he had to say goodbye to the friends he made who grew up without him.

He puts his hand on Lucas's shoulder, but doesn't say anything more.]

[He flinches slightly at the touch, but does not pull away. The boy continues to cry silently into his arm, breathing and gasping softly every few moments as he makes an effort to keep himself under control.

The Netherlands is gone, for good. That is the worst thing. But close behind is the understanding that he is dealing with it in the worst way possible; close behind is the knowledge that he has once again allowed his weakness to overwhelm him. There is nothing the Netherlands would be more unhappy to see than Lucas's devastation, but he is powerless against it, no matter how hard he tries. The guilt is nearly as bad.]

I just want . . . to say goodbye.

People come back all the time. You never know what's really goodbye.

[He sighs, though, knowing that answer isn't satisfactory. He's not so great at this, but he'll try.]

If you want...when I see him again, I can tell him for you.

. . . Thanks. But you won't remember me, either.

Oh, yeah.

Well...you never know for sure.

[Lucas is quiet for a while before he responds.]

Maybe . . .

Twentieth PSI

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