( good. Kate's cooking is so bland ok. There's a reason she mostly subsists on stir-frys back home. chuck a bunch of things in a wok, add soy sauce and be done with it.
she flinches a little at that description. spice was alright but there's way too much of it in that. )
Y'ever wonder if we'll get so used to this that home'll seem weird?
( her eyes wander to that notebook she lay down earlier and she wonders, just for a moment, how Sam's taking his return home. how strange is being in the open air again, back in your life as if nothing ever happened? as if you didn't spend months as food for Gods and meet people and-
care for them.
is that even what happens? Faith turned up from the same time of year that Kate left, months before, but is that the way it works, or just a fluke? are things moving on back home without them? did things move on without him, and he's back a year later without any explanation? )
[Look, Faith's not great at cooking, but she can manage!
She frowns thoughtfully as she sips at her tea. What a good question.]
Mm, well... prob'ly. Though that just means that home'll feel all new again. New and familiar. Wonder what that's like!
[The notebook. She's definitely noticed it, but she doesn't want to pry, wants to let Kate deal with it however she likes. For now, anyway.
She's wondered about that too. If life's going on without them, if people know they're gone. She didn't know Kate was gone, but would she have, in another month or two? Is anyone missing them?
As long as no one's rebuilding Rosenberg's legacy, it doesn't really matter, Faith supposes, except in that the people that care about them will be grieving for their unexplained loss.
What a sad thought. Better to think they'll be living more fully in memory of them.]
( honestly, she'd thought about dropping it in the lake, asking Faith to burn it. something, anything to get rid of it. forget. that's always her first instinct. bury it, as deep as possible. pretend it never happened.
the urge to remember, to share her happiness, as brief as it might have been in the grand scheme of things, only came when she got here, spreading from the centre of her chest, warm and familiar.
(you can lose anyone, at any moment. maybe she's never approached that fact in the right way.)
so she doesn't bother asking. leaves the notebook untouched. a little reminder of the fact that he was here - even if the gods make them forget everything, maybe that will still exist. a tangible little thing that means her memories are more than ultra-vivid dreams, like those they had months ago. )
Don't think I got used enough to LA to have it feel familiar.
( although, maybe she has something of an idea for what that must feel like, after leaving the UK. but she's only been in LA a month. )
[As if it's that easy. Faith knows it's not, but it's so simplistic that it might at least help Kate along in the immediate aftermath of Sam's disappearance.]
Or, you make LA an adventure all over again.
[And you never, ever forget what got you to where you are.]
Better weather in LA. ( it's a half-hearted joke, but one that remains true. Kate's always preferred the sun to the rain and the cold, where she can more easily run.
and she couldn't leave even if she wanted to. can't just let the clinic stand alone a month after its inception, not deliberately. Jon may be able to do her job, but he shouldn't have to. he's not properly trained for it, like she's not properly trained to heal people.
and honestly? Kate couldn't forget how she got here if she tried. she would love to, to forget the mistakes in her past and pretend that she and Faith met in a much nicer way, that Marc's death wasn't her own failing... but she can't. the memories are burned into each of her cells, unable to be forgotten. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Right? Not bad for... dunno, whatever it is.
[Sure. Something to do. It's fun!]
Tried somehin' else before this, tasted like... fifteen chili peppers in every bite.
[She makes a face. Gross.]
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she flinches a little at that description. spice was alright but there's way too much of it in that. )
Y'ever wonder if we'll get so used to this that home'll seem weird?
( her eyes wander to that notebook she lay down earlier and she wonders, just for a moment, how Sam's taking his return home. how strange is being in the open air again, back in your life as if nothing ever happened? as if you didn't spend months as food for Gods and meet people and-
care for them.
is that even what happens? Faith turned up from the same time of year that Kate left, months before, but is that the way it works, or just a fluke? are things moving on back home without them? did things move on without him, and he's back a year later without any explanation? )
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She frowns thoughtfully as she sips at her tea. What a good question.]
Mm, well... prob'ly. Though that just means that home'll feel all new again. New and familiar. Wonder what that's like!
[The notebook. She's definitely noticed it, but she doesn't want to pry, wants to let Kate deal with it however she likes. For now, anyway.
She's wondered about that too. If life's going on without them, if people know they're gone. She didn't know Kate was gone, but would she have, in another month or two? Is anyone missing them?
As long as no one's rebuilding Rosenberg's legacy, it doesn't really matter, Faith supposes, except in that the people that care about them will be grieving for their unexplained loss.
What a sad thought. Better to think they'll be living more fully in memory of them.]
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the urge to remember, to share her happiness, as brief as it might have been in the grand scheme of things, only came when she got here, spreading from the centre of her chest, warm and familiar.
(you can lose anyone, at any moment. maybe she's never approached that fact in the right way.)
so she doesn't bother asking. leaves the notebook untouched. a little reminder of the fact that he was here - even if the gods make them forget everything, maybe that will still exist. a tangible little thing that means her memories are more than ultra-vivid dreams, like those they had months ago. )
Don't think I got used enough to LA to have it feel familiar.
( although, maybe she has something of an idea for what that must feel like, after leaving the UK. but she's only been in LA a month. )
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[As if it's that easy. Faith knows it's not, but it's so simplistic that it might at least help Kate along in the immediate aftermath of Sam's disappearance.]
Or, you make LA an adventure all over again.
[And you never, ever forget what got you to where you are.]
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and she couldn't leave even if she wanted to. can't just let the clinic stand alone a month after its inception, not deliberately. Jon may be able to do her job, but he shouldn't have to. he's not properly trained for it, like she's not properly trained to heal people.
and honestly? Kate couldn't forget how she got here if she tried. she would love to, to forget the mistakes in her past and pretend that she and Faith met in a much nicer way, that Marc's death wasn't her own failing... but she can't. the memories are burned into each of her cells, unable to be forgotten. )
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[Yeah. None of what they've been through is something you just forget.]
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When we get back.