iselldrugstothecommunity | But Time Takes Time, You Know [Musebox]

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But Time Takes Time, You Know [Musebox]

It's hard to research things that haven't happened yet, Howard discovers. Rather than hitting the library, like he would have on Stacy, he has to spend a lot of time thinking, sitting around talking to Barbara about every detail he remembers of his family history. Every year that passes by, the memories get a little more obscure, a little less refined, and he starts to panic, thinking that he won't have enough information to track down his family at all soon.

Over endless cups of tea, Barbara asks questions ("do you remember your mother's maiden name? do you know where your father's parents were from before they came to California? do you remember what their professions were?") to try and drag out the useful information, but it ends up being a stray memory of a Christmas dinner that puts the pieces in place.

"My grandma has to be in San Francisco. They had a one year wedding anniversary ornament on the Christmas tree of the Golden Gate Bridge, and I'm pretty sure they got married in 1969."

What they were doing in San Francisco is beyond his knowledge, but it's the closest they have to a shot. He doesn't know what hospitals his parents were born in, or where his paternal grandparents might be now, or even what year his parents are going to meet. It takes a lot of agonizing before he decides to spend all that money he's been saving in a can under the sink on plane tickets for him and Barbara to go there, but when he invites her she agrees that it's important to him, and besides, how often does one get to vacation in America?

So they both have suitcases packed and a promise to be back in ten days, waiting for Ian in the kitchen to come drive them to the airport. Howard's nervous, naturally, because he's not sure how he'll introduce himself to total strangers as their grandkid from the future. But he's come to relax a bit - a bit - over the last few years, and as such he just chews his lip and bounces his leg a bit rather than panics. He even got six hours of sleep last night. It's truly a miracle.

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"The world could be invaded at any moment, though. A little fear is healthy." He pauses, then adds. "I mean, you don't have to be a basketcase like me, that's not what I'm saying, but isn't it better to prepare him?"

Two years old isn't too young for that, by Howard's reckoning.

Barbara shrugged. It wasn't what she believed. She knew that the world would be invaded in 2050, but that also could have changed since Stacey.

"So long as he isn't terribly frightened," was her reply.

He doesn't appear to be making any headway, so he drops it. It's her kid, he guesses.

"What's he like? I mean, what do you think he's going to grow up to be like?"

"I'm not sure what he'll grow up to be like." She looked up at the ceiling of the airplane as she thought about it. "He's very much like Ian - stubborn and curious. He injures himself daily because he insists on doing everything himself, so he also has his father's confidence. I can only hope that he grows up to be just as thoughtful, open-minded and smart as Ian. I'd hate for him to have all that fearlessness and confidence, and no common sense."

"Curious is good. I'm not sure you can be curious and not be open-minded." Then again, Howard's a curious sort and he can be pretty judgmental. "Is he anything like you?"

"I'm sure he is. Ian tells me that he pouts like I do, but he's wrong because I don't pout." Barbara pulled a face for a beat before giggling. "You'll have to meet him and tell me yourself."

"Yeah, um..." Howard fidgets and presses his lips together. "Give me a few years on that? It's still..."

He shrugs. Maybe when John's old enough to talk and be left alone without supervision for half an hour.

Barbara nodded. "Of course. Take as much time as you'd like."

"I'll be ready someday," he promises, then leans back as the captain starts making announcements and the plane starts to move.

"You ready now?"

Barbara watched as stewardesses lined along the cabin to give the safety demonstration. She took a deep breath, glancing at the instruction card kept in the pocket of the seat in front of her.

"I'm a little nervous, I'll admit," she whispered to Howard, not wanting to seem like she was trying to talk over the important message about seats and seatbelts, and emergency procedures. "But I think I'll be alright."

"You'll be okay. It'd be super anticlimactic for us to survive Stacy and then die in a plane crash." He grins. "I wonder what my grandparents are going to be like as people my age. I mean. A little older. But still."

The hostess nearest to them looked over when Barbara chuckled. She gave the woman an apologetic look and patted Howard on the knee. When the demonstration was over, she turned to Howard so that their conversation could continue without offending anyone.

"I'm sure they're wonderful people. They'd have to be."

"Why do you think that?" Howard sounds genuinely perplexed.

"Because you came from them," she replied simply, "and all of that wisdom and wonderfullness must have come from somewhere." Of course, it would have come from his parents, too, but they were focusing on his grandparents for the moment.

He stays looking confused, mostly because he doesn't see that. "I kind of thought any of that came from you and Ian."

Barbara shrugged. Perhaps it did and perhaps it didn't, either way the focus was on his grandparents.

"Still, let's be positive."

"I'm not being negative, I just figure...if you guys hadn't stepped in, I'd be a bit more of a, I don't know. Jackass, I guess. Or a mess. Or both." He pokes at the instructions for emergency plane escapes in the seat-back pocket.

"I meant in general. We'll be positive that your grandparents are lovely, beautiful people who won't ask too many questions about where you've come from and how you know them." Barbara smiled at her little joke and crossed her legs while her hands folded in her lap.

"Maybe they'll be hippies who think time travel is totally legit." He squirms in his seat and drums his fingers. "Do you mind if I try to nap through the first half of this ride? Since it's like..."

He counts on his fingers. "Nine hours."

"Of course I don't mind," she replied and undid her seatbelt as the light turned off. "I might try and get some sleep myself - you don't mind, do you?"

"No, I demand you stay up every moment to cater to my whims." He gets the packaged blanket from under the seat and passes it to Barbara. "Get some rest."

He tries to find a comfortable position and then lie very still - not easy for someone whose natural inclination is to fidget. The nightmares that plagued his teenage years have mostly subsided, but there's still a particular anxiety that comes with trying to sleep, and occasionally the old revenants come to play. He closes his eyes and pretends he's sleeping, hoping that once Barbara's resting he can nod off too.

She laughed lightly, softly so as not to disturb anyone else, and took the blanket from Howard. Not having slept a lot the night before, it was only a moment before her head began to lull on her shoulder, and her breathing slowed. A small amount of turbulence jolted her, and she shifted, half awake, in her sleep to rest on Howard's shoulder and fall back asleep again.

Howard doesn't move a bit, staying stock still so Barbara can rest. It means he doesn't sleep, so he starts writing something in his head instead. It's just scenes now, no story linking them together, but he'll figure that out as it comes. When Barbara wakes up, maybe he'll write out some of the ideas in his notebook.

He nudges her a bit when the stewardess approaches with food. "Hey, hey. You awake? Want to try your luck with airline food?"

A soft groan issued from Barbara as she was nudged awake. Were she somewhere more comfortable than an airplane seat, she might have rolled over and gone back to sleep. But she also didn't know when she'd next get a chance to eat something.

"May as well," she replied, folding the blanket down over her lap. "Anything in particular?"

"I don't think we get much choice," he says, and sure enough when the stewardess comes by her only options are chicken or noodles (and she refuses to give Howard both). He eventually settles on noodles and eats quickly, though not wolfishly.

"Can I tell you something without you freaking out?"

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