THE MOTHERFUCKING TEST DRIVE MEME STRIKES BACK

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TEST DRIVE MEME

 

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[assumedposition]

[That gets some kind of a snort-laugh out of him.]

Just you.

[He wipes his face again and breathes in and out slowly, calming down properly.]

Just-- don't ever give me cause to do it again, okay? I missed you.

[discretion]

I'll do my best! [Franz laughs, clapping him on the back. He tries to make it into a joke, for when would such a situation ever turn up in their lives again? Then again, they've been thrust into a totally unknown situation. It could very well happen again.

...And he would do it in a heartbeat for an Albert. He's quite certain that won't change.]

[assumedposition]

[It doesn't escape Albert's notice-- Franz has still been his best friend for the better part of a decade, after all. Albert might still miss much, but at the very least he's familiar with the way Franz is an expert in changing the subject, or in making something serious into a joke, to avoid being scrutinized too closely. Albert sighs.]

... There you go again-- you're always like that. I'm being serious here.

[It's almost too much to take in. Franz is here. Right here, beside him. Alive. Alive and breathing and joking, like everything is fine, everything is normal and nothing bad at all had happened.]

[discretion]

[Franz can't think about it. He simply can't. What would it accomplish? He's already feeling claustrophobic, knowing they're out in space in a ship and the only way he's even alive is because of this strange situation. He'll never see the Paris of his youth again. He'll probably never see his mother again. It's a miracle that Albert is here, but he's suspicious of it.

What's left, if he can't admit he's afraid to face this?

Just like he could never face so many truths, just laughed at them over his shoulder and held on tightly to the boy in front of him when he knew, he knew he would lose Albert someday, he just couldn't let it be like that...


No, it has to be jokes as usual.]

Hey, one of us has to stay levelheaded here, y'know.

[His voice says looks like it's me again.]

[assumedposition]

To hell with being level-headed!

[Someone should write that on Albert's coat of arms. But how else is he supposed to feel right now? Is he supposed to be calm and joke around like Franz? He can't do that. "You don't understand," is on the tip of his tongue, but that wouldn't be fair, so he catches himself. Of course Franz doesn't understand. How could he?

I'm responsible for your death, I didn't listen, I was so selfish and stubborn. I watched you die. I felt the warmth drain out of your body, I held you after the last breath left your body and until the paramedics came and they had to pull me off you. I stood at your gravestone. Every day I prayed that next jump you'd be here, and every night I have that nightmare again where your blood is on my hands and I can't get it off. You left me, and it's my fault, and now I've changed, but I'm still trying to desperately cling on to who I was. How the hell can I be level headed?

He almost says it. There's a long pause where he thinks it. But the days when Albert would blurt out exactly what he was thinking without a care for anyone else's feelings have faded. Eventually he lets go of the breath he didn't know he was holding, and what comes out is:]

... Sorry. I'm still a little ... overwhelmed, that's all.

[discretion]

[The first thing says is so typical Albert that Franz barely contains his fond laugh. He seems strangely quiet, after that, and Franz isn't sure how to respond when he was expecting more shouting.

What has happened between them is huge, and it's his fault in a way. How can one mend a gulf like death? The Count had already lured Albert so far away from him, further than their respective marriages and eventual duties would pull them from each other.]

You're not the only one, okay?

[Franz holds Albert close, almost cradling him for a long moment. This place is different, but Albert's hair, his skin still smell like he remembers. It's buried beneath the sterile, mechanical scent of this place but it's there. Albert is here, and real, and he never thought he'd see him again.

He sort of wishes he could cry, so he would stop feeling so raw yet plugged up inside.]

[assumedposition]

[Albert rests on Franz like that for a while, letting himself be comforted. He let his breathing slow as the familiar sensation washed over him. It was the natural way of things, it seemed. Even after death, Franz was still the one taking care of him, looking out for him... just once, he should like to be able to take care of Franz and not the other way around. It never occurred to him before, but now -- now it just seems so ... so one-sided. Franz should resent him, at least a little.

A nasty thought occurs to him.]

... Franz. This is real, right?

[discretion]

[...Well that's a horrible thought. But if it weren't real, shouldn't Franz be the only one with the ability to question it? That seems like dream logic. Dream people tend to be a lot more straightforward. Franz frowns slightly, pressing his lips together in a line of concentration.

There have been reports that people dying have rich hallucinations, but he can't imagine his own mind fabricating something this elaborate. He hopes his own mind is a little more organized.

Franz rubs his chin a moment, looking deep in thought.

Then gives Albert a firm pinch on his cheek, pulling slightly.

Not letting go, he asks in a deadpan:] Well, does that hurt?

[assumedposition]

[The reaction is immediate:]

Owwwwwwwww yes! Leggo!

[discretion]

[And Franz snickers at the pain he's caused Albert in this moment. It feels really good. Almost normal. Almost.

He lets go.] Must not be dreaming, then.

[assumedposition]

[Rubbing at the abused cheek]

Geez... you could've done it some other way!

[discretion]

Simply telling you wouldn't have sufficed, would it? Even though I kicked you before.

[Yes, Albert is so cute when he's indignant. He'd much rather see him fussing like this than crying. It lifts his heart even though there are still so many questions.

Franz was so certain he'd never see Albert again, no matter what happened.]

[assumedposition]

Please. You call that a kick? I barely felt it.

[discretion]

Oh, please! You cried out like a girl!

[So maybe his kick wasn't up to snuff. It probably has something to do with having died recently and now turning up all woozy from cold sleep, or whatever the hell just happened.

It's certainly a dizzying thought. Franz pushes Albert off of him.] Come on. You need to show me around this place.

[assumedposition]

... All right, all right, come on. Let's get you settled.

I take it you found your locker? You'll have a room that corresponds to the same number. And-- you must be hungry, right? I'll show you to the kitchens too, and-- and I've been learning how to cook! So I can make you something to eat when we get there.

[No guarantees on quality, though.]

[discretion]

You're cooking, huh? I guess it's true when they say the future brings unimaginable wonders...

[Franz struggles to his feet, shaking his head a little in amusement.]

[assumedposition]

Well it's not like they have servants here. It's every man for himself!

[Albert stands too, and begins leading the way.]

[discretion]

[Franz snorts quietly and rolls his eyes. It's easy to forget that Albert does know what he's talking about... it will be interesting to see how he's fared without people to tend to his every need.] No servants? How terribly uncivilized...

[assumedposition]

It was really awful, the first few weeks...! But I'm getting the hang of it now. I figure... it's good practice for me anyway. Even if we manage to get back home... I can't go on living with Mother forever.

[discretion]

With your mother... Albert, your father... did the Count...? [Franz stops, touching Albert's arm. He knows the pain of losing his father. Of course, the man known to everyone as Fernand de Morcerf was hardly a good person. Franz understands how love can twist a person, and he still can't imagine nor understand what Fernand has done. Not only to his own best friend, but a planet full of innocents.

He does not want to believe his best friend's father deserved to die, but as the Count's plan spun, it seemed inevitable. Franz hadn't been able to stop the monster.]

[assumedposition]

[It had just slipped out, really-- he had forgotten that Franz wouldn't know, that he'd have to explain. He's so used to Franz just automatically knowing everything.]

No. No, he... [Albert draws a breath, steeling himself. He hasn't spoken of this to anyone, since he arrived here. He doesn't even want to think about it, most days. If it were anyone else, he'd shrug them off somehow. But it's Franz. If he can't tell Franz, then what was the point of having a best friend?]

... He committed suicide, in the end. ... I guess-- maybe, he couldn't come to terms with the reality of the things he'd done. ... Ugh, I don't really want to talk about it, sorry. I didn't even mean to bring it up.

[discretion]

Of course. [Franz never speaks of his father. Sometimes his mother wants to talk of him, and they do, but only then. He can respect if Albert wants to leave the subject well alone, though it seems unlike him not to cry or complain. Maybe it's been long enough that all of that's behind him. He's grown up a little.] I shouldn't have mentioned it either.

[assumedposition]

[He would cry about Franz's death. He would still be crying about that for months to come, even with Franz right beside him. He would even cry about the Count's death. But his feelings surrounding his father's death are so complicated... he cried at the time, but now the tears won't come. He's not just upset-- he's angry, and he hates what his father did. And then he hates that he's angry, and hates himself for not being able to just let the whole thing go. So... it's a mess, basically.]

No... you weren't to know. And you have a right to know what happened, in any case. You knew him as well as anyone.

[discretion]

[When Franz was younger, he looked up a lot to Fernand. It was a natural sort of thing for a boy to do, missing a father figure as he was. He came to think of Fernand as something like an uncle, someone he was fond of and someone he secretly hoped would give him that 'masculine' guidance that people seemed to think he desperately needed. There were rumors about boys who were too spoiled by their mothers and never taught to be proper men by their fathers, though it seemed like Albert was the one who grew up sensitive and mollycoddled.

As Franz grew up he began to think less of the adults in their world, and Fernand was no exception. Everything he learned came as a shock and bitter disappointment for a brief time, and he was a little saddened to realize it didn't actually require a stretch of the imagination to think Fernand, Villeforte and Danglars were capable of what they did.

It was just more of the same from the aristocracy.

Disgusting, and they are part of it too, rolled up in it, stuck. Franz always wanted to get a job off-planet doing something useful, in its own, sick way, perhaps now is when he'll have his chance.]

I suppose I knew as much and as little.

[Where it anyone else, Franz might point out there were plenty who knew Fernand better. Haydee Tebelin, Mercedes, the Count. But that's not what Albert needs to hear right now, or possibly ever.

Franz gives Albert's arm another gentle squeeze.] I'm sorry.

I don't know how someone like that made someone like you, but... You are everything he's not.

[assumedposition]

[Thinking about Fernand is absolutely top of the list of things that make Albert uneasy, confused and upset. He doesn't even know how he should begin to respond to that. For all that happened, he still loved his father. Should he get defensive on his behalf? But it wouldn't be the truth... should he just accept it? Should he add to it? Franz doesn't even know the half of it. Franz doesn't know that Fernand shot his own wife and son.

No, it's too much. Franz doesn't need to know that. He'd only worry more over something that he couldn't change. In the end, Albert decides that the best way to respond to that is to not.]

... Anyway. It's in the past now.

You'll probably be glad to know ... the Count-- Edmond Dantes is dead, too. [But that's a sticking point between them, so he doesn't really want to have a conversation about that right now either. He hurries on.] I was living with Mother in a small place in Marseille... we were still thinking about my options for the future when I woke up here. Eugénie got an offer to study at some famous music school in New York, so she's in America now. And Haydée has returned to Janina, to take back her rightful place on the throne.