justsookie | but the water's amnesia

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but the water's amnesia

She might be in over her head, but if there's anything that Sookie thinks is worth the effort, it's something like this — helping a friend try to return to the way things were before everything went wrong.

Sookie can't count the number of times she's wished that she could turn the clock back. On her life, on those of her friends and family, wanting to erase all the loss and violence that has been constantly speckled through their every day since the moment vampires came to Bon Temps. Even all the tales and warnings about how changing past experiences doesn't necessarily fix all of one's problems aren't enough of a deterrent to Sookie; heck, the logic has never been there to her mind. Yes, losing an experience might hurt. But it's no different than making choices in the present. And what wouldn't she do or gamble, if for the sake of those she loves?

But she can't turn back the time. The world's probably better off for it. Sookie would never use that power responsibly.

Of course, offering to expose someone's memories and grant that control back to them is another matter entirely. After constantly being left in the dark by people who thought they knew better, be it Bill, Pam, Eric, or even Jessica, Sookie feels that the only just thing to do is arm each person with whatever they can be given, letting them make the choices that are right for them.

Offering to explore Newt's mind might cause trouble later on. But it's his choice. And she wants to do her best.

Dressed in a subdued blouse and a pair of jeans, Sookie shows up at Newt's apartment, a small tin of cookies in hand as she knocks on the door.

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He's been expecting her but when he gets to the door, he takes a moment to lean his head against the frame as he tries to remind himself that getting these memories back will be a good thing, it has to be if it means he'll go back to being the Newt who's not a little off, the Newt whose girlfriend doesn't cringe a little whenever he says something that apparently doesn't sound quite right, the Newt people will stop feeling sorry for because his brain doesn't work the same way.

He doesn't think he'll be the same guy he'd been before he'd been hurt but how could anyone expect him to be? A shell of his former self, no, he refuses to become that; but shit like this changes a person. He's different; he just is.

Newt forces a cheerful smile as he opens the door for Sookie, even though he knows there's no way it'll fool her--especially considering she can fucking read minds, is this really a thing that's going to happen right now--and steps aside so she can enter the apartment. "Did you bring me treats?" he asks, his smile relaxing into something more genuine. "Is that like, a standard pre-mind reading gift?"

There's a tightness around Newt's lips that gives him away. Sookie always does her best not to dip into a person's mind too early, especially if they've already been compliant in promising her access. Even though she's been known to dip in without asking, mostly in the interest of her safety or whenever curiosity outweighs, preparing for such a deep dive into another person's mind requires care.

Especially considering that it's the mind of a friend.

"More like... somethin' to remind you that I'm still just Sookie," she says with a small, slightly rueful smile. "Sookie, who overdoses all of her friends on sugar. Is it just you in the apartment right now?" Sookie steps inside, carefully shrugging off her jacket and purse to hang up by the door.

"Hey, you'll always be just Sookie to me," he tells her, and he knows that's not necessarily a promise he'll actually be able to keep after today but he hopes that it's true. Knowing what she can do doesn't change how fond he is of her; his biggest concern is that she'll see things in his head that might just keep her away. The hivemind memories, every goddamn thought he's had since That Night, none of it is particularly upbeat and even though he knows that nobody's life is perfect and sunshiney, that doesn't stop him from feeling like this might change things.

He needs to remember, though. Staying blind to That Night isn't an option anymore, not if he wants to get back on track to being the Newt Geiszler he knows he wants to be--the one his friends know him to be. So he takes the cookies in one hand and hobbles toward the living room, sure that Sookie won't be far behind.

"Yeah, just me," he answers. "Kate's at work. Not sure I'd really, y'know, want her to be here for this anyway. Kind of hard to say what's going to come out, right?"

She relaxes into a smile, even though the two of them haven't really solved anything yet. If anything, Sookie can't even conceive of what it is she might find in Newt's mind. She's never quite offered a service like this before, digging for memories that might be better off staying hidden. It's easy to say that she thinks Newt should be in control of what he knows and what he doesn't, but the idea of being tangled in it is a little intimidating. She wonders what they'll find.

She hopes that neither of them ends up with regrets after today.

"Does she know that I'm offering to help you do this?" Sookie says, slightly worried, although she doesn't hesitate before following Newt into the living room. She knows fully well what it's felt like to have Bill and Eric act like they know what's better for her, and how important it was to make decisions in spite of that. But Kate's a friend, too. "It probably is better just to leave this between the two of us though, you're right. The less there is to distract you, the better."

"I didn't tell her," he admits quietly, even though he knows he probably should have but there had been an overwhelming part of him that hadn't wanted to get Kate's hopes up about him getting his head screwed back on straight. Of course, his own hopes have a lot to do with that, too, but he'd rather reject the idea that he has any expectations about what's going to come out of this. If it doesn't work, if Sookie can't sift through what's in his head, then at least he can pretend that he's not disappointed. Telling Kate, he thinks, would have implied that he's banking on this going well--which he totally is but he's not about to say that aloud, Sookie hardly needs that kind of pressure.

He lowers himself onto the couch and holds his hands out in front of him, palms up, like he has no idea what to do--and isn't that true enough anyway?--as he looks up at her, his eyes questioning. "So tell me how this works. Do you just, y'know, start digging or what?"

"That's fine," Sookie says quickly, shaking her head and offering a soft smile as she holds up a hand. She doesn't want Newt to feel that she's going to hold back unless Kate is told, or to feel otherwise pressured to share something that he would rather process himself first. Honesty, if the two of them were switched in position, Sookie's pretty sure that she wouldn't tell too many people about her plans, either. For better or worse, Sookie's always found it easier to do first, and beg forgiveness later.

Hopefully nothing will happen that requires that type of apology, anyway.

"Well," Sookie adds, flopping onto the couch and shifting until she's turned to the side, facing Newt wholly. She reaches for his hands, laying her palms on top of his, and already his thoughts filter into her mind. His emotions already start to hover in her mind, the fact that he isn't keeping his hopes too high, the fact that he's trying to be realistic. At least it means they're on the same page. "I've never done this before, so we're gonna have to wing this one a bit. But I think... I think I wanna start with you trying to remember whatever you can about that night. Anything. Color of the sky, the temperature, whatever you can, and I'll focus in and try to paint that picture in my head, too."

He stares down at their touching hands with skepticism that really has no place here, especially not in Darrow where some of his best friends are a previously dead Ranger and a werewolf. It's not even that he can say he finds this hard to believe because he's a man of science because he's seen things that science sure as hell wouldn't have predicted for the world's future--aliens engineering monsters as biological weapons being the primary example. Still, it's kind of hard to wrap his mind around the idea that this could really work, but for his own sake he's really hoping it does.

"Right. Remembering." He furrows his brow in concentration, chewing on his bottom lip as he tries to pull the memories that have been so resistent out from whatever rock in his brian they've been hiding under and there's something, there have been flashes since he's woken up, he just hasn't been able to piece them together. He remembers feeling warm in the bar, he remembers the welcome chill of the night air when he'd stepped outside. He closes his eyes as he places himself back on that empty street. He hadn't been worried, he hadn't expected trouble. "Just wanted some fresh air."

Even though Newt's statement is simple, what Sookie feels is anything but. Closing her eyes, she grips Newt's hands a little tighter, watching as his memories start to shape up around her. There are portions of it that show up in greater detail than others, and large swaths of blurry shadows where the memories have worn away with time. Taking a deep breath, Sookie starts to explore the evening that Newt's built.

It's quiet, save for the passing of a few cars and the chilly night breeze passing through the street.

"Okay," she says quietly, not wanting to disrupt his train of thought. "I'm seein' one side of the street as much clearer than the other. Which way did you start walking? Do you remember?"

"Left," he says without hesitation, and it's hazy but he can see it, he can see himself tugging his jacket a little tighter around him as he starts a few paces to the left of the bar. It almost feels like a lucid dream except this is a hell of a lot worse because he knows what's coming, he knows what's waiting for him as he gets closer to that alley.

He wonders if Sookie can feel everything he's feeling right now, the fear and the bitterness and the resentment because why him, why did it have to be Newt that got his ass snatched into some dark corner, he doesn't think he's ever done anything to deserve something like this. He tenses, choking out a gasp when he sees the hands grabbing for him and then there's a cut, likes it's a movie, and all of a sudden he's not watching himself but is himself, seeing everything through his own eyes.

The crack of his head against the wall makes him sick and even though he knows this is just a memory, he lets out a yelp because it's like he's feeling it all over again but with an added dullness that he only wishes had been present at the time. It's after his assailant drops Newt to the ground and kicks him in the side, when the guy reaches for what Newt knows is that knife, that's when Newt's eyes fly open and he jerks away from Sookie.

"I'm sorry," he says, voice shaky and hands shakier. "Fuck, I-- I'm sorry."

Without even realizing, Sookie's breath starts to run short. Her pulse starts to race, and there's a coolness that spreads down her arms, a prickle that travels down her spine and folds itself away uncomfortably in her stomach. The only thing that anchors her in the moment is the contact with Newt's hands, grounding her in where she is and what they're tasked to accomplish. Trying to find out what parts of Newt that he might be folding away, what they need to massage in order to bring him to where he was before.

While settling into the scene had been slow and gradual, being jerked out of it is anything but, and Sookie draws in a shuddering breath when Newt pulls away. Seeing the pallor of his complexion, Sookie reaches out again with a softer touch — this time, not meant to draw from him, but instead trying to return some warmth.

"Hey. Hey, it's okay," she says quietly, her brows furrowed. "You're here with me, Newt, in your apartment. You're completely safe. That was a start, okay? We don't have to explore everything today, we don't have to go any further than you feel comfortable doing. Do you need some water?"

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but the water's amnesia

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