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absintheandtextbooks · 2 years ago

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Message in a Bottle Part 2

penpals Au

content warning: Alcohol, events of the show can't think of much else.

Author's note: sorry for the delay life has life-ed quite a lot but I've had a chance and drive to pick this up again and enjoyed it immensely. hopefully there will be less of a break after this one!

2021 - New Years

Mabel’s aunt wasn’t fully moved out by November, she didn’t fully clear the apartment until mid December. She had started to move in then and had barely finished putting all her boxes in by Christmas. By the time the 31st finally rolled around she had unpacked all of her boxes and was sitting in a bare but intact apartment. As midnight slowly ticked closer she poured herself glass after glass of cheap wine and listened to brighter and brighter music until the room seemed warm and shimmery and her head started to spin. She didn’t like being here tonight but it felt dishonest and almost disrespectful to leave. She cracked open her paints and began priming a wall. By 10:30 she had a new blank canvas. By 10:35 all of her paints were open and glistening in the dim lights she had on but looking at the blank wall she didn’t start painting. Instead, in the warm buzz of light she took out a small piece of pressboard and pulled up google images. She stumbled across several paintings she was entranced with: Orpheus by Franz von Stuck, The Death of Orpheus by Henri Leopold Levy, and Orpheus Lamenting Eurydice by Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot. In each there was a profound sense of loneliness and quiet. Even though in one Orpheus was playing he seemed deeply sad. She began to sketch on the pressboard. She poured her own loneliness into the sketch glancing over the poetry her Orpheus has sent. The painting began as bright, the background a scattering of colors with a figure silhouetted in blue, an indistinct figure - her Orpheus. At 11:42 she could tell the painting wasn’t done. It felt incomplete. Colors swirled around the figure but he still felt distant, separate. She stepped back and closed her paints, grabbing the rest of her bottle and throwing a thick coat on and headed to the roof. The door handle was icy as she reached towards it despite how thick the door was and it squeaked as it opened and clattered closed. She felt steady enough to sit on the barrier, remembering the feeling of her legs dangling over the street from her childhood but kept herself firmly planted on the ground. Instead she downed the rest of her wine. Snow was falling gently on her cheeks and pleasantly cooled the wine-blush there. She set the empty bottle beside her feet and pulled out her phone. She started a message to Orpheus and then paused. Then, deciding she started typing, quickly.

Orpheus,

I’ve been meaning to ask. Haven’t for a while, but meant to ask, why did you join this penpal thing, all those years ago. If you’re comfortable telling me. I want to know - I’d like to know. But no pressure. My friend died. I miss them so much but they were always so bright. Everyone loved them but they were like flashpaper. They burned so bright so fast - now it seems almost inevitable they’d burn out. They never did anything by halves and I loved them so much - like a sibling. So for some reason I couldn’t really get over it. It seems like it shot a hole in my life just dragging things into it. Thank you for talking with me. I just wanted to share. I’m not fully sure why.

~CS

With one more cursory glance out at the city, Mabel bundled the coat closer around her and grabbed the bottle, dragging herself back inside, the melting snowflakes making her hair damp and leaving tiny puddles as it dripped on the elevator floor.

~~~~~~

This New Years was treating Theo much like every other one. He was at some odd dinner party where his father was paying him just enough attention he couldn’t complain about it. He knew no one. After hunting, his father had found him an apartment just far enough away from the Arconia that he was pretty sure he could avoid contact as much as possible, which just made Theo want to visit the damned place less. However, his father was throwing a party there. It always made Theo nervous, having that many people in the same place his father hid the jewels. So, Theo stayed stationary at parties, his back to the miniscule gap in the bookcase just thinking. As he absently sipped whatever concoction his father was serving he read through his files on his phone, poetry just out of reach as a means to cope tonight. He wanted to go back to his apartment, to completely check out but he knew that would just earn him a deeply disappointed look and a very long lecture about the family business and his father sticking his neck out for him and how this was the least he could do. So he stayed, resting the champagne flute on the shelf so he could try to let words bubble up. Stubbornly the words didn’t seem to come. Everything he tried to write felt disjointed - hollow. None of the words doing justice to the swirl of colors and images in his head. Every time he blinked green and silver and gold seemed to glimmer across an inky black the gentle sparkle turning to a quick blur and disappearing. He could see Zoe’s face turn from anger and disgust to shock as she felt the emptiness beneath her and he could feel the numbness of not being in his own body, truly not knowing how he was standing or moving or breathing.

The words kept not coming as the hours ticked by. A few of his father’s guests would nod politely to him or converse briefly but none of them wanted to keep up the effort of the conversation. As midnight swiftly approached he closed out the files on his phone sharply, finished his glass and went to grab his coat from the room acting as a coat closet. As he finally dug his coat out of the pile his phone buzzed. He rolled his eyes as he pulled it out of his pocket to check the notification, expecting it to be his dad demanding he stay later. It wasn’t. He sat down sharply on the pile of coats, his slung loosley in his arm as he opened his phone to read. It was from Callie. The words seemed like those he’d been trying to reach for as he wrote earlier. They were achingly honest and vulnerable. It was unlike most of the things Callie had sent up till then. She always seemed to stick to short conversational and friendly but almost sterile responses - devoid of the gut wrenching depth he was reading. They were what he would consider friends, each sharing things about themselves but she was always a little distant. Theo hadn’t minded, so was he, but this was different. He wondered what her evening had looked like to lead to the message she sent, probably bleak (much like his own he secretly hoped).

He paused with his finger hovering over the response button. He genuinely didn’t know what to say. It didn’t feel like there was much he should say. The coats were warm but seemed to waft up a cacophony of smells. The light was bright in the room reflecting off of several mirrors. Maybe the champagne was getting to him. He deftly tapped the response button and began typing quickly, finally the words he was struggling over unblocking.

Callie,

I can’t fully explain now. I don’t know if I ever can but I don’t mind telling you a bit. I’d also like you to know. Something happened that I can’t tell my part in. I just know the end point of everything. I can remember a numbness - almost as if I was trapped inside my body but apart from it. I think I was in shock. I can see colors and images and flashes of the whole thing but can’t quite put it all in focus. Even now as I’m trying to remember its swimming in my head and it hurts. And even now i’m scared of it. I’m scared of me. I don’t know if I can talk about it anymore but I never want to feel like that again and I feel trapped. Here. now. Not urgently - you don’t need to call anyone or do anything I don’t either it’s just a feeling. The numbness keeps coming back.

Thank you for sharing.

Orpheus

His finger hovered over the send button. And then suddenly, almost as a surprise to himself his finger lunged forward and hit send. Theo stood and pocketed his phone, pulling his coat on and waving to his father as he gently closed the door. As he began to leave and heavily pressed the elevator button the light went on quickly as the elevator seemed to be passing through his floor. As the doors opened he could see a haggard young woman standing inside. She looked damp and like she was deeply tired but her eyes were bright. A wine bottle was held loosely in her fist and her other hand held her coat snugly around her. He looked at the buttons and saw that every number was pressed. She slowly drifted her eyes up to meet his and seemed to barely recognize him. He also thought she looked familiar but couldn’t quite put a finger on it. She tilted her head toward the buttons, not saying anything and leaned towards the wall, letting it hold her up. He pointed at the still lit first floor and went to the opposite side, standing upright in the other corner. He briefly glanced over at her again, trying to catch another glance and try to figure out who she was but her dark hair had fallen limply, its damp locks obscuring her face. She stayed completely still the whole ride down and as he exited the elevator he watched her start pushing all the buttons again as the doors began closing. He wondered how Callie was doing. He hoped she was ok and was around people who cared about her on what was clearly a rough day, and he hoped hearing from him helped her as much as hearing from her had helped him.

2021 January 31

Mabel was alight with the mystery; it was late in the evening and she was back in the Arconia after a day with Oscar and her mother. She was fresh off of wanting to leave the podcast and finding a new and incredibly exciting clue and was ravenous to find Tim’s killer. And, they had just figured out Teddy Dimas was Angel! It was fantastically exciting. She sat buried in blankets in bed just wired. She wasn’t sure if sleep was possible. On top of all of that, she and Oscar had kissed. It was a very overwhelming day. She glanced over at her stack of puzzles but remembered how late it was. Not wanting to be drawn into a puzzle and be up so late she would be of no help the next day she laid down and opened her phone. She scrolled online for 10 minutes before finally opening her email. She’d reread Orpheus’s message several times since New Years and read it again now. The words were just as stark this time as every other, clear and distinct but unlike his beautiful use of syntax in poetry. She turned the words over in her head before opening some of his other poems, letting the words resonate in her mind, calming her down. She opened a new email to Orpheus.

Orpheus,

I’ve had a very busy day! I reconnected with a childhood friend and it was romantic and wonderful and work is going incredibly well!! My day has been electric but I seem to be reaching for your words to calm down. You really should look at publishing these. They’re beautiful. You have this sense of rhythm I can’t seem to find in most other poetry. I just wanted to message you quickly to say I appreciate them and you should let the world see them! I hope you’re doing well.

~Callie

As she finished the message she smiled slightly and flipped the lights off, setting an alarm on her phone and snuggling under the blankets to drift off to sleep.

~~~~~~

Water was dripping into the sink, reflecting off of the scalpel and tools at the bottom of the sink and spraying all over Theo’s blue scrub-like coverall leaving little dark specks. Amidst it all he felt a buzz on his phone. He dropped the tools onto a towel and carefully pulled off his gloves, throwing them in the hazardous waste and sitting on the stool he frequented. He saw the message was from Callie. He’d gotten messages from her at all times but hadn’t opened them in the funeral home before. It felt wrong for some reason. But his life felt like it was falling to pieces and he’d found himself looking at her paintings more and more. Getting a message from her when it felt like her stuff had been keeping him ticking though the weird podcast he’d been glued to, terrified of people finding out, especially that Mabel Mora. She had been one of Zoe’s friends and was hyper-focused on Tim’s murder. He worried about her just a bit, alongside his whole thing. He figured it wasn’t long before he was found out and was just trying to come to terms with the whole thing. Upon reading Callie’s message he was happy for her but a little sad. But, flattered. He felt a warmth in his chest as he reread her compliments of his work. He wanted to write more but was unsure about showing people at large. He liked Callie as his audience. She seemed to understand. He resigned himself to finish cleaning up but couldn’t bring himself to respond to the message. Not today.

2021 February 4

Theo was terrified and felt incredibly dirty. Mabel and Oliver had seen him. He’d had people see the horrible bullshit he was doing. For so incredibly long. His father’s dirty secret was potentially about to get dragged into the stark light of day. He was secretly excited about that but that excitement was eclipsed by how awful he felt about kidnapping Mabel and Oliver. As much as it sounded horrible, that's what he did. He wasn’t sure what to do. He’d driven and driven and driven and driven just hoping a solution would present itself. It hadn’t. But his father had. They had finally stopped in a dump and his father had picked them all up and threatened Mabel and Oliver. He knew acutely what that felt like. His father was a terrifying and exacting man. Theo desperately hoped they wouldn’t be intimidated like he always had been - and continued to be. When the two were finally dropped off, Theo sat silently as his father turned to him. They stayed parked outside the Arconia, the rumble of the engine seemed grounding.

“How did you not see them coming?!” Teddy signed furiously.

Theo looked down and shrugged, “I’m not sure”.

“We’ve stayed out of the line of professionals for years. But these amateurs? This is who finds us out. This is absurd. And your fault. How are you so incredibly stupid. I should have cut you out of this years ago. You were never up for it. Never. You’re useless”

“I’m sorry”

“USELESS”

“I’m sorry”

His father turned back toward the road, scowling and Theo could see him start shouting more expletives. Theo turned toward the window. As his father began to drive him back to his apartment Theo hoped with every fiber of his being that everything would come to light, even if it meant taking him down with it. When his father finally dropped him at his house Theo stumbled upstairs and after throwing the deadbolt and setting the alarm slumped into his bed fully clothed. He opened his messages to Callie.

Hi,

This week has been interesting but enough to give me a weird amount of hope, even when things are going terribly bad. There’s a strong chance I won’t be able to email for a bit but maybe maybe after everything is over I will be able to. If you still want me to.

~Orpheus

#mabel mora #theo dimas #omitb season 2 #theo x mabel #omitb spoilers #mabel mora x theo dimas #mordimas #theobel #au fic #part two came later rather than sooner #i gave them some more friends backstory. and also trauma. unfortunately. whoops #theobel fics

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