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chiron_survivorWinter continued its reign on Atlantis, but all around, there were signs that spring was coming.
Songbirds returned to the woods, their chirps and whistles filling the air. Crocuses began to push their way out of the ground. Humans spent time in the growing daylight hours preparing the fields and their own gardens for the coming season.
There were signs that Caspar was getting better, too. He stopped freezing Adia out, or pretending he was okay when he wasn’t. Like a thawing river, he let his thoughts and emotions out, little by little, until he could share what was on his mind with her freely. The nightmares lessened, as did his desire to project.
At least, not without including her.
Every evening, he held casual lessons with her, encouraging her to explore her newfound ability. It wasn’t long before she could reliably enter his projection. She could even dismiss it if she concentrated hard enough on the real world around her. It was a unique experience, immersing herself in what was essentially a shared hallucination, but also being aware of the reality behind it.
Creating her own projection, however, continued to elude her.
She tried closing her eyes and imagining a scene in vivid detail. She tried describing it in her head. She tried describing it out loud. She tried meditating and keeping her mind clear. She even tried while pressing a hand to the back of her head, as if her moon rune was a button she could push to turn on the projection.
All she got for her efforts was a headache and yet another failed attempt.
~*~
It was mid-March, in the middle of another lesson. Adia sat at the kitchen table, her eyes squeezed shut while she imagined an elaborate garden. She pictured the rows of colorful flowers in bloom, the air heavy with their fragrance, the soil rich and crumbly as she pinched a bit between her fingers.
Cautiously, she opened her eyes, then sighed in disappointment when she was greeted with the familiar sight of their cabin. “Did you sense anything?” she asked Caspar, who was sitting across from her.
“No, sorry.” The cabin around them disappeared, replaced with his projection of a relaxing coffee shop. The smell of mocha hit her nose immediately as Caspar lifted up his mug and took a sip. Electronic lounge music played in the background. “What were you trying for? The garden again?”
Adia nodded sullenly, looking down at her drink that he thoughtfully imagined for her. There was even a dollop of chocolate whipped cream on top. She frowned and didn’t touch it.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He smiled at her encouragingly. “You’re doing amazing.”
“No, I’m not,” she complained. “I’ve been at this for a whole month and I still can’t project on my own.”
“Wow, it’s been that long already?” Caspar’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “You’re right, you should be so much better by now at something that’s normally impossible for humans. My bad.”
The playful sarcasm only annoyed her. “I’ve been trying really hard and nothing’s worked, Caspar. It’s not funny.”
“I never said it was,” Caspar replied, his tone gentle. He reached out and offered a hand, which she took automatically. “You’re learning a completely new ability, one technically you shouldn’t even be able to do. And you’ve already accomplished so much. You need to be easier on yourself. You’ll get it, if you remember to relax and be patient.”
It was what she needed to hear, even if she didn’t entirely believe it herself. “Okay.” She squeezed his hand. “Sorry for getting so frustrated.”
“Don’t be. I’ll always be here to help.” He grinned. “Besides, your pout is adorable.”
She made a face, which made him laugh, which made her laugh. She let go of his hand so she could shake the both of hers out, then place them flat on the table. “I want to try again.”
“You sure? That’s a very nice mocha I made for you.”
She nodded and he silently dismissed the projection. “I want to remind you about something,” he told her as she got comfortable in her chair. “Cylons project because what we want to see is more comforting or interesting than where we are. Basestars are boring. We use our imaginations to visit places that make us happy. Try to focus on the feeling the place evokes instead of just what it looks or feels like.”
With another nod, she closed her eyes and considered his advice as she imagined a garden in full bloom. Gardens made her happy… well, and nostalgic. The tulips especially. Her mind wandered as she thought about those tulips, all lined up in a row. Just like the tulip fields she’d pass on the way to Nana’s house. Vast swaths of color, laid out like a giant quilt. The orange ones were her favorite. So vibrant, so full of life… they always filled her with a longing for something greater than herself…
“Adia,” Caspar said softly. “Adia, open your eyes.”
She did. And she was there.
Sitting on a bench, staring out at a vast tulip field. Bold oranges and yellows, pink pastels and blushing reds greeted her eyes. She smelled their sweet fragrance, felt the warmth of sunlight on her skin, heard the buzz of bees as they visited flower after endless flower.
“Oh…” It was her memory brought to life, but brighter and crisper. “Is… is this me? Am I doing this?”
She looked at Caspar, sitting beside her on the bench, his patient smile full of wonder. “Told you that you’d get it.”
A giggle escaped her throat as she looked around. “It’s just like I remembered… but better somehow.” She thought about why that might be, then gave him a giddy smile. “Because you’re here, right? I’m sharing this with you. That’s what makes it special.”
“You’re what makes it special,” he replied quietly, leaning in to brush his lips against her cheek. “I’m just the lucky bastard who gets the honor of being here.”
He got off the bench and dropped to one knee in front of her. “I’ve got something to ask you,” he told her as he reached into his blazer’s pocket, a look of determination on his face.
She realized what was going on the moment he pulled out a ring. It was a moment she had admittedly fantasized about a few times, and without meaning to, she blurted out: “Yes!”
Caspar stared at her in exasperation, mouth hanging open. “Adia, come on! At least let me ask the question first!”
“Sorry!” She clasped a hand over her mouth, fighting back the urge to laugh. Or cry, she wasn’t sure. Either way, she could feel herself trembling, overwhelmed but only in the best of ways. She kept as still as she could while Caspar regained his concentration.
“Adia.” He smiled up at her with that look of pure adoration that she had seen so many times before, but always seemed to hit her heart like a bullseye, each and every time. “From the moment I came back into your life, I knew that I never wanted to leave it again. If you’ll have me, I’d like to make that official.” He held up the ring. “Will you marry m—“
“Yes!” she blurted out again from behind her hand, before dropping it. “Yes, yes, of course! Always, Caspar, always and forever, I want to be with you.”
And then she did start sobbing, except she wasn’t the least bit embarrassed, because it was the only way she could make room for all that happiness that was filling her chest.
He slipped the ring onto her trembling left hand. “Always a good sign when your girl bursts into tears when you propose,” he joked, although she could tell that he was trying his hardest not to cry, too.
She wiped at her eyes and laughed, then slid off the bench so that she could hug him properly. Her projection faded around her, returning them to the ground of their warm little cabin. Gone were the tulips, the sunshine, the bees.
The ring remained.
She pulled back and examined the shiny metal ring upon her finger. Its gems were the same brilliant orange as the tulips in her projection. “Where did you get this ring?” she asked in amazement.
“I had Hunter custom make it,” he replied, watching her. “Do you like it?”
“I love it. Hunter did such a lovely job…” She blinked, then looked at him in surprise. “How long have you had this ring?”
“Since before the Winter Solstice.” He looked away, suddenly ashamed. “I wanted to ask you on New Year’s Eve, but… well, you know…”
Any residual guilt she felt from telling Ellen to stay out of their lives got tossed out like yesterday’s garbage. She took Caspar’s face in both her hands.“I would have said yes,” she declared, before kissing him tenderly.
“I know,” he sighed happily in a breath between their lips. “But, damn, how I love it when I hear it from you.”
Songbirds returned to the woods, their chirps and whistles filling the air. Crocuses began to push their way out of the ground. Humans spent time in the growing daylight hours preparing the fields and their own gardens for the coming season.
There were signs that Caspar was getting better, too. He stopped freezing Adia out, or pretending he was okay when he wasn’t. Like a thawing river, he let his thoughts and emotions out, little by little, until he could share what was on his mind with her freely. The nightmares lessened, as did his desire to project.
At least, not without including her.
Every evening, he held casual lessons with her, encouraging her to explore her newfound ability. It wasn’t long before she could reliably enter his projection. She could even dismiss it if she concentrated hard enough on the real world around her. It was a unique experience, immersing herself in what was essentially a shared hallucination, but also being aware of the reality behind it.
Creating her own projection, however, continued to elude her.
She tried closing her eyes and imagining a scene in vivid detail. She tried describing it in her head. She tried describing it out loud. She tried meditating and keeping her mind clear. She even tried while pressing a hand to the back of her head, as if her moon rune was a button she could push to turn on the projection.
All she got for her efforts was a headache and yet another failed attempt.
~*~
It was mid-March, in the middle of another lesson. Adia sat at the kitchen table, her eyes squeezed shut while she imagined an elaborate garden. She pictured the rows of colorful flowers in bloom, the air heavy with their fragrance, the soil rich and crumbly as she pinched a bit between her fingers.
Cautiously, she opened her eyes, then sighed in disappointment when she was greeted with the familiar sight of their cabin. “Did you sense anything?” she asked Caspar, who was sitting across from her.
“No, sorry.” The cabin around them disappeared, replaced with his projection of a relaxing coffee shop. The smell of mocha hit her nose immediately as Caspar lifted up his mug and took a sip. Electronic lounge music played in the background. “What were you trying for? The garden again?”
Adia nodded sullenly, looking down at her drink that he thoughtfully imagined for her. There was even a dollop of chocolate whipped cream on top. She frowned and didn’t touch it.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He smiled at her encouragingly. “You’re doing amazing.”
“No, I’m not,” she complained. “I’ve been at this for a whole month and I still can’t project on my own.”
“Wow, it’s been that long already?” Caspar’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “You’re right, you should be so much better by now at something that’s normally impossible for humans. My bad.”
The playful sarcasm only annoyed her. “I’ve been trying really hard and nothing’s worked, Caspar. It’s not funny.”
“I never said it was,” Caspar replied, his tone gentle. He reached out and offered a hand, which she took automatically. “You’re learning a completely new ability, one technically you shouldn’t even be able to do. And you’ve already accomplished so much. You need to be easier on yourself. You’ll get it, if you remember to relax and be patient.”
It was what she needed to hear, even if she didn’t entirely believe it herself. “Okay.” She squeezed his hand. “Sorry for getting so frustrated.”
“Don’t be. I’ll always be here to help.” He grinned. “Besides, your pout is adorable.”
She made a face, which made him laugh, which made her laugh. She let go of his hand so she could shake the both of hers out, then place them flat on the table. “I want to try again.”
“You sure? That’s a very nice mocha I made for you.”
She nodded and he silently dismissed the projection. “I want to remind you about something,” he told her as she got comfortable in her chair. “Cylons project because what we want to see is more comforting or interesting than where we are. Basestars are boring. We use our imaginations to visit places that make us happy. Try to focus on the feeling the place evokes instead of just what it looks or feels like.”
With another nod, she closed her eyes and considered his advice as she imagined a garden in full bloom. Gardens made her happy… well, and nostalgic. The tulips especially. Her mind wandered as she thought about those tulips, all lined up in a row. Just like the tulip fields she’d pass on the way to Nana’s house. Vast swaths of color, laid out like a giant quilt. The orange ones were her favorite. So vibrant, so full of life… they always filled her with a longing for something greater than herself…
“Adia,” Caspar said softly. “Adia, open your eyes.”
She did. And she was there.
Sitting on a bench, staring out at a vast tulip field. Bold oranges and yellows, pink pastels and blushing reds greeted her eyes. She smelled their sweet fragrance, felt the warmth of sunlight on her skin, heard the buzz of bees as they visited flower after endless flower.
“Oh…” It was her memory brought to life, but brighter and crisper. “Is… is this me? Am I doing this?”
She looked at Caspar, sitting beside her on the bench, his patient smile full of wonder. “Told you that you’d get it.”
A giggle escaped her throat as she looked around. “It’s just like I remembered… but better somehow.” She thought about why that might be, then gave him a giddy smile. “Because you’re here, right? I’m sharing this with you. That’s what makes it special.”
“You’re what makes it special,” he replied quietly, leaning in to brush his lips against her cheek. “I’m just the lucky bastard who gets the honor of being here.”
He got off the bench and dropped to one knee in front of her. “I’ve got something to ask you,” he told her as he reached into his blazer’s pocket, a look of determination on his face.
She realized what was going on the moment he pulled out a ring. It was a moment she had admittedly fantasized about a few times, and without meaning to, she blurted out: “Yes!”
Caspar stared at her in exasperation, mouth hanging open. “Adia, come on! At least let me ask the question first!”
“Sorry!” She clasped a hand over her mouth, fighting back the urge to laugh. Or cry, she wasn’t sure. Either way, she could feel herself trembling, overwhelmed but only in the best of ways. She kept as still as she could while Caspar regained his concentration.
“Adia.” He smiled up at her with that look of pure adoration that she had seen so many times before, but always seemed to hit her heart like a bullseye, each and every time. “From the moment I came back into your life, I knew that I never wanted to leave it again. If you’ll have me, I’d like to make that official.” He held up the ring. “Will you marry m—“
“Yes!” she blurted out again from behind her hand, before dropping it. “Yes, yes, of course! Always, Caspar, always and forever, I want to be with you.”
And then she did start sobbing, except she wasn’t the least bit embarrassed, because it was the only way she could make room for all that happiness that was filling her chest.
He slipped the ring onto her trembling left hand. “Always a good sign when your girl bursts into tears when you propose,” he joked, although she could tell that he was trying his hardest not to cry, too.
She wiped at her eyes and laughed, then slid off the bench so that she could hug him properly. Her projection faded around her, returning them to the ground of their warm little cabin. Gone were the tulips, the sunshine, the bees.
The ring remained.
She pulled back and examined the shiny metal ring upon her finger. Its gems were the same brilliant orange as the tulips in her projection. “Where did you get this ring?” she asked in amazement.
“I had Hunter custom make it,” he replied, watching her. “Do you like it?”
“I love it. Hunter did such a lovely job…” She blinked, then looked at him in surprise. “How long have you had this ring?”
“Since before the Winter Solstice.” He looked away, suddenly ashamed. “I wanted to ask you on New Year’s Eve, but… well, you know…”
Any residual guilt she felt from telling Ellen to stay out of their lives got tossed out like yesterday’s garbage. She took Caspar’s face in both her hands.“I would have said yes,” she declared, before kissing him tenderly.
“I know,” he sighed happily in a breath between their lips. “But, damn, how I love it when I hear it from you.”
