[2/2] Echoes from the past [COMPLETE]

The taller man ignored the medic’s comment. He’s said his piece, he wasn’t going to start an argument that would go in circles when they had a target to locate and reap. Where was this target of theirs…? Surely it would be difficult to hide in such an open space.

As Joakim walked, he squinted in the direction of the undertaker’s hut. His brows furrowed. He had a dislike of undertakers, but this really wasn’t the time and place to be discussing such trivial things. Joakim really should have paid attention to whatever was happening behind him, though.

Behind the viking, their target sitting atop the mausoleum lifted his gaze from the gun to the open space before him. This was the last thing he would see in his living moments. Not his family, not his girlfriend, not his friends… but this place meant for the dead. He was going to join them soon, anyway. Taking a shaky breath, the mortal brought the gun up and pressed it against his temple.

He was left-handed.

His heart was pounding. Was this… fear?

His eyes met a pair of mint-green ones looking right at him.

It was like looking at a mirror.

Quietly, he laughed to himself, tears welling up in his eyes. Was this some kind of near-death delusion? Death’s way of showing him how it would be like if he saw himself commit suicide? Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to change his mind.

It has been 15 minutes, and the mortal smiled at Grim, almost kindly.

“Auf wiedersehen.”


A single gunshot rang through the air, their eyes locked as the life left the mortal. The tightly bound bundle of white thread attached to him unraveled, shining a brilliant crimson as if stained by the blood that no longer ran in his veins. His eyes were no longer focused as his body fell like a rag doll off of the mausoleum, even as Grim stared on and the young man’s lifeless form crumpled on the ground.

The sound jolted Joakim, making the taller man turn to see where the sound was coming from. He could see the red glow by the mausoleum, though. That must be where their target is. A suicide victim, eh? Well, this should be easy--

Wait.

Grim fell to his knees. He was in pain. He was CRYING.

Looking between their target and Grim, Joakim gritted his teeth and hurried over to his teammate, dropping his duffel bag and dropping to one knee to yank his hands and glasses away from his face. Red scratch marks marred Grim’s pale face, and Joakim growled. There was fear in those wide, green eyes. They were looking right at him, but his gaze was so distant, like he was watching his life flash before his eyes, “Shh…! Hey…! “ letting go of Grim’s wrists, he cupped the young man’s wet cheeks in his hands, maintaining eye contact as if telling Grim to focus on him.

Did something trigger him? What had caused him to--

Then it clicked.

Grim refused to tell him why he was afraid of explosions just last week. Could the gunshot have triggered him? Would even being in this cemetery, surrounded by tombstones that may well parallel the unmarked graves of dead soldiers in World War 1, worsen his condition?

Against his better judgment, he pulled Grim into a hug to block his view of the surroundings. With one hand, he covered one of Grim’s ears and with the other, he rubbed the younger man’s back in what he thought would be a soothing gesture, “Grim, listen to me. Everything’s alright. What you’re seeing is in the past. You’re past all that, they’re just your memories…” he murmured, every now and again glancing back at the red glow of death as if to make sure it was still there.

They needed to reap him, but he wasn’t going to leave Grim in the hysterical state he was in.

“Grim, look at me.” He pulled away from the hug to look at Grim again, keeping his hands firmly on the medic’s shoulders, “We need to reap that person, alright?” he cocked his head in the direction of their target, “I want you to stay close to the gates over there,” he motions to the exit behind the blonde, “I’ll go reap that guy and join you in a sec. Can you do that for me?”

He got a nod out of him, which was a good start. A response was good in general. Joakim managed a smile, something he didn't do very often and gave the younger man's arm a light, reassuring squeeze, "Good." picking up Grim's glasses from the ground, he placed it in the medic's slightly shaking hands, "Here, wipe these and I'll be back by the time you put them on." Distracting him with small tasks may be able to get his mind off of hings, however temporarily. Once again, Joakim turned, if only to remove his axe from his duffel bag. It snapped to its full length with a metallic sound as the viking shouldered the heavy-looking weapon.

The leather bag left behind, Joakim strode over to the fallen suicide victim. Almost immediately he saw how Grim could have been affected so badly. The young man lacked Grim's beauty mark, glasses and signature eye color, not to mention the victim may have been a few inches taller, but otherwise he was an almost exact replica of Grim. Hermann Weiss was his name. Sighing, Joakim concentrated on the red string floating around the body instead, "Time to get to work..."

With a swift swing, the thread was cut. The deed was done.

Another metallic snap, and the axe folded itself in half once more to make it easier for Joakim to carry it. All that was left was to write up Hermann's reap report and file him away, maybe hope he doesn't return as an Apprentice. Turning on his heel, Joakim returned to Grim's side, finding the medic only just begin to slip his glasses back on as he picked up his neglected bag and 'sheathed' his axe before slinging it over his shoulder.

"We're done here..." he said softly, holding his hand out to the blonde, "Can you stand?" even if Grim couldn't, nothing was stopping him from carrying the smaller man, but it was more polite to ask, and it was best to be gentle with people who were just recovering their memories, he found. He just wasn't sure if Grim wanted to go back to HQ as soon as possible or if he wanted to clear his head here first. Whatever the young man wanted to do, Joakim would stick around. Or leave, if that was what Grim wanted.

He watched as Grim struggled to get on his feet and counted backwards from 10. If Grim didn't take a step after that... Well, time's up. He slipped his bag off of his shoulder, letting it rest against his leg before grabbing both of Grim's wrists, lifting him clear off the ground and swinging him lightly towards his back and pulling Grim's arms over his shoulders like he was wearing a backpack, "Shut up and just hang on, you took too long, brat." he tried to make it sound like everything was alright, that everything was just like any other day where they went to take on a reap order together. Keeping his grip on one of Grim's wrists, he reached back to find Grim's knee, pulling it against his side before doing the same to his other knee.

Once Grim was settled on his back, Joakim bent down carefully to grab the straps of his bag, carrying it with him that way with one hand under Grim's knee, "Alright... Off we go." he announced lightly as he strode out of there, letting other mortals deal with the body they were leaving behind. They were out of that cemetery. No more reminders of the dead. No more going back in there unless they had another reap order. He walked down the least crowded street, whistling a tune under his breath to lighten the mood. It was a tune his brother would whistle, a little song that he wrote, but didn't have the vocal capabilities to sing it himself.

It always lifted his spirits some whenever Kjeld whistled it to him. He could only hope it gave the same effect to Grim. He would have started a conversation, but right now, they didn't need any words. Just a bit of a walk on a nice summer day and the sound of Joakim's whistling on the gentle summer breeze.

He heard Grim mumble his name. Followed by another name. 'Victor'? Who was that? 'No guns' was a no brainer, of course. Grim didn't like guns, that much was certain. Looking over his shoulder at the smaller man, Joakim paused in his whistling to ask, "Who's Victor? Someone you knew?" He waited for a moment. There was no reply, and so Joakim assumed Grim to be asleep. Might as well, these episodes really took a lot out of you.

So he let the medic sleep. Before they wrapped up their trip, Joakim purchased some food and drinks for them though. Grim was bound to get hungry and thirsty when he got up. Even if he doesn't feel like eating or drinking, Joakim could use some. With the purchases made and their presences forgotten, Joakim plucked the petals from his chrysanthemum and stepped through the portal that resulted from it.

He ignored the looks that he got from the other Apprentices, told a few curious ones that Grim was just tired, and warned others that he could still draw his axe if they insisted on teasing him about this whole situation. So he was being nice to a teammate, so what? It was his job, and they should just shut the fck up, mind their own business or something. Once he got to their dorm, Joakim looked up at Grim's bunk. He can't exactly throw the younger man up to the top bunk, as easy as that sounded and as much as he would have done that if he didn't know Grim was in a state where he needed to be handled carefully.

So he opted to tuck Grim in his bed instead. Tucking him in Shorinaga's bed might wake him from the lingering smell of coffee. It wasn't bad, but Shorinaga's brews had a strong scent to it, and that could wake Grim unnecessarily. At times like these, Apprentices need their rest the most. They're at their most vulnerable, at their weakest, and the only one to be able to inflict this kind of hurt to them is none other than their own memories. Joakim sat at the foot of his bed, looking at Grim's sleeping form for a moment before reaching over and removing his glasses from the front of his shirt. He placed this on the dinky table they had, and sighed.

Was this what Kjeld had to go through whenever Joakim had one of his episodes? He recalled having them well into his 500th year of apprenticeship, well into the times when Kjeld was his teammate. They only stopped around 300 years ago, when they stopped tormenting him and replaced his nights with dreamless sleep. He got off the bed a short while later, deciding Grim should rest, and while he was a little sleepy himself, Joakim settled down at the window seat, crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. Maybe a 10-minute nap would do. The subway sandwich he bought earlier on did smell pretty nice.

10 minutes was up. Or was it 20? Joakim was bad at telling. Sometimes his naps would last 5 minutes. Other times he'd outright sleep. Joakim inhaled deeply as he opened his eyes and shifted in his seat, deciding that he slept enough. Now seemed like a good time to have that sandwich, anyway.

Swinging his legs off of the window seat, he noticed that Grim was sitting upright against the wall of his bunk, "You're up," it was more of a statement than a question as he motioned to one of the drawers he left open on his bed.

Placed in an empty spot in the slightly open drawer were a few subway sandwiches, some chocolate bars and a few canned drinks, "There's some food if you're hungry. ...You feeling alright?" he could have done without asking that last question, but he might as well ask. It'd give him a good idea of Grim's current condition.

IF Grim doesn't lie to him, that is.

The smile was a strained one. It was one that Kjeld wore sometimes, and to this day, Joakim wondered why. He regretted not asking before Kjeld disappeared, or ascended as he was led to believe. At least Grim was kind of forward with saying that he wasn't quite okay. Joakim raised a brow when Grim asked for water though, and crouched down just as Grim made a sound like he was stopping the larger man, as if thinking the viking was going to leave, "Yeah, sure. Gimme a sec," Joakim pulled the drawer out a little more, and two small bottles of water rolled out. It looked like this was where Joakim kept snacks in case he was hungry and didn't feel like going out. Grabbing one of the bottles and twisting the cap open, he held it out to the medic and grabbed his sandwich before sitting on the bed and taking a bite out of it.

He munched on his food, shifting in his seat so he was on his bed with Grim, he leaned back against the wall, "You look like shit." It wasn't meant to be an insult. He was simply pointing out the obvious, "Good thing Ams and Shori aren't here, huh? It sucks, getting hit by your own memories like that. I was there." he meant for his words to be reassuring, and he hoped he sounded it, "Wanna talk about it? My brother used to have me talk it out with him back when he was around. Might not be the best way to deal with it, but it sure helped me out." another bite of his sandwich, tentative chewing and swallowing before Joakim finished, "Then maybe we can get your face looked at. Bet that stings like a bitch."

Joakim merely watched while Grim glared at him for his off-handed comment. What? It was true. The kid has seen better days, and neither of them could deny that. Hell, all of them has seen better days. Joakim shrugged at Grim as if saying, 'Well, if the shoe fits.' The glare he got was pretty much the confirmation he needed that Grim (grudgingly) agreed and just didn't want him saying it out loud.

He listened while Grim spoke. That was common, not remembering what happened when you died. Joakim himself didn't remember how he died until he reaped someone who was executed via guillotine. Damn, when he saw that happen, the world spun on him, and it felt like his head was on fire. He remembered kicking a concerned teammate away from him while his body relived the moment the axe cut through his jugular, his windpipe, his spine.

It wasn't fun, and it definitely wasn't painless. Glancing over at Grim, he wondered... "Well, the only thing that comes to mind is that you may have been shot." Reaching up, he rested his hand on Grim's head, petting him almost like he would a cat, a slow, rhythmic petting with just a bit of pressure to relieve headaches slightly if the younger man had one.

It didn't last very long, mainly because it felt weird to do that. Looking straight ahead once more, Joakim went back to his sandwich, "...Regardless of the circumstances when you died, I'm sorry it had to happen-- and stop that." He didn't have to look at Grim to know he touched his face again. The viking could see him wincing out of the corner of his eye.

Sighing, Joakim wrapped his food and placed it beside him before bringing a knee up and resting his arm on it, "Do you want to go to the infirmary now or do you just want a first aid kit? I'll go get one if you just need the kit."