mid_nite_green | Dreaming

"Bull. My skills are welcome. They're really damn good, too."

"Something's up. Black Mercy is a bitch, but it offers perspective. My family...they were not even there. My whole life has always been focused on trying to make them proud. So much so, Sand probably still thinks I'm an idiot. I know Amelia would dance on this fact and throw bouquets."

"They're also hiding something. No proof. Just gut."

"Well what a thing to say," she cackles, finding the cellophane packaging very interesting just now.

"For the record, you are an idiot, and Amelia would, and she'd be right. You still think your 'skills' were what it was all about? Pssht. Fine. Tastes a little like castor oil, but fine."

A dismembered marshmallow bunny ear gets thrown at Tara. "Duh. No one's 'normal', Tara, especially the ones that try really hard to look it. Try not to take it too hard, which is a completely different thing than leaving it alone.

An eyebrow raises, and she eats the ear with much theatrics. "Baby bunny! I get evil points."

"There's more than that though. Those superhero instincts are buzzing."

"Sorry, I'm bitching, and you're probably above bitching now." she bites her lip. "I'm going home, Corrine. To the Outsiders if I live through whatever Travis is doing. Is it really possible for things to be different?"

"Not above it, just-- well." She laughs despite herself. It's really not nice, but she's never been good at controlling that anyhow.

"I started out in superhero hysterics when the Helm of Nabu fell in my lap. Someone used me to hit the 'reset' button on the world when I was twenty-three. I ran away from home and eventually died protecting my daughter. I ran away from home and attained domestic bliss. I swallowed half the world in fire and led my family and an army of demons through the gates of Heaven. Sand and I had a beautiful little 'Wes' with one happily on the way. I had twins you raised to good, honest, caring heroes when Sand and I died. It all happened, and it didn't. You're going to have to explain what you mean by 'different.'"

She blinks.

"None of that was the Black Mercy, was it?"

"Maybe one, but that says something, right? Haven't you seen enough to know that answer, or don't you like it?"

With a pat to her own skirt, she 'poofs' away the fairy-tale clothes to street clothes. "Life is like apparel. Sometimes you need different functions, and things can change without the old one being worthless."

"Not a matter of like," she mutters in awe. "It's that it made sense. It's all starting to make sense."

"When I came back, something Sand said made sense, but I didn't know how. I left it alone. Then a dream started clicking things for me, but I lost it too quickly. Some are better at reading the signs than others. I know now there's folks that see way more than me.

"What you keep forgetting is that you're good at taking care of people. You made the skills, not the other way around. You can weather 'different.' How else would you have survived life on base?"

"You," she admits. "I...remember something Roy - Arsenal - said on the whole matter that was pretty similar. More snark though. I waffle on it. I think the thing I'm worried about in all this is losing what I was always taught mattered the most."

She looks down. "For you, the Outsiders were about finding your soul. I thought I had one, but...I do have one. It's just everything I've ever been taught mattered is either wrong, or has this lens on it. If I take off those glasses, I'm not sure how I'm going to see." She tilts her head. "Did great things for you. I'm not you."

Tara never will give herself enough credit. It's endearing and frustrating. Corrine grimaces, then smirks. "If you actually bought that act of mine, you're worse than I thought," she says.

"Tara, I had to fight everything I'd ever been taught mattered, too. It wasn't easy or pleasant. In the end, I learned it wasn't all wrong. And what's wrong with life through that lens, as long as you know and recognize that there's more? Of all the things in the world, you could be a firefighter, or a cop, or a figure skater. You chose to be a doctor, but it doesn't mean you're ignorant to other skills, or somehow deficient because those aren't the paths you chose. It's called adapting--"

She leans into Tara and nudges her playfully with a grin. "Like, that 'cope and move on' thing you nailed through my skull? A little like that?"

That path feels more and more chosen for her. Nona Renee was sick, and she had to care for her. The family saw security within her skills and preached them often. It's what she's doing as a doctor which is completely unexpected.

Tara is not a touchy-feely sort. In her dream, she takes Corrine - her guide - around the shoulders. She leans in and rests her head on hers. Amazing thing. She can smell her hair. She never bothered to get closer then she had to to treat her teammates then what was needed to heal. Bad thought. Selfish. "Stop swearing I'm the smart one."

Dreaming

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