Chapter Text
This is a place where I don't feel alone
This is a place where I feel at home
To Build a Home-The Cinematic Orchestra
He woke up in the middle of the night. It wasn’t new, for him, in his whole life, he couldn’t remember a time he had slept all night.
And since when he had traveled in the future, it had been even worse. He couldn’t believe that his life could become even more difficult than before, but he had to change his mind: his first months in the 21 st century had been the worst of his brief but intense life. He had to strive every day to find food, water, safety, all things he had always given for granted.
But a thing that even in a million years he thought would have bothered him was the loneliness.
There was a time when he craved loneliness like the air he breathed: he was always with someone, his father, his sister, the clients at the tavern… there was always something to do, someone to serve, someone giving orders.
There were two places he would go to find peace: the woods and the stables. He used to run there whenever he could, hiding, pretending to not hear his father calling him with that usual bothered tone, or Agnes calling him to ask him to play with her.
But after barely one month in that new and unfriendly world, he missed being with someone; sometimes he felt so lonely and missed home so much that he was tempted to find a way to travel back. He couldn’t believe he could miss home.
Fuck he even missed Agnes. He would have given everything just to be bothered by her again.
Until Elisabeth arrived in his life.
His heart stopped and he almost crumbled on the ground the night he came back to the cave just to find her there, covered in blood, shaking like a leaf, unable to tell him what happened. In the previous days, he knew something bad would have happened to her, and even though he had never been very religious, he prayed that whatever would have happened, it wouldn’t have been something terrible.
His prayers hadn’t been answered.
She had remained in silence for three days before writing something on her bloc-note.
Hungry.
A week after, she told him everything: about her father, about how she had to kill that monster… and nothing could prepare him for the anger and the rage that invaded his whole body. That blind need to protect her at all costs that would have never left him, he knew.
He didn’t even know her, yet, but he already knew that he would have died before letting someone harm her again.
They had been living together, side by side, for six months, three weeks and three days, now. He knew it because he had meticulously kept trace of the time in his diary, writing the date and the progress in digging the tunnels.
They slept with their bedrolls next to each other, it was the only way to keep her calm and to make her feel safe, so she could sleep. She would have never asked, obviously, but he knew she felt safer with him even though she was too proud to admit it, so he casually proposed to sleep with their bedrolls next to each other, saying that there was no need to waste space and she agreed with a brief nod.
And in those nights it had become a habit, for him, to wake up and check on her, to see if she was sleeping fine, the instinct to watching over her.
But that night was different because when he turned around, she wasn’t there.
His heart stopped while he quickly sat, taking the flashlight next to him and checking the room, breathing heavily.
She wasn’t there.
His mind went blank, his only thought was a series of no no no no no no, going on repeat in his head.
He quickly kicked away the sheets, standing up, checking every corner of the hole.
“Elisabeth!” he called, out loud, closing his eyes with frustration once he realized she couldn’t hear him anyway.
It was hard to get used to that new kind of communication: he kept calling for her sometimes or talking while turning his back, unintentionally preventing her to read his lips and she always had to clap her hand to make him look at her, one day she was in a particularly bad mood and even threw a rock at him when he did that for the umpteenth time. He became stupid when she was around.
From outside, the sound of the rain arrived clear at him, so he took his raincoat to go find her. He took a step outside and with a sigh of relief, he realized she was there, right in front of him, sat with her leg crossed, looking absentmindedly at the rain falling down.
She had that look on her face, the look that for him meant that she was thinking about something that she usually never shared with him.
Elisabeth had never properly told it out loud, but she wasn’t happy. He knew that, it didn’t even take a genius to tell it.
She missed her family, she missed her life. Noah had always known he would have traveled to the future, it was his mission, his calling, he had even longed for that moment, but she was different. She was just a girl who had lost his lightheartedness forever and now had to grow as fast as she could. A girl that has had to leave her easy, comforting life to find herself in a living hell.
And the worst thing was that he felt useless. He couldn’t make her happy, couldn’t make her feel better, feel at home: the only thing he could do was providing her food and keep her safe, and he knew that those were the only reasons why she hadn’t leave him, yet.
For a moment he wanted to tell her something, scold her for disappearing like that, but he knew that it was probably the last thing she needed at that time, so he simply sat near her in the same position, his legs crossed on the wet ground.
You afraid me. He tried to sign.
She started to teach him how to sign only a month before, they dedicated barely one hour a day to the lessons, so he was still at the basics.
I scared you. She corrected him, with a severe look on her face.
They remained still for almost a minute, Noah looking at her with a worried look, realizing he wasn’t able to help her in that difficult time.
It’s raining she signed why is always raining?
The weather needs to fix Noah replied, receiving a stink eye from her.
He smiled, shaking his head.
Sorry he signed I no understand jokes
She signed something, but to him it was only frantic moves of her little hands, he didn’t understand anything.
I don't’ understand he signed.
Nothing she replied.
She hated it when he couldn’t understand, usually dropping the topic and going away.
“no,” he said out loud, shaking his head and caressing her arm "tell me"
Then he raised a hand, silently telling her to wai and took his bloc-note from his pocket.
Please, tell me. I want to know what you were saying.
She took the note and didn’t even reply. So he wrote again.
Please
She sighed and started writing on the piece of paper, giving it to him once she had finished.
My dad used to tell the worst jokes. They never made me smile, but now I miss
them.
He swallowed, doing his best to not look at her with sorrow or pity, she hated that.
Tell me about him, he seemed a good man
Elisabeth took the bloc-note and started writing, it took her a bit, so he understood it must have been a long note, maybe the longest since they met.
She looked so concentrated while writing and he couldn’t hold a soft chuckle. He took her note in his hands, looking at the tidy handwriting, her handwriting.
He taught me everything I know. He was the one who insisted to make me learn sign language: everyone kept telling me I had to learn how to talk but I hated it, I hated my voice, so I never spoke. Until he made me learn how to sign, he said that I didn’t have to demonstrate anything, I didn’t have to be like the others, to be happy
He smiled while he read the note, quickly replying.
You’re lucky, my father had never taught me anything.
She asked him with a gesture of her hand to pass her the bloc-notes.
Do you miss your family?
Sometimes he replied, signing and then return to write on the bloc-note:
Especially before I met you. Living alone in a place like this can be hard.
She looked at him with a tenderness he had never seen in her, or in anyone else.
You’re not alone, anymore.
He smiled and giggled a little.
I know he signed for her.
She started writing something and then gave him the bloc-notes.
My parents and my sister were the only people who had never treated me like I was different, I was only Elisabeth
He chose carefully the words for his reply.
In paradise, you will see them again and you’ll be with them forever. But until then, I can be your family, if you want. I will never compare to your parents or your sister, but we are together in this mess, after all. I’ll learn to sign so we won’t need this bloc-note.
She smiled, reading.
You don’t have to.
He knew she would have said something like that, so his reply was fast.
I know. I want to. I want to be able to talk to you, properly talk to you.
She smiled again, without answering.
Are you in?
He wrote, then.
Elisabeth nodded, with an amused expression on his little face.
Let’s begin, then
He suggested.
Now?
She asked, with a surprised look on her face, and something told him she was used to people promise her something without really meaning it. Obviously she didn’t know him, he would have died before breaking his word.
He smiled at her, as he wrote.
Do you have something better to do?