Legacy

Mending

Nathan

It was apparent to us all we could not stay at Marston's house for too long. We had not been caught yet, but it was only a matter of time if we stayed here. We needed the research, and we needed a new place to stay far away from England and the ministry's influence. I took a sip from my coffee and looked around. Suitcases were taking up most of the space in the living room; I still had no idea how Marston was going to bring them all with him. Astor was drinking some strange whiskey and tea mix. I had a feeling that was my fault. "We need to get Collingwood to France so he can retrieve the pages, and the rest of us need to get the hell out of England," Marston said. "So, where would we be traveling to?" Astor asked in return. "I have a place somewhere in Germany that might be a good option," Marston suggested pouring himself another glass of whiskey. I nodded that sounded like some plan.

The reality was that we were out on the deep waters, and sooner or later, the ministry would get to us. They always did. "And how is Nathan I mean Collingwood going to get to France?" Astor pondered out loud. I sighed; his insistence on using my last name again was frustrating. I understood he was mad at me still, but it was such a silly thing to hang up over, and yet it still hurt. I reached out for the whiskey, caring little that there was coffee left in my cup. Going back to Paris was a daunting idea to me, and while I had not voiced my doubts, I was also not sure if the university even had those papers anymore.

The ministry might have confiscated them, and even if they did not then, there was no guarantee that they would give me the documents back. In the end, I decided not to share my fears; neither of the two men seemed to care that much about how I felt. If anything, they both seemed pissed off at me. "I suggest we split up Collingwood, and I can travel to France while you Morse can travel to Germany first," Marston decided. Astor looked thoughtful at the suggestion giving the many suitcases in the room another glance before finally nodding. I was terrified of the idea, but I forced myself to take a deep breath and gave out an even: "Sure" as my response. With things decided, everything moved much faster. Astor was going to take a ship to Germany so he could bring all the suitcases while Marston and I would take the train to Paris and then from Paris find a boat going to Germany. The plan was simple enough, so I, of course, had little faith in it. Maybe it was this sense of foreboding that made me seek out Astor in private. I just really needed to clear the air if this was the last I was ever going to see him again.

Astor

The room Marston had provided was spartanly furnished with a single bed. I was battling my boredom as I waited for sleepiness to reach me. In my agitated state, I heard steps coming closer quickly. They were not the heavy clank sound of Marston boots, leaving only Nathan no Collingwood as the owner. At first, I ignored the knocks on the door. Not to be impolite, but alright, maybe it was rude, but I was not sure I wanted a private conversation with that man. The knocks stopped, but I could still hear him breathing on the other side of the door. As I shifted around a bit on the bed, I realized he was sitting and waiting for me out in the hallway like some lost child. In the end, I decided to take pity on the fool. I opened the door and told him to get in. He did it in a very hasty manner like he was scared someone was going to see him enter my room. As he got in, he stood around awkwardly, seeming to find the bed too intimate to sit on and not having any other options in the empty room. "So why are you visiting me in private mister Collingwood," I asked him to break the silence. He shifted his weight to the other foot, looking like a scolded child. I was just about to repeat my question when he finally replied: "I wanted to talk about what happened," he admitted. "Ok," I merely responded, shifting the conversation back to him. "Astor I am," he stumbled over his words as he tried to keep going: "I am sorry I well I did something wrong no what I did was wrong, and I am sorry and I," I stopped him there while cringing a bit over his less than a graceful apology. "What you did was wrong. I agree, but I do not think any amount of sorry's are going to ever really make up for it," as the words left my mouth. Nathan looked pained, fiddling with his bandaged shoulder. "But I am willing to move past it if you through your actions, not words are going to do better in the future," I concluded. "Ok," Nathan paused, trying to put together responses: "I will try and do that Astor," he promised me. I merely nodded. After that, we sat together on the bed for a bit and just talked. Nathan was deeply concerned about my sickness, a matter on which I could not reassure him. He also told me about his experiences in Paris, some tales which I honestly could do without due to the sheer embarrassing nature of them. His failed plan to get away from the police by hiding in an apple tree left me shaking my head. Still, it was nice having Nathan's more sporadic energy back in my life. Things had been a bit dull without him.