#again most of the problems could have been avoided if jonathan had the capacity of apologising and considering people other than himself

[several-ravens]

thank you tim for telling jonathan what i've been saying for a week

"shut up" and "fuck you" and that a bit of sympathy would have been nice and that he should have been fired weeks ago

but somehow it didn't feel right

[bubonickitten]

MAG 167 spoilers

I am once again back to obsessing over Gertrude and Jon as narrative foils!!

And just – the narrative does such a great job of using that foil to illustrate Jon’s neverending struggle with his own humanity. Because although Gertrude didn’t embrace her Archivist powers in the same way that Jon sometimes does, she was arguably monstrous in her own way -- in ways that Jon ultimately isn’t. 

I keep thinking back to Jon’s conversation with Gerry, in particular this bit:

GERARD: Well, she could make people tell her stuff, sometimes. They’d suddenly get real talkative, and lay out whatever she needed. She didn’t do it often though. I don’t think she liked it.

JON: Oh, er, I can do that, too.

GERARD: Huh. Do you like it?

JON: I – I don’t know. I never really thought about it. Yes, I… I suppose I do.

GERRY: Hmmm.

I think after his coma, Jon has a much more negative view of his abilities, but early on, he admits that there’s a part of him that does like being able to compel people. It fits, honestly – of course someone like Jon, so intolerant of mysteries, so prone to overthinking, so full of questions and so voracious for answers, fresh out of a paranoid episode that left him unable to trust any answer that anyone offered him, would like having the option to ask a question and receive a guaranteed answer and to know that the given answer was the truth. At least until he no longer has control over it, finds himself accidentally compelling people and unable to stop knowing things even when he doesn’t want to.

But even if Gertrude was further from the supernatural aspects of the Archivist role, she was still ruthless in her crusade. Her conviction and boldness made her a badass, certainly, but at what cost? The answer depends heavily on how you feel about utilitarianism as an ethical philosophy.

Gertrude Robinson would have a clear answer to the trolley problem and not apologize for it. Jonathan Sims would agonize over all the potential choices and outcomes until he’s paralyzed with indecision. (Annabelle Cane knew exactly what she was doing when she gave him that statement about the nature of free will in a moment where he was struggling so profoundly with self-doubt.)

People are always comparing Jon to Gertrude, telling him that he’d be better off behaving more like her, urging him to accept the premise that ruthlessness is a strength in a world that offers only fear and pain, and that humanity is a weakness and a liability that he doesn’t have the luxury to indulge.

And in Season 4, he tries that philosophy on for a brief while. The Eye drives him to compel people to tell their stories; he starves if he doesn’t obey that instinct. He feeds the Eye the trauma of innocent bystanders, and now he’s the monster haunting the dreams of his victims. (And, to his credit, that’s what he ultimately refers to them as: victims. He uses that word. That’s significant.)

When Basira witnesses him do that and calls him out on it, Jon replies by pointing out that Basira (among others) told him that he should be more like Gertrude: “She got the job done and didn’t care about the cost.” 

Basira responds, “But I thought you did.” 

And that highlights the fundamental difference between Jon and Gertrude! He’d temporarily forgotten that – he’d lost touch with that piece of himself, of his humanity. It makes sense; everyone around him saw him as a monster, and it’s hard to believe in your own humanity when no one else does, when everyone around you is building a self-fulfilling prophecy for you.

It takes Martin reaching out in the only way that he can – urging the others to talk to him – for Jon to wake up and admit that what he’s doing isn’t right and that he needs to do something to stop it. He goes back and forth with himself for a bit – Does he have any control? Is he doing it on autopilot? Is the Web influencing him? – but ultimately he decides that, no, he has to hold himself accountable. Helen asks him if he’s sure he didn’t want to do it, and he takes that hard-to-swallow pill and engages in some introspection and comes to the conclusion, Yeah, while supernatural influence is at play here, I made a choice.

BUT if he made a choice, it means that he can make a different choice going forward. He doesn’t have to be the monster that everyone else expects him to be. He doesn’t have to traumatize others in the same way that he’s been traumatized. (And, eventually, maybe he can learn to see himself as Martin sees him.) And he changes his behavior accordingly!

I keep thinking of Jon’s comment on Gertrude sacrificing Michael to end the Spiral’s Ritual:

“I thought moving away from my humanity would have made that seem more acceptable. That sort of sacrifice… But it just makes me sad. I remembered Gertrude’s notebook. We found it alongside the plastic explosives, but it rather got lost amongst the business of… saving the world at the cost of two lives.”

And this comment, from one of Jon’s many navel-gazing arguments with himself over the nature of humanity and how he fits into that:

“Why were we chosen? …Is there destiny here? Bloodlines, and prophecies? Or did we just – stumble into this. Maybe… maybe we’re the opposite of Agnes. Maybe our doubts are exactly what we need.”  

What keeps Jon in touch with Jonathan Sims, human and distinct from The Archivist/The Archive isn’t just an anchor/reason (Martin) or his own intense guilt, but that capacity for doubt. I mean, it does feed into his self-loathing and it’s unhealthy for him in a number of ways, but that doubt is also what saves him from fully becoming the thing he fears, in a way?

It’s interesting how that doubt and questioning feeds into his innate curiosity. That incessant need to know, even if his discoveries might destroy him, to go with Gerry’s definition of Beholding, is Jon’s fatal flaw, and it’s what makes him so well-suited to the Eye, but it’s also so very human.

That, along with Jon’s choice to change his behavior throughout the story is, imo, the strongest argument in favor of his humanity.

From where Jon is standing, every other Avatar has become so divorced from their prior self that they barely resemble humans anymore. But the question of free will is nebulous for most of the Avatars. 

Some of the Avatars seem to have sought out the power that overtook them, or at the very least openly embraced it. Jude Perry sought to destroy others to make herself feel more alive long before she met Agnes; the Desolation just lent her the power to do so to a greater degree, and she leaned into it. Jared Hopworth was already a bully; becoming the Boneturner just gave him a new way to express that preexisting pattern of behavior. 

Some of the others stumbled into it out of sheer bad luck, or in some way attracted a certain power. They were initially afraid, and typically resisted, but eventually were overtaken – or… gave in? Because that’s the recurring question: How much choice is involved?

Take Oliver Banks: 

“The thing is, Jon, right now you have a choice. You’ve put it off a long time, but it’s trapping you here. You’re not quite human enough to die, but still too human to survive…. I made a choice. We all made choices. Now you have to.”

Or Daisy: 

“I hate a lot of what I did back then; doesn’t mean I’m not responsible for it, doesn’t mean it wasn’t me.”  

Even if some of the Avatars could have done something differently to avoid their ultimate fate, they didn’t necessarily deserve that fate. Helen Richardson could have not opened the door, but opening a door out of curiosity shouldn’t be a punishable offense.

And when the Distortion and Helen ‘become’ one another, it’s interesting that there’s still enough of Helen left (at least at first) for her to feel guilt and doubt over what she’s becoming, in much the same way that Jon does: 

“I took a man, wandering the halls of an old tenement…. It was nourishing, but… I didn’t like it. I feel… wrong.” 

(Side note: I understand why Jon feels like he can’t trust the Distortion, but it does make me wonder what might have gone differently if he’d maintained an open dialogue with her re: humanity vs. monstrosity, similar to the sort of understanding Jon and Daisy have after the Buried.)

The story has been asking these questions all along, but MAG 167 put it back under the microscope in an important way. It really doesn’t matter as much what Jon is, because what he does is a much better measure of humanity and goodness. 

Jon looks at his own choices, looks at Gertrude’s choices, looks at the things that neither of them had control over and looks at the things that they did, and comes to a final conclusion: 

No, he doesn’t want to be like Gertrude. Human connections are important. He needs an anchor. He needs companionship. Trust and communication don’t come naturally to him, but it’s worth confronting that vulnerability in the end, because it’s what keeps him in touch with his humanity, with who he is and who he wants to be. 

It really complements Martin’s philosophy, too. I’ve gone on and on about it before, but I still think the line that most exemplifies Martin’s character is his response to Simon Fairchild’s brand of flippant, fatalist nihilism: 

“I think our experience of the universe has value. Even if it disappears forever.”

It would be so easy for Jon and Martin to just... give up. Give in to self-loathing, to guilt, to loneliness, to a world gone horribly, possibly irreversibly wrong. Early on, Jon is inclined to do just that. He tells Martin that “this is no longer a world where you can trust comfort.” But what does Martin do instead? He comforts Jon. He puts comfort into a world where it seems like none can exist. It doesn’t matter if that gesture is significant in the grand scheme of things -- however you want to define significance on a cosmic level. In that moment, Martin cared, and that mattered to him, and it mattered to Jon, and that fact won’t change, even when they’re both dead and gone. 

It’s... really the same stubborn sentiment that Jon offered in the Lonely, and Martin is mirroring it back when Jon needs it most. 

They make an active choice to build a relationship, to try to make a change for the better. Even if it ends in failure, the fact that they tried is still significant. Jon looks at how Gertrude lived her life, compares it with his past and current choices, and (rightly imo) comes to the conclusion that, yeah, it hurts to trust and to care, but it’s worth it, and it’s necessary if they want to survive (and, of course, he also doesn’t just want to survive). It’s just... a very brave, very compassionate, and very human way of confronting the end of the world. 

[judgement-free-sideblog]

Blood, tears and sea breeze

Warnings: ANGST, mental health issues, graphic depictions of violence, blood, cursing, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of sex, substance abuse.

Also I'm sure Elaine Jenkinson was not gay on the series, and that Tracey Childs the actress who portrays her was not gay either, but I got this inspiration for the character and I needed to follow it, I'm sorry in advance if this upset you in any way.

Summary: The not so peaceful town of Broadchurch face dead again, while Alec Hardy continues his journey to redemption will this school teacher be the key to solve the mystery or just another victim of the ever watching evilness that seems to reside in the town.

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Chapter 15: Home

The alarm clock marked 5:30 a.m. and behind the curtains of Elaine Jenkinson the sun still hadn't rise. She was not surprised, since the news of the new case she had been waking up early, and since last night meeting she was more anxious about how to proceed on Jonathan's Norbury murder investigation.

The Chief Superintendent of broadchurch police shake away her concerns and got out of bed, she make herself a cup of tea and took it back to her room while she got ready, careful to not wake up her wife, she loved that woman more than life, but she had many opinions on why she shouldn't bring food to the room.

She reflected once again on how last night events have occurred, trying to feel less as a backstabber, but she was sure Ellie Miller will forgive her. Marry someone who does something different than you for a living she thought, while Martha's calm breath was calling her back to bed.

She always believed that had been the secret on why they had been together for that long, and on why Alec and Miller didn't, she knew the man, and as much as she respected his strengths and capacities, he often let his job got the best of him, and now it may actually became a problem.

This was not like Sandbrook, she was sure, but she was not entirely convinced to gave him the benefit of the doubt again. She adjusted her tie and make sure her hair was on site before finishing her tea cup.

"You better get that back in the kitchen" Martha said softly, opening her beautiful brown eyes, how a strict librarian could have that sweet beautiful look she would never know.

"I was about to do so" Elaine said with a grin. "I have to go early, we have a briefing today and I'm a bit anxious" She could always speak her mind outloud to her, and even when they have completely opposite views on life she would always listen.

"And you are afraid you have to take Hardy out of the case" She pointed out when Elaine kept playing with her tie.

"Is not like he is sleeping with the witness, is just that all this circumstances seem odd, is not like him, and I know Miller defended him, but then is this whole Becca situation" she sited back in bed deflated, begging for her wife to hold her back in, but she was wiser to not doing so, and just gave her the advice she needed.

"Hardy may be the most obnoxious, temperamental and stoic man I have met, but he is professional, I understand your concern about what Becca had to say, but honestly that woman is not exactly a trustworthy source, I think you should listen to him before taking action" Elaine smiled and was about to give her a kiss because god this woman always bring sense to his life "And bring your bloody mug back in the kitchen" she add with a cheeky smile and turn around to sleep some more knowing well what could happen if she didn't, she could make up for it at night.

On the other side of the city, with the morning wind stroking his windows Alec Hardy was putting together every last piece of evidence, they had people on the street making interviews, and the honey trap they put on Mike Bolzano was way over budget so, they might had to defend their need for resources from the Chief Superintendent, although he had confidence that Jenkinson would be reasonable.

"Coffee? Tea? A toast??" Daze said peaking from the partially open door, and he let her come inside.

"I'll have breakfast at the station, are you sure you are okay by yourself?" He said picking his papers and putting the rest of his investigation in a locked drawer.

"Do you mean if I'm okay here with a murder suspect who you totally have a crush on?" She said with a grin that only received an stoic look as a response "Relax, I'm joking, I'll go out to do some shopping for Beth's party, I asume I will see you and Miller there" She said brushing aside the awkward situation.

"Sure, I'll try to be there." He said and was ready to leave avoiding by all means to look at his room.

"Can I bring your prisoner? She says she is friends with the Latimer's."

"I don't know if that's a good idea" He said, and Dasy didn't miss the fact that he didn't gave her a flat no.

"Well I see you later dad, have a great day" She gave him a hug, a weird thing to do from her, but welcomed in the situation, and he exited the house; he couldn't resist giving one last glance back once he was leaving and he catch a friendly waving from Y/N on his livingroom, he almost smiled but he stop himself, like he had been doing this last days since he realized the nature of his feelings for her.

He drove by the station and saw Ellie getting down of Brian's car, and another strange gut feeling make him ... Angry? Jealous? She looked happy next to him, maybe he was mad to himself because she was not smiling like that when she was with him.

"Morning" Chief Elaine said once they were all reunited in the center of the station, after the normative report of the other departments and some advances on some small drug selling business it was his turn to address the officers.

"This is our time line of events so far" He started and pointed to the whiteboard. "Jonathan Norbury was found dead on Sunday, April 21, by his fiance on her beach cottage around 6:30 pm, since she suffers from a mental condition she had a anxiety crisis that lead to her wandering on the street so we were notified, and we discovered the body a couple hours later."

Miller was next to him waiting for his turn to speak thinking about how she would bring the news to him, Sir I'm moving in with my boyfriend also the chief wants you out of the case because you are in love with that woman... No, the Sir was too formal. Dear Alec? No, she was not writing a letter, maybe just the truth.

The chief invited Brian to dinner after they had a nice match of tennis last week and she went with him, she expressed some concerns about Hardy and the case and Miller tried to put her mind at ease, but even she was not entirely convinced that his interests on the case were just professional, and she would be lying if she didn't admit that she felt a tiny bit jealous about the way Alec cared for the teacher.

"On the development of the investigation we uncovered an allegation of sexual assault committed against miss Y/L/N, on the night of April 6th, wich lead to her fiance to break his affair to an unknown woman whose DNA was found in some sex toys and underwear on the victim's house, also this was a pivotal point to exacerbate Y/L/N's mental breakdowns, wich we believe was used by the murder to fabricate incriminating evidence against her"

"So you don't believe the girl did it?" One of the officers asked talking notes on a small notepad.

"We haven't end that line of investigation, but the forensics report indicates that the victim was strangled and it would have required an enormous amount of force to do so, also the fiance was outside with a friend at the time the coroner estimates he died." Miller said, and the fact that evidence supported her innocence calmed her mind about Hardy being naive towards her.

"How come she went out if she had just been raped?" Another officer, and old man asked and she could feel Hardy getting tense and angry behind her, but strangely Harford took the lead before any of them could react.

"The victim was not aware this had happened, she was drugged with Rohypnol, and we had gotten ten new accusations against the BC Dreamland" She said and pinned a couple of the pictures of the new victims at the board. "And the attack was confirmed by the teacher's friend, who add nor she or her fiance wanted to report it to spare her the trouble of going trough this kind of bullshit questions Gordon" She add savagely and the guy only look aside embarrassed.

"We also found matching DNA in the victim's car where the attack happened, and on Y/L/N's engagement ring, which was partially destroyed and left on the victim, it belongs to a male but it has not being identified, and we believe this person who also was captured in a surveillance tape driving the victim's car and picking her at the school on the day the body was found might be the killer" Miller said and showed them the captures from the school system.

They took on some more questions and even though she feel like she had an overwhelming amount of evidence in the end there was not enough to follow any line.

But something about the crushed ring hadn't stop resonating on Harford's mind, and after they were dismissed she picked up her phone and called someone she had promise herself she wouldn't.

"Hey darling, are you ready to give me an interview?" Ollie's overconfident voice said on the phone and she sighed knowing already this was a bad idea.

"Call me darling again and I'm hanging up" she said dryly.

"Fine, fine. What can I do for you, officer Harford?" He said with pretend reverence, wich she didn't prefer to his exaggerate flirting.

"I might have an exclusive for you, but you have to do me a favor" She said and he dropped his act immediately because he knew she meant business.

After the call ended and once again she decline his invitation to dinner she called agent Ramos, it was overtime but this way they might found something.

Meanwhile CS Jenkinson was trying to bring the subject to Hardy as practically as she could, she had seen Miller concerned face when she ask her to leave them alone, and she suspect that she hadn't had the chance to tell him they had dinner the night before.

"I had an interesting conversation with Becca fisher on Wednesday" She started, and he looked surprised. "She said to me that you visited the Trader's with one of the witnesses last Monday"

"I did, but don't make it sound that way" he said understanding where the conversation was heading "I interviewed Y/N..." Damn it Hardy get it together "Miss Y/L/N friend Ashley to know more about her knowledge on the attack and the bar owner, but it was a dead end" he said honestly.

"Also your partner is concerned about how you have handled the living situation of the victim's fiance" She said and for the first time he looked surprised, and maybe a little sad and disappointed.

"Miller said that?" He asked quietly, and she was now sure that she haven't talk to him about last night.

"Not exactly, but we have a chat recently and I think she might be worried about you getting too close to the case, although I don't think she would doubt of your professionalism" She said trying to don't throw her under de bus. "Is there anything I should be worried about Alec?" She used his first name trying to invite him to be open about the situation.

"Absolutely not" he lied maybe too quickly "I mean, Y/N is living in my house to prevent her from getting another attack and if I had any evidence that suggests she is guilty I would follow it, you have no reason to doubt that" he said calmly "Nor Miller" he add with sad eyes again. "Am I getting out of the case?"

"Not yet, and your words are a relief to hear, but I'll be looking into this closely, now you can leave" She said and he stand up, but before he reached the door she add "If it wasn't murder... well I would understand, you wouldn't be the first detective in broadchurch to get personal with a subject" She smiled briefly.

"Really? Have you done something so unprofessional?" He asked turning around.

"Oh definitely, long time ago, not a murder case obviously but I got too close to this woman who reported a vandalism act on her workplace, I was a detective then" She said with a bright smile and even when he may already know the answer he asked anyway.

"Too close? What did you do?"

"I married her" she said and he gave her a side smile before exiting the office.

The rest of the morning was a nightmare, he avoid spending more than five minutes alone with Miller, he wasn't mad, just ashamed that this childish feelings were interfering with his job, and on the other hand he was angry to realize that once she was not around his job was not exactly enjoyable anymore, nor like it was before, but with the Sandbrook case he had a sense of responsibility to fill, and with Danny Latimer he needed to prove to himself he was still capable, now he knew he was capable but even when he had solved every new case for the past five years at the end of the day he was coming back to an empty house, and now with Miller about to start a new life with Brian, and Daze in Uni, he was not sure if his job was going to be enough.

A small ridiculous voice in his head told him that Y/N might still be there when this was over, but he knew how ridiculous and unrealistic that was, but at the same time he desperately want it to be truth.

"Ready sir?" Ellie said, and there was a caution in her voice that he hated, she didn't have to be afraid of his reaction, if anything she was right he was getting to damn close to the case, and he deserved to be told on to the chief.

"Sure, let's go" he said and followed her to his car.

"Alec... I have to tell you...I don't know how to start" she was revolving on the driver seat while they go to the Latimer's.

"Jenkinson told me" He said trying to spare her the trouble "Remember me to never doubt on your threats again" he said with what could almost be a playful tone.

"Well you better stop making me worry about this girls around you then" She said relieved he didn't hate her "I'm joking, I know for sure you wouldn't do anything so monumentally stupid, is just that this case gets weirder at every turn and I don't know, maybe is time for me to take a step back" She said and his worst fear of having to keep doing his work alone materialize in front of him. "But who would avoid Katie to kill you when you are being an arse? No we better finish this one and get back to normal don't you think?" She laughed off the situation but they both knew that when this situation was over their relationship won't be the same.

And as a way of the universe to prove her point the very reason of this separating was standing on Beth Latimer's living room, young and beautiful, and with the smile of a woman who hadn't been married to a psychopath, and didn't have to sneak around from her children to shag her boyfriend.

And she almost started laughing when the realization hit her, she was jealous, like a silly child she was jealous that he might found another woman on his life, murderer or not, it was the idea of him dating anyone what had her in that state, it could be another dumb blond girl from tinder or even an old woman from town, it could be anyone, it was the fact that he would smile and look at someone else the way he had once look at her what upset her, and then she felt guilty since he might have felt the same about Brian, and her selfishness make her sick, he had his right to fall for any woman he wanted, and she was being ridiculous.

And she silently prayed that this girl whose smile now she could see was sad because she lost the love of her life, and that was apart from everyone since they all look at her like an animal in a zoo, was innocent, so she could make him happy the way he deserved, and the way she had simply not being able to do.

Miller disappeared to the backyard to say hi to Mark and Hardy went on to check on Daze, apparently she and Chloe were now good again, and every couple minutes his eyes meet with Y/N, who was laughing next to Paul and Beth, he wanted to say You look beautiful like that, and when the dinner was served and she sited across the table from him he wanted to be the one pulling out the chair for her instead of Paul.

He wanted to be the one that make her laugh, he wanted to be the one who would dance with her in the back yard once the kids went to sleep and the adults were trying to finish all the wine bottles in the house.

Mark gave his wife a loud kiss that was greeted with howls from the guests, and Alec drank the rest of his wine to avoid his mind wandering on how her lips would feel, the sober shade of lipstick on her was stained with the apple juice she had been drinking to avoid alcohol and she looked too adorable.

"Do you need a bucket?" Beth said once he was helping her pick up the dishes while the girls left with Chloe's boyfriend to watch a movie and be apart from the old ones, and Miller left a few moments later.

"What?"

"You are drooling DI Hardy" She said and he felt embarrassed. "It's okay, I won't think less of you, and I really don't think she is guilty, but you should be quick, Paul seem to be very interested on her too" She wink at him and she went on to kiss Mark again, and he understood the wine might be the reason she was so blunt with him. But she was right, Paul was being too polite around her, and he felt the desperate need to do something about it.

"Is getting late isn't it?" He said to her and he took her by her elbow, she was surprised by the authority in his voice but not at all upset.

"Totally, I was telling Paul that I don't think Daze will be back soon, we might as well wait for her at home...I mean at your house detective" She said and his brain stop functioning with that simple little word.

"I'm actually going to stay a little longer to help Mark with some issues on his computer, I can bring her home when she is back" Paul said ruining the moment but saving him from smile like an idiot. "You should go get some rest" he said to her and she nodded.

"Then shall we?" She said to him and he nodded, and he couldn't help to feel a juvenile pride, father Coats might have been dancing around her the whole night but he was the one taking her home.

"Fine, let's go" he said and gave Beth a nod as goodbye, to wich she gave him a naughty wink, indicating that maybe she was as drunk as he thought.

"It was a good cake" She said once they were on his car, she sounded so casual and he felt like they had been doing this forever, and maybe it was that glass of wine, but for the rest of the ride he decided to ignore that part of his brain that used to tell him this wasn't real.

"Really good, really good meal too"

"Is nice that she can laugh now, and she and Mark they look so cute together don't they?" She said with a naive smile. "I just hope after all that wine they don't try to get Lizzie a brother" she said with a chuckle and he joined her distracted.

"Oh that would be too much chaos for them"

"Was Dasy a troublemaker?"

"Oh she was terrible" He said but he smiled remembering fondly her daughter baby years. "Where you?"

"I don't know, people probably said I was an angel, but it was too long ago to know for sure"

"It was not too long ago, you are practically a child" He said and she look delighted.

"34 is not a child in any way"

"It is compared to 47" he said exposing his biggest fear about them.

"I feel like 80 if it helps" she said the conversation was paused while they entered his place.

She tossed her shoes aside and walked inside, he was used to her dancing barefoot on his floor now, however she looked particularly perfect at the moment.

"That would explain your taste in books" he said and sited on his couch. And for all answer she sited impossibly close to him, close enough for him to smell her perfume, a fresh scent, like the ocean but at the same time peaceful and sweet like a flower field on the spring and he desperately wanted to know how something could capture so perfectly someone essence.

"Is basically the same books you like detective" She said and he couldn't respond since all coherent thinking was lost on her eyes and dies on her mouth.

"Then I might be 80" he said and the last fiber of restraint evaporated when her hand reached for his face

"We can be old together" she said and he was praying for him to read her eyes well, she had been through so much and he would never want to force anything on her, but his pleas were answered at the moment "You even have some gray showing here" she said touching his hair.

And parted her lips smiling and he couldn't resist anymore, he pull her close to him and hold on to her like a dead man holds on to life and finally broke the distance between his and her lips.

Tag list:

@allonsymexgirl @laciesaito @tf18unipups @dazedkrosupreme @timey-wimey-lovi @coffees-and-constellations @ladyaziraphale @acid-gurkerl

[insideoutstory]

Inside Out → Chapter Twenty-Three

summary: Christine and Nancy finally have some downtime to discuss their friendship. word count: 4.7k warnings: Just some girls being girls, and some Sad Mike.

[ masterlist ]   [ FF.net ]

The fallout was easier than Christine had imagined. 

She’d gone home with the Hendersons for the night, which wasn’t so bad. Dustin, ever so chivalrous, had opted to sleep on his floor so she could have the bed. What was more, he even pretended not to hear her crying into his pillow. She hoped it would dry up by morning. 

She’d expected the worst part to be lying to her dad. But as it turned out, lying was coming pretty naturally to her these days. Even when he came rushing into the Henderson’s kitchen, choked up and frantic at the sight of her wheelchair, Christine kept her cool. 

“Dad, honestly, I’m fine,” she assured him. “I literally just fell off the road. It was really dumb.” 

“This is all from falling off the road?” he asked incredulously. 

“Yeah. I was rushing to get to Dustin and I landed on my ankle wrong, which meant landing on my arm wrong, which meant landing in the bushes on the side of the road. Don’t remind me.” 

“Well where was this? Why were you running?” 

“I was with Nancy and Jonathan at the Byers’ place.” 

“Jonathan?” He stared at her, more confused by the second. “Why were you and Nancy with Jonathan?” 

“…Homework.” 

He raised his eyebrows, and Christine gave him a sharp look. She indicated Dustin on the other side of the table, hoping it might look like she just didn’t want to talk about it around the kids. Her father quickly nodded. 

“Oh—yes. The—The homework you had…to do. Good. Well, that’s fine then. Hope it went well.” 

Christine rolled her eyes and smiled down at her eggs. If she was good at lying, she didn’t get it from hanging out with Dustin or her dad. 

When the subject of Jonathan had come up again around dinner, over their traditional welcome-back-Chinese-takeout, Christine told him the truth. Mostly. 

“It’s all about Nancy,” she groaned, twirling a fork through her noodles. “She started spending a lot of time with Jonathan after the funeral, which made Steve really upset. He really, really likes her, and I think Jonathan does too. So we went over there to talk to him about his intentions or whatever. It didn’t go great. Honestly, I’m kinda glad I broke my leg. At least it diffused the tension.” 

“You know, this is not what I had in mind when I said you should get out more,” he chuckled into his soup. “I’m gone for eight days and two kids go missing, one comes back from the dead, you break your leg and end up in some dramatic love triangle.” 

“Ha. I’m not really part of the triangle, Dad. I’m more like an outlier point.” 

She frowned down at the plastic container, dragging her fork around lazily. It was stupid to still be upset about boys after everything that had happened. Somehow, she still had the emotional capacity to be upset about everything at once. She felt like exploding, between Steve and Barb and Eleven. Sooner or later, she’d have to burst or let something go. 

“Any news about Barb?” her dad asked gently. 

“Not really,” she mumbled. “The paper said they found her car at a bus station, a couple towns over. But it…it doesn’t make any sense…” 

“Maybe things were getting too much for her around here. Small town, all that pressure, the drama…” 

Christine drew a circle on the bottom of the tray. It faded in a matter of seconds, disappearing in the sauce. 

“I should have done more.” 

“Honey, you can’t…” 

“I should’ve,” she said firmly. “Nancy and I were being stupid, fighting over some dumb jock. She got put in the middle, and I know how much she hated it. And then I showed up to that stupid party, and I said I was going to help her, but—but I wasn’t. I was going to stick it to Nancy cause I was mad. And then she got mad at me, and I got mad at her, and we were fighting and Barb was panicking, and that was the last thing she ever saw before…b-before…” 

She dropped her fork, and pressed her only good hand over her face. 

Her father’s chair scraped against the floor as he pulled it closer to her. He didn’t pull her hand away, just gently stroked her arm. 

“You can’t blame yourself for anything that happened to Barbara, bumblebee. I know it hurts, to lose someone. But remember what we practiced. What was the last thing you said to her?” 

Christine wracked her brain, flipping through fuzzy memories of crying in the Harringtons’ living room. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered tearily. “I—I said I was sorry.” 

“See? You told her. Even then, you knew that you were wrong, and you were trying to make it right. Barbara knew that. And wherever she is, whatever reason she left, I’m sure she’s sorry too.” 

It pushed her over the edge. After a whole week of putting it off, reality speared her through the gut. Barb wasn’t sorry. She wasn’t anything. Because she was gone. She’d been dragged into the Upside Down, and she’d died there, cold and alone. And she wasn’t coming back. No more comedies and fried chicken at the Holland residence. No more knowing looks and comforting glances when Nancy started talking about her love life. No more indelicate snorts or good advice or late night joy rides to get ice cream and sing in the car. Barb was gone. 

Christine’s father held her as she burst into tears. It was hard to cry, physically difficult when she was restrained by the sling and the cast. Her frustration made her cry harder, and eventually, her father had to pick her up and carry her to bed. He didn’t ask about the pillow fort in the corner. She wondered if he noticed that seeing it made her sobbing worse. 

Somehow, the lying still wasn’t the worst part. It was a good contender, along with the nightmares she kept having about the Demogorgon and the Upside Down. She was always trapped there, but she found different things every night. Barb’s body. Eleven’s body. Nancy’s and her dad’s and Steve’s. All the boys battered and broken with sunken eyes and vines crawling over their limbs. She’d tug at them and tug at them, but nothing could break them loose. Sometimes she’d run from the Demogorgon for what felt like hours, only to jerk awake and find she’d only been asleep for fifteen minutes. It was exhausting. Even when she was unconscious, she didn’t seem to be getting any rest. 

Somehow, that also wasn’t the worst part. It wasn’t lying, or crying, or having nightmares, missing her friends or jumping every time she turned the lights off. 

No, the worst part of the whole thing was this goddamn wheelchair. 

She’d never felt so inconvenient in her life. Hawkins was not built to be accessible, and she’d never really noticed it until now. Everyone around her had to accommodate for her, and she was absolutely sick of it. She didn’t like being a burden. 

It was impossible for her to use her bike, which meant they had to set up a carpool to get her to and from school. Her father was going to work late every morning so he could drive her and Nancy. He assured them he’d cleared it with the office and shifted his hours, but it still made her feel like crap. Mrs. Wheeler drove them home every afternoon, and Christine would stay with them through dinner until her father could pick her up after work. This change would have happened anyway, since Nancy no longer had Barb to drive her home. But watching Mrs. Wheeler struggle to fold the wheelchair and stuff it in the back was enough to make Christine consider ripping the sling off and dealing with the consequences. 

Nancy’s schedule had changed too. The office had given her a pass to leave early and arrive late to class so she could ferry Christine around the school. Most people would’ve adored a pass like that, but Christine knew it was stressing Nancy out. She was a nerd at heart, and wanted to spend as much time in class as she could so she didn’t miss anything. She told Christine that it didn’t matter to her, that she was happy to help, that they both knew there were more important things than schoolwork at this point. But she always did it with a tight smile that showed her growing strain. 

The other problem was that picking up Christine meant Nancy kept bumping into Steve. 

“You still haven’t talked to him?” Christine asked one afternoon, over a week later. 

They were doing their homework in Nancy’s room. It was a hassle to get up there. Christine had to hop up the stairs one step at a time with her arms around Nancy’s shoulders. But the girls valued the privacy more than the extra work. Anything was better than working in the living room while Mr. Wheeler snored over The Price is Right. 

“You know I haven’t,” Nancy sighed. “I’m too busy to think about it right now. You come first.” 

“And I appreciate that. But you can’t keep using me as an excuse to avoid him.” 

“I’m not avoiding him.” 

It was a feeble excuse at best. Christine sent her a knowing look, and Nancy folded immediately. 

“I just feel like it’s best for both of us,” she amended. 

“For you and Steve? Or…for you and me?” 

Nancy smiled sadly. She pushed her homework aside. 

“Christine. I’m really sorry.” 

“No, I’m sorry. I was being dumb, and…” 

“Maybe we both were,” Nancy insisted. “Just…Just let me go first, okay? Please?” 

Christine pouted, but leaned back against Nancy’s headboard. Nancy nodded, and wrung her hands in her lap. 

“That whole week, I…I blamed you for a lot of things. I think it was just easier, you know? Than acknowledging it. And I told you that you were being a bad friend, but…I was being a bad friend too. Worse, even. I never should’ve kissed Steve. I knew something was up when we went to that party, and I just ignored it. I was so…I don’t know, excited that he liked me that I didn’t think about how it would look, or how it would make you feel, or how shitty he was being to you. I mean, he manipulated you into bringing me just like he was always doing with your lab reports and…that’s so messed up.” 

“That’s what Barb said,” Christine confided with a weak smile. “I remember being on the phone with her after we had that fight. She was like ‘you cannot be that dumb.’” 

“Yeah,” Nancy laughed. “Yeah, she said that to me too. And I knew what he was doing but…he’s just so good at making you feel…” 

“Special,” Christine said with a nod. “I know. That’s why I kept doing the work. Even when I knew you guys were dating, I just kept doing everything he asked me to. It’s just stupid.” 

“He’s stupid,” Nancy insisted. “You’re smarter than twelve of Steve. Screw him.” 

“I thought that was your job.” 

Nancy’s jaw dropped, but Christine was smirking. She giggled at the look on Nancy’s face, and was promptly smacked with a textbook. 

“Ow! Watch it, I only have one good leg.” 

“Then maybe you should be more careful with your words,” Nancy warned. Still, she was grinning. “But seriously. Forget Steve. I’m not gonna hang out with someone who uses my best friend like that. Or someone who used me.” 

“You?” Christine squinted at her. “What do you mean he used you?” 

“Let’s face it, Christine, he just wanted to…you know. Sleep with me. Barb warned me when we went to his house, and I didn’t listen. But…she was right.” 

“No, she wasn’t.” 

Nancy looked over at Christine in surprise. “Chris…” 

“Look, I know that I’ve been pissy about this whole thing from the start. And Steve’s done a lot of fucked up things, to me and to you. But you can’t look at him and think he doesn’t care about you. That’s insane.” 

“No. No, it’s—it’s not…” 

“It is, Nancy. Steve really likes you. I mean, he kept talking to you and checking up on you even after that party. He lashed out when he thought you were cheating on him—which I will totally kick his ass for after my leg heals—but it’s because he was really heartbroken. And then he came back to apologize, admit he messed up, and that he wanted to make it up to you.” 

“You can’t think he was being serious,” Nancy said dismissively. 

Christine shrugged. “Actually, I do.” 

Nancy didn’t look convinced. 

“Think about it like this,” Christine offered. “When he realized what he did, he went to apologize to Jonathan. Not to you. Jonathan. If this was all about getting you to sleep with him, wouldn’t he skip the one on one apology and go straight to convincing you he was sorry?” 

“I don’t know. I mean, I guess…” 

“Exactly. And, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he hasn’t exactly been buddy with Tommy and Carol this week.” 

“That’s just because Tommy’s using him as an excuse,” Nancy reminded her. “You know he told everyone he and Steve duked it out because he doesn’t want to admit you almost broke his nose.” 

“That may be true, but the point still stands. And I didn’t get the chance to clean the graffiti at work.” 

“Christine, anyone could’ve done that…” 

“But they didn’t. Anthony told me.” 

“And?” Nancy said adamantly. “That’s like, the bare minimum he should’ve done. So what?” 

“So, it’s a start. I mean, don’t look now, but it seems like Steve’s genuinely trying to be a better person.” 

“You’re insane.” Nancy shook her head, grinning incredulously. “I can’t believe you want to give him the benefit of the doubt. You of all people.” 

“I’m a sucker for a redemption arc,” Christine said offhandedly. “And a nice head of hair.” 

They giggled together for a while. It almost felt like being back on her living room floor, drunk off sugar and soda and pizza, playing Truth or Dare while horror flicks played in the background. 

Nancy sobered first, fixing Christine with another bittersweet smile. 

“You still like him,” she observed. 

“Yeah, I guess.” Christine sighed, and let her head thump back against the wall. “I know that sounds super dumb, but…it’s hard not to like him.” 

“I know. But that’s exactly why I can’t go back to dating him, Chrissy. I don’t want to let some guy come between us again. If there’s anything that I’ve learned this week, it’s that you’re way more important to me than any boy or any test. I can’t…I can’t lose my best friend again.” 

“I don’t know. We make a pretty explosive combo—Psycho Bitch and the Slut.” 

Nancy let out a breath of laughter, and rolled her eyes. “Shut up, dork.” 

“So is that it?” Christine asked, sitting up a little straighter. “Can we be friends again?” 

“Yeah.” Nancy smiled, and nodded her head. “I’d really like that.” 

 “Great…then it’s my duty as your friend to let you know that Steve’s crazy about you, and you’re still not allowed to use me as excuse to avoid it.” 

“Ugh! Christine!” 

“I’m serious, Nancy,” Christine countered. “You think I haven’t learned the same lesson this week? I’m not gonna let some stupid thing like jealousy get in the way of your happiness.” 

“Chrissy, you make me happy.” 

“And so does Steve. Besides, you not dating him isn’t magically gonna make him like me. If he likes you, he likes you. And I know how much you like him, logical flaws aside. So it might take me some time to get over it, but…I’m not gonna stand in the way of that. You can’t live your life always putting other people’s feelings first, Nancy. Life’s too short, you know?” 

Nancy nodded, but she still looked conflicted. Or…no. Conflicted wasn’t the right word. She looked almost put out. Clearly the conversation had not gone the way she’d planned it to, and she wasn’t happy with the result. 

Christine narrowed her eyes. 

“This isn’t even about me, is it?”

“What?” Nancy’s head popped up too fast, her ponytail bouncing wildly. “Christine, haven’t you been listening to me? Of course it is.” 

“Ugh, Nancy!” Christine whined, flopping onto her side in the pillows. “I cannot believe you are about to make me have this conversation.” 

“What conversation?” 

“This conversation! About you liking Jonathan Byers.” 

“What? What—no! No, that’s—that’s totally not what this is about!” 

“So you admit it?” Christine baited. “This isn’t about that, but you do like him?” 

“No! I—I do not like Jonathan.” 

“You are such a bad liar. We might not have been speaking for a while, Nance, but I’m not blind. I was third wheeling for a solid two hours while you two were playing horror house.” 

“No way! Christine, it wasn’t…” 

“If I have to listen to you say ‘it’s not like that’ one more time this month, I’m rescinding our friendship. Every time you say that, it is exactly like that, and you are just trying to run from your own feelings.” 

For a moment, Nancy resembled a very distressed fish. Her mouth gaped open and closed. She was searching for some kind of excuse, some obvious reason to ward Christine off, but she could not find one. After several seconds of choking sounds, she fell forward onto the mattress and screamed into her blanket. Christine cackled, and Nancy looked up at her with hair in her eyes. 

“Do you hate me?” she asked in distress. 

“I could never hate you,” Christine assured her. “I don’t always understand you, but…I guess you just have a…very wide spectrum of taste.” 

Nancy smacked her again. 

“Ow! Hey, I’m allowed to be critical! That’s part of the best friend deal, right? I have to judge if they’re worthy of you.” 

“Of course he is,” Nancy sighed. “I mean, he saved my life, you know? That’s not something a lot of people can say.” 

“I know, I know. There’s a lot of stuff that you two went through together that no one else was there for, and no one else will ever understand. I get it. It’s just…it’s Jonathan Byers, you know? He barely talks to anyone at school, and he hardly sticks around outside it.” 

“It’s just cause he has a job. He told me he picks up shifts at the auto shop to help out his mom. And he just…doesn’t like talking to people. It’s hard, and he isn’t super sociable. That’s not that weird, right?” 

“No, but taking pictures of people from bushes is. Taking pictures of people from bushes is actually my main concern here.” 

Nancy groaned and rolled onto her side to face Christine. 

“I know. And I shouldn’t forgive him for that. But he apologized, right? And then he worked to make it better. How is that any different from forgiving Steve?” 

“Because Steve…It’s because…” Christine pouted. “At least Steve’s cute.” 

“Shut up! That is so shallow!” 

“See? Even you don’t think he’s cute!” 

“I do!” 

“Oh my God, you think he’s cute?” 

“No, I—He’s cute in his own way, okay?” 

“Yeah, like ugly cute.” 

“Christine, stop!” 

“Fine! Sorry, I’ll stop picking on your boyfriend.” 

Their giggles died off quickly, and Nancy pressed her face into her blankets. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she said, reminding both of them of the facts. “Right now, neither is Steve. And if I’m being honest, I…I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” 

Christine bit her lip. Her first impulse was to make a joke about the plights of Nancy Wheeler, trying to decide between the two boys who were head over heels for her. But for once, she swallowed her sarcasm, and tried to think of something helpful. 

“You’ve just gotta give it time. Think it over, and do what feels right. Go through a pros and cons list or something.” 

“Chrissy,” Nancy groaned. “They’re people, not a science project.” 

“I know, but writing it out helps organize your thoughts. I’m not trying to give you an equation, just something that could help.” 

Nancy frowned but grabbed her notebook. She flopped onto her stomach, taking her pencil and creating a chart with four columns: Jonathan (Pro), Jonathan (Con), Steve (Pro), Steve (Con). 

She went off on her own, rambling to talk things out, scribbling down notes in her book. Christine watched with a bittersweet smile. She knew it was Nancy’s problem to figure out. Whatever conclusion she came to, she had to do it on her own, and Christine didn’t want to interfere. But she could’ve told Nancy the answer right off the bat. All she had to do was look at the first thing her brain had written down. 

They spent the hours before dinner neglecting their homework to talk about boys. Christine expected it to be uncomfortable, full of the same awkward pauses as the conversations they’d had after Jenny’s party. But after two weeks of fighting monsters and breaking bones, it seemed like they’d finally got past the awkwardness. Christine grabbed for Nancy’s pens and tried to scrawl a long list into Steve’s pro-column, which all looked like chicken scratch cause she was using her left hand. Nancy had plied her for all the information she could remember about hanging out with Jonathan in middle school, before he’d ditched AV club for the art department. Christine held back her comments about the stalker photos, even as Nancy wrote it on the page, and added her own line to Steve’s cons. 

“Dumb as dirt.” –Barbara Holland 

Dinner was a quiet affair. Mr. Wheeler seemed to like it that way, even if it made the meal feel more tense. After a week of eating with them, Christine was beginning to understand why Nancy hated mealtime so much. It was nice to have a large family to sit with, but Christine would take a low-key takeout meal with her dad any day. 

After about fifteen minutes, Mike asked to be excused. He’d barely touched his food, but his mother didn’t put up a fight as he disappeared into the basement. 

“He’s like this all the time, now,” Mrs. Wheeler said to Christine, as if she hadn’t watched Mike do the same thing for the past five days. “I just don’t understand it. After all that, Will comes back. You think he’d be ecstatic.” 

“I think he’s just drained, Mom,” said Nancy. She was free to defend her brother so long as he wasn’t in the room. “He went through a lot. He just needs time to process.” 

“I know. I just wish he’d eat…” 

“Actually, do you mind if I’m excused too?” Christine asked. “The meatloaf is delicious, Mrs. Wheeler. My pain meds are just affecting my appetite.” 

“Oh, of course. I’m so sorry, Christine.” 

“It’s fine. Thank you.” 

Nancy got up, wheeling her chair around into the living room. Without instruction, she looped around until they’d reached the door to the basement. 

“Think you can get down there okay?” she whispered. 

“Yeah,” Christine assured her. “Down is fine. I just need to convince Mike to carry me back up.” 

Nancy smiled, patted her on the shoulder, and walked back to the dining room. 

It took Christine some time to situate herself. She stumbled out of her chair with as little noise as possible, and swung the door to the basement open. Then she had to ease herself onto the floor. It was tough to close the door behind her, and even harder to do it quietly, but she managed it by the tips of her nails and a quiet click. 

“Okay, Mike,” she called down. “If you want me to leave, you better say it now, cause it’s gonna take me about five minutes to get down these stairs.” 

There was no response. 

Christine grit her teeth, and with one hand on the banister, began to scoot her way down the staircase. She had to go one step at a time, moving her good leg and then her butt. Her cast hung awkwardly out in front of her, dangerously close to smacking the stairs or the railing. But finally, she was able to hop down the last few steps. 

“You’re gonna break your other leg.” 

Mike had not looked up. He was sitting in the blanket fort under the table, his radio in his hands. It hummed faintly, but the sound was steady. There was no warbling interference or mysterious voices to be heard. 

“Well you could always help me,” Christine reminded him. 

“Nah. It’s funny to watch you hop around.” 

“Glad my pain amuses you.” 

 She stuck her tongue out at him, and hopped the last few feet to the fort. He scooted over so there was room for her, and lifted the blanket roof so it could clear her head. 

Neither of them said anything. They listened to the static on the supercomm, Mike occasionally changing the channel in case he could get a different result. It must have been ages before he finally turned it off. 

“I do it too, you know.” Christine stared down at the radio. “Leave my stereo on, scan through the channels. It’s driving my dad up the wall.” 

“Have you heard anything?” 

She shook her head. 

“Then how do we know if she’s out there?” 

“Cause she’s Eleven,” Christine said with a shrug. “I think she was a lot stronger than either of us knew. And if Will can survive in the Upside Down for a week, I’m sure she can.” 

“Twelve.” 

Christine turned to Mike, her brow furrowed. “What?” 

“It’s been twelve days,” he explained. “That’s more than a week. That’s almost two weeks. If she’s still there…” 

“Then maybe she’s not,” said Christine. “It’s like the magazine, remember? Sometimes you can’t control where you come out or…” 

“No.” Mike shook his head down at the radio. “She’s here. I know it, I just…I don’t know why she won’t come home.” 

That sat in silence again, until he felt comfortable enough to confide one other thing. 

“I thought I saw her. When we got back from the school. There were all these agents here, talking to my parents, telling them we had to let them know if she contacted us. And I swore I saw her in the window. I’ve done everything I can to get her back. I’ve tried calling her. I’ve tried leaving out Eggos. I even left the fort up. I don’t understand.” 

“Mike,” Christine said softly. “If your house in under surveillance, coming back here is the last thing she’d do.” 

“What about your house, though? It’s safe haven, right?” 

“It was. But they know about me too. My place was crawling with agents when you guys were hiding in the junkyard. I wouldn’t be surprised if they opened up all my phones and put bugs and stuff in them.” 

“Do you think that’s how they found us?” he asked brokenly. “At the school?” 

“No.” Christine clenched her jaw. “No, I don’t think that’s how they found you.” 

“Then what did we do?” 

Christine twisted on the floor, grabbing one of Mike’s hands. 

“We didn’t do anything wrong. You saw her, right? She’s out there, somewhere. She’s alive and she’s hiding, and we both know how good she is at that. I think…I think we just have to accept that wherever she is…we’re not what she needs right now. It’s too dangerous, with either of us.” 

“But this is home. She…She has to come back.” 

Mike took his hand back, covering his mouth as he coughed. It was a suspiciously wet cough, but Christine let him cry in peace. She didn’t want to wound his pride. 

Maybe this, she thought. Maybe this was really the worst part. Not the lying, or the injuries, but the not knowing. The closure that no one could give them. 

She leaned a shoulder against one of the chairs that was acting as a column for the fort. 

“She will, Mike. I know it. My blanket fort’s still up too.”

[olaluwe]

In this article, a former spokesperson to ex-president Goodluck Jonathan, Reuben Abati, talks about the recent statement credited to the Police Public Relations officer, Jimoh Moshood calling the Governor of Benue State, Samuel Ortom a “drowning man”. Jimoh Moshood, the current Police Public Relations officer in Abuja is probably the most unprofessional occupier of that office since 1999. His lack of professionalism and ready capacity to perpetually say the wrong thing at the right time is the reason why he should be relieved forthwith of that important position. He obviously loves the Inspector General of Police, Ibrahim Idris more than Ibrahim Idris loves himself. When subordinates are sworn to that kind of oath of sycophancy, they do more harm than good. So it is with Jimoh Moshood who went on Channels Television this week to declare that the Governor of Benue State, Samuel Ortom is a “drowning man”. Governor Ortom’s offence is that after the initial killing of 73 Benue citizens by criminal herdsmen, followed by more killings by rampaging herdsmen in other states – Taraba, Adamawa, Ondo etc., the Governor had accused the Federal Government of lack of interest in the welfare and security of the people of Benue State. Ortom apparently called on Abuja for help. He got no quality response. It is now a matter of public record and one of the reasons for the growing objection to the present administration that rather than address the criminality and the impunity of herdsmen, killing farmers and destroying communities, the Federal Government took the curious position of insisting that herdsmen, even when they kill should be accommodated. The Inspector General of Police, who had previously raised questions about his own style in the Senator Isa Misau case, simply dismissed what had been declared an act of genocide against Christians and farmers as a “communal crisis”. He was later ordered by President Buhari who had himself been accused of negligence in the herdsmen/farmers conflict to relocate to Benue state and put an end to the killings. Idris made a cameo appearance but the Governor was not impressed. The attacks continued, right in the presence of the police. In one sorry instance, a police officer announced that they could not arrest the killer-herdsmen, but that the matter would be addressed later. I know Samuel Ortom. He was a Minister in the Goodluck Jonathan administration (2010- 2015). He served as Minister of State for Industry, Trade, and Investment and for a brief period, as Supervising Minister for Aviation. He was one of the very quiet ones at Council meetings. Even when he acted occasionally as substantive Minister, or made presentations on behalf of Minister Segun Aganga, he did so quietly and so modestly without struggling to seize the stage. The whispering campaign about him was that he actually started his career as a motor park tout, who later became a professional driver in the same park, and who eventually sent himself to school and developed himself to the level of a Master’s degree from Benue State University. You can’t truly know a person’s worth until you give them opportunities. As the Peoples Democratic Party imploded in 2015, Ortom joined the All Progressives Congress. He ran the race for Governor of his home state Benue, as an APC candidate and won, thus becoming Governor. In this new role, Ortom has shown a depth of character, a high level of confidence and such capacity previously unseen. This much was tested when Fulani herdsmen overran over 23 villages and constituencies in his state. Ortom stood up, spoke out, and drew international attention to the killings. He declared, wisely, that he was elected to serve as Governor over the living, not the dead. He accused the police, the military, the Presidency and the Federal Government of condoning genocide against his people. He took on the police in particular, and accused its leadership of negligence. He went to the Presidential Villa where he paid obeisance to the President and again pleaded for help. His situation exposes a serious flaw in the Nigerian Constitution. Whereas Governors are described as the Chief Security Officers of their states, and they preside over state security meetings, they are in reality paper tigers, because they have no control over security in their states. Governors are also members of the Police Council but that body is more or less moribund. The various security units and their bosses report directly through their own bosses and headquarters to the President. In the event of any security crisis in any part of the country, law enforcement agents have to wait for “orders from above”. Those orders are not always forthcoming in a timely fashion, and this alone has been responsible for the loss of too many innocent souls. Since the current crisis began, Ortom has found the courage to condemn this anomaly. He has repeatedly reaffirmed the legal and divine parameters of good governance by insisting that the duty of a government is to ensure the security and welfare of the people. His boldness has been so unmistakable, many have wondered if he still plans to remain a member of the ruling APC. In the heat of the moment he even reached out to all prominent persons in Benue state, irrespective of their creed, faith or political affiliation to come home and come together to rescue their state. The only significant response he seems to have received, is not a Presidential visit, but a churlish rebuke from the Police PRO who declared on international TV that Samuel Ortom is “a drowning man.” CSP Jimoh Moshood, the Police PRO, is a spokesperson for a public institution, a law enforcement agent and of course, he is not a political appointee. It is not part of his brief in that capacity and as a serving civil servant, to make political statements. There are persons in Nigeria who believe that one of the biggest lies in the Nigerian public space is the declaration that the “police is your friend”. Moshood just confirmed that, and by so doing, he put his boss on the spot! Under the watch of Ibrahim Idris as Police Inspector-General, the impression that the Nigeria Police is not “a friend of the people” has been confirmed on many occasions, resulting in what seems like widespread perplexity about the police. Ordinarily when any citizen has a problem bordering on personal safety or a breakdown of law and order such as we have in Benue, the first port of call should be the police. Moshood calling a sitting Governor, a “drowning man” is like a family calling on the police to rescue them from an armed robbery attack only for the police spokesperson to tell them that the police has no business with drowning people! In other societies, the police help people and save them from drowning. In Nigeria, by the police spokesperson’s logic, whoever wants to drown can jolly well drown. This is one of the many reasons life and property have become unsafe in Nigeria. It is also the reason there has been a persistent call for state police, to grant state Governors a certain level of control during emergencies and to strengthen the country’s security architecture. Samuel Ortom’s reaction in this respect is a sobering reflection of the state of the nation. On Wednesday, February 7, he replied in like mode when he said on radio that the Inspector General of Police, Ibrahim Idris is actually the “drowning man.” His words: “It is the IGP that has failed to do the right thing that should be called a drowning man, it is the IGP that should resign, I am not a drowning man; I am doing what I was elected to do. Over 90 per cent of Benue people are with me. I‘m acting their script, so nobody should try to intimidate me. The IGP should resign because he has failed woefully. He doesn’t have the capacity. There are many good police officers who can take over that job and perform creditably by turning around the security architecture of this country and make things work and protect lives and property. That man has no business being IGP.” Ortom added that Ibrahim Idris is “the mouthpiece of Miyetti Allah Kautal H*re” – quite a straight-to-the-chin, unkind cut, but even the President has been called worse names in the unfolding saga. The pervasive opinion is that the Nigeria police now conducts itself as a branch of the Buhari campaign team. A partisan police force can only become a tool of aggression and division. Ortom’s solution is that the people of Benue state should “defend themselves and not make themselves easy prey to be killed in their homes.” He asked them to do so by “lawful means” but how exactly can a resort to self-help be lawful especially as the Governor has told the people “not to wait for the Inspector General of Police to do it”? Ortom’s remedy is a prescription for chaos. When Chief Security Officers in the states begin to urge their people to resort to self-help, what stronger proof do we need of the failure of the state? Ortom’s help-yourself-clarion-call is not the solution. It further compounds the problem. It is to prevent this I believe, that the House of Representatives resolved on February 7, that the Inspector General of Police should apologise to the Governor of Benue state, and that the tough-talking Police PRO should be relieved of his position. Ortom doesn’t need the IGP’s apology. He needs the IGP to act professionally and avoid politics. With the way he has conducted himself so far, not too many Governors will be comfortable with Ibrahim Idris as the IGP to oversee the 2019 elections in their states. Consider a situation whereby a Governor or the opposition runs to the Police Headquarters to complain about rigging or electoral irregularities. Would the best response from the police be: we don’t deal with drowning men! By the way, is Jimoh Moshood from a riverine community, given the imagery he has added to the confusing grammar of politics since 2015? I share the view that he should be removed as the chief spokesperson for the police, and assigned to the level of responsibility he is best suited for. He will do much better in my view in the VIP protection unit, preferably as bodyguard to the wife of a local government chairman where he would be happy to carry Madam’s bag, escort her to the market and act like a rented able-bodied man and sycophant! As for the IGP, he should begin to think of how he would love to be remembered – so far, his tenure has been characterized by avoidable somersault and controversies. This is unfortunate considering the fact that Ibrahim Idris assumed office as Inspector General of Police with strong credentials. Degrees in two disciplines: agriculture and law, and years of service as a police operations man, rising to become commissioner in two states, and AIG Operations. He is also a Member of the National Institute (mni) and a PSC (Passed Staff College). Soon after he assumed office as Inspector General of Police, Ibrahim Idris declared an impressive agenda. He told us: “The Nigeria Police Force will henceforth be guided by the international core values of policing with integrity, ensuring that the rule of law prevails in our actions and activities, and to respect diversity, courage, compassion, and professionalism. The Nigeria Police also would operate within the principles of Democratic Policing, which is an institution that is responsive, representative and accountable to its citizens at all times.” In case he has forgotten these declarations, this piece should serve as a timely reminder. This article was gotten from Naij.com and the opinions expressed therein are solely those of the author (Dr. Reuben Abati) and do not represent the views of dejiolaluwe's blog.

[wavelengthintl]

Catching Up With Karmik: Harm Reduction Amidst The Fentanyl Crisis

Last spring I talked to Munroe Craig, the co-founder of Vancouver-based harm reduction group Karmik, about the basics of harm reduction philosophy.

The discussion centred around the idea that harm reduction is more than the sum of individual acts like pill checking, or creating a safe tent at festivals. At its core, it’s about affecting change at both the cultural and individual levels to empower safe choices.

This also means that harm reduction initiatives have to be dynamic, as substance use and the attitudes surrounding them are constantly changing.

Before Craig and her team head to Costa Rica to work harm reduction at the second Bamboo Bass Festival, I decided to connect with her again to find out what’s changed over the previous year, both with drug discourses and their approach to harm reduction.

This time around Craig is joined on the phone by Alex Betsos, one of Karmik’s co-founders and their volunteer coordinator. Betsos also currently sits on the national board for Canadian Students for Sensible Drug Policy (CSSDP).

“When we last chatted it was a really great chance for us to be at the beginning of what was seeming to be a changing time,” says Craig.

During the previous interview Craig described the then-current drug discourse as a “paradigm shift” that saw substance use becoming part of popular culture and even gaining acceptability in the media.

Now, she says, this is provoking a change within governing bodies and a new wave of activism.  

“I think that some of the things that have changed is actually the talk about drug policy. Some of the progressive pieces that we’ve seen are focused around political officials and health officials; we have more people standing up and taking notice, even if that stepping up is starting with asserting ourselves and identifying that proactive, progressive drug policies are needed,” she says.

Nowhere is the dynamic nature of harm reduction more apparent than the fentanyl crisis, an issue that’s risen to the forefront of public discussion over the past year and left some officials scrambling to develop a response.

“A couple major things have happened since March,” says Betsos.

“One, Health Canada sought consultation to make naloxone more easily accessible, and that was responded to with an overwhelming, ‘Yes, please do that.’ ”

Naloxone is a medication used to treat opiate overdoses, currently sold under the brand name “Narcan.”

“I think that was a very good first step because it means that people have easier access to Narcan kits, which they didn’t necessarily have before,” says Betsos.

“One of the issues that’s coming up is so many people want Narcan kits because they’ve either known someone who’s had an overdose, or they’ve heard about fentanyl being cut into other substances and they want to make sure they’re safe.

“It’s created this new level of awareness which has been pretty fantastic.”

This new demand led Karmik to recently begin training sessions for the administering and usage of the kits.

Another major event occurred in June, when Betsos and Craig were invited to participate in a panel on overdose prevention held by the B.C. Centre for Disease Control.

“There’s definitely this change in awareness; both with the individual substance use level, but also we see public health is really trying to deal with this and catch up to the problem,” says Betsos.

Both Betsos and Craig agree that public health being put in the position of having to “catch up” signals one of the biggest flaws in how policies deal with substance use.

“We need proactive policies and support, not primarily reactive,” says Craig.

“When somebody has an overdose, responding with naloxone can be considered proactive; we educate individuals prior to situations occurring with an overdose, providing them with the tools to support. However it is also considered primarily reactive.

“Naloxone is what we respond with to an overdose situation, but it is not addressing the root cause which is why someone is overdosing to begin with.

“So I think that naloxone is really great, and it’s a step in the right direction, but we need to have more broader harm reduction policies as a whole.

“People have naloxone support and training, but we still have friends, loved ones and family passing away, often with naloxone in their hands.”

Some proactive initiatives that harm reduction activists have long been campaigning for include lobbying for substance decriminalization, launching public awareness initiatives, and working to reduce the stigma that users often face when dealing with public health officials.

These initiatives are favoured over prohibition because, as Betsos points out, prohibition can maintain the same situation currently being seen with fentanyl.

“It’s not like fentanyl came out of nowhere and hit the scene because Oxys [Oxycodone] became Neo [controlled release] Oxys,” says Betsos.

“It already happened before. It’s part of this constant process of drug-prohibition where, because we have all of these drugs prohibited, the cheapest substances that are the easiest to cut into other substances are always going to try to make their way onto the market.”

Similarly, Craig believes that without fundamental shifts in drug discourse, substance-related epidemics will continue happening.

“This substance could be anything,” says Craig.

“Fentanyl is absolutely a cause for concern. The amount of fentanyl that we need to take in order to overdose is much smaller and the substance increasingly potent, especially with synthetic analogues of fentanyl being created at an alarming rate.

At the same time let’s remember that illicit substances being adulterated is not a new thing, this happens all the time.”

The current climate has created a sentiment of fear, with some media outlets either declaring this as the most dangerous time to do drugs, or urging people to avoid drugs entirely. Betsos refers to this as fear mongering, and it creates the illusion that drugs will be safe again once fentanyl leaves.

“It’s actually recreational users that we’ve been seeing the most overdoses with, and we’ve seen an increase in that, so if that’s your metric for the most dangerous time to try substances then maybe it is there,” says Betsos.

“But, I think that’s kind of a sticky way of thinking about it, because it implies that there was a time when there weren’t overdoses, which is not true, and it also implies that there aren’t risks associated with taking substances.”

Rather than join this rhetoric of drug avoidance, Karmik is dealing with the issue by using their training sessions to engage the community.

“I know that what we’re talking about with naloxone, it can seem like a big, deep dark thought,” says Craig.

“You can kind of wormhole all the way down there to where you might feel really scared, afraid, anxious and concerned.

But really, let’s also understand that what we’re doing is actually proactive as well.

We’re empowering and engaging people and their communities to accurately respond and take care of one another.

“We’re increasing the capacities for communities to become more self sufficient as individuals, and lets face it, individuals who are healthy create healthy communities, and that’s also what we’re trying to do.”

The people who attend these workshops then return to their own networks and relay what they’ve learned.

“They’re so happy to put a picture on Facebook and say guess what everybody, I have that kit and I’m here for you. If you need something let me know, and when I go out to an event you’re going to know that I have this kit,” says Craig.

Our interview last March ended with an optimism that harm reduction policies were gaining more traction in both the public and political spheres.

This optimism is still there, but Craig points out the irony of requiring a grave catalyst like fentanyl to initiate discussions, something she hopes will change in the future.

“Why do people need to die or be severely threatened for us to want to change harm reduction policies, support, funding, and possibly start to look at stigmas around substance use,” says Craig.

“Why do we need to have such a very aggressive result happen, or such a very final result happen for us to even look at changing any of these policies, or for them to even garner any attention?

“Karmik has been doing harm reduction work not because people are dying all the time, but because we know it’s an important and significant piece of public health.”

Learn more about Karmik and donate to them at http://www.karmik.ca/

Words by Jonathan Crane Follow Wavelength on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/WavelengthINTL/