What A Watchful Eye Sees [Leonard] [Complete]

[Zaxal]

There were troubling thoughts that continued to plague him. He had begun to accept that Pern was reality, that Santa Barbara was a distant memory and his life was now full of dragons and strangers and not having a place after daring to hope that he'd finally found one for himself.

Sonora often found him in moments like that, draping her tail over his neck and settling on his shoulder, reminding him that he was never alone so long as she was around. In the few days they'd been together, Carlton had discovered a soft spot in his heart for the fair green princess who preened at herself and at him until she lost balance and whined pitifully until he helped her back to her rightful place on his shoulder.

Belonging. He had spent so long in another world trying to find it, and yet here, he had found it so quickly. Well. She had found him.

Yet, even as Carlton felt something that felt dangerously like contentment sneaking up on him, he knew something wasn't right. Someone looking too normal in a world that was anything but, and Carlton knew in his gut that he had to investigate. It wasn't a difficult task finding out where he lived -- all of them had been grouped in apartments away from the rest of the Weyrfolk.

Once he had, it was just a matter of waiting, following behind him on his way down the hallway to his own room. Sonora, who understood little of stakeouts and following perps, cheeped quietly, curling down on Carlton's shoulder, hiding her vibrant color as best she could while Hers continued to play what she thought of as a very silly game with her brother's bonded.

Carlton didn't bother knocking at the door. There was a time for polite behavior, and it had been sometime before he'd woken up in the desert with no memory of how he'd teleported to a different planet. He scanned over the room before his eyes landed on the occupant.

With all the confidence of someone who is used to asking questions and having them answered promptly regardless of the circumstances, Carlton demanded, "Who are you?"

[Inouken]

Leonard walked briskly through the hallways to his apartment, his eyes straight ahead. He figured if he walked with purpose, nobody would stop to chat, and he really, really didn't want to chat, particularly with a dozen tubers stuffed suspiciously down the front of his jacket.

He felt a little guilty about taking them from the kitchens, but he'd come to learn that bulk requests for unprepared tubers were generally met with one too many questions and quizzical stares. The judgment he received made him feel genuinely uncomfortable, the kind of uncomfortable that someone experienced only after their own hallucinations started regarding them as though they were 100% insane. There wasn't anything worse than feeling like a sideshow act inside your own head, as far as Leonard was concerned, so a few purloined tubers here and there to avoid that feeling seemed like an acceptable tradeoff.

Shifting the vegetables closer to his body, Leonard picked up the pace. He didn't think anyone from the kitchens had spotted him, but getting back to his place quickly was an absolute priority. For one thing, a dozen tubers was surprisingly heavy to carry, and for another thing, Sheldon kept trying to crawl down his jacket to inspect the damn things.

"Stop that," Leonard hissed, scrunching his neck down in order to prevent Sheldon from succeeding. Just like his real-life counterpart, apparently this Sheldon also had a knack for stubbornly pursuing whatever interested him. Knowledge, in this case. A desire to learn. Leonard felt his annoyance ebb a little at that reminder. "You can investigate all you want later, I promise. Just--"

Sheldon chirped his approval. Nudged Leonard with his snout. Urged him to get home as soon as possible.

"I so need to train you…" Leonard muttered, sounding only mildly irritated as he grinned when his door came into view.

He hefted the tubers one last time and made a beeline for the apartment, fumbling with the handle before bursting inside. He kicked the door shut behind him and dumped the tubers on the floor. Sheldon, who had been waiting for this very moment, pounced on the nearest one, testing its solidity against the sharpness of his teeth.

"Yeah, you show that thing," Leonard managed to say between breaths. He shook out his arms and watched with amusement as Sheldon collected the stray tubers in a pile so they wouldn't roll away.

Leonard had been able to get twelve of them. Setting aside two for each project meant he had enough for six. Six lightbulbs he could fashion once he had connected them to the vials and pieces of scrap metal that would serve as his DIY bulbs. And then, joy and rapture, he'd have electricity again. Smiling, Leonard made his way into the apartment, only to stop suddenly when he heard his front door slam open.

Oh, boy. If someone from the kitchens had followed him…

Leonard spun on his heels. He was fully prepared to deliver the apology he had been rehearsing all the way back to his apartment, but upon seeing the intruder, he simply blinked instead. He recognized the man from the hatching. He was the lanky guy, the one with the normal clothing and green firelizard on his shoulder. He didn't look happy to see Leonard at all, nor did he sound happy when he asked his question. In fact, he sounded downright scary, like he was the person who just had his apartment broken into and now his fist was gonna connect with someone's face because of it.

Leonard took a slow step away from the man. "Um," he said, and merely as an attempt at appeasing him he added: "I'm Aragorn, son of Arathorn."

Like hell if he was giving this guy his real name. Besides, he'd already introduced himself as Aragorn to Nocta. He had a reputation to keep around these parts.

Leonard straightened. How could he possibly let Gondor down?

[Zaxal]

Carlton raised an eyebrow at the potato-y things that the man had apparently gotten from the kitchen. He'd ask about those, too, but due to the circumstances, he couldn't quite put them up at the top of his list of things to be concerned about.

Besides, once the brown firelizard took to attacking them, he doubted anyone else would want them. Sonora peeked around Hers at her brother. Carlton growled, "Stay," but she was already unwinding her tail and quickly taking off, gliding towards Sheldon and cheeping. These things looked interesting. What were they? Were they good? She landed next to them and poked one with forefoot, jumping backwards when it rocked back towards her. She poked at it again and skittered backwards, walking around it cautiously before looking to Sheldon as if he might have the answers.

Carlton intended to keep a careful eye on the firelizards, but Sonora didn't seem to be in any immediate danger. If she were, she would fly back to him. Reluctantly, he tore his eyes away, fixing his glare on the glitch in the world around him.

His lips twitched into a faint smirk when the man stepped away, but being intimidated was only part of the dance. Especially when he lied so easily not even a moment later. "Really," he said, almost growling. "Because, you know, I was under the impression that he was a damn sight taller not to mention fictional." He wasn't a movie buff by any means, but Carlton wasn't a hermit. If 'Aragorn' was going to choose an alias, he could have gone for something less conspicuous.

"Let's try that again, and how about this time, you don't lie to me." His smirk fell away into a serious scowl. "Just a suggestion."

[Inouken]

Leonard found himself wishing not for the first time that his subconscious had been decent enough to weave Inception's concept of dream manipulation into his bizarre coma/nightmare/hellhole. He'd be able to conjure Aragorn's sword, Narsil, with just a thought, would be able to defend himself in the true spirit of the Rangers of the North. Not to mention, he could actually look like Viggo Mortensen: rugged, handsome, and more importantly, a good head taller than his own genetics had deemed appropriate.

Leonard took a deep breath and angled his chin up to compensate for maybe a centimeter of difference, but he couldn't help but notice that if things turned ugly, this guy had a distinct height advantage. What was he doing in his apartment, anyway? Perhaps he really had been recruited by the kitchen staff to serve as a security guard, like some kind of food nazi or rent-a-cop.

He certainly seemed qualified for the position, Leonard noted dully, his eyes scanning the man once more before stopping on the green firelizard on his shoulder. In his panic he hadn't noticed the green at first, but now she was sailing down, down, down towards Sheldon, and Leonard winced, sensing over their mental bond that Sheldon wasn't entirely pleased with the development.

Sheldon gave an indignant sniff, watching his sister go about the scientific method all wrong. She had to be confident in her approach. He pushed the closest tuber with no fear, craning his neck in self-congratulatory triumph when it wobbled just as he predicted. He wasn't sure what it meant at all, but the thing came from the kitchen so clearly there was no reason to be afraid of it. Simple logic. He nudged his tuber toward Sonora and waited expectantly for her to try her experiment again, but properly this time.

Leonard snorted with quiet amusement, but was soon distracted when the stranger accused him of not only falsifying his identity but also simultaneously had reached the right conclusion about it. Leonard stared back at the man with wide eyes. He opened his mouth, but couldn't find any words.

This guy was the first of his hallucinations to put two and two together, to even comprehend that he had borrowed the name from popular literature. It was disorienting, in a way, nothing at all like the easy acceptance he had expected. The fact that the guy had made a rather rude height observation on top of it all only served to further Leonard's suspicions that somehow this hallucination was more in tune with Leonard than the others. He seemed familiar with the real world and Leonard's insecurities, and perhaps more troublingly, he seemed to know exactly how to pull those triggers.

Leonard couldn't help the sudden wave of ire that washed over him. Just who did this dickbag think he was? Acting like he had any right to accuse him of fabrication when his entire existence depended on Leonard fabricating him in the first place.

When the man prompted Leonard for his name again -- his real name-- Leonard crossed his arms, steeled his stance, and raised his chin to glare at him like the self-appointed Ranger of the North he was.

"I don't have to answer to you." Leonard narrowed his eyes, going for tough as he peered through his glasses. "Who are you to question my integrity, anyway? You're just about as fake as they get!"

[Zaxal]

Sonora watched her brother and nodded in vague understanding as he performed the trick properly. She rustled her wings and shifted her shoulders with another stiff nod -- if anyone had taken the time to observe, they might have realized she was imitating Hers. She backed up slightly before loping quickly towards it and touching the tuber. It rocked forward, rolled, and she leaped into the air, flapping her wings as she trilled in delight. She conquered the thing! She landed, looking to Sheldon expectantly, eyes whirring a pleased blue.

Carlton's eyes narrowed when the liar raised his chin. He crossed his arms -- a classic defensive stance which made Carlton almost smile in victory. If he needed proof that he was lying about his identity, there it was. Especially since he didn't bother even denying the lie before he began making excuses for why he didn't have to answer.

Carlton supposed that wasn't far from the truth. He was so far out of his jurisdiction that he wasn't sure there was any such thing as jurisdiction here. "Fake?" He took a few stiff steps closer, bringing his shoulders up and straightening his back, pulling him up to his full height.

"I," he said, his voice pitched low, the way he always did when trying to intimidate someone into complying, "am Carlton Lassiter. Head Detective." He reached into the pocket of his slacks, pulling his badge out and flashing the gold directly where the little bastard could see it in all of its glory. "I am as real as I can get, and I'm more than a little pissed off that I'm not in Santa Barbara where I belong. So I suggest you start giving me answers because the hard way is a lot harder for you than it is for me."

The threat was probably not legitimate. Probably. He hadn't quite decided yet. Sonora cheeped chidingly nearby, though it seemed to be more directed at Sheldon and His instead of her own bonded.

[Inouken]

Sheldon's eyes whirred orange. He huffed in agitation, tail twitching in quick, sharp jerks. The point of an experiment was not to engage in fun and games, as his sister seemed to believe. The point of an experiment was to engage in science. Experiments were for serious firelizards, which apparently his sister was not! He took the tuber back into his possession, digging his claws in to forcibly still it. It occurred to Sheldon that he should alert his bonded that his tubers were being wrongfully utilized, but one glance at Leonard made it obvious he was momentarily occupied with issues of his own.

Leonard awkwardly readjusted his arms, crossing them tighter when the stranger stepped closer, straightening to his full height. His intimidating posturing reminded Leonard almost instantly of every bully he'd ever known. He used to cave so easily as a child, doing whatever they demanded on the off chance that they wouldn't humiliate him or cause him bodily harm.

Well, this was his playground now, bitches, with just the right mixture of subconscious desolation and Dungeons and Dragons crap to prove it.

Petty defiance welled inside of him, but he found himself faltering when the stranger --Carlton Lassiter he had called himself-- flashed a detective's shield in his face.

Even if this was Leonard's playground, he didn't know squat about the parameters that governed it on a civicultural level. The possibility that the kitchen had actually sent law enforcement to do lord knows what to him weighed heavy on his mind. Then, the detective spoke again, raising more questions and uncertainty than Leonard was quite prepared for.

"Santa Barbara?" he said, squinting. His arms dropped to their usual waist-high position as he began fidgeting with his hands. "You mean, like, Santa Barbara, California?"

There was a chance, however remote, that this "Head Detective Carlton Lassiter" was referring to another city in another place, but something in Leonard's gut told him that wasn't it. His accent paired with his preemptory attitude was definitively Californian.

It made Leonard itch. Just knowing that his subconscious was bringing up a familiar location when he had no ties to place, professionally or otherwise, meant that he was missing something.

Eyeing the detective warily, Leonard crossed the short distance to his makeshift workstation and picked up a small glass bulb. He was determined to figure the crabby dickwad out, but first he had to clear the air on one particular point.

"Before you answer the last question," Leonard said, meeting the detective's eyes in challenge, although he rubbed the glass nervously, "are you here because of the tubers? Because I can explain the tubers. I swear it was for a good and noble cause."

[Zaxal]

Sonora's eyes began to whir a distressed yellow at Sheldon's apparent displeasure. But she had done so well! The silly tuber thing had rolled over. Did he not understand his own game? She chattered at him and preened at her wings, sitting primly away from the tubers. He could have the filthy things, she was obviously above all of his silly games anyway. He could not appreciate her playing, then she would simply not play. Yet even so, she kept an eye on him, secretly hoping that he did want her to play with him.

Carlton nodded slowly, his suspicions feeling more confirmed and certain than they had since his arrival. However, he was immediately thrown for a loop at the question 'Aragorn' asked. Years of interrogations had him asking reflexively even though he really didn't care, "Did you steal them?"

He shook the thought away. There were more important things to be concerned with, "Yes. Santa Barbara, California. And seeing as you're the only person I've met so far who has any idea where that is, I think we should have a talk."

Carlton shifted his weight, resting his hands on his hips. His voice softened, offering clemency if the guy would just work with him, "Listen. Let's make this easy on both of us. You tell me what you know, and I'll make sure the right people know that you were cooperative."

He glanced towards the firelizards, faltering. Sonora was real. He knew that, knew her. But... but she couldn't be. "How did you do this?"

[Inouken]

As Sonora retreated, Sheldon watched suspiciously, half expecting her to leap into the air so she could make another pass. When it became apparent that she had given up the game, however, his eyes returned to a calmer blue. Sitting on the sidelines was the perfect place for his sister. Now she could observe without interference and take in a true master of science! He rustled his wings in preparation and rocked another tuber, then another until all of them swayed in motion. He cheeped excitedly at his discovery, looking to His for recognition on a job well done.

Leonard peripherally sensed his firelizard's excitement, the warm spike of pride radiating towards him, but when the detective answered his question, Leonard couldn't help but to grimace at the accusation in his tone. "I wouldn't call it stealing exactly. More like, um, reappropriation?" With a weak grin, he sank to his knees beside the two firelizards, and gave Sheldon a congratulatory scratch under the chin. Then he waited for it to happen.

The inevitable reaming that the detective would give him for confessing to a crime.

It would be just like his psyche to do it, to dish out punishment for yet another moment of weakness, but much to Leonard's relief and relative surprise, the detective batted the topic away without a lick of interest. He wasn't here about the tubers, then.

Leonard felt himself relax a little. Just an iota, really, because there was still the myriad of questions that circled this subconscious anomaly. Why did he claim to be from Santa Barbara, for one thing, and why would being from that area encourage the detective to seek Leonard out? Mulling it over, Leonard withdrew two tubers from the pile just as the detective offered to cut him a deal. So there it was; the guy legitimately thought he was a criminal, but for something more substantial than petty theft.

Leonard's mouth drew into a thin line. He hadn't been to Santa Barbara in years, let alone done anything illegal there. He was just about to say as much, when the detective continued, catching Leonard completely off-guard.

Following the detective's gaze, Leonard asked with caution, "Wait, what exactly do you think this is?" He took two, thin strips of metal dangling from the end of the glass bulb he was holding and began threading them through the tubers.

He'd let the hallucination spin his own tale for now. Leonard hoped, if anything, that it would shed some light on a situation that was quickly becoming more impenetrable than his roommate's six-loop quantum gravity calculations.

[Zaxal]

They weren't even moving that much. Sonora sniffed and wandered close again as they all rocked under Sheldon's attentions. When one began to slow, she pushed it gently, just enough to make it rock again. Was that it? She sat back on her haunches, watching the minute movements, perplexed. When Sheldon's bonded came near, she cheeped in inquiry. Perhaps he understood what Sheldon was doing?

Carlton filed that note away for later, something to tell the kitchen staff if they actually were kitchen staff and not actors in an elaborate scheme to make him think that he had gone insane. He may not actually have power here, but there was no reason that someone should be stealing food for... whatever what going on in the general area of the workstation. He distantly remembered science projects and his nephew Victoria's nephew going on about something involving potatoes and lightbulbs, but Carlton had been distracted by a case. Always, he thought with a small inward sigh, distracted by a case.

So this was it. Somehow, this was where he was supposed to trip up, prove that he'd fallen for this cruel joke that had found him at the worst moment and exacerbated it to the point of pain.

Like hell would he give anyone the satisfaction.

And as for the man not paying attention to him? Carlton's eyes narrowed, and he sneered. He could take five minute out of his apparently busy schedule to look him in the goddamn eye. Carlton crossed the distance between them, grabbing the man's shoulder and pulling him up and back, forcing him to at least look in his direction.

"I think," he began, all mercy gone from his tone, "that you or someone you work for was paid a hefty sum to try and make me lose my mind or at least convince me that I had. It's not enough to have the whole sci-fi bullshit, but you. All normal and just enough to make me keep questioning what is and isn't real." His smile was grim, satisfied, having worked out everything clearly in his head. With a sneer, he demanded, "Tell me who you're working for."

[Inouken]

Just as Leonard had pulled the wires all the way through the tubers, he felt rough hands grab him by the shoulders, jostling him from his position. "Hey, wait, wait!" Leonard started. "You're going to--"

The bulb crashed to the floor, the sound sharp and piercing in Leonard's ears even as he was hauled away from it.

With some detachment, Leonard thought, Goddamnit.

Fingers dug further into his jacket, and Leonard thought, The glass had taken so long to reappropriate, too.

He felt a sharp tug, harsh and heavy-handed. For a split second, gravity deserted him, left him wheeling up through space until F = ma, wherein a is 0. Leonard lurched to a halt, then, was held motionless on his feet.

Wincing, he reached up to readjust his glasses and blinked as the detective's face swam into focus. His eyes were narrowed dangerously, his teeth set on edge.

Leonard stared back and wet his lips. His hands scrabbled for the detective's arms as he attempted to put some distance between them, but the detective's grip held firmly, his voice so hostile that for a moment Leonard's lungs shriveled up under his ribs. This wasn't looking potentially safe or promising.

What had he said to set the guy off? What had he done? He was missing the catalytic event, and Leonard's mind raced, tripping over itself to find it before the detective ultimately spat it out in a long litany of accusations.

"I'm sorry, what?" Leonard's voice cracked, incredulous. He knit his brow, struggling to process whatever metaphorical message his subconscious was sending with this bullshit. "What do you mean, who am I working for? That's the most ridiculous-- the California Institute of Technology, who else!" he snapped. And then he froze. His heart jackhammered in his chest like a panicked animal. He had let the truth slip out, something important about his real identity that he didn't want anyone here to know. That he could be so careless worried him greatly, and he cleared his throat, forcing himself to hold the detective's gaze even as his voice began to tremble.

"Look, this isn't what you think, okay? I'm not a felon and you're not a cop. I mean, psychologically it's interesting that I would project a cop from a city that I hardly ever visit who thinks that's the case, but that's, it's beside the point." Leonard shifted, vaguely aware of Sheldon chattering menacingly at Sonora's bonded as he himself tried so valiantly to sound strong.

"You're just a hallucination in my head," Leonard said, glaring at the detective, "and I want you to leave me alone."

[Zaxal]

The moment the bulb broke, Sonora leaped into the air, flying to Carlton's shoulder and staring at the broken glass, eyes whirring a concerned red. She tucked her head under Carlton's jaw, curling close, her rough hide and headknobs rubbing at his stubble. Carlton promised silently that he would protect her. She nuzzled; she knew he would.

Carlton took no enjoyment out of being more physically powerful than someone smaller than him (not quite true; he liked it a little), and the details the man let slip didn't make him feel any satisfaction. So, he was from California. And he didn't want Carlton to know.

When he held his gaze, Carlton's eyebrows lowered, eyes narrowing, daring him to lie.

The next few sentences out of his mouth threw Carlton for a loop. His grip faltered, loosening just enough in shock before he reached out with his other hand, gripping his shirt and snarling, "I'm real, you sorry sack of..." He closed his eyes, fighting off the overwhelming rage and... well, sorrow at his own life. What he wouldn't give to be a hallucination.

Sonora licked his jaw and crooned softly. He was Hers. Surely he didn't want to leave her?

"No," he agreed softly letting the other man go. "Figures someone like you would have a god complex. Hate to break it to you, but I'm as real as you are. 40 years of living, almost 20 spent in the service of the fine city of Santa Barbara. You didn't imagine me up, and I'm not going anywhere until I get some answers."

[Inouken]

The detective's hands gripped his jacket tighter, and all Leonard could think was: He's going to punch me in the face.

He had provoked one of the shadows of his subconscious prison. He'd challenged the authority it had over its perceived domain, and now it was going to wallop him good if its murderous expression was any indication.

Bracing himself, Leonard raised his chin defiantly to divert his attention away from just how badly his hands were shaking. He felt Sheldon land on his shoulder not a second later, knowing without looking that Sheldon's teeth were bared, that he would dive to protect him the moment he was needed.

Thankfully, that moment never came.

Leonard let out a heavy breath when the detective released him and allowed him to stagger backwards, away from the threat of broken glasses or teeth. He brushed himself off, pulse still pounding in his ears but receding just enough to make the detective's next words audible and appreciatively alarming.

"What," Leonard deadpanned. "You think I have a what?"

Sheldon tilted his head and chirped curiously at him.

"A god complex?"

Leonard ran a hand through his hair and took another step back. "Wow, yeah, good one. I have a god complex." The idea was so absurd Leonard wanted to laugh, but he shook his head instead, fixing the detective with a grim smile. "You couldn't be further from the truth if you were Archaic Greece explaining that the Earth was flat. I mean, what is it that you think? That I have delusions of grandeur so I created a little fantasy kingdom where I could pull all the strings and watch as my 'subjects' bow down to my ministrations?" Maybe Sheldon would, Leonard thought bitterly. His roommate, Sheldon, would.

He frowned, reaching down and scooping up his failed experiment before yanking the metal strands out with a sharp tug. He'd have to start over again. Find another bulb, repair the filaments. He glared at the detective, the one hallucination with any kind of connection to reality who still managed to make him feel so inescapably stranded and alone.

"What answers are you looking for?" Leonard asked, voice strained. "What answers could my subconscious possibly want to know? For the first time in my life, I felt needed and was important to someone. I was loved by someone, but now I can't be with her because I'm here with you in this Dungeons and Dragons nightmare that never seems to end!"

Sheldon's claws dug into his shoulder, then, sharp and nearly breaking the skin. Not out of anger, Leonard realized with a wince, but distress. It radiated from Sheldon in waves and made Leonard feel surprisingly guilty. Despite being just another piece of his psychosomatic puzzle, Sheldon was his only friend here, a grounding point in his otherwise unstable environment. He shut his eyes, offering a silent apology, which Sheldon accepted by giving him a quick lick to the side of his face.

"Believe me," Leonard started again, looking back to the detective with a glare, "I'm not here by choice, but you should already know that, seeing as how you don't particularly want to be here, either."

[Zaxal]

Carlton didn't miss the way he lifted his head, trying to seem brave in the face of something bigger and presumably stronger than him. Carlton managed to drudge up a little respect for him -- he'd almost expected him to flinch, cringe, and give in. While that might've been the object, Carlton admired people with actual backbone.

Though his denial was more than a little amusing. The little dork seemed to get it. Yes, he'd worked through Carlton's logic perfectly, but he still vehemently resisted. It was as annoying as it was interesting.

Once he'd reached the obvious conclusion, Carlton discovered he could only manage more frustration at his circumstances. This guy was obviously nuts. Just his luck.

He didn't flinch at the accusation. Simply raised his chin and squared his shoulders, making it clear that he wasn't going to leave. "What answers could I possibly want? How about something simple. Your name. Your real name. We can move on from there."

As for being blamed as being part of the cause of someone's misery? Please. This guy had Carlton's ex-wife and mother to contend with.

"So you're not responsible for this," he clarified, trying not to let the way his heart began to thunder and head spin at the scary realization that hovered on the edges of his consciousness make him waver physically. "And why should I believe you?"

Never mind that he already did. He could deal with that later, break down in the peace and quiet of his apartment where no one but Sonora and maybe God would be witness to it.

[Inouken]

Leonard tossed the tubers and strands of metal on his workstation before retreating to the other side of the table. He braced his hands on the wooden surface, creased his brows as the man once again asked him for his real name.

It was unsettling how insistent the guy was, how intent he seemed on getting Leonard to confess his identity. "Who are you?" he had said, the first words he had spoken after busting into Leonard's apartment, like the entire reason he existed in Leonard's subconscious was to ask this one question in the first place.

Who are you?

Or as Leonard's mother would say, it was the one question people asked themselves when their personal accomplishments were so negligible they might as well skip the pity party and embrace the futility of their existence.

"Frankly, Leonard," she had continued, "with your persistent inferiority complex, I find it difficult to believe that the question isn't your personal mantra by now."

Leonard rubbed at the space between his brows before narrowing his eyes at the detective. God, he hated his subconscious so much he could barely see. He didn't want to give it the satisfaction of getting the best of him, but more than that, he didn't want to risk spouting off another pseudonym when past experience showed that the guy knew his fictional names at the very least. Leonard grit his teeth. He just wanted the damn bastard to leave him the hell alone.

"You want my real name? Fine," he said bitterly. "It's Leonard. Dr. Leonard Hofstadter. I have a PhD in Experimental Physics, and a FYI in Lord knows what I'm doing here. That good enough for you?" He sighed, suddenly feeling drained and thoroughly done with this conversation.

"Look," he said. His voice softened, though the tone he used was still dry. "You can believe me or not, accept my name or not, but basic physics can tell you this place isn't real. Dragons aren't just fictitious, they're physically impossible. Given their body to wing-span ratio, their wing muscles would have to be made from dielectric elastomers to achieve the required strength and power densities needed to maintain flight for any significant length of time."

Leonard took a breath and peered into the detective's face for any evidence of comprehension. Maybe if he could introduce logic into the equation, he could blow holes in his overall delusion and wake up again, forgetting that any of this had ever happened.

[Zaxal]

Carlton took note of Leonard's name the way he did for any suspect. He wasn't lying this time, he was fairly sure of that (no one would happen to make up the surname Hofstadter, he was fairly sure), nor would he make up his credentials so easily. However, Carlton could keep his frown from deepening. Experimental Physics didn't sound... well, capable of creating something like this.

He wouldn't voice that aloud. On the one hand, he didn't need an academic waxing poetic about how intelligent they were, and on the other, he felt helplessly lost. His one lead was gone. And unlike the real world, another one wouldn't be delivered to him on a silver platter by a silver-tongued son of a bitch who always knew too much and, irritatingly, always helped when Carlton needed it most.

The explanation went clear over his head. He shrugged. "I don't know anything about physics. But I know those things can fly and apparently teleport. It doesn't make sense, but it's there and happening. No use pretending they don't."

It was his own surrender to the logic of the world around him. Sonora nuzzled under his ear, thrumming pleasantly now that he'd finally gotten onto the same page as the rest of Pern.

Aware that he had barged in and accused an innocent man of something he clearly wasn't guilty of, Carlton's shoulders dropped momentarily before lifting up again as he lifted his chin, determined to face his failings with as much dignity as he could muster. "I'm sorry for busting in here like that. And accusing you." His eyes dropped to the tubers and wires. Reluctantly, he added, "And breaking your... science project, Dr. Hofstadter." Carlton released a quick, quiet sigh. "All of this is just completely fucking nuts, you know? If you had answers, I had to try my best to get them for myself."

It was the best apology he could muster. "I'll leave you to it."