Series » Unconditional Love / Ever After Hub » High Pressure Low
High Pressure Low
2025
19 July
She tossed.
She turned.
She checked her alarm clock. The little digital sticks and dots that made up the numbers and symbols on its face stared back at her, reading: '3:31 AM'. Ilse sighed. It had been more than three hours since Jay had gone to sleep, leaving her to sit and ponder. Alone.
Had this been a few years ago, she would have had no problem with being alone. Or at least that's what she told herself, anyway. Sure, every now and then someone would come and press their hand to the glass which confined her from the world and they would be able to talk for a few minutes. Sure, Rydderech, Scout and McInnis had made it a point to visit her often. Sure, she would get new learning material from junior researchers and they were often polite enough to engage with her.
But it wasn't the same, and it never could be.
Ilse had been lonesome long before she had been stranded for nearly a century. She was, after all, a woman in a male-dominated field. It wasn't that she felt disrespected; far from it. The Foundation had been pretty forward-thinking for the time and her fellow coworkers had treated her fairly, but she hadn't quite fit in no matter what she did. Whether this was because she wasn't comfortable in her own skin as a 'cis' woman even back then or because she was too bookish, she still didn't know.
The feeling had only worsened over time. She recalled when she used to be SCP-5616 instead of Dr. Reynders and had been referred to as such by the people she'd once worked with. They hadn't been friends before, but after the accident they had become less than associates. Except, of course, for Rydderech and Scout, and later McInnis. But two or three out of a few hundred was hardly a notable figure. Everyone else had treated her as a tragic bird, stuck in a cage.
But she supposed that had suited her.
Even now that she had reclaimed her freedom, she was still bound to the immediate area by order of the Foundation. She couldn't visit her parents' graves. She couldn't see the fields full of tulips again. She couldn't go to a coffee shop and have a stroopwafel.
It wasn't all that bad, though.
Jay had attended a conference at Site-DE6, a skip and a hop away from her hometown, and had taken a few pictures of the countryside and of her parents' graves, where they left flowers and a letter written by her. Jay always made sure to bring her tulips when they came to town, a tradition that started when she had gotten her 17th PhD; specifically one in Jay's field. And to top it all off, Jay bought a stroopwafel kit during their time in the Netherlands and ordered special batter from the internet, then attempted making the treats for her. They never tasted quite the same as the ones made by professionals, but something made by one's partner had a way of tasting good regardless.
Partner.
Ilse had never had a romantic partner before Jay. She had been too busy with her studies, too busy with her work, too busy being stuck in the ADDC for that. Despite them being born generations apart, Jay and Ilse had plenty in common and the two had a way of understanding each other that outsiders to their relationship did not possess. It felt nice, good even, to be in a relationship; to have someone care so much about you that they talk to you every day not out of obligation, but because they appreciate your company and want to see you do well.
But Jay worked at Site-55, and Ilse was bound to Site-43. The distance between them wasn't an entire world, but they were still separated by an inland ocean and Jay often had to travel for their position. This led to many instances where they called her at odd times or they had to miss their calls altogether for a day or two. Though Ilse was fiercely independent, or at least as independent as an anomaly under purview of the Foundation could be, she couldn't help but feel helpless.
She turned.
She tossed.
She looked ahead to the full-body mirror in the corner of the room, staring at her reflection. Ilse sighed and sat up in bed, swinging her legs out to the floor and standing up. Light filled the room as she tugged on the pull chain of her lamp. Glasses on, phone in hand, she headed downstairs to the kitchen, where she grabbed a matcha tea packet and set water to boil after switching on the light.
"Verdomme."
Ilse set the phone down on the counter and covered her face with her hands, sighing deeply. She didn't know how she was feeling. She didn't know how she felt about a lot of things recently. As much as she liked being with Jay, she felt that the fact she was immortal and they weren't was a sore spot. Then there was also the fact that they were long distance. Sure, they visited often, more than they probably should, but the distance still caused Ilse to ache. She lowered her hands and grumbled.
The kettle whistled. Ilse tore open the plastic pouch the teabag came in and poured herself a cup of boiling hot water, then left the teabag in to steep. She glanced at the stove's clock. '3:59 AM'.
What was she going to tell Jay after all this time? It had been nearly… God, how long had it been? A year? It was hard to tell after spending so much time in one place. She shook her head and blinked. The kitchen started to smell like the bitter green drink she had come to love, meaning that the steeping was almost done. Her phone vibrated just as she was about to reach for her mug. With another heavy sigh, she turned it over, and much to her surprise, saw that Jay was calling.
She answered.
"Hello? Jay? It's 4AM, what are you doing up?"
"Ilse! I have great news!"
"What is it?"
"My transfer to 43 has been approved!" She could tell they were beaming.
Ilse was quiet.
"We can be together full time now!" Jay continued.
"Jay, I—"
"And James is gonna come too! You get to meet him finally!"
"Jay…"
"Yeah, Ilse?"
"I… I don't know how I feel about us being together right now."
A pause.
Ilse normally wasn't bothered by lulls in conversation between herself and Jay. She was comfortable in the silence of being around someone else, especially someone who she liked. In fact, she was comfortable in almost all forms of silence. Yet another benefit of being trapped in ADDC, she supposed. But this silence felt like it had somehow hurt not just Jay, but her.
"What do you mean?" Jay broke the silence.
"I don't think I'm ready for a relationship this committed yet. I feel like… I feel like the world is closing in on me. I feel… so much. But… I don't know. I still like you… a lot. But. I don't know. I think that what happened to me did a number on me, more than I can manage alone," her eyes teared up as she spoke. "I don't know. Sorry."
Another pause, this one felt like it stretched for hours.
Jay spoke again: "Okay."
Ilse breathed heavily.
"What do you mean 'okay'?"
"Sorry. What I mean is that I understand if you need space. Do you want me to stay at 55?"
"No," she answered reflexively.
"Okay. I can ask for accommodations at Site-43 with James so you have the house to yourself, don't worry. I still think you're great, by the way. In the exact same way as I did back when I first did."
Ilse smiled to herself.
"Thank you for understanding."
"Of course," Jay replied. "Is there anything else you would like for me to do or not do while I'm settling in?"
"I'll tell you as it happens."
"Okay. Are we still on to skip stones on the beach next week?"
"Yes, dear."
"Can I ask that we do something together aside from that, you and I? I think we need to do it."
Ilse blinked.
"That depends on what it is."
"I want us to see Ngo together. As a couple."
2025
26 July
Ilse stared out onto Lake Huron, toes dug into the pebbles at her feet. The sound of the waves gently lapping at the shoreline a few meters ahead of her was carried onward by a fresh summer breeze; it reminded her that she was alive, and that was a beautiful fact. She inhaled deeply, shutting her eyes as she did so, leaning back on the beach towel she rested on. Her eyes remained shut as they exhaled slowly.
The world was quiet here.
She opened their eyes. The walls had closed in. The ADDC. She was back. As if she'd never left. She ran up to the thick glass, banged on it repeatedly. She screamed. She clutched the sides of her head ripping out chunks of her hair, only for it to move back onto her head and re-insert itself into her hair follicles. She was trapped once more.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,
"Ilse? Ilse…? Ilse! ILSE!"
Jay's voice stirred her out of the fugue state. She shook her head and blinked a few times before nodding.
"It was just a daydream…" she sighed.
"What happened? The room again?" they took a seat at their side on a beach towel of their own.
"Yes."
"I'm sorry." They put their only arm around Reynders in an approximation of a hug. "I know you don't like to talk about it, but I'm always here for you, okay?" Jay offered a gentle smile and leaned their head on Ilse's shoulder.
"I know," she replied flatly.
Jay's smile slowly faded as they took back their arm, then moved to sit in front of her. " Ilse, you don't have to carry the burden of your trauma on your own."
"That doesn't mean I should trouble you with it." She stared blankly out into Lake Huron. A wood duck flew overhead and quacked, causing them to lose their focus. "Godverdomme."
"Dutch is so close to being a real language, and then you say things like that. Come on, Ilse. If you want me to believe that your silly conlang is real, you'll have to try harder than that." Jay smiled again.
Reynders rolled her eyes but ultimately smiled meekly.
"There's that smile." Jay laughed, resting their head on her shoulder.
Reynders made a face. "Oh ja? Ik ben er anders nog niet zo zeker van dat Spaans geen onzin is."
"Sorry, but I don't speak your goofy conlang. Pero si prefieres hablar en un idioma real, siempre podemos reiniciar tus lecciones de español." Jay snickered, moving their hand down to their partner's lap, taking one of her hands in their own.
"Oh yeah? Well, sorry Jay, but I don't speak your goofy conlang." She stuck her tongue out and rasberried at them, thumbing their hand gently.
"Hey! The Royal Spanish Academy is real! They dictate what is and isn't real Spanish, thank you very much, and every word I have spoken to you is real Spanish. You're just upset my language is more widely used than yours."
"Am not."
"I would have expected a better argument from the smartest person on Earth. Seventeen PhDs, and the best you can do is 'am not'? I'm disappointed." Jay frowned, feigning indignance.
"Shut up." Ilse laughed.
"Why don't you make me?"
"I have the arm and PhD advantage."
Jay's jaw hung low, staying quiet for a moment before finally speaking; "Wow. I can't believe you would go there."
Reynders blinked and let go of their hand. "Jeetje! I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking. I'm so sor—"
Her partner merely laughed. Ilse stared in confusion.
"You should have seen the look on your face!" Jay continued to laugh. "You're fine, Ilse. It's okay, I'm not offended."
"Jij miezerige—"
"Discount German aga—" Before Jay could finish their next insult against the Dutch language, Reynders had jumped on them and knocked them both off the beach towels. They both laughed as they rolled about on the pebbles and sand, kicking up a small dust storm.
Eventually, they came to a stop; side by side, Reynders' glasses left behind somewhere on the pebbles behind them, both their hair tangled up in each other's, breathless, smiling, chests heaving. They stared into each other's eyes; Reynders' blues gazing lovingly into Jay's own hazel.
"Jay, I…"
"Yeah?" They looked at her longingly.
Silence.
"… sorry." Reynders sighed, moving herself to face away. Jay bit their lip and sat up, struggling a bit as they only had one arm with which to prop themselves up.
"What's on your mind?" They crossed their legs and gently placed a hand on their partner's shoulder.
"I… we shouldn't be together," she mumbled.
"You what?"
"We shouldn't be together," she repeated, louder this time. "Even after getting out of that damn incinerator, I don't age. Everyone I will ever meet will inevitably die and I will be left alone on this planet sooner or later, just like how it was in that verdomde incinerator."
Jay sighed. "Ilse…"
"Don't 'Ilse' me. You and I both know that our little fling was doomed from day one. I should have known better. I really should have, but I decided to be selfish." Reynders continued to face away from her partner. Jay placed their hand on her shoulder, only for it to be shrugged off.
"I've known that you didn't age since before we even met. That doesn't make me like you less. I know that you will inevitably outlive me. I'm a mayfly and you're a tortoise. Or a Greenland shark. Or whatever. This analogy is getting away from me." Jay let out a quiet laugh. "My point is; I love you. After all, ‘tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."
Reynders sat up and turned to face Jay, her eyes bloodshot.
Jay offered a kind smile and spoke softly; "And it would be a shame if we weren't together, wouldn't it? Two deeply traumatized polyglots who couldn't cut it as cis women. You could make a sitcom out of that. Not a good one, but you could."
She sniffled and let out an ugly laugh. Her partner laughed as well, though quietly. Eventually, Reynders stood up, as did Jay. They embraced silently as the sun set in the distance.
"Jay?"
"Yeah?"
"Promise me you won't tell Ngo about today."
Silence, interrupted only by the sound of Lake Huron's waters lapping against the shore.
"Jay?"
"I promise."
Reynders' grip on Jay tightened for a brief moment.
Silence again, accentuated by quacking wood ducks flying towards the setting sun in the distance.
"Jay?"
"Yes?"
"Ik hou ook van jou."
"What does that mean?"
"Don't worry about it."
