You don't want to meet Monty, [ he says, lips pursed and looking just a tad bit petulant, actually, ] He likes astrology. [ but because he's got to be fair, he huffs and adds, ] I mean, he did save my ass eventually, back in crow form, so... I guess he's fine.
[ and then he's forgetting all about monty, because junpei is fixing him with a look, and he promptly loses all ability to worry about anything else except him, and the way the eventual answer makes him frown. ]
So... [ so if he's no longer shifting, then he won't know what happens to the other timelines, right? yeah, he's definitely seeing how the time travel actually really sucks. ]
Hey, [ he says instead, lifting his hand and cupping junpei's cheek. ] Those other timelines... they're not your responsibility. I know you know that, but just — making sure, yeah?
[Astrology, oh no... Well, that gets Junpei to laugh, if quietly. Okay, okay, Monty gets a tentative pass, he supposes?] Should I be asking all the crows I see if they're really some guy, just in case?
[No, he won't do this, it's fine. He tilts into Charles' touch, closing his eyes with another sigh. It's another objective fact, right, that he's not responsible for all those other timelines - well, not according to fucking Aldrip, but never mind that now - and this one he mostly believes, if only because thinking about it makes him want to rip out his own brain stem. This is the train of thought that turned Akane into the person she is, isn't it? It's not a good one.
So,] Yeah, I know. I told you this is the timeline we get, remember? I'm not going back on that.
[ the little quip makes all this feel just a bit lighter, despite everything — and charles smiles at him, brushes his thumb against his cheek as junpei leans against his hand. ] Nah, the crows don't talk. Only cats do.
[ but enough about that... there's a moment he feels yet another wave of overwhelming sadness for junpei and the way he may know this, the timelines not being something he should deal with... and yet he's still forced to know of them, know that he could try, but has to choose not to do it.
instead of crying about it this time, though, charles moves his hand to the back of junpei's neck, pulls him down enough so he can lift his head to give him a gentle kiss. ]
Good. And any time you need a reminder, well... I'm here.
The— okay, sure. [Sure, why not, that's hardly the weirdest thing that's even been said in the past five minutes. Why doesn't he get to talk to cats...
Unimportant; important is Charles and his unwavering support, the way he says he'll always be there and Junpei believes it, because he has been. Leaning down to kiss him feels like a punctuation mark on that, tying it off with a silent acknowledgement, yes, he knows, and he's lucky for it.
He lingers close, hovering there, brow knit. The sick and greasy thing that lives in his stomach twists into another impossible knot, darkens his thoughts in a bid to not be mentioned, no matter how many insane things he's already said that Charles has accepted, surely, surely... He hasn't asked anything else, so therefore, Junpei is off the hook, he doesn't have to say anything else, and that's going back on his word already, huh.]
I don't know how to say any of this without blowing it off, [he says, so, fair warning if he somehow turns this into a "yippee, life sucks!" moment again, in advance,] But I think I... hang on.
[Hold on, one moment please. Hmnh.] All of that shit, I think it fucked me up real bad? I mean, I should at least cry about it, right? What the hell is wrong with me?
[ he doesn't get to talk to cats because he's not dead, key thing there —
anyway, yes, definitely unimportant in the grand scheme of things, and even more specifically in the context of this conversation; and it's not a conversation that's over, either, because despite charles' lack of a follow-up question, junpei continues to speak, prefacing his words with a quiet warning and charles braces himself, then... a good thing, too, because the bluntness of it, when junpei finally manages to wrench the words out, well — it stabs right at the center of him in a completely different way than the craziness of everything he's just learned did.
because this is about junpei himself, again, and charles wants nothing more than for him to be okay — and he knows that that's just not the way things are, would have known it even without junpei spelling it out like this, and can his heart break for the third time in, what, an hour? it's certainly making its best effort to do just that.
gently, he lifts his hand, runs it through junpei's hair. ]
There's nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. I mean — [ a breath, then, because he needs to rephrase this, ] There is, but that's what's not wrong, yeah? What you've been through would've fucked anyone up. What would be wrong would be... expecting you to just be fine after all of that.
[ with a sad, small smile that's the barest twist of his lips, ] I've seen this a couple of times, over the years. When stuff just gets so much that you — I don't know, lock it away, I guess? When feeling anything about it hurts so much it's easier to not feel anything.
[ he sighs, because those have been — well, cases he'd much prefer not to remember, and to think junpei's feeling that exact same thing, now... but no, he can hold himself together. he can't afford anything else, right now. ] So my best guess is that's what you're doing.
There's nothing wrong with me because there is something wrong with me? Huh. [Wry and a little teasing, despite himself; it's phrased awkwardly indeed, but it's from Charles, and so it carries more weight to Junpei than anything anyone else might have offered. He likes to think he isn't so far gone that he can't stop to make quips, so: quips.
Then he settles in to let Charles' words wash over him, scooting down to rest his head on Charles' chest properly now, taking hold of Charles' hand in his hair to thread their fingers together.
Locking it away, not feeling anything— he'd said that to Carlos and Akane, about probably going numb, and then? The Decision Game had forced him to feel everything all at once in the longest adrenaline rush of all time, so much that suddenly arriving in Aldrip and having nothing to do but get a normal, boring job and hang around seemed, at first, to be—healing. He wonders now if it's been little more than an emotional rest stop, just waiting for him to get back to the total breakdown that's probably inevitable.
He says,] Well, I should kick my ass for that, because it sucks.
[It's all he's got; saying it at all took this long, and he only doesn't shove away from it entirely again because Charles doesn't shove away from it. Junpei squeezes his hand in silent thanks for being there, for not telling him he's just wrong and these things "aren't him," or whatever.]
You've seen people do this before? What'd they do about it?
Right, could've phrased that better, [ charles mutters, a little sheepish — but he hopes it gets the point across, regardless. what's important is... well, not glossing over it, or trying to insist that nothing is wrong, because something very clearly is; so maybe it's more about making sure junpei knows that it's okay, for things to be wrong.
he squeezes junpei's hand, then, wraps his other arm tighter around him. ]
No, you shouldn't. Yeah, it sucks, but — you were dealt a shitty hand, and you did your best to survive with that. That's not nothing.
[ he sighs, then, looks at the ceiling for a moment, thinking. ]
The thing is... most of them were already dead. And when you're dead, well, all you've got is time. But what helped them move on? [ he sighs again, this time softer, glancing at junpei lying there against his chest. ]
Remember when I said detective stuff's real terrible sometimes, unless you have good ways to deal with it all? Turns out the best way to deal with anything's having support. Not being alone. So there's not, like, one way to process the stuff you've been through... but there's one difference to before and now, yeah? You're not alone anymore.
[Love to have something wrong with him... Junpei hums, although it's somewhat resigned; he really, really doesn't want to admit these things are there at all, let alone affecting him as much as they are. Too late for that, at this point, so. Oh well. He'd love to sulk about it, instead, but too late for that too?
And it's a shame there's no magic cheat code to just getting rid of all of this, huh. What is he supposed to do, go to therapy? Here, in the AI world? The AI can't build a therapist, that's a non-starter.
But he's not alone anymore, that's something. That's everything.]
...Right.
[Does he still deflate some, since there's no way forward except through, or however it goes? Yeah, kind of. It's a pain not to get it over with all at once!]
I'll... try? Probably going to take a while.
[They have plenty of time here, though, so there's that.
... .....okay, he's got his first Healing Activity, listen,] So there's this movie where a bunch of guys in an office take baseball bats and beat the shit out of their office's crappy fax machine. Can we do that to the bracelet?
[ if there was a magic cheat code, charles would have used one himself — but no, it's not that easy. ]
Hey, [ he says then, as junpei deflates, turning his head and pressing a soft kiss to junpei's hair, ] I know it's real hard to... say it, yeah? Admit that there's some shit you need to work through. So... I'm proud of you. Honest.
[ he hopes that his voice reflects his sincerity; because he is, he's so, so glad that junpei even managed so much as to talk about this. he'd know, right — the way it's so much easier to hold it all in, to pretend it's fine, to not have to face your own demons. ]
Trying's perfect. And take all the time you need, yeah? I'm not going anywhere. [ he's going to be here for him, forever if it's up to him.
the healing activity startles a laugh out of him; but he nods, of course. ]
Sure, love. You can borrow my bat. Or if you want, I can make you one to keep. [ if he wants an enchanted baseball bat... just in case. ]
[It's all a weird kind of embarrassing, even still. As much as Junpei appreciates Charles' support - and he does, it's a ballast, it's something to hold on to - there's still a part of him that wants to squirm away from all of this. To brush it off again and continue not thinking about it, just let it stand in the corner and pretend it isn't there.
So it's hard for him to say he feels better now. He feels more raw, he supposes, more exposed, a bit exhausted— in a way that doesn't feel like another sharp turn downward, at least. Good? Semi-good? Good enough.
He sighs and presses his face into Charles' chest directly, like maybe he can just live right here from now on, that'd be nice. Muffled,]
Okay. [...Just okay, because he can't keep saying thank you forever, so it's okay thank you and okay I love you and okay I'll need the help all tangled together. Okay.
After a moment he picks his head up, wait,] You can make magic bats? They don't just come like that?
[are they not grown magic-- no, listen, he put zero thought into this.]
[ that's just the thing, though — charles doesn't think, even for one second, that junpei should be feeling better already. feeling better, or even good... no, that's not really it, is it? if anything, facing your trauma head-on is terrifying, exhausting, like every part of you that's spent so long jumbled up has been dragged out, sharp edges catching on everything inside you, so that the wounds you thought had healed are all bleeding again —
yeah, "feeling better" is not really it, at all.
so when junpei mushes his face in his chest, charles hums softly, wraps his arm around him tighter, holds him against him like he, too, would be just fine if this was them for the foreseeable future.
the question makes him chuckle, though. ]
No, they don't come like that. I had to spend weeks testing the enchantment, to get it just right. And it's not just bats — I gave Shaw magic bullets for Christmas, you know?
[Junpei thinks Junpei should feel better already, but that's one of the problems here already, so he'll... deal with it. Slowly. As appropriate. Not any more today if he can help it; he's had enough and he wants to think about something else, which is apparently magical objects? Sure.]
What do magic bullets do...? Are they homing bullets?
[Hmm. Magic bullets for Christmas... This place really takes all kinds, huh.]
[ that's just fine with him — it's been a lot, for both of them, and there's still a part of charles that's trying to hold the edges of his soul together from dissolving entirely in abject sadness; he thinks he may cry about it all some more, eventually, when he lets himself truly think about everything junpei has been through, how alone with it all he's been, how unfairly he's been treated —
but all that comes later. right now, his focus is on this very normal topic of conversation, shifting it away from the trauma, giving junpei something else to think of. ]
Nah, they hit all supernatural stuff, too. Like, demons and ghosts and everything else that you normally wouldn't be able to wound with a regular bullet, yeah?
[ he smiles, lifts his hand to brush it through junpei's hair gently. ]
Then I'll get you one. Mine's a cricket bat, because that's what I'm used to... but d'you want a baseball bat instead?
[Don't do that, consider not doing that at all, actually— And oh, homing bullets would have been cool... alas. Junpei makes a face slightly to this effect, but hitting demons is cool too!! It is!]
It's cute that you think it makes a difference to me. I'm not the jock in this relationship.
[Has he ever played baseball? Maybe in PE, when forced? Not well, in any case.]
I can look into if I could make some, [ he says completely earnestly in response to the face that junpei makes — it he wants homing bullets, he's going to do his best to see if that's doable! obviously.
he breathes a laugh, then. ] Oi, I'm not —
[ and then he pauses, considers; the number of sports he knows how to do need two hands to count, one of his favourite pastimes is boxing, another one is bouncing a very small football, uh, hold on, ]
Right, no, okay, you've a point. [ another pause. ] Baseball bat it is, then.
[Really? Really, he's about to argue he isn't a jock? Junpei gives him a look for that, a flatly raised eyebrow until Charles concedes. Please, this is the pinnacle of jock/nerd.]
Sure, sure. Baseball bat. You can show me how to actually hit a pitch.
[Eventually. Some other time. Now is for sinking into Charles and just talking about nothing, baseball bats or anything else. Until it's time to get up or he falls asleep, whichever comes first.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ and then he's forgetting all about monty, because junpei is fixing him with a look, and he promptly loses all ability to worry about anything else except him, and the way the eventual answer makes him frown. ]
So... [ so if he's no longer shifting, then he won't know what happens to the other timelines, right? yeah, he's definitely seeing how the time travel actually really sucks. ]
Hey, [ he says instead, lifting his hand and cupping junpei's cheek. ] Those other timelines... they're not your responsibility. I know you know that, but just — making sure, yeah?
no subject
[No, he won't do this, it's fine. He tilts into Charles' touch, closing his eyes with another sigh. It's another objective fact, right, that he's not responsible for all those other timelines - well, not according to fucking Aldrip, but never mind that now - and this one he mostly believes, if only because thinking about it makes him want to rip out his own brain stem. This is the train of thought that turned Akane into the person she is, isn't it? It's not a good one.
So,] Yeah, I know. I told you this is the timeline we get, remember? I'm not going back on that.
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[ but enough about that... there's a moment he feels yet another wave of overwhelming sadness for junpei and the way he may know this, the timelines not being something he should deal with... and yet he's still forced to know of them, know that he could try, but has to choose not to do it.
instead of crying about it this time, though, charles moves his hand to the back of junpei's neck, pulls him down enough so he can lift his head to give him a gentle kiss. ]
Good. And any time you need a reminder, well... I'm here.
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Unimportant; important is Charles and his unwavering support, the way he says he'll always be there and Junpei believes it, because he has been. Leaning down to kiss him feels like a punctuation mark on that, tying it off with a silent acknowledgement, yes, he knows, and he's lucky for it.
He lingers close, hovering there, brow knit. The sick and greasy thing that lives in his stomach twists into another impossible knot, darkens his thoughts in a bid to not be mentioned, no matter how many insane things he's already said that Charles has accepted, surely, surely... He hasn't asked anything else, so therefore, Junpei is off the hook, he doesn't have to say anything else, and that's going back on his word already, huh.]
I don't know how to say any of this without blowing it off, [he says, so, fair warning if he somehow turns this into a "yippee, life sucks!" moment again, in advance,] But I think I... hang on.
[Hold on, one moment please. Hmnh.] All of that shit, I think it fucked me up real bad? I mean, I should at least cry about it, right? What the hell is wrong with me?
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anyway, yes, definitely unimportant in the grand scheme of things, and even more specifically in the context of this conversation; and it's not a conversation that's over, either, because despite charles' lack of a follow-up question, junpei continues to speak, prefacing his words with a quiet warning and charles braces himself, then... a good thing, too, because the bluntness of it, when junpei finally manages to wrench the words out, well — it stabs right at the center of him in a completely different way than the craziness of everything he's just learned did.
because this is about junpei himself, again, and charles wants nothing more than for him to be okay — and he knows that that's just not the way things are, would have known it even without junpei spelling it out like this, and can his heart break for the third time in, what, an hour? it's certainly making its best effort to do just that.
gently, he lifts his hand, runs it through junpei's hair. ]
There's nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. I mean — [ a breath, then, because he needs to rephrase this, ] There is, but that's what's not wrong, yeah? What you've been through would've fucked anyone up. What would be wrong would be... expecting you to just be fine after all of that.
[ with a sad, small smile that's the barest twist of his lips, ] I've seen this a couple of times, over the years. When stuff just gets so much that you — I don't know, lock it away, I guess? When feeling anything about it hurts so much it's easier to not feel anything.
[ he sighs, because those have been — well, cases he'd much prefer not to remember, and to think junpei's feeling that exact same thing, now... but no, he can hold himself together. he can't afford anything else, right now. ] So my best guess is that's what you're doing.
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Then he settles in to let Charles' words wash over him, scooting down to rest his head on Charles' chest properly now, taking hold of Charles' hand in his hair to thread their fingers together.
Locking it away, not feeling anything— he'd said that to Carlos and Akane, about probably going numb, and then? The Decision Game had forced him to feel everything all at once in the longest adrenaline rush of all time, so much that suddenly arriving in Aldrip and having nothing to do but get a normal, boring job and hang around seemed, at first, to be—healing. He wonders now if it's been little more than an emotional rest stop, just waiting for him to get back to the total breakdown that's probably inevitable.
He says,] Well, I should kick my ass for that, because it sucks.
[It's all he's got; saying it at all took this long, and he only doesn't shove away from it entirely again because Charles doesn't shove away from it. Junpei squeezes his hand in silent thanks for being there, for not telling him he's just wrong and these things "aren't him," or whatever.]
You've seen people do this before? What'd they do about it?
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he squeezes junpei's hand, then, wraps his other arm tighter around him. ]
No, you shouldn't. Yeah, it sucks, but — you were dealt a shitty hand, and you did your best to survive with that. That's not nothing.
[ he sighs, then, looks at the ceiling for a moment, thinking. ]
The thing is... most of them were already dead. And when you're dead, well, all you've got is time. But what helped them move on? [ he sighs again, this time softer, glancing at junpei lying there against his chest. ]
Remember when I said detective stuff's real terrible sometimes, unless you have good ways to deal with it all? Turns out the best way to deal with anything's having support. Not being alone. So there's not, like, one way to process the stuff you've been through... but there's one difference to before and now, yeah? You're not alone anymore.
no subject
And it's a shame there's no magic cheat code to just getting rid of all of this, huh. What is he supposed to do, go to therapy? Here, in the AI world? The AI can't build a therapist, that's a non-starter.
But he's not alone anymore, that's something. That's everything.]
...Right.
[Does he still deflate some, since there's no way forward except through, or however it goes? Yeah, kind of. It's a pain not to get it over with all at once!]
I'll... try? Probably going to take a while.
[They have plenty of time here, though, so there's that.
... .....okay, he's got his first Healing Activity, listen,] So there's this movie where a bunch of guys in an office take baseball bats and beat the shit out of their office's crappy fax machine. Can we do that to the bracelet?
no subject
Hey, [ he says then, as junpei deflates, turning his head and pressing a soft kiss to junpei's hair, ] I know it's real hard to... say it, yeah? Admit that there's some shit you need to work through. So... I'm proud of you. Honest.
[ he hopes that his voice reflects his sincerity; because he is, he's so, so glad that junpei even managed so much as to talk about this. he'd know, right — the way it's so much easier to hold it all in, to pretend it's fine, to not have to face your own demons. ]
Trying's perfect. And take all the time you need, yeah? I'm not going anywhere. [ he's going to be here for him, forever if it's up to him.
the healing activity startles a laugh out of him; but he nods, of course. ]
Sure, love. You can borrow my bat. Or if you want, I can make you one to keep. [ if he wants an enchanted baseball bat... just in case. ]
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So it's hard for him to say he feels better now. He feels more raw, he supposes, more exposed, a bit exhausted— in a way that doesn't feel like another sharp turn downward, at least. Good? Semi-good? Good enough.
He sighs and presses his face into Charles' chest directly, like maybe he can just live right here from now on, that'd be nice. Muffled,]
Okay. [...Just okay, because he can't keep saying thank you forever, so it's okay thank you and okay I love you and okay I'll need the help all tangled together. Okay.
After a moment he picks his head up, wait,] You can make magic bats? They don't just come like that?
[are they not grown magic-- no, listen, he put zero thought into this.]
no subject
yeah, "feeling better" is not really it, at all.
so when junpei mushes his face in his chest, charles hums softly, wraps his arm around him tighter, holds him against him like he, too, would be just fine if this was them for the foreseeable future.
the question makes him chuckle, though. ]
No, they don't come like that. I had to spend weeks testing the enchantment, to get it just right. And it's not just bats — I gave Shaw magic bullets for Christmas, you know?
no subject
What do magic bullets do...? Are they homing bullets?
[Hmm. Magic bullets for Christmas... This place really takes all kinds, huh.]
I wouldn't mind a magic bat.
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but all that comes later. right now, his focus is on this very normal topic of conversation, shifting it away from the trauma, giving junpei something else to think of. ]
Nah, they hit all supernatural stuff, too. Like, demons and ghosts and everything else that you normally wouldn't be able to wound with a regular bullet, yeah?
[ he smiles, lifts his hand to brush it through junpei's hair gently. ]
Then I'll get you one. Mine's a cricket bat, because that's what I'm used to... but d'you want a baseball bat instead?
no subject
It's cute that you think it makes a difference to me. I'm not the jock in this relationship.
[Has he ever played baseball? Maybe in PE, when forced? Not well, in any case.]
no subject
he breathes a laugh, then. ] Oi, I'm not —
[ and then he pauses, considers; the number of sports he knows how to do need two hands to count, one of his favourite pastimes is boxing, another one is bouncing a very small football, uh, hold on, ]
Right, no, okay, you've a point. [ another pause. ] Baseball bat it is, then.
🎀
Sure, sure. Baseball bat. You can show me how to actually hit a pitch.
[Eventually. Some other time. Now is for sinking into Charles and just talking about nothing, baseball bats or anything else. Until it's time to get up or he falls asleep, whichever comes first.]