voice - un: nightmoves

[ruinously]

[ sorry, everyone - Dean is...very drunk. Very, very drunk. There's a lot of reasons for this, but most notably, it's a Monday and that's what matters, right? It's not like it's his birthday and no one gives a shit again, for the thirtieth? thirty-first? time...

does he even age, here? Is it even really January? Cause it was May for him when he got here, and then suddenly they've skipped months and it was Christmas and now it's January or some shit, he doesn't know. ]

Guys, is it just me or does anyone else just like...not give a shit anymore? Like this is crazy, right? Weeks and weeks of bullshit, mission after mission, same story different folks, more investigating these damn people who just parrot the same friggin' story over and over, like we're eating snakes, man, that's just--

[ a breath, steadying; ]

That's just not right. And all for what? Cause we might get to undo a regret? Cause we fucked up so monumentally in our own worlds that we gotta sign some weird sleep paralysis contract that's probably gonna backfire in our faces - cause lemme tell you from firsthand experience, deals always have a price - and feed friggin' alien orbs our goddamn souls? Or whatever the hell it is you magic people have I dunno, I'm useless there.

Man, fuck this. I'm out. I don't care anymore.

Comments

[ruinously]

Skywalkies, suuup.

And -- nah, man, this is too much, this is bullshit. I got a ticket to hell when I go back, what's the point of any of this?

[xwing]

You say that, but I don't think it's true. I know how deeply you feel things. You can't just turn that off.

[ the hell thing, though.. dank farrik. ] You came here to undo some kind of regret, right? If they can do that, rewrite time, then who knows what else they can do? And in the meantime, you're here with people who care very much for you.

[ruinously]

I'm fine.

[ he's not, he isn't fine at all; he feels too deeply to be fine, which is why he's turned to the one bottle of liquor he brought tonight. ]

You are like...

The purest person on this whole ass crew, you know that? You deserve better. You deserve the whole friggin' world. The whole universe.

[xwing]

You're definitely not fine. And I'm not-- I've done things, too, you know? [ the death star, running off to bespin, friends who've died because they were just associated with him-- ]

Will you tell me what's really going on? Or.. Or if not, at least let me see you.

[ruinously]

I know what you've done.

[ Openly honest, maybe too much so. He'd told himself he'd stop that shit, because it's weird. ]

I'm fine, man. I'm fine. It's just--

Been a long week. Month. Decade. That's all.

[xwing]

Well.. whatever I do or don't deserve, I like you. I'm really glad that I met you. And.. I really worry about you. [ especially after reading that book. ]

.. I can imagine. I'm not going to force you to talk about it if you don't want to, but I.. don't really think you should be alone right now.

[ruinously]

[ At least someone does, is his thought, but that's pathetic and self-serving and Dean isn't a pathetic piece of crap, no matter what anyone may say or how people make him feel.

Or maybe he is, hell if he knows. ]

I'm at the inn. Second floor, third door on the right.

[xwing]

[ he can't quite keep the relief out of his voice. ] Okay. I'll be there as soon as I can. In the meantime.. maybe put the lid back on the bottle for now..?

[ruinously]

Sure, sure. I'll cap it for now.

[ Or wont, who knows. life sucks, he had a vulnerable moment, he has a million regrets. It's totally fine. ]

[xwing]

[ true to his word, he shows up in a surprisingly short amount of time, possibly because he force-sprinted his way to the inn. still, he's composed enough as he lets himself in, shutting and locking the door behind him for privacy's sake.

for several quiet moments, he just gazes at dean, expression soft with concern and affection, but then he's crossing toward him to pluck the bottle up with the force and move it far away. he slides onto the bed next to him a moment later, hands reaching up to cup dean's face between them. ]

Hey. [ he strokes his thumbs over his stubbled cheeks. ] I'm sorry I didn't notice earlier that you were hurting. I should have.

[ruinously]

In some corners of the universe, that's rude.

[ Taking a mans booze away, that's just wrong, man.

Dean doesn't put up any interference though; he knows he's messed up, he's slipped. The responses he's gotten have slapped sense into him, as much as his daddy ever could. ]

I'm fine. I didn't mean to worry you.

[xwing]

Hey. Stop. [ a hand slides away from dean's face to curl instead against his chest, knocking gently against the center of his ribs. ] What'd I tell you about hiding from me?

[ the hand still on his face curls around his nape instead, then slides down his back slightly, knuckles dragging against the knobs of his spine. ]

You're allowed to be in pain, Dean. You're even allowed to get drunk and kind of want to give up now and then, and honestly, fuck anyone that tells you differently. [ a beat, nose wrinkling. ] Not in the.. fun way, in the rude way.

[ruinously]

[ His lips twitch a little, his heart twisting and thumping in his chest. He'd known saying something was stupid, hell -- 99% of the people on this damn crew have it worse. What's hell in the face of everyone else's problems?

It's difficult to keep up the facade in front of Luke - damn empaths - but he tries anyway, because he's already shown the whole world he's weak and broken. ]

Saying something was stupid. I shouldn't have.

[ ugh. fuck. if he could delete it, including himself, he would. ]

Everyone else has it worse.

[xwing]

It's not a competition, and anyone who treats it like one is a karking idiot.

[ he shoulders back against the headboard, then pats his lap, a hand gently urging dean to lay down if he wants to. luke has a perfectly serviceable lap and fingers to pet his hair. ]

.. You don't have to be strong all the time, Dean, and that doesn't make you.. broken or-- or worthless or.. any of the things I know you must tell yourself.

[ruinously]

[ It's a very fine lap, and Dean will definitely curl up against him if allowed. At least he can have this moment, anyway - since he's done acting like an idiot. ]

Don't I? [ He breaks once and it's...stupid. But he has always had a soft heart, and he's tired, and he's wanted to be 'done' for years, now. ]

I just got frustrated. That's all. On behalf of everyone so I don't...even know why--

[ He takes a breath and swallows. ]

Everyone handles stress differently, I guess.

[xwing]

[ he pushes both hands into dean's hair once his head's on his lap, the nails of his real hand scratching gently against his scalp. ] Yeah, everyone handles stress differently, and everyone reaches a point where it's just too much eventually. And maybe it won't make sense to anyone else. Maybe it won't even make sense to you. That doesn't invalidate it, though.

[ he runs the cool knuckles of his prosthetic down dean's nape, then his spine through his shirt, stroking back up soothingly. ] No one here really knows what you've been through. No one except you. So no one gets to tell you that you're wrong for reaching that too-much point just because they haven't reached theirs yet. [ his hands pause, one resting against dean's ribs, thumb stroking back and forth absently. ] .. And yeah, maybe getting drunk wasn't the best idea, but I kind of get the feeling you haven't had a lot of other ways to deal with stress.

[ruinously]

Think I reached my point too soon.

[ Some people have been here far longer, and what -- Dean's just gonna break under a little pressure? Dude, come on. ]

I -- no. [ That actually prompts a laugh that isn't entirely mirthless. Fingers in his hair and against his ribs, it calms the wild, rabbit staccato beat of his heart into something a little slower. ]

Can't say I've ever been educated on healthy coping mechanisms. My dad, instead of, I dunno - grief counseling - went on a witch hunt and taught a six year old how to shoot. Who does that?

[xwing]

Too soon as opposed to what? You said it yourself: you were a child when it started. You were raised by a distant, traumatized father who--apparently--was often gone, leaving you--still a child yourself--to look after your baby brother. And that's when you weren't out hunting down horrible things yourself. And now you have to worry about some kind of apocalypse and a literal hell.

[ he pauses, hand moving from dean's hair to his chin, turning his head enough so that he's forced to look at luke. his brows arch. ]

Honestly, the fact that you've held up this long without having some kind of breakdown is incredible. [ he releases his chin, but the hand on his ribs slides around to the center of his chest, patting it gently. ] Don't try to kill this heart of yours just because you think not feeling is strength. It's not.

[ruinously]

So what's strength? Having a public meltdown on a public network? God, I'm an idiot.

[ He groans, letting Luke tip his face, his cheeks fiery with color - either from liquor or humiliation, it's hard to say. He's an idiot and should apologize to everyone on the damn network -- except he's way too embarrassed and wants no further attention on him.

God. Just send him to hell already. ]

[xwing]

No, strength is recovering from it. [ he smiles a little, bending to drop a quick, chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth. ] You're going to be okay, Dean. All of the people that care about you here will help if you need it.

[ his fingers slide back into the older man's hair, scratching like dean's just a big lothcat. ]

Have you had any water since you started drinking?

[ruinously]

Can I recover, or have I damned myself into the 'whiny bitch' stereotype? Cause I'm pretty sure it's the latter.

[ He sighs, lets it out in a whoosh, relaxing in inches. He's not sure what that says about him, that he's so at ease, comfortable in another mans arms.

Something distasteful, if his Dad had any say. Mercifully, he isn't here - though he sure lives rent free in Dean's head. ]

Uh, no. Some dude on the network mentioned it, though. Should...probably have some.

[xwing]

[ he gently flicks the curve of his ear with his index finger, huffing a laugh. ] That makes it sound a lot more dramatic than the whole thing actually was. You complained on the network, which people have been doing for thousands of years where I'm from. And yes, you should definitely have some water.

[ if there's a pitcher anywhere in this room, luke will get it himself. force powers really do come in handy for all kinds of things. ]

.. Are you ready to tell me yet what it was about today in particular..?

[ruinously]

Water. Yes.

[ He groans, because that means getting up, but then Luke's going all Jedi, which will never not be awesome. ]

It's just another day, that's all. Guess everything just kinda started bugging me at the same time.

[xwing]

Hm. [ that says luke doesn't necessarily believe him, but knows it won't help to be pushy about it. instead, he nudges dean into sitting up, handing him the glass of water. ]

Well, to be fair, I'm told that reptile isn't usually in people's diets, so I guess after a while it would get to anyone.

[ as a tatooine native, luke's used to huttese food, so honestly, he's fine with snakes. ]

[ruinously]

Mhm. Yeah.

[ He listens without listening, takes the glass in his hand and drains it. His mouth and throat are dry, and he's very aware he's going to regret this in the morning. He's already got a lot of regrets right now. ]

It's my birthday, today. I think. Back home, when I got pulled here, it was May, but with all the Christmas stuff we just had, and if I'm counting right, it's--yeah. It's today.