bigapplesauce | [closed] After painting the ceiling red

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[closed] After painting the ceiling red

[Warning: Lots of focus on suicide, with a side of drug and alcohol use, plenty of traumatic subjects.]

Seth should start keeping a tally of number of times Daniel gets to watch him die in a dream. Only two so far, but that's in less than three weeks of knowing him, so who knows what it will be over time? He's long since given up on keeping track of when he dies in a dream in general, since that's not a terribly unusual occurrence, but it's rarer for it to happen in shared ones.

He had given up on sleep more or less immediately after waking up. The fear he had felt, the hopelessness, it was all a bit too real, too familiar, and easily stuck with him. So he had gone out to cope with it in the only way he felt capable of - getting blissfully high.

A few hours later, once morning had properly arrived, and the buzz was wearing off, he returned home. Not ready to deal with being sober however, he had replaced the morphine with alcohol, namely whiskey. The rest of the morning had passed in only somewhat comforting intoxication and anxiety, and then Daniel had texted him, and Seth didn't feel able to answer. It took two hours before he could actually face the idea of seeing him after that ordeal. Not just because of the things he had seen Daniel do, but the things Daniel had seen him do. There's no small amount of shame and self-loathing involved.

But at last he had answered, and now he's waiting for Daniel to get there, anxiously picking at his sleeves and staring at the wall. He's not as drunk as he would like, but he's definitely not sober. It's not going to be a fun conversation.

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"Surprisingly well, actually," he says, glancing up at Daniel with a smile, though he keeps his eyes mostly on Monty in case he needs to take her. "Snakes can take a long time to readjust, especially if they're stressed. Go months without food if they want to. But she ate a few days ago, and she hasn't been aggressive or anything."

He sits back down on the bed, crossing his arms loosely. "Probably helps that I have a friend who can talk to animals, she could tell Monty I was friendly. Not to mention that the rabbit next door was not food, and the dog upstairs was not a predator," he adds with amusement.

"Really?" He looks back up, eyebrows drawing together. "Animal communication? Huh. Well, I guess it's no weirder than, than office supply manifestation or being an archangel or - whatever else there is around here."

Bored with his arm, Monty comes wandering back up to drape herself around his shoulders with languid curiosity.

"Sounds like pets are a bit of a building requirement," Daniel jokes, slowly lowering the arm. "I was thinking maybe I should get one. Just to, you know, help me settle in." But doing that would mean accepting, on some level, that he won't be going home anytime soon, and Daniel's not sure he's ready to come to terms with that.

Not that he says so.

"But I'm thinking that's gotta wait until I find a more of a, uh, permanent residence. You know, as opposed to just sort of squatting."

Seth nods thoughtfully. He could easily see Daniel with a pet. The dream where they both had (or rather were?) giant cats probably helped a bit. But he definitely has that caring nature that's good for pet owning.

"I could help you find a place, if you want," he offers. Seth has a lot more connections and familiarity with the city than Daniel does. There might even be some angelic help involved, since Gabriel seemed to like Daniel, though Seth doesn't want to make any promises on that front. "And if you find yourself suddenly evicted, you could always crash here," he adds, just to make sure that's clear.

"Might have to take you up on that," he replies ruefully. He holds up an absent finger for Monty's inspection. "I mean, it's not that I don't like the place. I just don't think my kindly benefactors will be too pleased to find out their actual tenant absconded three weeks ago, transferred allegiances, and left a formerly-Ascended archaeologist in her place."

Daniel's not eager to know what the Rebels might do if they find out about that. Their treatment of Seth has made him more than a little wary of their motives. He definitely doesn't trust them to leave him alone if they find out about his still-present link to the higher plane, nor does he expect the same from ROMAC for that matter. It'd be in his best interest to land a living space that doesn't entail leeching resources from either party; political involvement is something he'd like to avoid. Unfortunately, he seems to have already gotten semi-involved with the Rebels simply by virtue of being an unintended squatter.

"Plus," he adds, tone lightening, "it'd be nice to be able to have you over every once in a while. Return the favor for every time I've barged in on you."

Seth smiles at the last bit, a welcome point in an otherwise troubling topic. He'd rather not the rebels get their hands on Daniel. And he could visit Daniel if necessary, since he's been in the building several times now without incident. The more time passes from his stay at the base, the less afraid he is they'll just suddenly bundle him up and take him away. But he'd like to avoid if it he can, and he'd never be completely comfortable there.

"And you could cook one of those however many meals you owe me in your own kitchen," he answers jokingly. He hardly feels like Daniel has barged in anywhere, but being able to visit Daniel would be nice.

Edited 2014-12-13 06:58 (UTC)

"Yeah, see," says Daniel, leveling a look of mock sincerity on Seth. "I'm very big on equal-opportunity apartment-crashing. It's one of the fundamentals of any friendship."

Monty seems content to hang around his shoulders for a little bit but Daniel shoots Seth a questioning look, wondering if that means she's grown tired of him. He's not bad on picking up body language, but that intuition only goes as far as humans or variations thereupon.

"That and a limitless supply of coffee and alcohol, sometimes in combination," Seth agrees with amusement.

Seth takes Daniel's look to mean he'd like his shoulders back now, so he stands up and liberates Daniel from the snake. Since Monty hasn't tried hiding or running away yet though, Seth doesn't put her back in her tank but rather drapes her around his own shoulders, letting her curl gently around his neck.

"Speaking of coffee," he adds, heading back towards the couch to sit down and work some more on his drink, before it gets too cold to be any good.

Daniel follows the suit, appropriating his own mug on the way back to the couch to drain its remaining contents. He leans back to savor the faint rush and watches Seth's new serpentine neckwear.

"Mm, also true," he remarks. "Coffee and alcohol, the two staples." At least according to Jack. Coffee and beer were the essentials with Jack, though Daniel predictably opted to stick with the former more often than not. After the vividness of that dream, the memory of his friend seems to be taking its sweet time in fading from the forefront. He doesn't know how accurate his perception of Jack had been in that metaphysical space but it had resembled the man he knew enough for the aching familiarity to hit him once he awoke. Although - that hadn't been the only thing to stick with him upon waking.

"Hey, so," says Daniel, frowning into his empty mug. "Are there ever cases of, um, of the dreaming sort of - bleeding over?"

Seth frown, leaning back carefully to avoid jostling Monty too bad as she settles as well. "In what way?" he asks, unsure specifically how Daniel means. Though it's already a kind of worrying question. Mostly because the dreams generally seem to be worrying as a rule.

"Uh." How does one put this? 'So the other night while you were dying I was also taking a roadtrip with Satan'?

Maybe that's a little too glib.

"That - dream?" Daniel says, hesitant, loathe to stir up the memories again. "The other night that, that wasn't my only dream. There was another one. With, uh. With Satan. Lucifer."

He winces sharply as he says it. Yeah. That had been a weird one, and a supremely unnerving thing to dissect once the horror of watching Seth shoot himself had passed.

"So, um, long story but, uh, when I woke up?" He's aware 'long story' doesn't even begin to cover it and, yes, this entire thing is more than a little worrying. "When I woke up there was this - bag. Like, cloth bag, filled with, with bones and dirt, you know, lavender, things like that. Definitely wasn't there before. And that, it, it." Daniel raises one hand, a useless effort to assign substantive, mechanical meaning an immaterial concept. The bag's manifestation had been unnerving enough, but explaining its effect is significantly more difficult. "It - it felt like him."

Seth isn't too worried until Daniel mentions Lucifer. Coupled with the mention of dreams 'bleeding over', that is in no way a comforting thought. He suddenly feels himself quite a lot tenser than a moment ago.

The news of what exactly Daniel had woken up with makes his insides grow cold. That is... messed up. Not that that is surprising considering who they're dealing with, but it's still pretty sickening. Seth has to make an effort to push aside his worries to actually deal with Daniel's question.

"Well, um... It's very unlikely to just happen, on its own," he answers, eyebrows drawing together. "But, er, there's people with powers like that, who can use the Dreaming to affect the waking world. And, hmm.. He has powers of manifestation, doesn't he? So he might be able to use that remotely... Lucy's apartment is warded though, so he shouldn't be able to get in there." Seth had figured it would be, but he had seen for himself when he came by to see Daniel, so.

The thought that Lucifer could do something like that to Daniel is... horrible, to say the least. The thought that he might actually be interested in doing so is even worse. Seth's plan for keeping safe has been to try to remain as unnoticeable as possible.

He nods, pulls on the movement to ground him back in the center sphere of their reality. The Dreaming might be terrifying, cruel, occasionally lethal, but it's only ever been in the context of the dreamscape. In Daniel's limited experience, it's never bled over - at least, not beyond emotional repercussions. The physical manifestation had felt like a taunt. A reminder that, despite the warding and despite promises of protection, there really wouldn't be much preventing Lucifer from breaching those defenses if he was truly determined to do so.

In short, it's not the safest feeling.

"I mean that, that dream was...disturbing," Daniel says carefully, "for a multitude of reasons. We didn't recognize each other." He's not sure how much more in depth he wants to go. He'd helped the Devil, bought him a room and driven him through Pennsylvania and even gotten him coffee though, granted, it's not like Daniel was aware of his passenger's Hellish nature. "Lucy warded the place just before she left but I'm not sure how well that'll hold if he really wants to get in. Which he might, I dunno. It felt like, like some sort of perverse warning, almost."

Which is really just not fair. Daniel wasn't even trying to get the resident Satanic being's attention, and somehow he's apparently managed it.

If Daniel didn't recognise Lucifer, and his Ascended type powers didn't work in the dreaming, Seth can easily imagine Daniel being really nice and helpful to him, so he's not sure he really wants details.

Seth can't help but shudder a little involuntarily. Most of his alcoholic buzz has disappeared, and he feels like he needs to replace it with caffeine. "I need more coffee for this," he decides, draining the last of his mug and standing up, bringing both his own and Daniel's mugs to the kitchen. Monty might have realised Seth's discomfort, because she curls in just a little tighter, almost protectively, hiding a little in his hood.

"Do you know what the bones were about?" he asks, pouring them both more coffee. He doesn't want to ask if he knows whose bones it were. Or is. Presumably Daniel still has the bones?

Edited 2014-12-13 19:04 (UTC)

"I don't, really," Daniel admits. "I think it was a temporary construct, disappeared before the morning was even out. It struck me a bit like some sort of ward or protective measure but I don't know why he'd leave me that unless it was meant as some, I dunno, ironic taunt."

He remembers the smell of it well enough. In fact, that's been the one thing that won't leave the apartment - the cloying, overly sweet reek of lavender and dead things that's been hanging thick and heavy around his bed ever since. That was another reason he'd been so eager to get out of the place for the day.

Seth makes an expression of distaste - he hasn't even met the guy, but he is really not a fan of Gabe's brother, and still wouldn't be even if he wasn't literally Satan.

"I'll ask Gabe about it," he says, bringing the coffee mugs over to the table, then going to fetch his phone before he returns to sit down. "He might have a way to make you a bit safer, and I can tell him to keep his family members away from my friends." The humour is a little lost in the seriousness of the situation.

"Thanks," he says, both in response to the coffee refill and the Gabe-texting thereof. "I mean, I'm not really sure what there is anyone can do about it. It's not like he's hurting me, or even talking to me. He just - left a friendly little present that disappeared come morning."

Still, any amount of attention being paid to him by the Devil is going to put Daniel on the defensive. He resolves that the first thing he'll do upon finding a new place is ward the entire area thoroughly, provided it isn't already.

"Yeah, really friendly," Seth replies sarcastically. He shakes his head a little, shooting Gabe a text, before picking up his coffee and taking a careful sip. "Just... feel like taking precautions wouldn't be a bad idea. Not to confront him abou' it or nowt, that might just make him more interested." Which is what they're trying to avoid.

"No, I'm all for precautions," Daniel amends hastily. He sips at his coffee absently but it does nothing for the slight crop-up of nerves. "Particularly where Lucifer's involved. If he can get stuff in the place even if it's warded, I'm kinda wondering how much it'll take before he can start showing up in there."

Another reason for Daniel to relocate, though he's not sure how much good changing physical location will be, especially since Satan didn't need to be told his address before magicking a weird-smelling bag in.

"Hopefully we'll have worked out the question to that answer long before he decides he wants to try," Seth answers, reaching up and stroking Monty gently. She seems to have nestled comfortably and leeching off his body heat, slightly hidden by Seth's hoodie. It doesn't take long Gabe to reply, and Seth lifts the phone to show Daniel the text, raising his eyebrows questioningly at him.

Daniel peers at it, nibbling on his lip again.

"I mean it, it disappeared pretty quick. It was definitely there when I woke up, I opened it and poked around, but it's like it was a temporary manifest." He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to remember the contents. "Umm, there was dirt and lavender, I remember, some other plants. Also bones. But - small, like I think they were from a rabbit or a cat, maybe."

He leans back again and takes another fortifying sip.

"I dunno if there's anything we can do. Place is already warded."

Seth texts the details of the bag to Gabe, and that it had disappeared. Then he sends another text with where Daniel is staying, in case Gabe wants to go check out whether it's warded properly or something.

"Well, maybe Gabe will know," he answers. "What were you even doing in the dream? I hope it was less horrifying than what we were up to..." Then again, he doesn't exactly wish Daniel and Lucifer were having a party together either. That would be a different kind of disturbing.

"Uh, well." Well.

"Seeing as we didn't recognize each other," Daniel begins delicately, "and seeing as I thought he was just some hitchhiker I, um, I may have - driven him through Pennsylvania. Then got him a hotel room. And possibly coffee. Oh god." He sets down the mug to put his face his hands and sink back, groaning, cursing the Dreaming for the millionth time. "I paid for Satan's room. I bought him coffee. What the hell."

Seth closes his eyes and leans his chin on his chest (slightly blocked by the snake curled up there), a gesture of some sort of mix between amusement and dismay. Of course he did. "I know you're a forgiving and compassionate guy, but you might be stretching it a bit," Seth points out, sipping his coffee. He's gone past alarm into pure dejection. "What the hell is accurate, though." At this point humour is an important coping method.

"I didn't know," Daniel protests, but the smile cracks the worry into slight amusement. "You should've seen him. He looked terrible, really."

The memory refresher is markedly more sobering and his grin soon slides back into thoughtful concern.

"I think the car crashed." He speaks slowly as he remembers "Yeah, no, it did. We crashed and my head cracked the window and he healed me. He called me," and one corner of his mouth turns downward in faint distaste, "he called me a 'righteous man,' and in the stories the righteous man is always rewarded." Daniel makes a low, self-disgusted noise in the back of his throat and hurriedly looks at the wall opposite, taking a much longer drink from his mug than necessary.

"I guess that was it," he remarks dully. "That bag, that was my reward." A mockery of one, anyway.

Seth also makes a face at literal Satan called Daniel righteous like that. Because it's true, but it's not the person you want to hear it from, like it seems almost perverse in a way. Just generally unsettling.

His phone buzzes again, and Steh looks down at the text from Gabe. "He says, 'Sounds more like a love note. Protection.' " Seth makes another face of disgust before continuing. " 'But if it disappeared, it must've been an illusion.' Well, if that's the case, at least he can't send literal objects into your apartment." Not that creating illusions is a whole lot better, messing with his perception like that. Who knows what he could make him see if he was really intent on it.

Another text appears while Seth is still looking at his phone, and he frowns a little, not knowing the answer to that one. "He asks why Lucy doesn't live there anymore." Seth hadn't really thought of asking, since he's not even really met her.

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