postictal: (rethink that move son | smoking)
Tim W█████ ([personal profile] postictal) wrote in [community profile] bigapplesauce2015-03-29 06:47 pm

these words are knives that often leave scars [closed]

He spends the entire day and night off, out. He has no goal in mind, no place to stay; he simply meanders, directionless, and steadily burns his way through an entire pack. He doesn't want to see Jay. He doesn't want to talk to him, or anyone, preferably again.

But like it or not, Tim's dependent on him for shelter - sort of, anyway, but he's not about to bother Johnny with his problems again no matter how much he's tempted. He misses the pattern of quiet simplicity he and Johnny fell into, no needing to talk over their shit so much as let it hover unaddressed, or barely addressed, and that suited them both just fine. Johnny never pried anything out of him, just urged him gently. Never used him. Never left him behind. Never took advantage of who and what Tim is.

Maybe it would have been a matter of time. Isn't it usually. Tim's the common variable in everything that's gone horribly, irreversibly wrong in his life. He knows it's on him. Usually. And the few times it isn't -

His last cigarette's smoldering stump is extinguished under the grind of a heel as he stamps into the building, shoulders up and hunched almost to his ears, hands jammed uncomfortably into his pockets. The rattle of pills in his jacket pocket is too high-pitched, too few objects rolling around in their orange bottle with the shredded label. He should be worried about that. But he isn't.

The door's locked, but Tim had the forethought to grab keys, if only out of impulse. He hadn't thought he would be coming back at the time - or, no, really he hadn't been thinking at all, period, simply tore open the door with the mindless, infuriated yank of an arm, spilled out of the building and onto the street, and there he'd stayed. Walking and smoking and not thinking.

But he had to come back sometime. No more running and hiding, remember, Tim? Or had he resolved to only ever run and hide, never confront things brazenly, because isn't that what Jay made a habit of doing and look where it got him - but he's made so many pointless resolutions and so many of them have failed that he frankly can't remember what he's meant to be doing anymore.

So he comes back. He lets the door swing shut behind him, neither slamming nor closing but snapping shut with frosty neutrality while Tim pins down the apartment's sole tenant with a glare.
deadeyedchild: did you know who it was (this wasn't supposed to happen)

[personal profile] deadeyedchild 2015-03-30 06:02 am (UTC)(link)
Jay can't even manage the smallest, dryest smile in response to that. He just ducks his head back down, staring at the bed and his idle fucking hands.

"I'm sorry," he says as levelly as he can. "You were... you were right. About everything." His fingers dig into the sheets. "I shouldn't have asked you that. I shouldn't have said anything." His shoulders slump with the effort, the weight of admission. He struggles to find more to say and comes up hopelessly short. He shakes his head, feeling hollow and useless.

"I'm sorry," he mutters.
deadeyedchild: when you say "trouble", do you mean...? (excuse the fuck out of you)

[personal profile] deadeyedchild 2015-03-30 06:41 am (UTC)(link)
"I know," he says, hunching over, bristling. "I know, all right? You already made that pretty fucking clear. How I don't do anything. How useless I am. I got it, okay?" He looks up, finally managing to meet Tim's eyes. This has been bubbling up for too long; so much of it he'd already known and denied for as long as he could, and there just isn't any fucking point anymore. "I couldn't save Alex, or Jessica, or me. I made everything worse for you. I know that. What do you want me to do?"
deadeyedchild: so is this where Alex... (you are distorted)

[personal profile] deadeyedchild 2015-03-30 07:15 am (UTC)(link)
Jay looks down again, chuckling grimly. "Yeah. Fine." He holds his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "It's not like there's anything here to find anyway. I just thought, you know, between you and me - I mean, whatever. Doesn't matter anymore."

He huffs and turns his head.

"I'm glad you're back," he mutters.
deadeyedchild: waiting on you (the fuck was that)

[personal profile] deadeyedchild 2015-03-30 06:18 pm (UTC)(link)
"Wait, what?" Jay looks up, startled. "You just got here!"

Did this go worse than he thought? Is Tim leaving for good this time? Maybe that was his plan, just bring the keys back and get in a few final digs and then go.

He doesn't want to look desperate. Especially when Tim's already so angry, and when apparently nothing Jay says can fix it, so much for all his effort. But when faced with the likelihood of Tim turning right around and leaving again he feels it like a punch to the gut: he really, really doesn't want to be alone.
deadeyedchild: the number you have dialed (look closely)

[personal profile] deadeyedchild 2015-03-30 09:12 pm (UTC)(link)
"Oh." Jay fidgets and drops his eyes back down, embarrassed by his own reaction. "Right. Okay. Good."

It is good. They'll need more than just his little stipend, probably. And Tim will need his space. They both will.

He runs a hand through his hair. "Don't you even want to... like, shower or something?" he mumbles, feeling a bit pitiful.
Edited 2015-03-30 21:16 (UTC)
deadeyedchild: what did you do (regrets everything)

[personal profile] deadeyedchild 2015-03-31 02:34 am (UTC)(link)
Jay looks dully at the bathroom door, sighs and gets up. He heads over to the kitchen, pulling out a few things to string a breakfast together.

"You want some coffee or something?" he calls through the door. He feels like a dog trying desperately to please after making a mess and being locked outside. It makes the resentment rise back up for a moment, but only a moment. He swallows the bile and it's quelled.
deadeyedchild: in case something happens to me (stay home)

[personal profile] deadeyedchild 2015-03-31 03:04 am (UTC)(link)
Well good, cause he's already making some. He slouches against the counter, waiting for it to be ready, and doesn't look at Tim.

"I didn't mean to use you," he murmurs after a long pause. He pours Tim a cup and slides it over. "I thought you didn't know where she was. I believed you, I wasn't trying to-" He shuts himself up abruptly and looks away, working his jaw. Probably not helping.
deadeyedchild: did you know who it was (this wasn't supposed to happen)

[personal profile] deadeyedchild 2015-03-31 03:15 am (UTC)(link)
"I know," says Jay, frustrated, irrationally annoyed that Tim isn't taking his admittedly mediocre peace offering of coffee. "I just wanted you to know I didn't-"

He breaks off again. Rubs his hand over his face tiredly.

"I'm sorry," he says, again, through his fingers. "If I could do it again I wouldn't ask."

Is that even true?

He can't be sure.

He drops his hand and stuffs both of them awkwardly into his pockets. "There's a lot I would do differently if I could," he mutters.

That, at least, is true.
deadeyedchild: keeping an eye on it from nearby (be alone)

[personal profile] deadeyedchild 2015-03-31 03:29 am (UTC)(link)
Jay looks at him, worn and miserable, like the challenge is a kick to the gut. "Okay," he says vaguely, his eyes slipping down again to fixate on the counter's edge. "I mean I'd rather we never had to deal with anything like that again, but yeah, if we do, then..." He shrugs haplessly. "Then I'll do better."

He hesitates, then reaches out, picks up the coffee mug, and holds it out to Tim in a wordless offer.
deadeyedchild: I haven't been as paranoid (Default)

[personal profile] deadeyedchild 2015-03-31 03:43 am (UTC)(link)
"Yeah." Jay's relieved, as relieved as he can be, that this didn't end worse. It's something. He'll take it.

Whether or not he can keep the implied promise is something he's not sure of, and he would also bet money he doesn't have that Tim doesn't trust it either. But he has to try.

All that shit he left behind, the unraveling mystery that he never solved, the problems he never fixed, the unanswered questions that ended up killing him - all of it for a man he saw only once, just once after the whole thing started (everything else he forgot), and he didn't even say a word, just pulled the final trigger - it's all starting to slip away. What does any of it matter to him now? To all that, he's dead with no body; here, he's nothing, just some cipher waiting to find a new project.

Maybe he doesn't need one. Cameras aside.

And all he has is Tim, whose need for shelter is the only thing tethering him, whose attachment is worn to a few fraying threads.

Tim is all there is. Jay cannot fucking lose that. He won't.

So yeah. Next time he will do better.

"Good luck," he says.
Edited 2015-03-31 03:44 (UTC)