maybe I'll sleep when I am dead

[rigging]

Who: Jesse Finch and PEOPLE
Where: Dreamland
When: Day 83-88
What: you can dream if you wanna
Warnings: Across the board warning for triggery content. References to child abuse, drugs, alcohol, death, lots of awful things. Good things too! But probably more bad, knowing me.

[ ooc: I'm going to write up a bunch of dreams for specific people under sub-threads in this post! So please don't tag the post, but tag the sub-thread for your character - I have planned things but I would ALWAYS be up for more. If you want me to write up a dream or plot up something for Jesse and your character, lemme know @tahdis on plurk, I'd be happy to come up with something with you I SERIOUSLY WANT ALL THE THINGS.

Still looking for possible dream fights with strangers, too! ]

Comments

[nedofpies]

Ned isn't in any hurry. He lets Jesse hold to him as tightly as he wants, squeezes back so that he'll know he's safe, that Ned's going to keep him safe.

He waits and listens as Jesse sobs his heart out; it sounds like the kind of crying that hurts. Ned can hear the exhaustion behind it and that worries him. It's not healthy. With Jesse's face pressed against the crook of his shoulder like that Ned can't help but think of the dream, remember pressing his face against his mother's shoulder - cold and stiff - and begging for forgiveness. He swallows and shoves the memory down to the corner of his mind, crushes it as small as it will go and tries to fill his head with thoughts of Jesse. It was too late to change that, but he won't let Jesse down. Not again, not if he can help it.

[rigging]

It takes a while, but he works it all out. His sobs start to space out, calm down, and eventually, it's just his shoulders that shake, little sniffs and shaky sounds that escape. He hasn't cried that hard in a long time - as far back as his withdrawals, he thinks. It helps, working the tension out of his shoulders and the pressure off his chest. He doesn't move if only because he doesn't want to let Ned see his face after all of this; he's not really ashamed or anything, it's just - Ned's right. It was painful crying, and he doesn't even want to be awake, let alone try and talk.

His grip on Ned loosens though, and he sighs, finally, rubbing at his face with one hand.

[nedofpies]

Ned grants Jesse a little more room to breathe once he pulls away on his own, rubbing a hand back and forth over his shoulders in a way that he hopes will be soothing and not just irritating.

"I'm really sorry, Jesse," he says quietly. Jesse's still-hiccupy breaths make his own chest ache. "I didn't- I shouldn't have said anything until morning."

Or maybe he really should have kept his mouth shut entirely, at least until he or Galen had worked out some kind of plan, so they could present Jesse with a less hopeless-looking scenario.

"D'you want me to stay?" he asks. He's willing to - as long as is necessary. "Or I could get you a glass or water? Or..." he trails off, to imply that he's willing to fetch and carry and help in any way Jesse needs.

[rigging]

He doesn't answer at first, just lets Ned rub at his shoulders so that he can catch his breath. It's not Ned's fault, it's nobody's fault, Jesse isn't angry or anything. Doesn't have the energy. He's just exhausted, sniffing in that post-crying sort of shuddery way, closing his eyes.

"Would you - water," Jesse finally says, holding himself tightly. "Please. And then come back and sit with me. I can't. Be alone right now." That's rough to admit, but it's true. And he's not sure he wants to go and wake Kenzi or Galen up, not after all of this. Not right now.

[nedofpies]

Happy for the clear instructions, Ned nods, goes to get Jesse his glass of water. He brings back one for himself, too, sits beside Jesse on the couch. When he sees how huddled into himself Jesse remains he shifts closer, not saying anything but doing his best to provide a comforting presence. The two of them stay like that for a while, sipping at their water in unhappy but companionable silence.

He figures that Jesse doesn't want to talk about his nightmares, and Ned isn't really eager to touch on that issue either. But in the silence he finds his head starting to nod, his blinks lasting longer and longer. The last thing Ned wants is to fall asleep right now, and he has a feeling Jesse shares the sentiment.

So, without preamble, he starts to talk. They're stupid stories, mostly, all about what he would do when he was at boarding school and he had insomnia (Ned doesn't explain why). He tells Jesse about sneaking into the kitchens and stealing fruit from the trash to bake pies with, even though he couldn't eat them, just so he could enjoy the smell. He tells Jesse about the one time he got caught baking - when the other boys had descended on the kitchen and he had been, for a brief moment, the most popular boy in school.

It's just chatter, Ned knows. Noise to fill the silence. He isn't sure Jesse's really listening or paying attention, but he doesn't stop him, so he keeps talking, keeps sitting close, for as long as Jesse needs to not be alone.