I'm trying, but I'm graceless...

[recognize_an_opportunity]

Who: Meyer and Charlie
What: There's a need for a SRS DISCUSSION since Ned seems to now know everything about their lives.
Where: House 19
When: Day 87. Evening.
Warnings: Swearing. Drugs. Probably feelings, we all know how that goes. Will update if needed.

This week has been a bad one. His injuries have been causing him trouble -- the painkillers never seem quite strong enough or long-lasting enough, but maybe that's because what he really wants is the heroin they still have, and he's trying to convince himself not to burn through their stash just because a tiger attacked him. Add that to the fact that his dreams have been on public display, and he's not exactly a happy guy.

And then there's the conversation he'd had with Ned. The conversation he's been trying to avoid thinking about, the conversation he's been trying not to bring up around Charlie. The last thing they need is more trouble. But Ned knows things nobody should know, and while Ned seems more trustworthy than most, Meyer doesn't trust anyone implicitly -- except for maybe Charlie.

He's sitting in the kitchen, doing what could probably be classed as sulking, if he were the type to admit he ever sulks. He calls it "thinking," but the fact that he's just staring into space and frowning probably qualifies it for something more than just "thinking." There's a little scrap of brown paper with some heroin on it on the table, but although he occasionally glances at it, he's still debating whether to use it.

In truth, he's waiting for Charlie to show up in the kitchen so they can talk. But he's not going to seek him out on his own. So he just keeps sitting there. Staring. Thinking.

Comments

[dowhatisays]

"Yeah, jesus, I fucking get it already. No threatening to drop him in a fucking lake or nothing, fine." Seriously, Meyer, he's got too much to think about now without you launching into your 'stop Charlie from doing something stupid' voice. He goes back to shredding his paper.

[recognize_an_opportunity]

He sighs. "Look, you're worried. I'm worried too. The best we can do is not let him see that, okay?"

It's almost impossible to stop from launching into his 'stop Charlie from doing something stupid' voice, but he does his best to temper it, make it a little more understanding and a little less demanding. Charlie doesn't always respond well to demanding; sometimes it just makes him more stubborn.

"It'll be fine."

He doesn't know that, and he's never been an optimist. Even saying that rings false, somehow, but he makes an effort.

[dowhatisays]

Yes, Charlie does give him a very disbelieving look at that line.

"You knows every time you says that I thinks you got into the drugs again."

[recognize_an_opportunity]

"I haven't had any drugs at all today."

Yet. He might have to, if they keep having this conversation. He doesn't like the way it's going, doesn't like anything about it, actually.

"Look, it's different here than it is at home. We adapt, yes? We can handle that. We've handled worse."

[dowhatisays]

"We ain't never had no one find out before, though." They've always been careful, always been good at it. Years they've kept it up and a few weeks in this place sends that all to shit? It makes him feel sick again, slumping into his chair more. The anger from earlier has ebbed away, morphed into the deep, bone-tired feeling that often follows, making him want to plant himself face-first into the couch and not move for a few hours.

[recognize_an_opportunity]

"No one expected it before. No one knew what to look for. Even if they had, they'd've dismissed it as ridiculous. Ned has a... unique frame of reference. He sees things."

And as much as it bothers him, makes him feel vulnerable, he has to admire that, too. Ned is observant, and that always scores points in his book. He wishes, somehow, that Ned had been able to overlook this, but then, for Ned, this wasn't nearly as shocking as it would have been for someone from their time.

He knows Charlie feels sick, can tell it just by looking at him, and he feels sick, too. He's felt sick ever since the goddamn tiger attack, and he's pretty sure his stomach's never going to feel normal again.

[dowhatisays]

He feels lost, far adrift from anything familiar and he hates that fucking feeling. He wants to just curl up with his head in Meyer's lap, close his eyes and pretend they're home again, but he knows how pathetic and needy that would make him look. But he can't not touch him right now, either.

He reaches for him, first a hand on his shoulder, and then higher to curl his fingers into the hair behind his ears.

[recognize_an_opportunity]

It's taking him conscious effort not to get up and walk away, to retreat from anything emotional as he always does. He could go take a nap right now, could go lie down and try to block everything out for awhile, but he knows that if he tries, the thoughts will just be whirring through his head, distracting him more, making him feel worse. So he stays where he is, lets Charlie reach for him, lets him touch him.

He has to break eye contact, though, has to look down at the table. There are too many things in his mind right now, and none of them need to be expressed. He's been vulnerable enough during their time here. He hates it -- it's part of what's contributing to the sick feeling.

[dowhatisays]

He's too good at sensing all of Meyer's little moods, at the way he breaks eye contact, just barely leans away from his hand. So he takes it back and shoves them in his pockets again.

"I'll talks to him tomorrow."

[recognize_an_opportunity]

"Okay."

Sometimes he hates that Charlie can sense his moods. Nobody else can, and he's gotten used to being so damn good at hiding everything that it startles him when Charlie seemingly reads his mind.

He'd ask if Charlie'll be okay, or tell him to feel better, but that all sounds vaguely insulting somehow. Charlie can feel however he needs to feel -- no amount of cajoling or attempts at calming him are going to change that. So he just settles for a tiny, almost imperceptible smile, and a repeat of what he'd said before: "It'll be fine."

[dowhatisays]

"Yeah. Fine. I needs to go out, alright?" He feels antsy and crawling in his own skin. He knows there's only so far he can walk in this place, but he needs to be anywhere but here for a while. He makes for the door, grabbing his jacket on the way out.

[recognize_an_opportunity]

"Yeah, okay. See you."

If they were at home, he'd figure Charlie was probably going out to get into trouble in some way -- fights, drugs, sex, any of it. Here, he doesn't know exactly what there is to do, but he's pretty sure Charlie'll find a way to make it work for him. As for himself, he's just going to go back to bed.