[ota] join jack and the boys; be in a band

[diemwnt]

The world gets small. That's the worst part.

The period of probation is good, really. Being away from work, sitting in the solitude of house arrest, makes the loss of interest in the rest of the world less damaging. Lets him work his way around to a normal sleep schedule again; get through the sharper periods of nightmares and into the dull sort of sleep he lives with generally. Gives him time to work on the shakiness in his hands and the way he jumps at tiny noises, to refocus on what's immediately before him rather than letting his mind skitter everywhere.

But the world gets small. The world stays small even when, with a firm slap on the wrist, he's let back into his office. The future sits on the end of his desk, barely extending to the end of the week.

He barely notices he's gone out to the gardens. Barely realizes he's bummed an actual cigarette off one of the kitchen Threes and settled in for a proper smoke.

Fifteen months was a good run. And the world is so small. And yes, the smoke entering his lungs spikes the pain of each breath at first, but the nicotine hit--real, proper, after all these months--is more than worth it, in a world that surely isn't going to last more than through the rounding of the next few days.

He'll drop the cigarette if approached, of course. He'll even pretend it was on purpose, and not the shock of tension at the sudden sound of another human being.

Comments

[onlytolerable]

She can't carry his weight, but she can shore him up, pour into him all the love and strength she knows. She's starting to learn thanks to Adrien.

"Familia In Primis," she whispers. "The Berthier words. Family is all. We don't get to choose our first family." She hugs him, careful of his ribs. "But we do choose our second. Brawd." He understands, right? He's her second family. They'll struggle through this together. She and Adrien and Sitara.

And Cadogan.

[diemwnt]

There was very, very little they got to chose in life. How long things lasted--what other people they were allowed to share things with.

But for now, he can pull an arm around Sophie. For now, he can press his forehead firmly against her temple to breathe.

This has to be enough.

[onlytolerable]

"Were you here the first time I challenged to Eight? I can't remember. That was--goodness!--eight years ago."

[diemwnt]

It takes a moment to shake his head. As much as, with her and Adrien and Sitara, it felt he had been here a lifetime--in a good way--it hadn't at all been. Only six years, really.

[onlytolerable]

"I was barely twenty, still set on the path my parents had mapped out, still--" she frowns. "Still under Gerhardt's thumb. Carlisle did a lot of talking, mud slinging I suppose you'd call it, before the bout. Said stuff about the family...my sisters. For once I was happy to fight. I was too young--too stupid--to keep my temper. Gerhardt used that and--" She sighs. "That's all excuse, isn't it? What matters is the final result. I nearly killed the man. He was in a coma for six months. He...recovered, but he was never the same after. He left the Deck."

It's not the same. She knows it isn't. "You need to be here to be godfather to our babies. That's a life long commitment." What would she have done if she'd lost him, too?

[diemwnt]

It's not the same. She knows it's not the same. But it feels close. That's something he's found comforting about the Deck.

Sophie knew what it was to do this too young. She knew what it was like to feel a life in your hands rather than at the other end of a rifle.

Breathing deep came a little easier as he pressed his forehead briefly to hers. Just for a moment before nodding.

These were the people he would be here for.

[onlytolerable]

Carefully, she extends her pinky. He's promised her once. Consider this a booster promise. She just hopes celery isn't in her future.

[diemwnt]

It takes a second to properly register. Another second to sort through the gesture fully.

Another to lift one hand for the simple questions /What?/

There were a few promises she could be asking for right now. He wasn't sure he could agree to all of them.

[onlytolerable]

He should know she wouldn't ask the impossible. It troubles her he feels the need to clarify. "That you'll be here for us them--do your best to be here. No one really knows...." She blinks back tears. He'd been hurt. Lotty--she knows all too well Fortune could turn her back to any of them.

[diemwnt]

No one really knows.

But maybe that means no one really knows they'll live forever. No one knows there's time ahead--good things to be had.

His finger links briefly with hers before he shifts to tug her in again. It hurts to hold her tight, ribs aching, but he's got to.

[onlytolerable]

All she wants is his promise to live for all the time allotted him. It's all anyone can ask or expect. Her hug is more gentle than his. She has a fear of breaking something off and accidentally killing him, but she isn't about to admit it.

"How's your friend?" she asks finally. "The one who was hurt?"

[diemwnt]

Little steps in the right direction. Little bits and pieces of progress.

His face is still cloudy as he shakes his head, pulls back to get his hands speaking again.

/Getting better. Shaken./

[onlytolerable]

"I bet she's sick of people fussing at her if she's anything like you." She squeezes him again. It's alright. She understands about a need for companionship and comfort warring with the need for isolation. Very innocently, she adds, "She'd probably welcome a visit from someone who won't pester her."

[diemwnt]

His breath comes in a little huff as he shakes his head.

/She needs to rest./

She also needed someone who wasn't part of the problem. At the moment, bearing new fresh scars and bruises from being part of the violence, how could he possibly be what she needed in her life?

[onlytolerable]

"Mmmm. Did she tell you that?" It doesn't sound like anything a friend would say. She gives him the look she used to give Kat whenever an invisible gremlin ate the last macaron.

[diemwnt]

Swallowing hurts just a little. Meeting her eyes isn't at all possible for a moment.

/She doesn't need me like this./

She didn't need him with a visible crack. She didn't need him smoking and jumping and staring into space. Sophie didn't need him like this either, frankly.

[onlytolerable]

She allows that to sink in. After a moment she observes, "I think you meant to say you don't want her to see you." If this woman didn't like Cadogan--all of Cadogan--then she didn't deserve him. She'd rather he found out now if that was the case.

But she trusts his judgment. She doubts he'd associate with anyone like that. "We don't lean very well, do we?"

[diemwnt]

Of course he didn't want Tess to see him like this. Of course he wanted to protect her--everyone he cared about--from the mess which came after taking a life. Wasn't that part of why he was here? Why he had left Cardiff and set up a life where people might not know who he was or what he had been?

His eyes close briefly as he sighs.

/Not really. Still learning./