[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

[thecutdiamond]

She'll pretend, for his sake, that the dropping of the cigarette is on purpose. Her expression is something like sympathetic as she approaches him, movements a little careful as she leans against the cane she's had to use the past couple days. Apparently intervening in fistfights tended to aggravate old injuries. Who knew.

"May I join you?"

[denythyfather]

The forced smile drops from Adrien's face just as the cigarette does. Which is maybe for the better, because forcing anything around Cadogan feels unnatural and wrong.

Still. Even if forcing a mood he doesn't feel isn't what he wants to do, Adrien has a feeling it'd be better to not show the extent of his shock at seeing the lit-up cigarette on the ground. Better to keep a passive, apathetic expression on his face, allow Cadogan to try to pretend his way out of this.

In a very un-Adrien-like action, he moves to stand next to Cadogan instead of speaking. Raises a hand to his elbow instead of asking what's wrong. Because he knows what's wrong - with Cadogan, with the Deck, with the heavy atmosphere that's trying to crush them. He's starting to feel like there's no point in putting the hurt into words.

[gardenplots]

She'd promised Roisin she'd stop and check on the boy after she finished her errand at the Crystal Palace. It's like a mother to worry, and Maggie's not above using the innate guilt of a good boy if it helps to put her friend's mind at ease.

She changes her mind when she sees him, hunched and lost and alone. Poor boy. Dear boy. They never understood what they asked of them, did they, their leaders? They should be happy to have the matter taken from their hands rather than be forced to deal with sticky political situations.

Heaving a silent sigh, Maggie slips up to stand beside him, tsking at the dropped cigarette.

"Don't stop on my account."

[onlytolerable]

Sophie notices the dropped cigarette. Of course she does. She's only surprised it's taken him this long for the stress to break him down. One more crime to add to Nicholas Lancaster's slate.

She's glad he's dead, hopes he suffered and reeled with shock and pain before he took his last breath. She only wishes she could have dealt the blow herself. It shouldn't have been Cadogan. He felt things too deeply, breathed in guilt and recriminations like they were air. He'd defended himself. They oughtn't to have made him feel a criminal for it. But those are words she's not allowed to say. She can't even express thanks for bringing Charlotte's killer to justice.

But she can stand silently beside him and ignore the still burning cigarette nestled in the grass. She can shift so that their arms don't quite touch, offer the warmth of friendship and love.

[heartsandminds]

She'd never taking up smoking. It made her a rarity among medical students and doctors, actually, who despite knowing exactly - exactly, in minute detail - what cigarettes did to your insides...smoked in droves. There was a simple reason for it; several times a day you had to get out of the hospital before everything about hospitals choked you, and smoking was one of the best excuses around.

Jo had, when she'd been in Seattle, taken to doing plies on the hospital roof, on the other side of the helipad. Sometimes the 'plies' had taken the form of leaning against the railing and taking huge, gulping breaths of air.

She'd tried to help when Cadogan had quit smoking. He'd gotten a quarter every time they were in a bar and he reached for a cigarette but put the pack back - and she'd gotten one every time he'd actually lit up. It's that that has her reaching her hand out, palm up.

"Pay up."