I won't pretend that I intend to stop living

[mildwildchild]

Who: erryone in Pride
What: recovering from the events of December 7
When: late December 7/early December 8 - ???
Where: Pride HQ and wherever else they're allowed to go
Warnings: Carnies? references to I Will Twist the Knife


So maybe you've just gotten back from the most mellow kidnapping ever and you're itching to tell your bandmates about what went on with the cool helmeted guys while everyone else was at that stuffy party. Unfortunately, you'll have to wait a little while to tell them, but that's okay - surely you can keep yourselves occupied until everyone else returns.

Or maybe you're one of those who wound up at that party of Naomi's, and your night was a little less fun. Now you're back at HQ, possibly with mended physical injuries and almost certainly with a few new psychological scars. Now's your chance to check in on your friends and bandmates who missed out on all the trauma and deal with things as best you can.

Comments

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie flinches a little at Maxxie's reaction - Jamie himself is on edge and would probably have responded much more badly, if their positions had been reversed. He hadn't meant to startle him.]

Sorry. Couldn't sleep.

[He rests his chin on the back of the sofa, watching Maxxie with an expression that's both dulled with exhaustion and unusually somber, eyes tracking his every movement.]

You're up early, too.

[notahobby]

[Maxxie sets up the coffee moodily and then turns to lean on the counter facing Jamie.]

Yeah, couldn't sleep either. Trying to... get rid of this fucking hangover, I guess.

[Is it a hangover or just an extended nightmare? He can't tell.]

[mildwildchild]

Guess at least I don't have that to worry about.

[It's less an attempt at a joke than an effort to keep the conversation going.]

[notahobby]

[Maxxie's speechless for a second, looking down at the floor as he tries to shoo away the thoughts and memories of Jamie there, in that room...]

Does it hurt?

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie blinks at him slowly a couple of times, as though he's not really sure what Maxxie's asking about. When it finally hits him, Jamie averts his eyes, feeling suddenly awkward and embarrassed and ashamed.]

I wasn't trying to - I mean, I didn't...want you to -

[He trails off, unable to piece his thoughts together into anything coherent.]

...sorry.

[notahobby]

[Maxxie's confused for a second - why is Jamie apologizing for this? He should be sorry for bringing it up at all, since it was Jamie's experience that was so awful. Maxxie had a pretty bad time too, but he figures being one of those bodies in that room was probably worse in the long run.]

No, it's... If you don't want to talk about it it's fine. Sorry I brought it up.

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie's silent for a little while, facing away from Maxxie, his cheek pressed to the back of the couch. Eventually he shrugs, speaking uncharacteristically quietly.]

I just...I didn't wanna... [Make Maxxie feel bad? Play the "who's got it worse" game? Bring up last night at all? Jamie doesn't know, so he gives up trying to explain himself, instead glancing cautiously at his bandmate.]

You okay?

[notahobby]

[Maxxie pushes off the counter and snaps back:] Are you?

[His eyes are wide and distressed, but he reels himself in immediately and turns to get a coffee mug. Except he has to open a few cupboards before he collects himself and remembers where they are. After a moment's hesitation he gets a second one for Jamie and shakily fills them both with coffee.]

I mean, fuck. You were... you were fucking--

[He can't seem to get the word out, so he shakes his head and stares down at the coffee.]

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie visibly flinches at Maxxie's tone, suddenly alarmed but unsure of what exactly he did to upset him. Except for totally avoiding all of his questions.]

I just - I know you get upset about stuff, so - [His voice is low and tentative, like he's afraid of being heard or even noticed at all.]

Look, if - if you wanna be alone I can leave.

[notahobby]

[Maxxie throws his hands up, shaking his head again, and it looks a bit like he's trying not to cry.]

Why are you acting like I'm the victim? All I did was get high and then I had to see all of... of that. But you were...

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie flinches again at the tossing-up of hands. He's not dealing too well with sudden movements right now.]

I don't know. I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to upset you. [It all comes out in a shaky rush, like he's desperately trying to find the right thing to say to make Maxxie less distraught.]

[notahobby]

Stop apologizing!

[Maxxie pauses, trying hard to calm himself down. Even if he doesn't upset Jamie more, he's just going to end up waking up the rest of the band and god knows they need their sleep.]

This is just all so fucked up.

[mildwildchild]

[Sorry bro.]

...I know it's fucked up. I don't know what to say to make it less fucked up.

[He doesn't know how to deal with any of this. He doesn't even know how to process it. All he knows is that he doesn't want Maxxie yelling and gesturing angrily and getting moody, because less so than ever Jamie can't navigate the minefield of other people's emotions right now.]

[notahobby]

[Maxxie doesn't say anything, but he does pick up the coffee and bring it to Jamie. He puts it down on the table at the end of the couch and then sits in a nearby armchair, drawing his legs up onto the chair with him and holding his mug close to his chest.]

There's nothing you can say, dude. It's fucked up and that's it.

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie shifts around so that he's tucked back into the corner of the sofa as Maxxie moves to the chair. He's got a blanket wrapped around him that he dragged off his bed - he's felt cold ever since they got home last night.]

I'm s - I mean...it's - it sucks that you had to. See all that last night. I mean, we're - I'm okay now, but.

[...but there are some things that stick in your head and don't want to leave. Jamie gets that.]

[notahobby]

[Maxxie stares down at his coffee.]

I just... I didn't know if you guys were really dead or not, and I didn't know if you'd ever come back.

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie rubs the hem of the blanket in between his thumb and forefinger, eyes downcast in the dim light.]

...I wasn't sure for a while either.

[notahobby]

[Maxxie looks up at him, hesitant.]

I know you don't really like the whole hugging thing, but... do you think...?

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie stares at the blanket some more, then shrugs and huffs out a kind of dry chuckle through his nose.]

Can't hurt.

[Hold him and tell him everything's going to be all right.]

[notahobby]

[Maxxie puts down his coffee and then gets out of his chair, crossing to the couch and lifting the blanket so he can get underneath it. He snuggles right up to Jamie, putting an arm around his shoulders and pulling him in to wrap the other arm around him as well. Then he sighs. It feels good, like a final reassurance that Jamie's there and he's mostly alright.]

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie doesn't respond immediately, just sort of lets himself be manhandled as Maxxie sees fit, but eventually he leans into the embrace and breathes a little sigh of his own. It still feels weird, and he's still more than a little self-conscious, but at least Maxxie's warm. Warmth is nice.

[He's quiet for a while, and then sort of apropos of nothing says:] Sorry I'm such a dick about everything.

[notahobby]

[Maxxie thinks on that a moment, keeping still.]

You're not a dick about everything.

[mildwildchild]

[Jamie lets out another short huff of air into Maxxie's chest. It's not immediately clear if it's a sigh or a laugh.]

I'm just a dick like 85% of the time.

[notahobby]

Seems like more of a topic-based thing than time to me.

[He can't manage a smile right now, but his tone is somewhat wry to imply that he's joking.]

[mildwildchild]

Hah. Yeah.

[Jamie shifts position a little, pulling his knees up to his chest and leaning more heavily against Maxxie. It's weak and childish and super gay, but he's just too cold and tired and sore to move away from him.]

...you're still a lot nicer to me than I probably deserve.