interstellar5555 | NO FEAR [OPEN]

Entry tags:

NO FEAR [OPEN]

Who: Steven and anybody in the Defying Atmosphere penthouse.
What: Greg is rewarded with a slightly used pet child.
When: About 24 hours after the SC concert where he gets kidnapped.
Where: DA's penthouse in Virgo HQ.
Warnings: There is a laundry list of things wrong with this situation.

No matter the intention, the violence of being kidnapped leaves a mark on a person, and that's the lingering anxiety that Steven feels now. He was pulled away from his life once again, as terrible as it might have been. He was manhandled, drugged, and dragged off somewhere else, even as he pleaded, for fear of angering his keepers again.

There was a period of claustraphobic darkness followed by a time where blinding white is all he can remember. And then, suddenly, he finds himself here...a penthouse that is totally unfamiliar to him, and is told that he's going to be with his dad now.

He doesn't know if he can believe it, or what he should do. So, once he's left alone, all he does is curl himself up on one of the couches and wait. He's been dressed in fresh clothing, simple in comparison to anything he's made a habit of wearing - the flashes of pink cracklines are still bright on his exposed skin.

He has no control over anything anymore. He may as well stop pretending.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sans doesn't even stick around to greet the kid. He just sees Steven in the penthouse and turns around and goes the other way. He doesn't want to talk to the kid about this. He needs to talk to Greg, because whatever is going on here...he feels like Greg must be involved in it, or else Sans would have heart about this from him way in advance.

He refuses to acknowledge the quiet hurt of wounded pride in his chest. Greg didn't tell him about this - does he even know? If he did...

He shrugs it off and moves towards the bedroom areas, while doing his best to not be acknowledged by Steven. Thankfully, it's pretty easy. That kid has been spaced out ever time he's seen him, and this one is no different. He raps his knuckles against Greg's partly open door, the slightest edge to his otherwise casual voice as he calls in.

"'Ey. Greg. What's the haps, pal?"

There's a pause before Greg answers. The knocking first had him assuming it had to be someone else; he's become all too used to Sans arriving with no warning.

"Sans. Hey, bud."

Greg's smile is tired, bracing himself against what's to come. He knew this conversation would happen sometime. He wants it to go better than he expects it to, but no matter how he plays it out in his head, it never works out.

"I was hoping you'd drop in soon."

Well, this is awkward. Sans lets himself in without any further hesitation, and his expression is...searching. That's the more mild level of 'outright judgmental,' which he is capable of getting into on rare occasions. It's becoming more and more common, though - it's funny what caring about shit does to a person's opinion of things.

"That so," he says, less a question and more like a faintly skeptical statement. He could have texted him if he actually wanted him there.

"Then I'm guessin' you know what I'm here to ask about." He jerks a thumb in the direction of the living areas of the penthouse.

Greg glances back in the direction of the penthouse, as though following Sans' gesture. It's all anyone wants to ask him about. With pretty good reason. He sags and rubs at a temple, closing the door behind Sans.

"I..." No, he still hasn't figured out how to start. He shifts his weight, struggling to find whatever comfortable position will magically make this conversation less uncomfortable too.

"I wanted to tell you, I couldn't think how to... it just... happened. He showed up yesterday. I didn't..." He bites hard at his thumb. "I can't let him go back there, Sans."

Sans's brow furrows, some of the skepticism leaving in favour out confusion and a bit of concern. Just showed up? If Greg really means that Steven showed up here without reason then there is something really bad happening - these things don't happen without a cost.

"And...you still dunno why?" he prompts, coming further into the room. For a moment, he's totally willing to buy into that as an explanation. This happened outside of Greg's control, just like everything else, right? That would make this so much easier to deal with.

He can't believe this is happening. He can't believe he has to say this sort of thing to Sans, to lie to his face after Sans has trusted him with way more than he ever deserved.

"I... I mean, there's only one reason for it, right? Why that guy'd do something like this for me?" His shoulders hunch, arms crossing anxiously. "It's like.... like a reverse-hostage situation."

Greg had mentioned that Blanche had made this offer to him before. Way back when, after Naomi's murder. Greg had, of course, declined. It admittedly seemed a lot crazier then, when Steven was still just doing his own thing and wasn't suffering some kind of debilitating alien illness.

So did the guy really just decide to force the issue?

"So, what, kid ends up here and now...he's tryin' to threaten you with that?" Sans is willing to take the explanation - does he really have reason not to? Despite what Frisk told him, he hasn't noticed anything off about Greg recently besides the same pain everyone else has been dealing with too. "Has he even talked to you about this, yet? How is he even doing this, you'd think you'd hear Santiago's screeching from across the city by now..."

Up to this point, it hasn't been really lying, not fully--omitting details, emphasizing certain points, nothing untrue. It feels terrible, but Greg can dance around it for a little. This is where that falls apart, that flat question. More than anything, Greg wishes he could tell him the whole story, everything he's found. He can't, he knows it. Not if he wants to make sure Steven stays safe.

Sans would understand being lied to if he knew. Greg's doing what's right.

"You know him. He never likes talking to people up front. His people are keeping watch. Hah, ha, they'll... talk to me when they're good and ready, I guess..." See? Not... not fully lying. Not any specific point. This is... it's fine. "I haven't seen anything about it in the papers. Santiago's probably keeping on the downlow so she can strike unexpected, or something... I dunno man, I got no clue."

"Well, shit."

Sans plops down on Greg's bed, indicating with a gesture that his friend should do the same. With Blanche targeting him directly...that causes a lot of problems. Not least because, as Sans now knows, the magic seems to bind master and slave together. He taps his thumb on his lips, shaking his head a little.

"Bet it's because you've cracked the code on that magic of theirs," he says. "He wanted you to make it worth his while and now maybe you have."

Greg can't look at Sans. He feels clammy. It's all right, he had to, it's for Steven. To keep his son safe, and close, what do a few little skipped details hurt? Sans is a good person. He'll understand. Well, no, he won't, because Greg can't explain it. But Sans would understand. In spirit. That's the same thing.

"It keeps getting stronger," Greg admits. "Every time I think I know what it does, more stuff happens." There's no point in covering THAT up, at least. Especially since... "I'm pretty lousy at hiding it, I keep summoning light shows and explosions every time I perform, they probably picked it up easy." His back leans against the wall and he presses at his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Everyone warned me not to let this happen..."

"Well...what can you do, I guess. You couldn't stop performing. It didn't give you a choice, man." He scratches his head a little. "You're gifted. More than anybody else I've seen at it so far. Sometimes you choose magic and sometimes magic chooses you."

A natural gift. Born with talent. Both of these are concepts that feel familiar to him where that's concerned. It doesn't matter if you wanted it, it makes itself your responsibility anyway. Even if you choose to waste that skill completely.

That encouragement sinks, hard and cold, into Greg's stomach. Yeah, see, Sans is fine. Sans believes in him, trusts him to do the right thing. That's what he's doing now. It's all for good in the end. Sans is some sort of expert on magic, so Greg should trust him on this; it feels like a curse now, but maybe it really is a blessing in disguise. He can be like--

A cannon glowing pink, lifted by the boy's small frame--a little face at the end of the hand--an impenetrable shield holding out the ocean as they drive--a warm, wet spot slapped down on his leg, before the pain disappears--an expansive swarm of melons, covering the whole street--

Greg stares into the middle distance, overwhelmed. Finally, slowly, he sinks his face into his hands again. "Ah.... haha.... uhh. Man. I've never been good at more than one thing before."

"Technically speaking, it is still just one thing," he says, lifting his hands in a shrug. "Music is music whether you're doing magic at the same time or not, am I right? Think of it as expanding your repertoire."

"Besides..." he says a moment later, a bit less lightly. "If this is what they brought us here for...then it might just've been inevitable."

Sans' advice can hardly be called reassuring, but there's something to it. Greg's been trying hard to think what he could have done differently to prevent this, and while a few options are clear, things do seem to have been moving in this direction regardless.

Greg had once joked at Sans that if he started caring about fame more than music, he'd need to be offed. He felt like this might be worse.

Slowly, he sinks down to the floor. "Whatever it is, I fell right into their trap."

He did, didn't he?

Sans watches Greg sink down to the ground, his attempts at desperate positivity dying within him, those defensive walls already starting to crumble. He knows what his instincts have been telling him, ever since Frisk offered their warning. Greg is susceptible, they have leverage against him, and the guys never been a fighter, even at the best of times. Sans has always been good at reading people, and he knows there's something that Greg isn't telling him.

Kid just showing up out of nowhere...yeah, right. Stupid.

He doesn't know that Greg is deceiving him, but he feels like he might as well. No matter what's between the lines, there's something. This can't possibly go well. It was never going to go well. Even if they haven't pulled him in yet...

The dread that'd been building within him all month manifests with a sudden sharpness in his gut. Greg will just keep lying to him, and he'll just keep lying to Greg by pretending he doesn't know.

But they both know by now, don't they? The person they remember doesn't exist. They never really have.

"I died so many years ago.
You have made me feel like it isn't so..."

He starts singing without really having any idea why, the emotional intensity of his realization just kind of...coming out? In the moment, he feels no need to stop it, either. Sans doesn't sing often, especially like this, his voice quiet and rough but easily on key.

"But, why you couldn't come to me,
I think I kinda know."

He's not looking at him as he speaks (sings?), his gaze settled into the space in front of him. Guitar plays from nowhere.

"You're scared, prepared to cut a deal.
Tryin' to protect the ones you love,
No matter what they feel.
Can't blame you when it comes to it,
'Cause none of this was real..."

This time, he realizes the singing is happening, though it fails to strike him as strange so much as different; a perfectly natural, musical state. For a moment he wonders if he's causing it, but no. This is just how people communicate, after all.

"Sans..."

Too many things have happened at once for Greg to dwell on these details, but the knowledge has been lying in wait in the back of his consciousness. The older man he used to be, the undead being Sans is turning into... there's no way those both could have existed, and also the friendship they shared long ago. One reality has to get ruined to make room for two more.

"Of... of course it's real. We're real. We're here."

He can't trust anything about himself anymore: not his past, not his thoughts, not his actions. It's better if no one trusts him, right now. In spite of that, he has to be able to trust something. He has to be able to trust his friend.

Sans cuts in again, continuing the song as he stands and turns to face him, a sharp look in his eye.

"That's great.
But I don't wanna play.
'Cause knowing you here touches me,
More than I can say..."

Except...he's saying it right now? The absurdity of the action, the violation of his inner life, doesn't even occur to him. He just keeps saying what he's thinking to the music, as it begins to grow heated.

"And since I'm doomed to hinder you,
You should really stay away-
And let me rest in peace."

Ah, yes. Now...now they are in the shit. The fact that he's moving to the music is subtle, but it's happening. Just as he begins what sounds like the chorus, he suddenly teleports in front of Greg, his hands tucked in his pockets.

"Let me rest in peace,
Let me get some sleep,
Let me take my love and bury it
In a hole six foot deep.
I can lay my body down,
But I can't find my sweet release-"

He turns from him then, stalking back across the room, his shoulders hunched and tense.

"So let me rest in peace."

Greg gulps at air. It's a few brief words, a couple simple sentences, yet it carries so much with it. How can he respond all at once? When did things get so complicated?

"I don't know what to say... I can't force you to stay. This isn't how I thought that we might part... this isn't what I wanted at the start."

There's a cadence to Greg's words, without fully breaking the way into music. He can't organize his thoughts fast enough to give a good answer. Maybe yhere isn't one. He huddles against the wall.

"Maybe this can work out. Can't claim I don't have doubts... It's better if this could protect your heart. This isn't what I wanted at the start. "

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

NO FEAR [OPEN]

FOR GREG, WITH LOVE

no need to put the love in caps right... ha ha ha

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject