animus_network | 4th Time in Text

Fuck. [Dave is beginning to get that the list of things his Shadow didn't say is a lot shorter than what he did say. This is making his life so hard.] Dude, I'm not scared of you. [He's just really bad at doing the whole talk about what's on his mind dealio.]

I guess. We could. They aren't really my specialty but we can have a feelings jam. But, uhh, what else did he tell you? [He would kill his Shadow if he hadn't already done so, god damn it.]

[John's mouth quirks to the side a little and he takes a small step backward, uncertain.]

I'm actually pretty sure you already know most of what he told me.

What else did he tell you? [There's not much else the other could have said. He just really hopes the labyrinth was brought up. That was something he was actually determined to never talk about. He doesn't think he can talk about it without completely losing it.]

Fuck. Sorry. That probably wasn't something you wanted to hear right upon arriving in Tower de fuck this place seriously.

I'm just not allowed to ask you to talk to me about stuff in general, am I? Jeez, cagey. [He's trying to lighten the mood a little, but he's also a little put off that Dave is so determined to only talk about what John was already spoiled for.]

Well, no, but now that I'm aware that my best friend has kind of been dragged backwards through a mulcher and then had his wounds cleaned with steel wool and lemon, I'd like to kind of give him some bandages in the form of a bro chat.

I just want to know on a scale of completely uncalled for and good fucking riddance it's gone now based on what bullshit he decided to let loose. [He doesn't like the idea of people knowing stuff that he didn't say himself.]

That was fucking deep, John. You are the ironic unicorn bandaid that I put on my knee because I fell off my bike and skinned it. It is you.

[John just rolls his eyes.]

Jesus Christ. See, it's that kind of stuff that makes me ignore you! I'm trying to actually have a decent, meaningful conversation and you turn it around to your ironic bullshittery like you're not taking my concern seriously at all. Jeez.

[He huffs, and folds his arms over his chest.]

I guess the part that concerned me most was something he said about five days of watching us get tortured. I guess he meant me and Jade and Rose?

What are you talking about? I couldn't ask for a better fucking bandaid. It's a complim-

[Wow. What. See Dave? See Dave go paler than he already was. He might as well be dead. Or a ghost. Or something.

Also, he's pretty sure he forgot to breath just now. He's actually not sure how to react. But he's also quick to quickly try and push for a different subject. Even if he literally had to shove his hands in his pockets because they were shaking.] It was some screwed up nightmare. You might be getting those a lot while here. [Dave thinks he did a pretty good job at keeping his voice even.

Although it might partly be because he's really determined to think it was a nightmare. Denial. Good friend. Best friend.]

[Honestly it's that sudden abrupt paling of his skin and the way his hands shake before he shoves them into his pockets that alerts John to the fact that this Wasn't Okay. His eyebrows knit together in the center and he tries to not look too concerned.]

...Dave, it wasn't just a nightmare, was it.

[Dave is trying to stay as calm as possible. He can feel his heart hammering in his throat and he just feels completely sick. He didn't want to talk about this before. He wasn't going to want to talk about it now.]

Pretty sure it was a nightmare. What makes you think it wasn't? It's just one of those nightmares like you went to school in just your underwear and you wake up thinking your life is over, only to find that it was just the worst dream you could ever had and it was just your mind doing stupid shit to freak you out.

Then how come you're wigging out so bad?

[His voice is just calm, and sort of quiet. He's treating Dave like his dad always treated him when he had nightmares as a child. Because even if he's pretty sure this wasn't a nightmare, the whole thing reeks of an extended, waking nightmare, so he figures it works well enough to treat it like one.]

I'm not freaking out. I'm so chill right now that I'm basically playing friends with the penguins and polar bears. I make the North Pole look like an exotic, tropical vacation. They needed to invent a new word because the snow was so cold, it's even colder than snow originally was. [He has no idea what he's rambling about, but he doesn't care.]

[John doesn't really know what he's doing when he steps forward and puts his hands on Dave's shoulders. He frowns for a moment and then sets his jaw.]

...look, Dave, it's okay. I don't really know what happened but it sounds like some bad shit. Even if it was just a nightmare, you're totally allowed to be upset and freak out about it, okay? I'm not judging, here.

[He squeezes his shoulders a little.] You're my best friend, okay? I just want you to be okay.

[Dave is trying so hard not to just have a huge breakdown. Not in front of John. He didn't want John to see him as some huge mess. His pride and just the thought of not being able to handle these things was too much.]

It's not like being upset will change what happened. [That was...fairly vague. He wasn't denying that it didn't happen but it didn't leave much room to say whether it was just a nightmare or it was something Dave actually experienced.

I haven't been okay for awhile, dude. [At least he's admitting that. To some extent.]

[You are breaking his heart, Dave. He's starting to get just the slightest bit nauseous from how upset he is for you, here. He takes a tiny step forward and ducks his head, trying to force himself into Dave's line of sight.]

...hey. That's okay, too. You don't have to be okay. Just be Dave.

[Dave's shades make it hard to tell where Dave is looking, but it's probably not at John. That, and he shuffles just a tiny bit back.]

Dave has left the building. He's taken a vacation off in some faraway place away from all this bullshit. [What if he doesn't want to be Dave? Maybe if he was someone else, he'd be more useful.]

Hey-- heyheyhey, no. Come back.

[John shuffles with him, grip on his shoulders tightening.]

You're not okay, and that's fine. You don't have to be okay, Dave. I want to help. [His voice has gotten sort of small, and a little pleading. Come on, Dave. Let him in, he just wants to help you be okay eventually.]

[Why is this happening? He doesn't want this to happen. He was fine in his corner of denial and pretending he was okay, John. Why you gotta remind him that it isn't okay and that he's pretty screwed up right now?]

And how do you plan on helping? [It would probably sound angry, if there was absolutely no bite in that comment, and if it were not for the almost pleading tone in his voice. Like it was more of a legitimate question and less so a snarky remark.]

I don't know, but I'll figure it out. It'll probably involve hugging you for like an entire day. [John's getting a little bit frantic here, because he's afraid you're gonna move away from him and shut him out completely, and with knowing how upset you are he really, really doesn't want that.]

Look, Dave, I don't really know how to help but I'm gonna try, and you've got to trust me on that much. I'm not gonna just let you be hurt and upset and ignore it.

Don't wanna be a Debbie downer, but an entire day's worth of hugging probably isn't going to cover it. [His voice was slowly returning to a more controlled tone. Dave is doing exactly what John is afraid of. Dave was forcing himself back into an okay mental state. Even if it meant going back to avoiding what was bother him and never really confronting it.]

I'm not hurt over anything. I mean, yeah, it fucking hurts getting impaled and skinned or whatever, but that was awhile ago.

Oh my God stop it already. [He shakes him.]

Look-- I'm not really one to talk, here, but I haven't told anybody how much it fucking hurts that I saw my dad dead. There, now you know. It fucking hurts, still, and I'm not gonna lie and tell you I haven't cried myself to sleep a good couple of nights on the damn boat because I miss him and there's nothing I can do about it. Your stupid shadow talked about that, too, and I about slugged him. Not talking about stuff isn't okay, Dave. Especially not when it's this bad.

[He shakes him a little again.] So, jeez, I dunno. If you won't talk to me for whatever reason, just promise me you'll talk to somebody. You're gonna kill yourself like this.

Because that really makes a difference? Whether it kills me or not? Because I'll just come back. Because not talking about it isn't heroic or just. it's just fucking cowardly. Even if I do die, I just wake up back in my bed good as new. It doesn't matter. It's not like I'm really good at staying alive anyways. Did you know this is only the third or so death that's counted. Let's not forget the countless time loops I've fucked up while in this Tower or all the times someone has killed me off because they fucking lost it somehow. [He shouldn't really throwing so much vitriol at John. John just wanted to help, but now that he's started, he can't really stop himself from continuing.]

I'm sorry. There wasn't anyway around all of out guardians kicking the bucket. And at least he isn't here. Here, where my stupid self got my Bro killed again. Because he needs to know what it feels like dying here. He didn't even know he's going to die. They thought it would be cute to pull him before shit hit the fan in our session.

Is this what you want to hear, John? I've been here since Valentine's Day. I died twice on my first day here because of some fucked up circumstances. Whether I talk about how the Tower has wronged me or not isn't going to somehow save me from dying.

[John recoils from him when he first starts spitting acid at him, his hands slowly letting go of his shoulders as he takes a small step backward. Since he keeps going, John just stays quiet and lets him, because it's what he wanted, wasn't it? For Dave to talk.]

[By the time he's done John's hunched his shoulders a little and is staring at his feet, hands balled into awkward fists at his sides.]

...Sorry, I guess I won't ask anymore.

[Maybe it had helped. Probably not. He was no good at this comforting thing. So now he just stood there in an awkward silence and tried to decide if it was a better idea to walk off or let Dave storm away from him, because he figured he was about the last person the Strider wanted to talk to right now.]

[Dave immediately regrets raising his voice at John. This is why he doesn't do the whole feelings thing. Volatile and how do properly feels?

In some way, he's technically gotten himself out of talking about the labyrinth, but the accomplishment is bitter in his mouth if it was making him unapproachable. John was his best friend. You're just a great friend right now, Dave. Yelling at your best friend who didn't know better like he should have known. Grade A material right here.]

I think I'm gonna get something to eat.

[It was so obviously a flimsy excuse to try and abscond. There's no food in the cafeteria since Jason was being a sore loser.]

...Dave if you're pissed at me, that's fine, but you don't have to run away.

I'm not mad at you. Holy shit, why would I even?

[He thought you were upset with him. Tbh.]

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