[That sure didn't feel like what his sister and Sam thought sometimes. Or the other Tier Fives. Or other Atypicals he had been used against. There had been more than one reason he had fallen into the bottle. And the meeting Helen again had only made it worse.
But he doesn't respond right away. He needs a drink and so he does what he's learned to do when he needs to drink. He gets up and starts preparing a cup of tea. Keeps his hands busy and gives him something to drink.
But he keeps the phone with him as he waits for the water to boil. Only for it to ring. He even sees Damien's name and hesitates before picking it up.]
Fair warning, I'm staying at Joanie's right now. She isn't home but she could come back soon. So you chill with me not using your name?
[He intends to start as soon as Mark picks up, but he fumbles a distracted sort of answer to that question instead.]
Uh- y-yeah. [Beat.] It's...fine.
[Beat. Two. Fuck.
His voice is soft, the way it always gets when he's trying to control how much emotion comes through it. He isn't doing a great job of that last part right now, though.]
Do you want me to stop? ...I'll be honest, I don't want to. I don't want to walk away from you again. I don't want to be alone again. But I don't wanna keep hurting you, either.
[It's the briefest of pauses before he just... sort of... keeps going.] You- you agreed to it, I thought it'd be okay, but- [There's a soft huff of fuck muttered, though not at all directed at Mark.] if this is fucking shit up for you more, just– just tell me... okay?
I...I want you to be okay, Mark... more than I want to do the selfish thing and keep you in my life...
[It's.... a lot.
It's a lot more than he's used to handing over to someone, which is why he just sort of barreled straight through the whole of it. If he didn't, he would have stopped and abandoned the whole thing.
Damien hates that it feels like he's just set himself up to lose him forever. But if that's what's right for Mark, isn't that what he should be doing?
[This is a lot of emotion going on, and Mark he's... quiet for a bit. Even has the kettle starts whistling. That has to get turned off.]
I wish I could give you an easy yes or no answer, Damien. I really do. I wish I had a fucking time machine, for legit, that could affect time, so I could go back and tell you not to kidnap me. But I can't. I don't know what to do with this. I don't know what is right at all.
[He sighs and just wants to collapse.]
The problem with my life is that I am always so unsure with you. What I want, what I need.
[He lets out a soft huff, shaking his head.] I don't... I don't know what to do with that.
[He's quiet again for a moment or two, trying to figure this out. He should just go. Hang up and delete his number and never call him again. But he doesn't want to, and Mark isn't sure and everything's a mess.]
...Why- why do you think you're not...a good person? I don't understand that. Like– on a fucking fundamental level, I do not understand how you can see yourself that way. People don't rally around to try and help and love and protect you when you're a dick, man...
[Does he want to talk about it? Hell no. His sister almost got murdered over that shit.]
The depths of 'do not want to talk about it' I have for this are rather impressive. Like standing on the top of the Willis tower and looking down and where you can see the ground before is the depth. This is big 'do not want' eneryg.
Okay... no, it's fine, Mark– you don't have to. Especially not with me.
[He sighs softly.] I'm not nearly religious enough for all that, man... I don't... that's not what this is. It's- I'm...
[The sound that escapes him just then is half a breath, half a nervous chuckle. Mmm. Nope. No. He is not saying that. It wouldn't help, and it wouldn't solve anything, and Mark wouldn't believe it anyway.]
It's... I-I don't know how to explain it.
[Not... without laying something at his feet that Mark doesn't need. Now. Maybe ever.]
You...don't have to do anything. It's- it's nothing you can fix. It's not on you to fix it, even if you could, Mark, I get that now... [He huffs softly.]
Too little, too late... story of my fuckin' life. [He mutters and sniffs and his voice is tighter, a little shaky, with his next words.]
I uhm... Fuck, I feel like I'm drowning. [He clears his throat, but it does nothing for the emotion still sitting thick on his tongue.] God- you don't need this, I-I should go before I say something really fucking stupid...
You know, that offer of yours about the sober buddy thing? Two-way street, man. I'll talk your ear off about whatever you want if you need a distraction or something sometime.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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But he doesn't respond right away. He needs a drink and so he does what he's learned to do when he needs to drink. He gets up and starts preparing a cup of tea. Keeps his hands busy and gives him something to drink.
But he keeps the phone with him as he waits for the water to boil. Only for it to ring. He even sees Damien's name and hesitates before picking it up.]
Fair warning, I'm staying at Joanie's right now. She isn't home but she could come back soon. So you chill with me not using your name?
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Uh- y-yeah. [Beat.] It's...fine.
[Beat.
Two.
Fuck.
His voice is soft, the way it always gets when he's trying to control how much emotion comes through it. He isn't doing a great job of that last part right now, though.]
Do you want me to stop? ...I'll be honest, I don't want to. I don't want to walk away from you again. I don't want to be alone again. But I don't wanna keep hurting you, either.
[It's the briefest of pauses before he just... sort of... keeps going.] You- you agreed to it, I thought it'd be okay, but- [There's a soft huff of fuck muttered, though not at all directed at Mark.] if this is fucking shit up for you more, just– just tell me... okay?
I...I want you to be okay, Mark... more than I want to do the selfish thing and keep you in my life...
[It's.... a lot.
It's a lot more than he's used to handing over to someone, which is why he just sort of barreled straight through the whole of it. If he didn't, he would have stopped and abandoned the whole thing.
Damien hates that it feels like he's just set himself up to lose him forever. But if that's what's right for Mark, isn't that what he should be doing?
Trying to be better, sucks.]
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I wish I could give you an easy yes or no answer, Damien. I really do. I wish I had a fucking time machine, for legit, that could affect time, so I could go back and tell you not to kidnap me. But I can't. I don't know what to do with this. I don't know what is right at all.
[He sighs and just wants to collapse.]
The problem with my life is that I am always so unsure with you. What I want, what I need.
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[He lets out a soft huff, shaking his head.] I don't... I don't know what to do with that.
[He's quiet again for a moment or two, trying to figure this out. He should just go. Hang up and delete his number and never call him again. But he doesn't want to, and Mark isn't sure and everything's a mess.]
...Why- why do you think you're not...a good person? I don't understand that. Like– on a fucking fundamental level, I do not understand how you can see yourself that way. People don't rally around to try and help and love and protect you when you're a dick, man...
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[Mark sighs and... How do you explain it when he tried so hard not to explain it?]
I told you a lot about my time at the AM. I didn't tell you everything. And I've seen since then how what I did affected others.
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[You can practically hear the shrug in his tone.]
...Do you wanna talk about it?
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The depths of 'do not want to talk about it' I have for this are rather impressive. Like standing on the top of the Willis tower and looking down and where you can see the ground before is the depth. This is big 'do not want' eneryg.
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[This is what he means. He's broken and he can't be better.]
I can't... have you seeing me as salvation.
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[He sighs softly.] I'm not nearly religious enough for all that, man... I don't... that's not what this is. It's- I'm...
[The sound that escapes him just then is half a breath, half a nervous chuckle. Mmm. Nope. No. He is not saying that. It wouldn't help, and it wouldn't solve anything, and Mark wouldn't believe it anyway.]
It's... I-I don't know how to explain it.
[Not... without laying something at his feet that Mark doesn't need. Now. Maybe ever.]
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[And hte answer, he knows, is that he can't.]
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Too little, too late... story of my fuckin' life. [He mutters and sniffs and his voice is tighter, a little shaky, with his next words.]
I uhm... Fuck, I feel like I'm drowning. [He clears his throat, but it does nothing for the emotion still sitting thick on his tongue.] God- you don't need this, I-I should go before I say something really fucking stupid...
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[Damn but this has been a lot to deal with, for them both. And yet... This voice. He... cares about it.]
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[He hates how soft his voice is with that question, but it fucking hurts. Everything fucking hurts.]
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Coffee's a vice too.
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Fine, see yourself as alcoholism. Guess I'm double down for that.
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[Clearly if he had a sober buddy and got on Damien about drinking.]
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