[ There's a vague sense of relief that he doesn't have to rehash the abject fucking horror of what happened to the twins and who they became in the aftermath. He's painted Daisy's portrait onto his bedroom wall and again in the dream, not so long ago, and thinks people might have looked at her scars and guessed at the damage. But there's a difference between guessing and having to spell it out in his own words.
He breathes out. Flexes his fingers, watching the tattoos and scars shift. ]
It's way more difficult to hate someone when you start viewing them as a person and not just the enemy. And the anger is a shield, in a lot of ways. It's safer.
[ He taps a finger against Ephemera's temple, gently so it doesn't make the hurt worse but still punctuates his next statement. ]
But I think we've both already got headache enough without taking about the stages of grief. Lemme up and I'll get us some water.
Ephemera exhales slowly. Controls his breathing. Drake knows a whole lot about this shit. Possibly too much, after living through it once. Ephemera doesn't remember but he can imagine. Extrapolate based on the current information. Most people would have taken one look at this bullshit and bolted.
Drake didn't. He stayed. ]
All right.
[ He pushes himself into a sitting position, groaning. ]
Too bad, they'd make a fortune. Ugh... okay. Lie back down, I'll grab us something.
[ He's a little clumsy on his feet but makes it to the kitchen and searches for glasses -- they're not in the same cupboard they were in their apartment in Hadriel and that throws him for a second before he realizes they were probably there to start, or Angela chose what goes where. Drake shakes his head and regrets it, then grabs two glasses and fills them before checking a different cupboard, looking for anything bread-like. He finds crackers in the second cupboard and that's perfect... the box gets tucked under his arm as he makes his way back to set it all down on the coffee table. ]
[ Cool. Lying back down. Ephemera scrubs a hand over his face, digging the heel of his palm into his bad eye until strange mandalas of color bloom across his vision. That helps a bit.
He cracks his good eye when Drake returns with water and...ah. Crackers. ]
Not gonna puke.
[ Maybe. He feels slightly less confident about that after he pushes himself upright and reaches for the glass. But the water feels good on his throat, at least. ]
[ Ephemera closes his good eye, focusing on his breathing for a bit while he drinks. Ugg. This sure is going to be a fun morning. ]
Got a fight tonight. No shift at the bar, though.
[ Probably for the best. He's scared a couple customers away just by looking at them, and Ephemera's got a feeling it would just be worse with him fighting through a hangover. ]
You sure you're up for it? I guess you have to be, apartments here are expensive.
[ And he'd be paying for it alone now, since... well Angela not only moved out, but disappeared. Went back to where she was from, hopefully, like when people left Hadriel. Not recaptured by their kidnappers.
Maybe he shouldn't have hinted at her at all, though. ]
[ Ephemera doesn't say anything for a bit. Chews on a cracker and considers it a success when he doesn't immediately puke it back up. He will need to do something about the apartment, eventually. Move out, or find someone else to move in. The other bedroom has been sitting empty, exactly as Angela left it. Her things gathering dust.
It felt wrong to go in there. To touch any of it. So he hasn't. ]
I'll shake it off. No big deal.
[ He's fought through worse. ]
...fuck. Do you have to go somewhere?
[ He hadn't considered that part when he invited Drake over. ]
Back to the Safehouse for a shower and probably more sleep? If it's quiet enough there... I might be working tonight too, but I haven't built up any regular clients yet so maybe not.
It's called being a companion, which sounds sketchier than it is, I swear. It's for people in recovery... drugs, alcohol, that kind of thing. You're a support for them to maintain sobriety. The center's been assigning me cases while I get started here.
[ Ephemera eyes him for a moment, wondering if Drake's being serious. Apparently. ]
Huh. So that's a real thing.
[ That's good? Probably? Ephemera's known plenty of addicts over the years, though most of them were at least functional enough to get through missions. He doesn't know much about what goes into not being an addict, though. ]
Uh... new. But not so different so far from what I just did for people on my own, at least now I'm getting paid for it. I considered something closer to my comfort zone but fuck it. New universe, new job.
[ He shrugs, reaching for a cracker. ]
People shouldn't have to go through difficult shit alone, no matter what they've done. If somebody wants to be better, they deserve support. I didn't always think that way, but... it matters when someone believes in you. Y'know? I could've gone down a fucked up road myself if I hadn't gotten the help I did.
[ Ephemera considers that for a little, watching Drake. It hadn't occurred to him that was a job people might need and offer to pay for. Addition was just something that happened back home. A person was solid or they weren't, and that was a factor. You dealt with it. Cut them loose if that was what it took. ]
I guess?
[ He sounds doubtful, though, and isn't awake enough to hide it. ]
Sorry. You're probably good at it. We just. Didn't have anything like that back home.
I dunno if I'm good at it yet. [ He's just being honest now. ] I know I'm somebody people call when they're in trouble, though. When they need help with something. And I've been in vice for... too long.
[ Ephemera wonders if he counts as one of those people. He called, and Drake came even though it was the middle of the night. Maybe he should have called someone else. Trevor, maybe. Gotten them both drunk off their asses so it wouldn't matter. The dream. The painting he'd put up on the wall.
It did, though. And here they are. ]
It feels good to help people.
[ It's said a little wistfully. Ephemera gave that up a long time ago. It only ever hurt him. ]
[ Very, very gently, Drake bumps their shoulders. Careful not to jostle either of them so they feel sick, just. A little reminder of his physical presence. ]
But thank you. To keep trying is all I can do, right? If it means anything... the other you helped me a lot.
[ It feels like he ought to say more. Try to make it easier somehow, though Ephemera has no idea how he's even supposed to start that. They were close, he and Drake. Or at least that version of him was. There was trust there, the sort of thing Ephemera would have thought was beyond him. But there was a version of him that managed it, even if it was a universe away.
Breathe, Ephemera reminds himself. He touches his knuckles to his mouth, thinking. He wishes he knew the right things to say. ]
You can stay, if you want.
[ Ephemera twitches. Hopes he hasn't made it weird. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ There's a vague sense of relief that he doesn't have to rehash the abject fucking horror of what happened to the twins and who they became in the aftermath. He's painted Daisy's portrait onto his bedroom wall and again in the dream, not so long ago, and thinks people might have looked at her scars and guessed at the damage. But there's a difference between guessing and having to spell it out in his own words.
He breathes out. Flexes his fingers, watching the tattoos and scars shift. ]
I helped him. Or I tried to.
[ He twitches. Clenches his hand into a fist. ]
I don't want to know that about him.
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[ He taps a finger against Ephemera's temple, gently so it doesn't make the hurt worse but still punctuates his next statement. ]
But I think we've both already got headache enough without taking about the stages of grief. Lemme up and I'll get us some water.
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Ephemera exhales slowly. Controls his breathing. Drake knows a whole lot about this shit. Possibly too much, after living through it once. Ephemera doesn't remember but he can imagine. Extrapolate based on the current information. Most people would have taken one look at this bullshit and bolted.
Drake didn't. He stayed. ]
All right.
[ He pushes himself into a sitting position, groaning. ]
Ow, motherfucker.
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Ohhhh, moving sucks. Ow is right.
[ Deep breaths, he tells himself. Don't hurl, won't do any good now. Just get up and grab some water. ]
All this fancy tech, and they don't have hangover cures yet... wait, do they?
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[ Maybe he should look into it, with how he's been drinking lately. ]
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[ He's a little clumsy on his feet but makes it to the kitchen and searches for glasses -- they're not in the same cupboard they were in their apartment in Hadriel and that throws him for a second before he realizes they were probably there to start, or Angela chose what goes where. Drake shakes his head and regrets it, then grabs two glasses and fills them before checking a different cupboard, looking for anything bread-like. He finds crackers in the second cupboard and that's perfect... the box gets tucked under his arm as he makes his way back to set it all down on the coffee table. ]
Drink. And eat a few, to keep the water down.
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He cracks his good eye when Drake returns with water and...ah. Crackers. ]
Not gonna puke.
[ Maybe. He feels slightly less confident about that after he pushes himself upright and reaches for the glass. But the water feels good on his throat, at least. ]
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Then you hold your hangovers better than me, I'm taking it slow.
[ Another sip, his stomach churning crankily at it, and Drake turns to look at Ephemera. ]
What's on your agenda today?
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Got a fight tonight. No shift at the bar, though.
[ Probably for the best. He's scared a couple customers away just by looking at them, and Ephemera's got a feeling it would just be worse with him fighting through a hangover. ]
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[ And he'd be paying for it alone now, since... well Angela not only moved out, but disappeared. Went back to where she was from, hopefully, like when people left Hadriel. Not recaptured by their kidnappers.
Maybe he shouldn't have hinted at her at all, though. ]
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It felt wrong to go in there. To touch any of it. So he hasn't. ]
I'll shake it off. No big deal.
[ He's fought through worse. ]
...fuck. Do you have to go somewhere?
[ He hadn't considered that part when he invited Drake over. ]
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Back to the Safehouse for a shower and probably more sleep? If it's quiet enough there... I might be working tonight too, but I haven't built up any regular clients yet so maybe not.
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What kind of work?
[ Has Drake told him that? Possibly last night. He doesn't remember. ]
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Huh. So that's a real thing.
[ That's good? Probably? Ephemera's known plenty of addicts over the years, though most of them were at least functional enough to get through missions. He doesn't know much about what goes into not being an addict, though. ]
....what's that like?
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[ He shrugs, reaching for a cracker. ]
People shouldn't have to go through difficult shit alone, no matter what they've done. If somebody wants to be better, they deserve support. I didn't always think that way, but... it matters when someone believes in you. Y'know? I could've gone down a fucked up road myself if I hadn't gotten the help I did.
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I guess?
[ He sounds doubtful, though, and isn't awake enough to hide it. ]
Sorry. You're probably good at it. We just. Didn't have anything like that back home.
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I just wanna help people. No strings, no hiding.
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It did, though. And here they are. ]
It feels good to help people.
[ It's said a little wistfully. Ephemera gave that up a long time ago. It only ever hurt him. ]
I hope it works out for you.
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[ Very, very gently, Drake bumps their shoulders. Careful not to jostle either of them so they feel sick, just. A little reminder of his physical presence. ]
But thank you. To keep trying is all I can do, right? If it means anything... the other you helped me a lot.
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Nice. Grounding. He tries not to lean into it. ]
I did?
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[ He smiles, genuine but a little sad, and glances to the empty bottle on the table from last night with Ephemera's art on it. ]
At pretty much every turn.
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Ephemera is quiet for a long moment, just watching Drake. Not sure how he's supposed to react. ]
....I wish I remembered. I'm sorry.
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[ He finishes his water but doesn't move. ]
I think I'm on my way to being less dehydrated and out of your hair.
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Breathe, Ephemera reminds himself. He touches his knuckles to his mouth, thinking. He wishes he knew the right things to say. ]
You can stay, if you want.
[ Ephemera twitches. Hopes he hasn't made it weird. ]
It'll be quieter than the safehouse, anyway.
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