unpocoloco | Daybreak IC Inbox

[He feels cold, like his skin has been peeled away from him again and left him exposed. Fuck. He hadn't -- he hadn't meant to say that. He shouldn't have said that, like he shouldn't have said any of this. He shifts again, a slight nudge in the path to the door to block any attempt Héctor might make to put an end to all of this before he has a chance to get a handle on it again, but when Héctor moves, he moves to the bed.

He can breathe again. Just a little. Well, until Héctor lays out the consequences Maverick kept telling himself he knew all to well. Hearing it out loud sends icy spikes into his heart all over again.]

He's going to confess! He fucking said so! He wants to, he just -- he doesn't want to be locked up, or killed! Even if the fucking school lets him off the hook, if his dad finds out he -- if it was -- [YOU KNOW??? Mav doesn't really know. Everything has gotten so, so fucked up.] If... If he...

[He shudders, and he doesn't bother moving over to the bed before he falls into a sit.]

If he doesn't do it on his own, then I just let it happen. Nothing I did or said mattered. I won't...matter.

[He should move to the floor. But he needs a moment.]

...Maverick. How many times... You matter to me. You matter to Imelda. You matter to your Mamá. To your friends, so many people but... you can't count on people changing to be the reason you matter...! You don't need to prove yourself. The only one who doesn't believe that is you.

[He scrubs at his face with his hands and gets up. Just a short few steps and he can reach for the kid himself, draw him up to his feet, hopefully, draw him to the bed. Or if not, sit down there with him.]

I want you to think for a moment. Think about how you feel right now. About how badly you don't want to tell anyone. And think about how much harder that's going to be for Akechi. People nearly died. If that hasn't pushed him to say anything yet it's only going to keep pushing him to stay silent.

You're not going to just let it happen. Not so long as you say something. Do you understand? Stop waiting for him to prove that you're worthy. No one else can do that for you.

[His eyes drop. He takes a steadying breath. This... is a mess. It's ironic, almost, that he actually feels tired.]

He's not going to be killed. I can give you at least three reasons to guarantee that. He probably won't even be locked up. As for his Dad, once the faculty here knows what's going on, he is not going to be able do a thing here. And neither will any person he sends. But even a slim risk is better than a ticking clock where that guy wins.

[He shakes his head decisively — not because it isn’t true. He knows Ramona loves him, and after the dream he doesn’t doubt Héctor’s feelings, either. He denies the idea because it’s different. When he opens his mouth to protect and focuses back in, he’s met with the offer of the other man’s hands. He takes them in a daze, sits down in a daze, listens in a daze.]

But I...

[He’s not sure. He wants to say something, but it’s even harder when he knows he’s wrong.]

I wanted him to fucking... Can’t I try? One more time? I need to... I need to know he isn’t — I didn’t let him —

[Now, at last, he brings his arm around Maverick. He lets it rest behind his back, holding him steady. It's meant to comfort Maverick but he soon sees that it's not just that.

He angles himself then, bringing both arms around and hugging tight. That one... that one's for himself, his stern look falling away as he draws back.]

You want to know it was real. That he cared.

[He gets it. He doesn't have near the same nerve.]

I don't want you to get hurt. I want you to make sure, however you do this, you're safe. Okay? You promised me, mijo, and now you have to keep at that.

Stay safe. Make sure this gets out. Keep me in the know so I don't go crazy. Deal?

[He feels a rush of affection fo Héctor then, and if it were at all appropriate he might have grabbed his face and kissed him in gratitude. Instead, he settles for lifting his gaze to meet Héctor's, nods, and curses softly as he has to reach up and rub away a stray tear from his cheek. And he'd been doing so well...

But Héctor gets it, and of fucking course Héctor gets it, after their talks. One Ernesto is bad enough... Imagine there being another, an Ernesto that would go to such crude lengths to fool someone and who really would kill to get what he wanted. Haha.]

Y-yeah. I promise. God, if he fucking tries, I'm gonna kill him myself.

[He laughs a little, joyless and croaky, but it isn't much of a joke with how heavy and hollow his heart feels. To think he's gotten so rusty with his knife since coming to this school...]

If I don't think he's... [you know] You can gather a whole fucking mob, I don't -- I don't care. [He says, caringly, as he cares a lot.]

[~~He doesn't want to imagine.~~

He really isn't sure he does know. He's not sure of all too much at the moment.]

I'd really, really rather not have to do that.

[Along with the fact that Maverick cares a lot.]

Nobody has to die. Mind you, people are going to be angry. And all things considered, I can't blame them. Losing control like that is so much worse from the inside. And speaking from experience, trying to accept an apology from someone who has done something really terrible to you is... well, I couldn't do it. And that'll just have to be something Akechi accepts, whether or not there's a way to make things up.

You don't think I know that?

[He laughs again, and it comes out a little giddy this time even if he still can't feel any happiness at all.]

You don't think I'm fucking furious? You don't think I wanted to beat the shit outta him, after Toki? Fuck, if he wasn't so fucking pathetic --

[If Mav wasn't so fucking pathetic... But dimly, somewhere in his mind he registers Héctor saying he's speaking "from experience," and leans his head against his shoulder.]

I fucking hate this. Sorry I fucking -- just. Dragged you into it. After you went and calmed my panicking ass down back there and everything. Sorry.

[He lets Maverick rant. It's alright. It's only as the apologies start that he speaks up.]

Don't. I don't regret helping you out. And I'm really glad this wasn't just kept quiet for all that much longer.

[Because he's not sure this wouldn't have gotten worse.]

... It's a pretty shitty situation. I think you're more than allowed to hate it.

[Understatement. Fingers quaking, he moves to take Héctor's hand in his again. It's a small, stupid thing, but...it's what makes him feel closest to people.]

I don't know what I'm going to do. Not that that's...anything new, for me.

[His fingers curl around Maverick's and hold tight.]

You know what I think? I think people who say they know what they're doing are lying to themselves.

[He smiles just a little and leans to bump the boy's side.]

Do what you can. Just remember you can't make this perfect for everybody, so don't beat yourself up when all's said and done. You talk. One of you takes it to the faculty. After that's out of your hands.

[He nods before the works even sink it, but when they nod, he gives a slower, more minimal nod. Right. Out of his hands. After this, it's out of his hands. Even if he doesn't know what the fuck he all feels for Akechi, in this ugly mix of neediness, affection, and hatred, it wouldn't be something he had to deal with right away because Akechi wouldn't be his problem.

He shudders, and more tears fall now but he's breathing easier. His hand is in Héctor's, probably squeezing far too tight at the moment, and he feels grounded. Solid. Alive. He's not a skeleton and soon the stress of -- of almost five fucking months wasn't going to be just his and Akechi's problem anymore. God, that feels good.]

Jesus fucking christ.

[Aaaand he's sobbing while he laughs, and he wishes he wasn't because the laughing alone made him look like a fucking lunatic, but really, it's fine. Forget a drink, he owes Héctor a whole goddamn bar.]

[It's a very tight squeeze, one of those when the feeling is more in bone than flesh despite being the latter at the moment. But he doesn't let go or flinch.

The sobbing starts and he can't say he's surprised. He leans into the boy's side. He lets Maverick get it all out, opting for humming once again with enough time. And the he speaks soft.]

You're okay. Things will be okay. Or at least better than they were.

Y-yeah.

[He’s smiling — shakily, but still smiling — when he readjusts and looks at Héctor through wet eyes. God, he looks blurry. Tears are pretty bullshit, especially for being such a strong automatic response when he got overwhelmed. At least this time, he can say relief is in the mix, too.

As much as he hates the idea of Héctor pitying him, he can power through it with that swell of confidence and love. He wasn’t alone. He wasn’t suffocating under a problem alone.]

I’m f-fine. I can do this. I’m fucking good now, seriously.

[He smiles, fond, reaching over his free hand to run push back Maverick's hair. Then maybe help wipe at those tears a bit.]

Good. You're gonna do good too. Next time, come to me. Or literally anyone instead of bottling up. It'll save you the time feeling terrible about it.

But, how about for the rest of the night you take things easy? Unless there's something else we need to talk about.

[And finally, finally he feels like himself enough to draw back at the attempt to dry his face. Come on, he can do that himself, don't bring attention to it... Embarrassing. He pulls his sleeve over his palm and uses his forearm to try and make himself presentable again, looking away.]

D-dude. My brain is so fucking fried. You think I can remember if there's something else we fucking need to talk about?

[He laughs. He can't help it. It spills out in breathy snickers.]

Just making sure! Figure we can it out in one go!

Ay, but seriously, that was... I don't remember dreaming being so... adventurous? Vivid? Really intense.

Ain't you lucky, [he blandly says as a kneejerk reaction. Adventurous, maybe not, but vivid and intense? Oh yeah. Definitely. It wasn't something to envy, either, it straight up fucking sucked, at least in Mav's case. More importantly to him:]

You don't dream anymore...? I thought you sleep during the fucking day.

[He draws a hand back, pushing it through his hair as he laughs sheepishly. He knows how Maverick feels about... everything about this.]

Nnnnot exactly. When I said I don't get nightmares? That wasn't just me being lucky. Or not dreaming. I'm not here in the day, without pushing it. I'm pretty much just a body. No sleeping, no passing out, I'm on or I'm completely off. And, yknow, corpses don't dream. Or wake up if anyone calls them for that matter. Make sure to never list me as an emergency contact, on that note.

[He shudders a little, both a remainder of his emotions and a new chill from Héctor's words. Just...a corpse. Any old corpse, unaware and -- and rotting, right, he used to rot. In his shoes, his toes curl.]

Yeah, right. That'll fucking always be Mama, dumbass. Where, uh... Where do you...go?

[There's a laugh first. Then his eyes go down to the floor, hand rubbing at his neck.]

I, uh... I don't know. [He shakes his head.] I had beliefs before and I've talked to enough ghosts by now too that I don't really think there's nothing? But I've never seen anything or been anywhere. Not that I can remember anyway.

Kind of wonder sometimes if, maybe, since I managed to stick around in this sense that I've completely ruined any chance of anything else... [He's quiet, thinking of all too many painful thoughts. He shakes himself out, trying to pull back that cheer.] But hey, who knows! Either way, I've still got now. Makes it more like life, to enjoy it while it lasts.

[Wow, none of this is comforting. Thank you, Héctor.]

Right... Except you only get half the time and way fewer benefits. Hey, remember how like literally one fucking minute ago you told me not to bottle shit up because it'll save time feeling fucking awful about it? Thought you might've been onto something there.

[He opens his mouth, draws a breath, and points a finger up like he's going to argue. No words come out. His jaw works and then he slumps a little.]

... Do you really want to be dumped with an existential crisis after you just got everything else off your chest? And I mean... this isn't even something that affects anybody! [Until they die. And then find the afterlife devoid of him. He makes a face.] I'm dead, I died, there's downsides, I don't want to worry people. It's just what it is. You don't lose your wallet, get given some change and say, hey, this isn't my wallet. You just do what you can with the change. Even if you maybe miss the wallet.

[He shrugs weakly, and his voice borders on a mumble.]

I already have an existential crisis half the time anyway...

[his ptsd was fun like that sometimes. Before Daybreak, he'd gotten used to working up to as bets as he could get, but ever since coming to this place... He feels like he's slipping. Maybe motor-sledding down a steep mountain and crashing spectacularly against the base. Something. Who can say!!!

But...whatever. He sighs, makes one more pass at his face, then ducks around Héctor so that he can flop onto his back. Damn, there's good beds here.]

I dunno. Shit is shit. Feels unfair, like... You don't fucking deserve this. You want shit, you have dreams. You're...too fucking good.

[He frowns.] That's one of the least reassuring things you've ever said.

[But he can't say Maverick never says things that don't worry him. They get what they give it seems.

He waits a moment, considering, and then flops back too.]

I'm not that good. But thank you, I guess.

[He stares up at the ceiling, hands on his chest and legs hanging over the edge.]

Everybody dies. Nobody knows when it will happen. There's no guarantee and it's not owed to us. Twenty three might not seem like a lot but there are people out there who get even less. I... tell myself that. And I tell other people when they get upset. Like I've got some kind of otherworldly knowledge that makes me see it all clearer.

... I wanted more. I want more. Play for families I know, stay in town, sleep in my bed. Walk the streets without being afraid I'll be turned into a monster or be torn apart. I want to kiss my wife without being afraid of screwing up or... thinking how disgusting I look. I missed my little girl growing up. I'll miss my grandchildren if I ever have any. And I'll never grow old with Imelda. It's all just gone. Like that. The future was right there and the door slammed. When I actually sit down and think about it, not trying to make anyone else feel better either about this or something else, I want to scream.

[And scream, and scream.]

But it's my own fault. My fault I left. My fault I didn't go home sooner. My fault that I made family feel like I was the kind of guy who would just... leave. Heck, maybe the whole thing with Ernesto is my fault too, I don't know. All the stupid things I did or said, it's totally possible. There's nothing to scream at except me. I'm flighty and stupid and selfish, self-absorbed, don't even care sometimes, I'm not... good. And I'm scared. I don't want to disappear. And even if there's... still something after for me... even if I have somewhere to go while I wait for everyone else to live out their lives... I still don't want to die.

That... that's probably the majority of that whole mess. I think.

Edited 2019-09-24 19:52 (UTC)

[The idea that that wasn't reassuring is pretty laughable, but mostly because he doesn't really know when the fuck he's said something that actually is reassuring. He just speaks his mind and sometimes makes people want to punch him. It was a good distraction, but not particularly reassuring. People should go to someone else for that. Case in point, he doesn't have anything reassuring to say now as he listens to Héctor let his worries out.

Finally, when it seems he's done, Maverick pushes himself back up to a sitting position.]

I used to do that a lot. Felt good, dunno why I stopped. Just got older, I guess.

[Whatever that means... Did he even listen to all that? Because he's not really reacting, or so it would seem. He hops onto his feet and heads towards the door, gesturing Héctor over to him.]

Come on, let's go.

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belated cw: torture ment, suicide ideation ment.

torture mention

torture mention

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