unpocoloco | Daybreak IC Inbox

[Hmmn. Maverick switches to watching him out of the corner of his vision with a frown.]

Yeah, you're really fucking look up to wandering around fucking town right now.

[His fault. Oops. Time to see how stupidly Héctor reacts to him pointing out the obvious.]

Pretty good. Made it through those books you got me already, since I had the time. They were good.

Huh? Oh.

[That's him looking down at his own hobble and realizing. Still, he waves a hand.]

Psh, no big deal. I used to have to run on this thing!

[Not that it was comfortable and he was also bones at the time but still.

His smile brightens and warms, looking more genuine.]

A fast reader. I'm glad you liked them though.

‘Course I did. They were fucking books, man.

[The smile is so much nicer... Despite his natural unease, Maverick relaxes a bit more when he sees it. He wants to pursue the leg issue, but... Mm. Maybe that would be another topic easier to pursue when he had alcohol to grease the conversational wheels.

Then again, this walk would be awkward enough without Héctor’s hobbling slowing it down and making it last for-fucking-ever.]

Want me to fix it? It ain’t like it’s a problem.

[He laughs at that. Of course, he did. He'll have to keep an eye out for more.

His laugh tapers off at the offer, bringing him back to awkwardness, albeit less than before. He shrugs.]

If it's troublesome to you. But you don't have to. I can probably get some fresh tape on it later.

[He wavers, wondering if he should even poke that elephant let alone address. Very subtlely, his breath goes through his teeth.]

I know I freaked you out back there. It's alright if you'd rather have space.

[Tape... He wants to have faith that it's modern athletic tape wrapping the injury in place like a regular person with an injury, but he's seen the skeleton beneath and the little ways Héctor had fixed things up to make do.]

Dumbass... [Getting dumber by the second.] You didn't do nothing. Far as stabbing me goes, anyway. Guess you opened the fucking door -- we're gonna get to that.

[Maverick's still on guard, but it isn't...him. Not really. He didn't trust Héctor any less than he had before all that went down if he spent any brainpower on it, it just that -- well. Being stabbed by anyone opens one up to feeling uneasy, and the nightmares that were to blame for the dark circles under his eyes weren't exactly helping him want to let his guard down.]

Come on. You're so fucking slow and I'm dragging your ass around, just gimme your hand...

[We're gonna get to that. His shoulders sag but he bobs his head.]

Okay.

[He turns over his free hand to Maverick.

And has to add:]

Sorry, again. About the stabbing.

[You owe him, Héctor!!!

He grunts vaguely in response, rolling his eyes as he takes up the older man's hand in his. Yeah, yeah... When he kisses Héctor's knuckles, his magic is quick to get to work strengthening the bone and temporarily relieving the pain, but if the bone isn't lined up correctly to begin with, the way it heals remains uneven and knobby. Even if it feels okay, that feeling wouldn't last, and it would be awkward to work with, probably still requiring the cane to support him. If it was set pretty correctly, though, he's all good!

So. Magic done. Maverick lets the hand drop and leans back onto his heels to get a little space again.]

Figure we're even, after I fucked up your knee even worse. After the drink, I mean.

[It is... probably not set the best. That bone always wanted to move. It's what made healing it even magically rather difficult.

But a little relief is still something. He sighs softly. That's definitely better.]

Better you alive than me with a knee intact. But don't worry, I'm not going to bail on your drink. Gracias.

Please... Like I'd let someone looking the way you do kill me?

[never mind he literally got charmed into staying there until the knife was already coming, shhh]

You all need to fucking relax. Bastard didn't even get me that bad! I'm all good now, would be even without fucking magic. The fucking boredom was more likely to kill me, the first couple days.

[He snorts. Even as terrible as that is, it makes him laugh.]

You were stabbed. Would you relax if our roles were reversed?

[Just saying. Though, stabbing him doesn't really do much so maybe the kid's got a point.]

But alright. I'll try and... somewhat let it go.

[Yeah, see,] You're dead. The fuck do you care?

I mean...gettin' stabbed's a bitch, but you'd be the same. You said you'd had worse, too, so...it's fine.

Still hurts.

[But, yeah, not much. Something Maverick touches on too.]

Fine is... a word for it I suppose.

[He frowns because Maverick has him cornered here. He can deny it and turn things on himself, or he can agree. And thing is...]

I worry anyway.

[He sighs, more defeated than annoyed.]

Guess I can't fucking do too much about that. Fucking annoying, though, even from Rover who made being lazy for a while fucking worth it. [so many kisses... it was great.] I got a fucking handle on it. Wish y'all would just trust me on that. Trust me on something, fucking damn.

[Rover? Right. The robot... who called Rex... yeah. His smile is bracing. He's happy Maverick. It's just... difficult.

But he's not expecting things to turn around like they do. His heart sinks.]

Ay, mijo, it's not that. I do trust you. A lot.

It's... life I don't trust I guess. I worry about everyone. But you, I trust you. I mean, dios, how much have I told you? How much have I counted on you? I don't think you've ever let me down.

[ugghhh this isn’t a Héctor-specific problem, but here he is making Héctor feel bad!!! Sucks. Communicating feelings is so tricky and just bad.]

Not...like that, I dunno. Ain’t like I don’t know you and Tía are the ones believing in me most after Mama. And of course you’ve told me some shit, but you’re still — you fucking treat me with kiddie gloves, and you’re all squirrelly but you’d rather fucking let yourself implode than bother me. So you don’t want me to worry — well, too fucking bad! Like you, I’m gonna worry anyway. Life is a fuck, et cetera!

[His mouth opens, closes, and then that motion repeats. He can't really argue with any of that and it leaves him to make a face. There's a long pause as he tries to untangle, well, his own head mostly.]

...That's... not a you... thing. That's a me thing.

[That's not a flaw he likes to admit. Mostly because he doesn't think it's a flaw. He doesn't like to bother people. He doesn't like to lay out his pieces when people already spend so much more time than they should having to pick them up.

He turns his frown skyward.]

I'm sorry. It's just... a lot. I feel like a lot. I already do this so much. Fall apart. And sometimes, there's certain things where, if I talk about it, it's going to ruin things. Not for me but for... whoever I'm talking to. Like I said, this isn't just at you. I don't- I'm not- Good at this.

[It's starting to sound like a Héctor thing, a Maverick thing, an Imelda thing...really, kind of a people thing! No wonder he's dating the robot that doesn't identify as a person, people fucking suck. This isn't news, but it's worth reiterating while he walks on and listens to Héctor giving him more not-news.]

Who fucking is?

[Probably the closest he'll get to admitting to being bad at it himself, as obvious as it was.]

I think you've fucking earned the right to fall apart. You're fucking bones held together by magic and willpower, both of which can be pretty fucking bullshit. It's just... I've made an ass of myself in front of you so many fucking times. It's fucking humiliating. Then I go and fall for some fake asshole using your face... It's like, I fucking swear I'm not this stupid, I can help if someone would fucking let me prove it.

[You know, that's fair.

And that is too. His gaze drops from that starry night down to the boy.]

I'm pretty sure we're mostly even for making an ass of ourselves. You're not stupid. But... I understand. Though I don't think being tricked by a magic possession daemon should really count against you.

How would you want to prove it? I don't think you have to, but I'm not sure what you'd want to do.

Meh.

[Héctor might think so, but Héctor thinks many dumb, incorrect things. Getting tricked by a daemon when he had always told himself to be so vigilant so his nightmares wouldn't come true... Awful. He's a disappointment to himself, which might not mean much, but it meant enough to his fragile esteem.]

I...fucking dunno. [He sighs, frustrated, and digs out his pack of cigarettes.] Never mind. It's fucking stupid. [Like a child whining to mommy to let him help with the chores hoping to make her smile. Kid probably wouldn't do a good enough job of it anyway, so...]

[He sighs quietly. He can't do anything when Maverick shuts down and shuts him out. He's very close to hitting that point for the whole of this conversation beyond just the topic.

And here Maverick told him not to use "kiddie gloves".]

It's not stupid. Please. Give me a chance? Let me try to do better with this. You have something on your mind, don't you?

[He's not an ideas person, he almost claims, despite his wild thoughts and clever endeavors. He's always done better when given a direction to focus his efforts on, so much that he had plenty of effort to spare for complaining and mocking along the way. It's what made him a popular part timer around town. It's what made him an appealing option for being a runner, back when his "friends" needed to make some quick cash. Give him a task and he'll do it, because even if he hates it, he's pathetic and craves that validation that might be waiting for him at the end.

Héctor has been offering validation to him free of charge all this time, and it's left Maverick antsy with the need to do something to earn it. But what do you give to someone that wants nothing from you but what you'd give them regardless?]

S'on my mind is that talking will be a hell of a lot easier once we're a few in. And...then we'll just talk. I guess.

[He eases immediately, slight smile coming back.]

Okay. I can work with that.

In that case, how about we just enjoy each other's company without worrying about any of that stuff until we get there.

[And hopefully, it shouldn't take too long. It's not as though they'll enjoy each other's company less when they really get going.]

[He bobs his head in a nod and lights his cigarette up, taking comfort in the smoke and the allowance for a moment of quiet. Just enough to get him centered again, push some of those straying thoughts back in order, ignore the little tickle annoying his chest that surely didn't mean anything...]

So I saw the Ace Attorney's keeping the damn thing as a pet now...?

[They have their moments of quiet together. They're nice enough moments, not better than talking but comfortable. He saves any comment about the cigarette as always and they make their way.

And Maverick throws him a curveball. The usual.]

Ace what? Wait hang on. [He holds up his free hand.] Attorney... Attorney... lawyer... lawyer with-- Avery! Avery. Atchison. Oh.

[His mouth presses.]

I'm not sure if calling them a pet is better or worse. But, yes, he's roped the daemon into a contract in exchange for sparing their life. A century long, I hear, but we'll be good and gone by then. He also made an exception that they have to listen to me, but, well, you know, that's kind of... uncomfortable.

Edited 2020-01-15 15:38 (UTC)

[Wow. Watching Héctor figure that one out is like going on a damn field trip. What a journey.]

Don't see why. Dickhead made you do shit, right? Fair's fair.

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