Voicemail (IC Contact Post) OLD - at capcha

[abrightboy]

 This is Bright. Leave a message.

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[bossyboiler]

[ She shakes her head. ] I don't know. All I know is that I got that text the day everyone woke up.

[abrightboy]

Yeah, well. [He looks down into his cup, wraps his hands around it.] That wasn't a day that I was feeling much up to lecturing anyone about anything.

[bossyboiler]

[ Kate reaches up and touches her throat. ] Yeah, well, no one could fault you for that even if it all felt very real. [ She can still feel Martin's hand around her throat, the way the coffee had smelled. She can still feel the knife. ]

[abrightboy]

I live it every night.

[bossyboiler]

I believe you. How do you cope with all of that?

[abrightboy]

‘Cope’ is a bit of a strong word for what I do. [It’s self deprecating and he distracts himself with a sip of his drink, but then he relents.] I survive until morning and then I let the sun come up and chase it away.

[bossyboiler]

Malcolm, that was just one dream I was in and it was one of the most terrifying things I have ever experienced. And that was just the one time. How do you deal with it everyday? The sun is not that powerful.

[abrightboy]

Monsters and the sun have one thing in common: they’re as powerful as you let them be. I choose to give the power to the sun.

[bossyboiler]

Your Father killed me and you just stood there. I know it's not your fault. It's not. You couldn't control it but if you believe that about the sun and monsters, why do you give him so much power?

[abrightboy]

[Malcolm studies her face for a moment.]

It doesn’t sound like you think it’s not my fault. [He shrugs his shoulder.] I can’t control what he does inside my head when I’m asleep. I can only control whether that crushes me when I wake up or whether I let the daylight wash it away. He wants me to break. He wants me to become him. I can’t allow that to happen.

[bossyboiler]

It's not your fault, Malcolm. And you're not your Father. [ It's really not his fault. Kate has her own trauma from the Dreamscape that she hasn't yet processed. Being killed had been terrible but the rest of the time she had been alone, oh so incredibly alone. ]

How many people did he kill in your dream?

[abrightboy]

[Malcolm takes a shaky breath.]

Too many. Like all of his victim counts.

[bossyboiler]

I'm so sorry, Malcolm. I really am. Do you want to talk about it?

[abrightboy]

[Malcolm gives her a wary side eye.]

All I do is talk about it.

[bossyboiler]

You are very open about it but I meant specifically about the dreams.

[abrightboy]

[He studies her from under his brow.]

There’s something you want to know. You can ask.

[bossyboiler]

I was trying to be supportive because that's a lot to have to live with.

[abrightboy]

I’ve been living with it since I was ten. [He watches her for a moment.] Are you sure you don’t want to know why I didn’t save you?

[bossyboiler]

You didn't because you couldn't. You must've felt just as powerless then as you were when you were a child.

[ She is assuming A LOT. ]

I would say that maybe you thought I deserved it but that would run contradictory to what I know about you.

action (cw mention of drugs/addiction)

[cacophonish]

After seeing Jack's post, reading a detailed recounting of a nightmare that still plays out some nights as he sleeps, Jeff kind of wants to cry.

Which is stupid. He shouldn't cry. He needs to stop being such a fucking baby. Instead, Jeff just kind of punches his pillow a few times (because anger's, like, manly and acceptable), but it's half-hearted and doesn't make him feel any better.

He checks his phone again. Tim's still leaving him on read, and he doesn't know if the guy's hurt or pissed at him or what. He should probably leave him alone and give him his space, instead of being clingy and annoying.

That resolution doesn't last too long. He's out of coke (apparently his dealer's dealing with supply chain issues or some bullshit), and he's not in the mood to drink, and he definitely doesn't want to go out and busk while the memories of getting stabbed to death out in public are so fresh on his mind.

So he puts on something clean and grabs the promised leftover stuffing from last night's escapades (haphazardly wrapped in foil), and heads on over to the ADI apartment complex, making a beeline for B1.

He looks utterly miserable as he knocks on the door. But if his eyes look a little red and his cheeks and nose look a little flushed, he'll just say it's because of the cold weather, and not because he's being a big emotional baby who might've had some sniffles somewhere between Point A and Point B. He's fine. He's an adult.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm is still sitting on the couch where Tim left him, staring at his phone, trying to decide whether he should reach out to Jeff or let him have space. He’s the one that caused the pain. Does he have the right to go looking to commiserate about it being dragged into the light?

He gets up and absently walks to the door, assuming Tim forgot his keys or something, but the world comes back into sudden focus as he sees Jeff standing there.

“Oh. Hi. Um…” He steps back. “Come in. I was… thinking about calling you.”

[cacophonish]

"Oh."

He's looking at Malcolm wide eyes, standing deer-in-headlight still. Though, really, why should he be surprised? It's Malcolm's apartment, too.

"Why?" he asks, all stupid and innocent, when he can guess why. But he hopes it's for some other reason than the post about their shared nightmare experience.

Jeff doesn't take Malcolm up on the invitation yet. He lingers at the doorway, looking into the apartment to see if Tim's there, or if he should just make up some excuse to bail and run away.

[abrightboy]

Oh, he’s not coming in.

He didn’t come to talk about this.

He didn’t expect to see Malcolm, according to his face.

“Look, I don’t know how that guy… he must have been one of the people on the street. But. He didn't have my permission to publish that story, just to be clear."

[cacophonish]

"Oh. Yeah, uh... yeah, I didn't think you..." Jeff shrugs, feigning like it's no big deal. "Don't worry about it."

He stands there for a moment, before deciding to step inside. "Are you okay, man?"

[abrightboy]

Malcolm shrugs and shuts the door behind Jeff.

“I’m always okay,” he says. “And also never okay. So.”

He takes a breath and steps over to put the kettle on.

“Want some tea or coffee?” he asks. “Tim’s not here, but he said he’d come back soon. I… don’t know if that’s true. I said something that upset him last night. He might be back at avoiding me.”