dancing after death

now take what i offer, straight up the nose, down the throat

it's a bearable bruise on your conscious

Rest, to him, includes sleeping. It includes the dullness of nothing to do other than stare at the ceiling until the exhaustion strikes, and suddenly its hours later when he wakes in a fit of surprise and shock, to feel the bed cold beside him, the quiet tapping of the wind outside as it brushes a branch along the siding of the home that they’d converted to the bar. It was lonely, exhausting, and at the end of the day far more than he wanted to deal with. Buts he asks him to humor her, and he roots to his spot further.

Steel eyes flicker up to her as his questions pelt her, his mind fogged and frustrated, mask placed along with thorns and edges, to get close is to bleed – an accurate description of what and how he feels right now. He clenches his jaw when she replies, turning his head from her, arms folding across his chest like a statue, a piece of stone, immoveable, impassible. “You should.” He replies gruffly, hoarsely. “After everything, everything that happened.” He shakes his head to her, turning back toward the bar to place his palms along it. “I told you before that to get close to me is to get hurt, so stop caring, stop hurting yourself, because you care about me.”

but don't it feel good? don't you feel calmer?

i am the way and the life in the best looking truth

phoebe Sleep and I shall soothe you, calm you, and annoint you "I rarely do things that I should. Just ask Frey." Phoebe said with a small smile, undeterred by his words. Why should she be? He was hurting, and when he hurt he pushed away. It was simply his nature, and no more than a grown man's version of a temper tantrum. She dealt enough with those to know how to handle them certainly. As he turned away though, she sighed, shaking her head. For all that he had pointed out how young she was, sometimes his behavior made her think he was lying about his age. Quietly she walked up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder once she was close enough. "You say that like I'm hurting." she pointed out, a small smile still on her lips, even though he could not see it. "You aren't hurting me. I wish you weren't hurting. I wish you were happy. I want to help you feel better, whatever form that takes. Perhaps, instead of telling me what I should and shouldn't do for my own benefit, you should trust that I know what I'm doing. I'm not as weak as I used to be." she said quietly.

now take what i offer, straight up the nose, down the throat

it's a bearable bruise on your conscious

Just ask Frey. Well, he finds that Frey is probably one of the last gods he wants to talk to while he feels this way, that sure — while he copes in a similar manner, it’s different. He wants to feel his feelings, deal with them, lose them for a few moments, rather than having a god's help with it. But he doesn’t comment on it, instead she nears closer and he bristles slightly at the hand she rests on his shoulder, stiffening again under her touch.

Her comment of hurt has him confused — because wasn’t she still hurting? Wasn’t that the entire reason they had agreed for space, because he’d been hurting her with his presence? With what he could offer her and what she couldn’t have? He still doesn’t trust it, doesn’t trust her in this moment, and he sighs as he reaches up to rub at his temple. “Perhaps I deserve it, Phoebe.” He rumbles to her, despite the things he’d told her, he hadn’t told her everything. And with it, the likelihood that he had things in his past that made it so he deserved the pain and hardships he received time and time again.

“You underestimate me, and the things I do to people.” He turns slightly to look down to her, a frown finding his lips, shadowed silver eyes scanning her face.

but don't it feel good? don't you feel calmer?

i am the way and the life in the best looking truth

phoebe Sleep and I shall soothe you, calm you, and annoint you Months had passed since she told him to stay away. And in those months, a lot had changed. Phoebe included. "You don't deserve it." she said simply, an air of finality in her voice. He didn't deserve it. He had hurt enough. He had lost the woman he loved twice now. And here he was, making it worse with a hangover. Why? Because he had done awful things? Somehow it was his fault? He would be hard pressed to convince Phoebe that he deserved his suffering. Her head tilted slightly at him as he spoke, as if trying to convince her of his own awfulness. "I don't underestimate you. I know you're no saint." she said softly, letting her hand drop. "But I know I'm not 'people' to you either." she said. He didn't love her. He didn't want her. But she was more to him than a random person. "Otherwise, you wouldn't try to warn me so much about things I already know and have chosen to accept."

now take what i offer, straight up the nose, down the throat

it's a bearable bruise on your conscious

He almost flinches when she tells him he doesn’t deserve it. If he didn’t, why does it keep happening? But he doesn’t know how to argue the point with her, so he lets it fall just as swift as her hand from his shoulder. She doesn’t underestimate him, but she’s asking him to hurt her again, and he doesn’t know if he wants to — if he can. He wants to wallow, to sink in his sorrows and let it consume him until there’s nothing left. But he doesn’t know where to start.

Instead his eyes shudder slightly as she mentions she’s not just ‘people’ to him. How he had cared once, cared deep enough to crawl to her blighted and confused, to let her help him ruin a reputation he had kept for so many years with the flame of Korofi. It’s that sudden realization that has him conceding a step, teeth gritting slightly against her words. “I don’t deserve it, you don’t want to see me hurting, you have chosen to accept that I’m no saint?” He repeats, gruffly, steel eyes scanning over her again.

“And yet you helped me ruin the reputation I had with her when we were blighted. Happily. Did I deserve it then? What makes this time different?” He asks, quietly, honestly.

but don't it feel good? don't you feel calmer?

i am the way and the life in the best looking truth

phoebe Sleep and I shall soothe you, calm you, and annoint you He throws the past in her face, seemingly without warning. And once, it would have made her crumble and falter. He would have won, right then and there. And he knew it certainly, or he wouldn't have tried. But Phoebe did not falter. She remained steadfast as her name, looking up at him warmly with wide honeyed eyes, his attempt at a strike glancing off her with ease. "A lot of things are different, but most importantly I am." she said simply. The way her life went, she did a lot of growing in a short period of time all too often. This was no different. Just as she did not fall apart with ease as she once did, she had long since let go of her anger.

now take what i offer, straight up the nose, down the throat

it's a bearable bruise on your conscious

It was an attempt, yes, an attempt to push her away again and watch her storm out again. Like she had done when Lusea arrived. But there was always something about them when it came to debates and arguments, that the both of them stayed until it was over, and he wonders if he regrets that part of him now as he watches her answer him, eyes shadowed and confusion bubbling within him.

She’d changed. And he had too. That was true.

“How can I trust you?” ’The things you’re telling me and that you won’t revert.’ “I had done it blighted, drunk, clearly not in my right headspace and you let me.” A brief pause. “And then told her about it, the exact words I had told you when you knew that I wouldn’t have done it otherwise.” His head throbs, but he watches her for her reaction. She knew him, she knew he wasn’t like that. And she had helped him do it so carelessly, with no apologies while he had to grovel and prove himself over and over again.

but don't it feel good? don't you feel calmer?

i am the way and the life in the best looking truth

phoebe Sleep and I shall soothe you, calm you, and annoint you She frowned slightly, but not in discouragement. No, this was remorse. But again she remained, even as he tried to hurt her with his words, none could get through. "I'm sorry about those things I did. It was cruel, even if it was because I was hurt and blighted still." she said, throwing in the last detail to remind him that just as out of his mind as he had been, so too had she. "If you want to hate me for it, I will go. But I hope we can both move passed something neither of us would have done under normal circumstances half a year ago." she said softly, watching his expression. What else can she say to it? What else was there to say? If he was going to hold her blighted self against her like Wessex did, there was nothing she could do.

now take what i offer, straight up the nose, down the throat

it's a bearable bruise on your conscious

Despite it all, the apology hits him harder than he expects. And he’s forced to look away from her while she continues on, a muscle clenching in his jaw at the way she can say it with such ease when it had made his life such a living hell. When it had possibly driven Lusea to seek a different place to live, a true new start. Because at the end of the day, he’s certain it rebounds back to him in one way or another. They always did.

“I don’t hate you.” He finally says, stepping away once more and shaking his head. “I want to move past it. But just like before, just like in Korofi, I was used.” He pauses, glancing back over to her. Used for an agenda of someone else’s, because he’d been weak. “And I… I just can’t be put in a situation like that again and again.” Stronger. He needed to be stronger.

but don't it feel good? don't you feel calmer?

i am the way and the life in the best looking truth

phoebe Sleep and I shall soothe you, calm you, and annoint you Phoebe sighed a bit wearily, but she didn't shrink away, even as he teetered back and forth, not coming to any discernible conclusion. Once upon a time, she would have sat and talked him through it. But that time was no more. She had boys off playing with a neighbor so she could be here to help him pull himself together. She simply didn't have the time to wait around for Jata to make up his ever changing mind, hem hawing over every little thing to the nth degree, as if it would somehow make it all go away if he waited long enough. But it wouldn't. It just prolonged suffering. "So long as you have people in your life, you will always be used to some extent. What's important is to find those that are mutually beneficial." she said softly. "I'm not the person I was then. Hold it against me if you will, and if it is the case I will go. I have three boys waiting on me. But I chose to come here to help you regardless as soon as I saw that sign." she said, watching him closely. Not mock. Not use. Help.

now take what i offer, straight up the nose, down the throat

it's a bearable bruise on your conscious

He prefers the prolonged suffering, if he’s being honest. If he had a choice, he’d let it writhe and consume. But he doesn’t, and instead he stands there, telling her the ways that he’s hurting, omitting his coping methods for fear of her offering herself, unsure how it could end in any way that was beneficial. But he has to ask, because she does have boys waiting on her, that she shouldn’t be here worrying over him, trying to help him when in the end it’d probably not help either of them.

She says she’s there to help him, that she’d arrived when she’d seen the sign, and he finally turns to her fully, arms still folded across his chest. “Alright. How can you help me?” He asks her, head tilting as he watches her. “You don’t know how I cope, aside from preventing part of it.” He says, referring to her telling him he should stop drinking, should lay down. “So how can you benefit me?” Because gods knew he had nothing to offer her.

but don't it feel good? don't you feel calmer?

i am the way and the life in the best looking truth

phoebe Sleep and I shall soothe you, calm you, and annoint you She had been afraid of this, afraid of his stubbornness for the sake of stubbornness getting in the way of healing. And unfortunately there was nothing to be done about it. "If that is the attitude you're going to take then no one can help you, not even yourself." she said with a sigh, shaking her head a bit. "I brought you food and medicine." she said, gesturing to the basket on the bar. "I've offered to take care of you for a few hours. My door is always open to you as well should you not wish to be alone. And you have thrown it all back at me, it isn't good enough. So what do you want, besides all the destructive things you reach for first? I won't help you tear yourself apart, but I will help you get back on your feet."

now take what i offer, straight up the nose, down the throat

it's a bearable bruise on your conscious

He finds he doesn’t particularly want anyone to help him. He doesn’t want to help himself. He wants to go and go until he inevitably burns out, crashes, leaving nothing else behind. That is how he copes, and she can’t see it. Despite her sigh, he nods once in response, because she’s right. And that’s exactly why he’s doing it.

But it seems he’s struck some sort of nerve, as she goes off to explain all the things he doesn’t want. Still, he snorts and shakes his head as she tells him he’s thrown it back at her. He has. One hundred percent. “That's exactly what I want.” He replies, briefly, before he trudges on. “To be helplessly destructive, to burn and burn until there’s nothing left. But I can’t do that with your help. Because you care.” Shadowed steel eyes still narrow. “You care enough to want to dote and to help, and I get it, because you were raised to do that, you’ve chosen to do it by being a midwife. But that won’t work for me. Perhaps once, yes, it would have. But we are not the same as we were.” Using her words from earlier, he waits to see if she leaves or if she’ll remain.

They both are incredibly stubborn, after all.

but don't it feel good? don't you feel calmer?

i am the way and the life in the best looking truth

phoebe Sleep and I shall soothe you, calm you, and annoint you He could be so aggravating. In moments like this she wished she did not care, because it would be far simpler to walk out the door and never return. But what sort of hypocrite would that make her? How many times had Frey gone to lengths that were not simple for them simply to help her? It wouldn't be right. It wasn't who she was. But oh, he did make it oh so tempting. "Crash and burn and then what, Jata?" she said with a sigh, raising a brow at him. "It's one thing to mourn, but it is something else to purposefully destroy yourself. You've spent your entire life fighting to survive and now what, you're going to let yourself fall to pieces over a girl? Just like I used to fall to pieces over men leaving me?" she said, wrinkling her nose. "That was the weak thing to do, wasn't it? That's what you want now? To throw it all away and give in to the fact that life is unfair and sad?" Though her words were pointed her voice was calm, questioning. He was doing now everything he had always pretended he wasn't. It was weak. It was careless. It was everything she had been and everything he had held against her.