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text ↪ un: weaverville
Hey so
I've been screwing around with the network connecting the communications devices a little. I know there's no Spotify here, no internet, not a lot of music, which sucks. My MP3 player came here with me, so I figured maybe some people might like to have at least a few options. It might not necessarily be to everyone's taste, but it's better than nothing (probably).
I've uploaded the contents to the database, you should be able to access it or send/receive songs at any time.
Turns out they already had some music on there too, so you can poke around theirs and see if you find something you like more. I haven't gotten to go through it all, but at least some of it looks like 21st century Earth stuff.
Sidenote: you're welcome to criticize the contents of my MP3 player, just know that I've never felt shame in my life & I can and will sing all of these karaoke style to your face. IDK if you really want to live through that experience.
( feel free to threadjack as you like )
I've been screwing around with the network connecting the communications devices a little. I know there's no Spotify here, no internet, not a lot of music, which sucks. My MP3 player came here with me, so I figured maybe some people might like to have at least a few options. It might not necessarily be to everyone's taste, but it's better than nothing (probably).
I've uploaded the contents to the database, you should be able to access it or send/receive songs at any time.
Turns out they already had some music on there too, so you can poke around theirs and see if you find something you like more. I haven't gotten to go through it all, but at least some of it looks like 21st century Earth stuff.
Sidenote: you're welcome to criticize the contents of my MP3 player, just know that I've never felt shame in my life & I can and will sing all of these karaoke style to your face. IDK if you really want to live through that experience.
( feel free to threadjack as you like )
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Damn it.
A year and a half of just trying to make it to the next day, and then getting fucking beat to death. )
To be honest, man, it's really fucking impressive that you've been thriving as well as you have been. A lot of people would break down over something that heavy. I get why you'd wanna shove it down so hard, it's gonna be something you can't really work through in a day, or a month, or like a year. And unless another guy with a doctorate or three shows up, you're kind of stuck professionally advising yourself, which even I know is a terrible idea.
( Ian wasn't an abused child. He may have been a pretty severe case of the 80s-90s latch-key phase, he may have had a pretty impactful feeling of neglect, but he can't even begin to imagine what it was like for Lance.
What he can relate to uncomfortably excessively is the dread and trauma of reverting back to a struggle every day just to survive mindset. He can feel that one down to the bone. )
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As much as the situation is frustrating in how little can be done, it's just incredibly reassuring to hear Ian put into words the things that Lance knows but second-guesses himself on; that all of this is so much to be dealing with, that the process isn't an easy or quick one, and that he's in the position of being his own best bet in terms of professional help. Hearing it from someone else makes it feel less like something that he's somehow wrong for still struggling with, even though he logically knew that already, and more like he's just been dealing with it the best he can be. Even if that 'best' is not great.
He's silent a few more seconds after Ian finishes, going over things in his head, then he sighs and leaves his glass alone before finally making eye contact.]
But I'm so good at following my own advice.
[It's a weak joke, but that's fine; it's just meant to be a way to acknowledge he's heard what Ian said and appreciates it, before getting serious again.]
Thanks. I just... Hadriel was bad enough, but I thought it was the end of it. Somehow it had all worked out, we'd done what we were supposed to do, and I was going to a friend's world to live there. But then I woke up in New Amsterdam instead, and it just started all over, and now...
[And now they're here, and it feels endless, like there's nothing past this. Like his life's gone full circle and it was just an illusion that he'd ever gotten out.
Still, he takes a deep breath and draws himself out of those thoughts, managing the faintest hint of what's hopefully a reassuring smile.]
I think it's just going to be a really bad transition period, but I'll figure it out.
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He swallows down a mouthful or two while Lance talks. Takes to thumbing the edge of the cup once he sets it back down again, fiddling mindlessly with his chest going blue, flexing the shape of the rim the way some people might fold up napkins or scribble loops. )
So... if you were treating a patient going through what you're going through, what would your long-term treatment plan look like?
( AKA he's ignoring that I'm gonna be fine lame ending to the conversation. )
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But just having a normal conversation, and being validated but not pitied, is already a huge help because this means he doesn't have to hide so much. If he's having a particularly bad day, he won't have to struggle to get that across while at the same time pretending it's not that bad and he's got it under control because otherwise he'd have to get into what the actual issue is. He'll be able to talk about why some things that happen affect him in a way they don't others, or why his mood might flip suddenly at something he's picked up that meant nothing to anyone else. He won't have to spend so much energy keeping up a front that's just gotten harder and harder to maintain, especially because it prevents him from daring to reach out for the support he needs to actually get through all of this.
So sure, maybe Ian can't exactly fix this, but he's already doing a lot more than he thinks. The question is something Lance has thought about but typically brushes off in his own mind, because the answer is difficult, but having to actually put together words to respond means he can't just do that and that's a good thing. Being able to just bounce ideas off someone else might seem small, but it goes a long way.]
Unfortunately, the first priority would be getting into a better situation and environment, so that issues can be dealt with safely and without the risk of just compounding them further.
[Which is unfortunate because it isn't an option, and that not only throws out pretty much everything he'd normally advise someone about but runs a huge risk of things getting worse. Piling traumatic events on top of each other is dangerous, and so are the effects of being in these sorts of situations long-term.
But he's spent years now telling himself that he'll deal with it when the situation is better, and it never has been. So he's going to just have to work with what he's got, and so is everyone else who's struggling with their own issues.
Although he's allowing the focus to remain on himself right now, he's still very aware Ian is dealing with a lot too, so as he continues this can apply to both of them.]
But aside from that, the next step is identifying the parts of the problem. What exactly is causing stress, why it's causing it, what emotions are brought up and how they're connected to each other and things that have happened. What needs to be addressed and worked through.
[He's been pretty good at this part, so at least there's that.]
After that, it's allowing yourself to feel whatever it is you feel, and giving yourself the time to feel that way. That's how you start processing what happened, and then accepting it and moving past it.
[And this is where it stalls again, for him. In a place like this--or in New Amsterdam, or Hadriel--the time and energy needed to work through things in this way not only feel but often are impossible to attain, and that's without the issue of it seeming like a waste when you're in a fight against the clock. Any of them could disappear at any moment, if this place is anything like the others, and if that happens before they solve a way to control it, then it won't matter how much progress he's made with his issues because he'll just be dead.]
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He sways in a kind of one-shouldered shrug. )
Well, stop me if I'm crossing the line here, and if I am I'm sorry, but... Letting yourself take time to feel what you're feeling hasn't really been... A thing. If you're waiting for perfect conditions, you're never gonna find them.
( Not here, not in New Amsterdam, not if they get bounced to another new place and he has to transition all over again. Obviously not if he gets sent back to his death. )
If you want... I don't know, maybe we can like. Do a thing, officially, every week or two, where we hang out and you vicariously therapize yourself while I soundboard you or something. If that's like a way too deep huge overstep and we're not on that level, you gotta tell me, because I have... No fucking context on what normal... Friendship... Boundary... Timeline things are. No offense taken, I swear.
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Neither do I.
[He knows conceptually what those sorts of things are, and it's not like he doesn't have friends or anything--here or back home--but to say any of his friendships have been normal would be a stretch. He does a whole lot more guessing about relationships of any sort than he lets on.
As for the idea itself, he doesn't have any problem with it, but he's also still a little hesitant. Not because of the issue of talking--now that they've had this conversation, there's only one more major thing he hasn't brought up--but just because he knows himself, and knows how he feels when he lets himself do so. He's a little scared to actually allow that, and then have to just turn it back off in order to keep getting by here.
But that's part of the idea of telling people he trusts, like Ian and Nate, about this. If it gets really bad, they'll be there to help, and he believes they actually will.
So after another few seconds he nods, dragging his gaze away from the table where it had ended up again back to making eye contact.]
Okay. Yeah, we can try it, but with a caveat: it goes both ways.
[These are gonna be sharing sessions for both of them.]
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At least neither of them knows what the fuck they're doing, and it isn't just Ian being socially dumb. )
I feel like every time we talk it's just me playing myself.
( Shooting his own damn self in the foot even though he knows Lance well enough by now he should just expect it. This is their arrangement. He just... Usually doesn't think about himself first. It seems less important than helping Lance navigate his own stuff.
It's fine. He's just going to block the whole concept out until he's actually forced to do it, and he'll... Figure out how to navigate then. He can't imagine a scenario where he isn't locked down under full control of his outward expressions of feeling. It'll be fine. )
Alright. Deal. Standing Tuesday appointment, I'll pencil you in. Have my secretary call your secretary.
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If it makes you feel any better, playing yourself means you're saving me the trouble.
[But he's glad Ian's agreed, both because he knows Ian has a lot he should talk about himself and because that means the focus won't be on Lance all the time. Win win.
But speaking of talking, he hesitates a moment as he realizes something else.]
Should I um, save the other big depressing reveal for then, or just get it all on the table now?
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He gives a gracious little hand gesture; the floor is yours, man. )
Get it out there, that's what we're here for, right? No time like the present.
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It's also the issue he's made the most progress in handling, but it's one of those things that there's only so much that can be done. There's always going to be a sense of loss here, but he's made as much peace with it as he thinks he could possibly achieve.
So he pulls his phone from his pocket, taking a moment to flip through images until he finds the one he wants. After they'd done the file transfer, and he'd had a few hours to wait for Ian to meet up with him, he'd managed to will himself to look through the images on his phone and so it's not the first time in months that he's seen it; still, he doesn't want to linger too long, because the emotion is always there.
He hands the phone over to Ian, and when Ian takes it, the image will be a picture of Daisy holding a baby; Daisy is smiling proudly at the camera, looking tired as most new mothers do but happy all the same, and the infant is staring up at her from her arms.]
I think I've mentioned my girlfriend, Daisy, to you before.
[But he's not totally sure, and either way Ian wouldn't know what she looks like. When he continues, his voice is quiet and a little distant, because it has to be for him to talk about this.]
That's her, and um, my son. She was pregnant when I died, so I never met him. A friend of mine from home who showed up in Hadriel was from a point in time ahead of me, so she had this picture, so...
[So yeah. There's not much more to say about this; it's something he can't change, and the consolation he has is that Brennan had assured him that Daisy and the baby were okay. That everyone loved them both and would take care of them, and that he didn't have to worry.]
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Lance hands the phone over, and there's a fucking baby on the screen. He is, for the first time during their talks, speechless.
He couldn't have known, obviously, but all the same for some reason he still feels like an asshole for not... somehow knowing along the way. It feels strange and unacceptable that he's known Lance for as long as he has without having even the first clue Lance has been carrying this on his shoulders the entire time.
His second thought is a little more selfish, in that it... isn't of Lance, but rather the kid. He grew up without a father. Never saw the man once, never even knew his name. He felt that ache all the way up until he learned how to repress his feelings in his pre-teen years, and while it isn't something that actively impacts him now — consciously, at least — he still feels a little cheated when he thinks about it. He hurts for that kid.
Spends a couple seconds too long, maybe, looking at the picture before he finally slides the phone back across the table.
It's not as simple to answer as the previous problem, for some reason. It's different in a way he can't name. It means there's a longer, quiet pause between the realization and his response. )
I'm sorry.
( First and foremost. He really is, in a way that isn't exactly pity. He'd like to tell himself it's empathy, though whether or not there's a difference in Lance's eyes isn't up to him. But he does have a consolation to offer, even if it's weak and it doesn't really accomplish anything; )
You know he's gonna grow up knowing your name, right? He'll see pictures of you. He'll hear stories. He's gonna know who you are and what you're like, and that... matters a lot more than you'd think.
( But it doesn't help the fact that Lance will probably never know the same things in turn. )
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Though he is aware of how he responds, and how what he says feels like it comes from a personal place, even if Lance doesn't pursue that thought for now. What the others might tell his son about about him isn't something Lance had thought much about, and so Ian's words are comforting and he allows himself a moment to think about them. To think about the kind of things Daisy would share, that Booth would, that Angela would, and to give a small laugh and shake his head.]
I hope he doesn't hear too many stories.
[He says it with a hint of a smile, because there are so many stories that would make a kid sigh in embarrassment over what a dork their dad was, but of course he doesn't actually mean it. The idea of not being forgotten isn't one that he's put much thought into either way, but it's a comfort to think about his son knowing who he was. They both deserve that much, at least.
And more than that--]
But... Yeah. And he's never going to... He's never going to have to worry about being alone.
[Or about going through something like Lance did. Even if, in some awful tragedy, something happened to Daisy, there would still be an entire list of people ready and willing to take him and love him as their own. It's some comfort to Lance that his son will grow up incredibly loved, even if he'll never have a chance to meet his father.
And that makes it something he can accept, no matter how much it hurts.
So he takes another deep breath and a brief glance at the picture once again, before hiding his phone away in his pocket once more. It's hard to say if he feels better, for having talked about all of this, but he does feel like he could feel better and that's valuable in itself. And there's also a great sense of relief in not having to hide this--any of it--anymore.
He's quiet another few moments before managing a bit more of a smile, fixing Ian with a look that says he's about to make a stupid comment that's partially deflection and partially honest, and soon follows up with--]
I hope all of this has given you some insight into why I'm a neurotic mess who constantly makes enemies of self-appointed authority figures.
no subject
Probably not in those exact words, but still.
Lance's kid will most likely live a happy life, he's going to feel supported throughout it, and that's the only real positive that Ian knows to highlight in this situation. The rest of it... fucking sucks.
He offers up a small, tight-lipped smile. It seems a little sad, maybe a little fond, and pretty genuine. )
I just thought you were really into punk rock anarchy. I guess it was the shoes that threw me.
( Because, you know, light-up sneakers are the embodiment of the punk movement. Obviously. Everybody knows that. )
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[He offers the comment almost instantly but with a totally straight face, so he'll just let Ian take a guess on whether he's being truthful or sarcastic.
But he goes more serious again a moment later, even if not as gravely so as he has been, just genuine as he says--]
Thanks. For listening to... All of that.
[One depressing story after another, when they're already in a bad situation to begin with, is not that easiest thing to handle. It's difficult to know how to respond, or what to do, or how to sort through emotions brought up by knowing what a friend has been through, and he really appreciates that Ian cared to take all of that on.]
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Instant squint. Discerning look. He can't fucking tell. You know what, he's not gonna risk getting punked out for falling for something, he's just gonna let that go unremarked upon for now.
For. Now.
Instead, he reaches over carefully to curl a hand around Lance's shoulder. He's never come across as a touchy guy, but then again he's never come across as a guy with a fucking son he'll never meet either. He keeps it brief, but for him and for Nate physical contact is a need they often don't know how to ask for. Might be better to give it, just in case.
It falls away again after a second to curl back around his cup. )
You're welcome. Thanks for sharing it.
( It's lightly returned, a casual and faintly bouncing response that might seem automatic, but he does actually mean it.
That was a lot of really personal stuff. He knows how difficult it is to put stuff like that out there. It also helps him, in a way. He worked himself just as hard back home as he's doing here, except the difference is he didn't have anybody. He'd work, and then he'd drink with the handful of other adults that ritualistically met at night under dying firelight, and he'd probably wind up taking some other sad person to his cabin to fuck so they could feel a little less alone for the night. They'd leave, and he'd wake up the next morning and just... do it all over again. Every day.
Something like this is a marked difference. It helps him keep these two lives distinct and separate, so he doesn't completely fade back into the mindset he'd been in back there. )
no subject
So he offers another small smile in return, breathing out and letting some tension he's been holding this whole conversation fade, though he suddenly realizes he should add--]
Oh, um, by the way, Nate knows all of this. So you don't have to worry about accidentally saying something, or coming up with an excuse for our future scheduled therapy sessions.
[...Which they should maybe drag Nate into, honestly.]
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Aside from, you know, his own emotions and struggles. That's totally irrelevant and you don't have to verify that with anybody else thank you goodnight.
His expression shifts from a peaceful relief to a slow realization, and then to a small wince. )
That's... really good, I'm glad. He doesn't... actually know about the whole... hobbit apartment thing I'm working on, though, so if you could... hold off on talking about that for a little bit.
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Um, sure, of course, but is there some specific reason he doesn't know?
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I was gonna try and say I want it to be a surprise, but you just went full honesty and now I morally can't bullshit you for at least, like, an hour and a half.
( Strangely, probably an accurate time estimate depending on how long they sit here and how much he drinks. Post-conversation he's within his legal rights to close up shop again.
Right now, though...
He takes maybe another three or for seconds to hedge, making breathy-clicky-whistley stalling noises through his teeth. )
Honestly, it's because I'm freaking myself out even thinking about... the concept of having an actual... conversation about it.
( It, a completely unspecified it like he's too big of a baby to actually say moving in together. )
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Although his eventual response is definitely vague, it only takes a moment to figure out what 'it' is and why Ian is suddenly so nervous, and Lance absolutely can't judge. He considers mentioning why, just because it might make Ian feel less self-conscious about it to know that Lance gets it, but decides to save that for now and try to help more directly.]
What part of it is freaking you out the most?
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Um... all of it.
( Every time the thought has come creeping up, the first trickling anxiety hang-ups flair and he sweeps them abruptly and swiftly away. Don't think about it. He knows just on instinct what his brain's going to trip and fall over, but he hasn't... let himself think about it too deeply, let alone say it. Here it goes, the cork's popped. )
I'm just thinking, you know— is it too soon? Is being in the situation we're in and the circumstances we're dealing with making me think about doing this too fast? Like, am I rushing things along before they're naturally ready because it feels like the best possibility for us to have like the slightest semblance of privacy and a place to... get the fuck away from everyone for a while? Is it unhealthy? And even if it's not, is he gonna think it is? Or is he gonna think I'm only doing this because I feel obligated to? And then there's the whole... what if he only says yes because he feels obligated, and whether he does or not I know I'm gonna be wondering it no matter what, and that's gonna suck for him to have to deal with, which might ultimately be what makes him wind up regretting it. And if he says no that conversation's gonna be real fucking awkward, and I'm gonna look like an idiot because I really don't have a good contextual understanding of relationship timelines and milestones. That just seems like the gateway to a domino effect of inevitably ruining the whole fucking thing. And I'm also still hung up on... should I make two bedrooms or three? Is it presumptuous to just make two? Is it sending the signal that I don't want to... share, if I make three? I can't even think about talking about it for more than two minutes in my own fucking head, there's no way I'd do a good job trying to explain that I want to but I don't need to and it won't offend me if he doesn't want to. And then after that, what if things do fuck up and then he just feels... stuck in this really awkward living situation, or what if I do the same shit I always do and freak out and then try to bail out of the whole thing, but I actually can't because that's where I live.
( Ian doesn't speak quickly, not in the normal way people tend to ramble in huge chunks about their anxieties. He just speaks continuously, with no real pause at the ends of sentences so they kind of blur together in one long stream of consciousness.
All the while, still somehow sounding insanely calm despite the absolute contradiction he paints with his words.
In summation: )
So I guess just pretty much... that.
no subject
What helps, though, is that this is completely relatable and he very much gets it.]
Okay, so like, the normal stuff then.
[He says it lightly, but not flippantly; he means it, especially the 'normal' part. As calm as Ian sounds, that is not the rambling of someone who's calm, and assuring him this sort of anxiety and these sorts of problems are a natural part of things seems important.]
I'm going to be honest here in that I'm the worst person to give advice on this subject, because everything you just said sounds like something I've thought about myself, but it might be best to just... Ask him. Not 'hey do you want to move in with me', but more like, 'I was thinking about building a secret apartment, do you want in on that?'
[Something casual, an idea more than a plan, something Nate can give input on without any real weight behind it. Then the number of rooms, the issue of moving to fast, all of that can come later with Nate's input.
He can't say anything about the risk of something going wrong and being stuck in an awkward situation, or about freaking out and wanting to bail but not being able to, because those are things that might happen. But they're always going to be there as possibilities, so the best thing to do is to try to prevent them, but not let them prevent trying.]
no subject
A couple of days ago, he'd been talking to Alex the animal guy about how nice it would be to have an electron microscope. His mind immediately went to I wonder if I could make one, and Alex gently, kindly suggested they could probably just ask the scientists from the super advanced space ship. It's a fantastic example of how Ian's brain sometimes skips over the easiest or most obvious answer.
The way Lance pitched it sounded really fucking easy. He takes a few seconds to turn it over, automatically searching for reasons why he shouldn't and coming up empty.
Finally, he lets out a short, thoughtful: )
Huh.
( Wellp. Guess who feels like a moron. Surely his brain will have the opportunity to poke holes in this after a little while, particularly once fully sober, but for right now that suggestion sounds unbelievably viable. )
no subject
I'm going to get a drink. I'll be right back.
[He gives Ian a quick pat on the shoulder as he passes by, going to finally get himself some of the horrible, awful alcohol now that he's past having to put difficult things into words. A few minutes later he returns, setting his glass down carefully and then taking his seat.]
So, aside from terrifying relationship milestones, what else have you been worrying about?
no subject
Virtually non-existent, he knows, and so takes the opportunity to put a nice dent into his drink while Lance is gone.
He also spends that time trying to run through a few conversations in his head, trying to play them out so he knows which conversational path will be the easiest.
This opening question isn't a bad start, and he can answer it fairly quickly. )
Being on an alien planet full of unknown threats with no real infrastructure and extremely wary locals.
( Rolled out lightly, and with some faint humor behind it.
Just, you know, regular every day problems.
Very obvious and actually honest problems, but it's easy to make light of them. )
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