raianet | text ↪ un: weaverville

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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 )

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[It really is probably for the best to do it now, both because he's managed to convince himself to do this whole sharing thing and who knows how long that'll last, and also that this is the last major thing he's been hiding. Everything else is stuff he doesn't share because they're related to the bigger issues, or just because he's reserved with people in general, and so this is the last hurdle, in a sense.

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.]

( When Lance pulls out his phone, Ian's expecting maybe a text message exchange or something. Maybe a photo of somebody from Hadriel he loved and lost, the kind of heartbreak Ian would have had if he woke up here without Nate. He's expecting just about anything but what he actually gets.

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. )

Edited 2021-06-09 02:56 (UTC)

[He nods his head a little in acknowledgment of the condolences; it doesn't matter, really, if they're out of pity or empathy, because the sentiment is more what matters. Besides, he's kind of just put a lot on Ian at once, so he's not exactly picky about how he responds.

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.

( That's another truth that feels important to Ian, too — that he'll never be alone. That Lance has friends and family who will be there for him alongside his mother. He's going to grow up loved, and at some point Ian knows there will be a time he realizes he's proud of who his father was. There's going to be a moment sometime in grade school eventually where kids are bragging about their dads, and Lance's kid will get to say, well MY dad had sixty fucking PhDs and worked for the FBI.

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. )

I was more into metal.

[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.]

Edited 2021-06-09 03:58 (UTC)

( I was more into metal.

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. )

[He can't help but be very amused by that squint, waiting to see if Ian will say something, but he doesn't; not about that topic, anyway. Instead he just touches him on the shoulder, and although Lance is definitely not the touchy type, that's more a general thing than something that holds with friends. With friends, sometimes that physical reassurance is really nice, and that's the case right now.

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.]

( His mind hadn't even gotten as far as thinking about how Nate would factor into this. It makes total sense Nate knows about this stuff, the two of them are close, and it does ease a little of that strange, unfounded guilt about not somehow knowing Lance has been carrying all this for so long. At the very least he had Nate to share it with. Really good that he doesn't have to dodge around that subject; for as evasive and fake as he's been with people he's slept with in the past, he feels really fucking bad about keeping stuff from Nate.

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.

[Lance watches his expression, trying to figure out what he's thinking about, and he definitely hasn't forgotten about turning this back around on Ian and making him share some things too. But for the moment he just raises his eyebrows at that comment, and he has to ask--]

Um, sure, of course, but is there some specific reason he doesn't know?

( He inhales like he's going to answer, and then just sort of... pauses with his lungs full. Exhales in an audible, slow demonstration of reluctance. )

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. )

[Lance gives Ian a brief look of 'I'm going to remember that' about the hour and a half comment, but then goes more serious again as Ian continues to stall.

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?

( The sound he makes could arguably be classified as a chuckle, but it's all breath and the only humor in it is the token amount that comes complimentary with his personality. )

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.

[Wow. W o w. That is a lot, and Lance is normally very fast to process what people are saying to him, but it's still a bit of an overload even for him.

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.]

( Lance's answer is a long pause that seems either mildly contemplative or mildly baffled.

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. )

[...That is a long pause. Lance is a little concerned that maybe that suggestion isn't going over so well, and Ian is trying to figure out how to nicely tell him he's a goddamn idiot, but then there's just that 'huh' and Lance can't help but laugh a little as he stands up.]

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?

( The laugh earns him a wry look, and it helps bleed some of the tension out that he didn't even realize he had. Look at that, both of them got something out of this conversation today. What are the odds Lance will be satisfied with that?

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. )

Is that all?

[Lance asks it lightly in return, unbothered by the approach; talking about the issue at all is a great start, so if Ian wants to be casual about it, that's perfectly fine.

But he's still going to pry further, because of course he is.]

Which part of that has been on your mind the most?

( Of course he is. At this point if he didn't, Ian might start worrying about an invasion of the body snatchers situation.

He has to bite his tongue to quell the instinct to rattle off some bullshit. A joke, maybe, or the answer that makes him feel the least vulnerable.

Instead, for the first time since they got here, he pauses to let himself just consider their situation. He tries to step outside of himself and observe objectively from a safe distance. Self-analyzing without actually feeling.

Maybe he should just start there. )

Honestly? I don't know.

( Which sounds like a cop-out answer, so he glances up at Lance to flash him a sincere expression. Just for a second or two. It's still easier to talk to his cup. )

I haven't really been letting myself... Think about it too hard. I've just been blocking it all out with work, so I don't give myself the chance to freak out.

[Lance sips his drink while Ian answers--ugh, it's still just as bad as last time, and even the stress of emotional vulnerability and the accompanying desire for alcohol can't help that much--and he isn't too surprised by the answer. He's mostly just pleased that Ian is being honest.]

That's understandable.

[Throwing himself into work to avoid thinking about it. It's a very normal way of handling things, and one that Lance can't judge even if he wanted to, which he doesn't.]

It's a lot to deal with, and it'll all still very... Sudden.

[And going from a situation like in New Amsterdam to a place like this, with what Lance knows about Ian's world, must be difficult to even begin processing.]

Yeah.

( He huffs the word out with a breathy, unhappy chuckle. )

One night I was sleeping next to my partner on vacation in fucking Hawaii, the next I'm hatching out of an egg light-years away from Earth.

( Hell of a rude awakening there. )

I guess I'm... I got a little too comfortable not trying to math out my survival odds first thing every morning. It sucks to go back to that.

Edited 2021-06-10 03:43 (UTC)

It does.

[He'd hated New Amsterdam himself, but that doesn't mean he didn't understand and appreciate how easy day to day life was there. For Ian, who he's pretty sure had a much more positive outlook on being in New Amsterdam and building a life there, this must be extra difficult even without factoring in the similarity to the situation in his world.

So Lance is quiet a few seconds, managing another sip of his drink with only a minimal expression of disgust, before addressing Ian seriously once again.]

It's okay to let yourself mourn what you've lost.

( He shakes his head slowly, with a contemplativeness that suggests he's not actually refuting the sentiment entirely.

He hasn't let himself mourn Kyna. Hell, he only barely let himself mourn his mom. Mourning a job and an apartment just seems so insignificant by comparison. And yeah, he should probably let himself grieve for all of it, he knows that objectively. It just doesn't... Feel, right now. He doesn't feel that need.

But that's what the moonshine regimen has been for, so obviously it's working. )

I don't really want to.

( Frankly, since they're going balls-out honest tonight. He wants to keep on not doing that.

He's just gonna power through this bluntly and confidently, and totally not feel exposed the entire fucking time. It's fine. )

The last time I lost something that mattered that much... I'm not good at handling I'm not good at that. It fucked me up for a long time. I can't really afford to do that again, I have a responsibility here. I'm doing things that could keep people alive, it's... That's more important than me right now.

( And also it would hurt, and he doesn't want to feel that again. That's the whole reason he never let himself get attached for so long until Kyna.

Is this completely hypocritical considering what he's offered to help Lance do? Maybe. Yes. He knows. He's just ignoring that too.
)

[As Ian explains, Lance is quiet, watching him intently even as he tries to turn it down a little so Ian doesn't feel too scrutinized. He hadn't really expected Ian to be able--or, more accurately, willing--to articulate his feelings about this issue, or for them to be quite as familiar as they are.

So, once he's sure Ian's finished for now, he gives a quiet sigh and a small smile to acknowledge the faint humor in what he's about to say.]

It seems necessary to mention that we've had almost exact conversation before, but in reverse.

[But he doesn't need to go any further into that, because the point is made, and when they'd had that conversation Ian had let him get away with it for awhile. He'll extend the same courtesy and not push for now.

However, that doesn't mean he won't make something clear before he backs off.]

I understand feeling like it's more important to help people, but you can't forget that one of those people that needs help might be yourself.

[But that said--]

It doesn't have to be all at once, though. And none of us have been here that long.

[So if Ian wants to wait a little to address things, that's okay. It just can't be too long because it'll only get worse and worse.]

I know, I know.

( He sighs, self-deprecating and frustrated. )

As soon as I finished saying it, it was like deja vu, but it's not...

( Well, at least the first emotion slipping in is just him being frustrated with himself. Lips tuck into one cheek for a second or two while he tries to figure out how to explain the way he's rationalizing it. )

The difference is, you can do that. You can deal with your shit and still manage to... I don't know, get up every day and keep...

( Fuck, he doesn't know the word he's even looking for. Living? Being useful, being helpful, being productive. )

I can't. I mean, seriously, it's... It was pretty pathetic, man, trust me. When my mom died, I don't think I left my apartment for anything but class for like a year. I just, like, checked out. I don't wanna do that again, not in a place that's anything like what I was living with before. If something happens to one of you two that I could've done something about, or... I don't know. But it's not New Amsterdam, it's Crater Lake all over again.

( This is probably the most he's ever said about either topic, so that's definitely something. Even if he sounds like he's steadily getting a little more agitated with himself. )

[Lance gives a small, mostly humorless smile at the first comment; the particular topic is a little funny, but the rest of what he's saying is not. But the rest of it fills in a little more information he hadn't wanted to ask about, as well as giving him a bit more insight in some of Ian's behavior that he'd only had guesses for before.

He would tell Ian that he's mistaken about how well Lance can handle things, just to eliminate that as an excuse, but he doesn't want to risk turning the conversation back on himself especially when Ian is actually opening up a little. So, instead he nods, expression even and understanding as usual although he notes that Ian seems to be getting frustrated with himself.]

That isn't pathetic. It's a pretty common way of dealing--or not dealing--with grief.

[He does want to make that clear. Obviously it's not a healthy manifestation of the grieving process, but it is one that happens all the time.]

I get that you don't want to go through that again, especially if it means you're taking yourself out of a position where you might be able to prevent something bad from happening. But repressing the issues doesn't make them go away, it just makes them unpredictable.

[And that means they'll still come up, one way or another, only they won't be something that can be planned for.]

text ↪ un: weaverville

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