[He doesn't mind getting dragged along, because it means being inside and not anywhere public, and being safe, with her. There's still an ache in his heart and a longing to be elsewhere, but he'll try to keep that to himself. It's only temporary, right?]
You were leaving, though. That's not house rest at all. ...You were leaving to find me?
Yes. [and now she looks briefly uncomfortable, even as she closes the door behind him. Lela comes bounding up the short flight of stairs to headbutt Malcolm's shins while she shrugs out of her coat] Usually it only takes you 35 minutes to get here. It's been nearly an hour, and I hadn't heard from you. That's not like you.
[Kitten headbutts means Malcolm scooping said kitten up before he even takes his own coat off. It almost looks like he's not going to. He's...distracted.] Sorry. Something got in the way.
I could eat, if you're suggesting food. [He hadn't been particularly hungry after his confrontation with North, so breakfast wasn't really a thing.]
[ Yes good. Lela has her Person's persons well trained for this, and she's already purring away happuly as Mal pays her the attention she wants. Coats clearly can wait until she wants down. ]
..All right. [she's not sure she's entirely convinced, but he does appear to have something on his mind] I have some snacks Delta brought over, go take a seat and I'll bring them out.
Tea?
[this one might be rhetorical. then again, he might ask for something from the liquor cabinet of wonders]
[He's not doing a good job of seeming fine, he realizes. Bit late to fix that now. All he can do is stand there petting the little pink fluffball. He and Trip never had any pets, but maybe when Charlie's older and asks for one--
No. Damn it. There he goes again, mixing universes. Thinking too much about what isn't really there. Or is there, but in just some other far away universe. There's a flicker of wanting to apologize to Carolina for being so unfair to her, for having her put up with him, but instead, he tries to content himself with the kitten. Thinks on the happiness he felt with his husband instead. How could he think of York, or North, or anyone, when there's all of that running around his head?
It's just as confusing and complicated as it was arguing with York.]
[ Lela wriggles a little until she's comfortably draped along Malcolm's arm, purring away like a frieght train, little tail flicking up at the end. That he's still standing there a few minutes later goes uncommented on, though Carolina herself is silent and watchful for that time.
Given the tone of his earlier texts, Carolina has already made an assumption on what must be causing him to be caught up in his own thoughts. When last she'd seen him, he'd been so happy, had gushed about being with York, and now something had occurred to rattle that entirely.
She clears her throat when it becomes clear that he's caught up in his own head. ]
Malcolm? [There follows a light touch at his elbow; Lela reaches a paw for the plate of goodies, but gets ignored.] C'mon. Let's sit down
[To his credit, he doesn't jerk at the touch, merely glances up and then nods almost absently. Poor Lela gets put down so he can act like a proper bloody guest and take off his coat before going over to the couch. Right. Movies. Mindless fun action movies. And company.]
[ Little pink head headbutts the hands setting her down, but she'll follow at the humans' heels over to the couch. All the better to climb someone's leg and settle in the lap, after all!
The plate of goods - some rolls, some cookies, mostly finger food that doesn't take effort to throw together - is set on the coffee table, and Carolina vanishes again briefly to get two mugs of tea; no reflective shine on these, and once Mal looks about, anything that could reflect has been dealt with as best Carolina can manage. ]
Don't worry about it.
Just promise not to tsk at me if the tea isn't up to your standards. [It's a weak joke, but she's trying] Is this due to earlier, or..?
[It does take him a moment to notice after he's grabbed a little finger food to pick at, trying to be more a better guest and looking up and out instead of inward. The chuckle he gives is tired.]
I see someone took precautions. I should do that at home. Might save some grief. [If only everyone did that, too. He shakes his head slowly.] A little of that, a lot more--a lot more of--
Have you been told not to touch them? The surfaces. If you see something. I heard it, too. Wasn't planning on it.
Tried to. [there's a downward twist to her mouth] Can't say I was entirely successful. Don't use the bathroom next to the study, I haven't anything to cover the wall mirror in there.
[The twist vanishes as she sets the mugs down, and the question freezes her a moment, something pained in her expression passing over her face. She doesn't quite hide it, either, even as she ducks forward to scoop up her scapegrace cat.]
Yeah. Yeah, I heard that from a couple of people. [North and York, funnily enough.]
Wasn't planning on it. [Yes, it's a repeat, but it seems important to say.] I just wasn't thinking. So I have a whole other history crammed in my head, and that's...that's fairly distracting.
On the other hand, I am now no longer sure I can be entirely angry at North, now that I understand how this feels.
..Oh. [The repetition is important, and her eyes widen as the words sink in. Then her face falls, still pained but entirely understanding, perhaps too much so, Lela drawn against her chest absently (and earning a tiny MEWF and a little bit of wiggling until the cat is comfortable again).]
It is. [distracting, that is] It might be easier to swallow if it was just dry facts. But it's not just the history. Nothing here ever seems to be quite that simple.
[that last remark earns a puzzled look, however. The dots aren't connecting -- and why should they?] What do you mean?
No, you're right. It's not just history. [He refuses to let the emotions he spent time letting out well up again, but there's that longing for home all the same. A twang of anxiety of wondering where his child is, how he is.]
Ah, well, I guess you didn't get told about North. And York. And how they apparently touched something that showed them in a relationship together.
They slept together. The aftermath was unpleasant, York got drunk, the cornfield happened, he decided to tell me about it, then started telling me after some prodding about other relationships he's had while we were together, and we had a discussion about that that ended in him staying out of the house for a few days until we talk again later, and earlier this morning I talked to North about the whole thing.
[It all comes out at once, one item after the other, connected history, drawing lines to all the dots. Satisfied enough with that basic explanation, he pointedly takes a sip of tea.]
It fades. The impact of it. But you don't really forget, not in the ways you want to.
[there's a low note to the tone of her voice, the imprint of personal experience ringing through. She's had over twenty four hours to run in mental and emotional circles regarding what she saw, which means she does at least have perspective. She understands, even if what she saw wasn't the same as Malcolm, or North.
She looks up when Mal starts speaking again, lips parting to interrupt.]
I--
[ Oh.
Or, Mal can. Keep going. And going, and Carolina's eyes get a little wider, and she can distantly feel that her jaw is slowly dropping open in shock. Surprise. Disbelief. At least one if not all of those emotions, tucked in behind a face slowly growing more distant even as something churns within her stomach.
No. North hadn't mentioned that. Not that she had asked, and ultimately, that was his business -- and York's, really. Which made it Mal's, in an unenviable and awkward fashion. It adds a pall to what she had thought she knew, and there is guilt - that she should have realised sooner, instead of not at all. Mouth parts, then closes, then opens again to take a breath again as he continues, her head tilting chin inwards and gaze flicking away. A thin vein of emotion ignored in favour of concentrating on now and listening to what Malcolm has to say.
In the midst of discussionm, Lela climbs up out of her lap, arches her back in a stretch, before clambering over her thigh and turning in circles on the couch cushion until she is happily curled close next to Malcolm. Human issues mean very little to a cat.
When he stops to sip his tea, it takes her a minute to remember what it was she'd been about to say.]
--I didn't. Know. I didn't know that.
That's not why he got drunk, but I--[she stops, and shakes her head.] ...Sounds like you've had quite the day.
Edited (urk, html hiccup x2) 2014-11-20 21:38 (UTC)
He told me that's why he got drunk, but I suppose he might not have told me the whole truth about that, either. [There's faint anger in his voice, staring at the wall, nice and blank and not at all reflective. Faint if only because his emotions are all over the place, and...]
It almost seems...hard to care right now. When it feels like I'm in love with someone else in another time and another place. I understand what North was talking about, how it would've felt so right to them. Natural. So I understand that transgression. I may not be happy about it, but I understand.
...Perhaps you didn't need all of that dumped on you. [A bare smirk. Very bare. Didn't need it, but it happened all the same.]
She's not sure what else York would have told him, but frankly anything else likely wouldn't have registered with Malcolm when your boyfriend has admitted to essentially cheating on you. He's angry and he has every right to be.]
[she hesitates a moment before making a choice] He'd touched a second surface. One where he was responsible for the deaths of other members of Project Freelancer, taking their AI as his own. Delta wasn't...Delta, not ours. Different. Convinced him it was logical to do.
He thought he'd murdered me and the people he called friends. [and was terrified of Delta, if only for a few hours or so hours.] That might drive anyone to drink.
[her voice is firm, if quiet] I was talking him around when I touched something myself. I'd forgotten, in my room.. So yes, I can understand how overwhelming that is too.
[There's no disagreement about things being dumped on her; no reaction save to flatten her lips into a thin line before she replies.] You needed someone to talk to about it. That's.. That's what friends are for, right?
Ah. Yes, he did seem in need of consoling after what he thought Delta did. I...suppose that's a very good reason to drink. That one I can understand. I hope not to touch any of the less pleasant ones...to avoid that kind of fate.
[There's brief guilt he feels, and he reaches over to pet the purring furball.] You can talk to me, too. So I don't dominate this conversation with...bloody bullshit.
Knowing how real that those memories feel, and how overwhelming the emotions locked behind them are.. I can understand that, too.
It doesn't excuse what he did. [not that Carolina thinks Malcolm is - but she doesn't want him to think she's giving him a pass, either] What either of them did. Even if it wasn't entirely them. But i think.. In many ways, the pleasant memories are as bad as the good. You still see something.. Experience something that was never yours. And won't likely ever be.
Hardly bullshit, Malcolm. [she can't quite smile, not with the way the mouth twists at one corner] I don't exactly have much to say here.
[ But I think I need something a little stronger than tea right now. ]
[Ah. That does bring those feelings back with quite full force. Family. Family with someone he trusts and loves. The feeling of fulfillment. Malcolm brings a knuckle up to his mouth and tries to remember to breathe easily. Or at least normally.
After a moment:] Sorry. I'm sorry, I'm still--I hope this fades away soon.
[ That wasn't the reaction she'd expected or intended, and for a moment, she just stares at him, dismayed. Then she reaches over, squeezes his shoulder gently. Lela even rolls over so she can press her head against his leg, still bonelessly sprawed against him. ]
It's all right. Take a minute to yourself, okay.
[ Carolina then rises, excuses herself to head for the kitchen. There's a distanct clink of glass and ceramics, before she pads back in, the bottle of alcohol she'd been given for Christmas and two glasses carried in either hand. ]
I have a feeling we could both use a little of this right now.
Bit, ah, early for drinking, isn't it? [Not that he's going to turn the drink down, of course.] I was late because I spent some time being, er, upset at what I'd seen. And it's so, so nice. And that's the upsetting part. To be so far away.
No. [she does set the empty glasses down, doesn't yet pour the bottle. Just rolls it a moment in her hands as she takes her seat again] After you've had a lifetime dumped inside your head, any time after that is worth a drink.
[In that much, at least, York had the right of it]
You'd think the distance would make things easier. But it's not true. *heh* It's definitely difficult to wait it out, but it fade. After a while. Sometimes it takes a few hours. I know it did for me.
[He recognizes the bottle, manages to quirk his mouth up, though it isn't a smile per se. But her explanation alarms him.] Hours? It can't be hours; I can't stand this for hours. I want to go home. Even if it's not actually home. It is but it isn't.
[He's hesitant, but, with a lick of his lips, he reaches out for the bottle and unscrews it, pouring a little into his cooling tea. Just a little. As a start. And offers it over.]
Alcohol and mindless action movies and good company, right?
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Action; Day 158 - late morning
You were leaving, though. That's not house rest at all. ...You were leaving to find me?
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Have you eaten yet?
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I could eat, if you're suggesting food. [He hadn't been particularly hungry after his confrontation with North, so breakfast wasn't really a thing.]
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..All right. [she's not sure she's entirely convinced, but he does appear to have something on his mind] I have some snacks Delta brought over, go take a seat and I'll bring them out.
Tea?
[this one might be rhetorical. then again, he might ask for something from the liquor cabinet of wonders]
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[He's not doing a good job of seeming fine, he realizes. Bit late to fix that now. All he can do is stand there petting the little pink fluffball. He and Trip never had any pets, but maybe when Charlie's older and asks for one--
No. Damn it. There he goes again, mixing universes. Thinking too much about what isn't really there. Or is there, but in just some other far away universe. There's a flicker of wanting to apologize to Carolina for being so unfair to her, for having her put up with him, but instead, he tries to content himself with the kitten. Thinks on the happiness he felt with his husband instead. How could he think of York, or North, or anyone, when there's all of that running around his head?
It's just as confusing and complicated as it was arguing with York.]
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Given the tone of his earlier texts, Carolina has already made an assumption on what must be causing him to be caught up in his own thoughts. When last she'd seen him, he'd been so happy, had gushed about being with York, and now something had occurred to rattle that entirely.
She clears her throat when it becomes clear that he's caught up in his own head. ]
Malcolm? [There follows a light touch at his elbow; Lela reaches a paw for the plate of goodies, but gets ignored.] C'mon. Let's sit down
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Sorry. I don't seem to be all here right now.
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The plate of goods - some rolls, some cookies, mostly finger food that doesn't take effort to throw together - is set on the coffee table, and Carolina vanishes again briefly to get two mugs of tea; no reflective shine on these, and once Mal looks about, anything that could reflect has been dealt with as best Carolina can manage. ]
Don't worry about it.
Just promise not to tsk at me if the tea isn't up to your standards. [It's a weak joke, but she's trying] Is this due to earlier, or..?
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I see someone took precautions. I should do that at home. Might save some grief. [If only everyone did that, too. He shakes his head slowly.] A little of that, a lot more--a lot more of--
Have you been told not to touch them? The surfaces. If you see something. I heard it, too. Wasn't planning on it.
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[The twist vanishes as she sets the mugs down, and the question freezes her a moment, something pained in her expression passing over her face. She doesn't quite hide it, either, even as she ducks forward to scoop up her scapegrace cat.]
Yeah. Yeah, I heard that from a couple of people. [North and York, funnily enough.]
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On the other hand, I am now no longer sure I can be entirely angry at North, now that I understand how this feels.
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It is. [distracting, that is] It might be easier to swallow if it was just dry facts. But it's not just the history. Nothing here ever seems to be quite that simple.
[that last remark earns a puzzled look, however. The dots aren't connecting -- and why should they?] What do you mean?
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Ah, well, I guess you didn't get told about North. And York. And how they apparently touched something that showed them in a relationship together.
They slept together. The aftermath was unpleasant, York got drunk, the cornfield happened, he decided to tell me about it, then started telling me after some prodding about other relationships he's had while we were together, and we had a discussion about that that ended in him staying out of the house for a few days until we talk again later, and earlier this morning I talked to North about the whole thing.
[It all comes out at once, one item after the other, connected history, drawing lines to all the dots. Satisfied enough with that basic explanation, he pointedly takes a sip of tea.]
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[there's a low note to the tone of her voice, the imprint of personal experience ringing through. She's had over twenty four hours to run in mental and emotional circles regarding what she saw, which means she does at least have perspective. She understands, even if what she saw wasn't the same as Malcolm, or North.
She looks up when Mal starts speaking again, lips parting to interrupt.]
I--
[ Oh.
Or, Mal can. Keep going. And going, and Carolina's eyes get a little wider, and she can distantly feel that her jaw is slowly dropping open in shock. Surprise. Disbelief. At least one if not all of those emotions, tucked in behind a face slowly growing more distant even as something churns within her stomach.
No. North hadn't mentioned that. Not that she had asked, and ultimately, that was his business -- and York's, really. Which made it Mal's, in an unenviable and awkward fashion. It adds a pall to what she had thought she knew, and there is guilt - that she should have realised sooner, instead of not at all. Mouth parts, then closes, then opens again to take a breath again as he continues, her head tilting chin inwards and gaze flicking away. A thin vein of emotion ignored in favour of concentrating on now and listening to what Malcolm has to say.
In the midst of discussionm, Lela climbs up out of her lap, arches her back in a stretch, before clambering over her thigh and turning in circles on the couch cushion until she is happily curled close next to Malcolm. Human issues mean very little to a cat.
When he stops to sip his tea, it takes her a minute to remember what it was she'd been about to say.]
--I didn't. Know. I didn't know that.
That's not why he got drunk, but I--[she stops, and shakes her head.] ...Sounds like you've had quite the day.
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It almost seems...hard to care right now. When it feels like I'm in love with someone else in another time and another place. I understand what North was talking about, how it would've felt so right to them. Natural. So I understand that transgression. I may not be happy about it, but I understand.
...Perhaps you didn't need all of that dumped on you. [A bare smirk. Very bare. Didn't need it, but it happened all the same.]
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[she'll concede on that.
She's not sure what else York would have told him, but frankly anything else likely wouldn't have registered with Malcolm when your boyfriend has admitted to essentially cheating on you. He's angry and he has every right to be.]
[she hesitates a moment before making a choice] He'd touched a second surface. One where he was responsible for the deaths of other members of Project Freelancer, taking their AI as his own. Delta wasn't...Delta, not ours. Different. Convinced him it was logical to do.
He thought he'd murdered me and the people he called friends. [and was terrified of Delta, if only for a few hours or so hours.] That might drive anyone to drink.
[her voice is firm, if quiet] I was talking him around when I touched something myself. I'd forgotten, in my room.. So yes, I can understand how overwhelming that is too.
[There's no disagreement about things being dumped on her; no reaction save to flatten her lips into a thin line before she replies.] You needed someone to talk to about it. That's.. That's what friends are for, right?
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[There's brief guilt he feels, and he reaches over to pet the purring furball.] You can talk to me, too. So I don't dominate this conversation with...bloody bullshit.
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It doesn't excuse what he did. [not that Carolina thinks Malcolm is - but she doesn't want him to think she's giving him a pass, either] What either of them did. Even if it wasn't entirely them. But i think.. In many ways, the pleasant memories are as bad as the good. You still see something.. Experience something that was never yours. And won't likely ever be.
Hardly bullshit, Malcolm. [she can't quite smile, not with the way the mouth twists at one corner] I don't exactly have much to say here.
[ But I think I need something a little stronger than tea right now. ]
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After a moment:] Sorry. I'm sorry, I'm still--I hope this fades away soon.
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It's all right. Take a minute to yourself, okay.
[ Carolina then rises, excuses herself to head for the kitchen. There's a distanct clink of glass and ceramics, before she pads back in, the bottle of alcohol she'd been given for Christmas and two glasses carried in either hand. ]
I have a feeling we could both use a little of this right now.
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Difficult to ignore.
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[In that much, at least, York had the right of it]
You'd think the distance would make things easier. But it's not true. *heh* It's definitely difficult to wait it out, but it fade. After a while. Sometimes it takes a few hours. I know it did for me.
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[arms fold over her chest] A couple of hours at most, give or take.
It may not get easier with it, but time'll probably go a bit faster.
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[He's hesitant, but, with a lick of his lips, he reaches out for the bottle and unscrews it, pouring a little into his cooling tea. Just a little. As a start. And offers it over.]
Alcohol and mindless action movies and good company, right?
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