☞ 017. (video)

[wouldnotkindly]

So, yesterday... [Jack looks significantly better than the last time he showed up on the network, but today he looks ill at ease. He doesn't seem to have gotten much sleep in the time since, either.] That was supposed to be our fathers haunting us, right?

I guess the City has a loose definition of what counts as a father. [A man who built a city at the bottom of the sea. A conman who sometimes called him boyo.] Either that or it couldn't pick just one.

[Then he sighs tiredly and drags a hand over his face.] Would've been better if it didn't even try. But that's too much to ask, isn't it?

Comments

[rudeandginger]

[He slinks his way over until he's leaning up against the counter next to Jack. There really isn't much to say to that, is there?]

I think you're going to need another drink.

[wouldnotkindly]

[No, there really isn't. Again, though, Jack is honestly somewhat surprised that Turlough hasn't had a stronger reaction to any of this so far.

Maybe it's a result of the drink he's already had in him. That might also be (at least partially) why he doesn't instinctively move away when the smaller man slinks over to him.]

You have any suggestions?

[rudeandginger]

[He's seen a great deal in his days.]

Don't you have anything else in the house?

[wouldnotkindly]

Yeah, uh...

[He has to glance around a bit before remembering that the cabinet is right behind him.] Here. [Thanks to his job at the Blue Light, he's been able to keep it fairly well stocked.]

[rudeandginger]

So, this was what you found when you went home, was it?

[He pours them another two generous glasses and hands Jack's back over.]

[wouldnotkindly]

[He nods, taking the glass and idly tipping it against the counter.]

By the time I found out... [No, that's not exactly right.] Even if I'd known all along, I wouldn't have been able to do anything about it. I was never able to do a damn thing about any of it.

[Except rescue the Little Sisters from their fates. But what if that wasn't really his choice, either? What if Tenenbaum had done something to him, and he still had no idea...

He doesn't want to think about it now. He takes a long drink instead.]

So I did what I was born to do. [He killed his father.] And after the job was done, Fontaine — the man responsible for it all... The only thing left for him to do was to get rid of me.

[rudeandginger]

I'm guessing he didn't succeed?

[wouldnotkindly]

He didn't.

[He can still feel his heart squeezing in his chest. His expression hardens, and he takes another drink.]

But sure as hell not for lack of trying.

[rudeandginger]

[He leans against Jack slightly as he takes another sip of his drink, pressing into him with a thin line of his body.]

People are generally bastards, I've found.

I'm sorry.

[wouldnotkindly]

[Jack glances down at him, and his features soften again. He finds himself leaning back into him a bit.]

I just wish I could believe otherwise. Like I used to.

But...thanks.

[rudeandginger]

Sometimes I think that. But mostly I'd rather know the worst case scenario.

[wouldnotkindly]

[He nods, though it's something of an absent gesture.]

Sometimes I wonder if it would be better if I still didn't know...about what I am. But I don't know if it'd really be worth it.

[rudeandginger]

There's no point wondering. You were bound to find out eventually, I'm sure.

[wouldnotkindly]

Eventually. [There was no avoiding finding out, one way or another.] But, still...

[He drinks again and lets his head drop to his chest.]

I don't know. [He doesn't know what comes next.]

[rudeandginger]

You'll get used to it. It's ridiculous what you'll adapt to.

[wouldnotkindly]

I hope so.

[He says it with a sigh and knocks back the rest of his glass.]

As long as I stay here, anyway...instead of going home again. [Where his only prospect is getting back at Fontaine, or, failing that, a watery grave. Neither are ones he considers with eagerness.]

[rudeandginger]

Good luck with that attempt. It doesn't seem like people stay here forever.

[wouldnotkindly]

[He nods again, staring down at his empty glass.]

Even with all the curses and everything else... I think I'd be better off if I did.

At least I have friends here.

[rudeandginger]

[Turlough gives him a long look. He's not sure if he's ever had friends, not real ones. Not until the Doctor, maybe. But even that...]

'Friends' is a stupidly quaint idea.

But I know what you mean.

[wouldnotkindly]

[At least Turlough can say with confidence that his relationships, no matter their nature, actually existed. Jack would rather not think of most of the only people he knows he's ever known.]

Well... At least there are people here who don't try to kill me on sight. [To say the least.] And that I can get along with, and... Well— you know.

[rudeandginger]

That's all one can hope for, I suppose.

[He fixes him with another look, leaning on him fairly heavily now (or at least as heavily as someone who weights 110lbs soaking wet can).]

Were you planning on finishing that thought in the near future?

[wouldnotkindly]

[All that leaning — not to mention whatever he might be implying, knowing Turlough — is bringing a slight tinge to his face. He clears his throat and sets his glass back on the counter, tipping it again.]

You, uh... You said you knew what I meant.

[rudeandginger]

All the same, you shouldn't let sentences trail off in that way. It implies a lack of conviction.

[brb, going back over to the other side of the kitchen now to get more ice.]

[wouldnotkindly]

[That's a slight relief. Jack glances down at himself before watching Turlough again.]

It doesn't feel like I've got much of that to spare these days.

[rudeandginger]

You should work on that. Things don't get easier unless you stick up for yourself.