9960/Reasons to Live

From Heroes Assemble MUSH
Jump to navigation Jump to search
Reasons to Live
Date of Scene: 01 February 2022
Location: Grand Central Station
Synopsis: After the meeting in Grand Central Station, Jon and Cael have a long talk. Jon lets out some of his bitterness and frustration, and then declares that he wants to live--and tells Cael how to be sure he comes back from death.
Cast of Characters: Jonathan Sims, Cael Becker




Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon is still in the Dining Concourse, having told Bear to sit and stay. He sent Amit off with the remnants of the pizzas and coffee to hand out to other agents, and went to try to figure out how to clean the shake machine. Bear's not /his/ dog, after all, so he's not just going to walk off somewhere with said dog.

    He finally gives up on trying to clean the machine in any kind of normal manner, and summons up a globe of water to send through the thing and pull out any debris left from making the shakes. Bonus: this is probably the cleanest the machine will have been since it was first made.

Cael Becker has posed:
    This makes finding Jon much easier than Cael expected - and Bear is all waggling butt, with a happy bark or two when Cael returns, nosing at his person, and getting petted and hugged in return. Cael, of course, is now dressed in a jacket and hat shoved on her by Sara - but not without good cause, as she rises back to her feet to watch Jon cleaning up the machine. "This is how you spend your time tonight?" she remarks in a dry voice. "I was convinced I'd find you down in the tunnels with a cigarette."
    She lets out a sigh before adding, "Sara apologized again, and offered to help however she can... This shit's fucked up, Jon, and honestly you'd know better than any of us that... none of us are //well//."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I wasn't going to go smoking with Bear there," Jon notes. "I didn't know if he'd follow me, and even if he would, I'd just be worried about smoking around him, and..." He shrugs. "It wouldn't help much. So I figured I'd make him easier for you to find."

    He shakes his head. "I know we're not well. What am I supposed to say? I doubt you want me to gripe about your roommate, so I won't. I will clean the shake machine, and go smoke a cigarette, and call Martin, and keep my opinions to myself. But I will not lie and say I accept her apology, or her help, or that I forgive her. She chose to walk out instead of dealing with whatever issues are there, but that doesn't make them go away."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Jon... you idiot, yes you can take Bear with you and go smoke. I //left// him with you," Cael answers, rolling her eyes - even as she moves in to give him a brief kiss, a smile briefly crossing her features.
    "You don't have to forgive her," she agrees. "You can be pissed. Fuck knows I'm pissed about plenty these days - it's your turn. You've been due - yeah?" she asks.
    "I'll go down and have a smoke with you - if that's alright. Maybe make myself scarce after so you can call Martin? But seriously Jon - when I leave Bear with you, you can take him with you, unless you're going somewhere dangerous. But I mean - you're an idiot, but you're not stupid." She gives Jon a mischievous grin as she makes this pronouncement.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon sighs. "He's not my dog, Cael," he says, after returning the kiss. "I get that he helps you, but a dog, to me, is just... it's like a child. Friendly and sweet and kind and loving, but I have to /pay attention/ all the time. I can /feel/ the need for love and affection, so I have to either give love and affection or deliberately turn away. I couldn't do that and just... wrap myself up in my thoughts, or let go and do nothing. I'd really rather you didn't leave him with me for my sake; it's like asking me to babysit."

    He doesn't even really respond to the 'idiot' comment, he just frowns at the machine, then pulls out his phone and makes a note there to make sure Shake Shack gets reimbursed for what Lydia used. Then he says, "I'm glad Sara's feeling better. I wish I was. Let's go have a smoke, then." Something's obviously bothering him, but he's trying not to be openly angry at Cael. It's not really her fault.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Oh," Cael replies a bit dumbly. "I- I guess I didn't realize. I just thought- I assumed it would be better than being alone." She lets out a sigh, then adds, "I'm sorry, Jon. I won't do that to you again," she says contritely, wrapping her arms around her middle.
    This was a side of Jon she wasn't used to - and she wasn't sure how to handle it yet. She'll figure it out somehow - right? "Yeah, let's go have a smoke," she agrees. "...you do want me along, right? It's okay if you don't." Maybe she makes altogether too many assumptions - suddenly, it's hard to be sure.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon sighs, and says, "Cael... sometimes, I /need/ to be alone. People, they... they're overwhelming. I can /see/ everyone's emotions, feel their anger and pain and happiness. Animals, too, the complex ones that have emotions. Sometimes I need all that to /stop/. I'm still learning to block those things out, and even without empathy... I'm a therapist, I'm /trained/ to understand all of that. The only way to get away from the need to help people is to not be /around/ people."

    He bites his lip. "But right now, it's okay. Okay?" He reaches out a hand, though he doesn't smile, and then starts for the ramps down to the train platforms.

    "I'm not mad at you," he says after a moment. "You're about the only person I trust to have my back these days. I'm sorry... I'm sorry you got caught up in all of this."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael takes the offered hand, giving a nod in response, but there's no smile from her, either, as she remains thoughtfully silent.
    "I guess I just never really realized," she finally murmurs when they step down onto the platform level, letting Jon guide them wherever he'd like to go.
    "I'll always have your back. And I'm sorry if I- if somehow I didn't make it clear enough how much I care about what //you're// going through. Maybe I just- maybe I'm not used to listening enough."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Yeah, I didn't... word that right. A lot of it is my own issues with... opening up, I suppose. But it's still..." Jon sighs, and runs a hand through his hair. "I listen. I listen, and I listen, and I try to understand. And I feel like... most other people... don't. Not... not in the same way. And that's because most people aren't trained for it, and that's fine, but it leaves me..."

    He shakes his head. "I listened. To Lydia, and to you, and to Sara, and... and /everyone/, people volunteering to get /hurt/, and... and then we're talking about /me/ dying. /My/ death. And it feels like nobody's... listening to /me/. Like everyone is talking /about/ me, or telling me how to handle it, but not just... sitting down and listening to me. Actually listening. Not focusing on how they can help, not worrying about me, not telling me what to do, just /listening/."

    He sighs. "And I can't tell everyone to fuck off and stop talking about it, because I'm in charge, and because other people are affected by this, so I need to make sure I can come back, so everyone'll be okay. You know?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I need to know how to bring you back," Cael answers quietly. "I need to know what it is- how I- I need to bring you back to Martin and Agnes, and if I don't know how to do that..." It tears at her - that pain, that uncertainty. That fear she can't quite let go of that somehow... //She's// done this. She's doomed him.
    "But I want to know what you're thinking and feeling, too. I want to know what you need. I do - and if I'm not doing that right then... I don't mean to," she says with regret.
    "I mean, we can have both those things at the same time. ...right?" she asks, giving that hand she still holds a squeeze.
    "I really didn't mean to go off like that at everyone, though. I was acting like a fucking child."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    They've reached a train platform, and Jon doesn't bother going to find a far one; he just squeezes Cael's hand and steps away a bit, pulls out his pack of cigarettes and his lighter. He lights the cigarette and takes a long drag, stares down the tunnel.

    "I honestly don't know what I need," he says after a moment. "I wish I did. I keep thinking about what I'd offer someone else, in my place. If it were... anyone else, really. If it had been Sara, or John, or Meggan, or... you." He smirks at her, briefly, then looks away again. "I'd offer support. An ear. I'd bitch about how much this hurts where they couldn't hear. I'd rally others to try to help them. I'd... maybe try to throw a going-away party? A welcome back to life party? If they were the type that'd want that." He sighs. "I don't know. I'd like to /think/ I would, anyway, but maybe I'd be so wrapped up in my own shit that I wouldn't bother."

    He frowns. "That's how this started, you know? Hell, that's why I offered to lead the Justice League Dark. Because nobody else /was/. Do you know how rich it is, hearing people question how to work with Lady Death /now/, when I first contacted her /months/ ago? Before we 'needed' her? Because it was the right fucking thing to do, to go talk to our neighbor?" He shakes his head. "I kept stepping up, because nobody else was. I made alliances and made sure an evacuation happened, because nobody else was. When they found out I was chosen as Gaea's Champion both John and Zatanna threatened to leave the universe entirely. People tell me I'm full of myself, that I'm prideful, or that I'm choosing to /let/ myself die, that I should just... avoid it, instead of planning for it, figuring out how to come back."

    He frowns. "I know what people think of me. That I'm carrying all this weight I don't need to, that I'm putting all the burden on myself, well--where are they? Are they coordinating things, making sure these things happen? Are they asking what I need, or just complaining about being told I need help? Are they saying 'how can I help' or just questioning every damn decision I make? I dropped the ball, I /didn't/ take on the weight of caring for people... and Chas summoned an angel, Phoebe did a horrible spell to hide her emotions that could have killed her..."

    He takes a drag and puffs out the smoke, stares at it. "But, you know, everyone else knows better than I do, what's going on, how to fix this, how to fight, what I need, whether I even need to come back from the dead, how I should do that." He flicks the ashes of the ciagrette at the floor, glowering.

Cael Becker has posed:
    The cigarette Cael pulls out is a handrolled joint, which she lights with hands that tremble slightly as she listens to Jon - to the pain in his voice that she knows she can't soothe away. The anger, and the fear - all things she's struggling with herself. When she finally gets it lit, she takes a drag, and steps in closer towards Jon.
    "I wish I'd been... better able to help you, earlier. When all of this started." When she'd been a mess of terror, and trauma, and pain. "You have every right to be furious. This shouldn't all come down to you - it's bullshit. It shouldn't all be on your shoulders, and I want to carry as much of that weight for you as I can. As much as you'll let me."
    After a second drag on her cigarette she asks in a quiet voice, "You do want to come back after all this - right Jon? You do, for //yourself//. That's not just me... projecting what I need again? What I think you need, or want?" She does her best to keep her voice calm and even - without judgement, as she's seen Jon do a million time before.
    But there's probably no disguising the pain and anxiety she feels just asking that question.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I honestly don't know," Jon says, staring down the tunnel. "I'm not allowed to... to want anything else, you know? But I don't know. I mean... you keep talking about Martin and Agnes. About them /needing/ me. But Martin?" He laughs, bitterly. "Martin doesn't /need/ me. Not like I need him. He'll survive without me, he always has. He let me think he was /dead/ for a month. He promised to come fight with me, to face /anything/ with me, and then here, now, when I need him most? He's not back at the Trisk with Agnes and the dog just for /her/ sake, Cael. He won't get out there and /fight/ with me. When he /promised/. Maybe I'd like him to feel the same pain I felt."

    He shakes his head. "Agnes barely knows me. Martin could be just as good a father to her. No, what Agnes needs from me is to not take on the Archive at her age--so why not just blow it up? Destroy the Archive, let it end with me. No one else has to take it on untrained, no one else has to suffer for the amusement of the damn gods."

    He frowns. "I suspect that, when everything else is stripped away, I'm going to be /very/ resentful at the idea of coming back just because people /need/ me. I know how much people /need/ me. I also know how much the people who supposedly /need/ me don't need /me/. They need what I can do for them, how I can help them. When I open up and show them pain and terror and madness, show them what I /really/ am, they run away." He shakes his head. "Martin's about the only one who hasn't, but... then again, we've always kept our lives very separate, outside the home. Now that he knows what I was always meant to be? He's pulled away almost entirely. So... what do I have to come back to? I keep... trying to think about that."

    He swallows, and looks over, and manages a smile. "I did promise to come back to you, though. So... I will. I promise. I'll come back." A mantra, he's repeated again and again. He'll come back to her. He'll come back.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael stares determinedly down at the floor, trying desperately to block out the terror Jon's words try to raise in her - and pulling again at her joint in an attempt to dull it, and block it all out. She wants to protest, to deny everything he says - but what does she really know? What does she knew about Jon and Martin's relationship?
    "...I won't hold you to the promise," she finally says in a soft voice. "If that isn't what you want. I mean... you know what I want, and if you want to live, I'll be here to help you. I would fight anything for you, endure anything. I'll be right here with you. But I- Maybe it's unfair to force you to do anything right now, just because //I// need it - because I want it." Ay, oruguitas, don't you hold on too tight...
    "But I think maybe you should talk to Martin, because I definitely can't speak for him - but I think he deserves a chance to respond to all that... don't you? I can stay with Agnes for a bit if you both need the time. You need to decide what //you// want."
    Trust they'll be there, and start to prepare the way for tomorrow...

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I'm going to tell him," Jon replies. "That's why I hadn't called him yet. Because I don't know how to... to say it yet. But what can he really say? He's not here. And he can't go down into the Underworld to find me. And even if he could, right now... I don't know if he could bring me back."

    He swallows. "There's a part of me... a tiny part of me... that's always kind of believed that maybe Martin just /died/ back at the house in Oxford, when Agnes was born, and what came back... wasn't him." He laughs, and shakes his head. "And it's right, in a way. Martin doesn't remember a key part of his life. That /isn't/ really him. And that's my fault. Maybe if he had his memories back, that'd be enough, but... there's too much pain and resentment. It's going to take time, and we don't /have/ time."

    He sighs. "Isis told Lydia to take you down. To remind me of who I am. That tells me some part of me will want to come back. And it's... not like I /want/ to die. I just..."

    He leans against the wall, heavily. "Damn it, Cael. Would you stop focusing on Martin and think about /our/ relationship? I'm not saving the world for Martin's sake." He eyes her. "Why do /you/ need me, then?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Oh, //God//, Jon - I'm shit at all this stuff, but even I know you don't tell him all that shit on the phone. Go to the Trisk and talk to him, for fuck's sake," Cael answers fiercely, looking up to meet his gaze for a moment, then looking away with a frustrated huff.
    Her voice is softer again as she adds, "I didn't want to die either - but I did want the pain to stop for a while there. So desperately that I was afraid of what I'd do to make it stop. I'd had enough training to know that you- that you're supposed to reach out for help when that shit happens." And so she did.
    "It got better. Not completely, of course, but- you made it tolerable. You and Sara. And Bear." The pup was still at her side, leaning heavily against her leg as the pair talks.
    As he starts to talk about their relationship, though, she edges closer - reaching out to try to capture his hand in hers again. "What do you want me to say, Jon? I love you. My life is better with you in. I- I like sleeping beside you. I like knowing someone's there. I feel safe around you - safe to be myself. As fucked up, or rude, or angry as I need to be. You know what a mess I am, and- and somehow you think I'm beautiful, and strong, and brave, and-" Somehow, she can't hold back the sob, and she reaches up with the hand still holding what's left of her joint, to rub the back of it across her eyes. "I want you to come back - but... I don't think it's right if you come back //for me//."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Why not?" Jon peers down at her. "If it's okay to come back for Martin, or Agnes... why not for you? Why not for /us/?" He frowns, briefly, a faint furrowing of his brow. "I... when I think about why I want to live I think about... flying. I think about catching you when you were falling, how nothing in the world mattered except making sure you were okay. I think about... trying out wearing skirts. Teaching Agnes how to make curry. Going on every single roller coaster in the world with you. Whatever... grand romantic gesture Martin's going to do for my 35th birthday to make up for being /dead/ for my 34th."

    He sniffles; he's crying, but he takes a drag on the cigarette anyway. "It's not like I don't love Martin. I do. I need him. I need Agnes." He squeezes Cael's hand. "But /right now/, what I keep thinking about is how much I want to figure out where you fit in my life and where I fit in yours. What we are, together. I need /you/, too. I love you. Why can't I come back for you?"

    He looks down at their hands, fingers entwined together. "I thought I was afraid you wouldn't love me if I changed, but... I'm not. If I start wearing skirts you'll just roll your eyes at me and tell me if they're unflattering. If I... sprouted feathers permanently you'd probably come up with some stupid nickname to make me feel better about it. Whatever I'm going to become, I trust that you'll accept that, so long as I'm /me/. So long as you can tell me I'm an idiot. I don't... I don't know how, but you /see/ me, and you love me. I don't... /get/ it." He laughs, and shakes his head. "I really don't. I pour out all this... bitter resentment at you and you just... listen. And love me. I do crazy magic that I know terrifies you and you... love me. You're facing the things you hate, for me, you're going to go into the lands of the dead when you don't understand magic, for me. So why /shouldn't/ I come back for you? Who else /deserves/ it more, right now?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "That's not what I'm trying to say, Jon. Maybe I'm not saying it right?" Cael asks uncertainly.
    "I want you to come back for you," she asserts firmly. "Not because I //need// you. Not because I made you promise, when I was on the verge of shattering under the weight of the stress, and my trauma. I want you to come back - because you want to go to that stupid party Martin's planning. Because you want to see Agnes grow. Because you want to be part of her life. Because you want to shape who she becomes - and yes... Because you want to see where this relationship goes. Because- because you want to go on that vacation afterwards, with all of us. Because you want to go on rollercoasters with me until we get sick. Because you want to listen to me complaining about how curry would be better with //noodles//." Just for a moment, an amused smile breaks across her features at her own ridiculousness.
    "I don't want to burden you with my //need,// Jon. I- I want you to decide what you want. You were there to help me through my shit. Do you want to come back? Because I swear I'll be there to help you through yours."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Cael," Jon says, and though he's smiling his voice cracks. "That's what I'm /saying/. You want to know what to do, right? You want a plan? This is what I'm saying. I want to come back. For you. Can't... can't that be the answer? Can't I want to come back because I love you? Am I not allowed to tell you that if you're down in the underworld and I'm whinging on about not wanting to come back to life you can remind me that I /promised/? That you need me? That you need /me/?"

    He draws in a shuddering breath. "I'm doing this for you. All of it. I hurt Michael, for you. I'm fighting the angels, for you. I'm /saving the universe/, for /you/. Because every time I think about stopping, and running away, and... and having a few blissful months with Martin and Agnes, I think about you getting up and going on despite what Michael did to you. I think about what you'll say if I give up. How /angry/ you'd be with me. What names you'd call me."

    He shakes his head. "And it's not... it's not like I'm... you didn't /ask/ for that. But it's... gods, I'm not saying this right!"

    He tosses his cigarette down and grinds it under his heel and then grabs her hand--avoiding the joint she holds--and looks down at her earnestly. "Martin comforts me. Martin will be there for me, when I come back, just like you will. But Martin isn't... /fire/. He doesn't... he doesn't /inspire/ me, Cael. Not... not the same way. I don't know if Martin could help me come back from the dead, all on his own, however much I might want to come back to him. He doesn't stir me to movement, to action. He's comfort, and rest, and you're... Cael, you make me want to try riding a motorcycle." He laughs. "I have never, /ever/ considered trying that, but you talk about it like it's so... /joyous/, I want to try. Do you see?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    When Jon remarks on the name she'd call him, a smile flits across her features as she offers, "I might start with 'fucktard.' Who the fuck knows where I'd end up from there, though?"
    She meets his eyes for a few moments, then tucks herself in against his chest, relief filling her and finally replacing the anxiety. He wants to live. She wasn't sure how she would have carried on if he didn't want to live. "That's because it is joyous, and I'll show you, someday. Better than any roller coaster - if you find the right road."
    She takes a deep breath in of his scent - cigarette smoke and all, and lets it out in a slow sigh. "I'll go down to Duat. I'll find you - and I'll make you come back," she promises. "Because we both deserve to find out what life together can be like when we're not under this sort of pressure."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon wraps his arms around her and closes his eyes, and sobs. "I'll learn how to make curry with noodles. /Just/ for you." He laughs. "Probably a Thai curry."

    He tightens his arms around her. "Remember. And remind me. When I try to give up, when I... when I'm scared. Remind me. Please. Make me get up, and keep moving. I... I do /want/ to live. Even when I thought Martin was dead, I found a way to want to live. Even a few minutes ago, I thought... do I really want to live? When the world's been cruel and painful and when it's only going to get /worse/?"

    He shudders a little. "But I do. I want to live. For a lot of reasons, but the most important for /planning/ is you. Because I know, I /know/ that will bring me back. And I want to come back. I do. I don't know what I'll be on the other end, or how long it'll take me to heal, but damn it, the world /owes/ me."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I'd like that," Cael agrees - a small smile on her features.
    "I will. I'll remind you," she promises. "You got me out of bed. I'll help you get out of bed, as well. No matter how dark things get... We can find our way through it if we're together. Yeah? I know I'm stronger with you beside me." And she sure likes to believe he's stronger with her beside him as well.
    "I want to be part of your life, Jon, and I don't care what that looks like."
    She's silent for a moment - her mind playing over an evening spent sitting on Jon and Martin's couch, staring unseeing at a glass of whiskey. "Martin insists that I'm family - that, uh... I should have a keycard to your quarters and everything," she admits.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "And you didn't run screaming?" Jon laughs. "That's progress, Becker. Caldwell should be proud."

    He reaches up to run a hand through her hair for a moment, sighs. "I don't know if Martin told you what 'family' meant to him, before me, but it wasn't... it wasn't anything /good/. He has fewer fond memories of family than I do. when we got married, we agreed to make it something new. Something better. People like us, we... we /have/ to... figure out new ways of being, becuase the old ones don't really fit. I mean, there's the old joke about straight people asking who's the man and who's the woman, and all the variations of... walking up to straight people asking who's the guitarist and who's the drummer." He smirks, briefly, then goes on, "He holds onto that now, though. To... making a family out of what we have in front of us. And anyone I love, /truly/ love, is going to be included in that, for him."

    He pulls back a bit. "I'd say don't feel pressured, but... Cael, you're going to be walking me down to surrender myself to Michael. You're going into the underworld after me. We're sleeping in the same bed. Ish. Should you really not have a /keycard/ to our /quarters/ so you can come help when I get back?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I wanted to," Cael admits quietly. "God, I wanted to. It frightened me." Which is ridiculous. She faces down angels - she willingly walks into Michael's office.
    She's afraid of being part of a family.
    "I still-" Cael says uncertainly. "I can't let go of this notion that- That I've only ever loved three people, and they've all died or..." been slated for death. "And Agnes is a //child//."
    After letting out a sigh she adds, "...but maybe you have a point about the fucking keycard."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "Think about it more after I come back," Jon murmurs. "Maybe that'll help dispel the hold your past losses have over you. When I die and come back and you /know/ it'll be okay."

    He bites his lip. "But, umm, if it helps? You... your love didn't... doom me. If anything..." He sighs. "If anything, Uriel probably did. I had a long talk with him the other day. I asked if he... cares about me, and he said... that I'm a part of him. That he inspired Gaea to create the Archive, that he knew I would exist before I was born, that he /loves/ me more than I can possibly imagine. And that he thinks that maybe, because /he/ set Gaea's Champion up to die... She chose one of his Watchers, in part, to spite him."

    He chuckles. "Not that I'm angry with Her, at all. I got past that... weeks ago. She was going to love /whichever/ mortal She chose, and it was going to hurt Her that they'd have to die, so maybe, /maybe/ She decided to twist the knife to Uriel, too. Make him understand what She's going througn."

    He sighs. "I just mean... there were beings whose love doomed me long before you came along."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael listens in silence, and remains that way in Jon's arms - trying desperately to sort out of her feelings, and let go of that lingering pain and guilt. The feeling that somehow she was responsible for Alis and her mother's deaths - that she was somehow the archetect of Jon's torment. "I'll try to," she promises. "It's hard - but I'll try at least, love - I promise. I want to let go of this, I just- I don't know."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I know it's hard. No rush." Jon sighs, and says, "You /will/ probably need that keycard. Assuming I don't wind up in medical for a while. So just... let's start there?"

    After a moment, he says, "Thank you, for... listening. Did it help you know what to do?" A pause. "And... could I have a puff or two of that? I, ahh..." He chuckles. "Maybe I should start trying to relax now, hmm? Before everything hits the fan."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "A little," Cael answers, straightening - and pulling away from Jon just enough that she can lean into his side - rather than directly into his chest. She offers over what's left of the joint, adding simply, "I can always light another if you need."
    With her head against his shoulder she adds, "You know I'm always happy to lend you a listening ear, yeah? You listen to my ramblings so often... it's only fair."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    "I know," Jon says. He takes the joint, and takes a puff--different than taking a drag on a cigarette, and he obviously /does/ know the difference. Closes his eyes for a moment.

    "It's hard, to open up. To trust that people won't turn away. When we rescued Agnes, the fear I saw... it was... it was that I'm some kind of monster. Inherently unlovable. That anyone that knows me, /really/ knows me, would turn away from me in disgust. That being lonely, scared, hurting... it's my own fault. I deserve it, because of what I am."

    He takes another puff of the joint. "The last battle's going to be Saturday. Friday night, why don't we go up on the roof, and have a drink, and smoke a couple of joints... and I can tell you..." He sighs. "Everything? I suppose. Even the thing I haven't told anyone but Martin. I did promise."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "I want to know it," Cael confirms quietly. "And honestly Jon... I can't imagine anything that would drive me away from the man," there's a brief pause before she says a bit wryly, "The person? Who stood by me at my worst. Who helped drag me out of the darkness of my own pain - and who stood up to everything heaven could throw at him. How could anything compare to all of that?" she asks.
    She reaches up to put her hand at the back of Jon's neck, trying to draw him gently down towards her for a kiss. "I've yet to see a monster - and I can think of you with nothing but love." She pauses a beat. "And the occassional exasperation."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon actualy chokes up a little at Cael correcting 'man' to 'person.' /He's/ not even there yet, and he has to pretty much finish off the joint while she's still talking, blinking away tears. "Even though I'm the /worst/, huh?" He laughs, and then sobs.

    "Gods, I love you," he manages, and then leans down to kiss her, slowly, though he's trying not to keep crying. Some day, they are not going to have so many tears to cry. Some day.

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Oh, God, the absolute fucking //worst//, Sims!" Cael agrees. "And I intend to never let you forget it."
    She returns the kiss, then murmurs quietly against his lips, "Love you too, you know." She smiles then adds, "God I'm glad I can that now... without panicking myself." That in itself was quite an accomplishment that, not too long ago, she would have thought impossible. "I love you," she repeats, just because she can.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Jon leans his forehead against Cael's for a moment, closing his eyes. Taking deep breaths. "I'm glad too," he murmurs.

    After a little while, he sighs. "We should go back. And I should call Martin. I don't know if I can tell him everything yet, but... I should at least say goodnight. I'll go see him Friday, okay? Go clear the air, just in case."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Yeah, don't be a dick. Tell him in person," Cael agrees, holding Jon tightly for a few moments longer. She wishes moments like this could last forever.
    But she knows they can't. Letting go, she steps away, to slip her hand back into his. "Okay," she agrees. "We head back up, you go be //not// a dick to your husband, I polish off that supply request I was supposed to finish before the meeting... And we get some sleep. Yeah?"