dualislogs | a new season has to begin

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a new season has to begin

WHO: Nick + OTA
WHAT: Catchall for January & February
WHERE: Various spots in the city
WHEN: Month of January, possibly some backdating
WARNINGS: binge drinking, swearing, mild suicidal ideation ... possibly more tbd

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Hey, you barely know me and you still tried to look out for me. We're friends, right?

[He's counting her as a friend, at least, and friends care about each other. There's no reason why he wouldn't care about her, which she can't see now, but it's clear as day to him. "Fundamentally broken" isn't showing up in his view yet, but even then, there are a lot of good broken people out there.]

Good plan. Let me get you some water. [He holds a hand out so he can help her up.] I'll stick around if you want.

Yeah ... we’re friends.

[and there’s something almost pained about how she says that, then goes quiet for a good few seconds before continuing:]

You’re real good at being a friend, y’know? Me, not so much. Never got much practice at it. Maybe you could tell me your secret sometime.

[she takes his hand for the help up, unsteady on her feet when she’s once again standing, and she ends up leaning into duke so she doesn’t fall over. with a soft, embarrassed chuckle, she then stands up straight and tips her gaze up to him, head swimming in a sea of whiskey.]

i do ... want you. Uh - to stick around, obviously. Tha’s what I meant.

[she actually wouldn’t say no to more than that - old coping techniques die hard - but even as drunk as she is, nick has enough awareness to guess that duke is too good of a guy to go for it.]

I choose good people to be friends with. That's the secret.

[He helps her up and stands himself, wrapping his arm around her once again. For a second the cute easygoing bartender he took out on a date last month comes back. It's a huge relief that Nick can be that girl again, even if it took way too much whiskey to get her there. It means she can relax, can want something, even if it's hard right now. She's way too drunk for anything to happen tonight, but that just means Duke will try to make sure she'll be okay.]

Sit down, I'm going to get you some water. And if you fall asleep, don't worry. I'll be here when you wake up.

[she understands what he's getting at - he thinks she's a good person. nick wishes she could believe that about herself the way he does. smiling sadly, she leans up to brush a kiss against his cheek, then wraps her arms around him in a tight hug.]

Thank you.

[reluctantly, she releases her hold on him and climbs into the bed, moving to curl up and settle on one side, leaving room for duke when he returns.]

[He'll believe it for them both tonight. Maybe she can believe it herself tomorrow. For now it's enough that she can smile at all.]

We're going to figure this out.

[He returns the bearhug and watches her settle on the bed, ducking into the kitchen and quickly sorting out the bags in the fridge before returning with a chilled bottle of water and that nausea standby of an empty pot, both of which he places on her nightstand.]

Try to drink a little of this, okay?

[she pushes herself back up to sitting again to accept the bottle of water, twists off the cap, and takes a sip. she can appreciate that he's prepared for her to be sick, but nick takes particular pride in the fact that she's never once thrown up after a night of too much to drink.]

I, um ... I don't know what I'm gonna do now. 'Mnot that great at planning shit, y'know?

[she's always had trouble envisioning a future for herself. without the heart to lead her, she doesn't know the first thing about how to fight this omniscient enemy.]

I keep thinkin' this is just a bad dream ...a nightmare, and I'm gonna wake up and see if Vergil wants to get coffee so I can tell him about this fucked-up shit my brain came up with while I was asleep, but ... [she halts, shaking her head, and inhales a deep breath to steady her quavering voice.] This ain't a dream. And he's gone.

[and it's your fault, a sinister voice hisses inside her head, and she tries to freeze it out by taking a huge gulp of water. all she manages to do is miscalculate and choke on the mouthful of liquid, cough and splutter.]

Christ, [she mutters, wiping at her mouth with the hem of her sleeve,] 'msorry you gotta see me like this. I know it ain't pretty.

Of course you don't know. It's day one. Plans don't happen until day three.

[Trying to plan right now would be pointless: there was just too much to process, too much raw emotion to work through, before that could happen. The way she talks about Vergil confirms it, she's shocked and to her they're not even dead yet.

He rubs her back as she coughs, settling on the bed beside her.]

This part's always going to suck. It's never pretty for anyone.

[she manages a dry laugh, not entirely sure if what he says is a joke.]

What, d’ya got some kinda five-day plan for getting over fucked-up shit or somethin’? Twelve easy steps?

[if only it were that easy. nick takes one more sip of water and screws the cap back on the bottle, then reaches over to take duke’s hand, if he’ll allow it. she’s more grateful he’s here with her than she can put into words.]

Y’sound like you’re an expert.

It's a three-day plan. Day one you survive, usually with the help of liquor. And I'd say you nailed that.

[He says it so simply it might read as a joke again, especially as he smiles back at her. But he's serious, it's the system he's come up with over the last year. She takes his hand and he squeezes hers, reassuring.]

I told you, the Troubles kill a lot of people.

Day two's mourning. Day three's making a plan. We're going to get you to day three.

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a new season has to begin

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