[ Letting his gaze linger on the other man, he looks away then, face scrunched up some. ]
Yeah, well.
[ Choosing not to finish that, he looks over to the fiery cat who sits there on Jesus' lap, hand held out to gesture for the cat to come over. When it does, fiery little paw touching his palm, it collapses into flame which John curls into his palm and puts out. Extinguishing it. ]
People have all kinds of advice on how to survive. Whatever you need to do to keep going, I understand.
[If it means he doesn't let Jesus get too close. If it means he needs to run, sometimes. If it means they get nights like this where they suck each other off or trade books.]
Reality. [He shrugs] There's no solution that works in every scenario. Survival is about adapting strategies to fit the situation. I'd be dead if I hadn't let myself get close to one person; I'd be alive if I'd kept my distance from another.
[ He remembers Jesus telling him about his death — that he'd died back in his world and so, being here, this is pretty much all he has left. He has nothing to go back to. ]
[ John's not always the greatest at these things, but. When Jesus' smile falters, he flicks a sliver of flame from his ring and tosses it at the other man, letting it wrap around him, a warm crackle of flame. ]
You're here now, right? That counts for something?
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[ He tries to shrug it off with a soft laugh, but it's also the truth. ]
I just feel like a lot of stuff is pointless. That staying alive is as good as it gets.
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What's a good day look like for you? Not an average day, a good one.
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[ Tilting his head some, he gives a shrug of a shoulder. ]
I try not to have those actually. Good things. Because it sucks when they eventually end up leaving. Or whatever.
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That must make it hard to enjoy them when they do come along, though.
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[ He shrugs as he looks over to Jesus. ]
Fire's known to be destructive after all.
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Besides. You didn't have to do this [the room] for me but you did.
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Yeah, well.
[ Choosing not to finish that, he looks over to the fiery cat who sits there on Jesus' lap, hand held out to gesture for the cat to come over. When it does, fiery little paw touching his palm, it collapses into flame which John curls into his palm and puts out. Extinguishing it. ]
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[If it means he doesn't let Jesus get too close. If it means he needs to run, sometimes. If it means they get nights like this where they suck each other off or trade books.]
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[ He asks, genuinely. For once not flippantly. ]
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[He loves people. He just keeps his distance from them, holds them at just enough of a distance he can enjoy them without risking anything.]
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[ He's dealt with the loss of someone he loved here. Something he told himself he wouldn't do in a place like this. ]
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Sometimes it's not the best option, though.
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[ What is healthy and what isn't in a place like this after all? ]
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Well. Least if you die here, you come back, so.
[ He shrugs, looking down to the bed. ]
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[It doesn't comfort Jesus, but he's not sure how to articulate why. There are a lot of reasons.]
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[ He shrugs, fingers twisting in the sheets a little. ]
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[He has no doubt now that John has died here, and that it wasn't good, it wasn't easy, it's not done yet.]
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I don't know? Lots of people die here, so ask one of them? Sure you'll get someone going on about it.
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My friend died here. But he brushed it off. He's just glad to be alive.
I'm not sure I'd handle it the same way.
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[ It shouldn't. Right? ]
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[So it shouldn't matter. He should be able to just accept it and move on. Carver has. And he believes Carver has the right attitude.
But.]
It's still effecting me.
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[ For a guess at least. ]
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[He tries to smile. It doesn't take.]
I wish I knew. Maybe I could put it to rest if I did.
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You're here now, right? That counts for something?
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