altimit | [Closed] misteaks' mistakes (catchall)

( He glances at Barrett from the corner of his eye, the words ringing familiar to a Morgan of the past - and, the Morgan that's here now, in a different way. )

... He's not. I think he lost interest in me.

( His gaze falls downward again, then distantly to the undecorated room ahead. )

... Is there an empty in you, too?

Good. Screw him for doing that to you.

[Even if the cycle still had some power on Morgan's shoulders, Barrett's glad that, at least from his description, he seems aware that he wasn't the one at fault.

...Barrett hopes not, at least.

...

The question earns silence at first, before the redhead carefully nods, his hangs writing together firmly in his lap.]

...I don't know what else to call it.

I think you're right. It's not quite the same. I felt really horrified for you, reading what you got forced to do. But...

A lot of what you said... it made sense.

( Oh... That spark on anger on his behalf strikes like a rung bell - a strange sensation that, for a moment, his anger didn't have to fill his body to overflow; others could hold onto it too, for him, so he wouldn't drown in this alone.

But it's only a moment. He knows he can't expect anyone to carry this with him.

(And some part of him fears it. If he doesn't have his anger, what else is here, what else does he got to fill himself in?) )

... Are you trapped in a cycle too?

( If it makes sense to Barrett, there's enough of an overlap somewhere for him to wonder; and if there's one thing that Barrett's repeated, it's inclination toward food - the taste of it, and indulgence... Barrett's cycle, he considers, might fix around eating.

Eating, and hating himself. )

[His features tighten in silence, jaw clenching just slightly as though he doesn't want to say what flashes through his head, keeping his focus on his hands.

To admit it meant he had to fix it, and to fix it meant he had to feel that absence and have nothing to replace it when it became overwhelming. What else was there, when his hard work made him feel like he would collapse and the only immediate extinguishing force just fueled the entire problem?

...

...]

...I tried to get help. Once. It all just came back when I had to leave.

So I don't... [A beat, a swallow, a slightly pained look to Morgan before it goes right back to his hands.] I don't trust myself to not... just stop with things that make me feel a certain way. I don't feel I'll ever be strong enough to do that.

( Mithrun is quiet.

Mithrun has found he sometimes has overlap in experiences with other people, strange as it feels when his life is so curious in its pattern. He's found that he can understand the feelings of another person, just a little bit, when they sit as a mirror to his own - even if the color of the reflection is not the same.

But he can't help anyone in the way he knows they needs. He's not blind. He knows enabling Sinclair's violence isn't what's best for him. He knows he can't challenge people in a way they probably need.

He can't see the world any different than the way he's lived it. So when Barrett says he's stuck, and he doesn't know if there's a way out for him, he thinks he understands. But he's not a full enough person to know what to do with this thing he gets.

All he can do is speak honestly. )

... I like you.

( It's probably the most affirmative statement Mithrun's spoken in awhile, as someone who phrases things in ambiguous negatives - I don't dislike it, I don't mind.

But here, even if Barrett hates himself, even if he's stuck, there's this. He isn't repulsive. Mithrun knows he used to be afraid of that - baring himself vulnerable, and having the other person turn their eyes away. )

You're still trying. Whether or not you're strong.

You're still enough for me.

( Even if that doesn't mean much to Barrett, compared to the esteem of his family. )

[...

He looks up slightly, surprise softening into something touched for a split second.]

...I like you, too.

[Maybe nothing close to what others might feel. But... there really was something to admire about Morgan, doubly so now that he'd just opened himself in a way Barrett feels he never could.

...]

I wish I could try a little harder. But I don't know how much else I can take. I don't want to snap doing something stupid, or something that should be good. Like, you know... kissing someone.

[A beat of silence passes again. Barrett looks down towards Mithrun's hand, brow tightening in thought, before he lets out a firm exhale and bodily turns on the bed to face Mithrun, gently scooping up his hand between both of his own.]

...You wrote before that you thought you deserved what happened. That you weren't nice, and that nobody would have taken you.

I've never felt heartbreak, so maybe I can't understand the pain that put you there. But... no matter the kind of person you were or are, you never deserved something that horrible.

[He thinks a lot of his own father and the things said to his entire family. The hatred still burns cold even if he feels he's moved on as best he can.]

What that person decided to do wasn't something anyone deserves. [Barrett squeezes at Morgan's hand, mouth thinning.] Don't give him the time of day to have that kind of say over you anymore.

You're worth more than that.

[He's enough, too.]

Edited (What the fuck was i smoking anyway word changes ) 2023-08-26 00:49 (UTC)

( He hadn't expected Barrett to turn the conversation to him, in turn, but maybe he should have expected it - neither of them hold the spotlight to themselves well. Mithrun can talk at length about himself without filter, but he's poor at exploring it, understanding it.

He listens to Barrett talk, his gaze fallen to their hands, and the way it feels strangely warm in Barrett's hold. )

... If I believe that, ( that he's worth something, ) will you believe that about yourself, too?

( It's not a gotcha. It's just a sense that maybe Barrett speaking about him is, in some way, speaking about himself, too. Their experiences aren't the same, but maybe there's some similarity in their language.

Maybe it wasn't his fault. He isn't so sure. But he understands there is intent behind what he says. And Barrett's words do land, even if Mithrun doesn't have the words to answer them with, yet. )

... What is it you want to do?

( He asks this again, while they are sober. Not necessarily about kissing, just - Barrett keeps talking about trying, doing things he thinks he must do. He says he doesn't know how much more he can take. That he's afraid of snapping. So, what is there, under obligation, under pretense? )

[He, perhaps expectedly, has a hard time nodding his head in return. It's not quite the same context... but he thinks he gets what Morgan means here.]

...Yeah. I have too much of life out there I want to be around for. I can't do that if I'm feeling sorry for myself.

[...

What does he want?

The default answers come up. Sports. Food. Family. Not wrong answers. But... easy answers. Things he likes. Things he focuses on.

Things that aren't him.

...

He goes very still, almost as though he doesn't know how to answer. What answers that come, come quietly.]

I want to be with the people I care about. [But no, that's not just it. He's open enough about that.

...]

I want to smile more.

[Why, though?]

I want to trust myself. I don't want to have regrets.

[Why, though?]

I... want to make the people I care about feel proud of me. Even if I screw up. [His eyes screw shut.] Even if I really, really screw up.

[Even if he feels that it's not entirely deserved. Just like Lily.]

Edited 2023-08-26 03:41 (UTC)

( He lets Barrett work it out, his faintly wry smile fading back into neutrality. It's not a thing he can rush, or even a thing he can guide someone toward. It's not always a thing a person knows about themself, either. Mithrun doesn't know it, but even he doesn't know the thing he wants - he thinks he does, but a person isn't always a reliable narrator unto themself.

It's a good thing, that Barrett can dig deeper, and then dig deeper still. At least, deeper than Mithrun can. )

... It sounds like you want to be happy.

( All those individual, concrete ingredients put together to form something abstract - at least, that's how it looks from Mithrun's monocular view.

Why he points it out, though, is because happiness is a thing you obtain for yourself. It's selfish and wanting - and he thinks Barrett's probably pulling himself apart between guilt and expectation, real and imagined. He could do to be a little more selfish. Wanting too much, in excess - they both seem to know how that goes. But there's not point in giving yourself up for something, someone else without anything left for you. Not unless you're the kind who take pleasure in martyrdom - and not a lot of people are.

He doesn't know Barrett's family. He can't say for sure what they're like, if they want all these things for him. He knows Levi the barest amount. But... )

Would you believe them, if they said they were proud of you?

( Do you believe them, if they have? )

Edited 2023-08-26 05:34 (UTC)

[Happiness?

Isn't he happy, though? He feels he should be. His family is together, he's doing what he loves. He can eat a lot of delicious food. Stressors aside, he should be happy.

So why isn't he happy with himself?

...

The other answer, at least, comes immediately.]

Yeah. I would. None of them would lie about something like that.

I just wonder if they'll change their minds someday.

... Why? Because you think your quality of character will disappoint them?

Or because you think you'll do something that'll make them turn away?

( Failing expectations, perhaps, is the first; or fearing a repeat of the Lily incident, some situation where the blood - metaphorical or not - by his own belief, is on his hands, is the second.

Or... both? )

...Both.

[He lets out a long breath through his nose, trying to pull himself back together. He just told Morgan he didn't want to go feeling sorry for himself. This isn't time to go wallow.]

I know it's not my job to control their feelings. I just want them to be happy and safe. I don't have a lot of ways I can help them do that.

There's no use worrying about that, though. All I can focus on is what I can do

[Another breath.]

...Thank you, though.

... Do you need to do anything?

( Barrett wants to transition, and Mithrun will let him. Just, in a minute. He thinks this it the bit he's wanted to needle at, and couldn't figure out what it was until Barrett said it. )

Maybe they just like that you're there.

( If his family's decent people, well - Mithrun's image of a decent person is someone like Tylor, or Sinclair, or even Barrett himself. People who don't ask for a lot, and maybe give away more of themselves than they should, and they like just being around the people they care about.

He won't assume everyone in that family's the same - there were a lot of them, that he recalls. Maybe there's a couple bad, bitter eggs that judge Barrett, that resent him. But if that's how it is, then so be it. )

... Decide what you see, and accept it.

( Whether they love him, or hate him. Whether he wants to take care of them, even if they hate him. Whether he wants to love them, regardless of how their relationship may one day change.

He can't promise Barrett they love him, or always will. Friends and family won't always love you, won't always accept you - no matter how compassionate, how caring. Mithrun would know. They're words that would ring hollow.

But it would be a mistake, he thinks, to focus on those other people at all. This is about Barrett. It doesn't need to be about them. )

Worrying about what could be will kill you, before the future ever comes.

Edited 2023-08-26 07:31 (UTC)

...I owe them more than that, though.

[To just stop and "be" while the rest of his family tries to work hard for their goals? He thinks he might just wither away if he were to do that.]

I know they love me. You don't even need to ask. My brothers and I fought way too hard to stay together for me to not know that.

...But you're right. Worrying isn't going to solve anything. I really don't like to do it if I can help it.

[Thus why he is desperately trying to turn this discussion onto a different track. This wasn't ever supposed to just be about him, and that the talk has dwelled on him so long is making him feel strange and a little too vulnerable. He can't be like Mithrun, he supposes. He can't bear himself openly without the razor sharp burn of his regrets settling in.]

It's not like I brought this up to talk about myself too much, anyway. What you told me before, though...

[His eyes grow bright and serious towards Mithrun.]

I wanted to make sure to take it seriously. I think... the worst thing to be, when you're empty, is feeling lonely with it.

[His hand is squeezed one last time, before Barrett finally withdraws his touch.]

So I'm glad you told me. I don't want you to regret that.

Edited 2023-08-26 14:25 (UTC)

( He feels the squeeze, and the touch withdraw, and he lets the sentiment sit, for a moment.

Yeah, he knows Barrett wanted to talk about him, but - he's not good at the feelings stuff. Barrett's got some mental roadblocks after a point, and he's got the willingness to work through it even if he's struggling, but Mithrun can't even see the road ahead.

He isn't sure what to say here. He knows the probably correct thing to say - the things he would've said two years ago, before the bullet got him. Thanks for being with me. Thank you for listening. I feel so much less lonely with you. Things that would make the other person feel effective - and like him more. That's all he wanted. Adoration, even from lessers. Some sort of external validation that he was as worthy as he wanted to believe he was.

But, even back then, they rang hollow. )

... I might have always been empty.

( He says this quietly, like he's thinking aloud, as his gaze settles into where Barrett's hands were on his own. But maybe that's why he had become so fixed on Niamh. She felt like his only shot at a life with someone who would fill that empty - who'd understand him.

Of course she turned away. He wasn't going to fill her empty in turn. It was a selfish love. )

... I won't.

( Regret telling Barrett, he means. He can at least speak of himself with certainty. He says this with his voice finally at proper volume, gaze turning back up to Barrett's bright one. )

You're the first person I've talked to about... the things he did. ( Regarding the indulgence, and so on. ) It's not bad talking to you.

...I'm glad. [That he can talk about it.] I wouldn't want to force something like that out of you. That's not what a good friend always needs to do.

It takes a lot to trust someone. So... know that it stays between us, okay?

[Nothing's leaving this room, as far as he is concerned. Vulnerability was always so horrifying, even with people that felt so safe. He's not sure whether courage had led Mithrun to this, or a need to talk, or simply a lack of decision either way when asked earlier. But at least for Barrett, right now, it doesn't matter. It's sharing in the hurt of another all the same.]

...Do you think you felt this way as a kid, too? Back with your brother and your parents? You were... really, really unhappy back then.

( He's quiet for a minute, when he brings up the past. Not because the past hurts, but because he feels - nothing when he thinks about it, and how it reverberates empty in his chest. It's worse feeling nothing when you know you used to feel so much, however stupid your feelings were. )

... I used to be the golden child, but I was illegitimate. My parents hated my brother for his sickness and disability, but he was of purer blood. My brother loved me, but...

( He trails off, not sure where he was going with that. )

... It's hard to describe. My parents always spoke of other people as less than us. The way they put it, it felt like... if I couldn't prove myself, people would consider me less than human, too. And I was already at a disadvantage because I wasn't considered a real member of the family. So I pushed myself.

Most rumors claimed my brother was the illegitimate son, because he didn't look like us. But there were some rumors that it was me. I guess was always on edge, worried someone would find out, and I'd have to accept others saw me as less.

... Well, the irony is that most people I knew don't like me after my accident either, so it was pointless worrying so much about it.

Edited 2023-08-27 01:06 (UTC)

...

You sound like you don't really like yourself, either.

[It's a quiet remark. Just as with the memory he'd seen, much of this feels far over his head, a world of such precise and vicious expectations and rules that Barrett wonders how anyone could be happy with themselves.]

Why does blood matter so much? You're not a poodle for a dog show. You're family. That... shouldn't matter.

[It stays hesitant, gentle. Not a condemnation of what was fact, but voicing his confusion to a force of Mithrun's life that feels absolutely nonsensical.]

...Is that how you think now? That you're less?

Because you're not.

( A beat, as he considers. He knows Barrett is trying to reassure. )

If I'm less, it's not for my blood. I do have less in me than others.

But I don't know if it matters if I'm less. I am what I am and I'll do what I'll do, regardless of how other people see me.

...

It does matter.

[Just not in the way that that family would say. Barrett doesn't want to think about it. He can feel his throat growing hot at the idea.

A hand lifts to touch at Morgan's shoulder, a brief but abandoned attempt to lift to his jawline, before abandoning it.]

People can think what they want. But this isn't about them.

You're not an object, and you're not less or more than anyone else. No matter what your family's told you. You're just Morgan. You're someone that feels and does and made choices and has a lot more to make. Not just some lesser someone because someone else decides your blood is worth more than you.

[A beat passes. He tries to catch Morgan's eyes with a duck down of his shoulders, the sudden stone in his own softening.]

I'm enough for you, right?

You're enough for me, too.

( Ah - Barrett catches his gaze as he ducks down, and Mithrun is borrowed from his thoughts by the sight of Barrett's expression softening, and his stubborn affirmation. It takes from Mithrun whatever phrase he was coming up with as his answer - words of indifference toward himself. And now he finds himself unclear of how he - wants to respond. Unclear on how what Barrett says makes him feel, even though they were words he'd lobbied at Barrett earlier.

What does he say here?

Mithrun is quiet. What comes out, eventually, is: )

... Will you be free after your game?

( The phrase is ambiguous - could mean either the same day after the game, or the days after. He looks at Barrett, waiting. )

[...

He wants to say yes. It's... strange, that he wants to say yes.]

Not right away. Coach time and cleanup... I'll probably need to do a recovery jog.

[His thumb runs against Morgan's shoulder carefully.]

But... I want to see everybody afterwards. My family and others. They'll probably take me home for the night.

I won't be back at practice until Wednesday, either. So I'll have some time.

[Somewhere. He could make time.]

Why?

Edited 2023-08-27 16:57 (UTC)

( He doesn't know, exactly, what he wants to say to Barrett, about that whole talk on worth. He can't find the shape of any of the words when he tries to sound them out on his tongue.

So this isn't, exactly, what he means to say. But it's the words he can find, the most accessible sentiment that's pulsing at the back of his throat, impatient to be said. The gentle feeling of his thumb at his shoulder helps him get it out. )

... Show me around Berkeley. ( When there's time. If there's time. ) I don't live there. I've never really been.

( It's not so intimate as asking for a meal - which doesn't sit right given them topic they opened with, anyway - and it isn't so personal like going to the beach, or the movies.

But it is a request to see him, and spend more time with him than planned. If he wants. )

Edited 2023-08-27 20:22 (UTC)

[...

He gives a hesitant, breathy laugh, his smile bright with surprise even if it's softened under his normal countenance.]

Sure. If you're gonna be in town, we can go sightseeing a little.

It's mostly museums and parks. But the beach and marina are nice, and they have a lot of good restaraunts. There's a local little bakery near the coastal part of the university, too.

[...

It sounds like fun. He hasn't thought much about fun just walking around Berkeley for a while. Booker's been so busy with his classes, and he hasn't had the time to spare for nights with his team because of how much extra exercise he's had to throw into the mix the last few weeks...]

...Whatever you have the energy for. There's a lot we can try.

[A beat. He chuckles a little, letting his touch slide down Morgan's arm, as though he means to pull away but can't quite commit.]

Nowhere to try Smurfs, though. Sorry.

( He feels Barrett's hand slide down, and he has a vision of reaching down to touch it - just fingers brushing along the back of the hand. Nothing too committed. A tease, even. Because that's what he might've done some years back. It's as easy as picturing as somebody else act.

But what about him? What would he do, as he is now? He's been conscious of how Barrett's hands have kept against him, mostly, and how he's failed to act. )

... We can do as much as there's time for.

( He gazes up at Barrett's bright smile, and finding this look is better on him, even if those painful things were things he - both of them - need to one day address. )

But you'll have to show me something that's as good as having a Smurf.

( Without explanation, his hands lifts some from his lap, palm up, as if offering for Barrett to take it. It's terrible of him, offloading the language of touch for the other person to fully initiate - he's not a native speaker. He doesn't know the words yet. But, he's... trying. )

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CW: ED for the meta just to be safe

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