[ He's gonna make tea because he knows by now that if Nick's reaching out it's because he's really not doing great.
He's also setting out a bunch of misshapen gingerbread men. They taste okay, Caleb had just never attempted baking before and the shapes turned out looking only vaguely human. ]
( nick takes the full thirty minutes to arrive even though he really doesn't need it, sat outside the building and smoking for at least half of that before he decides to come up. he's tired, and he looks it. there's only so much that inherent healing can work with, after all.
despite the distinctly miserable vibes, nick still grins when he arrives and holds out a bottle of wine of some kind, hastily grabbed on his way out of the door and decorated with a sloppy bow. )
Happy Christmas or whatever, I don't know what this is.
[ caleb never knows what to expect from nick, sometimes it's manic energy, sometimes it's misery waves. luckily he's good enough at it by now it doesn't feel like being ran over by the world's saddest bus. ]
Hey, thanks.
[ he takes the bottle and motions nick in. there's tea and cookies on the coffee table, and a box of tissues. doctor bright always had a box of tissues in her office in case someone needed a good cry. ]
( he picks up a cookie on the way to the seat, snapping off a wonky arm as he settles with his legs folded up underneath him. it's hard not to heave out a sigh, but he manages, squinting at the decoration on the gingerbread instead of looking at caleb. sure, nick was the one who reached out in the first place, but that doesn't make him any better at actually communicating. )
... okay, we can answer that question if you want to. Is that why you wanted to talk?
[ nick's drinking is not not a problem, but caleb's pretty sure it's not The Problem at the moment, and he doesn't want to go into a whole checklist when it's obvious there's something more important going on. ]
( it's related but it's hardly the problem, but it's a hell of a lot easier to say that out loud than anything else. he inspects the broken off cookie chunk for a moment, takes a bite and chews thoughtfully to buy himself another couple of seconds.
he's not any closer to a breakthrough by the time he's swallowed, but he's got to say something, so he just...starts talking. )
I don't know if you saw— it was on the network, that Hope girl? Not everyone saw, I know some people don't look on purpose, cause sometimes it's like...fun drinking game never have I ever or whatever, and sometimes it's like...fucking...assault or dead bodies. Like the worst fucking variety box in the world, right?
He's like--I don't know. Family. Like, he's not, but he's...more of a dad than my actual dad. Michael is...he's the fucking best, and his body was just like, it was just lying there.
( he snaps off the other arm while he talks. the legs follow soon after, one after the other, and then he trades the handful of broken chunks for the tea cup instead. )
I think— I mean, a lot kind of happened all at once, and it just...it was a lot, and I kind of had like, a breakdown I guess?
Yeah. I didn't really lose it until after he got back.
( nick doesn't think the timeline actually matters that much, but he specifies anyway, inspecting the cup in his hands now instead. anything that will hold his attention to his lap, really. it's just a lot easier to talk this way. )
I knew he wouldn't remember me, right? Cause like...it happened to me, I know what this whole thing is like, and I thought I was ready for it. But then he came home, and he doesn't know me, and I know it's not going to last forever, but I just kept thinking about it, and thinking about how he was killed, and Kyle is so fucked up about it, and then it's like, I died, and I can't stop thinking about that either, so I just--walked out.
( told, actually, and nick had very deliberately walked out of the house anyway. but honestly he's too tired to go into that right now, so instead he's sticking with the abridged version. )
And before that some asshole I thought I was friends with put pictures up of me. And then before that it was fucking...jail, and before that I died, and before that it was that fucked up camp, and that fucking gang war, and Logan, and— it just, it never ends.
( nick shrugs, scrubs a hand over his face. he already misses being drunk, even if kyle scraping him out of a filthy bar out of his mind on anything he could get his hands on was one of the more shameful experiences in nick's recent memory. )
I just want to feel like--a person again. Does that even make sense?
Yeah— you've been going through the motions, but you don't feel like yourself?
[ caleb's been there. his problems were just closer to mundane; sure, a secret government organization was keeping tabs on him, but caleb would choose that over this place any day. ]
I don't know what myself even is. If it's this I don't want it to be.
( his fingers twitch around the mug and he itches to do something that isn't just sitting here, trying to string together sentences about himself that he barely understands on a good day.
but. if this is it he doesn't want it to be. it's probably the most honest thing that nick has ever said with caleb. he needs to try something different, because avoidance in all its many forms hasn't gotten him very far at all. )
It hurts like...everyone around me, when I'm fucked up like this. You know? It's not just me any more, I keep like--forgetting that. I just want to be like...a real, fucking person.
You are a person, Nick. You feeling like this is a normal human response, like— I'm feeling what you're feeling, and it makes sense, and it also makes sense you don't want it, but you're not giving yourself enough credit.
[ because nick's a very impulsive guy, and he's here with caleb instead of getting passed out drunk in some shitty dive bar. caleb recognizes the effort, admires it, even. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
time to reconsider career choices
i'm free whenever. you ok?
if nick doesn't make caleb want to quit at least once a month i'm doing it wrong
idk very much not good, actually.
he misses his therapist every day
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i think probably environment matters. maybe? i think so.
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is now actually ok i don't want to like idk throw everything out of whack i'm not gonna jump off a bridge if i dont speak to someone today
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ok give me like idk 30
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[ He's gonna make tea because he knows by now that if Nick's reaching out it's because he's really not doing great.
He's also setting out a bunch of misshapen gingerbread men. They taste okay, Caleb had just never attempted baking before and the shapes turned out looking only vaguely human. ]
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despite the distinctly miserable vibes, nick still grins when he arrives and holds out a bottle of wine of some kind, hastily grabbed on his way out of the door and decorated with a sloppy bow. )
Happy Christmas or whatever, I don't know what this is.
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Hey, thanks.
[ he takes the bottle and motions nick in. there's tea and cookies on the coffee table, and a box of tissues. doctor bright always had a box of tissues in her office in case someone needed a good cry. ]
Have a seat. The cookies aren't burnt, just ugly.
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( he picks up a cookie on the way to the seat, snapping off a wonky arm as he settles with his legs folded up underneath him. it's hard not to heave out a sigh, but he manages, squinting at the decoration on the gingerbread instead of looking at caleb. sure, nick was the one who reached out in the first place, but that doesn't make him any better at actually communicating. )
So I think, like, maybe I'm an alcoholic?
( it seems...as good a place to start as any. )
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[ nick's drinking is not not a problem, but caleb's pretty sure it's not The Problem at the moment, and he doesn't want to go into a whole checklist when it's obvious there's something more important going on. ]
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( it's related but it's hardly the problem, but it's a hell of a lot easier to say that out loud than anything else. he inspects the broken off cookie chunk for a moment, takes a bite and chews thoughtfully to buy himself another couple of seconds.
he's not any closer to a breakthrough by the time he's swallowed, but he's got to say something, so he just...starts talking. )
I don't know if you saw— it was on the network, that Hope girl? Not everyone saw, I know some people don't look on purpose, cause sometimes it's like...fun drinking game never have I ever or whatever, and sometimes it's like...fucking...assault or dead bodies. Like the worst fucking variety box in the world, right?
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[ it was not fine. caleb's still a relatively sheltered guy, murder is still brand new and not something he enjoys thinking about.
choosing to give therapy in duplicity means his comfort doesn't really matter, though. ]
I'm sorry. He's your roommate, right?
[ he's never met michael personally, but nick rambles and caleb does his best to absorb it. ]
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( he snaps off the other arm while he talks. the legs follow soon after, one after the other, and then he trades the handful of broken chunks for the tea cup instead. )
I think— I mean, a lot kind of happened all at once, and it just...it was a lot, and I kind of had like, a breakdown I guess?
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[ there's probably a professional way to word that but caleb can't think of it. ]
Is he back? Michael?
[ caleb hopes he is, this will be harder to navigate if he isn't. ]
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( nick doesn't think the timeline actually matters that much, but he specifies anyway, inspecting the cup in his hands now instead. anything that will hold his attention to his lap, really. it's just a lot easier to talk this way. )
I knew he wouldn't remember me, right? Cause like...it happened to me, I know what this whole thing is like, and I thought I was ready for it. But then he came home, and he doesn't know me, and I know it's not going to last forever, but I just kept thinking about it, and thinking about how he was killed, and Kyle is so fucked up about it, and then it's like, I died, and I can't stop thinking about that either, so I just--walked out.
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[ with piles upon piles of unresolved trauma it's an achievement nick's not blowing up more destructively. caleb wouldn't be handling it any better. ]
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( told, actually, and nick had very deliberately walked out of the house anyway. but honestly he's too tired to go into that right now, so instead he's sticking with the abridged version. )
And before that some asshole I thought I was friends with put pictures up of me. And then before that it was fucking...jail, and before that I died, and before that it was that fucked up camp, and that fucking gang war, and Logan, and— it just, it never ends.
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[ caleb missed the pictures, he's very selective about which network posts he clicks on. ]
Do you think a list would help? Shit that's happened and writing down what we can do to handle it? Maybe it'll help you let go of some of the weight.
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( nick shrugs, scrubs a hand over his face. he already misses being drunk, even if kyle scraping him out of a filthy bar out of his mind on anything he could get his hands on was one of the more shameful experiences in nick's recent memory. )
I just want to feel like--a person again. Does that even make sense?
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[ caleb's been there. his problems were just closer to mundane; sure, a secret government organization was keeping tabs on him, but caleb would choose that over this place any day. ]
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( his fingers twitch around the mug and he itches to do something that isn't just sitting here, trying to string together sentences about himself that he barely understands on a good day.
but. if this is it he doesn't want it to be. it's probably the most honest thing that nick has ever said with caleb. he needs to try something different, because avoidance in all its many forms hasn't gotten him very far at all. )
It hurts like...everyone around me, when I'm fucked up like this. You know? It's not just me any more, I keep like--forgetting that. I just want to be like...a real, fucking person.
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[ because nick's a very impulsive guy, and he's here with caleb instead of getting passed out drunk in some shitty dive bar. caleb recognizes the effort, admires it, even. ]
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