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TG: this is going to be fucking stupid isnt it

[want to get in touch with Dave? you can leave a TEXT, VOICE, or VIDEO message — or alternatively, he shouldn't be too hard to track down in person.]

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[No doubt about it, the place he's heading to during their vacation is going to be Vista Virs.

Despite being a consistently balmy scorching hot, it's where Ryuji found a whole lot of peace and identity. Becoming a hunter, fitting in with the Kitsune here like a found family, and.

Coming home to Dave when the sun began to set.

Their shitty little motel room with motorcycle parts strewn about as Ryuji continued to collect and build or modify his own to be a little bit better than the last. The warm mornings of waking up and realizing that, at some point in the middle of the night he had to get rid of a t-shirt since he was sweating too much.

It's a small thing, but it's also a great thing. Normalcy in the midst of a highly unusual life.

He looks over at Dave, clouded eyes and all, as he cronches down on some street food in the middle of the market, and he realizes how fucking lucky he actually is, despite it all. He often finds himself here, too, as it catches him off guard how much capacity he has in his heart to love one singular person in this universe or any other.

And a lot's on his mind. Something he desperately wants to talk about after the events of Niel's life were laid bare to everyone in the Bureau.]

Sun's 'bout to set. Wanna check it out from the bridge over the oasis?

[this is fairly in line with the sort of climate Dave's used to, too. well — Vista Virs is probably somewhere in between the sweaty stink of Houston and the dry, angry magma heat of lohac.]

[both of which Dave managed just fine in — even though he's opted to bring along a few of Bender's patented Endlessly Spawning Breadsticks in favor of the local fare. now, Vista Virs feels a lot more familiar to him, too.]

[though, that's not really important. since they got back from Wonderland, he's been watching Ryuji carefully, following his lead on figuring out things to do, and whether or not he's up for talking, when it makes sense. it's a mixture of feeling like that's the right thing to do, and ... not really being sure if there's anything else he can do. how do you begin to make sense of losing yourself? Dave still hasn't figured that out for himself, after Lyrabar.]

[undoing each other's hurt isn't an option. they've already hashed that out over the past 15 months.]

Yeah, I'm game.

[working through it instead, no matter how hard it might be, is the direction they'll have to start walking next. and Dave, with all the love he's got for Ryuji, has strapped on the hiking boots.]

[lead the way, Ryuji.]

[It's true, isn't it? Dave lost his mind in Lyrabar, Ryuji lost his body in Wonderland, and when you put the two together it all adds up to one seriously fucked up time for either of them. But something he agreed to doing was owning up to his inside thoughts, the ones that ticked forward too quick that he never found a moment to come back to when his head was moving too fast and it was hard to settle down on one thing or the other. At least, to visit it again or try to get better at acknowledging when things weren't okay.

When you sum up the events of their lives and the things they've been forced to endure... it's hard to really say that either of them deserved a lot of stuff that happened to them. It's hard to slow down the cogs that turn kids into adults when there's a war being waged against a cosmic force they can't touch or see, and, yeah. Ryuji is starting to feel that fatigue.

Maybe Dave's seen it as a slight calming down over the last year, or maybe noticed that Ryuji hesitates a fraction more than he had in the past, and maybe some of that is having something really worth fighting for, but at the same time... he's only nebulously, what? 19? 20? the narrative has no idea how to count time anymore, but he's been through enough where he just wants to stop feeling like there's a shark waiting for him right below the meniscus line of the water below.

Literally and figuratively, of course.

Maybe he'll be able to express that, too, but for now, he's just leading the both of them to a place that isn't in the middle of the market, because there's something on his chest that he needs to let go of before another stone or twelve is added onto his chest in reprimand during the next mission.

His finger hovers over the play button as he finds a good enough spot that overlooks the water and the way the sun angles down just in the right perpendicular way that the line over the horizon begins to shy in purples and oranges.]

Shit, I uh. I probably shoulda brought a blanket or somethin'. Sorry, I'll do the laundry if our pants get all mucked up sittin' here like this.

[He sucks in his cheek.]

Hey, I. Uh. I mean. Everything okay lately? I know we don't really, like. Y'know. Maybe I don't ask that enough or somethin' when I should.

[for as well as they do work together, for all the amazing things Dave can list that has come out of knowing, and then dating, Ryuji, this is the one thing they've been kind of stumbling on, hasn't it? they've acknowledged it before. the remnants of their pasts that are right there, the things Dave, at least, has asked to put on hold because hiding like he always has was easier.]

[and it has worked. tiny steps for two boys who, for their own but still wildly similar reasons, struggle with expressing themselves. and for Dave's part, it's hard to imagine where he would have wound up if Ryuji weren't there to accept him for what he is, all the weird and painful parts he's been able to talk about included. he sure as hell wouldn't be as good of a person as he is right now.]

[which is why Dave knows they should be having these conversations, even if he still isn't entirely sure how to best handle them. you can't hold the pause button forever, not when the universe seems intent on piling on more shit, like it's daring you to reach a breaking point. like losing your body. like losing your mind.]

[he stares off at the water below them for a minute, quiet.]

I don't know. [maybe frustratingly vague, but at least it's honest. Dave tries to narrow down his thoughts.]

I mean, there's a lot that's happened that I wanna try to hash out. Like, an old-fashioned feelings jam. I just ... haven't really known how, I guess? And most of my thoughts are pretty centered over wanting to ask if you're okay, too.

[A bull in a fine China shop would have better feelings jams than what Ryuji feels capable of performing on adequately. He knows it's important to talk, but sometimes he wishes everything could be hashed out with just sitting side by side like this, an understanding of all the things riling up in his head without having to go through the rough part of dissection and deployment, but Dave's always made him feel like he can do more than just staying still and stagnant.

That doesn't stop him from taking Dave's hand and yanking it slightly upward, to his forehead, and concentrating real hard.]

Hrngh....

[And gives up.]

Nope, can't transmit everything telepathically.

[A small tug of a smile forms around the corner of his lips, a casual up-nod to the fact that they're still gonna do things their own way, stumbling or casually walking through all the gates as they usually do.

But he's not quite letting go of Dave's hand, he's mulling it over in his own even as he admits to not being able to send all his thoughts through cosmic time space, as his fingers brush past each knuckle, counting down in a way, before he gets to the pinky.

His tone gets a little more centered.]

I'm kinda. I mean, I'm not really okay.

[Despite telling everyone that he is when they ask, of course.]

Last mission hit, uh. Really fuckin' close to home and made me think about a bunch of shit I haven't thought about in a few years. [This has to be what, the 4th? Maybe 5th time he's dropped the f-word in front of Dave on on his own accord.]

I know we said months ago we could hit the pause button on a conversation that we started 'n all, but... I dunno if I'll ever really be ready or you'll ever really be ready for it? Man, I shouldn't put words in your mouth.

It's just, uh. I dunno if I can really keep goin' on without admitting it happened. That kid, y'know? He, uh.

[He looks out and downward down into the water.]

Sorry, I really need to hit the play button if it's cool with you.

[he doesn't exactly smile at Ryuji taking a shot at the forehead-to-hand mind meld, but there is something of a soft familiarity on his features anyway. he seems like he's building a joke sandwich — diffusing his own anxieties with a joke, giving him the mental space to say something really vulnerable, and, if it gets to be too much, slap a slice of joke right on top to play it off.]

[it's a tactic Dave's particularly good at, too. though, when he was much younger, his was more like a melt kind of deal. the sort where you couldn't tell the joke from what he was truly feeling.]

[and even though there's something comforting in that, and Ryuji holding on to his hand makes him instinctively draw himself closer, there's also a pang, too. the kind you get when you're given an open-faced sandwich, and Dave now knows they're about to ... probably have one of the most serious talks they've ever had. brand new territory. that's always sort of scary, both of their about-to-be-spoken histories aside, but maybe hanging on to each other while they go through it is sturdy enough by itself.]

[because he's not going to say no to that request.]

It's cool. [all of it. he doesn't think he needs to say much more than that, a gentle encouragement, but he give Ryuji's hand a light squeeze, to offer just a little more.]

[Outwardly, he never understands why he ever has such guttural, visceral fears about talking to Dave about tougher topics. He knows that the person next to him will always have his back about anything, and he trusts him more than he even trusts himself. But that's not really how traumatic experiences shape a person into who they are, is it? Ryuji's always just powered through everything, simply dealing with things as they come and trying hard to keep his exterior firm about the stuff that really, really pierces through. It's why he can be the ass of so many jokes and take it in stride. He can take punches from his friends, let it roll off his skin. He's used to that exact thing; wearing his heart on his sleeve so that no one can hurt him more than he's already been hurt.

He accepted everything, and kept trying to find room, yeah, exactly like that. Open up space for vulnerability. Make a sandwich out of everything and maybe lob off the crusts, but at least put it on the plate. Ryuji had never really thought about really telling anyone more than the time he mentioned it to Akira. He thought that it was over; finally, one person that he could feel okay with saying it out loud to. He thought that was everything he needed, and then he fell wildly in love and, as if by way of apology to Dave to explain the reason he does the things he does the way he does them, finds himself struggling to answer.

And it's not just trust, it's deeper than that. It's knowing, without a shred of doubt in his bones, that Dave went through something similar. It's a burning hate for a world that can scar you in your childhood so deeply that it ends up radically altering the path of who you are- blond spiky hair and a penchant for telling the world to fuck off, or keeping an eternally calm poker face beneath a pair of impenetrable sunglasses.

Ryuji pulls his lips together, frowning slightly like it's a diver's momentum that brings them up to the springboard, and breathes inward.]

I dunno why it's so hard to talk about it. It's not even a thing about bein' afraid of looking like I'm weak or, just sad and terrified that you might figure out I'm damaged goods or anything like that.

Like shit, I know you better than that, and you know me better than that.

But sometimes I just... I think like. There's a part of my life that doesn't exist anymore, and I'd be perfectly chill with never lookin' back at it and just... I dunno, it's dumb, but just moving forward and getting past all of it? But then things happen where I fail, or just, god, even the dumbest, smallest thing happens and it's like I'm still right there. With this giant... shit, I dunno, like a freaking anchor around my ankle or something, just reelin' me back down on my face.

But I guess, what I'm tryin' to say, is like. The shit Niel went through as a kid, no one should ever have to go through. No one. And I kinda think you 'n I both know that we both kinda have, and it's just. [His voice markedly gets shakier, like he doesn't know where to go next, but knows he needs to, and has to do it anyway.]

It's so fucked up how much it still goddamn hurts.

[well over a year later, and it's still so fucking wild to have Dave's own thought processes mirrored right back at him. considering how often it occurs to him how similar they are, you'd think it'd be completely expected by this point.]

[back on the meteor, back in a Sburb session that was falling apart and fizzling out, he'd casually, or crassly, tossed out a fact or two about his upbringing. it hadn't really gone anywhere — and if he thinks back on it, he wouldn't think it's because nobody was listening. it was partly because literally everything else was happening, another partly because it's kind of doubtful that trolls would have understood anyway, and a final partly because Dave, in his multitudes of attempts to do the exact same thing Ryuji's always done too, didn't try to really, sincerely convey how shitty he felt.]

[one of the troubles with irony — or at least hiding behind it. it's hard to take yourself seriously.]

[but another thought is there, too, though his memories of it are pretty fuzzy. it was back a dimension ago, on a different space station. Ryuji had been the one to find him. and he had won himself a brand new Strider backpack while he tried to talk Dave through a particularly dangerous Torture Curse of the Month.]

["I think this is the part where I'm s'posed to tell you to walk it off or some inspirational shit like that," he'd said — and then, he immediately walked it right back. he's not great at this inspirational stuff, he'd said. but, you know .... and Dave's sure as hell not going to call himself any authority on sportsball metaphors or anything, but. but, if he were to think about it, he'd probably eventually figure that Ryuji was more on the nose than he realized.]

[suffocating out in the middle of space isn't something you can just walk off. neither is trying to shoulder years of a tortuous childhood by yourself. Dave doesn't really feel ready to be talking about his own childhood, but Ryuji's also right in that he probably won't ever be. and, if they're going to actually stand up and walk out of here without the sports reference, then ... he'll do it. he'll hear what Ryuji needs to say, and he'll try to get his own story out in the open, too.]

[Ryuji gets to be the — well, maybe not literal — backpack now.]

I know, dude. [it sucks so fucking much how much that is coming from a place of understanding. it's all he can do to keep his own voice steady.]

I think I just kinda realized something, though. If, after all this time of like. Acting too fucking cool to care about my own shit, and making a joke out of it and pretending it was something else, instead of just saying what it was ... if that doesn't make me feel better, then ... maybe I've kinda reached a point where just talking about has to.

So, whatever details you wanna talk about or elaborate on, you can. Don't feel like you have to hold back.

[They're an entire universe away from not acknowledging the elephant in the room as a mode of general living. Going through it, it was pretty much the same feeling for everyone: shit sucked. Acknowledging that it was a lot worse than just being at the wrong place at the wrong time felt like it was admitting to something being wrong with everything the way the space station was set up. And so many people were hanging on by a few loose threads that processing pain and everything that went along with it was primed to be pushed out and pushed aside. Just like Dave trying, at least once, to talk about the things that hurt him went nowhere, back at Reverie, so much of it was just... everything else was happening all the time.

Breaching a place like Wonderland, in a universe like this? Remembering what it was like to live in fear or lost and depressed that this was it, there was nothing else but the confines of metal walls and simulated life support systems... Ryuji doesn't want to go back to the station, or relive the moments and thoughts and frustrations of being back there. It's when he looks in the eyes of his fellow Reclaimers back on base that it strikes him; these are the same faces of the people back in space, and that's enough to make everything feel compounded in malignancy.

But it reminds him, too, that he does have agency in his own story, in how he talks about what happens. Coming to Faerun with Dave, it was the first time that constant, awful, horrible things weren't happening every second of every day, and it was, if Ryuji owned up to it, the first step toward healing some of those experiences.

So much else is still happening, but at some point, Ryuji figured out that stuff will always be happening. He cherishes moments of being with Dave when things aren't, and he holds himself accountable to be more open with him. To be patient. And supportive. To be okay with not being okay about a lot of stuff, and also treading unstable ground no matter how scary that is.

He listens to Dave intently, because he's searching for something there. Not just affirmation, or a sound- he's not choking and paralyzed in position- he's there, and he's saying what he's saying. But he's right, and Ryuji understands that so, so unfortunately well. Everything else that he's tried to do to cope with it hasn't really done much for him, either.]

Okay.

[There's a pause because... god, where does he even begin? It lasts a lot longer than it should, because Ryuji still thinks he's awful with words when he's one of the most straight forward people in the world.

After a respite of a minute or so, he comes back and, without making Dave make promises to talk about his own deal, and without implication that there has to be any expectation hinging on any of this- he just. Gets it off his chest.]

My dad was an alcoholic. At some point, I guess, maybe before I was born, he was probably really good to mom, but. Then I came around. And I know it ain't my fault, that he had a whole host of messed up problems, but I kinda think that he never really wanted to be a dad. Or, shit, I'll never really know because he walked out on us when I was in middle school and I never saw him again. And honestly? I'm okay with never meeting the guy again.

[He swallows a lump down, his fight or flight instincts rearing its ugly head because that's what he's learned how to do to survive; to fight back with anger or rebellion whenever it came close to this point.]

And my mom, y'know? She put up with all of it. She was the first line of defense against him, and he was just. I mean, man. He was. Awful ain't even the word. He'd... he'd beat her. I used to hear it all the time when I was a kid, just. Scared outta my goddamn mind 'cause I didn't know what to do when it'd happen.

When I got older, he started. [Ryuji has to stop, because talking about himself is probably the hardest part about this, and he's teary and can't even see correctly. He breathes through a clogged nose and lets go of Dave's hand so that he can press the inner part of his palm against his eyes.]

Started on me, y'know? And I. I just. I don't under... I don't know why he. I, shit.

[Dave is one of those people who are really good at falling over themselves coming up with words to say; even if they aren't remotely in the park of the right words, he still tends to upturn an entire bin of them in the hopes that he can string together something sensible. something comforting. he's had mixed results throughout much of his life — that's just kind of who he is, he's long since accepted that about himself.]

[but, what happens when he actually doesn't have any words?]

[Ryuji's sitting there, not holding back like encouraged, and yet still struggling to get his question out, and it's all too easy to catch where it's going, it's coming from a place of shared pain — and Dave just doesn't have an answer for him. he doesn't understand why, either. and it isn't just that he can't begin to guess what other people are thinking, he genuinely doesn't get how a universe in the business of perpetuating itself saw fit to create him for a specific purpose, and also saw fit to give his other friends three loving, if deeply flawed, guardians, while he got.]

[well. that. and some resentment over it, frankly.]

[so, what happens when Dave doesn't have any words? when they actually aren't there, when his mind goes blank, and he doesn't have anything in his arsenal to try to string together something cogent?]

[he defaults to something he's been doing his best to learn the past 15 months. he scoots as close as possible, until their legs are up against one another. he snakes an arm around Ryuji, holding him gently, and leaning closer, so that Ryuji definitely knows that he's there. it isn't a big spoon maneuver, that's not his usual spot anyway, and part of hitting the play button is, for a moment, not hiding yourself or your hurt, right? this is more about the two of them being on the same level while trying to share with each other.]

[of course, the opening is there if Ryuji would like to anyway. Dave doesn't have his words, but he does have his presence. maybe, somehow, that'll be just enough.]

[All of the fear and resentment at talking about is still just as vibrant as ever; it's never something that's going to magically de-escalate from existence by just straight up talking about it. But it does help. A little, by a little, by a little. Like chipping away at a giant pile of clothes that've been left on the floor for far too long, dissecting piece by piece and breaking it down into smaller chunks that are easier to manage. Ryuji's taken the first step forward to admitting and owning up to the fact that the pile's even there to begin with, which is more than he's even been able to do in the last year or so of dating Dave.

And he's ready, at least, to share that part of himself with someone he so obviously and deeply loves. Someone who doesn't need to say much to show that he gets it- someone who, under all pretenses, has a penchant for never really knowing when the heck to shut up as a means to layer his own problems behind wit and banter. Ryuji leans, the exhaustion of the moment clear on his features, and finds a place where he can rub his face against Dave so that his eyes aren't as blurry as they've gotten. He bathes in the closeness he has with him, an incredibly high defense armor that protects his heart, and breathes heavily through his nose.

After a moment or two passes and he centers himself from what he had just said, he furrows his brow and looks at the guy currently koala attaching himself to, well, himself, and his lids lower, fighting back that bad brain feeling that manages to creep its way up into his brain bowl every so often... that he has no idea how he even kind of deserves Dave when he's got so much shit he still has to deal with. Which is a dumb thought, and he knows that, and he tells himself that mentally in order to shut that voice up. There's no such thing as deserve when it comes to people or the love they have for others within them. That's... probably his childhood doubts seeping into something that doesn't belong, and recognizing that, he slouches a little more and just lets Dave do his thing in his supportive way, and continues to lean on him.

Which is something that also took a year for Ryuji to get better at accepting.]

I guess, uh. Maybe I'm not supposed to find out why. But. I.... it also doesn't mean that... I dunno. I don't gotta give him power over me either.

[He looks downward, not entirely sure what to make or say of anything at the moment. But he doesn't feel weaker for sharing with Dave. Not by a long shot; in fact, it's quite the opposite.]

[Dave, for his part, is relieved that Ryuji's both able to talk about it at all, and to seek comfort in him, whatever thoughts may be running through his head at the moment. it's miles ahead of what Dave's ever been able to do — and as much as it sucks, for all the hurt that's been tossed out in the open for them both to sit there and take in, he feels a twinge of encouragement, too. like maybe it's okay to do this sort of thing to begin with.]

[Dave's always known that, of course. it's just hard to make old habits made out of self-preservation catch up with the obvious.]

[there's ... still not really a lot he can say. there isn't a whole lot he can do, either, other than just let Ryuji stay right where he is, let him be as messy as he needs to be. he leans closer, enough so that their foreheads are just barely touching. this is an intensely private moment, with words only meant for each other, after all. effectively, the rest of Vista Virs just doesn't exist.]

You're right. [he pauses, sorting through what he wants to say.]

Doesn't mean it just ... goes away either, you know? I mean ... I get it. And I get how weak and shitty and small it can make a person feel, especially when you're also on the track of thinking you should be over it.

I guess, just. You don't have to worry about dealing with it alone.

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