extent | duplicitynet

[ Michael comes into the room and comes over to him, quiet and careful. He knows this kind of mood. He also knows that trying to help will only make things worse, because it would for him. He'd lash out. Max usually took the brunt of that, back home.

But Max was also continually there for him, which is why he'd lashed out. For better or worse, he's got to try and do that for Nick. Even if it makes him a punching bag, conversationally speaking.

He starts with the easiest thing, which is going to the fridge and pulling out two beers. The caps pop off the bottles by themselves, and he holds one out to Nick. ]

You can make your own choices. I'm not here to tell you you're wrong. I mean, part of me wants to take it out on Logan, but.

I haven't, yet.

( nick's jaw works as he tries to figure out where to pick apart the holes in that sentence, but it's kind of hard. it's harder when he's got a beer in his hand, which he takes even as he has half a mind to chase something stronger. )

Part of you should keep your opinions to yourself.

( he snaps without thinking, but it lacks the bite that nick really wants from a response. he takes a long swig from the beer, but that doesn't really do anything either, and he just ends up shaking out one of his hands as he stares pointedly at the kitchen counter. )

I just— didn't know how to explain it. So I didn't.

[ Michael watches him. His hands had been shaking, and he can see the symptom's still there. He doesn't say anything about it. It's part of why he'd grabbed the beers, though, something to help put Nick's jangling nerves at ease. ]

You're not a kid, Nick. It's your life, you can make your own call.

[ Michael calls him a kid, sometimes. 'That kid', who he cares about. 'That kid' who reminds him of himself, 'that kid' who'll break Kyle's heart one day. But Nick's not a child. It isn't going to help to treat him like one.

Doesn't mean he's not making a bad call, though. ]

He ever hurt you? Or, do things that make you feel bad after?

No, Jesus.

( nick takes another swig, puts the bottle down with more force than he means and starts at the sound. he's torn between wanting to tell michael exactly where he can shove his questions and a desperate need to explain himself, to have at least one person around here see his choices and not immediately think that he's tanking things on purpose.

he's still trying to get rid of all that residual anger, rattling around with nowhere to go and keeping him wound tight and tense, but he's trying to sound calm at least. failing, miserably, but he's trying. )

He's not like that. It's— fuck. Why am I even trying?

Okay.

[ The thing is, that first encounter of theirs, however disturbing it had been, had been the result of the city drugging them. Logan had been as much a victim in that as Nick. If they'd forced him to do what Logan had done to the others on that video, Michael's head would be in a goddamn mess. They went through that together and they know it, so maybe there's a kind of bond there. It may not be healthy, but again, they're both adults who get to make that call. So long as it's genuinely consensual, and Nick isn't getting hurt from it. ]

Listen, who you have sex with isn't anyone's business but yours. If he were hurting you, then we'd have a problem.

So. Why does Ragnor have a problem?

Ragnor has a problem with everything I do.

( that's just about the least charitable take that someone could have on the whole situation, but nick doesn't feel particularly charitable, and he certainly doesn't feel bad.

...sort of. actually he regrets it more or less instantly. argument or not ragnor is objectively one of the most important people in nick's life, and trying to make him seem like a dick to make himself feel better doesn't really cut it. not least of all when talking to one of the other most important people in nick's life. )

I didn't tell him. I lied about shit, so he wouldn't find out. ( he starts picking the label off of the bottle. ) I talk to Ragnor about shit, y'know. So he's angry cause he thinks I'm being stupid and because I kept it from him.

[ Michael just waits, at first. He turns to lean back against the counter, and takes a sip of his beer while he listens.

None of it surprises him, except maybe the part where Nick had been talking to Ragnor. In like, a therapy context. That's surprising. It's a healthier choice than Michael would've expected from him. Present choices are more of a return to form.

Unfortunately. ]

Okay.

So why'd you keep it from him?

[ That, for Michael, is more important than the part about it being stupid. He's not touching that. Why it was a secret is bigger, since that means there was something about it that Nick didn't want to voice. Maybe that was because of Ragnor, but Michael suspects it has more to do with Nick, himself. ]

( it's a great question, and one with several answers, each harder to unpack than the last. it's not exactly a secret to anyone that nick struggles to talk about anything that might be approaching a serious topic, even more when it's something to do with himself.

the lengths ragnor has to go to, just to get nick to properly open up for a few minutes at a time, are unreasonable. even now he swigs from the bottle and chews over the question, wondering where the boundaries lie with michael. nick could lie — would he give a shit? would he notice? but that's exactly the kind of thinking that got him into this mess in the first place. )

Because....there's no way of talking about Logan without talking about that— ( nick abruptly turns on his heel, because beer very much is not going to cut it anymore, and he knows for a fact that there's spirits tucked alongside some cereal boxes, because that's more or less his staple diet. )

I didn't want to be– judged, I guess.

[ Liquor in the cereal boxes. Michael wonders, briefly, if Kyle knows about that. He decides almost immediately that he doesn't. He looks away, then drinks more of his own beer.

Michael wants to say that he doesn't think it would've been Ragnor doing the judging, because by hiding it, Nick was already judging himself. But Ragnor had judged, hadn't he? That had happened. So in some ways, Nick's been proved right tonight, and that doesn't help. ]

I get that.

[ He looks down at his bottle, and lets out a breath. ]

You never asked me what happened to my hand. Why?

( it's easier to have a conversation when he's not actually addressing someone, which is a great excuse for why nick busies himself with glasses and pouring drinks, all with his back to michael. even once he's done he only half-turns, leaning his hip against the counter and looking into the bottom of his glass like it might actually hold some answers. )

I figured it was something fucked up.

( he had wanted to ask, obviously. nick is nothing if not nosy as shit, but as much as he likes to claim it, he's not particularly stupid. it had been pretty easy to put two and two together, and see that whatever four was, couldn't be that nice. )

I also figured, if it was something you wanted me to know, you'd tell me.

[ Michael nods, still watches him. Then shrugs. ]

Someone hurt me, deliberately. I was holding on to it. That's why I didn't want it healed, not because I loved the pain, or not being able to move it like I did before.

Because I hated that person. I wanted to hold onto that. And I didn't tell anyone about it, for oh. Ten years? Something like that.

[ Another drink. ]

Anyway, it doesn't matter now. Thing is, keeping that secret, it didn't help me. It festered, and I let it. Secrets do that. I should know, I've always had too many of them.

( theres a knee jerk response that nick only just manages to bite back, because it's easy to hurt someone when they're being vulnerable about something, and nick knows all too well that it's easiest to get someone to back off by hurting them. but he drinks instead, swallows back the nasty retort he has loaded and ready to go. he doesn't want michael to back off, even if the whole conversation makes him squirm. )

Have you let go of it, now?

( the circumstances weren't exactly ideal, but michael still let him fix the injury all the same. the truth is, nick isn't good at secrets, and he's starting to lose track of all the ones he's keeping. )

I don't...know how to talk about shit. It's easier to just keep things to myself.

[ Has he?

Michael's aiming for honesty here, so he sticks with that, come what may. ]

I don't know. Enough to not hold on to a scar anymore. Not completely.

[ The scar is still there. It can't be seen anymore, but that doesn't mean it's gone. Michael finishes his bottle and sets it down. ]

Course it's easier, Nick. Do you want Ragnor to leave you alone? I mean, really.

( now that's a question. nick knocks back the contents of his own glass, and it's only the fact that he's stood here with michael that stops him pouring another. instead he just shrugs his shoulders, passes the empty glass back and forth between his hands a few times and then slides it across the counter. )

No.

( its the most obvious answer and it still feels like he's cracking his ribs open just to answer honestly. )

He'd be better off if he didn't. That's not self-depreciating bullshit, I'm just not an idiot. I'm work, I know I am.

[ Michael shrugs his shoulders. ]

Seems to me like he's willing to do the work. I don't think he's the only one.

[ He does recognise that this isn't an easy conversation to have. It wouldn't be, if the parties were reversed. ]

It doesn't matter.

( nick is tired. he's tired of this conversation and tired of the fight, he's tired of this place. he mostly just wants to get very wasted and pass out face down on his bed, but he's aware enough of appearances not to want to start that process in front of michael. he grabs the bottle again but doesn't pour another glass, just fidgets with it between his hands as he cracks a weak smile. )

Like, thanks for the pep talk. You're a smart guy. I've got so much shit I should be doing, though, I'm going to just— get on with that

[ Michael sighs, and goes to put a hand on his shoulder. He squeezes it, and then backs off, still holding his drink. ]

Okay. Listen, you know where I am. I have your back, Nick.

I know. Like...really. I know you do.

( he does, as well. there's only a handful of people that nick actually talks to about anything real, even fewer that nick actually relies on, and there's no denying that michael has become one of them.

he steps in and pulls michael into a very brief hug, and it feels a little like history repeating itself. nick is retreating to his room and not a multi-day tour of the dive bars in the down though, so it feels more acceptable to pull away and do some waving kind of gesture at him. )

I'll talk to you later, okay?

( naturally, the bottle comes with him when he ducks out of the kitchen. )

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