extent | duplicitynet

i mean obviously im fucking perfect
just like

i dont know i'll be quick see u in 15

[ He'll be there when Nick arrives, sitting on one of the few remaining benches that haven't been vandalised to the point of being unusable. For once he's actually dressed appropriately for the weather and maybe a little beyond that, layered up against the damp chill air under a thick buffalo plaid jacket with a knitted hat pulled down over his ears.

He has his head tipped back, studying the gloom of the perpetual half-night and imagining the ceiling of the cave system high above them. ]

( in the end it is more like fifteen, odd socks thrown on and a random sweater without a shirt underneath, because nick had definitely not been prepared to leave the house when he'd gotten logan's message. he doesn't run because that would imply stress and he's not stressed -- but if the last half of the journey is made in an anxious little power walk, it's no one's business but nick's and the handful of people he crossed paths with on the way to the park.

he falters a little when he sees logan, and it takes a minute to figure out what looks different, because he's dressed more or less like everyone else out in the winter chill and—

he's dressed like everyone else. is that what he's noticing? )

Nice hat. ( by way of a hello. casual, though there's no glimpse of a smile, faked or otherwise, on his face. just a twisted expression as he digs his teeth into the inside of his cheek. ) What's going on?

[ It's been a couple of days since he came back from Realignment, so there's a decent suggestion of stubble along his jaw again, though his eyebrows are still vague shadows above the dark smudged hollows under his eyes. Thanks to Dick's help he's alert, though, even if he doesn't register that Nick's nearby until he can hear the scuff of his footsteps. ]

You know the mess with the lists of people everyone's fucked? Turns out the city decided to use that to clean up on some Dominant-Dominant stuff.

[ He lifts a hand, turning it to show Nick the back, where a long shallow scratch is the evidence of having accidentally caught it on the edge of some splintery board on his way through the Down that morning. ]

No powers for a while. I wanted to let you know so you don't get surprised by it.

( nick knows the mess with the lists intimately well because it's plunged his life into pure chaos again--but that's a problem for another day, and frankly for another bottle of whiskey. he can only focus on so many things at once and he's glad to be rid of that, coming up close enough that he can take logan's hand in his own.

he frowns and doesn't bother to hide it, touching a finger light to the edge of the wound. he hadn't realised how accustomed he'd grown to the sight of logan very much not injured until he saw the opposite, and it sits uncomfortably. he almost heals it without thinking, habits born from accident prone friends and nick's automatic response, but he pauses.

if there's anyone who deserves to be asked first, it's logan. nick only saw a little, understood even less, but he knows that much. )

So they weren't giving you a break after all. Can I fix this?

It's not -- [ He starts, meaning to brush it off as not a big deal, but he's learning something about letting people do things if it helps them cope with the kind of bad situations he's been ending up in lately.

It's the least he can do.

So he stops there and reroutes. Keeps his gaze steady on Nick. ]

Sure. Go ahead.

( nick knows, in a roundabout way, that this is more for him than logan. healing factor or not, if the man can't handle a cut on the back of his hand he's got bigger problems to deal with, but he's going to take it anyway. nick knows in a roundabout way too, that this means so much because there's so much that he can't fix, but he--doesn't think about that right now.

instead he steps in until he's close enough that he can lift Logan's hand to his mouth, press an idle kiss to worn knuckles. there's no need for it, nick could fix a scrape like this from feet away with no trouble, no contact required at all. but there's a way he likes to do things at the best of times, and there's definitely a way he wants to do things now. logan will be able to feel it, distinctly, when nick's magic starts to weave through his body. he's focused on the hand, on knitting together torn tissue and healing over skin. it's warm, tingling, and it stings -- nick can't just wish away the damage, he has to make the body repair itself. not unlike logan's healing factor, actually. )

So what does this mean for you? ( it's not a complex injury, nick can talk while he works, even if he knows he sounds worried. who wouldn't be? ) No powers. That's going to be a problem, right?

[ It's a tiny little pain, comparatively speaking. Close enough to the itchy crawl of his healing factor zipping him back up that it makes him miss it in an absurd kind of way, noting distantly how messed up it is to miss something that only happens when he's hurt. But it is what it is, he can't help it, nor can he stop Nick from treating a little scrape like a war wound.

He flexes his fingers a bit against the weird tingle of magic, his eyes lingering on Nick's face and the concern building up behind his expression. ]

Yeah, it's gonna be a problem. [ No point lying about it. ] Dick's keepin' me topped up, though. Vampire healing. You know how that works. Does for most of it, though some of the problem ain't the kind of thing that can be healed.

[ His body technically functioning as normal, in other words, except normal never accounted for an extra hundred pounds of metal to be carried around. ]

I just need you to -- [ His face scrunches up suddenly and he turns his head and sneezes a couple of times into his shoulder. He sniffs and grimaces. ] Just don't worry.

Sounds like a good way to end up a vampire.

( which--isn't as absurdly terrifying to other people as it is to nick, probably, so it's likely not an issue, but it adds another new gently sprinkled layer of concern over the whole scenario. don't worry, he says, but how can nick not?

he distinctly feels like there are too many fucking plates spinning right now, but for now he focuses on tracing a thumb over the freshly healed skin. he pushes it further, gently exploratory. it's not subtle, the faint tingling sensation spreads, and nick expects he'll be told to stop sooner rather than later, but for the time being he's just...seeking out anything he can find. small nicks. overstrained muscles. )

Gross. ( the sneeze, obviously. helpful. ) I'm going to worry. You know that, right? Like, this is a worrying situation. Like I'll be chill about it, it's fine, but it's not....going anywhere.

Neither am I.

[ He turns that into a promise, giving him a hard look to go with it. The tingling warmth of the magic is sliding down his arm, rolling around his joints, easing some of the inflammation of muscles tearing themselves to shreds trying to move inflexible metal. As soon as he realises what's going on, he tugs his hand back out of Nick's grip, scowling. ]

It's only gonna be for a month, Nick. I can take care of myself for that long. [ He growls the words, his anger not necessarily directed at Nick, or anyone who wants to help. That's part of what makes it so frustrating, an impotent frustration with nowhere to go. ] No need to treat me like a goddamn invalid. I'm tellin' ya so you're not surprised.

Right.

( he could just--keep going anyway, the contact isn't needed for nick's magic to work, it just helps, but he figures that's probably being overly provocative. maybe worth it, but he might as well save pissing logan off over something like this for later in the month.

still. he chews at the side of his cheek, teeth digging in and a downward slant to his mouth as he turns his eyes to the miserable looking park in front of them. not that the place ever looks particularly nice, but there's something about late winter that makes the gloomy down even more depressing than usual. )

You know, people not wanting you to suffer when they can really easily help isn't 'treating you like an invalid'. ( he shrugs, tugs a sleeve over his hand, picks listlessly at the hem of it for something to do with his hands. )

[ These days there's a certain amount of anger that's sitting dangerously close to the surface of Logan's day-to-day state of mind. He'll readily admit that it's always there, a constant black-eyed companion, but lately it's been getting harder to ignore. He looks up at the side of Nick's head and the way he's pointedly not looking back at him and feels it turn over inside of him, stretching out against the bars of its cage.

Fuck.

He searches for control and finds it again, though not before letting out a short sharp sigh. ]

Fine. Fine, if you wanna help, take a look at this -- [ He hooks his fingers into the collar of the sweater he's wearing and the t-shirt underneath, dragging them both down until some of the letters burned into his bare skinned chest are visible. The I lands right on his sternum, the other ends of the word curving down over his pecs. Thanks to Dick it's no longer a raw wound, but something about it resists the healing, resists the magic that should have healed it over completely, and it's pink and irritated, inflamed along some of the edges.

Logan watches Nick's face, almost daring him to react. ]

See that? It says "deviant". They burned it into me after they shaved every goddam inch of my body. This is the kind of shit that you're gonna have to deal with. Still wanna help?

( nick doesn't get angry, because there's no point to it. he doesn't get angry and he doesn't let it fester and he definitely doesn't entertain thoughts that sometimes he'd like to tear this place apart brick by brick and sometimes he thinks he might just be able to. because it's a waste of time.

it's awfully hard to remember that he doesn't get angry when he sees something like that.

logan obviously wants a reaction but nick doesn't give one. he's getting better at that these days, and that's probably a red flag in and of itself but there's only so much he can focus on at a time, and right now it's pretty clear what the priority is. he fights the urge to raise his hand, the kneejerk need to fix, and instead just looks at logan with a--complicated expression. not quite sad but something close. )

Do you actually think I wouldn't?

[ If it's a victory, it's a pyrrhic one. Logan lets go of his sweater almost immediately and drops his hand back into his lap, not quite able to meet Nick's gaze. If he spends too long looking into the -- he can't not see it as hurt, as betrayal -- in Nick's expression he's not sure if he'll be able to stop himself from breaking down, and he's pretty sure once he starts that he won't be able to stop.

He takes a breath instead. Lets it out. ]

No. No, I know you would. [ Now he looks up at him. ] You gotta understand, Nick.. I'm not used to bein' like this. Last time it almost drove me nuts. Time before that it killed me and I'm pretty sure I went out wantin' it to. My whole life, I've been the one runnin' in front of gunfire, blades, bombs and worse. 'Cause I could survive. So I had to be the one to be on that front line. You understand? That's all I had. All I did.

Being like this -- [ He plucks at his sweater, frowning in disgust. ] -- I've got nothin' left. So it's hard to.. accept help. 'Cause that means acceptin' that this is all I've got. And that now I can't even..

[ He trails off, unable to finish that sentence. ]

I don't think anyone expects you to change lifetime habits in like, a couple of days.

( it's never easy hearing about anything in logan's life. for all the pain this place has caused, it's clear there's far more that has built up outside of it. it's hard to hear, hard to look at, but nick holds his gaze all the same. even if his teeth dig into his cheeks so hard it hurts and his hand flexes awkwardly between them without something to do.

his eyes flicker down to the spot covered up by the sweater again where he knows a brand sits. and it's just so unnecessarily humiliating, it almost feels--worse, than some of the violence this place has launched against them. he doesn't get angry, but it's just another bitter little pill that's going to eat at him, in the quiet spaces where he can't distract himself with anything else. )

Sometimes I think I'd rather not be here at all than figure out how to ask for help. Or worse, actually let people. ( it's directed at logan's cheek rather than his eyes, gaze just a little off as he twists a smile onto his face that feels all wrong. ) Do you want it to hurt, is that part of it?

[ It's difficult to realise the places where he and Nick mirror each other. To see those cracks in someone who has been through all the shit he's put himself through, all the messed up crap that's happened to him whether he deserved it or not -- he can almost understand it. Somehow it feels like it would be worse to come out the other side of that completely sane and whole.

Nick, though -- he's been through dark times, mostly because of the man he's trying to comfort. Logan's mouth thins out as he sets his jaw on that shame and guilt. It tastes bitter, as does the truth that wants to break past his teeth. ]

Yeah. [ He sighs, a shifting weight. Without thinking, he rubs his fingertips over the back of his hand, where Nick's magic has made the skin whole. It's not a new revelation. Probably not that surprising to anyone who knows him. ] Yeah, part of me does. I'm used to the hurt. Not so used to the.. fuss.

( it's one thing to know something, more or less, and another to hear it confirmed so plainly. just because it isn't surprising doesn't make the answer any more welcome. the corners of nick's mouth still slants downwards and he doesn't have the energy to try and act like it doesn't.

besides. acting well when everything's not has him feeling kind of slimy these days. )

I think you probably already know the fuss isn't going anywhere.

( it's not just him, nick knows that. logan has a lot of people, clearly more than he's used to, and it's something of a relief that he can't be the only person making these arguments. surely someone's will sink in, at some point. nick draws his leg up onto the bench, arms looped around his leg, chin on his knee and eyes out on the frozen slush all over the ground that passes for winter down here.

he bites his tongue around admissions about his own habits. nick knows, in his more honest moments, why he gouges nonsense tattoos into himself, why he seeks out some of the sex he does, why a powder or a pill has always been more of a comfort than a shoulder and a friendly ear. but this isn't about him, so nick puts a welcome lid on that and tips his face back towards logan. )

Part of the trade off of having people love you is that it's going to be really fucking overwhelming any time you're hurting. It's hard to see it and not do something, when you can. You wouldn't just sit back and watch me shove a knife into my guts for kicks, would you.

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cw: suicidal ideation mention

cw: ongoing suicidal ideation ref

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