extent | duplicitynet

It could be, like, city shit. You know, here's a fun little reminder of the home we robbed you of. I mean normally I'd say a spell or a curse or something, but... [ he shrugs a little, gesturing idly with one finger towards the sword. ] I don't know. Summoning objects from home isn't really a thing anyone can do.

[ it's not exactly a secret at this point that nick's view of family is a little warped at best, straight up broken at worst, but michael's whole situation is something else entirely. when he finally looks at michael, his expression is twisted into--something. sympathy, sort of, but more a just...general ache for the life that michael should have gotten. ]

Was it...weird, finding out like that?

[ He leans back, smile tight. ]

I'd love to know who'd curse me with a thing like that. Who would even know to, aside from them.

[ It's not as if he'd told people about the sword, generally. He hadn't told a lot of people about Jones, and no one knew all of the detail except for Kyle and Alex. That was because they'd been there.

Michael sighs. ]

It was weird finding out in front of him. But there was also...what that meant about him, that it meant he was the tyrant who destroyed my world. Who hunted mine and Isobel's mother. Finding out I was the tyrant's son, that had already been a thing. I struggled with that for a long time. But knowing he was there, that Max was his clone, that we were facing him directly and he was so powerful.

Weird isn't the word. Horrifying, maybe.

Yeah....horrifying sounds about right.

[ now is about the time where nick would give a hug, or a shoulder squeeze, or even just hold a hand out for someone to take. he's a toucher, he always has been, and his primary way of comfort, empathy, communication, is touch. he doesn't know anything any more though, he doesn't know if that's even on the cards for them any more.

instead he just winds his arms a little tighter around his legs, frowning vaguely at the story. ]

I thought Max was your brother. Doesn't that make him your like....daduncle?

[ Yeah, there's that weirdness. Michael lifts a shoulder, and tilts his head back to look at Nick. ]

Kind of.

Jones - that's daddy - made clones of his body so he could transfer his soul into then, and make himself immortal. My mom was an engineer, she helped create that science. Then she destroyed it, when she saw how he was destroying our world. Max was the last clone. According to Jones, he was the most perfect clone, too, so he wanted his body. He followed my mom to Earth to get Max back.

[ He pauses, then sits up a little straighter. His hands settle against the edge of the sofa. ]

When we woke up, it was decades later, and we didn't know any of that. We went on instinct. We always thought it was Max and Isobel who were really related, brother and sister. It helped that they were adopted as twins. I was always separate. None of us would've guessed that the real relatives were Max and me. Yeah, technically, he's my genetic dad. But as far as we're concerned, we're brothers. I didn't care about the genetic crap. I just wanted to save him from Jones.

Your dad sounds like a piece of work.

[ family has always been a sticky sort of a subject, it's not something they've talked about much--but then nick doesn't talk about home worlds very much at all. this is probably the longest he's kept it up willingly in a while, without trying to slide out of the conversation or change the subject. most of the time he doesn't even realise that he's doing it.

he's just listening now though, a little fidgety but no more than usual. that's just the situation, sitting on the couch with michael, just the two of them, no kind of buffer -- except a glow stick sword, of course. ]

So this sword, is it the one he used for all that...destroying and conquering and stuff? That's a pretty shift gift.

[ Michael likes the sword about as well as any gift he thinks Duplicity might bestow. By and large they aren't known for making him happy. It's true that this seems particularly pointed, though. He shakes his head. ]

He used his powers for that. He could heal, and kill, with a touch. Every kill made him stronger. What he didn't just murder, he burned down. He could control fire too.

The swords, they only came into play when he fought someone directly. This one was shattered and part of it went through his heart. I was there. But still they're like, surprise! Have one of these. All I can think of is someone touching it and burning up.

[ Someone, or Nick particularly. ]

You're sure it'll work that way here?

[ it's a pointless question, it's not like any kind of experiment would be worth the risk, but there's no point in pretending like nick isn't curious, when michael can clearly tell. curiosity or not, he's not especially interested in gambling with burning up--even less interested in gambling with a very direct and specific request from michael. ]

If it'll stay in the house you can leave it here. I don't really want to poke around your dad's murder sword. [ he shrugs, a grim expression on his face. ] It probably won't, though. I mean, if it's following you.

[ Michael glances at him, not missing that little barb at the end. ]

It's been following me to work, to Alex's. I haven't seen the Captain yet. I should probably warn her. Honestly, I was most worried about you.

[ Alex and Kyle know the deal already, and Michael would think Kathryn has sense enough not to touch something new and glowing. She'd be smarter than that, you know, probably. He'll still tell her, though. ]

Besides, I'm here more than I'm not. If it was gonna be anywhere, it'd be here. I don't see why it wouldn't work the same, but I know for damn sure I'm not gonna risk anyone's skin with a test.

Right. Can't help myself, can I.

[ it's not like nick doesn't understand the train of thought there, but he sounds a little dejected all the same. he doesn't want to be, he wants to act like things are normal, that this is just one of a hundred conversations they've had over the days, or failing that, that it's fine that nick can hardly recall the last time they were alone together, or around each other in any way that was significant. like if he can act that it is okay, somewhere along the way it will become that.

he's just tired, is the thing, and he's only so good of an actor. he drags his legs a little closer, hugs his knees tighter, and rearranges his expression into something that's supposed to resemble chilled, relaxed. the kind of friendly unbothered that he's trying really hard to be. ]

Well. I won't touch it or whatever. If that's all you wanted to talk about, you're off the hook or whatever. It's cool.

[ Michael hesitates, looking at him. The whole way Nick's sitting feels off. He's gathered up against himself, and his expression seems blank. Maybe it wouldn't, to most people, but Michael knows what real emotion looks like on his face. It's not this.

He lets out a breath and leans back.. ]

Look, Kyle and Alex already know what's up, they were there for this crap. I'm not...trying to insult you.

Things got so wrong between us. I just don't want you to get hurt, I mean. Should I not tell you?

[ there's a few responses that nick chews over, ranging from knee jerk pettiness to a very horrible kind of desperation that makes him feel exposed just thinking about it, and in the end he settles somewhere outside of all of those things with a half-shrug, attention pulled towards where he's idly, lightly pressing this thumbnail over the bump of his knee cap, like it's fascinating. ]

I don't know, I'm the only person you're worried about being stupid enough to touch the death sword.

[ distance makes it easier, honestly. nick's always been skilled at pretending like everything is normal. it's harder when michael's on the couch next to him and the distance feels larger than ever. ]

It's fine. Thanks for, like, making sure I didn't kill myself.

[ It would be easier if he could say it wasn't true. Nick's better at getting himself into trouble than anyone Michael knows, even including himself, these days. This is the guy who drank a bottle labelled acetone, just because he saw Michael doing it. Of course Michael had thought he'd be likely to touch a glowing sword.

But it's also true that it must sucks, to have that reputation. After the shit with William, after how they'd fought. ]

You got burned because of me before, I didn't want that to happen again. I care about-- my shit, hurting you.

I care about you.

That wasn't your fault.

[ the response comes instantly, because it wasn't. accidents happen, and they happen here all the goddamn time. nick hadn't held michael responsible in the moment, let alone now. ]

Is it easier, [ nick doesn't really mean to ask, until it's already happening, words blurted at his knees rather than at michael. ] caring from a distance?

[ Michael turns to look at him. He tries to read his face, but it's still so carefully blank.

A tight smile pulls across his face and he lifts his brows. ]

I don't know. Was it easier for you?

[ it's a fair question, one he might have anticipated, if he'd planned in any way before he spoke. but then, rehearsed speeches and practiced conversations didn't get nick very far last time. maybe the unplanned blurting is better, even if he hasn't really figured out how to look away from his own knees as he's talking. ]

No. But I thought it'd be easier on you, so. It was...tolerable.

It wasn't,

[ Michael says, probably too quickly. Recognizing that, he presses his lips together and leans back. ]

It's not like I disappeared, or moved out, or just didn't come home ever. I thought, if...

If you didn't know for sure that I would be here, every night, without fail, then maybe you'd stop moving out to avoid me every time something goes wrong. Something always goes wrong here, and every time, you have to avoid me.

I don't want that to happen the next time I die, or fall in a coma, or the next time I find out some secret you're keeping. So I made my being here less predictable. I don't want to keep being the reason you don't come home.

I thought it was a...punishment.

[ he might as well admit it, it's not like it particularly matters now. it still sticks in his throat a little, a confession he hadn't really wanted to make. nick has never particularly liked anything approaching vulnerability, but this feels particularly scraped back. ]

You said you didn't want space and then you--I just. I figured you were teaching me a lesson. It was either that or you were lying, and that didn't seem likely. So.

[ Maybe it had looked like that. A punishment, a reaction, a way to make Nick feel bad. It hadn't been any of that. He doesn't look at Nick again. Nick looks so vulnerable in general that it seems unfair to put the intensity of eyes on him too.

He sighs. ]

I don't want space. I don't need space, from you. I wasn't trying to do that, I just thought if I slept here less, than it wasn't always a guarantee I'd be here. So maybe you wouldn't leave home to avoid me again.

[ He takes a breath. ]

It's always me you want to avoid. It doesn't matter if it's because I've done something, or you've done something, or something happened to one of us. The answer is always you...skipping this place, to avoid me. I'm the one you can't deal with when things go any kind of wrong.

I hate that. So I was trying to make it not be a thing.

One time, it was you. [ there's no point in sugar coating it, when it's so plainly true, when after michael had died nick could barely stand to be in a room with the person that didn't know him from a stranger. ] One time, I thought I was...doing the right thing. Most of the time it's just...all of this. I don't--

[ this feels like the sort of conversation that he should have chewed through with caleb first, who is acutely able to take in nick's ramblings and pick out the points that actually make sense, translate them into something more coherent, but then he hadn't planned on talking to michael at all today. ]

I've never done this. Living with someone. Relationships. Families. I've spent a year trying to figure out how to do it, how to be like, a person, that does these things and it's normal for them, and I still don't know. But like, when it's that--when it's bad, it's everyone. It's me. I'm the problem. Not you.

[ Michael doesn't think it was him just one time. Admittedly, that time had been the hardest, when he was dealing with the fact that he died and spent more time worrying about what the hell was up with Nick. That time, he'd been tempted to move out. Nick had been so adamant that he shouldn't do that. He'd thought that what he was doing now would be a compromise, of sorts, but it seems like that isn't working either. ]

Neither have I. I don't even live in a house back home, I just...

You and Kyle, you're the couple. I hate feeling like I'm chasing you away from him just by being there. I always think that I should be the one to leave, not you.

So you tell me, Nick, what makes it easier for you? What does, if it's not this?

Edited 2022-06-08 15:36 (UTC)

We're not the couple. What about you and him?

[ nick feels distinctly like he'd like the couch to open up and swallow him whole, honestly. any kind of heavy conversation starts to ache after a while, and this one has hurt from the beginning. but there's a whole point being made about running away, so it wouldn't do very well to shrink away and disappear right now. instead he just flops his head back on the cushion behind his back, directs his eyes up at the ceiling instead. ]

I don't get why me leaving to give you guys space after a really fucked thing came out and everyone was understandably hurt is running away, even when I try and tell you that's not what I'm doing, but whatever you're doing right now is--what, different? It's not.

[ Alex had said something like that, too. What about Michael and Kyle. Kyle has said Michael was important, too. That just never tracks, he never thinks of himself as on that level. Why would he? He doesn't matter like Nick matters.

Something about that is self-defeating, and he knows it. Is it really different? He hesitates, turning words over in his head and frowning a little. ]

We didn't need space, we needed you. Even if it was just...to be pissed with you for a minute. We were worried about you.

I wasn't trying to run away, I was trying...to stop being an obstacle for you. Will it make you happier if I'm here more, again? I just don't want to be the thing that you stop coming home for.

Even if you weren't home, I still wouldn't have been here. I like, I didn't see anyone.

[ the truth is, nick has never really stopped feeling like he's walking on eggshells since, he's just less solitary about it now. the ceiling doesn't hold any more answers for nick than his knees did, but he still stares away like he's trying to find something.

conversations like this make him miss hard drugs, but he's pretty sure that snorting something mid-chat would go down like a lead balloon, and he's not actually trying to be inflammatory. he's just tired. sad. ]

It doesn't really matter what it makes me, I'm not going to force it. You don't want to be here.

[ Nick's looking at the ceiling. Michael has turned to look back at Nick. After a moment, he reaches over and lifts Nick's hand, then pulls it over to rest gently between both of his. Nick likes touch, Michael knows that. He was always a ready hugger, far more than Michael has ever been. He's been so gathered up against himself throughout this. Michael just wants to break that pattern. ]

That's what I thought about you. You didn't want to be here.

You're wrong, I do want to be here. I just don't want to drive you away again. I thought I was making that easier. If I wasn't, then I don't have to go again. I want us to be a family.

[ They used to be. He was happy, when they were. ]

[ he's doing alright at holding it together--maybe not well, considering he hasn't looked at michael ever since the conversation shifted, but it's still together. but michael reaches over, and nick feels his throat close up so quick it could practically be an allergic reaction. his eyes well up, and he screws them quickly shut, like it's not happening if it can't be seen. ]

I hate it. I hate you not being here.

[ he can hear the strain in his voice and it disgusts him a little, but he grabs hold of michael's hand and squeezes fiercely, latched on tight like a lifeline even as the rest of his body holds the same position. ]

I don't want you to come back just 'cause I'm fucking sad about it. I want you to be happy, it's like, it's okay if that doesn't include me any more.

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