[ he is, absurdly, minutes away from double texting before bob puts him out of his misery a full twenty-four hours later. calculated cruelty — except it’s bob, so it can’t be that. it’s just hurt. ]
Your power. The strength. You didn’t just fall from the sky or drink radioactive breast milk? Accidentally?
I have horses and my own lake, too. My mother is the lieutenant governor of Washington so obviously I had a leg up to get where I am. Especially since I fucked most of my time away at the best schools in the country doing just that. Fucking. I don't think I ever even knew what fear was until I joined the army. I don't actually have any real problems. Just miserable to be miserable, I guess.
[ the worst kind of miserable. the kind that no one should feel sorry for except himself. he watches the dots appear and disappear several times. ]
You're the one who doesn't have to do anything, remember?
[ i don’t believe you, a childish impulse in the face of conflicting messages. embry defined what they had going as fun right before he ended it. and no self-esteem crash accounts for being sick or panicking like that. he’s not going to forget embry accusing him of being somebody else anytime soon. maybe ever. worse, bob thinks he was an asshole then, too, letting his own hurt override the instinct to care for the person in greater distress.
embry was right to prefer him in the gutter. ]
i’ve got a lot on my mind and the powers put everything in overdrive pacing this place in designer sneakers doesn’t really wear me out
[ he owes him more, after what happened. after how he reacted to something that should have been welcome and easy with flinching dread, like a goddamn virgin. after he let the worst parts of himself take over, the rot inside spilling out. he owes him a real explanation — how it felt to have someone else in control the way only ash has ever been allowed to do, how long and hard of a road even that was, how he wants to ask again and promise he won't fuck it up this time. ]
I'm guessing none of the things we did before will work. With you and your sentry thing. Close your eyes and count some sheep. Or I can send you some nudes if you want. I have some really excellent ones. And my nudes don't talk back. That's gotta get them some points.
Can't stop something we've never done. I've never sent you a nude.
If you're really not in the mood, I have an incredibly fucked up picture of my corpse I could use instead. Actually, I have several. Rate your interest from 1 to 10.
I swiped them from Hawk’s phone. Danny decided to leave him a little present, but Hawk was already dead. It is about as weird as you might imagine. One of those things you just can’t stop looking at. I have no idea when he might drop Ash’s. Or to who. And I can only imagine what they look like.
[ when he’s not thinking about bob, he’s thinking about this. constantly.
that stings. a lot. he writes several responses — i do care. i always cared. i’m not that fucking cruel. fuck you. — and quickly deletes them all. this is for the best for both of them, right? it’s better this way. ]
Who’s on the list for your late night booty calls?
[ the fucking autopsy photos, not the booty call shortlist, which he’s ignoring. ]
i’m sorry, embry that’s the most fucked thing i’ve heard since we stopped killing each other
[ a beat, in which he considers telling embry to delete the photos, or maybe asking him if he’s alone instead of with ash and greer. he must be, if he’s looking into the blue light for answers. ]
you want me to send his phone flying into jonty’s porridge tomorrow?
[ a strangely tight feeling at the offer, his chest locking up against the press of kindness. ]
It's so cute when you pretend to still care about me. He's got a hidden stash of sick photos like the world's biggest creep. You'd have to blow up the whole house to get rid of them.
Wait, so how much can you really do? Can you blow this place up? Can you feel what my fingers are doing?
What's worse than blowing up the house and killing us all? Yeah, I listened. Skeptically. Okay, half-listened. Everything he was saying sounded completely fucking ridiculous, and I had personal reasons to not support your public crucifixion. Anyway, I know you wouldn't hurt anyone on purpose.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Your power. The strength.
You didn’t just fall from the sky or drink radioactive breast milk? Accidentally?
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that’s really funny
[ no middle finger emoji required for his tone to come across, right?
he types and backspaces, mostly on account of being unsure whether he wants to say anything at all. ]
this suit found me after a night out
told me all about a medial study for a trial drug
one that could make you better
braver and stronger and stuff
i couldn’t believe it
probably shouldn’t have
but it felt like everything i ever wanted
a chance to be something
to be more
so i signed all the forms a couple days later
don’t remember much after that
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Your nonchalance about the last part could be studied.
Do you want to guess what I would have done?
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[ on both counts. the lost time unnerves him. the distorted memories of the lab haunt him.
and when it comes to whether embry would have been dumb or desperate enough to make the same choice he did — ]
i already know what you think of my whole deal
what i don’t know
is why you’re texting me about it
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What do I think about your whole deal?
[ he will not be examining or explaining the second thing. ]
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nothing good
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It's actually none of your business. It's barely my business.
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then i guess we don’t have anything to talk about
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Since you don't want to guess.
Do you let other people tie you up and spank you?
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you’re too rich to end up dead in a ditch
[ people would ask questions. family, classmates, fucking lacrosse coaches. their similarities can only go so far, knowing that. ]
i mostly do blowjobs 👍
but here’s hoping
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That's a lot of attention to detail you're paying there.
You're good at those, too.
You're pretty much good at all of it.
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[ he types and deletes, like, five different responses. ]
c’mon
you really don’t have to fuck with me
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I don't think I ever even knew what fear was until I joined the army. I don't actually have any real problems.
Just miserable to be miserable, I guess.
[ the worst kind of miserable. the kind that no one should feel sorry for except himself. he watches the dots appear and disappear several times. ]
You're the one who doesn't have to do anything, remember?
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[ even now, when he’s making a poor attempt to shake embry off. ]
well
i sound like an asshole
i AM an asshole, when the sentry powers kick in
sorry
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It’s not on you that I thought I was
I don’t know
Good enough for you.
I don’t care about your whole deal.
I mean, I do. A lot. Just not in the way I think you think I do.
Why aren’t you asleep?
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sure
[ i don’t believe you, a childish impulse in the face of conflicting messages. embry defined what they had going as fun right before he ended it. and no self-esteem crash accounts for being sick or panicking like that. he’s not going to forget embry accusing him of being somebody else anytime soon. maybe ever. worse, bob thinks he was an asshole then, too, letting his own hurt override the instinct to care for the person in greater distress.
embry was right to prefer him in the gutter. ]
i’ve got a lot on my mind
and the powers put everything in overdrive
pacing this place in designer sneakers doesn’t really wear me out
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I'm guessing none of the things we did before will work. With you and your sentry thing.
Close your eyes and count some sheep. Or I can send you some nudes if you want. I have some really excellent ones.
And my nudes don't talk back. That's gotta get them some points.
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you said that
not me
so no thanks on the pity nudes
[ typed and deleted: sorry if that seemed like an opening. it kind of was? but it’s a bad idea. ]
i’ll figure something out
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I've never sent you a nude.
If you're really not in the mood, I have an incredibly fucked up picture of my corpse I could use instead.
Actually, I have several. Rate your interest from 1 to 10.
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that’s not funny
jesus christ
negative ten for both
i’m not in the mood for you messing with me
i just don’t want to be alone
so i’m going to stop messaging you
and find somebody who gives a shit
or pretends to
guess i’m not a good judge of whether they mean it
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It is about as weird as you might imagine. One of those things you just can’t stop looking at.
I have no idea when he might drop Ash’s. Or to who.
And I can only imagine what they look like.
[ when he’s not thinking about bob, he’s thinking about this. constantly.
that stings. a lot. he writes several responses — i do care. i always cared. i’m not that fucking cruel. fuck you. — and quickly deletes them all. this is for the best for both of them, right? it’s better this way. ]
Who’s on the list for your late night booty calls?
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[ the fucking autopsy photos, not the booty call shortlist, which he’s ignoring. ]
i’m sorry, embry
that’s the most fucked thing i’ve heard since we stopped killing each other
[ a beat, in which he considers telling embry to delete the photos, or maybe asking him if he’s alone instead of with ash and greer. he must be, if he’s looking into the blue light for answers. ]
you want me to send his phone flying into jonty’s porridge tomorrow?
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It's so cute when you pretend to still care about me.
He's got a hidden stash of sick photos like the world's biggest creep. You'd have to blow up the whole house to get rid of them.
Wait, so how much can you really do? Can you blow this place up?
Can you feel what my fingers are doing?
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even though i’m pissed at you
[ meaning hurt by you, but that’s too honest (and pathetic). ]
i could do a lot worse than that
did you listen to anything stephen said about me?
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What's worse than blowing up the house and killing us all?
Yeah, I listened. Skeptically.
Okay, half-listened. Everything he was saying sounded completely fucking ridiculous, and I had personal reasons to not support your public crucifixion.
Anyway, I know you wouldn't hurt anyone on purpose.
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