papalobo | Day 263 - Wednesday, September 10th

Day 263 - Wednesday, September 10th

[By morning, Max's texts are mostly jibberish but the article he delivers to Peter at 3:30 AM is well polished, especially given in the e-mail and subject body the entire line was off by one or more--- 'yjr stiv;r er ys;lrff snnpiy' for 'The article we talked about' and the body was similarly incoherent.

Everything hurts. He knows Ash would tell him to take a damn sleeping pill already. He knows a lot of things. He knows Ash is tired of his pity party. He knows even if Ash were to tell him something comforting, he wouldn't believe it. But being in this brain-rotted state of sleepless delirium is actually further from consciousness. In sleep, he dreams, and there he is. Right now, there's a state as far from himself, as if his self has decayed, like inebriation, and that's nice enough he decides it calls for some actual inebriation. They've got hard liquor and his publication calls for some, so he's going to toast to himself at sunrise, and let the cats hear him tell them in loud, slurring detail about the time Eiji saved Ash in the sewers, that their Ash is all sewer stinky now again, and that Ash won't come home because he's fantasizing about better times with a better useless sidekick, and also he's probably blowing Blanca to get magical answers, or maybe just because he likes men who can react. At any rate, they should come outside with him he decides, and he will also pour alcohol into shot glasses that he'll set on the ground level for them.

By 8:00, he's Shawn's problem. His texting skills have deteriorated enough to switch to voice.

Shawn puts up with it for about fifteen minutes, but he's got things to do, like wait in the bar for Ash to wake up and see how things have been going.

He is then Jenkins's and Charlie's and even Kent's problem. All of them are surely grateful to Ash for having encouraged him to build and reach out to a friend group a little more.]

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You're as fine as I am.

[ He really isn't hungry. Half the omelet is all he can do. ]

I'm not that fucked up.

I hope Sing isn't either.

[ Standing, he leaves the omelet to look for the cats. He has to leave again today. ]

[And Max is like this, instead of just stuffing it down, playing Eiji (badly) and letting Ash deal with things only he can. Max's answer to feeling useless is to become even more dead weight.

Ash is suffering. That much is real and clear. As usual, his capacity to do anything about it is less existent than the fuzzy humanoid shadows and lights that sometimes form in his vision. Max goes to look for another bottle; it's hard not to hope the meds he knows he's going to have to take react with whatever alcohol he can get down. If he doesn't wake up, as much as he hates to see while he's asleep, it's better.

Of course he doesn't drink enough to think that's likely. It'd be really inconvenient to Ash who needs him to be a Potemkin right now.

Why the hell isn't Blanca helping him and just making this all better?

Because Ash is busy humoring Max. Blanca, too, likely resents Max cutting into his Ash time, his Ash exclusivity.

The kid's being forced to make an unfair choice between someone he already signed on with in a contract, and someone who could actually help him. But fuck Blanca for not helping him, for some petty reason like that. Not that Max himself is much better, breaking down like this to avoid seeing dreams of the two of them.

Eiji is Ash's only salvation.

The cats are now in the corner of the office. That's where Max spent most of the last few days, so that's their 'space' now. There's a stack of handwritten papers that make up the start of Ash's biography, and many scattered notebooks and an out-of-charge tablet around the presently locked computer.]

[ He doesn't snoop. Not that he's against it, but he has to get the cats and the pills, and he has to meet Shawn again. Ash keeps wires, as odd a think as it may be to keep. When he emerges, he has the cats in one hand in the pill bottles in another.

He'd prefer not to think of the biography. ]

I have to meet with Shawn for lunch. He's going to talk to Ling.

Tellin' me all the balls in the air on this one won't juggle m--won't. I won't... be no help looking for... the things. I know.

You've not been clued in because every time I text to clue you in, you've been pissy. I could've used your help with Jenkins. I wanted to bounce the Shawn idea off of you, but when I start to bring it up, you tell me how useless you are.

You were too busy telling me you're useless to be my partner in it.

The article is coming out at a good time.

[What the hell else can be do, even bouncing the idea off of him? It's not like he had any alternatives, nor is he going to ever actually think of a damn thing Ash doesn't.
He's not Blanca. He can't be on an even playing field. He'll always just be dead weight, no meaningfully different from Eiji. That's the one through train of thought that keeps making sense, no matter how much he wants to drift mentally away into nonsense.

But Ash only sees it as self pity holding himself back, rather than an inherent uselessness.

He gets it. He wants Max to try. Eiji, despite being, well, Eiji, tried.

He eyes the pill bottle. Even if any overdose was purely accidental, if he dies, Ash blames himself and feels worse, somehow.

The most he can do is try to roleplay Eiji for him. It doesn't matter if it's all fake. Ash wants him to try, the same way he wants to keep cute but useless cats around.

What's the most Eiji like thing to do in this situation, then?]

Sorry.

[ Ash knows Shorter is effecting his decision. Max might have been more practical about it. No one else knows about what happened.

Idly, he opens the bottle and slides the pills, the right number, toward Max. ]

Sleep. Today. I'll argue with you when your brain can argue back.

I hate sleeping.

[It's a complaint to himself as he scoops them up and swallows them, talking as if Ash isn't really able to hear things not meant for him.]

[ Unfortunately, he can. ]

What are the nightmares about?

[ He's too familiar with them to not know the implications of that statement. ]

[Like he's going to let Ash take any more problems on right now.]

The waking up part feels like a hangover, that's all.

[He reaches out clumsily, musing Ash's hair with his bloody-eyed attempt at a smirk. As if touching him doesn't make him think of a whiter hand touching him with more finesse.]

Liar.

[ He feels worse when not sleeping than he would from waking up. ]

Is that why you decided to act like a mad teenage girl the day after we had sex three times? A nightmare?

A mad teenage girl, huh.

It doesn't inspire confidence when you're trying to explain your plans to somebody in case you end up missing, and their reply is 'k'.

You think I like knowing you're telling me you might go fishing--missioning.... the thing, when I know you know I no can--I can no... I can't do anything about it if you do?!

Keep me in the loop like I matter, leave me out like an idiot, everything---every way---it all sucks!

You're not letting me bring you into the loop because YOU decided it doesn't matter! I made the choice of who I wanted help from, and you decided I didn't! You're handicapping yourself and then crying about the handicap!

[He's mad enough to stand up, slamming his hands into the table, only to then realize the futility of it, or maybe the drugs have hit him enough to find that more emotion, more cognizance than he can maintain.

He sinks slowly back down.]

Yeah.

[Just agree and fake it, same as Ash faked it in bed for him. But they both know Ash never felt that way about him before he finally let himself fuck Blanca. This is just disappointment in Max not meeting his expectations, and blaming Max instead of his expectations, now skewered because he finally let himself have who Max knew damned well was always a threat in that realm. He was usually right about those things. Ash is the one who doesn't know his own feelings.

But that's fine. As long as Max fails with a pleasant, try hard demeanor, just like Eiji but not as good, Ash will settle for him. It's just a matter of waiting for when he fucks Eiji, too. He was right about Blanca, he's right about Eiji.

Now he gets to go to sleep and watch the movie of it all.]

You're right. That's what it is.

[ He misses Max. It's a cruel feeling. Max is going through a lot, and Ash isn't helping him, so he does hate the part of him that can't just handle this until it's better. Between therapy and cheating, he's had to endure a lot. Because of Ash.

He won't read the biography. He doesn't need to. He never really need to. It was a momentary lapse in judgement. Even then, Ash knew he wasn't a good person, but he thought maybe... Maybe he wasn't entirely a monster. As Max sinks back down, he knows it was a stupidity.

Who blames their partner for suggesting after having a reason to suffer.

Max would do better without him. Suddenly, with a clarity that had been missing in the past even when it seemed just as obvious, Ash knows. He'll suffer in the beginning. Make dumb mistakes. Max likes dumb mistakes. But like he had with Jessica, he'd heal. He'd move on. It's not actually a new realization, but it's been a selfishness that held it back. Ash doesn't want what they had to be over, but how far is he going to drag Max with him?

After the therapy is over. When he knows Max can't permanently injure himself. ]

Head upstairs before you're too tired to make it.

Help me.

[Max makes no motion to stand up at all.]

[ It's a fair request considering his injuries so Ash moves to this side without complaint. ]

[Instead of moving to get up or even pulling an arm around him as if to get leverage, he leans against him.

He'll miss Ash. When he sleeps, he knows he'll wake up wishing he hadn't. He knows in that sweet spot where he thinks it's possible again, where he decides anything's better than not being with Ash.

Eventually Ash will leave him again. Eventually, Max won't be pathetic enough to make him stick around out of pity, but he won't be enough to keep him, either.

He doesn't want this clarity. He's supposed to be even more disjointed than drunk. This is clarity enough for immediately coherent dreams.]

[ It's frustrating. It's so frustrating that he wants to punch something, but there's nothing to punch. There's nothing to kill. Max is right here, and he's hurting, and Ash knows leaving won't heal anything. It'll stop future pain, but it won't fix this one. ]

Think a psych textbook will have a chapter on how to fix it after you cheating?

[ His voice is as tired as Max looks. He knows he's screwed up. ]

S'not about that. I told you t'do it.

It is, and we both know it. Now you're comparing yourself to a guy who spent his entire life training under special conditions and deciding because you can't match him, you're useless like I can even match him.

What's your answer when you ask yourself why I'm not sitting back and letting him handle it?

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