[Closed] Can you forgive me for trying again?

[firewalled]

Who: Rich, César, Johnny, and Watson
What: Rich gets a very strange regain, and doesn't realize it's meant to make him question everything his poorly constructed support network hinges on. Embarrassment ensues.
When: June 19th
Where: Cabin 102
Warnings: Likely mentions of alcohol addiction and child abuse.

[The day after the excursion team returns back to the ship is... peaceful, somehow. After the mess that was his conversation with Johnny, Rich had been expecting to wake up with a guilty migraine and the miserable nausea that comes after a good cry, but surprisingly, he wakes without much complaint, and after sneaking some more chocolate from César's drawer, he's feeling well enough to get out of bed, and is actually considering going to the buffet for something substantial to eat when he opens the door and is face to not-face with Friday.

There's envelopes in his hands moments later. He reads the top one, for César, and tries to protest these clearly aren't for him, but she's already off again. She's really bad at answering questions, huh? Granted, that's probably because she's too busy to stick around and have an existential chat.

Well, Rich doesn't mind being the mailman. He's pretty sure his roommate spent the night canoodling with his boyfriends, and now that he's checked the other envelopes, it looks like the other two are addressed to those men. He can get this done quickly before breakfast, surely. It just means he'll end up having to enjoy a good brunch instead.

He knocks on the door to the cabin before checking to see if there's a slipper propping the door open.]

Hey! Are you all decent in there? I don't wanna see a lick of PDA before I come in, alright?

Comments

[businessorlibation]

You want to see us licking each other? We can make that happen.

[He's not serious at all, as he moves to open the door for Rich. He's dressed casually, by his standards--button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up, slacks, feet bare. Yeah, there might have been canoodling going on at some point, but he's decent now.]

[pineapplesalmon]

Hmm. That is something we could add to our repertoire....

[Also not serious. He's wearing a branded t-shirt, pajama pants, and no socks, sitting on the couch with a book. There was definitely canoodling at some point, but they're clearly taking a break, now. César hasn't put up his hair yet, so it's partially in his face.]

I cannot brain brackets, carry on as you were, i'll just be weird

[lightconductor]

"Gentlemen, please," Watson says in vain, though there's laughter behind his words. For his own part, he's chosen a short-sleeved button-up shirt and some khakis, also with bare feet. Because bare feet are apparently the thing today. He has also been lounging on the couch, but he sits up straighter when he sees it's Rich.

not weird at all <3

[firewalled]

You guys are nasty! I didn't mean that and you know it!

[Rich strolls into the room in his usual loud t-shirt and cargo shorts he's obtained from the Tommy Bahama. He's got sandals on though. He's not going to go strolling around in bare feet in the hallway like a weirdo. Gross.

He passes one envelope to Johnny, and then passes the other two to Watson and César with a little shrug.]

Got a delivery for you guys. Not sure what they're about, but Friday gave them to me this morning, so I guess I've been hired as a temporary mailman.

Fuck it, I'm prosing too

[businessorlibation]

"How odd." Johnny gingerly opens the envelope, pulling out the construction paper card made in a kindergarten class with a curious, confused expression on his pale visage. He lifts the card, smells it, and then gives Rich a questioning glance.

Because he already has suspicions.

I DECLARE FORMATTING ANARCHY

[pineapplesalmon]

There's a teasing smirk at Rich before the subject changes entirely.

César takes his envelope and looks at it, perplexed.

"That is odd...." César murmurs his agreement, then opens his after he sees Johnny do so.

For a moment, his brow furrows more in confusion until he processes the date and then—it slams into him. Rex drew cards like this... Mama helped him with the words when he was too little to make them himself. Rich's mother is gone like César's mother, too. And so is César's father. And this is César's first Father's Day without him, isn't it? It is. The date....

"This is—" He looks up to Johnny, seeing he's opened a card, too, seeing the stain on it, the whiff of beer, glancing towards Watson as his expression starts to fall in grief for Rich and himself.

oh my god what did I do

[lightconductor]

Watson, for his part, ends up with a faint cascade of fine glitter over his hands, which of course sticks to his palms and his pants and everything else it comes into contact with. This is the work of a very small child, and for a moment his heart seems to clench.

He looks up, at the other cards, and then at Rich, his brow furrowed.

"Rich..."

VIVA LA REVOLUTION

[firewalled]

"Yeah, right? Tried to ask her about it, but she was gone before I could..."

He trails off as he sees their distressed faces, his curious smile fading into a look of concern. "What? What is it?" He didn't deliver a bomb, did he?

No, he sees the paper Johnny's holding, with the smudged handprint on it. He remembers a craft like that in kindergarten, where everyone had to put their handprint on a piece of paper to show how fast they were growing. He can barely remember, but it was typical for a lot of classes to do something like that on... a special day...

He goes pale as he looks at the other cards and starts putting the pieces together. "Huh? You all got cards...? Weird, ahah, I mean, what's the occasion?"

He knows what the occasion is. He had just forgotten until now... he hasn't celebrated it for a decade, after all.

[businessorlibation]

Johnny holds up the card so Rich can read his child-self's handwriting. "César, remember when you asked me if I wanted to have kids? I think my answer's changed somewhat."

Considering that answer had been 'what the fuck, César?', that's not really saying too much, but like. Yeah, this is their boy, and they are fathers.

"Not entirely, but somewhat."

[pineapplesalmon]

César lets out a bit of a snort at the glitter, completely out of character for the situation, and then looks up to Johnny as he speaks. He glances at Rich, who's gone pale, and then idly flips his card open to see the Dad Dad Dad Dad Dad repeated all over. That card also gets lifted to show Rich.

"I'd say this is fast, but we three were desperately together in a month's time right after I asked that question." A wibbly smile. "And certainly a far simpler solution than an external apparatus and minor medical procedures I was thinking of."

Then, to John, about the apparatus. "I'll explain later." And to the room at large, a solemn sort of happiness. "The occasion is Father's Day in Mexico, Argentina, the United States, the United Kingdom, and throughout Europe."

[lightconductor]

"Well, I've never heard of the holiday, but the name is self-explanatory."

He sounds hoarse. Watson claps a hand over his mouth -- there is definitely glitter in his moustache now, it will probably be there forever -- in an attempt to hold back some of the reaction that's running through him. Are they being made fun of, perhaps? Is this a cruelty aimed at Rich, at all of them? The gifts in general are so inscrutable, and it's hard to assign a motive.

He'd also somewhat come to terms with the idea that he would never have children of his own.

Words are failing him. He moves forward, taking hold of Rich by the arm. Watson's expression is nothing short of terrified, and there's a gleam in his eyes of emotion threatening to spill over. "Rich."

[firewalled]

Johnny holds up the card, and there's no more pretending these are just familiar anymore. They're his old cards. It's clear in every crease in the paper. He's pretty sure he's shaking, in disbelief, in anger, in utter terror. He wants to disappear, but there's nowhere to run to.

"I..." he stammers and sputters, practically hearing his mind creaking as it attempts to justify what's happening before him. His face heats up with shame. "It's not fast because it doesn't mean anything, okay? It's a sick joke!"

And of course these assholes would play into it. It's so easy. Rich makes himself such a good target. They can give him platitudes and of course he'll believe them, so desperate for attention that he'll cry in their laps...

He feels a hand on his shoulder and nearly flinches away. He finds himself about to snap again, but Watson's expression cows his anger... if only slightly.

"Don't... don't look at me like that, okay? It's... it's just cruel." The cards or the hope hearing his name gives him? It's unclear.

[businessorlibation]

"Cruel?" Johnny falls silent for a second after he repeats that word aloud, tilting his head slightly to one side. "I don't understand. Why do you think it's cruel?"

It's gentle, prodding at the bruise to understand its shape better, trying to gently get under Rich's skin instead of taking a blunt instrument to it and making things worse.

This metaphor was a mistake.

Later that Father's Day, late afternoonish?

[pineapplesalmon]

César does a good job of keeping it together while he's around his boyfriends and Rich. Or when he's just around his boyfriends. But now that he remembers what day it is, it's only a matter of time before he needed some time alone to process his grief.

Every time another milestone passes, César's reminded of everything he's lost. Everything. There's potential with Rex, but only if everything lines up perfectly. Being loved here is the only thing that makes it bearable at all.

Rich is out when he enters the room. Good. He'll have some time to himself, probably, because the kid likes to keep himself busy. César drops to the couch and pulls out his phone to start scrolling through family photos.

Here, he has room to process his grief. Shed tears privately until he cries himself out, then put on his usual smile and go back into the world. If it gets to be too much, he knows he can just go down the hall and be held.

Or, at least, that's the plan. He's partway through executing it, to the point where his tears have required a second handkerchief, when the door knob turns. César freezes while staring at his phone, realizing he's been had with tears going down his face.

[firewalled]

After the embarrassment with his childhood cards, Rich had needed some air. Sure, things had gone okay - he hadn't been totally scorned, at least, and the men also understood his reservations about admitting to closeness - but he felt it was best for everyone if he took a little walk to think about everything and try to avoid snapping at anyone.

He's feeling a lot better when he approaches the cabin, far less on edge. His emotions aren't threatening to snap him in two anymore, but as he opens the door, he realizes that someone else's may be getting the better of him.

"...César?" he asks quietly, as he closes the door behind him and quickly crosses through the entranceway to where his roommate sits. "You... you doing okay?" Obviously not, idiot. But Rich doesn't know what else to say. He can see the phone in César's hand, and he can guess what might be on it.

[pineapplesalmon]

César looks up and lets out a shaky laugh, wiping at his tears. He smiles in embarrassment. But it doesn't seem like he's about ready to break, at least.

"I'll—be okay. I'm processing grief. Tears often happen when you do that." He jerks his head down quickly to his phone, held landscape, as a sound starts playing, the sound of laughter, a burst of four people all at once: two men, a woman, and a young boy.

Quickly, he pauses it, and new tears go down his face before he wipes them away. "Okay, not that one...."

[firewalled]

"I... I mean, yeah. Crying is normal when you miss someone." He moves closer, startled momentarily by the sound on the phone, but pressing onward to sit beside César. He can see a glimpse of the video on the phone, with a boy who looks a lot like a younger César beaming on screen. He puts the pieces together rather quickly after that.

"...I guess it'd be hard not to miss your family, after what we talked about." Rich has been dealing with the faint ache of missing his mother for so long that their discussion wasn't completely overwhelming for him, but he recalls that César lost his parents a lot more recently.

[pineapplesalmon]

It certainly is easy, what with César's preference for vests and wearing his hair in a quiff since he was young. He looks at the paused video for a moment: he's definitely barely an adult in this video with a very young Rex wrestling with him. César turns off his phone, putting it back into one of his pockets.

"It's my first Father's Day without Papa." César smiles sadly. "I had to set a reminder to give me some weeks to come up with a present. But... I deleted that reminder when my Mother's Day reminder went off. Until you got those cards, I had completely forgotten what day it was."

[firewalled]

He looked so similar... even barely an adult, he looked just the same in that hidden video as he does now. He supposes that must make the image of his parents, now gone, hit him even harder. After all, if so little time has passed and César has barely changed, why should his parents now be gone?

Rich listens attentively to his roommate's explanation, and almost immediately, guilt settles hard in his ribcage. He winces softly and wrenches his eyes away from the video. "I-I'm really sorry. I should have at least checked what they were before giving them..."

[pineapplesalmon]

That is the gist of it. Everything stayed the same until it didn't.

César is definitely not taking out his phone again. At least not for a little bit. He wipes at his face more readily to make sure he's gotten most of the tears and then blows his nose. And uh, he's going to grab a wipe out of the nightstand to quickly clean his hands. Because mucus is gross.

Which delays his response, and he speaks softly when he does finally say something. "It's not your fault." He smiles up to Rich sadly. "And it helped me realize I'm... ready for some sort of memorial service."

[firewalled]

Rich is quiet as César takes the time to compose himself, not really doing anything besides rubbing his roommate's back and just... waiting for him. To say what he needs to, or to do what he feels is right, or just to tell Rich to fuck off if that's what he feels.

That, naturally, doesn't come, but Rich can't help but keep it in mind. For now, he just tries to be supportive. "A memorial service sounds like a good idea. Did you even get to have a funeral for them...?"

[pineapplesalmon]

The hand making circles on his back helps, and his muscles relax under it as he composes himself.

César shakes his head at the question, expression just melting into something sad. "Not even obituaries. Or flowers. Or condolences."

He shrugs without it energy, looking down at his own lap. "Everyone at Providence acted like everything was normal when I was onboarded. I... I didn't want to rock the boat by grieving or addressing my loss. So I didn't. Not until those that might've noticed all left. And then I was too alone to face it."

[firewalled]

"That's extremely fucked up. No wonder you'd need something for that... I don't know who exactly you worked for, but they sound like the kind of toxic bosses to end all toxic bosses. The least they're supposed to do is give you a couple days off for a funeral."

Rich sighs heavily. "But... I guess I understand. Why you felt like grieving would just get you in trouble."

[pineapplesalmon]

César goes quiet, thinking of what to say next, rubbing his goatee in thought, despite his downward expression. "There's several additional factors... enough that we're getting a bit off base."

He's quiet again, because much of this was sensitive. "... I was certain and later proven correct Providence was being funded by a nasty group of individuals, and I needed to not act too broken up about it. Knowing what I know now about the people that left—that information would've never gotten back to them."

A pause. "... but perhaps they didn't believe my story about how I was displaced in time. My lab has engines considered 'theoretical' to most. The closer you get to light speed, the more your time slows down. As I said before: I experienced fifteen minutes. Earth experienced five years. It sounds impossible even for my world. Then add in the fact I was trying to pretend I was okay, and, well. You still would've thought they'd at least offer their condolences, even then...."

César shakes his head and rubs at the bridge of his nose. "This is the first time I've really let myself think about this, to be honest."

[firewalled]

Rich is definitely in over his head, trying to relate to any of this. He understands a bit of why César was so protective of him now, if he had to deal with that kind of paranoia every day... but aside from that, he's floundering.

"It sounds like it'd be awful, looking over your shoulder all the time like that. Not to mention the weirdness of time for you. I mean... I've really only had part-time jobs once or twice, so I can't even think about what that'd be like, but it, um."

He hesitates for a moment, but forces himself to continue. "It really sounds like you let work take over everything else in your life. And now that you're on the ship, you have no choice but to let it catch up to you."