What Do They Want?

[Chuck Carmichael] Monday Afternoon
Chuck: in (pajama-type) boxers and a t-shirt, computer parts everywhere, looking at a freshly designed case with the ReBoot logo and the various components going into it - high end graphics (both manipulation and display) and gaming machine this, and Chuck is an artist in this sense if no other. There's a sugar-free Redbull at hand, about two thirds gone, and some classic rock (Rush's Tom Sawyer, at the moment) playing loud enough in the background that one can hear it upon coming even with the door.

It's a day, and better than that, it's a day off.

[Molly Quincannon] Molly only realises that she's turned up unannounced when the music filtering into the hallway, but when she does, there's a certain amount of facepalm but ... well, at least he's in. There's a moment of debate but ... well, he turned up unannounced last time, so surely it's not so bad, right?

Whatever makes her decide on this particular course, she rings the doorbell rather than doing the somewhat ridiculous thing of texting him from outside his front door. Physically, she looks fine - pale, but fine. Emotionally ... she's somewhere between 'ragged' and 'devastated', with a lot of 'confused'.

[Chuck Carmichael] It takes a moment - music gets quieter - but then there he is, opening the door with that same friendly look he usually wears. Unannounced and unexpected don't equal unwelcome, after all, even before he realizes who's there. He looks at her for a second or two, then wraps his arms around her in a hug before he's so much as invited her in. It doesn't last terribly long, but it's there - the feeling of a shoulder to cry on, a best friend, envelopes, and stays even when he lets go.

"Come in. I think the couch is clear enough to sit on."

[Molly Quincannon] The hug more or less opens the floodgates, though she at least manages to get as far as the interior of Chuck's condo with the door shut behind her before she starts crying. It's not so much bursting into tears as it is one of those slow, painful, ripping kinds of crying jags - the way people cry when they haven't done it in a very long time and really aren't happy with the idea of doing it now. The couch may be clear enough to sit on, but that might take some nudging; it tends to be a bit hard to walk anywhere when vision's impaired in that way. Instead, she leans a shoulder against the wall, wraps her arms around herself and chokes out, of all things, "........sorry."

[Chuck Carmichael] He lets her get through the first bit, an arm going around her again once they're shut in the condo - there's sun streaming through the doors to his small balcony and the room is full of warm, earthy colors - not to nudge, but to offer comfort. After that will come nudging towards the couch so he can get her a glass of water, then coming to sit next to her.

"Don't apologize. What's wrong?" He knows the obvious, of course - what happened with the Nephandi not so long ago, and at least the basics of what's coming up - but to see Molly like this is something different. "What happened?"

[Molly Quincannon] Molly at least has the presence of mind to put the glass of water down before the flailing starts. "I just ... I don't know what everyone wants me to do, okay? I've got Thomas telling me that I'm not well and I need to settle down and deal with what's happened and then I've got Nat telling me that I've got to carry on and live my life and put all the stuff that's going on in my head out of my head but that I'm also supposed to talk to her about it even though she yells at me when I do and now she's apparently burned out on it and I don't even know anymore!" She heaves in a breath and starts again. "It's not like I'm deliberately not sleeping or that I can really afford the Paradox fuckery that would result if I blotted out the nightmares all the time - not to mention the psychosis because I'm not sure I'm good enough for directed dream-tweaking yet; just shutdown, which is bad - or that I can really help it when some creepy creepy fucker who feels like Nephandus minus taint gets in my face because I don't consider 'who the fuck are you?' to be a civil greeting! What do these people want from me?!?"

[Chuck Carmichael] ".....'who the fuck are you' isn't a civil greeting. It's a pretty asshole thing to say, in fact. As for the rest . . . I think they're just worried about you, and once you're re-balanced and normalized and everything, they'll stop harassing you about it. But you have to let yourself get there for that, you know?"

He sighs and opens his arms so that she can rest against him if she wants, but doesn't push it - he doesn't push much of anything where other people are involved, really.

"I don't have a psych degree or anything, but that's what it sounds like to me, anyway. And if your buddies don't want to talk about it . . ." He doesn't know as far as that one goes, really, other than, "You can always talk to me, if you want. And while compartmentalizing is useful for short periods of time, yeah, doing it long-term is bad."

[Molly Quincannon] The open arms are an invitation, and that invitation is gratefully accepted; she rests her head on his shoulder and snuggles a bit. "I am trying to let myself get to that point, y'know?" The sobbing's tapered off, though it's still there; given that it's the first time she's actually cried about this mess (or indeed cried at all since Zoot died, though that part Chuck likely doesn't know), it's not likely to just stop entirely after a minute ro two. "Nat bitches about how I need to start doing non-death-defying stuff again, which is all I've been doing since the deal with the Chinatown opium den. I built a sonic screwdriver and a monster Habitrail and started up a couple of other projects but it's not like she asks. All she asks is what's wrong and I tell her and she flips out on me! Intellectual curiosity about a point of view is going to lead me to books and trusted information sources, not get me infiltrating a Labyrinth undercover to get answers - I hadn't even thought of that until she accused me of wanting to do it, and not even I'm that stupid!"

Then she sighs. "I appreciate the offer, Chuck. I'd love to take you up on it? But the last time someone said that to me, it was Nat. I told her what was going through my head and I got an earful of profanity, accusations of being closed off and untrusting when I reacted badly to the screaming freak-out, and now the 'I am burned out; get over it and talk to me if you need me but get over it' treatment. I ... don't know if I could take that right now. Not that I think you would, but ... I didn't think she would either. Plus I don't want to scare you."

[Chuck Carmichael] "Well . . . there are more tactful ways she could have said it, but I'd worry a bit too if you started talking about a lack of understanding of something like that. You do have a tendency to dive into things head first, from what I've seen, and to think that you can do it all," he says, and then sits quiet for a long moment, running a hand over her shoulder. "I'd hope, though, that it wouldn't extend to all that. We all have enough trouble without one of our own going to the dark side."

Again, there's quiet and the comfort of resting against someone who practically tingles with the whole 'friend' vibe; maybe that's a good thing. Talking doesn't always solve problems, and Chuck certainly doesn't have the answers to everything, or necessarily anything. But he does answer the last, too.

"Well then. I have broad shoulders and lots of video games. I often find that a rising frag count - or Tetris score - makes me feel better."

[Molly Quincannon] She straightens up enough to look up at him. The look is indescribable - horror and anger - neither really directed at him ... and a very strange sort of revelation. "Chuck. They did something to my nerves, a half-hour in. I don't know what. Israel wouldn't tell me. But it felt like tiny things with acidic toxic waste coating sharp pointy teeth were eating my nervous system. That was on top of the other things - they couldn't do any mundane physical damage because my physical state after the gunshots were too bad, but they found a lot of ways to abuse Life magic and make me suffer. In the face of all that, they still couldn't make me turn. I may not understand why people would want to destroy an entire universe including themselves, but ... I could never want that, even if I did understand it. If they couldn't torture me into it, what makes anyone who knows me think that trying to make it make sense would make me turn?"

[Chuck Carmichael] "Oh, I don't necessarily think you would. I just . . . think there are things you can't unsee, you know? And there's that quote about looking into the dark for too long, or about fighting monsters and becoming one. Cliches get that way because they're at least based in truth, is all. And under those circumstances - the ones where you went looking to learn more - who knows? It's different than resisting someone . . ."

There's a full stop, then, horrified, as he looks at her - over every inch again, as if to make sure she's okay, as if this hasn't all already been taken care of long before she came back to him. ".....you're alright, though. Nervous system-wise, I mean. The rest . . . will take time, and it doesn't strike me as you wallowing or whatever, not by any stretch."

[Molly Quincannon] She deals with the last first - with a sigh. "Yes, my nerves are fine now. Physically speaking, I mean. It ... took Israel time to get it all cleared out, I'm pretty sure. She just left it at 'something that kept me in constant pain and prevented me from losing consciousness'. But ... yeah, that all got ... cleansed, I think is how she put it. Doesn't mean I'm ever going to forget how it ... it felt," she adds with a shudder, "but y'know. No, it's not something I wallow in or dwell on. Mostly ... it was the talking that got to me. More than the pain. The ... teaser-trailer thing. The threats - against my friends, not me, obviously. I just--"

She shakes her head and takes a breath. "It's ... not just curiosity. That ... might be easier. I could tell myself I was being stupid then. I think. It's not just random needing-to-know, though; it's ... harder to fight something if you don't know what you're fighting. Know thy enemy, y'know? It still doesn't mean I'm going to throw myself headlong into talking to the wrong kinds of people and asking the wrong kinds of questions. If I'm going to find out about this stuff, it's going to be books, and Israel, and Wharil. I already promised I wouldn't do anything stupid. But just not trying? Honestly, if Israel and Wharil and Atlas can handle knowing what they know, then ... me learning it from them shouldn't be so bad. Right?"

[Chuck Carmichael] "No, it shouldn't be. And progress is a great thing, and learning is a part of that. All I know is what I see, and that's all we can say for anyone, really, isn't it?" He leans in to kiss her forehead lightly, then pulls back to where he can see her properly, studying her. "It's just, we all want you safe and well, you know. And even if you don't intend to dive into this, we've seen you dive into other things, so we worry."

Or at least he assumes that's Natyana's and Thomas' deal - it's his, anyway. But Molly's smart, and she's tough, and there's only so much he's going to do or say about that kind of thing . . . only so much he can, really. In the right situation, it's quite possible it'd look like he was diving into something, too. (And in the really right [or wrong] situation, he could well be doing just that.)

"But so long as you're in your right head and being smart and safe about it, it's really no one else's business. We all have to go the way that seems right, you know? And who am I - or who is anyone else - to tell you that a certain vein of study is more wrong than any other?"

[Molly Quincannon] "Therein lies the problem; no one seems to think I'm in my right head." Molly rolls her eyes, though the kiss to the forehead gets a smile. "Which ... I guess is kind of right, given ... well, yay for acute stress disorder, but this is different. I'm right-headed enough not to want to go that way. I've had too many nightmares about what would happen if I did. I don't need to actually live it."

Then she shakes her head and takes off her glasses, peering at the salt water stains on them. "I know it's that they care. Really. I just wish they'd make up their minds. Nat's more or less saying 'Your trauma is burning me out but I can't leave you alone because you're going to do something stupid without me and then I will be mired with guilt'. Thomas just yells at me for trying to get on with things and not freaking out in front of him ... which isn't actually conducive to me opening up to the limey bastard. I don't know what I'd do if it was someone else going through this, but I'd like to think that I wouldn't be sending mixed signals and borderline passive-aggressive guilt trips to the effect of 'get better because you're making me nuts', y'know?"

[Chuck Carmichael] "People are inherently pretty selfish and self-centered, I've found - it's all we know how to be. And sure, we try to look past it, but we don't always succeed." He's obviously lumping himself amongst the selfish and self-centered - as a willful person fully capable of altering reality to suit his whims (to an extent, for now), it's nearly impossible not to be. He doesn't know one who isn't. "We're also some of the least patient people I know, with each other especially. Kind of a 'you should know better, get your shit together' kind of mentality. Not saying it's right!"

Because it often isn't, and that line of thought is often as non-helpful as the rest.

"Just that, you know, it happens. So I guess the only thing you can do is try to be patient with and understand the rest of us, just like we're trying to with you. That's hard work even for Sleepers."

[Molly Quincannon] There's a moment of thoughtful mulling at that. Analysis is her thing, and now she is analysing her actions the last few weeks as best she can. Finally, she says, "Yeah, I've been trying. Patience isn't exactly my strongest suit but I have been trying. I just don't know where the line is between 'being patient with people' and 'letting people make me feel like shit because I'm not behaving as they feel I ought'. It's a fine line." She gives a little rueful twist of the mouth and a shrug. "It goes back to the question 'what do people want from me', and I guess the simple answer to that is 'for me to be better'." She looks away, towards the floor. "I wish it was that easy."

There's a bit of a pause, and then she says, teasing but not exactly joking, "If I said that it might be easier if, after this Sullivan thing is dealt with, I just took off for a few weeks ... you'd give me a logical explanation for why it'd be a sucky idea to be wandering around on my own, right? Y'know, beyond 'people would flip the hell out'?"

[Chuck Carmichael] "Nope, I wouldn't. Everyone needs to go off grid, sometimes - last time I needed one, I went camping in northern Michigan by myself for a week. Left everything but my 'Berry behind and didn't answer any calls except for from my friend Steve. Came back and my head was a lot straighter and I was a lot more useful not just to everyone around, but myself. I'd advise you to be careful if you're going to wander around on your own around Chicago, is all."

So easy going, he - it's hard to imagine a time he was wrong-headed enough to need that kind of break (or that he went anywhere without eight kinds of tech and four different ways of communicating with the outside world). But it makes sense, really, in its own way; that's what vacations are for, to rest and rejuvenate.

[Molly Quincannon] Molly looks him over ... then smiles. "Thanks. Though of course, now my logic is telling me that Nat would flip out and send some spirit tracking me, or I'd be worried about her doing so, if I blew town. Besides, in the end, it's just geography." For all she's shooting down her own idea, she truly is grateful, from the look; one person who's not giving her shit over decisions.

She goes back to serious in a hurry, though, as she adds, "Anyway, I've been doing some reading about the whole ... stress disorder thing? And they all say that after something like this, it's best to revisit the scene of the trauma. Which ... in my case is an alleyway and a burned-down art gallery. Neither of which I can go to until this Labyrinth thing is shut down once and for all, but when this is done ... I'm going to have to go ... I guess deal with it. Or at least confront it. Dunno if it's best to do that alone or what."

[Chuck Carmichael] "Well, if you decide you need or want company, you can call me. Even if you get there and it's too much." Because it's not just Uncanny that says Chuck's a good friend. "And yeah, I've read that sort of thing, too. Haven't necessarily followed the advice, though. So, I hope it works out."

Of course he's not giving her shit over decisions - not these ones, anyway. The decision to go back to face her demons makes sense, as do the thought of vacation, and her reason for probably not taking one. There's nothing to give her shit over, as far as he's concerned. There are some he may have, even has a bit, but not this.

[Molly Quincannon] A little embarrassed, Molly says, "I ... might take you up on that. Though ... y'know, I don't want to be a cause for yet more freak-out. Though ... I guess you could probably deal with the flashback thing a bit easier than the burned-legs thing. I am so sorry about that." Because of course, she remembers the bit about People setting fire to his house, and she can put things together fairly well recalling his reactions.

Then she sighs. "Okay, there are time limits to this kind of thing. Sorry to have barged in on you all cry-faced and ... the boxers are adorable, by the way. What have you been up to in your day off of spiffiness? And you said something about fragging. I think I could probably handle pixellated fragging, if you were still game." After all, getting used to pixellated people pointing guns at her will probably help if she has to deal with the real thing any time soon.

[Chuck Carmichael] "Freelance building-a-rig job - it's there, if you wanna check it out. I was doing microwave pizza for dinner tonight - that cool, or want me to call for carryout?" And then, there's a glance down at himself, and a smirk. "Thanks. Ever the height of fashion, I. Go ahead and pick a game - my usual is CoD4, but there are a bunch to choose from."

But first, there's another forehead kiss. Then, there's clearing off the couch so there's not only enough room to sit, but enough to spread out and make with the Nintendo lean and all.

[Molly Quincannon] "Whatever works for you; don't want to put you out or anything, since I turned up all unannounced." With that, Molly stops him from pulling too far away after the forehead kiss by gently cupping his face in her hands ... then kisses the tip of his nose. "And thanks. You're the height of fashion and the epitome of awesome." Not-quite-peck on the lips, and she's off to pick out a game as requested.

She does indeed go for CoD4 - true to her word, she sticks to his game plan for the afternoon as much as possible given sudden, random and unexpected acts of Quincannon. And there is microwave pizza and fragging (Molly has a minor issue at first owing to a brief case of the shakes, but gets over it fairly quickly - hopefully it will be as easy to deal with in arr-ell should such be the case) and generally a cosy evening in, however long it lasts.