parodeity | recollé ic inbox 3.0;

[They're doing their best or whatever. He doesn't even think to ask about what was said inside since again, not his business, but soon the notebook gets tossed back into his 'dex.]

That sucks. Especially since that is not even shit you can really control all the time. [He hears Dave's head hit the headrest and that's about the point he turns his head to look at him, quietly watching for a moment.]

If you want to come next week, I can bring you back next week. No big deal.

It's fine. I can come on my own, you don't have to worry about it.

[ idiotically, his reaction to distance is always one of two extremes: throw more on so you don't have to deal with it, or try desperately to hold on. but the second extreme has become less and less reliable as more and more people who matter leave or forget. it's distance he caused but he's never been great at bridging the gaps.

he hears john move and dave forces himself to look over and does the thing where his breath catches in his throat and his breathing goes uneven for a second because he just stopped for a beat.

what the fuck.

as usual there's absolutely no indication of what he's thinking or reacting to on his face, so that's...whatever that is. ]

[He's about to argue again because for fucks sake, Dave, but Dave stops breathing for even a second and he's suddenly attentive. His eyes are a little wide as he stares right back, unsure of what's causing it this time and unaware that anything has changed. He doesn't know what to make of Dave anymore and he doesn't speak immediately, trying desperately to read his face but he doesn't reply anyway.

So like. Have fun staring at his bright blue eyes, Dave.]

...I don't mind. [It's what he says after a long lingering pause, unsure of where to go and what Dave's thinking or why Dave's staring.]

[ good luck trying to read dave's face?? he used to be a little more expressive before he started reverting, but even back then he didn't do a whole lot. what he does do is start to reach out with his left hand before stalling out and pulling it back because no, we do not touch john, and trying to figure out what the fuck words are.

this is stupid, dave realizes, but he's gotten used to the gray even though he's bitched about it every day and felt how weirdly wrong it was.

he remembers telling eleanor in response to her comment that john was cute that john had lost his killer weapons and why the fuck has he said things like this.

apparently we are still not talking and just staring thanks dave this is helpful ]

[UH. He freezes a bit, waiting for Dave to actually reach out but he watches his hand stop moving and. Kind of just. Proceeds to watch Dave continue to stare for seemingly no rhyme or reason. He's still unsure of what's happening or why this is occurring and his own hand reaches up to brush at his face because he sort of assumes maybe he has something on his face.

It's a startling contrast from the gray, probably, given his eyes are the same deep blue as his font color and Dave's never seen them in this life before. Not really. John hasn't quite caught on that anything's really changed since he hasn't looked at his own eyes since the switch occurred between the time Dave went inside and the time he came back, so he settles for an awkward, safe smile.]

Is...did I say something wrong again?

[ - words. right. yes. you're being weird, dave, holy fuck. dave's left hand is dragged all the way back to his chest and his fingers are still really fucking cold and he rubs them together like that'll help. it never does.

he keeps staring. ]

What?

[ not even gonna pretend he registered what the fuck john actually said, beyond "whoa hey john said words you absolute fucking weirdo, gotta reply to those". ]

Uh. Sure? [ is that the right answer. he doesn't know and there's like twenty remembered conversations from this life and the last fighting for attention as dave rapidly takes stock of exactly what the fuck he's doing right this second what the fuck ]

[...there's a frown because what the fuck, Dave? He seems to have trouble doing anything right these days and he's not sure how to reply immediately. His eyes flick to Dave's hands and he has a fleeting moment of taking them to warm them up like he's done before but holy fuck, that's weird.

Stop it, John.]

Okay well. Sorry. [The tone is a little dry but quiet all the same.] What was it this time? [A slight grin.] Not that I think you will actually tell me, but thought I'd ask.

...What? [ holy shit how many nat 1s can he roll in one conversation - ] I. Can't tell you what I talked about?

[ is this about what he talked about with malik he can't even figure it out and while normally he'd assume john just wouldn't ask, he's not sure what john will or won't do these days. he keeps rubbing his hands together for a second before he just gives up, shaking them out like that'll do it any better and not actually frowning at john because he's still off-balance and trying to catch up.

he's an idiot about noticing when people want him around and about knowing what he's able to ask for from others because of a whole lot of bullshit he never says, but while it's hard to catalogue what he feels sometimes, that's always when it's harder shit: how he felt looking at bro's body, how he felt killing dirk, how he felt dying and dying and dying.

right now he can catalogue exactly what he's feeling and it's mostly lmao you fucking idiot so he just...

tries to put that off to the side and refocus. right. ]

I told him I wouldn't.

[Is there going to be a day this week he doesn't have a headache? Signs are starting to point to "no" and he stares for a moment which probably doesn't help Dave at all. He's still frowning before he reaches over Dave and opens the glovebox, fishing out a pair of gloves and dropping them into Dave's lap before sitting back again.

Even if they're fighting (are they fighting? What the fuck is this?) he can still read some things and he'd rather Dave be somewhat comfortable than continue to be stubborn and stupid in all ways possible.

He can't tell what Dave's thinking or what Dave wants or what Dave needs and now he's even more lost.]

I'm not asking you to tell me that, what the fuck?

[ it's one of those stupid wrong moves anyone could make because it's so fucking mundane, but dave jolts out of his stupor and gathers up the gloves and tosses them back to john. ]

I don't wear gloves. [ simple, not clipped, just a firm statement and it's. true? john has never seen dave in gloves because he just avoids them these days. it's not like they're fingerless like bro's gloves but there's some part of him that tries to steer away from bro's fashion statements aside from the one he won't ditch.

...it's also a little harder to have a secure grip on a sword, for him, when he never trained with gloves. ]

What the hell were you asking, then?

[ dave sounds mostly incredibly confused and more than a little tired. he needs to. stop staring. john probably can't tell how much he is staring but dave forces himself to like, turn around and look out the front window, because god.

he should probably say something about john's eyes, what the fuck. ]

[The gloves are in his hands and it's probably a little weird for Dave since John's eyes are far more expressive now that the color's back. Currently they flicker between annoyed and then mildly hurt and then frustrated before he relaxes and shrugs, turning away to also look out the windshield.]

I was asking if I said something wrong and you agreed to that, but I guess that is not my business either. Sorry I asked.

[ - cool, great job strider, and his hand twitches like he's going to reach out again and there's like five different things he wants to do and all of them are bad ideas and it's a race to see which gets picked first. and the first thing out of his mouth isn't even any of those, but an entirely different bad idea that he has to commit to because he says it: ]

I can walk back. [ blurted out without thinking, because holy shit he wants to not be in this car. or wait, they have to go...ninja. right. when was the last time dave actually slept. ] To the...meeting thing. Nice day.

[ ...it's cold. ]

I can walk there. [ before he says something worse, or before he actually reaches out to touch john, or before - well, it can't be before he completely ruins his friendship, dave's pretty sure he's kind of checked that off the to do list already, but at least he can avoid sitting around lingering in the moment? he's already opening the door again, half-frantic to be moving and gone. ] I didn't. Hear whatever you said, you're - I was - sorry. Bye?

[ what if he just jumps out of the car and absconds instead of dealing like a mature adult completely ignoring the fact this is pointless if he's just meeting up with john. immediately after this. fuck his life!! ]

[Oh god okay haha what no let's not? Dave opens the door and John's hand immediately flies out to wrap around Dave's free wrist so he can't go anywhere.]

Wait! [...well great, now what? What the fuck, this is stupid and he's even more confused and he has to wonder if this has to do with things said in the psych ward or if they're both just fucking crazy or what's even going on because--]

You'll freeze. I'm not letting you walk, are you crazy? [He's trying not to sound annoyed but he's tired and still frustrated and he's pretty sure the universe is trying to push every button he has. He doesn't let go.] What's going on?

[ is it the universe or is it dave strider pushing those buttons, though.

dave freezes when john grabs his wrist but he doesn't even remotely struggle, just kind of staring at his wrist and then over at john, and this time there's visible surprise on his face. sort of. if very barely parted lips qualify as "visible surprise".

he completely misses what the fuck john says, again, and guesses at random: ]

...Yes? [ why doesn't he just admit he didn't catch any of that, again. dave licks his lips, and why is the door open now john isn't wrong about freezing. ] I. Okay, I didn't hear any of that either, what?

[ at least this time he was distracted by actual contact when he's avoided it since wednesday rather than "wow john has really blue eyes", that's. better somehow. ]

[Porque no los dos?

Still, he's keeping his grip firm on Dave's wrist and he's not bothering to let up because he's very confused, as usual, and Dave admits he wasn't listening and he's going pause for a moment.]

...close the door, dude. [He's apparently not saying anything until then. He's still unaware of what the real issue is, and he has zero idea the contact's doing anything either.]

[ for a wonder dave complies immediately? so the contact is probably doing something because he's holding his arm still even as he does. that. shutting the door. he still kind of wants to run the fuck away but he won't as long as john is touching him because he's weak.

...then he can just go back to staring at john, sure. it's cool how it's impossible to see if his eyes are wide ever, because he wears his shades 24/7. ]

[Cool, so Dave can see that John also looks worried as fuck because??? What the hell is going on here?]

Dave, I think maybe you need to go home and get some sleep. You are starting to freak me out a little. [He's still holding Dave's arm and he's staring at him but also:] I don't want you hurting yourself when we're training with the girls.

[Or, like, Dave can explain what the hell his deal is. But whatever.]

[ this time he actually listens. please do not mind dave strider having a Moment, he's. fine probably. ]

I won't hurt myself. I've trained on way less sleep than this. [ apparently we are still protesting sleep even if dave is willing to just sit here quietly as long as john's holding his wrist in place? ]

Okay like. That is probably true because you are sort of insane that way, I get it, but that does not change anything I said? [In that Dave's still freaking him out. Without thinking, his thumb's also starting to move on the inside of Dave's wrist.]

When was the last time you slept? Actually slept for more than an hour or something.

[ yeah, okay, cool. there's a shiver but dave doesn't pull away, still. he automatically leans in towards john like he usually used to when john spoke to him, angling himself towards rather than away. ]

Uh. Tuesday? [ but tuesday was longer than a few days ago for him if he counts loops. he doesn't volunteer that information, but basically saying the day rather than the hour count is...way better sounding.

still sounds terrible! but it's better sounding. ]

[Still clueless. Still just doing this. Still, it's progress (sort of) and at least Dave isn't trying to jump out of the car or anything so John will continue with what he's doing and trying to figure out what the fuck is up.]

And you know it's Saturday, right? [Tuesday was a while ago!!!]

I always know when I am. [ said like "duh". still actually staying in place very docile for the moment, wry tone aside. ]

[It's only because Dave says that that John gets his next idea, and his free hand comes up to grab Dave by the chin and more or less force him to look him in the eyes.]

Let's try again. How many hours has it been since you slept?

[ okay. that's...unfair. stop making him look into john's eyes. dave's perfectly well aware that he actually finds john egbert attractive and this doesn't help. he is also perfectly well aware john isn't going to like his answer to that particular question and that is the more unfair part.

he swallows, and tries to stall. ]

...Are you insisting catnaps don't count?

[ because he'll answer, but. ]

[John continues to remain oblivious to that part but it probably helps he's having his own crisis over stuff. As it is, Dave says that and his eyebrows raise, expression flat and unhappy but he's attempting to be patient.]

Not even close.

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