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[headjacked]

Heyyyyyyyy, kiddo, you've reached me. Me who is Rhys. Anyway, not sure why you're trying to get in contact with the king of the dweebs, but I'm sure you've got your reasons. Reasons you should probably re-examine. I'm just sayin'.

Last chance to back out.

No?

Don't say I didn't warn ya.

Comments

firefox is a butt

[swatsflies]

Oh man. I hope he doesn't describe it.

[ No one needs that kind of lesson ]

<font face="Courier>Videos are even better. Easier to sneak. How in trouble would I be in if I asked Angel when the date is?</font>

day 295; action;

[phaseshifter]

[ Continued from here! ]

What the fuck.

[ Angel has become more forthcoming with The Eff in recent years. Just a bit, mind. You have to deploy your F-bombs with care if you want them to remain effective.

Now, however, is definitely a moment for the most strangled and gobsmacked of fucks. ]

Is that - are you - is - what the fuck, Rhys!

[ Maybe TWO fucks. ]

[headjacked]

[ There’s a moment where the eye goes entirely dark, sickeningly long. He hates the way that makes his abused stomach churn. When the light comes back he exhales sharply, a headache building in one temple.

He needs to not be here right now. She wasn’t supposed to know — he told her he was crushed. Yers and years and years.

So he turns heel and runs. ]

[phaseshifter]

RHYS!

[ You're not getting away that easily, buddy. Pal. Fwiend. Angel hurtles after him immediately, everything pillow-related utterly forgotten.

WHAT THE FUCK, RHYS. ]

GET BACK HERE, ASSHOLE!

[headjacked]

[ He’s running without a destination in mind, just in a blind panic. Rhys hasn’t felt that in such a long time, had it dulled with experience and booze, and it’s back with what feels like twenty years of repression.

He clips a doorway and staggers, pain shooting up his shoulder. That should give Angel enough time to catch up, ]

[phaseshifter]

[ And it does. Angel grabs for the back of his jacket as she reaches him, panting more because of shock than any kind of exertion. ]

What. The fuck. Rhys.

[ She may have forgotten how to say anything else. GIVE HER A MINUTE. ]

[headjacked]

I don’t have any good answers for you!

[ Rhys drops to the ground and out of her grip, then raises his jacket over his head.

He cannot see you, you cannot see him. He is hidden. ]

[phaseshifter]

I'll take shitty answers at this point!

[ Seeing him cowering like that sparks the almnost irresistable urge to boot him. Possibly in the face. With Jack freshly on her mind, though, she manages to settle for just shaking his shoulder.

Roughly. I mean, she mad. ]

Just - why?

[headjacked]

I don’t have answers, period!

[ He shoves her arm away, equally roughly, and seems to be steeling himself for a physical attack ]

I just — it was better if it stopped being your problem at all.

[phaseshifter]

Oh, so you thought you'd just take the choice away from me? You thought that was okay?

Who else knows. Who else has been keeping this from me. And don't lie, because I'll know! You know I'll know.

[ She shoves at him a bit to punctuate her sentence, but it's pretty pappy. GRR. ]

[headjacked]

Yes, because this one was MY PROBLEM from the beginning. And it still is!

[ Rhys hasn’t been that shrill in ages. The shover gets shoved back harder as Rhys recedes further into his jacket cocoon. ]

Just go away.

[phaseshifter]

Excuse me? Just because - you - he's my--

[ Yeah, she's. Not going to finish that sentence. She's angry at herself for even spitting out that much of it, which just means it gets added to her massive list of things to be angry about.

She's also angry at Rhys. And at Jack. And at Norfinbury. And for the way the years have turned them into this. ]

Fine. Maybe I will go away. I'll leave you alone with your secrets and all the mind-numbing substances you can find and I'll go somewhere that I can out-hermit Beckett. Satisfied?

[headjacked]

Your what? He’s not actually your anything, kiddo.

[ That is very much meant to cut, to get her to stop talking, and - yes. Go away.

Rhys doesn’t answer her last point. He drops his jacket and dips into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. ]

[phaseshifter]

[ Oh HELL no. That stings enough for tears to prick at her eyes after Rhys slams the door. Huge, I-am-about-to-start-sobbing-grossly tears.

SHE'S SUPER MAD ABOUT THAT TOO. ]

Okay! See you never, asshole! Unless - unless I freaking die out there, because then I'm sure you'll come get me so that you can carry - carry my useless fucking corpse around for a few years!

[ TIME TO GO GATHER HER SHIT SO SHE CAN FLOUNCE AND NOT CRY, AT ALL, EVER ]

[headjacked]

[ The tears are already rolling down Rhys’ face. He wipes his face and sniffles, feeling the fam burst.

He needs the wine. The wine and Dumpy, just to hold, but they’re all the way out there. Can he get them when Angel leaves?

When... ]

Don’ go.

[ it’s too hard to make that out clearly with the way he’s crying into his knees. ]

[phaseshifter]

[ It's not as hard to make out if you're hoping to hear it. She takes a few seconds to wipe her eyes on her gross tattered sleeve before padding back towards the bathroom door.

Knock knock. ]

Lemme in.

[headjacked]

[ It takes him a few extra seconds, since he has to dry his face too. The door slowly cracks open and Rhys scoots away from it, letting the silent invitation speak for itself. ]

[phaseshifter]

[ Okiedokie. Angel creeps inside - she's not sure why she's being so quiet, but it feels necessary - and hesitates briefly before plonking her butt down next to Rhys'. Close enough for cuddles, if he wants.

She's far too busy picking at the tatters of her sweater to initiate, though. Fortunately, she can still use her words. Woo. ]

I do love you, you know.

[headjacked]

I do. That’s not something I ever really doubt. Hope - hope you don’t either.

[ No cuddles, not yet, but he does take one of her hands off its sweater picking duty and gives it a small squeeze. ]

I really did think it was for the best.

[phaseshifter]

Because you're a dum-dum.

[ The unsqueezed hand delivers a gentle tap to Rhys' head. Bonk. ]

Next time you have a life-altering decision to make, discuss it with Beckett. Or Alfie. Or just hide the evidence in your shorts, nobody would accidentally find it there.

[ HA. On the subject of the evidence, though... ]

Is it... is he broken?

[headjacked]

Iunno.

[ Tentitively, Rhys reaches down and unwinds the cable from his ankle. An angry red rash is left behind in its place.

The light is still on. Still flickers. Rhys’ hand still shakes, but that’s just the norm these days. ]

There’d only be one way to tell...

[phaseshifter]

Ugh, don't. Don't do it. He hasn't seen us for years, can you imagine? We look almost as old as he did. He'd love it.

[ There's mild fondness there, and - shockingly - it's a little infuriating. Fucking Jack. Stupid asshole father. UGH. ]

Iunno who he'd laugh harder at.

[headjacked]

You. Definitely you, with that stripe. I didn’t know that was genetic.

[ She gets a hair ruffle. He’s smiling a lopsided little smile. ]

It wouldn’t be all bad, huh?

[phaseshifter]

It'd be more bad than good.

[ Probably. Maybe.

It's kind of a struggle to imagine how Jack could make anything worse these days, honestly. ]

It's your choice. I suppose you could just yank him back out if necessary.

[headjacked]

...I.

[ His stomach is churning again. A warning, maybe? His body knows something his brain refuses to understand, apparently.

Rhys refastens the eye anklet. Or. Tries to. Shakes shake. ]

I’ll think about it.