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[It was different, with Enoch, but not in a good way, Beckett thinks. Brainwashing passes. The Beast is around to stay. He is absolutely not spoiling Rhys's optimism with that tidbit, though.]

More than I'm sure you think. [He's not here to sugarcoat, though, either. He tips his sunglasses down a little, showing a flash of the dull red of his eyes.] It's how I got this. A Clan weakness. But... most, if not all companions I used to travel with were considerably more dangerous than even me.

Even if it was, Iunno, twenty times, in the span of hundreds of years that's not a whole hell of a lot. Like. A .000... 0... many zeros point one percent of the time.

[ If Beckett won't break out the sugar, Rhys well. Though there's logic in the sweetness. A stubborn sort. ]

...but I get it, none of what I'm saying is going to make you feel completely okay. I wish I was that good of a motivational speaker.

I don't want you to make me feel okay. [He wants this not to have happened, which is bizarre because it actually didn't. He thinks. He's taking Rhys's word for it. It is a greater display of trust than he can quite explain.]

How do you know it feels wrong? What - what's the difference?
Perhaps I can see... [Of course he still wants the evidence of his own mind. He always, always does. But he is more than willing to let Rhys guide him.]

Call it a... gut feeling. No, more than that. Hard to describe, but I just know. It doesn't make as much sense, con-contextually.

[ A little more manly then ~I feel it in my heart~, he thinks. Though that is also true. ]

Which, I know, isn't the most reassuring thing in the world, and you're all about definite, absolute proof. With me, I've long since realized that there's... there's always gonna be this uncertainty, this 'what-if'. What if I go bugnuts and rip someone's guts out again? What if we... end up back in cages?

[ Very viseral discomfort, building and building, until he steels his voice and squares his shoulders. ]

You just can't lose yourself in that spiral, or the bad guys win.

[Beckett tries and succeeds in not making a face at 'just know'. It's not his favourite expression, but he's heard it plenty of times, and had cause to accept it often enough. Sometimes instinct just can't come out any other way.]

I am with you on that. Sometimes surely you have to simply go ahead and forge on. Though it's by thinking about the what-ifs that you prepare for them, as much as you can...

[He sees the stiffening in Rhys's pose, and holds it there.]

I hadn't realized you were still so worried about that - about "going bugnuts" again.

Oh, I am, I-- I worry about a whole hell of a lot, since every day here is like... like rolling the dice.

That's... depressing, sorry, I'm being depressing. Super unhelpful.

[ His chin quivers, just a bit. ]

I'm no Angel, am I. Maybe you should talk to her. You. Probably should. Definitely.

[It is pretty depressing, but it's also something familiar, something he can understand and work through. It's certainly easier than the thought of talking to Angel about this.

So, let's just, conveniently not hear that part for now.]

It is what it is. You learn both sides of it in time. Control... and to move on from losing control. Self-loathing gets awfully dull after a while. And you learn that you aren't the worst thing about the world.

[Not his world, at least. Not by a long shot. And this is Norfinbury. Both of them are going to have to work pretty hard to be the worst thing about it.]

[See, Rhys is the hardest. Because as far as Beckett remembers, Rhys just died himself. And Beckett is still very much in the mindset that birthed the Decisions made in the wake of that death.

This is the worst death price ever.]

I... probably owe you an apology. One way or another.

[ Rhys is usually one to go straight to video for reunions. Do not pass go, do not collect $200, snot and puppy dog eyes and etc unto you.

Except. Not this time.

No, Beckett gets text and only text. ]

Just "probably"?

[... ouch.]

I'm not sure, you see. The last I remember you were freshly dead. I don't know exactly how much of an ass I've managed to be in the interim.

[It's a pretty safe bet he's managed some assitude, though.]

An ENTIRE ass. You don't half-ass your assness, you ass.

[ This coolness doesn't reveal that behind the tablet, he is indeed a snotty mess. The relief was crushing. ]

The kind of ass that doesn't bother reaching out even after Angel has hammered home how huge of an ass he is.

Ah, she did mention... [He struggles to reconstruct what his motivation might have been. Lacking the insights gained over those two weeks, though, he mostly comes up with a not unexpected contrariness to this whole awkward business.]

I'm sure there was a reason I'll eventually remember. I must have been doing - something.

Besides avoiding me?

[ Bitter buisness boy, though it starts to fizzle. Half of what he's frustrated about isn't applicable to a Beckett without up-to-date memories, so.

He switches to voice, swallowing a lump in his throat. ]

Sorry I died, I guess.

I was avoiding everyone. [See: being an ass. That is not a good answer, Beckett. He deserve the way he flinches at hearing Rhys's voice.]

Likewise, though I'm sure neither of us could have avoided it. That's rather the point. That it can't be avoided.

[ Said voice is thick and sticky with sick and just-contained tears, despite the constant heavy swallows. ]

And that was it, the straw that broke the vampire's back. We're just too fragile for you to be around, so you quit?

That's not it, Rhys. [The words are snapped, but without heat. He knows he doesn't deserve to get angry.]

It's that I have to do something, do you understand? Something productive. Without limits. Without having anything else in front of me that I care about.

You quit all the same.

[ Everything he can think to say is rehashing Angel's verbal annihilation of the man. Yet it feels almost cruel to redirect him to that, despite its effectiveness and necessity. Or maybe Rhys is just too soft.

Probably just that. The fight isn't in his voice. ]

Is it my fault? Angel was always -- if it would help, i-if it had a shot, I wouldn't have ever said no, you can't do whatever you think needs doing. I won't limit you, ever.

[ Angel analyzes, Enoch philosophizes, Rhys... freaks out. He can't help but feel responsible. ]

Yes... you will.

[Angel can eviscerate him, as she has aptly demonstrated. Enoch he's terrified of for his own reasons. And so it is Rhys who gets the shitty plain tale of it all.]

Not you personally, but all of you. I've fought for you before and I will again. I think about your safety whether you want me to or not. You are as important to me as any of my companions have ever been, and that's limiting.

Then -

[ It's hard, because it's not wrong, it's not something he can argue against directly. Feelings are irrational and stupid and oh so pervasive. ]

You're just -- y-you're gonna have to deal with it, Beckett, because we're not giving up the time we have left with you.

Bloody hell, Rhys - the point is to have more time. That is what we need to think about. What I need to think about. Whatever it has to mean I am not thinking about!

Except it's not a guarantee you'll get that -- far from it! And, yeah, before you say it, any chance is better than no chance at all. So that's why you just have to get over it, b-because --

[ A pause for one of his coughing fits. ]

We need to be together. Take your risks, we'll take them right along with you.

Dude. What the eff

[ oh hey angel is back and yes that's the full message

rhys is welcome ]

[ an hour or two later: ]

DID YOU KILL ME WITH A PILLOW

If you did, that's okay! Accidents happen and I expect you've beaten yourself up enough over it

Uh not that you SHOULD be beating yourself up over it? "Enough" would be like. Zero amount.

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@Mnemonsyne; voice; Day 346

text;

voice;

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text ==> voice;

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day 376; @guardian; text;

2/?

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