do we ever stop? no.

[storytell]

who: Jonathan & Andrew.
where: Rule 42, Monday afternoon.
what: Possibly a ~tearful reunion~ complete with lesbian hugs, possibly just more melodramatic fighting, who knows. Incomplete.

Comments

[magicboner]

He can't control the flush on his cheeks, or that his hands automatically run through his hair and stay there. "I shouldn't have told her that stuff," Jonathan admits, a little horrified and a little bitter. "It's just- when you don't have anyone to talk to about, um, that kind of stuff. You know? But I shouldn't have." And he regrets it, he does. Secrets are meant to stay secret. There's a reason he never told her about the bell tower. If he can keep his own, then he should be able to keep the ones that belong to the Trio as a whole. But somewhere along the line, there was a logical disconnect, and he's been paying for it. "I just want to be friends with all of you, okay," he mumbles, sliding off the counter and onto the floor, pulling his knees up under him as he settles there.

It's tempting to fall back on his usual placating that he's grown so accustomed to; telling Andrew to not feel guilty would be so easy. But the truth is that Jonathan thinks they've all got a lot to feel guilty about. That everyone is at fault here. So he just smiles vaguely at Andrew and shrugs a little. "The thing is, um. I don't want you guys feeling like I was betraying you, because. Um. That's not what that was, and it won't be."

He cuts off anything Andrew is about to say with a sharper look. "And please don't say that, um, it happened once before. Seriously. I'm trying to learn from mistakes." All of these thoughts have been swirling in his mind for days, and finally letting them up for air is a little confusing. But it feels good to talk to Andrew again, even if it is this heavy crap that he really, really hates. "Look, um, just because I care about other people doesn't mean I don't still care about you guys. Kind of, um, kind of exactly the opposite. Actually." Because as much as he loves the When Harry Met Sally thing he's got going with Cordelia (minus sex and, again, minus inevitably getting together - which he's busy convincing himself he's okay with) it mostly makes him realize that his best friends are his best friends for a reason. Mostly, he just wants to hug Andrew, but things still feel a little foreign, so Jonathan just waits.

[storytell]

Jonathan pre-empts him; Andrew always runs by past experiences, and even if through Mexico he'd come to grips with the fact that siding with Buffy hadn't been betraying him personally, there had still been this lingering thought, that maybe Warren would have lived and all their plans would have succeeded if Jonathan didn't have an endearing yet slightly frustrating weakness for the cute, blonde, completely unavailable superpowered girls. Or girl.

Jonathan learns from his mistakes; Andrew wishes he could say the same. But he knows that even with Angel getting brood all over the place, Cordelia isn't Buffy. It still feels in the pit of his stomach like they're fighting, even if Andrew follows Jonathan to the floor, skidding closer and wrapping his arms around his legs, resting his chin on them and staring at Jonathan with mismatched eyes. "You shouldn't have," Andrew says. "But I don't mind because of you know, me. Well I sort of do." Hearing that Jonathan doesn't want to abandon him is reassuring, and makes all of Andrew's anxieties about their drifting apart seems silly and inexplicable. "But not enough to be mad at you forever."

"Dr. Cox pointed out that you aren't going to spend practically every single waking moment holding my hand in the hospital and then run off with a girl, even if she does do stuff like agree to play D&D with us." Andrew bit his lip. Maybe Dr. Cox hadn't said quite that, but it had been the essential point which had gotten through to Andrew. Besides, forgiving Jonathan was easy once you got used to it. "But I'm sorry that I can't... I mean, if you're going to keep making... people. angry, then it's not really about what I think of you." His pauses were getting longer, and Andrew's face was falling again. "I've just been following his lead on this which maybe isn't one of my more amazing ideas but it means I can keep an eye on him." A sharp exhale. "So please, please don't make me choose. I'm tired of choosing."

[magicboner]

The thing about being friends with Cordelia is that she vocalizes Jonathan's deepest, darkest, most secret (and bitter) inner monologue without having ever heard even a hint of it. She doesn't edit herself when she speaks about his friends, and in a way, Jonathan wishes he could do the same. But those are issues he won't touch with a lightsaber, selfishness and constant disappointment and having expectations that are unrealistically high. It doesn't change that he's tired of being judged against Warren, though. Mostly because Jonathan knows that he will always inevitably lose.

"Dr. Cox said that?" He wasn't aware the angry doctor had ever acknowledged his presence, other than politely informing Andrew that doctor-patient confidentiality does not extend to lookie-loos. "I think I just needed a break," Jonathan admits, frowning as he says it. "Just, you know, someone to bounce everything off of. Because, um, you didn't need it. And Warren - it was just easier to talk to her about everything, okay." He has no idea why he's still trying to explain this, because he shouldn't have to justify why he's friends with anyone. To either party. This is stupid and juvenile and Jonathan hates it, just wants to end it as painlessly as he can, and grimaces a little at the turn of phrase in his head.

Three people can't be friends without some divisions. He's learned that over the years, clear and true. And Jonathan knows that it's hardest for Andrew, that both he and Warren can be a little possessive. Or, more than a little, in some cases. "I didn't mean to make you choose," he says a little desperately. "We've talked about this, you know-" But it's starting to get into the territory that chokes Jonathan on a nightly basis, so he just clamps his mouth shut and switches gears. "You're tired of choosing and I'm tired of making people angry and I just want us to be happy and together in this," he lets out all in one breath and stares at Andrew, defeated.

[storytell]

"I do too!" Andrew agrees instantly, because that's really all he ever wanted. Sometimes he thinks things would have been easier if he'd just wished for one of them back, thinks that he would be happier just supervillaining along with Warren or (blasphemy of all blasphemies) that maybe he and Jonathan would be happier if it was just the two of them. But the thought doesn't stay long, because Andrew wants all three of them to be friends.

Unfortunately, that's harder than it sounds. "It's just, he's angry at you. And if I just act like nothing's wrong, he'll end up pushing me away too." It's hard for Andrew to explain, why he can't let that happen. The normal, sane justification is that if he leaves Warren to his own devices, something bad will happen. So if he has to choose, for the moment he's choosing the guy that doesn't have a Buffy or a Cordelia or a Aya or a Han Qi Luo to fall back on. But he doesn't bother trying to explain all of that, because they both know that isn't the real reason and besides, he feels guilty even thinking it; as though Warren's more obvious insanity is a greater need than the dark, dark depths he knows Jonathan possesses.

"But I like you talking to me about stuff. Even if sometimes I don't get it." Maybe Jonathan hadn't wanted Andrew to be burdened with his problems, but maybe Andrew needs that. To have someone else's woes to sort through late at night, when he can't sleep. "I didn't like you having someone else to confide in," he admits. Because Andrew needs Jonathan, and weeks of bedside sitting were an obvious demonstration that Jonathan needs Andrew. But he still couldn't help feeling a little excluded. "But it's okay!" he adds quickly, not wanting this to be a guilt-trip Jonathan session. "I get that it wasn't like that and I know you didn't mean to. Upset anyone. I know how that goes."

[magicboner]

For a while, all Jonathan can do is stare and nod absently. He hears everything Andrew is saying, processes it and lets it sink in. And he knows that Warren needs the most help at the moment - at every moment, really. He needs help. They're supposed to save him. It's been an unspoken agreement since they got here, but Jonathan feels like they keep backpedaling and trying to tread water and getting absolutely nowhere.

"I'm not even mad at you guys anymore," Jonathan says, his voice flat with exhaustion. "Mostly, um. Mostly just myself. But- I'll work it out with Warren next. I can do it, I promise." It's just that Andrew is easier, and he keeps wishing they could just rewind to New Years' Eve and circumvent all of the hospital stuff and then maybe he wouldn't have needed to cling so hard to Cordelia in the first place. She was the only undamaged thing in his life for a while, and as much as it guilts him, Jonathan can't really fault himself for wanting even just a little sanity in his life.

Still, he also knows that she isn't what this is really about. "You're still my best friend," Jonathan says simply. "I don't want you to think that you're not. Ever. Okay?" After a second's hesitation, he holds out one hand and gives a small smile. A peace offering. It's a strange place to be making up, the store of their shop, but Jonathan couldn't really imagine them ever doing anything normally.

[storytell]

Andrew unwinds himself slowly, still careful of well-healed wounds, and uses Jonathan's hand for nothing more than to pull them together and enfold him in a trademark hug, awkward on the floor but utterly necessary. Jonathan is small, and warm, and Andrew buries his face in the crook of his shoulder and just sits there for a bit, breathing in the forcedly even way that always gives away the fact that he's trying not to cry. "Okay," he says quietly.

It's a while before he pulls back, and even then he keeps touching Jonathan's hand as though he's afraid. But his face is relatively placid, and he turns an earnest gaze on Jonathan. "What are you going to do?" he asks. Jonathan can't just- well, no, Andrew doesn't want him following the same apology paths. But it's going to be harder. "You don't have to tell me," he adds, dropping his eyes. "I mean, it's not really any of my business. But I wouldn't... I mean, I just don't know how you're going to manage to make him believe you."

Andrew bites his well-chewed lower lip. "I believe you, by the way," he mutters. "I'm sorry that I didn't, you know, sooner." That isn't the apology Andrew really wants to give but he isn't sure at all how to just come out and say it; not like this, not when they're so close. Maybe it will never be said. Maybe the way he's stroking Jonathan's fingers says it for him.

[magicboner]

Andrew's a worrier. Jonathan knows that. Half the reason he barely left that hospital room was to silently say to Andrew, you don't have to worry, I'm here. He may not be big or strong or violent or particularly good at problem-solving, but Jonathan will take anything for Andrew. A bullet, getting re-stabbed, an eye, his life, anything. It's the same for Warren, even if he'll never believe it, and that mere fact is what drives Jonathan crazy. He won't let other people get hurt on their quest for redemption (or money; it was the same back at home, too) but he'll take it all.

"No, it's totally your business," Jonathan mumbles, squeezing Andrew's hand. "I don't really know yet? I mean, um. I have an idea. But the thing is, it's going to take a long time. Grand gestures, they don't work." His smile turns a little bitter on that, but Jonathan just keeps pushing forward, tapping his temple with two fingers of his free hand. "I'm getting help so stuff like this doesn't happen. I'm not going to let it. And I'll ask Warren, you know, what it would take." He's a little afraid of the answer to that, but still. To compromise, even just a little, he needs to at least know the rules of Warren's crazy game. "I mean, I can't take any of it back now, but, um. I can stop it from happening again."

The fact that he's still here and still trying should be more than enough, but just as Jonathan knows about Andrew's worrying, he also knows that Warren is never satisfied. And neither of them can stand being ignored or, worse yet, shoved off to the side. There's a lot of things to make right, and he'll take it slow. "At least someone does. It's okay," he says, and he isn't just talking about the apology. The siding with Warren, for Warren's own sake - that's okay too. A lot of things are okay. He turns his anger in on himself, anyway, so even if they weren't okay... well, it all ends up in the same place.

[storytell]

"I'm okay, you're okay," Andrew says unconvincingly. It's pretty far from the truth, but he still feels good right now; he had been worrying about this, and now he feels like a great weight's been lifted from his shoulders. Happy, and tired. Mostly the latter's just residual exhaustion; it takes a lot of effort to keep piecing his life back together like this.

"I'll help," Andrew says, knowing he needs to lay out the boundaries. "I mean, if you want help. But if he does something stupid, like tell me I'm not allowed talk to you..." Actually, Andrew wouldn't take that, and Warren knows it. But it's an extreme idea of what he's trying to vocalize. "It's not about you, okay? I was just upset."

But Jonathan knows all that already, and has apologized about it enough. The truth is, Andrew has missed his friend like crazy. Warren's great, Warren's more than great, but Andrew can't talk about his feelings with him. Not unless there is great and immediate tragedy. "But forget about that," he says, wanting to spend the rest of the afternoon before reality kicks back in talking about interesting things. "Evangelion kids! Was it the best Easter ever? Tell me everything."

[magicboner]

Jonathan kind of just wants to collapse into his best friend and tell him everything and then sleep forever, not have to deal with anyone else. It's tempting, like everything is lately, but Jonathan just settles for running his fingers along the back of Andrew's hand. "I want your help. But Evangelion kids, right," he echoes quickly, shifting a little and smiling despite himself. "Like, it wasn't bad? I'm glad I was invited and, um, I think Rei actually said something directly to me. Which is new."

The smile is genuine now, because if he forgets about all of the constant melodrama that is his life, it was a good way to spend the holiday. "Mostly we just dyed eggs and ate food and talked. I tried not to, like, interview them." Jonathan pauses for a moment, then raises one eyebrow at Andrew. "They said I was old." The comment hadn't really bothered him. In fact, it was kind of funny. He's still mentally nineteen, and only actually a few years over that - but here in Babylon, where you're either an annoying, rebellious teenager or an immortal vampire-thing, that seems to classify as ancient. It's strange.

"It wasn't really the best Easter ever," he says, a little apologetic. "You guys would have made it better. But, um, what did you do? Did a rabbit really come to visit Anya?" Jonathan has to chew on the insides of his cheeks to keep from laughing, because it's not nice to make fun of someone else's phobia. Even when the phobia is of tiny baby bunnies frolicking around in a meadow, and frankly, Jonathan can't think of anything less terrifying.

[storytell]

Andrew slides around so he can lean against the base of the counter next to Jonathan, slide his head down to rest it on his friend's shoulder, never breaking their grip; with the shelves looming over them, they're practically out of sight of the front door, and Andrew considers just flipping the closed sign. But customers are so rare that he decides it's probably better for business just to assume no-one will come in anyway.

His own smile lingers on his lips, even though it hadn't been that funny at the time. "Yeah, we were just doing stocktake and talking and the padlock must have magically unlocked itself or something." Andrew shrugged. "It was a pretty mean joke to play, I mean no-one else seemed to get an Easter bunny, so it was someone who knew about Anya's, you know, weird thing." Andrew really did feel sorry for her; an aversion to rabbits probably sucked in such a pro-bunny society.

"Easter isn't as exciting as Christmas," Andrew adds, because he doesn't really officially do religious holidays, anyway. "So you know, I kind of. Just didn't celebrate." Which had been the point of hanging out with Anya; to forget it was a special occasion at all. Because special occasions should be spent with friends, like Christmas or- or New Years Eve, or your birthday... Andrew clutched Jonathan's hand harder and muffled a sniffle in his t-shirt.

[magicboner]

"It isn't," Jonathan agrees, curling his free arm around Andrew. The move is so familiar and practiced, but he'll never get tired of it, never. And he's kind of glad that they didn't do anything without him, as selfish as that is. Jonathan, on the other hand, had spent the night staring at the walls and wishing he could pull a Chamber of Secrets and erase his memories. Things they've said, completely trivial things, just kept popping into his head - whatever Warren feels, I don't want that to stop you and me being friends again, and it feels like it was ages ago.

"Passover is, like, even less exciting, though." It has nothing to do with anything, but Jonathan picks and chooses his holidays - Hannukah over Christmas, though that may have changed in Babylon, but definitely Easter over Passover. Maybe that makes him a bad... whatever, but it isn't what you practice, it's what you believe. Jonathan just smiles a little to himself at that and runs his fingers through Andrew's hair. That might go doubly for friendship. What's unsaid is a lot more meaningful (and a lot more truthful, and by that token, a lot more destructive) than anything else. "Being real is hard," he says suddenly, just vocalizing more of the things that have been keeping him up at night.

And it is. It really, really is. But it's better than the alternative, most days. "We need each other, all three of us," Jonathan mumbles, casting his eyes around the shop, wondering what would happen if the dome suddenly cracked and all of the radiation came in, would they be safe in here. "We need each other so it maybe isn't as hard," and he knows that Andrew knows this, but it still never hurts to say. He's determined to fix everything for exactly that reason.