I'm sick of sounds like I'm sick of silence/Oh, sick of the darkness til I'm sick of the light
Characters: Rick bloody_pens with a cameo appearance by Genius man_genius
Date/Time: BACKDATED to February 22nd, after the events of this log
Location: The Man-twin House, Section 4
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The state of Rick's mind after his recent losses and Genius' encounter with Ben's Other. Any of Genius' actions are modded with permission.
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Rick hadn't thought anything of it when Genius was out for a while, figuring he'd taken a late shift at the clinic or was actually being social for once and visiting his star-friend.
So when Stoneface had come knocking on his door, right behind his obviously scared and bedraggled brother, telling him hurriedly that something had gone on but he didn't have all the details yet, with a quick promise to find out what HAD happened... well, he felt as though his whole world had been uprooted AGAIN.
Dealing with Promise had been bad enough. He had spent a lot of time hurting in private, because showing when he was hurt and vulnerable and wanting to curl up in a ball and shut out the world in public was not him. His method of dealing with pain was to compartmentalize it, make a stupid joke or two, pretend that it wasn't getting to him as badly as it really was, and only really acknowledge it when nobody was watching. He still missed his daughter, still felt guilt and anger at himself for not recognizing her during her first stay in the Sphere, felt like he was a bad father because it was his duty to protect her and he hadn't been able to stop her from disappearing anyway. The fact that he couldn't do anything about the Sphere's whims didn't do much to diminish his feelings.
Then, just as he was finally starting to move past that pain, in one fell swoop, Nova had vanished, he and Nikki had had to admit to each other that they WEREN'T a couple after all, and then SHE had disappeared. He had both Nikki's and his daughter's journals courtesy of Simon; Rick appreciated the gesture and felt like the other man had it worse than him, having to take on the burden of being the bearer of bad news over and over and over again.
All of that had led to him fearing that Genius was going to be next, that one day he'd go to wake his brother up in the morning to find an empty, unmade bed, to hear a knock on the door and see Simon once again stoically handing the non-functioning journal over, expressing his condolences...
He couldn't decide if that would have been better or worse than seeing him so deeply and obviously traumatized by whatever had taken place. Genius couldn't verbalize it yet, and Stoneface hadn't had a lot of details, but something had gone on. And Rick had no idea whatsoever how to help him.
So he did what he could... sat by his bedside with Tribble, watching him and feeling utterly helpless in the face of it all, and when his brother had been able to doze off, left little Tribble with him, gotten up and reached for a bottle.
He knew that it was stupid to get drunk out of his head every time something bad happened- at this rate, he'd be constantly under, and didn't want to develop a dependency on washing his problems away that way.
So after he was suitably sloshed, he poured the rest of the vodka down the drain, then in a sudden rush of pure, helpless, drunken anger at the damned tree for doing this to him and the people he loved, threw it against the wall, leaving the shattered pieces to clean up in the morning when his head would hopefully be clearer.
Collapsing onto his bed after not bothering to undress beyond kicking his shoes off, Rick closed his eyes and spent the rest of the night alternating between sleeping and staring around him in a haze of half-formed thoughts and ideas.
The mysteries, the how and why of the Sphere, were things that never concerned him much, even when Genius began poking his nose into them. He could do that, Rick thought, just go ahead and do whatever he wanted, and he'd support his brother as best he could, like he always supported him, always believed in him no matter what, but he'd keep his distance and live his life and do the job he loved and hang out with his friends and not care to look into who had brought them here and taken their memories.
However, now it was looking more and more like something he couldn't afford to ignore. One by one, all of his loved ones were being taken from him- or, in Genius' case- harmed. Was this what he got for his attitude? Was this his reward for turning a blind eye to everything? Was this the price to pay for ignorance, for treating life as one big joke?
He didn't know, and couldn't decide.
Not now.
Not when all the pain he tried so hard to drink away and tuck away into neat little boxes was leaking out and assaulting his mind and his heart.
When the sun began to peek into his bedroom, Rick finally gave up on the idea of sleep and got up, scratching his stomach and padding blearily out into the living area. The kitchen on one side, the door to his brother's room on the other, and in the middle the space where they'd so often hung out together, the couch where they had spent many a night starting out watching a movie or playing a game and ending up falling asleep leaned against each other, a half-eaten bowl of snacks in between them.
He would give anything to be able to live in simple bliss like that all the time, with his daughter here, and Nikki (no matter what they were to each other), and everyone else he cared about, never having to worry and live in fear again.
Coughing and licking his dry lips, Rick went to get a glass of water, sidestepping the remains of the vodka bottle. He was slightly better than last night, but still unsure of what to do or how to feel.
Rick then peeked in Genius' room, seeing his scared and disheveled brother curled up beneath the covers, the tiny ball of fuzz that was Tribble asleep next to him, occasionally making tiny growling noises, as though trying to fight off the nightmares and bad things coming to get his friend.
"... damnit," he murmured to himself, shutting the door and going to clean up the broken glass on the floor. When that was done, he almost automatically began to go through the motions of making bacon and fried potatoes for breakfast.
Even if he didn't know what had happened, even if he couldn't do much to help Genius' mental state right now, even if he WAS helpless to stop these things happening... he could still live in the now somewhat, and do a simple thing like make breakfast. He could definitely do that.
Date/Time: BACKDATED to February 22nd, after the events of this log
Location: The Man-twin House, Section 4
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The state of Rick's mind after his recent losses and Genius' encounter with Ben's Other. Any of Genius' actions are modded with permission.
------
Rick hadn't thought anything of it when Genius was out for a while, figuring he'd taken a late shift at the clinic or was actually being social for once and visiting his star-friend.
So when Stoneface had come knocking on his door, right behind his obviously scared and bedraggled brother, telling him hurriedly that something had gone on but he didn't have all the details yet, with a quick promise to find out what HAD happened... well, he felt as though his whole world had been uprooted AGAIN.
Dealing with Promise had been bad enough. He had spent a lot of time hurting in private, because showing when he was hurt and vulnerable and wanting to curl up in a ball and shut out the world in public was not him. His method of dealing with pain was to compartmentalize it, make a stupid joke or two, pretend that it wasn't getting to him as badly as it really was, and only really acknowledge it when nobody was watching. He still missed his daughter, still felt guilt and anger at himself for not recognizing her during her first stay in the Sphere, felt like he was a bad father because it was his duty to protect her and he hadn't been able to stop her from disappearing anyway. The fact that he couldn't do anything about the Sphere's whims didn't do much to diminish his feelings.
Then, just as he was finally starting to move past that pain, in one fell swoop, Nova had vanished, he and Nikki had had to admit to each other that they WEREN'T a couple after all, and then SHE had disappeared. He had both Nikki's and his daughter's journals courtesy of Simon; Rick appreciated the gesture and felt like the other man had it worse than him, having to take on the burden of being the bearer of bad news over and over and over again.
All of that had led to him fearing that Genius was going to be next, that one day he'd go to wake his brother up in the morning to find an empty, unmade bed, to hear a knock on the door and see Simon once again stoically handing the non-functioning journal over, expressing his condolences...
He couldn't decide if that would have been better or worse than seeing him so deeply and obviously traumatized by whatever had taken place. Genius couldn't verbalize it yet, and Stoneface hadn't had a lot of details, but something had gone on. And Rick had no idea whatsoever how to help him.
So he did what he could... sat by his bedside with Tribble, watching him and feeling utterly helpless in the face of it all, and when his brother had been able to doze off, left little Tribble with him, gotten up and reached for a bottle.
He knew that it was stupid to get drunk out of his head every time something bad happened- at this rate, he'd be constantly under, and didn't want to develop a dependency on washing his problems away that way.
So after he was suitably sloshed, he poured the rest of the vodka down the drain, then in a sudden rush of pure, helpless, drunken anger at the damned tree for doing this to him and the people he loved, threw it against the wall, leaving the shattered pieces to clean up in the morning when his head would hopefully be clearer.
Collapsing onto his bed after not bothering to undress beyond kicking his shoes off, Rick closed his eyes and spent the rest of the night alternating between sleeping and staring around him in a haze of half-formed thoughts and ideas.
The mysteries, the how and why of the Sphere, were things that never concerned him much, even when Genius began poking his nose into them. He could do that, Rick thought, just go ahead and do whatever he wanted, and he'd support his brother as best he could, like he always supported him, always believed in him no matter what, but he'd keep his distance and live his life and do the job he loved and hang out with his friends and not care to look into who had brought them here and taken their memories.
However, now it was looking more and more like something he couldn't afford to ignore. One by one, all of his loved ones were being taken from him- or, in Genius' case- harmed. Was this what he got for his attitude? Was this his reward for turning a blind eye to everything? Was this the price to pay for ignorance, for treating life as one big joke?
He didn't know, and couldn't decide.
Not now.
Not when all the pain he tried so hard to drink away and tuck away into neat little boxes was leaking out and assaulting his mind and his heart.
When the sun began to peek into his bedroom, Rick finally gave up on the idea of sleep and got up, scratching his stomach and padding blearily out into the living area. The kitchen on one side, the door to his brother's room on the other, and in the middle the space where they'd so often hung out together, the couch where they had spent many a night starting out watching a movie or playing a game and ending up falling asleep leaned against each other, a half-eaten bowl of snacks in between them.
He would give anything to be able to live in simple bliss like that all the time, with his daughter here, and Nikki (no matter what they were to each other), and everyone else he cared about, never having to worry and live in fear again.
Coughing and licking his dry lips, Rick went to get a glass of water, sidestepping the remains of the vodka bottle. He was slightly better than last night, but still unsure of what to do or how to feel.
Rick then peeked in Genius' room, seeing his scared and disheveled brother curled up beneath the covers, the tiny ball of fuzz that was Tribble asleep next to him, occasionally making tiny growling noises, as though trying to fight off the nightmares and bad things coming to get his friend.
"... damnit," he murmured to himself, shutting the door and going to clean up the broken glass on the floor. When that was done, he almost automatically began to go through the motions of making bacon and fried potatoes for breakfast.
Even if he didn't know what had happened, even if he couldn't do much to help Genius' mental state right now, even if he WAS helpless to stop these things happening... he could still live in the now somewhat, and do a simple thing like make breakfast. He could definitely do that.