[open, narrative]

[in_verbatim]

What the people in the Nexus did was ruin him. It's as simple as that.

Last year it was only mental. He'd wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, his body shaking, thinking about Crane and fire and bugs, and he blamed this place. He slept with the lights on. He was miserable, but he was okay, he was still kicking, and that was what

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[jmlevitt]

The knock on the door is really only a formality at this point. Jeff knows Soze is home, Soze knows Jeff is here. But there's importance in manners and ritual, and Jeff follows this one to the letter.

"I got your message," he says to the closed door. Another formality. Why else would he be here, after all?

He doesn't bother to hide how tired he is. That little formality wouldn't fool Soze anyway.

[in_verbatim]

The door opens quickly enough. He knows Jeff isn't here to hurt him. It's a part of his condition that he actually appreciates. Some things are nice to know.

"Great," he says, flat. His movements are a bit quicker than usual, his voice slightly more hurried. "Just come in."

The apartment, like the one he had rented while borrowing Jeff's body, is incredibly sparse. There isn't any furniture save for the chairs (and the bed in the other room), though this one at least has a refrigerator. There's a healthy stack of newspapers in the far left corner. He left his coffee cup by the leg of one of his chairs. That's about it.

[jmlevitt]

He's already taken the seat opposite Soze's before he even notices the coffee cup. He doesn't comment on Soze's hurried behavior, and simply leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers together. "So what can I do for you?" he asks, his tone just as flat, watching Soze with bloodshot eyes.

[in_verbatim]

He moves towards his own chair, but he doesn't sit down. Instead, he walks behind it, running his hand over the edge of the seat as he goes. He stops when he reaches the rung at the end. He doesn't look at Jeff. He purses his lips.

"Who was I fucking?"

...why no, this isn't usually how he starts his conversations.

[jmlevitt]

Jeff blinks. Well. That was unexpected.

"...what?"

[in_verbatim]

He feels Jeff's surprise in the back of his throat, and it catches him off guard for the quickest moment. He pauses.

"I had this real interesting dream the other night." He leans forward now, putting his weight on the back of the chair. He meets Jeff's eyes. "It wasn't mine."

[jmlevitt]

Jeff inhales sharply, his eyes going slightly wide. "That is interesting," he says, feigning calm now. Beneath the placid surface, emotions flicker, mixing chaotically. A bit of anger, a dash of fear, a flicker of curiosity, a lot of caution all fight to be first in line.

He pulls a cigarette from his jacket pocket and lights up, mulling this information over as he exhales smoke between them. "Because the thing is...I did too."

[in_verbatim]

Now it's Soze's turn to falter. Funny. He feels pretty much like Jeff does, and it has little to do with their emotional connection. His stomach turns.

The fucker. In my head.

"And?"

[jmlevitt]

Jeff exhales again, slowly and deliberately. He considers playing coy for a moment. After all, Soze had a hell of a beginning, didn't he. But he's too tired for games.

"It started in the Sanctuary," he begins. "I couldn't feel my hands for some reason." He continues, reciting what he remembers. Blindness followed by sensory overload. Escaping to the Yard. Losing the AV field. The dark and the fire and the shadows. And dying. Can't forget that.

There's a long pause when he finishes, and he stares as his cigarette slowly burns itself out. "There's something else, too," he says slowly, his gut churning with unease. "I remember that now. What Jon did to you. I remember it."

Leave me alone stay in your own head you bastard I don't want this I never wanted this just leave me alone...

[in_verbatim]

You spend four days being tortured. Your mind is picked to pieces and rearranged a hundred-thousand times or more. You lose yourself. You are brought down to your knees, the weakest you have ever felt in your entire life, and then some guy-- no, not just some guy-- but your enemy claims to know everything, claims to remember it like it was his own...

And then he takes your nightmares. He owns your nightmares.

He straightens up, lets go of the chair, and pulls out a cigarette from his jacket pocket. He doesn't look up at Jeff.

"Must be great for you," he murmurs into his cigarette. He lights it and then pulls it away, breathing smoke behind it. He's not entirely sure if he's trying to be sarcastic or not. "At least."

[jmlevitt]

"Great?" He will not raise his voice. He will not raise his voice. "You think that's fucking great? There are pieces of someone else in my fucking head, Keyser. Do you think I fucking want this?"

[in_verbatim]

It adds up. Seven days out of the clinics. Arguments in the sanctuary. He's sick of taking insults and standing back and not doing anything. He's sick of being chained up like an animal, and he's especially sick of pretending to be calm about it.

"No, I don't think you fucking want this." Yeah, he's raising his voice first. It's a sudden, sharp contrast to his calm before, and he grips the back of his chair until his knuckles turn white. "We're both fucked, okay? We're both equally fucked. Are you happy? Does that answer fucking satisfy you? You don't even know what you're taking away from me."

Here he is, losing his cool. When does this ever happen?

[jmlevitt]

"And just what am I taking from you?" It's out before Jeff can even try to be calm now. He'd love to deny Soze the satisfaction of seeing him lose his temper, but it's far too late for that. "Your identity? You're questioning everything you do now, right? You're questioning everything you fucking think because you're not sure who it's coming from anymore, right? You've got shit in your head that wasn't there before and you never wanted, right? Christ, you said it yourself. We're both fucked. Have you forgotten your own name yet? That's a fucking experience, let me tell you.

"Or y'know what, maybe it's not about that. Maybe about your new inability to shoot people in the fucking head. Is that it? It that why you're trying the fucking martyr act on me? Did it not fucking occur to you that that thing is keeping us both alive?

"Think about it. Do you think my sorry ass would even matter to anyone if they thought you were capable of repeating your little stunt from last year? Fuck, no." His voice is bitter

[in_verbatim]

"They're going to fucking kill me anyway, Jeff. This whole anti-violence thing? I don't know what you're thinking, but this isn't saving me from shit. It's only going to make it easier for them to do me in once they separate me from you. And hell, maybe they'll even do it before. I don't know."

He remembers his cigarette, finally, and takes a quick drag, looking away from Jeff.

"I just want to get out of this fucking place," he breathes.

[jmlevitt]

"I don't have to save you from shit!" Jeff is shouting now, his face turning red with anger. "Fine. You want to know why I let Kaa do that? Because for once, I could fucking do something to keep people from getting hurt, and that's something you will never fucking understand, because you are completely fucking incapable of seeing anything outside your own fucking comfort or your own fucking survival, and God help anyone in your way.

"What do you suggest I do instead? Trust you? Believe that you'll be a good boy and only shoot people who attack you first? Bullshit. Trusting you got me stabbed in the back twice. Do you expect me to feel sympathy for you? How many people have you killed that couldn't defend themselves? One of them's standing right in front of you, you son of a bitch.He stops himself there, reaching in for another cigarette. His hands shake as he lights it. "'Quæ enim seminaverit homo, hæc et metet,'" he says quietly, more calm now. Soze may find himself not needing a translation. "'For whatsoever a man soweth, that

[in_verbatim]

He flings the chair he's been holding across the room, bam, and it skids across the
hardwood floor before coming to a stop.

Jeff's anger. His anger.

The words he didn't need translated.

"Just shut up!" he barks. "Just shut up and get the fuck out of here!"