(no subject)
You know when they've disappeared.
I'd never bought into that sentiment, never quite allowed myself to believe it. Denial leaps to mind first, but I think it went deeper than that, into a disbelief that was part of my makeup. I'd never been a people person; I didn't have normal relationships, if I had them at all. When Robin had gone, I'd looked at that expression of sorrowful resignation on Ishiah's face and refused to believe that the two of them could be so cosmically connected that Ish would actually know in some kind of deep down, new age, Psychic Friends Network kind of way that searching was futile.
My brother had disappeared four days ago, and I hadn't even bothered looking for him. Forgetting that worrying about Nik wasn't something strictly necessary, I just knew. I had that sense of something missing, being off; like when you remove a piece of jewelry you've worn for years. Like part of me wasn't quite right, was lacking.
This wasn't like when Robin went. This was a whole other ballpark.
Because I'm a masochist, I was actually happy for him in a sad, relieved way. Disappearing wasn't death. I didn't know much about it, but I felt pretty secure in that. The way I saw it, one of two things had happened to Niko: He'd ended up back home with some other me, and life continued as normal, or he'd moved on to someplace without me.
Without the burden of me, I should say.
My brother had been watching my ass and sacrificing for me nearly his entire life. Nobody asked him if he wanted to play both parents to a sarcastic, moody half-monster: I got dropped in his lap. Literally. His childhood had been virtually non-existent because he'd been making sure I had something close to one. More than once I'd told him he'd be better off without me, and I stood by that even though his predictable reaction meant I'd stopped mentioning it after awhile.
So I was glad for Nik, if he'd really gone on to bigger, better, non-Caliban-related things. He deserved that. It wasn't even a grudging gladness; I genuinely hoped that was what had happened. But knowing that my brother might be better off didn't do much in the way of helping me figure out what the fuck I was supposed to do once he'd gone.
For awhile I'd just fucking stayed in bed, and I have to be honest, I'd wanted to stay there longer than I did. Every hour I stayed under the blankets, though, my Niko-shaped conscience gave me more shit for being so lazy. As cliche as it sounds, I knew he wouldn't have wanted me hiding in my bed, and eventually it was that knowledge that propelled me from it.
That didn't mean I had to be happy about being up and out, however. I ran. I trained. By the end of that first day I was drenched in sweat and felt like I'd run ten marathons. Some people would probably say I was trying to run from my grief, but that's bullshit. I just didn't know what else to do. Mopping my face with the shirt I'd pulled off an hour before, I plodded scowling in the direction of the Hub.
[OOC: Find him on the boardwalk or already seated at the Hub's bar. Open to new threads through Monday. Not as bad a time to meet him as it might seem.]
I'd never bought into that sentiment, never quite allowed myself to believe it. Denial leaps to mind first, but I think it went deeper than that, into a disbelief that was part of my makeup. I'd never been a people person; I didn't have normal relationships, if I had them at all. When Robin had gone, I'd looked at that expression of sorrowful resignation on Ishiah's face and refused to believe that the two of them could be so cosmically connected that Ish would actually know in some kind of deep down, new age, Psychic Friends Network kind of way that searching was futile.
My brother had disappeared four days ago, and I hadn't even bothered looking for him. Forgetting that worrying about Nik wasn't something strictly necessary, I just knew. I had that sense of something missing, being off; like when you remove a piece of jewelry you've worn for years. Like part of me wasn't quite right, was lacking.
This wasn't like when Robin went. This was a whole other ballpark.
Because I'm a masochist, I was actually happy for him in a sad, relieved way. Disappearing wasn't death. I didn't know much about it, but I felt pretty secure in that. The way I saw it, one of two things had happened to Niko: He'd ended up back home with some other me, and life continued as normal, or he'd moved on to someplace without me.
Without the burden of me, I should say.
My brother had been watching my ass and sacrificing for me nearly his entire life. Nobody asked him if he wanted to play both parents to a sarcastic, moody half-monster: I got dropped in his lap. Literally. His childhood had been virtually non-existent because he'd been making sure I had something close to one. More than once I'd told him he'd be better off without me, and I stood by that even though his predictable reaction meant I'd stopped mentioning it after awhile.
So I was glad for Nik, if he'd really gone on to bigger, better, non-Caliban-related things. He deserved that. It wasn't even a grudging gladness; I genuinely hoped that was what had happened. But knowing that my brother might be better off didn't do much in the way of helping me figure out what the fuck I was supposed to do once he'd gone.
For awhile I'd just fucking stayed in bed, and I have to be honest, I'd wanted to stay there longer than I did. Every hour I stayed under the blankets, though, my Niko-shaped conscience gave me more shit for being so lazy. As cliche as it sounds, I knew he wouldn't have wanted me hiding in my bed, and eventually it was that knowledge that propelled me from it.
That didn't mean I had to be happy about being up and out, however. I ran. I trained. By the end of that first day I was drenched in sweat and felt like I'd run ten marathons. Some people would probably say I was trying to run from my grief, but that's bullshit. I just didn't know what else to do. Mopping my face with the shirt I'd pulled off an hour before, I plodded scowling in the direction of the Hub.
[OOC: Find him on the boardwalk or already seated at the Hub's bar. Open to new threads through Monday. Not as bad a time to meet him as it might seem.]