(no subject)
It had gotten to the point where Desmond was getting stoned everyday just to keep himself from thinking too much about things he didn't want to think about. He wasn't stoned today, though. Gideon had actually cut him off, saying he needed 'to fucking stop this shit.' Now his head was full of the things he'd been avoiding: Julie, dying, this place, the robbery.. Everything had come back up to the surface after he'd seen that script Gideon had found. That he'd written while in jail, apparently. It had just cemented everything in his brain.
He really had died and Gideon had gone to jail. And Jules.. God, he missed her. Maybe she was better off, though.. He wasn't entirely sure. All he was sure about was that he really wished Gideon hadn't managed to prevent him from smoking. Gideon was right, though. He wasn't that type of person who did stuff like that to get away. Painting was supposed to be his outlet, but he didn't have that here, either.
So, instead of being numbed to the point of not caring, Desmond was sprawled out on a couch in the rec room. Gideon had implicit instructions to stay the fuck away from him because he just wasn't in the mood.
He really had died and Gideon had gone to jail. And Jules.. God, he missed her. Maybe she was better off, though.. He wasn't entirely sure. All he was sure about was that he really wished Gideon hadn't managed to prevent him from smoking. Gideon was right, though. He wasn't that type of person who did stuff like that to get away. Painting was supposed to be his outlet, but he didn't have that here, either.
So, instead of being numbed to the point of not caring, Desmond was sprawled out on a couch in the rec room. Gideon had implicit instructions to stay the fuck away from him because he just wasn't in the mood.