The Eighth Dream - action
[Vivi has simply not been able to cope with her dear mother being sent home. It's just too much. First, she died, and now she's simply gone... a small girl can only cope with so much. The "v-girl" has taken over quite a few times, when the pain becomes unbearable... and tonight is one of those times
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The first thing Vivi may notice is that it's a comparitively more difficult dream to enter than the usual ones, because Robert's physics are interfering with her powers to an extent as dictated by mun headcanon. She should be able to observe without problems, but interacting is going to be harder than it usually is.
The second thing is that the dream is incredibly detailed. It would practically be a lucid dream, except Robert isn't very capable of those. But the sheer volume of memories he has means his dreams are sharp and clear. Which is a bad thing tonight, because he's been dwelling on many unpleasant things lately.
Robert is sitting alone in a very sterile-looking laboratory, full of thousands of pieces of elaborate machinery and equipment. It's an almost perfect replica of the room that he spent much of the time he would do lab work alone in... But this dream doesn't feature any lab work. Instead, there are needles scattered about on the table, and several unmarked vials full of a substance that's difficult to identify.
A few of the needles look like they've just been used.
Robert himself is staring down at his knees with an almost blank expression. His eyes seem unfocused, but almost manic. He's staring at the nanocomputer in his lap, which is projecting what is very clearly Donatello - except he has massive but almost unidentifiable injuries.
Vivi may be able to hear Robert sobbing, and if she's looking at his frail body outside of the dream, he is shaking a little bit.
Clearly the words he's been hearing throughout the past week, and him constantly dwelling on certain aspects of his life that he's afraid to tell Don about, has been affecting him more than he'd care to admit aloud...
Feel like watching your foster father's sanity unravel in his subconscious processes, Vivi?]
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[Still, moving is possible, so she's investigating the scene. First, the needles. She doesn't know what's in them, and she doesn't really want to know... but it must be something bad, in some way.]
[There's so much to address here, so many unpleasant things that may be touched upon or need touching upon. Even though she's in pain, Vivi can tell that this poor man has it far worse than she does. So, she'll let the dreamer lead, by floating over in front of him and gently touching him on the knee.]
Mister Hastings...
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Robert is so out of it - within his dream, at least - that it takes him several moments to even acknowledge the touch on his knee. When he looks up, his normally-calm gray eyes are manic.
The closeness may reveal fresh-looking puncture marks on part of Robert's left arm, where his familiar lab coat's sleeve has been pulled up in the same way he pulled it up for Helios when he slashed his arm for the experiment.
He trains that gaze on Vivi for a few moments before murmuring softly to her, almost as if he has some fuzzy awareness somewhere that Vivi is actually seeing the dream and not part of it.]
I'm going to lose him one day. I'm going to lose him and there's nothing I can do to stop it.
And it'll be my fault.
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[So, very gently, she'll hold out a hand. She's here for you, Robert.] Tell me what's wrong, mister Hastings. Tell me why you think that.
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He stares at that hand before cautiously - jerkily even, missing her hand the first time - taking it. It's obvious he's not quite sober, and so his dialogue is broken, wandering...]
Everything's wrong, wrong wrong... I'm wrong here. Violence is wrong, but it's here so who's right? Am I wrong about that, too?
I'm so afraid. [And he sobs again, eyes flickering down to rest on the computer. Some figure - with features that are inscrutable and difficult to make out, deliberately anonymous but hominid - is beating Don, leaving bruised stripes on that green skin. The video feed is ominously silent... There isn't even a hum of static.]
I'm useless. I'm weak. I can't understand him sometimes. I can't understand anyone sometimes. One day I'll ruin it, I'll ruin this; it's too beautiful, everything beautiful always dies, always breaks; no good at this, I always get it wrong when it's this; failure, I'm a failure.
I'm a failure.
I'm a failure.
[It's some sort of sick mantra.
The hand that isn't clutching Vivi's - an almost death grip, sweaty with what seems like terror that manifests only in the tremble of Robert's shoulders - is grabbing uselessly at nothing. At the air. At the video feed of Don being beaten to death. At the needles. At something, anything...] I broke it last time too, I'll break it this time, no good, I'm no good for him... No good for you...
I'm a failure.
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[Vivi's image fuzzes for a few moments before reverting to her normal form. For some reason, it seems more natural in this dream. Let's try to get him to grab her other hand.]
Mister Hastings... you need to calm down, okay? I wanna try something, but I need to you work with me on it.
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He clings to her hand like it's a lifeline, shaking slightly.]
C-Can't... can't, I'll lose him, I need to think but I can't - I can't trust myself to think anymore, no good, I don't understand feelings, don't understand my feelings... l-love him, I love him but I'm scared, what does love even mean; there isn't a formula for it is there? [He's nearly babbling incomprehensibly now, but at least he isn't panicking as much. Holding Vivi's hands is slowly working to ground him, in the same way it does when he clutches his own hands during an anxiety attack.
Eventually his breathing slows and his pupils dilate a little more, his face still pale and lined with anxiety but beginning to calm.]
...
M-Miss... Aislinn... [Softly:] How can I fix myself? Am I doing everything wrong? I don't know what I'm doing...
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[She shifts her gaze to one of the used syringes.] See that needle? You used it to take some drugs, right? We gotta clear your head... so try to un-take them. Try putting the needle into one of those marks and then pulling on the part you usually push. [In other words, the plunger.] It should get the drugs out of you safely.
[Even though changing anything in this dream is difficult, Vivi's going to focus as much as she can so that this illogical act will happen safely. If it doesn't work, he's going to flip out even more...]
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It makes a hideous sort of sense. He didn't know Vivi before Luceti, and she mentioned her dream powers. Suddenly a kind of lucidity strikes him; an awareness of his actions motivates him to - still shakily - pick up one of the used needles on the table.
He doesn't question Vivi's instructions. It's a dream. He knows she knows this better than him even in the haze of half-sanity he has as a result of the in-dream drug effects, and even if she was wrong... it's a dream. He knows it's a dream, now.
He slides the thin tip of the needle back into the puncture wound without even wincing, like he's done it a million times before. And, shakily, he pulls back on the plunger.
It's illogical, irrational, but he can feel the grip of the drugs on his consciousness slowly subsiding even as that clear liquid congeals in the body of the syringe. Eventually, he stops and puts the needle down, staring at his arm.]
...
... Well.
Thank you.
[Robert is now horribly aware that Vivi can see this dream, can see his subconscious thoughts, and... probably realized that he has a history of this.
How is he going to explain this, now that he's lucid and sober and sane?]
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Mister Hastings... people sometimes do bad things. But, those bad things make us who we are. Even if you took a lot of drugs... things are different now, right?
[She'll get closer, drawing him into a gentle embrace.] Even if I know more stuff about you, even the bad stuff... it doesn't change you. You're still mister Hastings... you're still "dad."
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... It was... eight years ago. That... that was when I stopped. [His hands curl gently together as his gray eyes fixate on the floor.] But when I'm... very frightened, or feel alone, sometimes I... almost want to go back.
Almost.
... [He clears his throat a little, eyes slightly teary - though with a sad smile this time.]
... I'm glad you still... s-see me in a positive light, Vivi. You... you're very important to me. [He responds to that embrace, pulling Vivi close to his thin chest, and smiling tearfully into her hair.]
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Listen, if you get scared or lonely... Everyone needs some help, whether it's from a person or from something else. I can be there for you.
Maybe you can stop wanting this - [she gestures at the now-filled syringe] - and start replacing it with this. [She pulls away, only slightly, but enough to show him what's in her palm. It's a small, pink-and-white capsule, labeled "V1-V1".]
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Y-You've... done a splendid job of being there for me. Even... even outside of this dream.
... A-and that capsule would be...? [He takes the capsule almost delicately, inspecting it. V1-V1.
Vivi.]
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[Vivi is for external use only. :|b ...Although, if dream-Robert wants to take that capsule, he might just find himself feeling better. Until he wakes up, anyway.]
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[He embraces her this time with a fierceness borne of real love for this little girl who has accepted him so unconditionally. Being a father... is it really like this?
Can he really be a good dad, even like this?]
... Should I take this capsule, Vivi...? [He calls her "Vivi" in his dreams. That layer of formality is stripped away here, in a place where there are fewer hang-ups...
Maybe one day he'll call her Vivi when he sees her face-to-face.]
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Go ahead, dad.
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