Elias, Bahir
The Haven at Westchester is one of the better facilities around for diagnosing not only psychological issues but medical reasons behind the symptoms. Guests are checked in with quite a bit less astringency of demeanor, but a good deal of the usual thoroughness. Any drugs, OTC and otherwise, as well as weapons are politely required to be left at the door. The facility is pretty nice, with well lit corridors and generous single rooms. Elias is stationed in one such room, playing around on his lap top as he kills time, dressed in light weight cotton sweat pants and a t-shirt, barefoot and sitting on his bed.
Telepathy tightly shielded, Bahir hesitates outside with a sidelong glance at Natalie. Nervous about daring crazy land, he gestures: after you. He is dressed in a shirt with some clever design or another over darkly washed jeans, and the laces of his sneakers trail in floppy bows. "--wonder if there are topics we aren't supposed to discuss. Are there pamphlets?"
Natalie is quite uncomfortable enough herself, if for somewhat different reasons. Her expression is dim and quietly serious, and she's already wrapped her arms around herself as they enter. "I don't know that I have the energy to be crazy PC," she mutters quietly in return.
"I nobly refrained from a tasteless joke. You owe me." In they go, with Bahir's hand at the small of Natalie's back, urging her forward. He trails after, onward and in for visitation. Knock knock?
"I owe you nothing," Natalie points out with a dark mutter, but she stays close to Bahir's side for all that and moves forward at his urging.
Elias doesn't move an inch, glancing up at the door silently, waiting. When no one barges in with very little concern for modesty, he draws in a deep breath, looks confused and gets up. He pads across the floor and pulls the door open. Eyes search Bahir's and Natalie's faces blankly for a second before the realization sinks in. He smells freshly showered, though his face is sporting more facial hair than normal. Isn't it great that he can grow such a lovely beard in a week? "Oh. Hey guys. Um, come in?" He pulls the door open further to find a small room with a bed, a couch and a door that leads to a bathroom. One wall is covered in a dresser/closet item, in a light bleached wood. It's cozy, but nice enough.
"Wow. Going for the lumberjack look?" asks Bahir bluntly, eying Elias' facial hair with extreme skepticism as he slides in (after Natalie, mind).
Oh no, not after Natalie. Natalie sidesteps and wiggles her way /behind/ Bahir as soon as they arrive at Elias' room, although she remains close. Close enough to throw a chiding punch at Bahir's shoulder for his comment.
Elias' brows quirk as he takes a step back to allow the scuffling, shuffling pair admittance, sighing as he heads back to the bed. They can shut the door if they want to. "Well, that's a thought. This is really just lazy."
"We could bring flannel next time. Red plaid," promises Bahir, rising on his toes as he shifts away from Natalie's jab.
"Should we have brought flowers?" Natalie recognizes suddenly, dismayed as she looks at the back of Bahir's head.
"Um, no. No flowers are fine. I'm just glad you came." There's a second of hesitation before Eli's face grows warmer and he smiles welcomingly. "Trip from the city was okay?"
Turning his head to give Natalie a very blank look, Bahir mouths, 'Flowers?' at her before he looks over at Elias again. Expression somewhat reserved, he snorts, and skips past the other small talk to ask, "So?"
'/What/?' Natalie mouths back, defensive, before she finally steps sideways around Bahir so that she's, y'know, actually visible. "It was okay," she says, providing small talk where Bahir will not.
"They've got me on anti-anxieties right now, so there are more peaceful moments - but I'm still being irrational from time to time. There's been a little too many questions about hearing voices for my comfort." Elias draws himself further onto the bed and gestures toward the couch for his visitors.
<< So are you hearing voices? >> Bahir's sense of humor is inappropriate.
"/Are/ you?" Natalie wonders with sudden worry, minus Bahir's sense of humor. Or his telepathy.
Eli shoots Bahir a scowl as he shakes his head for Natalie. "No. I mean. Fuck, the ideas come out of no where, but hell - there's no one talking to me. I don't see people that aren't there - but then again, you can never trust my judgment on it." There's a pause as he looks over at an empty corner in the room thoughtfully.
Bahir's lips curl in response to Elias's scowl, and he tips his head in a not-very-sincere expression of apology that blanks as Elias eyes the empty corner. He glances in Natalie's direction, Concerned.
Natalie watches Elias watch the chair, and then blinks back over to Bahir, her expression helpless and confused.
Elias' gaze sweeps back to his visitors and a wry smile pulls at his lips. "Sorry. Crazy person humor. No. As far as I know, I haven't manufactured anything but ... whatever the other stuff is." He draws in a deep breath and gazes down at his hands. "There's a cafeteria, if you want to grab coffee or something."
"Ah. Yeah. Coffee. Sounds good." Bahir should stop there, but he continues on to ask, "They let you have coffee? It's not too dangerous?" His tone is mild, and if any humor is there (and it probably is), it is a little dry and assholish. See also: hearing voices.
"I like coffee," Natalie replies with a clear degree of Lame before she looks over to Bahir again. There is an unconscious sway toward the comfort of the Not!Crazy Person before she clears her throat slightly and looks toward the door.
"They let me have decaf." TORTUROUS! Oh the pains of being in a mental institution. Eli rises from the bed, his gaze on Natalie as he moves, feet touching down silently and moving to toe into his sandals. He gestures to the door, keeping his distance.
Bumping shoulders with Natalie in wordless reassurance on their way out, Bahir steps to the far side of the hall outside to wave Elias forward. "After you. Not a bad place. There are apartments in the city smaller than your room."
There is a clear release of tension at the physical reassurance of even a bump, and Natalie shuffles sideways, lingering back behind Bahir as he leaves room for Elias to lead the way. "Yeah, no kidding," she murmurs with a brief glance around.
"The finest stay my insurance company can be pumped for - you know, with me and my family paying the balance." Eli walks stiffly down the hall, thumbs hooked in the waistband of his pants. He shuffles as he winds through the corridors and leads the way to a large, hospital style cafeteria, moving toward the opening of the line. "You guys buying?" It's rather quiet, but there's a decent flow of guests and staff through the area.
"Yeah." Fingers slipping into the back pocket of his jeans, Bahir extracts his wallet with a skeptical glance at cafeteria food. "So if you are still irrational, are they not discharging you? Or can you discharge yourself, or what?"
"Oh!" Natalie says, as if startled into recall. "How are you-- um. I mean." She flusters, stumbles, and then finally rushes, "Are you okay with the money because I can float you a free loan if you need so just ask or let me know it's not a problem."
Elias gets in line in earnest this time, grabbing a muffin to go with his coffee. Since that's at the end of the line, he just meanders slowly through the line and waits his turn. "Nah - I, um, I'm not thinking about it. That - you know - not stressing out thing. Anything not paid up front will be billed later. We can talk when I get out." He shakes his head slowly, the motion a little disjointed on stiff shoulders. "And .. um, when - I don't know. Supposed to be able to function normally and creatively. My goal. Now - still blocked and still crazy. Haven't hit anyone else. Sorry about that." He turns to Natalie next. "Sorry - about yelling. Wrote you a note. Not sure if you saw it. Didn't say anything but that I'm sorry. I think."
"Does being crazy make you speak in sentence fragments?" Bahir is COMPLETELY the insensitive friend, contemplating the muffins with a dubious expression before skipping them for coffee alone. "Don't worry about it. You hit like a girl."
Natalie falls silent as Elias speaks, trailing behing the pair of them. It's the best position to shoot a glare at Bahir for his comment, and to frown slowly at Elias'. Her reply is simple: "No," and then, "Don't worry about it."
"Fucking asshole." There's equal parts release and heat in the exclamation, spoken above a whisper, but not loud enough to attract attention. Elias looks around though, concerned and embarrassed when he notices one of the kitchen staff restocking bananas - glaring at him. "Good fuck. If you don't want to be around crazy people, get a new job." He lashes out quietly and moves on, head down as he heads for the coffee pots and pours himself a cup of decaf.
Bahir sniggers inappropriately and gives Nataliea mild look in response to her glare. He composes himself with somewhat obnoxious care, nerves expressed in most juvenile fashion. "How's the coffee?" he asks. "You seem better than you were, I guess."
Natalie remains quiet and intensely uninteresting, /more/ than happy to let Bahir carry the effort of conversation.
"What? Because you're not insulting me every chance you get to see how far I'll go?" Elias drops into a dreary mood as he moves away from the coffee pot and toward the cash register. "It's better than you'd think, but still wouldn't pay more than a buck a cup." And no refills. :(
"I could, if you like. Call it therapy. Charge you." Sliding over to pay for his no-refills coffee, Bahir wrinkles his nose at what he /is/ charged, and glowers at the cashier. This fails to lower the price, so he moves off to add sugar.
And oh! Coffee! Lo, the joy, the caffiene! The cup to hold in her hands and sip at so that it is entirely not obvious that Natalie remains silent. She's simply /busy/. Drinking. Sip.
"Maybe you're just lucky I didn't punch you harder that night." Elias treks after Bahir and grabs the half and half. A glance is spared for Natalie. :(
"Maybe you wish that you were able to punch harder." Bahir spares no glances for Natalie. He simply finds a place to sit, and settles in. "Anything we can do for you? Bring you plaid flannel?"
"I'm not buying anyone plaid flannel," Natalie chimes in briefly, despite her lack of glances from Bahir, and slides into place next to him.
"Maybe if I hit you right now instead of when I'm enraged - and we see how much better I can fight?" Eli gives Bahir a glower as he lowers himself into a chair across the table from his guests. "Fuck. I don't know. New brain?"
"Don't have any spare unless you want monkey." Bahir blows across the surface of his coffee, but hesitates before sipping it. "How about flannel?"
"Let's avoid hitting each other, please," Natalie requests quietly.
"I'd ask for a razor, but that'd be putting me on restrictions I don't want to think about." Eli cradles his mug close, never really setting it down. Eyes dart toward Natalie, but the look is brief, his head bowing afterward. "Maybe flannel. Is the facial hair that odd?"
"Yes. I'm /really/ not sure the crazy lumberjack look suits you." Bahir makes no further comments of violence, what with already carrying a barely visible hint of yellow-and-green around his eye. It is hard to see. That is why we haven't referenced it before. Not at all forgetful.
Natalie falls to silence again, and her opinion on lumberjacks goes unknown. Her opinion on coffee, however, is apparently that it is very, very good. She sips, she watches Bahir, she sips. Also I just typed that 'ships', so I wonder who she's shipping.
Who IS she shipping?
Wouldn't YOU like to know?
In fact, yes. I just asked.
Too bad!
Well, we ALL would.
Bitch.
Natalie ships like a mystery in the night.
Elias misses Bahir's eye bruise completely. His own fault for not showing it off SOONER - when it was FRESH. He takes a drink of his coffee and puts the mug down, frowning. Yep. Decaf sucks. "If I shave, will you visit more often?"
A cannon will fix th-- Oh, we are posing again. "They make creams. We can bring those hair removing creams and flannel and then you will smell like flowers and -- well, not look like a lumberjack, so maybe we can forget the flannel," says Bahir after a moment. "If it isn't too disruptive or whatever, I'll come when I can." (Not like his presence isn't likely to inspire rage setbacks or anything.)
Natalie, perhaps notably (or perhaps not!), makes no such promise. Instead she simply says, "I have some Nair."
"With you?" Elias shifts his glance between the pair and frowns. "Um. Wow. You guys are so very accommodating."
Bahir spreads his hands in a shrugging gesture. That is him. Accommodating.
Natalie, too. Accomodating. Silent. Same difference!
"I have a razor in my bathroom. They walk in every hour or so - so I guess they're pretty sure I won't cut into an artery between check ins with a disposable one." Elias picks up his cup and turns it before taking a sip. "I can go shave now, if it will clear the air."
Bahir waves his hand in accommodating fashion. "Whatever. Little surprised they let you have a razor. How long does it take to bleed out?"
Natalie frowns, the expression very faint as it draws tiny creases at the corners of her eyes and the downturn of her lips, and breathes out, her eyes fixed on Elias.
"Fuck if I know. I'm not suicidal." Elias confirms this to Bahir then meets Natalie's gaze. "I'm not suicidal, Natalie. I promise." The longer he holds her attention, the deeper the lines around his eyes and on his brow get.
Sipping his coffee, Bahir looks between Elias and Natalie in brief silence.
Natalie startles instantly and blinks at Elias. Her frown deepens and her brow furrows. "I didn't think you were!" she objects.
"Just - what? A danger to everyone I know?" Elias' gaze shifts then, looking over at Bahir, brow arching. "Except you, because I hit like a girl." Challenge? Admission of weakness? It's impossible to say.
"Right. Because I hit like a man." A very bland sort of challenge in his returning tease, Bahir returns the arch of Elias' brow with that of his own. "Thumb outside," he says, and forms a fist demonstratively.
Natalie's expression goes abruptly and painfully even, save for the slight clench of her jaw, and she lowers her head to sip without reply.
"Look. I appreciate you coming out, but fuck. I - hell. Being stared at ain't helping." Elias fidgets in his seat and takes a sip. "I'm not saying go. I just - sorry. Fuck." His voice is quiet and echoy against the surface of his coffee.
"I could stare at my coffee instead," suggests Bahir in mild fashion, and then adds another offer. << As long as we are here, I can do what I can to keep you on keel, if you want. >>
Natalie looks first guilty and then angry, and her gaze snaps over to Bahir. Her lips press into a thin line and her coffee cup, in her hand, quivers a little with indecision. The tension in her muscles is clearly screaming 'go!'.
<< I can't seem to do anything right. >> Frustration taints Eli's melancholy thoughts, his breath released slowly through his nose. He glares at the table and takes a few breaths before looking over at Bahir again. << What if I'm like this for the rest of my life? >> He looks over at Natalie and moistens his lips. "Thank you for seeing me." He draws in a deep breath. "I don't deserve it after what I said."
<< I'm sure they'll find the right treatment eventually, >> Bahir says in lukewarm encouragement to Elias. Following the turn of his gaze to Natalie, he cocks an eyebrow at her with his hand dropping beneath the table to stretch in her direction so that she can take it, if need be. He arches his eyebrows. The 'You okay?' and 'Go now?' of body language and expression are less clear than telepathy.
"It's fine," Natalie dismisses, brief words to express a not-entirely-truthful sentiment, but Natalie does find something that is almost a smile (or maybe a grimace?) to accompany it. Her fingers find Bahir's under the table after a moment, and some small amount of tension drains from her posture at the touch of him. There is no reply to the arch of eyebrows, and Natalie lifts her cup for another sip to save herself the need to make one.
Mounting tension builds up in Eli's mind as he does his best to remain neutral. His eyes flash angrily as they settle on Bahir before dulling over into something exhausted. << It's not fine. It's never fine. She keeps all this locked up until - fuck. I don't know. I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore. I want her to - I don't know how to - Why is this happening? I - I >> Eli's thoughts run into a brick wall - well, one that's a little more fuzzy and medicated, where the angry emotions don't go away, but get lost in a bog of chemicals and distraction. << Sorry. >> "Oh.. Okay. Good."
<< Fuck. >> Vague sympathy tinged by an undeniable unease and horror at the rough tumble and clatter of Elias's thoughts, Bahir shifts in his seat as he glances over at him. He gives Natalie's fingers a brief squeeze beneath the table. << Do you want me to do anything or not? >> he adds to Elias, awful quiet in spoken words over the recent stretch.
Natalie, not privy to telepathic conversation, gives Bahir a faintly grateful glance and then simply nods to Elias and finds herself -- surprisingly! -- speechless.
<< Do something. Won't really help though. Might help. Hell. I don't know what to say to her. >> Eli draws in a deep breath and nods again, his eyes lowered to the table. "If it is schizophrenia - maybe it's good we caught it before the voices." There. Something to talk about.
Bahir gives a short, sharp burst of distinctly uncomfortable laughter at that, snorting into his coffee. "Oooh, fuck," he says as he recovers, shaking his head and setting the cup down again. Telepathy wraps around Elias's mind in broad constriction, widely limiting the swings of mood and pushing him toward a narrower, more rational form of expression. << Don't worry, neither do I, sometimes, >> he assures. "What else do they think it could be?"
Natalie jerks her head up and over to Elias, and her expression darkens with instant worry. "They think it's /schizophrenia/?" she asks, her words running over Bahir's.
Elias looks a little confused, gaze shifting between the two as he draws in a deep breath. His brain handles it a little better this time around, the sarcastic spike getting muffled before retreating. "Well, they tested me for syphilis - and that other one. Oh, and meth addiction."
"Glad it wasn't syphilis. Who knows how many people you could've spread it to with all your impulsive kissing," says Bahir, lacking any sort of muffling on /his/ sarcasm, or any care for the actual methods via which the disease is spread.
"...shit," Natalie breathes quietly, with a low glance at Bahir before his reply earns a faint frown.
"I - I, um, started anti-psychotics this afternoon. They say it takes ten to fourteen days before they're effective. If those don't help - I don't know what comes next. We haven't discussed it." Elias picks up his cup and swallows down the rest of his coffee before turning to his muffin. Nope. Didn't forget about that at all. "What is the other one? I think Gonorrhea is treatable, right? That isn't the other one that messes with your head?"
Bahir shrugs, glancing over at Natalie with a twitched grimace that isn't quite apology. "No idea. Not an expert in STDs. I hope it helps, though. Can you phone people? Email? Whatever? Even if we can't always get out here, you can always get in touch with us if they let you."
Natalie retrieves her hand under the table, pressing it flat against her knee as she watches Elias in continued silence with wide brown eyes, made even rounded by her glasses.
"Yeah, I can do all those things. Just been hesitant to. You know. Not being so good with face to face conversation these days." Eli draws in a deep breath and relaxes back in his chair. "I have to say, your visits are amazing though. Supportive. This place gets under my skin sometimes - no matter how nice it is. They've got a pool - and tennis courts." Eli gives Natalie a soft smile and nods - at nothing, really.
"Oh, good. No idea what kind of limits they have you on. Can we head out? Go for a walk? Do they have, I don't know, a 'therapeutic garden' or anything?" Draining the last of his coffee, Bahir sets the empty cup to the side. "I mean, if they have a pool and tennis courts...!"
"A therapeutic garden," Natalie drawls, bafflement and disdain (sorry!) mixing together. "Well. I mean. Therapeutic is-- uh. Positive."
"Yeah. We can go walk in the grounds." Eli pushes his mug away as well and gets to his feet. "Thanks for the coffee." He pushes his chair in and looks around the room to orient himself. "I think it is this way."
Crazy people make Natalie nervous.
Telepathy tightly shielded, Bahir hesitates outside with a sidelong glance at Natalie. Nervous about daring crazy land, he gestures: after you. He is dressed in a shirt with some clever design or another over darkly washed jeans, and the laces of his sneakers trail in floppy bows. "--wonder if there are topics we aren't supposed to discuss. Are there pamphlets?"
Natalie is quite uncomfortable enough herself, if for somewhat different reasons. Her expression is dim and quietly serious, and she's already wrapped her arms around herself as they enter. "I don't know that I have the energy to be crazy PC," she mutters quietly in return.
"I nobly refrained from a tasteless joke. You owe me." In they go, with Bahir's hand at the small of Natalie's back, urging her forward. He trails after, onward and in for visitation. Knock knock?
"I owe you nothing," Natalie points out with a dark mutter, but she stays close to Bahir's side for all that and moves forward at his urging.
Elias doesn't move an inch, glancing up at the door silently, waiting. When no one barges in with very little concern for modesty, he draws in a deep breath, looks confused and gets up. He pads across the floor and pulls the door open. Eyes search Bahir's and Natalie's faces blankly for a second before the realization sinks in. He smells freshly showered, though his face is sporting more facial hair than normal. Isn't it great that he can grow such a lovely beard in a week? "Oh. Hey guys. Um, come in?" He pulls the door open further to find a small room with a bed, a couch and a door that leads to a bathroom. One wall is covered in a dresser/closet item, in a light bleached wood. It's cozy, but nice enough.
"Wow. Going for the lumberjack look?" asks Bahir bluntly, eying Elias' facial hair with extreme skepticism as he slides in (after Natalie, mind).
Oh no, not after Natalie. Natalie sidesteps and wiggles her way /behind/ Bahir as soon as they arrive at Elias' room, although she remains close. Close enough to throw a chiding punch at Bahir's shoulder for his comment.
Elias' brows quirk as he takes a step back to allow the scuffling, shuffling pair admittance, sighing as he heads back to the bed. They can shut the door if they want to. "Well, that's a thought. This is really just lazy."
"We could bring flannel next time. Red plaid," promises Bahir, rising on his toes as he shifts away from Natalie's jab.
"Should we have brought flowers?" Natalie recognizes suddenly, dismayed as she looks at the back of Bahir's head.
"Um, no. No flowers are fine. I'm just glad you came." There's a second of hesitation before Eli's face grows warmer and he smiles welcomingly. "Trip from the city was okay?"
Turning his head to give Natalie a very blank look, Bahir mouths, 'Flowers?' at her before he looks over at Elias again. Expression somewhat reserved, he snorts, and skips past the other small talk to ask, "So?"
'/What/?' Natalie mouths back, defensive, before she finally steps sideways around Bahir so that she's, y'know, actually visible. "It was okay," she says, providing small talk where Bahir will not.
"They've got me on anti-anxieties right now, so there are more peaceful moments - but I'm still being irrational from time to time. There's been a little too many questions about hearing voices for my comfort." Elias draws himself further onto the bed and gestures toward the couch for his visitors.
<< So are you hearing voices? >> Bahir's sense of humor is inappropriate.
"/Are/ you?" Natalie wonders with sudden worry, minus Bahir's sense of humor. Or his telepathy.
Eli shoots Bahir a scowl as he shakes his head for Natalie. "No. I mean. Fuck, the ideas come out of no where, but hell - there's no one talking to me. I don't see people that aren't there - but then again, you can never trust my judgment on it." There's a pause as he looks over at an empty corner in the room thoughtfully.
Bahir's lips curl in response to Elias's scowl, and he tips his head in a not-very-sincere expression of apology that blanks as Elias eyes the empty corner. He glances in Natalie's direction, Concerned.
Natalie watches Elias watch the chair, and then blinks back over to Bahir, her expression helpless and confused.
Elias' gaze sweeps back to his visitors and a wry smile pulls at his lips. "Sorry. Crazy person humor. No. As far as I know, I haven't manufactured anything but ... whatever the other stuff is." He draws in a deep breath and gazes down at his hands. "There's a cafeteria, if you want to grab coffee or something."
"Ah. Yeah. Coffee. Sounds good." Bahir should stop there, but he continues on to ask, "They let you have coffee? It's not too dangerous?" His tone is mild, and if any humor is there (and it probably is), it is a little dry and assholish. See also: hearing voices.
"I like coffee," Natalie replies with a clear degree of Lame before she looks over to Bahir again. There is an unconscious sway toward the comfort of the Not!Crazy Person before she clears her throat slightly and looks toward the door.
"They let me have decaf." TORTUROUS! Oh the pains of being in a mental institution. Eli rises from the bed, his gaze on Natalie as he moves, feet touching down silently and moving to toe into his sandals. He gestures to the door, keeping his distance.
Bumping shoulders with Natalie in wordless reassurance on their way out, Bahir steps to the far side of the hall outside to wave Elias forward. "After you. Not a bad place. There are apartments in the city smaller than your room."
There is a clear release of tension at the physical reassurance of even a bump, and Natalie shuffles sideways, lingering back behind Bahir as he leaves room for Elias to lead the way. "Yeah, no kidding," she murmurs with a brief glance around.
"The finest stay my insurance company can be pumped for - you know, with me and my family paying the balance." Eli walks stiffly down the hall, thumbs hooked in the waistband of his pants. He shuffles as he winds through the corridors and leads the way to a large, hospital style cafeteria, moving toward the opening of the line. "You guys buying?" It's rather quiet, but there's a decent flow of guests and staff through the area.
"Yeah." Fingers slipping into the back pocket of his jeans, Bahir extracts his wallet with a skeptical glance at cafeteria food. "So if you are still irrational, are they not discharging you? Or can you discharge yourself, or what?"
"Oh!" Natalie says, as if startled into recall. "How are you-- um. I mean." She flusters, stumbles, and then finally rushes, "Are you okay with the money because I can float you a free loan if you need so just ask or let me know it's not a problem."
Elias gets in line in earnest this time, grabbing a muffin to go with his coffee. Since that's at the end of the line, he just meanders slowly through the line and waits his turn. "Nah - I, um, I'm not thinking about it. That - you know - not stressing out thing. Anything not paid up front will be billed later. We can talk when I get out." He shakes his head slowly, the motion a little disjointed on stiff shoulders. "And .. um, when - I don't know. Supposed to be able to function normally and creatively. My goal. Now - still blocked and still crazy. Haven't hit anyone else. Sorry about that." He turns to Natalie next. "Sorry - about yelling. Wrote you a note. Not sure if you saw it. Didn't say anything but that I'm sorry. I think."
"Does being crazy make you speak in sentence fragments?" Bahir is COMPLETELY the insensitive friend, contemplating the muffins with a dubious expression before skipping them for coffee alone. "Don't worry about it. You hit like a girl."
Natalie falls silent as Elias speaks, trailing behing the pair of them. It's the best position to shoot a glare at Bahir for his comment, and to frown slowly at Elias'. Her reply is simple: "No," and then, "Don't worry about it."
"Fucking asshole." There's equal parts release and heat in the exclamation, spoken above a whisper, but not loud enough to attract attention. Elias looks around though, concerned and embarrassed when he notices one of the kitchen staff restocking bananas - glaring at him. "Good fuck. If you don't want to be around crazy people, get a new job." He lashes out quietly and moves on, head down as he heads for the coffee pots and pours himself a cup of decaf.
Bahir sniggers inappropriately and gives Nataliea mild look in response to her glare. He composes himself with somewhat obnoxious care, nerves expressed in most juvenile fashion. "How's the coffee?" he asks. "You seem better than you were, I guess."
Natalie remains quiet and intensely uninteresting, /more/ than happy to let Bahir carry the effort of conversation.
"What? Because you're not insulting me every chance you get to see how far I'll go?" Elias drops into a dreary mood as he moves away from the coffee pot and toward the cash register. "It's better than you'd think, but still wouldn't pay more than a buck a cup." And no refills. :(
"I could, if you like. Call it therapy. Charge you." Sliding over to pay for his no-refills coffee, Bahir wrinkles his nose at what he /is/ charged, and glowers at the cashier. This fails to lower the price, so he moves off to add sugar.
And oh! Coffee! Lo, the joy, the caffiene! The cup to hold in her hands and sip at so that it is entirely not obvious that Natalie remains silent. She's simply /busy/. Drinking. Sip.
"Maybe you're just lucky I didn't punch you harder that night." Elias treks after Bahir and grabs the half and half. A glance is spared for Natalie. :(
"Maybe you wish that you were able to punch harder." Bahir spares no glances for Natalie. He simply finds a place to sit, and settles in. "Anything we can do for you? Bring you plaid flannel?"
"I'm not buying anyone plaid flannel," Natalie chimes in briefly, despite her lack of glances from Bahir, and slides into place next to him.
"Maybe if I hit you right now instead of when I'm enraged - and we see how much better I can fight?" Eli gives Bahir a glower as he lowers himself into a chair across the table from his guests. "Fuck. I don't know. New brain?"
"Don't have any spare unless you want monkey." Bahir blows across the surface of his coffee, but hesitates before sipping it. "How about flannel?"
"Let's avoid hitting each other, please," Natalie requests quietly.
"I'd ask for a razor, but that'd be putting me on restrictions I don't want to think about." Eli cradles his mug close, never really setting it down. Eyes dart toward Natalie, but the look is brief, his head bowing afterward. "Maybe flannel. Is the facial hair that odd?"
"Yes. I'm /really/ not sure the crazy lumberjack look suits you." Bahir makes no further comments of violence, what with already carrying a barely visible hint of yellow-and-green around his eye. It is hard to see. That is why we haven't referenced it before. Not at all forgetful.
Natalie falls to silence again, and her opinion on lumberjacks goes unknown. Her opinion on coffee, however, is apparently that it is very, very good. She sips, she watches Bahir, she sips. Also I just typed that 'ships', so I wonder who she's shipping.
Who IS she shipping?
Wouldn't YOU like to know?
In fact, yes. I just asked.
Too bad!
Well, we ALL would.
Bitch.
Natalie ships like a mystery in the night.
Elias misses Bahir's eye bruise completely. His own fault for not showing it off SOONER - when it was FRESH. He takes a drink of his coffee and puts the mug down, frowning. Yep. Decaf sucks. "If I shave, will you visit more often?"
A cannon will fix th-- Oh, we are posing again. "They make creams. We can bring those hair removing creams and flannel and then you will smell like flowers and -- well, not look like a lumberjack, so maybe we can forget the flannel," says Bahir after a moment. "If it isn't too disruptive or whatever, I'll come when I can." (Not like his presence isn't likely to inspire rage setbacks or anything.)
Natalie, perhaps notably (or perhaps not!), makes no such promise. Instead she simply says, "I have some Nair."
"With you?" Elias shifts his glance between the pair and frowns. "Um. Wow. You guys are so very accommodating."
Bahir spreads his hands in a shrugging gesture. That is him. Accommodating.
Natalie, too. Accomodating. Silent. Same difference!
"I have a razor in my bathroom. They walk in every hour or so - so I guess they're pretty sure I won't cut into an artery between check ins with a disposable one." Elias picks up his cup and turns it before taking a sip. "I can go shave now, if it will clear the air."
Bahir waves his hand in accommodating fashion. "Whatever. Little surprised they let you have a razor. How long does it take to bleed out?"
Natalie frowns, the expression very faint as it draws tiny creases at the corners of her eyes and the downturn of her lips, and breathes out, her eyes fixed on Elias.
"Fuck if I know. I'm not suicidal." Elias confirms this to Bahir then meets Natalie's gaze. "I'm not suicidal, Natalie. I promise." The longer he holds her attention, the deeper the lines around his eyes and on his brow get.
Sipping his coffee, Bahir looks between Elias and Natalie in brief silence.
Natalie startles instantly and blinks at Elias. Her frown deepens and her brow furrows. "I didn't think you were!" she objects.
"Just - what? A danger to everyone I know?" Elias' gaze shifts then, looking over at Bahir, brow arching. "Except you, because I hit like a girl." Challenge? Admission of weakness? It's impossible to say.
"Right. Because I hit like a man." A very bland sort of challenge in his returning tease, Bahir returns the arch of Elias' brow with that of his own. "Thumb outside," he says, and forms a fist demonstratively.
Natalie's expression goes abruptly and painfully even, save for the slight clench of her jaw, and she lowers her head to sip without reply.
"Look. I appreciate you coming out, but fuck. I - hell. Being stared at ain't helping." Elias fidgets in his seat and takes a sip. "I'm not saying go. I just - sorry. Fuck." His voice is quiet and echoy against the surface of his coffee.
"I could stare at my coffee instead," suggests Bahir in mild fashion, and then adds another offer. << As long as we are here, I can do what I can to keep you on keel, if you want. >>
Natalie looks first guilty and then angry, and her gaze snaps over to Bahir. Her lips press into a thin line and her coffee cup, in her hand, quivers a little with indecision. The tension in her muscles is clearly screaming 'go!'.
<< I can't seem to do anything right. >> Frustration taints Eli's melancholy thoughts, his breath released slowly through his nose. He glares at the table and takes a few breaths before looking over at Bahir again. << What if I'm like this for the rest of my life? >> He looks over at Natalie and moistens his lips. "Thank you for seeing me." He draws in a deep breath. "I don't deserve it after what I said."
<< I'm sure they'll find the right treatment eventually, >> Bahir says in lukewarm encouragement to Elias. Following the turn of his gaze to Natalie, he cocks an eyebrow at her with his hand dropping beneath the table to stretch in her direction so that she can take it, if need be. He arches his eyebrows. The 'You okay?' and 'Go now?' of body language and expression are less clear than telepathy.
"It's fine," Natalie dismisses, brief words to express a not-entirely-truthful sentiment, but Natalie does find something that is almost a smile (or maybe a grimace?) to accompany it. Her fingers find Bahir's under the table after a moment, and some small amount of tension drains from her posture at the touch of him. There is no reply to the arch of eyebrows, and Natalie lifts her cup for another sip to save herself the need to make one.
Mounting tension builds up in Eli's mind as he does his best to remain neutral. His eyes flash angrily as they settle on Bahir before dulling over into something exhausted. << It's not fine. It's never fine. She keeps all this locked up until - fuck. I don't know. I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore. I want her to - I don't know how to - Why is this happening? I - I >> Eli's thoughts run into a brick wall - well, one that's a little more fuzzy and medicated, where the angry emotions don't go away, but get lost in a bog of chemicals and distraction. << Sorry. >> "Oh.. Okay. Good."
<< Fuck. >> Vague sympathy tinged by an undeniable unease and horror at the rough tumble and clatter of Elias's thoughts, Bahir shifts in his seat as he glances over at him. He gives Natalie's fingers a brief squeeze beneath the table. << Do you want me to do anything or not? >> he adds to Elias, awful quiet in spoken words over the recent stretch.
Natalie, not privy to telepathic conversation, gives Bahir a faintly grateful glance and then simply nods to Elias and finds herself -- surprisingly! -- speechless.
<< Do something. Won't really help though. Might help. Hell. I don't know what to say to her. >> Eli draws in a deep breath and nods again, his eyes lowered to the table. "If it is schizophrenia - maybe it's good we caught it before the voices." There. Something to talk about.
Bahir gives a short, sharp burst of distinctly uncomfortable laughter at that, snorting into his coffee. "Oooh, fuck," he says as he recovers, shaking his head and setting the cup down again. Telepathy wraps around Elias's mind in broad constriction, widely limiting the swings of mood and pushing him toward a narrower, more rational form of expression. << Don't worry, neither do I, sometimes, >> he assures. "What else do they think it could be?"
Natalie jerks her head up and over to Elias, and her expression darkens with instant worry. "They think it's /schizophrenia/?" she asks, her words running over Bahir's.
Elias looks a little confused, gaze shifting between the two as he draws in a deep breath. His brain handles it a little better this time around, the sarcastic spike getting muffled before retreating. "Well, they tested me for syphilis - and that other one. Oh, and meth addiction."
"Glad it wasn't syphilis. Who knows how many people you could've spread it to with all your impulsive kissing," says Bahir, lacking any sort of muffling on /his/ sarcasm, or any care for the actual methods via which the disease is spread.
"...shit," Natalie breathes quietly, with a low glance at Bahir before his reply earns a faint frown.
"I - I, um, started anti-psychotics this afternoon. They say it takes ten to fourteen days before they're effective. If those don't help - I don't know what comes next. We haven't discussed it." Elias picks up his cup and swallows down the rest of his coffee before turning to his muffin. Nope. Didn't forget about that at all. "What is the other one? I think Gonorrhea is treatable, right? That isn't the other one that messes with your head?"
Bahir shrugs, glancing over at Natalie with a twitched grimace that isn't quite apology. "No idea. Not an expert in STDs. I hope it helps, though. Can you phone people? Email? Whatever? Even if we can't always get out here, you can always get in touch with us if they let you."
Natalie retrieves her hand under the table, pressing it flat against her knee as she watches Elias in continued silence with wide brown eyes, made even rounded by her glasses.
"Yeah, I can do all those things. Just been hesitant to. You know. Not being so good with face to face conversation these days." Eli draws in a deep breath and relaxes back in his chair. "I have to say, your visits are amazing though. Supportive. This place gets under my skin sometimes - no matter how nice it is. They've got a pool - and tennis courts." Eli gives Natalie a soft smile and nods - at nothing, really.
"Oh, good. No idea what kind of limits they have you on. Can we head out? Go for a walk? Do they have, I don't know, a 'therapeutic garden' or anything?" Draining the last of his coffee, Bahir sets the empty cup to the side. "I mean, if they have a pool and tennis courts...!"
"A therapeutic garden," Natalie drawls, bafflement and disdain (sorry!) mixing together. "Well. I mean. Therapeutic is-- uh. Positive."
"Yeah. We can go walk in the grounds." Eli pushes his mug away as well and gets to his feet. "Thanks for the coffee." He pushes his chair in and looks around the room to orient himself. "I think it is this way."
Crazy people make Natalie nervous.