nightlogs | Time Throws Us Along [Closed]

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Time Throws Us Along [Closed]

Who: Dan and Elle and Stacia, Dan and Bunny
What: Dan addresses the fallout of his conversation with Miguel.
Where:
When: After Christmas
Warnings/Notes: Cocaine? Cocaine. And all the other Dan warnings.

I. Elle and Stacia

Bunny's gone on a mission for a few weeks, one that Dan can't accompany him on, and the only upside Dan can see to that is that he doesn't immediately have to tell Bunny what's bothering him. Instead, he can use their bathroom counter to do lines of cocaine, which is how he spends the evening, getting coked up and smoking his vape and hitching a ride on the sleigh to Amsterdam to party. He comes back late the next morning wearing someone else's clothes, pockets empty and hair glittered, with a hickey on his neck, and goes straight to sleep, all thoughts of dooming his home universe utterly, temporarily banished.

The downside is, of course, that the comedown from a coke binge lasts for days, and the older he gets the less he feels like he's bouncing back and the more he feels like he's crawling back up from a pit. The exhaustion is the worst of it. Dan's used to feeling full of aches and pains and hangover, but such punishing fatigue sneaks up on him, so a few days after his wild night he's sitting in the communal relaxation area, listening to an audiobook on his iPod, nursing a mug of cocoa with one hand and holding some tissue to a nosebleed with the other, when he just slips off into sleep and doesn't wake until someone nudges him.

II. Bunny

By the time Bunny gets back, Dan's ready to have a proper conversation about all this with him. He was hesitant to bring any of it up, because the emotions around saving Dan's family have always been so heightened. Somehow this happy event has also brought them to the worst arguments of their relationship more than once, has exposed every crack they have, every way they see the world and life and death differently. Dan doesn't want to suggest that they should have done anything differently when the last time he floated that idea, they fought so bitterly and painfully that Dan feels it like a wound that never quite heals.

But after talking to the girls about it and having some time and distance, he's leveled himself out (and sterilized all traces of the cocaine out of their bedroom) and prepared his little mental list of all the things he and Bunny need to catch up on. Not out of apology, but just out of gratefulness that Bunny's back, he's sewn together a new flannel for Bunny, gotten some rosepetals and candles and gussied up the bed. And then he's dressed in his coziest pajamas and settled into bed himself, ready for Bunny to come be cuddled up with and groomed and adored upon his return. He perks up when the door cracks open.

"Hey, honey. Welcome back."

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Dan was expecting, perhaps, some anger directed his way. He feels, at best, unforgivably ignorant, like he allowed his desperation to undo what happened to his family and his technological illiteracy to stop him from asking the necessary questions. And he feels like he's in a middle of a free fall, like he's levitating in limbo without knowing if he actually did cause such a horrific tragedy, but like he'll inevitably, awfully hit the ground.

He was expecting, maybe, understanding and sympathy. But he wan't expecting anger on his behalf, and he sits up and starts to twist pieces of tissue into plugs for his nose now that the worst of the bleeding has settled.

"It's alright, he-" Dan is good at keeping himself even-keeled even when those around him are furious, and that's where he is now. "He didn't do nothing wrong by telling me, most folks would be furious with me and rightly so, I just- I didn't know. I wouldn't never have run that risk if I did knew."

Stacia nods in acknowledgement of Elle's eye-contact, then turns (most) of her attention back to Dan and his situation.

"Hokay," she says, spreading her fingers wide and pressing her palms together to help keep her focused. "I also do not have a background in, like, time travel or reality science or whatever, but I'm pretty sure that traveling backward in time to save your family in particular doesn't do nearly much damage to a universe as was done to the universe the Rig was in. Right? That universe was completely fucked by what they did to it with the go-away bombs, but the cracks were only big enough for a comparative handful of people to show up from other realities."

Stacia's been trying not to drop F-bombs in Santa's workshop, but this is well worth the risk of getting dinged for language on the naughty-nice scale.

"I, personally, think it's pretty fucked up of him to assume that just because shit works one way in his universe-- or multi-verse, or whatever-- that that's how it must work everywhere. I think he has no right to accuse you of causing that kind of harm without knowing more."

Elle's voice is forcibly even but incredibly tense. Her shoulders are trembling.

Your readings are off, Miguel had told her. He said that she should look out for 'glitching', because thats what happens to anomalies.

"It's one thing to investigate if there might be an issue, but to tell you that-" she cuts her self off in disgust.

"...I ain't considered that," he says to Stacia

Dan feels like his thoughts have all been cotton-y ever since he found out, like he can't hear himself think over a roar of anxiety and humiliation and guilt and confusion and shame and grief and- and defensiveness, all in a whirl. He notices Elle trembling. He notices Stacia's hands. He knows right now that the question isn't what they're going to do about this problem but what the problem is, the accusation or its contents.

"I couldn't not try to save them but I wouldn't have never risked that many people." He's sure they understand. He knows they know how bad it was to lose his family, how the trajectory of his life curves around that and how every negative pattern in his brain leads down that gully into that swamp of grief. "But I reckon he could have might suggested getting more information before leaping to the worst."

He's willing to give Miguel plenty of grace. It's in his nature.

Edited 2024-01-27 01:11 (UTC)

"In his defense," Stacia says with a pointed look at Elle, "he did tell me that he was a reality repair person, and I imagine that's a job with some trauma involved."

Much like, oh, anything involving the supernatural.

"But yes, he absolutely should have asked some questions before jumping to the worst." She snaps her fingers. "And, as bonus evidence, a witch had already offered you a time-travel solution! It was already on the table as an option. She wouldn't have offered it if it were going to break your reality, which she also lives in, right?"

Stacia's pointed look gets returned. "That's a reason, not an excuse."

Elle's not about to say she's capable of being objective about this particular subject, but she does try to keep her damage from becoming other peoples' problem, when possible.

"I know someone who has experienced with fucked up timelines and alternate realities. From the little he's told me I don't think total-universe-destruction is assured. I can't say how it works in the world you changed, but if nothing else it shows that Miguel's rules aren't multi-versal."

Isaac is famously reticent, but she's picked things up over the years. She knows that he remembers his life from a reality that no longer exists, and that it's fucked him up more than he'd care to admit.

"You may not be the only one here who's done something to alter their timeline or reality. This may not be an isolated incident-- it could happen again to someone else."

It's her, Elle's the one who's altered her reality, but she's not going to share that with the class. There's still the possibility that other people have as well.

She catches Stacia's eye again, this time to get some reassurance that they're going to figure out a way to handle Miguel. Even if they don't plan it right this second, it needs to happen.

Dan exhales. It feels like unlacing a too-tight sneaker, the way he finally feels like he can fully breathe now that there are theories in front of him that feel factually sensible, not just self-servingly exculpatory.

"He's going to want to lay down a blanket rule against people taking up offers to change their pasts." He exhales again and crumples up his bloody tissue and tucks it into his pocket. "If the stakes could might be that high, I see where he's coming from."

But it's sounding like the stakes aren't that high, or at least, aren't that high certainly. Bless these girls. Bless them that they both got heart and brains.

Dan suddenly laughs quietly to himself. "I always just been some guy. It don't make sense for me to hold world-ending power."

Stacia opens her mouth to argue back with Elle that what she means is that Miguel may have a reason to be stupid and thus might not need to be physically slammed into a few walls, but then snaps it shut and breathes through her nose. Not the point, she and Elle can argue about who's going to handle the Miguel portion of this problem later. Right now, they're dealing with Dan.

"Yeah, well, I want to put all the werewolves back home in a hamster ball and shake them until the stupid falls out," she says. "Miguel can want things all he likes, and he's welcome to politely explain why messing with our own pasts might be a bad idea, but he's not the boss of this gang of misfits. He made an attempt at being mister bossy-pants, and I declared him team secretary instead."

Dan probably saw Miguel's big information-organizing announcement, but she's not sure if he saw the responses. Given Dan's general Dan-ness, it's entirely possible he buried it under a pillow and did something else until everyone else stopped talking. So, you know, just making things clear for him.

The laugh is a relief, and Stacia smiles into it. She also declines to argue with the logic behind it -- again not the point here.

"Yeah, I don't think anyone wants that kind of pressure on them," she says.

Elle takes another deep breath and rubs her hand over her face. Stacia visibly holding her tongue reminds her that she should probably do the same.

"Yeah, no one was taking his attempt seriously. We even got backup from people who had worked with him before on why it might not be a good idea. I think he gets that that's not gonna fly here but it may take him a bit to transition and act accordingly, especially if he's used to being the boss."

She has more to say, but none of it would be productive right now. Dan needs to be able to realize that the situation may not be what he thought, Elle and Stacia need to figure out how to deal with Miguel, and Elle needs to keep her shit together long enough to get through all of this.

She takes another deep breath, trying to release some of the tension she's holding in her body (and burying some of her anger deep in her gut to be dealt with Later), and places her hand back on Dan to continue the soft petting she was doing before.

Dan lets himself be pet and resists the urge to return the gesture, because he worries it might be more uncomfortable for Elle to feel observed in her anger than just politely ignoring how tense she's become.

"He listened to me and accepted that I wouldn't might be cooperating none with his efforts to organize. I told him it was a personal sticking point for me, and honestly, I reckoned he'd push back harder on me, but..." Dan shrugs. He actually addressed this issue directly instead of just dipping and passively objecting. "Maybe y'all prepared him for the potential he'd have a libertarian in his midst when you demoted him to secretary. I don't know. I reckoned we were doing real nice until I mentioned the timeline."

He makes a gesture like something exploding and falling to pieces with one hand.

"I didn't mean to drag y'all into this. It's fine. I'll be fine."

Stacia blinks in momentary surprise, then grins and pats Dan's hand. Look at that, personal growth! Good job, Dan! "Well, it's not like I'm big on taking orders either: I just take advice and sometimes requests from people I've decided are worth listening to."

Then, since she's already touching his hand, she takes it in both of her own. "To be fair, you didn't drag us into this so much as not try to run when we cornered you while you slept. Which, frankly, would have been a perfectly logical choice. So thank you for letting us help."

"No one here has any authority over me and if they try to order me around I will simply bite them."

She's only partially joking, but the lightening mood lets some of the tension bleed from her posture.

"That includes you. You didn't drag us into anything."

Sorry, Dan, the reason they're getting involved isn't because of any pressure or obligation-- they just care about you.

"I can give information. I can share and cooperate. I just can't fall in line." He gives Stacia's hand a squeeze. He's glad they understand, glad that not only do they understand but that they also feel the same way. None of them feel the capacity to bending the knee to authority; it's not even that they don't want to, but that all three of them feel compelled against just rolling over, like it's something in their constitution.

"And I know better than to run from y'all. You're both faster than me." He laughs, then yawns and sits up, gathering the tissues and his other accoutrements. "Mind accompanying me back to my room and dropping me off? I'm still so tired I might fall asleep in the hallway if I go it alone."

Stacia giggles because while fleeing would have been an understandable impulse, it certainly wouldn't have been successful overall. Even if they didn't immediately give chase as though he were a squirrel, they would have hunted him down in other ways. But they didn't have to, because Dan politely acquiesced!

"Yeah, sure," she says, standing up herself. "The bed's going to be a comfier place to recover than a chair. You set for snacks and water and stuff?"

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Time Throws Us Along [Closed]

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