etrayalogs | December Library Catch-All [ OPEN ]

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December Library Catch-All [ OPEN ]

WHO: John, Harold, and anyone who might find themselves at the Library
WHEN: December
WHERE: The Library!
WHAT: The Library is here and open to all! Come borrow books, find a comfy chair to relax in, or snoop around.
NOTES\WARNINGS: Will be added as they come up

The Library is a five-story neoclassical building of terra cotta, brick, and stone. And the inside is, in fact, a library! And rather clean and organized too. There's no dust, no muddy footprints (apart from your own), and all the shelves are organized by Dewey Decimal, subject, and author. All literature is something you might find in a 2010 New York City library: various forms of fiction, children's and teens' sections, history, science, cooking, gardening, the list goes on. There's even small sections of audiobooks on compact disks and of DVDs ranging from old classics to history shows. The first floor has a reading/study room, a comfortable space with deep armchairs and tables with chairs; the fifth floor has some smaller tables clustered under a skylight. Part of the second floor is abruptly closed off by a door with a biometric scanner that denies entry to anyone who isn't John Reese or Harold Finch; the walls surrounding this section are soundproofed, so even a keen listener won't hear anything from inside. Otherwise, it's a perfectly normal library!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ For once, Riz is deep in a dreamless sleep. He's always been prone to nightmares, even when he was a child, well before anything actually bad had ever happened to him; some combination of poor dietary habits and an overactive brain always had his brain conjuring up the strangest circumstances when given half a chance. All Riz ever wants when he sleeps is nothing but beloved, blessed black, something that has finally been bestowed upon him after weeks of restless slumber and rumpled sheets, weeks of nightmares not about a lurking cat in the night, but something much closer to home. It's the sort of thing you don't fess up to, not even to yourself. Admitting to it would mean admitting that there's a problem. Admitting to the problem would mean having to admit he doesn't know what to do about it.

Perhaps that's why when he's jolted back to wakefulness, some quiet corner of his brain is insistent that this too is a dream. It's straight out of his nightmares: Gorgug, broad, friendly face obscured in the dim lighting of the library, looming over him as he's caught unawares (the one thing Rogues should never do is sleep in public, goddamn it), huge hand outstretched towards him to -- what? To strike, to throttle, to hurt.

The Bad Kids already know that he gets jumpy when you wake him up, rattled and paranoid at the best of times, but the spasm of fear the crosses Riz's face as he wakes up, narrow pupils expanding until they practically swallow up the entirety of his irises, is unlike any way they've seen him before. He's numb to all active thought, every single cell in that big brain of his silenced by pure instinct.

Fabian's leadership had prevented him from caving to instinct when it came to the final showdown. Without Fabian at his back to bolster him, he's left to do the only natural thing: run. He scrambles backwards, a high, rumbling keen bubbling in the back of his throat as an undertone to his hissing, his baring of teeth as he tries to escape, the chair he'd previously been cozily curled up upon tipping over in his haste to get away. He's left in a heap on the ground, though he's quick to stumble to his feet, hands running over his torso as he darts away; he needs his sword, he needs his gun -- no, no, it's a dream, he's dreaming, he's --

He can't breathe. He can always breathe in his dreams. ]

[ Gorgug won't blame Riz. Gorgug doesn't blame Riz, or he wouldn't, if in that moment, Gorgug could immediately assess Riz's reaction--from the one across his face, to the one he takes on hands and feet--in any clear-headed manner.

But Gorgug can't. Because his head isn't clear, from the instant he sees the expression that unfurls across Riz's face. That's fear, and it's a look at that freezes every muscle inside Gorgug, to his brain and the section that would tell him it would be better to take back his hand. But by the time he can think of that, Riz is already darting off; and Gorgug retreats his hand back to his side with the book, his mind still blank, or numb. Staring at a floor and scattered books he doesn't see, his heartbeat racing in his chest.

It's okay. If a thought could manage to thread itself together and be, that would be the one that Gorgug would make. It's okay. There's a mess he's made on Harold's floor, but his feet turn him away from the mess and the direction that Riz went in, as his body takes control in deciding what has to happen: and that's Gorgug leaving. As soon as he can find a spot to put the books he still has on him somewhere, settle them down, and then he can go. Quiet, hunched, a figure of over 6 feet doing his best not to exist in the world around him, and it kinda works, in his experience. A lot of the times, he gets in the way; but even then, people live with things like bookcases. You just have to put them in a place where nobody thinks about them, and most kids really don't give a shit about a bookcase. He had that thought once, comparing his ever growing height to the furniture around him as a kid.

But now, the direction he follows is unlike a thought decided by his brain, but by something more bone-deep, instinctual. Leave, it tells him, and he will. Back out the way he came without saying a soul to anyone. ]

[ He was bound to slip up sometime, wasn't he? Things were fine with Gorgug, because they had no reason not to be fine. Gorgug had been through a big, horrible, awful, scary thing, and so had Riz, but it's not like they did it to each other. Not really. Not in any way that matters. So any lingering fear was supposed to be Riz's to deal with, much like he assumes Gorgug felt about his own ordeal (or so he'd gleaned from Gorgug's tepid attempts at gratitude as he and Fabian badgered him, and badgered him, and badgered him, and badgered him). As long as Riz had his wits about him, he could have it well figured out.

He wasn't planning on his fucking subconscious tricking him into the worst possible thing he could do. As the fear abates and he catches his breath with some difficulty, what had just happened sets in. And what makes an even bigger impression is the fact that Gorgug hadn't -- he didn't reach out to Riz to say it was just him, to make sure Riz knew that he wasn't dreaming, or to, he doesn't know, say something like dude we have got to get you off the caffeine. He's just leaving, shoulders hunched and head hung low like Riz had just slapped him across the face, and he can't bear it. Not Gorgug, who had already spent the first year he'd known him seemingly pretending to be smaller and weaker than he is. ]

Fuck!

[ He yanks at his hair, willing the fear to abate, then darts out of his hiding place, sprinting directly towards his friend. ]

Gorgug! Gorgug, wait! I didn't -- I was half-asleep, I didn't realize --

[ Is that any better? Hey, I thought I was dreaming about you, and it was scary! ]

I'm sorry I freaked out.

[ He doesn't want to stop walking. He does anyway because, that's the thing, right? If his friends speak to him, then he stops. He listens, even if the things that Riz are saying are-- they're wrong. I'm sorry I freaked out. Why? That's not what he should be saying. That's not the problem.

But Gorgug stops. Doesn't turn immediately, and he wonders if he wants to with this growing emotion inside his belly. Would it make him a coward to not look at Riz, even though the question that's already sitting on the back of his tongue, he already knows the real answer to it?

He doesn't need to confront Riz, and yet he does. Doesn't turn after all, but stares down at the polished floorboards weathered with age and feet. ]

...will you be honest and admit that you're scared of me?

[ It's not accusatory. It's not a demand, though there's the edge of a plea in there. Because he can't take this anymore. He can't take the dancing around this pressure of knowing that Riz is scared, but second-guessing it. Always second-guessing it.

And there can't be anymore second guessing. It's here now. It's out. ]

Huh?

[ Riz stops and just stares at Gorgug, as though stunned. He didn't know what he was expecting, Gorgug's sudden retreat being so uncharacteristic of how Riz usually thinks of him, but this isn't it. He'd known that this would all have to come out eventually, of course, that he wanted to apologize, for not noticing sooner, for not helping sooner, for all the things Gorgug had brought up. Like this, though?

His shoulders bunch up, elbows held tightly to his sides as his mind visibly whirrs, trying to figure out what to say. ]

I-it's not -- it wasn't you. [ He doesn't know how else to say it. That he's not afraid of Gorgug, gentle giant that he is, not the core of him. Not who he knows Gorgug to be, awkward and endlessly well-meaning and a little bit of a shit sometimes, but never mean. Never cruel.

It's not the answer Gorgug wants to hear. There's something in his dark eyes that betray that Riz can't wriggle his way out of this one, though his insides lurch treacherously, as though urging him to just run now. ]

...it still freaks me out sometimes, though. Yeah. It freaks you out too, doesn't it?

[ It has to. He knows it does. ]

[ Gorgug nods.

Desperate nods, hard nods, the kind that makes his hair shake and Gorgug screw up his eyes. Because he is scared--he's scared of a lot of things. Himself, and what he was, sure, but also what he did--what he was a part of. What he inflicted on people, as physical as well as emotionally. Mentally. What's the worst thing that he did to Riz? Isn't it all equally bad?

And he wants to say something about it, release the pressure valve building up in the back of his throat. But where to begin? What does he say? Gorgug shuffles in that spot, his fingers flexing into loose fists, rocking on his own weight. ]

I saw everything-- I enjoyed it, sometimes. And I wanted to make you feel bad-- I wanted to make you feel terrible.

[ Didn't he? He remembers things, and then he doesn't: the whiteboards, marking the differences between Fabian and Riz; holding him in place, then chasing him down to smack his face down against the fake tarmac of that world.

He doesn't look at Riz; voice trembling, and low. ]

I felt bad, too. But it felt good.

[ And does Riz know that? Shouldn't he know that?

Shouldn't it change this stance of Riz? Maybe there's still a part of him that wants Riz to hate him, even now. ]

[ Of course it freaks Gorgug out. How could it not? Riz remembers what it was like being underneath the control of the stupid doll, back before Gorgug had even gotten here -- his emotions had been completely out of his own control, and so had his actions, feeling as though he was moving on his own, as though his body had its own ideas as to what should happen. In the end, everything had ended perfectly fine.

Even so, it had scared him. He can't imagine being under a more nefarious control for such a long period of time, to have hurt people, hurt his friends. He doesn't want to imagine it. He clasps his hands in front of him, anxiously stretching and tugging at his fingers as he tries to sort out what it is Gorgug is trying to tell him. ]

...I didn't know you felt bad too, [ he admits, voice quiet, eyes darting down to look at his shoes. He drags his gaze back up again. ] While it was happening, I mean. The rest, I knew. I know.

[ That doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt to hear. It does. It would hurt to hear that anyone takes joy from his suffering, his friends most of all, but it's not like Gorgug feels that way now that he's in his right mind. Everything he's done since has been mincing, mild, trying to make himself small, trying to make sure he's not a problem.

If he wanted to hurt Riz, he could have done so without lifting a finger. ]

...why are you telling me this?

[ Why? The reason why is easy, even if Gorgug doesn't want to say it; the answer becoming trapped in his throat, and he's still avoiding looking over at Riz. It's a selfish reason--this shouldn't be about him. Not in a way that the question moves the attention onto him.

But Riz asked. And so, pathetically: ]

...because it scared me. [ What the Im'mari turned him into. How it warped his emotions. Hurting Riz too, but these were all parts of it that freaked him out. Freaks him out now. ]

So it's... okay if you're scared, too. I know... it was bad. And you don't have to be okay with me yet. Because I don't... [ He trails, sucks in his lips, licking them before he lets them go. ]

I want you to take care of you. Not just me. Not when-- we both got hurt. I hate...ignoring it. [ A pause, a beat, his head still hanging, his fists clenching around the rim of his hoodie sleeves-- ] I'm sorry. I don't wanna ignore it.

[ And those last few words get caught up in the emotion coming up through his throat, a sniffle that wipes with the back of his sleeve. Eyes still down, or closed, or squeezing tight. Because he's being selfish, because he's bringing up something Riz doesn't want brought up, but he--he cares about Riz more. Isn't this about caring about Riz more? About the things it feels like they're trying to ignore? ]

That's...

[ Riz lets out a frustrated little grunt. He doesn't know how to deal with this conversation. He just wasn't prepared for it -- not here, not now, not him without a script or any idea as to how it'll go, what the right or wrong thing to say is.

That's not what Gorgug wants, though. What he wants is the truth. Which is the same thing that Riz wants, generally; for many years now, the objective truth is the only thing that he had strived for. It turns out it's a lot harder when it the truth is about him, and not some murdered dead guy. ]

I wasn't lying about not being scared of you. Like, not you-you. It's everything else that's scary. [ He doesn't know how best to communicate that, that his fear of Gorgug isn't a fear of Gorgug. Even after everything, he trusts him with his life. It's just the idea of him being taken over by other things, of losing his friendship, of fucking things up more -- that's the scary part. ] Like talking.

[ He ducks his head, something clenching painfully in his heart as Gorgug begins to sniffle. ]

Avoiding it was my way of trying to help, um... both of us, I guess, but it hasn't worked out so good, huh? [ He tries for a queasy smile. ] I'd been meaning to talk about it, I just kept.

[ Pussying out, frankly. ]

I was so busy trying to figure out all the mysteries and stuff, I didn't catch that you got infected until it was too late. And that's -- I'm really sorry, Gorgug. I should've noticed sooner. I've been meaning to say that this whole time.

[ He rubs at the side of his face, forcing himself to keep composure; he really, really doesn't want to cry, even if seeing Gorgug cry makes the whole situation a dangerous one. ]

I wanted to make it up to you.

[ To make a lot up to him, if he's being honest. ]

[ Gorgug understands, and also can't. Trying to separate the him he was made into by the infection, and then the him that exists outside it: it's so hard to differentiate, even though he's been working to tell himself there's a difference. Because is there a real separation if he didn't fight hard enough to escape it? The same way that Riz is standing there now, blaming himself. ]

We all...thought it was the mission. It was stress. I didn't notice either. I thought I was-- fine. [ So how can you blame yourself? He was angry, stressed out, seeing things; and every part of it made sense at the time. When he remembers it now, thinks about sitting in the kitchen with Vanessa, his mind refuses to play anything. To recall the conversation.

How couldn't he have noticed? ]

I didn't mean anything that I said. Or wrote.

[ He doesn't really want to look at Riz. He's the one forcing them to have this conversation, but it doesn't mean it's easy, painless. And even with that reassurance, or clarification, or whatever it could be called, Gorgug keeps his head hanging, eyes down low.

He doesn't recall everything written, but he can sure that none of it was true. That there wasn't anything beyond the attempts to get under Riz's skin. ]

You never notice when it's happening to you, [ Riz says quietly. He knows that for a fact; it happened on a population-wide scale with the plushies, with the fear infection, and he doesn't think anybody could reasonably blame anyone for succumbing to it. ] Nobody did. A -- way easier version happened to me, before you even got to Etraya, and I didn't notice then either.

[ He hadn't wanted to notice. It was Fabian who noticed, free from all of the other distractions that had been thrown at them, able to actually sit down and concentrate on one friend at a time. But what comes next is more difficult than reasoning out apology, or blame. The fear that ensnares him sometimes when he's around Gorgug has everything to do with the physicality of their confrontation, face smashed into the ground, wrist limp in Gorgug's fist but it doesn't bother him. The fear is pure animal instinct. That doesn't mean it haunts him.

What Gorgug said does. It wasn't the stabs in the dark of a villain trying to get underneath his skin, no sweeping blanket sentiments about cowardice and stupidity that never manage to land on their mark. It was more specific than that, a barrage of criticism that only someone who's known him as long Gorgug could confront him with. It was like Kalina all over again. Sure, Kalina and the entity had possessed Gorgug were out to get him -- but they also knew him. It's his turn to glance away, fiddling with the strap of his watch. ]

...do you really believe that? [ He swallows thickly. ] I mean -- I know you'd never say any of that stuff, man. You don't want to hurt us, even if you're annoyed.

[ He'll just sulk about it. Or be a little bit of a bitch. Or blare music on his headphones really, really loudly. Certainly a less obtrusive way of showing his annoyance than Riz and Fabian's noise and clamour. ]

But that doesn't mean there wasn't some truth in it too. Like how people might say stuff they don't actually mean when they're drunk, but they had to have had those thoughts in the first place. [ He shifts. ] It wasn't all wrong.

[ Was there any part of it that he meant? It's hard to recall, though the only instance that he can that he would say was true isn't anything against Riz: it's about himself. Not being a good enough friend, not connecting with those close to him like he should. ]

You're not the reason we're here. You're not-- it's not your fault someone died in Moorecroft. I don't like everyone else more than you. [ Looking at Riz is hard right now, and he doesn't entirely want to do it; but Gorgug glances his way, if only to show that he means it. Even if looking at Riz makes him feel bad, thinking and remembering the things he said, who he was--or wasn't, when that entity had him. When they were stuck in that hellscape. ]

I hope that I'm... a good friend. But I know you. You look out for all of us. You like to take care of everything, and you don't like to sleep 'cause, your mind's always thinking about everything, and, you're the most cautious of us all, and maybe you just hate sleeping as a thing? But we have our birthdays together, and you-- you're gonna help me with my classes. You help us all with our classes. You're one of my best friends.

[ The board was wrong. Everything written on that board was wrong, and he wishes he could go back and tear at them, or any place they have in Riz's mind. Whatever he thinks was real.

He swallows against the lump in his throat. ]

I heard you-- in that fight. Because you always-- I know I can follow you.

[ Whatever he says. Gorgug will listen. ]

[ Riz chokes on a stifled sob before Gorgug's even done talking, the simple declaration of: you're one of my best friends striking him right in the heart. It's not as though that's news to him. Of everything that Gorgug had said while under the influence, that had been one of the easier ones to rationalize away -- after everything they've done together, everything they've experienced, now that they live together, how could they not be? But the difference between knowing and knowing is stark and hits him like a punch to the gut.

The sheer force of repressed emotion washes over him as physically as it does mentally, stomach tight, hands clammy, heart racing as though they're in the midst of battle and not just having a really, really hard conversation. He can feel his composure collapsing, bit by bit. There's more he had to say but somehow he can't seem to reach the words. ]

I - I, um. [ While Riz has his outbursts, he considers himself to be a steel trap when he needs to be. He's good at pushing things down, as though saving them for later. Which is why it's equally surprising for Riz as it may be for Gorgug when he promptly bursts into tears. ]

Sorry. Shit. Sorry. [ He scrubs at his face as though he can force himself to stop but keeps his hands curled over it even after that attempt fails. Hiding. ] I'm -- I'm really glad you could hear me.

[ That even then, when Gorgug was battling the worst of the infection, gone mad with rage and sickness, an entity more powerful than Riz can comprehend, some part of him knew instinctually to trust him, that even Riz with his fist raised will surely have his best interests at heart. Voice wet, he wavers out: ] You're one of my best friends too.

[ It's watching Riz that affects him more. The shifting, twitches of his features, his expression, and when the sob breaks out, he's stunned one second, and then feels what was a watery lump lodge more perfectly inside him. Gorgug swallow, holds his mouth close so he doesn't follow in Riz's tracks, yet-- that's hard. Hearing Riz speak, apologise, be thankful.

He misses him, is the thing. He misses them, and it's as much as Gorgug's fault as it is the infection's, the state it left him in, the bubble around him he felt he couldn't breach around Riz. It was only right to be careful: after what he did, how he grabbed Riz, pressed his small body into the ground and made bone, as well as glasses, crack.

You're one of my best friends too. ]

Coo'. [ Cool, he means, in a voice tiny. The emotion blurs it, the wetness in the back of his throat that's risen, now spilling from his eyes. Gorgug sniffles, wipes both his nose and eyes with the back of his sleeve. He wants to be closer to Riz, he wants to touch him, but there's still a hesitance, barriers he feels he can't cross. But, waiting for his throat to give him a chance to speak, the sniffles he has to do to be able to speak: ]

I-- I've missed you. Us.

[ Riz can understand, right? While Gorgug's been in a haze, his catatonic-yet-mobile state-- he's missed them, their friendship. Riz's manic energy that buzzes like electricity, just as chaotic, even when contained within one small frame. Pacing, biting, alive.

He misses it all. ]

[ It's horrible, isn't it? The position that they've been put into, wholly without need. If they were just ordinary teenagers, just high school friends, there's so much that could stand between them. Plans for the future, or Gorgug ditching his friends to hang out more with his girlfriend, or Riz getting jealous of all of Gorgug's friends in other classes, or stress at home boiling over in the cafeteria, not this. Not memories wrenching at their hearts despite the fact that at the end of the day, they were both just trying to do the right thing by each other.

It stings. There was no right move, he's beginning to realize. There was before that thing took over Gorgug, and there was after, and the only way to get through the other side was to simply wade through it and hope that the pressure would lessen, over time. Because... because Gorgug's one of Riz's best friends, and Riz is one of his best friends too, and they want to go back to before. Before, with Riz making a nuisance of himself and crawling on top of Gorgug without hesitation, Gorgug not too afraid to move or take a step out of place, back to easy, quiet companionship with nothing laden in the silence between them. They've been too careful, too cautious, too afraid on stepping on each other's toes and waiting for the worst to happen, because that's what they've been trained to do. They're always waiting for the worst to happen.

He wishes that they were back home, hanging out in AV Club together, exchanging glances when someone says something particularly stupid, and then Gorgug would take Riz back home in his van while Riz yelled about whatever it was that Riz had to yell about that day, and Gorgug tried to find the right moment to break in to ask Riz to stop leaving so much shit in his van.

But they're not. They're here, and they have to deal with it. And while Riz fancies himself to be an independent kind of guy, when it comes to times like this, big fat tears rolling down his face and shoulders trembling with the effort of trying to keep from crying more (he's a big, messy crier when he allows those cracks to show, face blotchy and nose running, and it's all very embarrassing), all he really wants is comfort. A friendly touch, a reassuring word. Maybe a glass of water. He's not shameless enough to actually ask for a hug after freaking out like that, but he does shuffle miserably forward until his forehead smacks into the top of Gorgug's thigh. ]

Me too, [ he manages, voice wet. ] I was -- trying to do the right thing.

[ He always does, sometimes to the point of mania, fixated and odd -- but this is different from Riz's usual staunch insistence on right and wrong. He was trying to do the right thing, as though that other Gorgug was still holding court over him, to try to be the kind of friend that he wanted Riz to be. Needed him to be.

Which is, in hindsight, a little stupid. That guy was a real jerk. ]

[ There's not a lot that Gorgug has grace in. Nothing, really, to be truthful, but he comes down to a crouch with the ease of familiarity, of habit; knees tucking in, his hands coming to rest on top of them. When Riz comes over to him, the move is made unconsciously--this is what he does when he's upset, this is what he does when he wants to be closer to Riz. To his parents, when he wants to be more their height than hanging his head to look down at them.

So he can be on their levels. But even if it's something he wants, Gorgug turns his gaze down to his hands instead of keeping it on Riz, a shame following him down with the last of what Riz admits. I was trying to do the right thing. That's the thing, isn't it? ]

Me too. [ His voice is small, matching maybe his current height--or even smaller than that. ] I wanted to get better for you. I wanted...want to make it up to you. What I did. And I kind of want us to be really good friends who don't dance around our problems, or, I guess I-- [ He stops, swallows; glancing up at Riz, the small height he's given when Gorgug crouches like this, lets his back hunch. There's a ring of tears around his lower lids, a few dropping when he blinks, looks back down.

But whatever was helping him to hold back on the dam breaks, when every thought of every thing he wants to say and express hits him at once. ]

I'm sorry, Riz, [ he chokes, like he's tried to say before, like he's wanted to, but has always been too afraid to--to cry, to make himself more pitiful than he already was. He didn't deserve to be upset. He didn't deserve to make a scene. No one wanted to hear it, and Fabian heard it enough when he first woke up, so Gorgug allowed himself to stay numb from the shock of having the Im'mari inside his system for a month. Stay detached. Hope that things might get better, while always waiting on some way to pay back his debt to everyone--to Fabian, to Riz.

He pulls a wrist up and presses it up to his face, covering his eyes, trying to be quiet in his weeping. And being everything but. ]

[ Unintentional though it may be, Riz can't see Gorgug getting down to his level as anything but an implicit invitation. How many times has Gorgug lowered himself so that Riz can whisper in his ear, or scuttle up onto his back, or any of the other thousand things that necessitate them being at the same level? None of the other Bad Kids moved with such intuitive ease as Gorgug did when they first met, the extent to which Gorgug's used to being around smallfolk. He'd never told Gorgug what a comfort that was, to always have someone who was immediately aware of what he could see, what he could do, what he might need.

He is admittedly hunched over, sobbing - an unfamiliar sound, Gorgug shrinking until he looks pitifully small, even next to Riz, and one that shoots directly into his heart - but maybe even if he's not asking for it, he'd like to be hugged. He moves in regardless, knowing that even if it's unwelcome, Gorgug won't rebuff him now. He scuttles up to him, all but scaling his knee, claws slight pinpricks in the exposed tears of his jeans and throws his arms around his neck, squeezing as hard as he can.

Up close like this, he can feel the trembling of Gorgug's shoulders, feel the reverberation of his voice as he sobs. It's hard to think of him as the person who'd hurt him, now. ]

I'm sorry too, [ he sniffles, realizing that his crying has begun anew, as though they're just moving in a complete circle; crying is as infectious as a sneeze. ] Maybe...

[ It's a very un-Riz-like suggestion that falls out of his mouth. ]

Maybe we stop trying so hard to do the right thing?

[ Maybe then, they can just go back to normal. ]

[ Riz reads him well, like any veteran detective--or maybe like a friend who knows Gorgug: he doesn't ask for it, but Gorgug wants that hug. His body, soul--every part of him realises how much it's missed Riz's physical contact, and when the arms come around him small yet tight, Gorgug frees up one of his arms to come around Riz's back from below, face bowing close to the mess of Riz's hair.

And he nods, a motion that Riz may feel better than see; an attempt to follow it with words, but it struggles to come out from the sobs.

Still: ] Y-y-- yeah. I-I wanna stop-- let's stop.

[ Because if that's what's ruining them, then Gorgug doesn't want it, whatever stops them from being honest with one another. He just wants his friend back, and he knows he has to be better about keeping him here: not withdrawing, not keeping his distance. Taking risks, even if later, the thought might scare him at times. Like it might become the library all over, but even so, he'll be better then, too.

He won't turn away. It's okay to be afraid. As long as they work to get over it, right?

It turns out that waiting for things to get better on their own doesn't actually achieve anything. Who knew? ]

Okay. Let's stop.

[ It's all out in the open now, at least. It goes against everything that Riz is inclined to do and say and, he assumes, everything that Gorgug is inclined to do and say; Gorgug is equally as focused on doing the right thing as Riz is and is, historically, much less insensitive than Riz himself is. But sometimes that's not good enough. Sometimes you just have to admit that things are fucked up and everyone's a little bit scared, even if it's nobody's fault. And this isn't. It really isn't. As sorry as Riz is, as sorry as Gorgug is, it's neither of their fault.

It's the fault of this place. And maybe a little bit Vanessa's fault, and maybe Aurora's fault for not safeguarding them, and definitely that horrible entity's fault, but it's not theirs. He's still crying (once that particularly dam is broken, he's done for), nose running all over the shoulder of Gorgug's hoodie. He doesn't move. He doesn't particularly want to.

He thinks this might be the first time they've even touched, since. Well. Since. He doesn't really want to let go. But... ]

If we're gonna cry, can we do it at home?

[ He doesn't want to be caught here, to have to explain everything, open and exposed in this wreckage of books and shelving. He's not sure when the place they share together stopped being the apartment and started being home, but he doesn't want to think about it right now. He just wants to be somewhere where they can feel safe, and to eat ice cream, and watch dumb shit, or just do whatever it is they need to do to fix this. ]

[ Someone is thinking about their surroundings. Gorgug is more lost in the tears and holding his best friend, one of five, as important as the rest, and he's the one he cares to focus on. But when Riz speaks, Gorgug pulling back his head at the request and sniffling deeply to uselessly draw back snot, he does allow the outside to exist. It's a fair request, and Gorgug wouldn't particularly like anyone coming over and nosing into their business; and he wipes at his nose, face smudged wet with tears, and he nods, mouth clamped down into a frown to stop his lips from trembling. ]

Okay. [ Okay. Home. Home's safe. Home makes sense. Fabian is unlikely to be there, too, which, Gorgug isn't opposed to the other's presence, but he might like some more time with Riz to himself. They need more of it, without the weight of them doing their best where they try to say the right things, be the right people.

His arms come to rest on his knees, losing this hug. But... ]

...can I give you a ride back? I miss you on my shoulder.

[ Even if it sometimes (most times) comes with clawing, can come with biting when Riz is at his most riled. He misses the proximity, the closeness--the normalcy of Riz hitching a ride on him. ]

Oh, [ Riz says first, just staring at Gorgug for a moment. He'd still climbed on Gorgug occasionally, but he'd stopped doing it as often even before this whole mess happened. After they sort of talked around it, he'd just assumed --

Well, apparently assuming is the problem here, and he's a worse detective than he thought. But if being a worse detective means that sometimes he's wrong about how his friends want him around, or why, he can definitely live with that. ]

Okay. I thought maybe you didn't like it anymore, [ Riz says, but chooses not to elaborate. They've already cleared the air, after all. ] I've missed it too.

[ And he has. Despite everything that happened in their fateful encounter, Gorgug's always been the person Riz feels safest around, and there's something delightful about being able to see the whole world from his perspective. It doesn't take long for Riz to scurry behind Gorgug, arms wrapped loosely around his neck, their hug replaced with the contact of Riz's chest to Gorgug's back, slotted in just where he belongs.

(It does include a little of clawing up Gorgug's back and shoulders and his sweaters may never be the same, but sometimes sacrifices just have to be made.) ]

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