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[A good idea in theory is not what he wants to hear. He says:] I won't, [and is obviously lying. He already has a knot in his chest when he pushes Eddie out at arms length to really look at him.
He doesn't notice the cheek at first. His eyes go to his throat and the bandage there, the slight discolouration from puss and blood. Beyond this, it looks mostly clean. It looks like someone took care to apply it. He doesn't know whether Billy or the girlfriend are responsible for it, and he finds he doesn't really care.
He notices the mark on his cheek next, and faintly, even as he asks, he has some idea of what happened here. ] What did they do to you?
He doesn't notice the cheek at first. His eyes go to his throat and the bandage there, the slight discolouration from puss and blood. Beyond this, it looks mostly clean. It looks like someone took care to apply it. He doesn't know whether Billy or the girlfriend are responsible for it, and he finds he doesn't really care.
He notices the mark on his cheek next, and faintly, even as he asks, he has some idea of what happened here. ] What did they do to you?
[A quiet follows. Jim understands, to some degree, that this must be difficult for Stephen to say. It doesn't make it easier to know that Stephen came to him and Jim didn't notice a thing wrong. It doesn't make it easier to think that Stephen came to him because perhaps he thought Jim might be easy.
After a long moment, he finds his voice again. ] I didn't see it. I didn't see it in you. I should have - [should have known something was wrong when Stephen came and took Jim straight to bed. ]
After a long moment, he finds his voice again. ] I didn't see it. I didn't see it in you. I should have - [should have known something was wrong when Stephen came and took Jim straight to bed. ]
yeah ok sorry.
I just don't want anybody to hurt him any more.
OK. will deliver your mattress! promise! gonna go cry now! call me if you need me!
I just don't want anybody to hurt him any more.
OK. will deliver your mattress! promise! gonna go cry now! call me if you need me!
[ They've had an echo of this conversation before, not so long ago, only then it was the signs of a murderer Hopper thought he should've caught and now it's Stephen wanting him that he thinks was the give away he ought never to have missed. His throat burns, clenched tight with the urge to cry. ]
Don't. [ Think that, don't think that. Even if it's true. Without something else to be terrified of, would Stephen ever have been so uncomplicated? ] Jim.
[ Can't be a coward now, not now (John had been right to call him one, but he can't own it this time - ) ]
I came because I needed [ safety, comfort, home ] you.
Don't. [ Think that, don't think that. Even if it's true. Without something else to be terrified of, would Stephen ever have been so uncomplicated? ] Jim.
[ Can't be a coward now, not now (John had been right to call him one, but he can't own it this time - ) ]
I came because I needed [ safety, comfort, home ] you.
I hardly remember it.
[ untrue. ]
Thank you, for helping Aemond. I should not have lied to you about him or Aegon, but I was worried for their safety. I could not reveal their true identities to anyone. [ she draws a breath. ] I realize now how futile that attempt that was.
[ untrue. ]
Thank you, for helping Aemond. I should not have lied to you about him or Aegon, but I was worried for their safety. I could not reveal their true identities to anyone. [ she draws a breath. ] I realize now how futile that attempt that was.
it can be for people who aren't in the same room with this wonderful mental network. or actually... even people in the same room who gotta focus on something else
that's an idea ( next moot hall, baby!
but back to being a nuisance. he can't send the sensation of himself between jim's legs, mouthing at his cock through the thin material of the underwear he's wearing but he can sure send the visuals of it, of his own desperate little whines when jim tugged him away with a firm hand in his hair. )
that's an idea ( next moot hall, baby!
but back to being a nuisance. he can't send the sensation of himself between jim's legs, mouthing at his cock through the thin material of the underwear he's wearing but he can sure send the visuals of it, of his own desperate little whines when jim tugged him away with a firm hand in his hair. )
[the image startles him. it appears before him, little hologram of his own legs, his own cock, his own hands, Eddie's hair. he drops his pan, hisses when it lands on his toes, and then gives it a kick for good measure.
he realises, quicker now, that Eddie is not going to give up. and it's not as though the image isn't appealing; it's not as though he doesn't want it - it's just that he'd rather have it here, and now, and knows that he could.
it's not like being undercover, talking on a stolen phone with Diane with his hand shoved down his pants. it's so lazy, it's so carefully thought out. he's sitting in his chair before he can really think twice about it, with his thighs spread wide, massaging over his forehead. before he can second-guess it, he thinks:]
You want my cock that bad, baby? You usually ask nicer.
he realises, quicker now, that Eddie is not going to give up. and it's not as though the image isn't appealing; it's not as though he doesn't want it - it's just that he'd rather have it here, and now, and knows that he could.
it's not like being undercover, talking on a stolen phone with Diane with his hand shoved down his pants. it's so lazy, it's so carefully thought out. he's sitting in his chair before he can really think twice about it, with his thighs spread wide, massaging over his forehead. before he can second-guess it, he thinks:]
You want my cock that bad, baby? You usually ask nicer.
( eddie glances up with a sharp edge in his eyes, not convinced, but he lets himself be moved anyway so jim can get a good look at him.
he turns his head away, as if jim will suddenly forget what he saw if eddie's showing him the right cheek instead of the scarred up left. that's the nicer one, anyway, no scars on it whatsoever. he feels a fierce protectiveness in his chest, doesn't want to fucking say it even though it's inevitable. someone will rat what happened out, billy'll probably confess to it anyway.
eddie hates the thought of that too, as much as he hates the whole of the last month. fuck. ) They were trying to help. To cut me off from the others and M-- the Slender.
I'm fine now. ( just left with a mark on his face and the smell of his own charred flesh in his nose. he hasn't been looking at jim this whole time, glances up at him now and feels a tightness in his chest, a complicated twisting that makes him want to step in closer again. he reaches up, runs his thumb over the worry lines settle in below hopper's hairline like he can smooth them out and push the emotions away with them. ) You can look me over and check it if you want?
( he doesn't actually want jim to check them but he'll let him look, let him fuss. eddie thinks he might lose it and cry if hopper's too gentle about it, kind of wants to come apart when he hasn't let himself do that after the tears and breakdown that followed being free. )
he turns his head away, as if jim will suddenly forget what he saw if eddie's showing him the right cheek instead of the scarred up left. that's the nicer one, anyway, no scars on it whatsoever. he feels a fierce protectiveness in his chest, doesn't want to fucking say it even though it's inevitable. someone will rat what happened out, billy'll probably confess to it anyway.
eddie hates the thought of that too, as much as he hates the whole of the last month. fuck. ) They were trying to help. To cut me off from the others and M-- the Slender.
I'm fine now. ( just left with a mark on his face and the smell of his own charred flesh in his nose. he hasn't been looking at jim this whole time, glances up at him now and feels a tightness in his chest, a complicated twisting that makes him want to step in closer again. he reaches up, runs his thumb over the worry lines settle in below hopper's hairline like he can smooth them out and push the emotions away with them. ) You can look me over and check it if you want?
( he doesn't actually want jim to check them but he'll let him look, let him fuss. eddie thinks he might lose it and cry if hopper's too gentle about it, kind of wants to come apart when he hasn't let himself do that after the tears and breakdown that followed being free. )
More than I'd like.
[More and more every year, it feels like. And now Russia; if it's an infection, it's spreading and Jim's useless against it. They close one and another two come to bite him in the ass. ]
My kid, she's the only one I've seen that's ever been able to close them. But it takes so much out of her. She's just a kid. Maybe magic would be easier - whatever they are it's. Science, I guess. Physics. Beyond me, that's for sure.
[More and more every year, it feels like. And now Russia; if it's an infection, it's spreading and Jim's useless against it. They close one and another two come to bite him in the ass. ]
My kid, she's the only one I've seen that's ever been able to close them. But it takes so much out of her. She's just a kid. Maybe magic would be easier - whatever they are it's. Science, I guess. Physics. Beyond me, that's for sure.
( there he is. eddie's grinning to himself, a few nails in his mouth and a hammer in hand which is probably the worst task for him to be doing while he's trying to rile jim up. it's inevitable that he'll lose focus on this soon, yeah, but he wants to draw it out.
maybe it's revenge for the fact that even after john healed him, daddy's fat dick was off limits for a few days. at least anywhere near his mouth.
he can work with this. ) i want it, daddy
please? you haven't let me
want to taste you, make it good
i'm good, right?
maybe it's revenge for the fact that even after john healed him, daddy's fat dick was off limits for a few days. at least anywhere near his mouth.
he can work with this. ) i want it, daddy
please? you haven't let me
want to taste you, make it good
i'm good, right?
[ A tightening of his expression. Frustrating, to hear this and not be able to help. But that feeling must be amplified by unimaginable degrees when you're a father watching your kid, unable to help her.
Abruptly, he notes a parallel. ]
There's a kid back home. She turned up in my world one day needing help, chased by something from another dimension. She opens portals, clean across the multiverse, and it's got her in some pretty serious shit.
[ America taught him plenty in a very short stretch of time. Stephen's briefly faraway gaze ticks back to settle on Jim's. Steady. ]
Can't protect them from who they are, or be that person for them. But I'll bet your kid has one hell of a home to come back to.
Abruptly, he notes a parallel. ]
There's a kid back home. She turned up in my world one day needing help, chased by something from another dimension. She opens portals, clean across the multiverse, and it's got her in some pretty serious shit.
[ America taught him plenty in a very short stretch of time. Stephen's briefly faraway gaze ticks back to settle on Jim's. Steady. ]
Can't protect them from who they are, or be that person for them. But I'll bet your kid has one hell of a home to come back to.
[Eddie came to him, too. The irony, Jim thinks, is that he's never been good at providing comfort. He's a conditioned stiff upper lip; he's an awkward cough, a pat on the back. Without the claustrophobic expectations of Hawkins, he's (perhaps) become better at it, here. Allowed himself the time to think, to consider his actions, to allow other people the time to express themselves, to coax something warmer than a stilted acknowledgement out of him.
But he's still, he thinks, slightly frigid with his feelings. Stephen came to him despite this. Eddie came to him despite this. Despite his slow crawl to self-acceptance. Despite how, even now, Jim sometimes thinks he's become broken just because he finds comfort in other men, and how that makes him want to crawl out of his skin. Makes him want to lock his doors, shut the curtains, make himself unavailable because he's too weak to resist when one of them comes calling.
He doesn't know what to do with all this affection. He doesn't know what to do with the compacted, roiling love he sometimes feels for Stephen, or Billy, or Javert, or Alicent, when it's all based on fiction. The very fact he can't shake it probably made him the perfect target; made him easy to manipulate. He wants to be angry. He wants to tap into some of the rage that Billy is capable of and feel it down to his bones. Two years ago, this would have been easy. Here, and now? He's tired. He's just really fucking sad.
His voice is thick, eyes damp, when he finally coughs and manages to get out: ] Why?
[And maybe he should be angry about asking this too. About the weak, miserable part of him that needs to know what on Earth Stephen Strange could possibly see in or need from him. He thinks: you're a grown fucking man, Jim, like this will make the feeling go away. ]
But he's still, he thinks, slightly frigid with his feelings. Stephen came to him despite this. Eddie came to him despite this. Despite his slow crawl to self-acceptance. Despite how, even now, Jim sometimes thinks he's become broken just because he finds comfort in other men, and how that makes him want to crawl out of his skin. Makes him want to lock his doors, shut the curtains, make himself unavailable because he's too weak to resist when one of them comes calling.
He doesn't know what to do with all this affection. He doesn't know what to do with the compacted, roiling love he sometimes feels for Stephen, or Billy, or Javert, or Alicent, when it's all based on fiction. The very fact he can't shake it probably made him the perfect target; made him easy to manipulate. He wants to be angry. He wants to tap into some of the rage that Billy is capable of and feel it down to his bones. Two years ago, this would have been easy. Here, and now? He's tired. He's just really fucking sad.
His voice is thick, eyes damp, when he finally coughs and manages to get out: ] Why?
[And maybe he should be angry about asking this too. About the weak, miserable part of him that needs to know what on Earth Stephen Strange could possibly see in or need from him. He thinks: you're a grown fucking man, Jim, like this will make the feeling go away. ]
[ In the quiet of nature, cold breeze through sparse leaves, Stephen listens to the brief nothing on the other end of the mental connection and steadies his breathing, calms himself down on the surface. The rest of him churns, waiting for Jim to speak again.
When he does, his eyes press shut. What can he say? What does he dare? So much of it is still an untouched mess, tangled and knotted, threads loose and scratching. If he'd spent any measure of time trying to pick apart the strands of another life before he tangled them with the reality of this one they might never have found themselves in quite this position. But he didn't. And now here they are. And what he has to say is as much as he can. ]
I've never been with anyone that long.
[ The first and predicating truth. Stephen may have loved one woman for the vast majority of his adult life, but they were barely together for a fraction of it. He's not lived with another person in a long time. Not shared space, much less a life. No marriage, no kids. ]
You'd have expected it to be perfect. If I was going to dream up a life, you'd think I'd stretch to wedded bliss, no? [ He lapses. Quiet for a moment. Spurs himself on again. ] I think that was point. That it wasn't perfect, that I wasn't perfect, and you still -
[ Stayed. Gave up a life to carry him through the hardest moments of his, in spite of everything he was. Because of it. ]
We were other people in another place that didn't exist. I know. But I've spent plenty of time with you - every time I do I recognise you more. I just don't think I made that much of you up.
[ The surrounds, maybe. The city and the time, the context of the life, the easier attitudes, the technology, the disaster that tied it all together. But the man? No. Stephen could never have written Jim Hopper like that. He would never have conceived of him to begin with. So with his inhibitions lifted, fear and reason turned to weaponized tatters only primed for specific use (none of which reserved for protecting himself from the things he's been running from for months)...
The answer is long, and its lack of being an actual answer to the question asked is extremely loud. But he doesn't have the words. It's as close as he can get. ]
When he does, his eyes press shut. What can he say? What does he dare? So much of it is still an untouched mess, tangled and knotted, threads loose and scratching. If he'd spent any measure of time trying to pick apart the strands of another life before he tangled them with the reality of this one they might never have found themselves in quite this position. But he didn't. And now here they are. And what he has to say is as much as he can. ]
I've never been with anyone that long.
[ The first and predicating truth. Stephen may have loved one woman for the vast majority of his adult life, but they were barely together for a fraction of it. He's not lived with another person in a long time. Not shared space, much less a life. No marriage, no kids. ]
You'd have expected it to be perfect. If I was going to dream up a life, you'd think I'd stretch to wedded bliss, no? [ He lapses. Quiet for a moment. Spurs himself on again. ] I think that was point. That it wasn't perfect, that I wasn't perfect, and you still -
[ Stayed. Gave up a life to carry him through the hardest moments of his, in spite of everything he was. Because of it. ]
We were other people in another place that didn't exist. I know. But I've spent plenty of time with you - every time I do I recognise you more. I just don't think I made that much of you up.
[ The surrounds, maybe. The city and the time, the context of the life, the easier attitudes, the technology, the disaster that tied it all together. But the man? No. Stephen could never have written Jim Hopper like that. He would never have conceived of him to begin with. So with his inhibitions lifted, fear and reason turned to weaponized tatters only primed for specific use (none of which reserved for protecting himself from the things he's been running from for months)...
The answer is long, and its lack of being an actual answer to the question asked is extremely loud. But he doesn't have the words. It's as close as he can get. ]
Edited 2024-02-12 15:57 (UTC)
Hey.
[ Cautious, cowardly. Thought devoid of voice
This is one of the conversations he wants to have the least. One it'd be so easy to just cut out of the rounds, have afterward, hope he just doesn't notice...
But he would notice. And he can't do that to him again. ]
I'm going to be gone for a bit.
[ Cautious, cowardly. Thought devoid of voice
This is one of the conversations he wants to have the least. One it'd be so easy to just cut out of the rounds, have afterward, hope he just doesn't notice...
But he would notice. And he can't do that to him again. ]
I'm going to be gone for a bit.
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