i_speak_softly | Luceti Appointments

... Mm? [Robert's gaze flickers up from the board - he'd been studying the pawn structure, in the hopes he could calculate the efficiency percentages of the next possible moves he could take - and it's a second before he registers Don's words.]

... Well... [... Other than the fact he's got a tainted soul now, and he just confessed his drug history to Helios a day or so ago...?]

... I... I suppose, but... I am not c-certain if I... can.

[At least not the former.]

[Calculating anything is beyond Don's powers right now - he's making moves more or less by rote.]

[He shrugs, as casual as he can make it.]

I thought some conversation might help distract you.

[At that, Robert's fingers pause mid-grip on one of his pieces, and he hesitates a moment.]

... W-well. ... Things have... c-certainly been... difficult recently...

... I... I... have spoken to Helios, about... [- and he stumbles for a second -] ... m-my drug history, now.

... It... it was a very... e-emotional moment...

[Not one he really wants to get into too much, but this week is going to be full of glossing things over.]

Edited 2012-02-04 16:52 (UTC)

[Not quite how Don expected that sentence to end, but he nods.]

What did he say?

... I do not... th-think he cared in the least... [The actual words were ones that were more relevant to Helios' own problems than his.

...

It occurs to Robert that both of the men he loves the most have killed people.]

... It is... s-surprising, to... to know that my failures are... are n-not such a burden to others...

[Don smiles - forced, but he's good at faking.]

[Robert is... not so much.

... Of course, he can't tell this smile is forced in the least.]

What about... yourself? Has... anything happened?

Other than sleeping a lot? Not really...

[Despite himself, Robert can't help but smile faintly himself.]

... Ah, well... I do hope you have been... a-alright. You at least seem... better, than you were. More... coherent.

[This is good, right?]

It comes and goes. [He can't remember what he told you about this, but he assumes something, or you would be freaking out more.] Have I said anything especially stupid?

[Give him a moment - though Robert rarely thinks of what Don says in terms of "stupidity".]

... You... f-forgot what my pendant was. Or... or what it was for.

[Awkwardly:] You... also referred to us as... friends.

[Clearly that wasn't an accurate descriptor.]

[Don blinks slowly, puzzling over this. Is Robert not his friend? And should he know what the pendant is for?]

It looks like a turtle. I'm not sure what you mean by the rest...

The romantic parts of it. [It feels strange to have to spell this out.] That we are... partners. ... Lovers.

"Friends" is... a rather inadequate descriptor for such.

[... though that does raise the question - what the hell is Helios?]

[... What? That can't be right.]

Robert, don't do that...

... What should I... not do? [Robert's face actually falls, at this.] What do you mean...?

[He's definitely not focusing on chess anymore.]

Don't lie to the - the - [What is that word for a person who can't remember things.] The turtle with a memory problem. It's not funny.

Why would you think I was lying, Don...? [You are breaking his heart, Don...] I... I would never lie to you...

[Sure, quietly not mention things, perhaps, but that's not the same thing, is it?]

[Panicking a little - it's one thing to have your memories temporarily inaccessible, but it's another thing to be told you've forgotten a defining relationship.] Because it can't be true! You're a human, I'm a turtle, we would never -- How could I forget that? We're friends, Robert, close friends, but you're with Helios and ... and ... [And why was that so upsetting to him?] And I'm afraid you won't be my friend anymore...

...

[...

Just. Just... going to stare.

Quietly staring for a good half a minute, actually.

Finally:] I may have... k-kissed Helios, but he has... absolutely n-no interest in me...

[And more importantly:] ... besides, since when did your s-species matter in any way...?

[Don waits anxiously while Robert stares.]

He doesn't...?

[His mouth twists into a not-laugh at a cruel joke.]

If it didn't matter, I would know what was going on right now.

[Okay, being entirely serious now.]

No. He... n-never has. Not when I first asked, and it... d-did not change...

[This is painful to sit here and spell out, but clearly he's going to have to do it.]

We have been partners s-since... since February. It is... rapidly closing in on one year.

[Damnit, Don, are you going to be winter brain'd into forgetting their anniversary?]

... I would n-never leave you. For... for any reason. Good gods, Don, why would you even think...? [He trails off, his eyes stinging and his voice not really wanting to cooperate. Is this about what happened a few days ago?]

[Don leans back in his seat and crosses his arms, adopting a closed-off posture. He's trying to think backwards from what he remembers Leo telling him - obviously a lot of important context has departed for his memory's wintering grounds, wherever that is.]

[As he thinks, though, he glances sideways at Robert, taking note of the man's distress. He feels compelled to comfort him, but - is it different from what he would do for his brothers? Or for April?]

[He isn't sure...]

[Sometimes in the winter it doesn't even feel like he's talking to Don - rather, that he's talking to someone who looks exactly like Don but acts like some simplified version of him, some abstract concept of his partner.

It is very hard not to feel that way right now, not when every word out of Don's mouth batters him around emotionally.

He really doesn't remember.]

D-Don. I love you. I... h-have never loved anybody like y-you... I cannot understand how you could f-forget this... [As if it meant nothing. But this means that the memory problems run deeper than Robert could've ever anticipated.]

... I kn-know you cannot help this. B-But... but it still h-hurts, when you are so... d-distant sometimes and... and we c-cannot be together, and... [Robert's voice trails off, thins out, and then splinters like thin wood.

Then he brings a hand up to his face and sobs a little.]

[Either Robert is telling the truth, or he is a far better actor than Don's tenuous sense of reality says he should be.]

[The Turtle can only find two words.]

I'm sorry...

[There's a few tight seconds of silence, where Robert tries not to outright cry, and then he pulls himself over to Don, throws his arms around him and just clings.]

P-Please do not forget me...

[He knows, logically, Don can't promise anything. Not in this state. But maybe he wants to be lied to, because it's comforting.]

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