beholding_archivist | revivalproject IC Contact

[Well, he isn't going to respond. This was something that needed said in person. Which is why he was there in the library, not twenty minutes later, bag still over his shoulder and the stuffed cat doll riding along in it so that it didn't have to keep up with Reeve's stride.]

Jon?

[Hello, he is here, wrecker of homes.]

[ The Archivist isn’t trying to hide, but he has found a so far unfamiliar book in one of the shelves, which of course has been holding his interest. Upon hearing his name, however, Jon sets the book back on the nearest shelf with a displeased noise and steps out between them, one hand crudely bandaged and pointedly kept underneath his other hand as he crosses his arms. No need to show Mr. Perfect more of his flaws. ]

Yes.

[ It’s pointed. Uninviting. Jon doesn’t wish this talk. ]

[Well, now he not only wishes for materia, but that he had grabbed the medical data point before leaving the hospital. There is, undoubtedly, regret and concern on his face as he sees the bandaged hand.]

I’m very sorry about your hand. That was my fault, wasn’t it? Because I was affectionate toward Stark.

And you came here to tell me that.

[ He wouldn’t let Reeve near his hand anyway. It’s healing. ]

I don’t need further details on your.... Success.

[And there’s the issue.]

Success? There is no success, Jon. I have been his company in the night before, but I mean nothing to him. And you can hardly fault me for having aspirations on a man that neither I nor him seemed to be aware of your romantic intentions toward.

[There he frowns, moving to lean against a nearby wall.]

Have you told him?

[ There’s a brief twitch in one of Jon’s eyes and one of the lights above flickers and bursts. ]

There is no need to point out that it’s my fault. I am aware. I- I was an idiot. An idiot to believe....

[ he cuts himself off with a frustrated shake of his head. ]

How could I be more than— CHRIST! If he has you, why would he possibly—??

[Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear. He wants to reach out, to touch the man. But he doesn't. It's wrong.]

There's where the confusion is, Jon. He doesn't have me. Nor I him. That isn't... what we are. It's not what he wants from me, though he could have it if he asked.

But I'll back off. I didn't know I was, well, getting in your way. I'm sorry.

Ah, how generous.

[ He snarls. ]

Then he will be mad at me for driving you away.

[ A snort. ]

I should be mad at him, you know? From the very first time we spoke, all he did was tease and embarrass and humiliate me! Made me break my camera and then come at me again and again to ask if I have fixed it yet. He decides I need help clearing out this place. Just showed up, making inappropriate comments. Teasing and mocking me and, and.... He made me play those carnival games. Blindfolded me and left me dizzy...

[ He pauses his tirade for a moment, his gaze dropping along with his irate tone. ]

...then left me. Showed back up as if nothing happened... And stayed after I got mad at him, when I felt weak and hungry... He stayed. Waited for me to recover. To eat.

When everything went dark and I couldn’t... See..... He came. Made sure I found my way. He came when I was falling apart. Held me. Steadied me. Took my mind away from everything...

[ Another pause. This one heavier. His eyes are anywhere but on Reeve now. ]

...then he died. He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t argue, tease or mock...

It hurt.

The first time we met, he quizzed me on my ability to seduce a stranger. In the end he...

[Ended up captivating Reeve. Perhaps they can be a club. People enamored with Tony Stark with no hope of holding his heart. But it seemed like... Jon needed him more. At last he moves forward, nervous that there might be violence if he approaches. But he has to try.]

It's alright to care for him. Sounds like he means a lot to you. I didn't know. If I had, I wouldn't have behaved like I had at the hospital. I'm sorry.

[ And Jon takes a single step backwards, feeling rather self-conscious after spilling all of that. ]

He’s.... An infuriating idiot.

[ And he left that infuriating idiot to suffer his pain.

Jon sighs. ]

...no. I’m the idiot...

[Nope, Reeve's taking another step forward. Please, let him do this.]

You're not an idiot. Caring about someone isn't idiotic. But not telling him isn't the best way to approach it if you want him to return the affection. You need to go back there, Jon. To take care of him at least. And to talk to him.

[ He doesn’t take another step back, instead turns Reeve’s words over in his mind until he settles with a resigning sigh. ]

...you are right.

[ Though He will still insist he’s an idiot. ]

[Oh, he's TOTALLY an idiot. They both are. Because Reeve gets that heartache and he's trying to help Jon's interests. Which means working against his own.]

Once in a while, I manage that. Not often, not in things that don't involve a very serious quanta of math, but every now and then.

[Finally he reaches out, a hand touching Jon's forearm, but on the side that isn't injured.]

He means a lot to you. I'm glad. He deserves to have someone looking out for him.

[ Jon's initial reaction is to want to pull the arm away, but instead he simply looks down at it. Just what... Is it with this man. ]

Why... Are you doing this?

[ Obviously he could have just stayed with Tony and Tony likely would have been happier with someone competent to... look out for him. Jon has already proven how unqualified he is for the task. The fact that they are having this conversation remains proof enough. ]

[He is a nice guy with too much guilt and pain and suffering in his conscious to think there is anything good out there for him. Nothing more complicated than that.]

Experience. I’m not the person anyone chooses when there are alternatives. Not in this field. Too serious, too married to the work, too negligent of myself.

[ Reeve, you could just as well have just described Jon. With the differences being that Jon lacks your immaculate beard, manners looks like a piece of roadkill and happens to be a fear devouring monster. ]

...I...

...I don’t know what to say.

[ And now part of him wants to apologize... ]

[Even when he forgets to wash his clothes, he always remembers to tend his beard. Thank you for noticing. But Reeve doesn’t know to say that. So instead the hand that alighted on Jon’s forearm patted the limb lightly, and he smiled at Jon. Soft and warm and kind. How could he do anything else.]

Say you will talk to him. That you’ll at least do that so you don’t have to wonder. And that you will take care of your hand properly. If I had any healing materia I would fix it right up, but I doubt a replicator could give me that back.

And get some sleep, even if it is only in a chair at our friend’s bedside, because I promise he will try to escape otherwise.

[ He wants to flinch away, yet doesn't. Instead, he looks down at his own, still wrapped up hand. He wouldn't require any healing if he had bothered enough to properly remove every glass splinter he had pushed into his palm. But he hadn't. Having opted instead to leave pieces of glass in his hand as punishment for his own foolishness. Which has yet been another foolish thing to do.

He lets out a heavy sigh, then nods. ]

Fine... fine. I will talk to him. And...

[ He gestures lightly with the wrapped-up hand. Sleep he can't promise. Instead, he glances up at the other man. ]

What about you?

What about me?

[The question is confused. Like Reeve can’t even begin to understand the question.]

What are you going to do?

[ He sort of expects there to be some sort of grudge towards him in the future. ]

Still be his friend. Talk to him. Work with him.

[Why would that change? That would be silly.]

Leave it to him to make any decisions he might choose to make. But I’m a grown man. I am more than equipped to handle a bit of heartache. I have experience with it.

Christ, I'm a grown man and you're making me feel like an unruly teenager.

[ Is that just the effect Reeve has on people? Is that his appeal? The experience? The patience? The understanding...?

Maybe he can't exactly... Well. Blame Tony. ]

[Yes, this is indeed part of the appeal. There is also part of him that appeals to those people who wish to take care of an idiot who doesn't sleep or eat regularly enough. That's why in the village not one but two young women had adopted him, making sure he did things other than work.

But for now he only kept smiling, absolutely patient.]

Forgive me for the presumption, but I've a feeling this is either the first time you've had an interest like this in someone before, or it's been a very long time since you have. It makes us all a touch unruly, opening our heart, or reopening it. It's a muscle, after all. When it hasn't been used in a certain way in a while, it tends to be a bit easier to strain.

I....

[ Yeah, he's looking away now, but the bandaged hand still shifts up to where that unruly muscle in question still refuses to bother him. ]

...I have been good at-... At avoiding. Getting attached.

[ Jon has spent years setting up those walls of distinctly rude behavior to keep people away. Walls that had started to crumble even before he was pulled to this planet. It's those cracks that may have made him vulnerable again and allowed Tony to fully tear down what has been about to shatter for some time. ]

It happens to the best of us, and the worst, and many people in between.

[His hand on Jon's arm squeezes lightly, the same sort of comforting gesture he would give Tony.]

And he seems to be the sort of person that inspires reaction. Which is why you should tell him. Because otherwise... Otherwise how do you live with the weight of it? Carrying it in your heart, with no hope of relief? That will eat at a man from my experience. Better to speak and earn nothing than to be silent and hurt more for it. And if you get rejected, then that's just a wound, and wounds heal in time. An unspoken feeling is an untreated sickness, it may never go. But a wound? Those can heal. And perhaps it will not be a wound.

[No would should have to carry the weight of such pain for long.]

Something tells me that even if you two see your relationship differently, he isn't the sort to deny a friendship and all it was before that point. And if he does? Well, we'll both just not talk to him for being rude.

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