I've known better days... (better_days) wrote in haunted_roads, @ 2008-04-06 15:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | bastian |
Week Five: Tuesday
When: Late Night
Where: Old Town Towers
Who: Bastian and John – Narrative
One week. One week since he'd walked through that front door and back into their lives. One week of avoiding and lame excuses that he knew were wearing thin. One week of constantly debating when he should tell them..and how to tell them. One week of sneaking out late at night after helping at the bar to feed and try to find connections and information without pushing the wrong people. One week....and Bastian was exhausted by it. He wasn't the sort of man that lied to his family. He was always upfront, before it felt like they could handle anything together. But there were limits to everything and Bastian knew that telling them this...would push it.
Through the day he'd hid away in the bedroom, feigning sleep through those bright hours. Yet never was he, always was he awake, laying there, ensuring that those times Maggie came in she didn't go for the blinds or manage to let any light in. The same words spoken to Sophie long ago had been spoken to her...sensitivity to that light after so long in the dark. But the more he said it, the more that questioning showed in the eyes. Can't get used to it again if you don't try right? There was no getting used to it again.
The moment the light was gone there was relief to a degree...and at the same time only mounting frustration. He was still young, no matter the years that had passed that hunger still pulled at the mind all too often. Bastian ignored it as best he could....but it distracted him. It made his temper shorter, it made the body tense and strain show all too clearly to his features. He was certain that they thought him sick but given what he'd been through it wouldn't be any surprise would it? If anything it gave him another cover to hide behind for awhile.
Through the hours he moved. Picking at food cooked for dinner, spending time with them as much as he could. But tonight he'd escaped to his fathers for awhile. Sometimes...he just needed the breather. That moment to get away from that feeling of hiding from them in plain sight. He had...wanted to come back and have everything be the same. But it wasn't.....he wasn't.
“Looks like you got the weight of the world sitting right on your shoulders boy…” John spoke, patting Bastian on the back before taking a seat down next to him. A cigarette was offered over and Bastian took it with a nod of thanks. The old man always had some around even if he didn’t smoke anymore. Maybe preparation for when Bastian came home…maybe just as a reminder. Whatever the case Bastian wasn’t going to complain. “Got a drink to go with that cigarette?” he questioned, glancing over at the old man who just smirked and got up to his feet. “Sure thing kid.”
A moment later a glass of whiskey was placed down on the table in front of Bastian and his father took seat again, just waiting. He knew Bastian well enough to know when he had something he needed to get off his chest. It was just a waiting game at that point, letting Bastian try to get his thoughts together enough to say something. To find that…beginning point to start it all at.
“Have you ever noticed anything…strange around here? Stuff you couldn’t really explain?” Bastian questioned finally, lighting up the cigarette and taking a long drag from it. “What you mean boy? There are strange people all over the place; I do run a bar you know.” Bastian nodded his head slightly, exhaling out that smoke. “Yeah…I know.” But that wasn’t the sort of strange he was talking about. “I mean beyond that sort of strange though.” John looked at him a bit oddly and Bastian shook his head. He knew this wasn’t going how he wanted it to. He wasn’t sure if any attempt to bring this up would though.
He debated just telling them all at once. But maybe if he convinced one of them before hand…it would be easier to tell the others. Telling his father…he didn’t know if it would be easier then telling Maggie and Sophie but it was a place to start. Maybe if he could accept it he’d be able to look the other two in the eyes as he told them. Maybe then he’d be able to look at his own fucking reflection again.
Bastian was silent for a moment; downing the contents of the glass and setting it roughly back down. “If I told you something do you promise to hear me out, hear it all, before saying anything?” that’s when John knew it was something painfully serious. “Of course boy, you can tell me anything.”
“Alright…” here went nothing; time to test the limits of that you can tell me anything…