victor reyes. (strongarms) wrote in invol_rpg, @ 2012-12-02 02:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! log, daisy hughes, vic reyes |
WHO: Daisy Hughes & Victor Reyes.
WHAT: After way too many drinks, Vic heads outside for some fresh air. Daisy follows him and a discussion about Hunter and their relationships with him ensues.
WHEN: Late tonight, December 1st.
WHERE: Outside of Pub Night.
WARNINGS: Woe and despair.
STATUS: Complete log.
Victor Reyes had once prided himself on the amount of drinks he could pound back without tipping over from “comfortably drunk” to “completely wasted.” But after months of IVI’s rationing -- 3 drinks, one night per week -- his tolerance was no longer anything to brag about. And so with six drink tickets at his disposal, it hadn’t taken him very long to reach completely wasted, especially as he insisted on drinking them one after another. It had started off well. In fact, it appeared that Vic had pulled himself out of the depression he’d settled into after the George Cooper situation -- broad grins, flirting with the girls, booming laughter with the guys. His usual behavior. But as the night went on, his mood dropped back down and nosedived. His confrontation with Hunter and all that had entailed hit him like a blow to the face, leaving him reeling and vulnerable. And he was very, very drunk. Pub night was no longer fun, it was suffocating. He needed to be away from everyone -- the girls he had flirted with, the guys he had laughed with. These people didn’t understand what was going on. Nausea gripped him and he turned at once for the exit, roughly pushing past people (some who were trying to get his attention) so he could get outdoors. He didn’t think the dry Australian air would do him much good, but it was better than this. Once he staggered outside, he immediately went for the wall. He stumbled back into it and slumped down, blinking a few times to make sure the ground around him wasn’t really shaking. "Vic?" The voice came from the doorway, light spilling out into the dark night. Daisy let the door close behind her as she took a step outside. She'd seen Vic leave; it hadn't been a difficult thing to notice from where she was standing, attempting to sip what remained of her drink. She'd come to pub night in the attempts of feigning normalcy, and because her friends had urged her out. Carter had stayed in and she'd made a promise to go to his room after the night's festivities (if you could call them that) were over -- and had been about to do just that when Vic went staggering for the door. "Are you okay?" She asked tentatively, taking a few steps closer. He glanced over at the sound of his name, pausing for a moment to register that it was Daisy. Vic usually enjoyed seeing those long legs and that sheet of blonde hair, but the world was spinning right now and he was tempted to tell her to go away. He was fine. He didn’t need anyone right now -- except maybe Hunter, but Hunter didn’t need him. But he didn’t have the energy to put his guard up tonight. Maybe he would’ve told her he was fine if he’d had a few less shots, but now -- now, he had no qualms about being open and forthcoming with her. Shaking his head ‘no,’ he motioned for her to come over. “Nah. I’ve fucked things up and I don’t know if I can fix him.” There was a beat, then: “It. Both. This thing with Hunter.” She approached him with a slight hesitation, more cautiously than she might have done a month ago. Everything seemed scarier to Daisy now, especially here, under the dark Outback sky. She wasn't afraid of Vic, although she had never been completely sure of where she stood in his eyes, whether she was simply written off as a friend of Hunter's, or whether he considered her to be a friend of his own, too. But she was afraid of his words, of how she might respond to them. For once in her life, the people Daisy cared about were having problems and she didn't have the slightest clue as to how to help fix them. It was a horrible feeling. "What do you mean?" She asked, putting a light hand on his shoulder. "Vic, what's going on with Hunter, it's -- that's not your fault." He jerked his head no again. “No, no, I know. I think I made things worse.” Vic played over the night’s earlier events in his mind, and a horrible sensation took hold of him when he remembered the fear in Hunter’s eyes. The panicked expression. Never before had Hunter ever looked afraid of him, despite knowing full aware of what he was capable of. He’d seen it for himself. But now he was just another threat to him. “We were talking earlier,” he started, trying and failing to reign in his emotions. “He gave me his drink tickets, I was trying to -- I grabbed him and he freaked out. It wasn’t because of my strength or anything, it didn’t hurt him.” Vic was used to people being afraid of him when they found out he could do, but never a friend. Never Hunter. "Oh." Daisy thought back to the way Hunter had flinched at her touch, their first day back in training. Remembering that, she could picture it in her mind's eye -- Vic desperately reaching out, Hunter recoiling in response. It was terrible. "I think he's just scared," she offered, "not of you, but of like... I don't know, maybe he's scared of being wrong? Like, he's decided that we're not real, and you know how stubborn he is. So maybe being near you makes him scared that he's wrong." It sounded stupid, Daisy knew -- why should Hunter be scared of the truth? Shouldn't he want this to be the real world; a place where people loved him and cared about him rather than an awful nightmare concocted by a sociopath? But it was the only solution she could find. Hunter had made up his mind about the truth, and the idea that he might be wrong (that he might be wrong again, she reminded herself, knowing that he must have already been through it once, in the dream) was too much for him to accept. Vic ran a hand through his hair, slowly digesting her words. He understood the logic behind what she was saying. It would be an easy, neat explanation for Hunter’s reaction. He wanted to think that it was true, that it was just about a fear of being wrong, but he also knew about Hunter and physical confrontations. Before he’d met Vic, he had a penchant for winding up in fist fights. Small, skinny, with big hair and big glasses, Hunter had spent his early teen years as an open target. Add an asshole for a father into the mix and -- no, Daisy was wrong. Hunter had been scared of being physically hurt. But he didn’t want to worry Daisy. He knew how badly this was affecting her, how much she wanted to fix things too. He appreciated her -- as his friend and as Hunter’s friend. There weren’t very many people that had that title. “You’re really good for him,” he said at last, leaning his head against the brick of the warehouse. “He’s never -- I don’t know. When everything is back to normal I’m going to give him hell for making you worry so much.” "Me?" Daisy let out a breath of disbelief. She took a step closer to Vic, aligning herself on the wall next to him. "Vic, I..." she closed her mouth, uncertain of what she wanted to say. That no matter how great her pain might be, that she knew Vic's must be worse? That it had to be killing Hunter to distance himself from the person he was so, so in love with? No, she couldn't say that -- she would never say that, no matter how many drink tickets she might be given. "I'm just some girl," she said finally. "I know he cares about me, and I know how I feel about him, but I'm not -- you're his entire world. I don't know if I'll like, ever even have someone in my life that cares about me as much as y'all care about each other. He's gonna get better, Vic." Daisy nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her own ear and noticed that her hand was trembling slightly, something that seemed to happen lately more often than not, any time she got worked up about something. "He has to get better." “Some girl?” Vic repeated, his tone incredulous. In the world of Hunter MacKenna, Daisy was about as far from being just “some girl” as one could possibly be. In all their years of friendship, Vic had never known Hunter to get so close to another person, especially not a girl like Daisy. She had managed what many had tried and failed to do -- break past Hunter’s practically impenetrable walls and become someone incredibly important to him. Some girl -- he wasn’t going to let that go. “Daisy, that’s crazy. No one’s ever been able to get through to him like you have. I don’t know what things would have been like here for him if he hadn’t met you.” They cared about each other a great deal, that was true, but Vic didn’t think Hunter would have stopped resisting things so much without her. Sighing, he let his hands drop down to the dirt. He was still too drunk, but things didn’t feel quite as unsteady as they had before. “He’s going to get better,” he added, echoing her again. “He is. I just hope it’s soon.” Because he honestly wasn’t sure he could take much more of this. "Me too." Daisy leaned her head to the side. She was close enough to Vic that the top of her head found a place resting against his shoulder. She'd taken in Vic's words and heard them, although her mind found a way to fill in missing words -- that things might not have been fine, had she not been there, but they likely would have. It wasn't normally like Daisy to have such a lapse in self-confidence, but lately she found herself questioning everything, especially when it came to any value she might add to a given situation. She wasn't sure, anymore, whether she was really much help to anyone. Lately she only seemed to be leaning on people. "I'm sorry," she said softly, letting the side of her head rest a little heavier against his shoulder. "About whatever happened tonight." The complete fucking wreck that had been his conversation with Hunter still hung over Vic like a dark cloud. But the guilt was beginning to abate, and reason was beginning to shine through the thick fog the alcohol had draped over his mind. Getting out in the air had helped, yes, but Vic thought -- knew, really -- that the only reason he was feeling any better at all was because of Daisy. He almost smiled when he felt her head on his shoulder, and he almost extended one dusty open palm to her, in case she wanted to hold his hand. He hoped he remembered to thank her for this later -- maybe do something to try and cheer her up. For the time being, he simply closed his eyes and thought of how nice it would be if Hunter was there with them. “Yeah. Me too.” |