InsaneJournal

He'd wandered for a while. Some solid, some not, not sure how to focus on anything that had happened today. Because none of it made sense except it all made too much sense. Because nothing would ever matter to his father more than his stupid reputation.

Davis wasn't entirely sure when he ended up at Ilana's. Maybe he should have texted. She might not even be home. He'd already been over just yesterday. But that didn't stop him from reaching up and actually knocking on the door.

The sound of someone at her door startled her, and Ilana nearly didn't answer. She'd seen the movies; only murderers or cops showed up unannounced, and she had no interest in meeting either. However, curiosity won out, and she stood to peer through the peephole. And quickly opened the door upon seeing Davis on the other end. "Hey!" She tried to sound bright, but it was hard to miss the confusion and concern in her voice. What's wrong? she wanted to ask, but she swallowed the question. "Miss me already?" she said instead, offering an unsteady (and fairly unconvincing) smile

He managed a half hearted tick of a smile, his shoulders just feeling heavy right now. Everything felt heavy right now, too much poured in at once. "Yeah. Sorry." He answered quietly.

Something was very wrong, and worry gnawed at her, but she knew better than to demand answers right away. "Don't apologize," she insisted forcefully, her attempts to lighten the mood only a moment ago forgotten. "You can come to me whenever, okay?" She fell silent as she searched his face, and she couldn't remember the last time she had seen him this worn down. "Come here." Impulsively, she stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around him. Whatever was going on, she was here to help him through it.

With the pressure of her arms around him, Davis felt himself almost fold against her. His arms wrapped tight around her, holding on for something he wasn't sure of. There were memories of moments like this, usually with his grandmother, very long ago when he was just as lost with nowhere to figure out a path through.

He didn't know what to do so he just held onto her in her doorway.

Ilana clung to him tightly, her face pressed against his chest, for as long as she dared and then for a moment longer. Even when she finally released him, she hovered close to him as if afraid he would collapse in on himself. “Let’s get inside,” she urged gently, taking his hand and taking a step backwards. “We’ve still got some whiskey left, and I think I may have some brand name peanut butter if you want a snack.”

His fingers tightened around hers instinctually when she took his hand. It was like his body didn't want to let go of that feeling of connection. But he followed without argument, nudging the door closed behind them with his foot once they'd crossed the threshold. "Brand name? How fancy?" He managed halfheartedly.

“Only the best for you,” she teased, but her smile was only marginally better than his. Her expression turned solemn again as she hesitated by her kitchen, reluctant to leave him while she went to scavenge for supplies. “What do you need?” she asked, tilting her face up to meet his gaze. “What can I do?”

What did he need? All Davis had been able to process was that he wanted to feel safe. And here was the only place he could think of, consciously or not. His shrug felt more like a puppet on strings than a human motion. "Just. One of those days where nothing makes sense anymore. Got anything for that?"

If only she did. Her heart ached for him, but while she didn’t know what had caused this, she knew it wasn’t something a sandwich and a shot could fix. It wasn't something they could cover up with bullshit and quips. “Do you want to lie down?” she suggested instead.

His shoulders hunched forward. He managed to pull on the weakest of sly smiles. "You up for being the big spoon?"

A choked laugh escaped her throat. “I’m always up for that. It’s the natural order of things.” She tugged his hand gently to pull him towards her bedroom.

It seemed he was hopeless to follow, but it was all right. Because Ilana never pushed him more than he could go. The words didn't even fully seem to exist. Everything seemed to just be a fog of anger, resentment, grief, love, and frustration. And all of it settled into the bone deep tiredness.

Maybe being here instead of drunk into oblivion or some other way of dampening everything was progress. He'd had to think he'd developed a sense of self preservation.

Davis had the presence of mind to toe off his shoes. Beyond that he settled into her bed more as a collapse than actually climbing in.

Ilana was right behind him, and she didn’t hesitate before sliding towards him, pressing herself flush against him, and wrapping her arms around his middle. She buried her face into the crook of his neck, and while she desperately wanted to ask what had happened, she trusted he would talk when he was ready. The important thing right now was to hold him and remind him that he wasn't alone, that she was here for him always, unconditionally, no questions asked.

His hands found her arms and held on, gentle but a constant reminder of their pressure as he closed his eyes. Everything just felt so big and yet so incredibly and utterly pointless. None of this was supposed to matter to him anymore. Captain Regulator was one of the boogiemen of his life and yet he couldn't help the crushing ache that was the hope of a small boy that maybe, just maybe, his father cared about something else too. Someone else. Anything. Anyone.

The silence hung for a long time. Davis wasn't sure how long. The actual passage of time didn't seem to fully matter right now, warm and safe and trying to keep his mind from buzzing frantic and angry until it became a low, constant hum of anxiety.

"I don't know what to do." He finally whispered out into the room, his voice sounding almost achey as if he hadn't spoken. Or maybe spoken too much.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked softly. She hadn’t expected him to say anything just yet. Theirs was a friendship based on actions, not words. There was a deep intimacy and trust between them, but they were not the type to sit and dissect their feelings in depth. She had assumed that he would fall into an uneasy sleep or that, eventually, she would have to push him gently to open up to prevent whatever this was from eating him up inside. But if he was ready to talk now, she would listen. "What happened?"

He couldn't talk about it. That was part of the problem. It wasn't his decision to make, as his father had exceptionally clear. Or it was. It could be, that was one of the tipping points of this whole thing.

A long sigh escaped as he relaxed back against her. "Some fucked up shit with Dad. To no one's surprise."

“Okay,” she exhaled. That made sense. Nothing could get under Davis’s skin like his parents, but this was still worse than she had ever seen him before. “Did you fight?" A beat of silence. "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to, but I'm here if you do," she reassured him.

"I guess you could call it a fight?" His voice almost cracked in a weak, bitter laugh. He wasn't sure how to even quantify what was going on. "You ever feel like you're the responsible one in the room so you need to immediately fuck everything up?"

"Yeah," Ilana said quietly. Her arms tightened around him. "I do know that feeling." She was less self-destructive than Davis, but that was something she nevertheless understood. "I still have trouble sometimes not giving into that need." She had grown up believing she was a fuck-up; that was a hard mentality to shake.

"If you want to give into that, I'm primed for fucking up right now." It was half joke, half proposition, but Davis didn't move. He just held onto her because he had gone here instead of finding some stranger and seeing what destruction he could wreck. It was something.

She chuckled, but there was no real humor there. “Is that what you want?” She knew him. Davis had no difficulty finding trouble, and their friendship was largely formed due to a shared willingness to make what they knew were terrible, potentially destructive decisions. They had spent years enabling and egging each other on, years running from healthy coping mechanisms and turning to sex or alcohol or fights instead. She had followed him down many a rabbit hole, and she knew she would do it again without hesitation. But she didn't think that was why he had sought her out now.

Another burst of something almost like a laugh. It could maybe be a laugh. He wished it was all that easy, just running off to some other adventure or fuck up. And the itch was there, crawling up his spine. It was too much responsibility. He never did well with that. “I don’t know what I want. I never do.”

Ilana fell silent, unsure of how to respond to that. She didn't have a magic fix or the right words to make this better, as much as she wished she did. So, she shifted to lift her head, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek before she settled back down. "Let's just lie here, then. For now."

Davis relaxed back against her, his hand finding hers against his chest and giving it a squeeze. "Yeah. For now. That sounds good."