InsaneJournal

Despite offering at a regular cadence, it was rare for Riley to take Jace up on his offer to just hang out. His brother was something of a social butterfly, and while Jace had a social life - Friday drinks with colleagues that he absolutely wasn't avoiding, the occasional drive with Talia to vent their frustrations about whatever had set them off that day, hanging out with Sadie or Gabe - he still had a reasonable amount of free time to unwind.

Riley, he was relatively sure, structured his days and weeks to have the least amount of downtime possible. And it worried him, sure, but much like he often assured Clark that he was an adult, Riley was also an adult.

Didn't make him worry less, but stayed off to the side, reminded his brother that if he ever needed an ear or a shoulder, he was there, and that was it.

So when he opened the door, Todd perched on the top of his head, he couldn't hide the surprise or delight to find Riley there, looking somewhat sheepish. He tamped down the urge to pry with his powers to see if he could glean anything about the troubled look on his face, and instead stepped to the side to let him in. "Want me to order tacos?"

When Mexican cuisine had become one of Riley's main food groups, Riley couldn't say, but as he wasn't sick of it yet until the next cuisine obsession, he cleared his throat and nodded. "With extra chips and salsa," he added, then slid past.

He was aware of what had possessed him to get in the car and drive to his brother's place, though he found that once in the apartment, he didn't want to talk about any of it. All he wanted was a distraction from his thoughts, rarely a hard thing to accomplish in Jason's presence.

He frowned. "Where's Todd?"

Jason pointed at the top of his head. "He likes to burrow in my hair," he said by way of explanation as he pulled out his phone to order food. Once that was done, he plucked Todd from his hair and plopped him on his brother's shoulder, soon to be scooped into Riley's hands because he didn't especially trust the little guy not to fall to his death from there.

"How's the hamster life been?" Riley also didn't trust Todd not to bite him — again; he'd already succeeded once — and awkwardly cradled the rodent in his palms.

"His ball is on the coffee table," Jason laughed. "And it's been nice. Having someone else in the apartment is nice." He'd even almost gotten used to the strange squeaking noises that Todd made when everything was quiet.

He hadn't realized how lonely the apartment felt, which was ridiculous on its face. Nothing in that respect had changed.

"I have vegetables in the house now," he added proudly. "Todd really seems like carrots."

"That's more than I can say for you," his brother said on the way to the coffee table. Although anxious of being nipped at, he did give the hamster he was holding like a baby bird a soft squeeze and thumb stroke. "Are you online ordering vegetables, or stealing them from the neighbors?"

"I do know how to go grocery shopping, Ri," Jason pointed out with an eye roll and moved around his brother, pausing to ruffle his hair, and headed into the kitchen for some aforementioned carrots and water. "Want anything to drink? I have water, beer, and Sprite," he called out, grabbing a handful of baby carrots out of the fridge.

The obvious answer leapt to mind, but Riley didn't let it pass his lips, tonight. "Sprite," he answered back while setting Todd up in his little ball. How a hamster didn't get claustrophobic in there was a mystery, and he set the sphere down, desperately shoving away the immediate urge to dribble it around like a soccer ball.

Jace returned with the Sprite, carrots, and water. He handed Riley his drink, caught Todd's ball to pop a carrot stick in there (which immediately was broken down and stuffed into his tiny, adorable cheeks), and sat down.

"Just need to get away?" he finally asked.

The cold of the aluminum can was relished, squeezed tight. "Yeah," Riley admitted, quietly. "Easy to get stuck in your head when you're alone."

His older brother nodded sympathetically — he knew that feeling all too well. It had been one of the reasons he'd considered getting a pet in the first place, and while Todd wasn't the same as a person who could hold a conversation, just the reassurance of something else around, of not being alone, was sometimes enough to pull him out of his own head.

"Getting stuck in your head isn't always a good thing," he agreed softly. "Do you want to talk about it? I'm always happy to listen, Ri. Or would you rather have a distraction?"

The youngest Cooper tucked himself into the corner of the couch and thought on that. He didn't suppose his brother would have any experience with his specific conundrum, and especially didn't with his lifestyle. They were at opposite ends on that, as opposite as they were on the couch. Jace dated, he didn't. He slept with everyone and anyone, Jace wasn't like that. The differences between them didn't stop there, but if he let his mind go to that place, it wouldn't come back. But they were, different.

"I might've…" Riley, already annoyed with himself, started over. "It's coming to my attention that I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I think I do, and then it turns out I'm just going through the motions and not actually thinking of the consequences."

Jace frowned, shifting on the couch so that his back pressed into the corner and he could watch Riley. It felt like there was something to it, something under the frustration his brother was feeling, but he wasn't sure if he was meant to understand it. While Clark and Ri were patching up their relationship, Jace and Riley had always been closer — closer in age, similar in how they reacted when they felt closed in upon. Talking with Riley about relationships and the men he found attractive had always been easier than talking to Clark, and Riley had never shied away from providing his own opinions on attractive people.

But while they were closer, there was still distance, and at times like these, Jason had to come to terms with the knowledge that he didn't know how to bridge the gap, not really.

"In what way?"

Riley rubbed at the corner of an eye. "I'm… not good at slowing down. I just, sorta throw myself at anything that I think will be fun at the time, and it usually is at first, but I feel like I'm... speeding through life and not actually enjoying anything when I get home at the end of the day. And I don't know how to be alone anymore, because everything is… heavy when I am, so I fill up my time with a swinging door of people so that I don't have to be, because sex makes it not hurt, and so I don't have to think."

He tucked a leg under himself. "I don't know what happens when I slow down. I don't know how to not self-sabotage. All I'm doing is… redressing the same wound and not letting it heal." Then rubbed his eye again. "Sorry, this sounds fucking stupid."

"It's not stupid," his brother said with a frown. "It sounds extremely exhausting and emotionally draining." And it did; in some ways, it reminded him of his first year in New York - throwing himself into anything and everything on an attempt to experience life, but all he remembered was Davis and exhaustion.

And they didn't talk much about Riley's powers, but negative emotions thrived in those circumstances. And if he knew nothing else about his brother's power, he knew he was a magnet for unhappy emotions.

"There's one way to figure out what happens when you slow down, and that's to slow down," Jace pointed out gently. "Which isn't great advice, I know, but patching yourself up just to have the same wound reopen… Ri. That sounds awful. I'm sorry you're feeling like that."

It took two deep breaths to re-balance, but Riley set the painfully cold soda down before he opened his mouth again. "It's not like this is a new feeling. Just that it's worse now. If I knew how to slow down, I'd try, and probably psychoanalyze myself every step of the way." He sagged into the cushions. "I guess I'm just wondering if it's easier to wait to go up in flames."

Jason considered the question. "I don't think so. If it all goes up in flames, you can't predict what will still be standing after, except me and Clark." Because no matter what Riley could do, his brothers would still be there. "Sometimes it's easier to take it step by step? How much time do you have to yourself?"

"Not much," he mumbled. "It's on purpose."

"Okay, well, how engaged are you with the people you spend time with?" Jason asked, changing tactics. "You could try having downtime with someone. Like when you're here, we don't have to do or talk about anything. You can be alone with someone else, so that if it gets to be too much, you just have to say something." His tone was quiet. "I do that. Sometimes I just go over to Clark's and be by myself. Or with Talia."

Whatever it was emanating off his brother had Riley glancing up. He wondered what his brothers did or didn't do when they were at Clark's, what it was like for the two of them. What Jace had to be feeling to want to not feel anything else.

He angled his body inward on the couch. "Lottie and I don't always do much. It's easy to do nothing with her. Bell usually keeps me busy." Everyone else had another level of distracting, but it was with those two he was at his most peaceful during downtime. "I try not to bother Theo, but," he traced a nail over the curve of a knee, "he'd come over if I asked."

As for Clark — Riley didn't know how to do nothing with him yet. Clark was his oldest brother, someone he loved and understood without needing to be reminded that he'd always be there, but the anxiety between them when it was them alone was practically palpable. There'd be a day when he could find refuge at Clark's, but it required rebuilding what they'd let fall to ruin, and they'd only just dusted off all the cobwebs. They had time. They'd make it, now.

"I'm glad you have people like that, Ri," Jace told him, leaning forward to put a hand on his brother's shoulder, giving it what he hoped would be a comforting squeeze. "And I doubt Theo would think it's a bother. Needing people is normal, and having people you can count on, who make you feel safe, is good." He shifted so he could slide off the couch, on to the floor next to Riley.

Todd rolled up to him, the ball bumping against Jace's shoe. He turned the hamster around and Todd shot off in the opposite direction.

"What happens when you're by yourself for too long?" he asked, curious.

Riley could hear the light bubbling from the Sprite can as clear as day thanks to his powers, and focused on that for a few ticks of the clock. "I think too much, or not at all. And it's like the second I get through the door, I lose all drive for… anything. So I let everything come down, but if the pressure's too much or if my powers were triggered during the day, I can't sleep. When I do sleep, it's nightmares, and if they're not nightmares, they're just… unsettling. And I hate it," he was quiet. "And myself."

"Ri…" Jason scooted closer, wrapping his younger brother up in a hug. "I'm sorry. That sounds horrible." And it did — but what made it worse was that he'd had no idea, which meant his brother had been carrying it himself. He could only hope he'd been sharing the load with someone else, or several other someone elses, but Riley had always been stubborn. "I don't know if it helps, but I don't hate you. I think you're pretty great."

Then, quietly: "Have you talked to Dr Fremont about this?"

"She knows," came the mumble into Jason's shoulder. "She gave me medication for the insomnia, but I don't usually take it."

Jason frowned, but didn't say anything; he knew medication was tricky from personal experience, and he had no idea how it made Riley feel, or even if it would be enough to block out whatever side effects he experienced from his powers. But something the younger man had said came back to him. "Can you sleep if you have someone else with you? Does that make some of it better?"

The nod, when it came, was barely there. "I usually go to Lottie when it's bad enough," Riley admitted, quiet still.

"You can come here, too, if you want," Jason offered, pulling away slightly to look at Riley. "You have a key, so even if I'm already asleep, you can still come over. Just don't steal my blankets." He gave him a small, lopsided smile.

The younger of them snorted, unable to help himself. "I'm a blanket stealer. You just haven't accepted it yet."

Jason rolled his eyes. "Then I'll keep a spare blanket on the bench you can take, instead." The implication was clear: if you need to be here, you're welcome here.

It was heard. And suddenly too exhausted to say any more heavy words in this period allotted for vulnerability with the people he loved, Riley crept back into the embrace to mumble a Thanks, Jace into the crook of his brother's neck and shoulder.

"Anytime," Jace murmured back.