Elliot Graymalkin has incredibly bad timing (stepfordsmiler) wrote in superbabies, @ 2013-04-01 17:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | elliot graymalkin, rick richards |
Log; Shade and Backpack.
Who: Elliot Graymalkin and Rick Richards
When: Sunday March 31st, Evening.
Where: Rick and Vance’s Room.
What: Making a schedule, talking through things, getting better.
Status: Log; Complete
Some people preferred playing things by ear, but Elliot Graymalkin was not one of these people. He preferred order, structure, rules, and after the glorious and spectacular failure of his recent attempt at playing things by ear, he was quite certain the entire thought was repugnant and utterly irredeemable. And so, his first act upon dragging himself out of bed with enough willpower to even think about work, was to draw up a schedule. His classes were fixed points, as were his rehearsals for the musical, and whatever meetings he had to attend. He couldn’t adjust that, but everything else was flexible, and with how his work had slowly but surely piled up during his languishing, Elliot needed that flexibility. He needed to find a way to catch up. “I can probably eat dinner in twenty minutes, right?” He asked, looking up from his notebook to Rick, unsure, unsteady. The other boy had been a godsend, since this had all fallen apart, and even with his lingering guilt, Elliot was glad to have him around. When he’d been ready to give up, Rick had been there to keep him going. He wasn’t sure what he’d have done without him. “I just think... if I grab something fast, I can eat between my last class and rehearsals, and that way I can go straight from rehearsals to the library, to start working...” He shifted at the foot of Rick’s bed, biting his lip. Rick didn’t approve of the work he did, of how much he did, of the fact that he still hadn’t dropped any classes. But this would work. It was a compromise. The whole point was to find a way to get it all done without the pills, without driving himself crazy, or hurthing them both -- again. “An hour for meals,” Rick said flatly. He was trying to be understanding about all of this, but if Elliot wasn’t going to take care of himself properly, Rick would have to play the bad cop and do it for him. An hour would give him enough time to eat without making himself sick and just stop for a few minutes. “Half an hour if it’s something small but you have to have more instances in that case.” “An hour?” Elliot sighed. An hour would cut into his study time, would waste time. He couldn’t dedicate an entire hour to something as insignificant as eating. Still. Rick’s voice made it clear he wasn’t in any mood to argue, and arguing took too much energy. Compromise, he reminded himself. “Okay.” He said softly. “An hour. But if I finish early, I can start doing work.” “Not if you eat too quickly in order to finish early,” Rick argued. “You can do reading while you eat, but not anything for math or science. Give your brain a bit of time to cool off now and then.” “Okay,” Elliot agreed. That was fair, and certainly doable. “Just leaves sleep to figure out, then.” He nodded to himself, scratching out twenty minutes for dinner in his notebook and replacing it with one hour. He didn’t even mind the thought of cooling off. Not anymore. “I... should probably schedule sleep,” he mumbled, more to himself than Rick. “To make sure I get enough...” “How much are you figuring?” Rick asked. The answer would tell him more than just telling Elliot a reasonable number, he thought, even as guilt twisted in his stomach for behaving this way. He shouldn’t be dictating to Elliot what he could do and when. But he didn’t know how else to help. Elliot looked up again, shrugged. ‘Enough’ sleep wasn’t a concept he ever seemed to grasp, he didn’t quite know what would work, now. “Four hours.” He offered eventually, his voice firm. “Two R-E-M cycles. It should be fine. And give me time to do more work at night.” “Six.” Two R-E-M cycles might seem like enough to Elliot, but Rick knew sleep wasn’t that easy. Four hours wasn’t something most people could do, especially not people with Elliot’s workload, as much as Rick had been trying to get him to cut down. “I’d like it if you tried for more, but six is the absolute minimum.” “Rick, I can’t do that,” Elliot said softly, shaking his head. “That’s two more hours a night that I could spend studying. I need that time to catch up, I can’t just spend it sleeping. Four hours will be fine. I won’t let it get to any less than that, I promise.” “Do you know how much I sleep, E?” Rick asked bluntly. “Eight hours, most nights, and that’s not counting the nightmares. You can’t study efficiently if you’re tired. Four hours isn’t enough. Six isn’t really enough, but it’ll do for now.” Elliot bit his lip at Rick’s question, looking away. He was right. He knew he was right. That didn’t make it any easier to stomach, however. “All right,” he said softly. “Six. Just six. No more, though.” “You know I’m not doing this to... to punish you or something,” Rick said quietly. “You do know that, right? That I’m just trying to help?” “I know,” Elliot said as he forced a smile and wrote down Sleep -- six hours maximum in the notebook. “I know, and you are helping. I’m just...” He swallowed and shook his head. “I have so much to do. And there just isn’t enough time and. I still want them. But I know I shouldn’t. And I don’t. But.” Elliot sighed and shook his head again. “It’s stupid. I’m stupid.” “We should go over your classes,” Rick said after a moment. The drugs were safely away in hammerspace, the bottle duct-taped closed and inaccessible to anyone but Rick. “Work out what you want to study in college and what classes you need for that and then work out which ones can be let go. You can’t keep doing so many. But you’re not stupid, E. You put too much on yourself and you don’t know how to ask for help, but you’re not stupid.” Elliot all but winced, closing his eyes tight and shaking his head. “No. We talked about that I can’t just give them up. I made commitments,” he said quickly. “I can’t let them down. I can’t...” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Rick was trying to help, was probably right, but he couldn’t bring himself to go through with it. “The schedule. With. With that, I should be able to get it all done. That’s the whole point of it.” “Elliot,” Rick said, very softly. “How many classes are you in right now?” Sixteen. Elliot looked down at his notebook, feigning nonchalance. “Does Home Ec. count? It’s more of a hobby...” “How many classes, Elliot?” Rick hated this. It felt all wrong, being this hard with someone he was supposed to love. It felt like Reed. But letting Elliot get out of control again would be so much worse. “Sixteen.” Elliot whispered. He closed his eyes. “I make it work, though. And the languages all http://stilesmissedderek.tumblr.com/pos “They’re not hobbies. Mr St Croix doesn’t assign much homework, but you’re still doing ten more classes than most people, and twice as many as the suggested maximum,” Rick pointed out. “The languages won’t be required for college unless you want to be a translator. You don’t need all the math classes or all the sciences unless you want to go into a STEM course. Your courseload is insane, E, and you can make all the schedules you like, but until you pare it down you’re not going to get better.” Get better. Elliot swallowed. Better meant no more pills, no more hurting Rick. Better was good. He needed to be better. “Languages look good on applications, though,” he argued weakly. “I... I don’t need math or science, no, but... it shows I’m well rounded.” He swallowed. “I just don’t want to disappoint anyone, Rick...” “What’s going to disappoint them more?” Rick whispered. “You doing ten classes instead of sixteen or you giving yourself a heart attack because you won’t acknowledge your own limitations? Six classes. We can find six that you can drop without looking bad.” “How about four?” Elliot replied, ignoring the first question. It was too much to think about. “I can handle twelve. It...” He sighed. No. Rick clearly didn’t even want him doing ten, probably. Twelve was just going to lead to an argument. “I... I can do ten. I have no idea what I’ll get rid of, but... okay. I can.” “Keep one of the languages,” Rick said. “Maybe two, depending on what else we figure out. US History, History of Metahumans and Mutants, Politics and Ethics, Religious Education, and Sociology - pick one or two to keep. You don’t need all this, E, not even to look good on a transcript.” “What if I like taking them?” Elliot asked. “I like all of those classes, like the material. I want to take them. It’s not all for the transcripts...” “You need to make a decision somewhere, Elliot, because right now, looking at your schedule, either you’re going to have to learn how to not need to eat or sleep or we’re not going to be seeing much of each other,” Rick pointed out, looking away from Elliot as he felt tears forming. He couldn’t even do this, it looked like. “No, Rick, don’t...” Elliot whispered, shifting on the bed and crawling over to the other boy. “No I... I’ll figure it out. I just need time to think. It’s all a lot at once and...” He smiled softly, reaching up to pat Rick’s shoulder and lifting up his notebook so Rick could look. “I scheduled you in. Every night, right before bed, so we can spend the night together. See?” “Why am I more important than you?” Rick whispered. “Why can’t you care as much about you as that? If you can take time away from studying to see me, why can’t you take time away to make sure you make it to college?” “Rick...” Elliot whispered. “I don’t... I’m not going to... I’m going to make it to college. I’m going to be okay. You help me be okay. I just...” He swallowed. “History of Mutants and Metahumans, and Politics and Ethics. Those two. I don’t need the others.” “That’s three,” Rick said, still not looking up, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “Three more.” “ASL,” Elliot whispered, shifting closer to Rick, nuzzling against his shoulder so he didn’t have to meet his gaze. It was hard enough to pick classes to cut, seeing that look in Rick’s eyes hurt too much to bear. “And Italian. I... I’ll pick another one later. Just... just let me think it over.” “Okay,” Rick said softly. “Five is okay for now. You can have eleven. Just... just promise me that if you start getting overwhelmed, you’ll come talk to me and let me help you figure out what to do.” “I promise,” Elliot whispered. “I promise. I just... I don’t want to disappoint them. I can’t disappoint you.” “You won’t,” Rick said. “Not me, not them. As long as you’re trying to get better, you won’t disappoint me, I promise.” “I love you,” Elliot sighed, relaxing a bit and shifting away to meet Rick’s eye. “And if that’s not enough time set aside for you, I can... I can find a way to put more. I want to be with you...” “Only if it doesn’t take away from eating or sleeping,” Rick said firmly. “I love you, E, but I need you to look after yourself first.” “Well, we can always eat and sleep together...” Elliot countered, smiling a bit. “That might be good for both of us. You can make sure I don’t break the rules about doing work while eating.” “Eating, definitely, but sleeping might be difficult,” Rick admitted. “I don’t want to sleep in your room, and I don’t know how comfortable Vance would be with you being here all night. I can ask, though.” Elliot nodded. “All right,” he said softly. “If not... Jack said there was an attic. With a bed up there. He showed me where the entrance was, too. It’s not too hard to get to, and most people don’t know about it.” He smirked, shrugged. “Better than the boathouse?” “God, anything is better than the boathouse,” Rick said, grimacing. “Let’s not even think about that. But yeah. Attic’s better than nothing.” Elliot nodded, then hesitated, watching Rick carefully for a moment before slowly leaning in to press their lips together. He’d been afraid, after everything, that Rick would turn away. Too afraid to try and touch him, let alone kiss him, even if Rick had shown time and again in the past week that he wasn’t going anywhere. “I love you,” Elliot whispered. “I love you, Rick.” “I love you,” Rick said softly, pulling back barely enough to speak after Elliot kissed him, still close enough that their lips brushed together as he spoke. “We’ll get through this, Elliot. I’ll be here for as long as you want me.” “Always.” Elliot answered simply. “Everything’s fallen apart but you’re still here. How could I not always want you there, Rick?” “Then I’ll always be here.” Rick kissed Elliot softly, smiling a little. “And we’ll be okay. You’ll see.” |