(ง'̀-'́)ง (future_dust) wrote in zenithrp, @ 2016-09-22 01:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | #day 049, juno, marco, oliver |
Who: Juno & Marco (and then Oliver!)
When: Afternoon
Where: Oliver’s room
Marco’s morning had left him tired, which, given how badly he’d slept and how all over the place he had been since he’d woken up, wasn’t a surprise. He knew he wasn’t doing much while being cooped up in Oliver’s room, but stress and meds and a messed up sleep schedule had kept him good and tired, and before Erran had left, Marco had passed out on the foot of Oliver’s bed, where he had stayed for a few hours. He’d woken up to an empty room, and he luckily resisted the urge to reorganize the room again in favor of turning on one of the movies Erran had left behind, The Producers and turning up the volume to block out the other loud noises. Even then, he didn’t really pay attention to the movie. He wrapped himself in Oliver’s comforter and sat quietly, twitching at every creaking floorboard or whispered insult. He straight up jumped when he heard a knock at the door.
The knock, though, hadn’t been harsh like the other noises. It had been loud because it had to be to be heard over the TV, but everything else sounded like it had maliciousness behind it. He grabbed the remote and hit mute, so he could listen for the knocking again, and he was almost surprised to hear it a second time. Untangling himself from the blanket took a moment, and he paused to pull up the zipper on his hoodie, still not caring that he was only wearing that and his boxers today. He was more concerned with who could be at the door. The news of the cell being build downstairs had him scared again, and he tried not to focus on the idea that whoever was on the other side was the person who would be bringing him down there to lock him up, and they would have just barged in if the door hadn’t been locked.
The door wasn’t locked, though. Erran hadn’t locked it when he left. Marco took a deep breath, and chose to took this as a good sign. He pressed his ear against the door, listening for who was on the other side, before pulling it open just a crack, just so he could peer out with one eye.
Juno was nervous. Well, when wasn’t she, lately? But this was different. She hadn’t meant to delay talking with Marco so much after his breakdown - episode? She had no idea what to call it - but after all that had happened, that whole can of worms wasn’t one she’d even thought about opening. Until now, anyway. She was looking for change, but also balance; something had cracked within her that had somehow propelled her into a transitory state. She was no longer looking to be the same Juno she had been this entire time, for better or worse. She was tired of being closed off, afraid, and - apparently - defenseless. And a leaf in a very shitty wind at the same time. But that didn’t mean that the words Jim had told her some time ago hadn’t somehow resurfaced in her mind in the middle of all this pain, shock and discomfort. And Chase was right; if there were lunatics around, they all needed friends. Maybe sorting things out with Marco would allow her to move on from being so fucking hurt by shit that shouldn’t matter, maybe she could say she didn’t give a fuck and mean it this time. Bigger fish to fry and all. Find her anchor within herself, like Cecilia had suggested. Well, she hadn’t suggested exactly that, but Juno didn’t like to deposit her security in things or other beings. She had to find a way to make that work for who she was at her core. But now, Marco. Marco and the talk he’d wanted to have days ago. Loose ends. After all, just like him, she needed a schedule, some structure, and some changes. Common ground could probably be found.
She knocked firmly but slowly on Oliver’s door, and waited; Juno heard the noise of the handle turning just as she was about to give it up and go do something else. It didn’t surprise her that Marco had opened it just a crack, and she stood in the middle of his view, not smiling but not scowling either. Like Oliver had told her, she had done her best to wear grey clothes.
“Hi,” she greeted, voice even and soft. “Can I come in for a little while?”
Marco’s brow creased. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Juno, he just hadn’t really expected to. He’d told Erran just a few hours ago that he was worried that he’d damaged his friendships. Now, here was Juno, waiting for him to let her in. He wished the voices would have chosen a different day to annoy and distract him.
“Um… Yeah. Yeah, of course,” he muttered, stepping back from the door and pulling it open for her. He ran a hand over his hair, as if he had enough of it to be messed up. He was vaguely aware that he probably looked off still, which probably had more to do with the dark circles under his wandering eyes than his attire in his mind, but he didn’t care enough to bother to find pants. He’d thrown today’s pair out the window, anyway.
He shut the door behind her, and continued to try to smooth his hair as he looked up at her with a tired smile. “H-hi. I, um… I like your shirt,” he stammered, and hoped that this was a good way to start off on a high note. It was better than pointing out that she also looked tired.
When she saw Marco’s brow crease Juno bit her lip with worry, wondering if she really had blown it by not showing up when she’d said she would the other night. A small sigh of relief escaped her when he did agree to let her in, and she walked into Oliver’s room with her head down. Without wanting to intrude too much Juno took a few steps inside the room and stood there, waiting to be told to sit although she’d seen the couch and, given the really cool division Oliver’s room had, assumed that’s where they could talk. It was only then, when she looked at Marco again that she noticed his little uncovered legs. Boxers and a hoodie. Well, it was a look for sure. She didn’t ask and didn’t comment, considering she was wearing her own pajama shorts, a tank top and a vest, along with sneakers.
“Hi, thanks.” She replied, awkwardly trying for a smile that never really showed. “How’re you, um, doing?”
Marco’s mouth hung open as he tried to convince himself to say that he was doing alright, but that wasn’t entirely true, and he figured that Juno would know it. “Hit a setback. Not great today, but I can talk.” His smile faltered, before falling completely. “If I get too bad, you can leave and tell me that we can talk later. I’m just… I’m actually really happy that you’re here. I wanted to come find you, and Lennon, I just… I can’t go out there.”
He was silent for a moment, awkwardly chewing on his bottom lip as he considered how to proceed. The moment grew longer as he grew distracted with a sound, and he glanced around the room before he abruptly remembered where he was. “Uh… Sit? Want a drink? There’s… There’s water bottles, and root beer. How… How are you? I hear everyone’s, um, really busy out there.”
Juno had her hands in her hips while Marco spoke, nodding as he did. She appreciated the honesty, and felt some solace in that he couldn’t smile either. Misery sure did love company, even though Juno would rather hers not have any. “I can’t… I mean it’s hard for me to walk around out there too. It’s okay, we understand. I’m sorry I didn’t come the other night, I…” she lowered her head. Honesty was what she was going for, but Juno didn’t think he would appreciate knowing she had gotten drunk instead. She sighed, looking away. “I couldn’t do that either, in the end.”
Not knowing what to do about the silence that dragged on and on, Juno looked to Marco for some clue as to how to proceed, but there were none for a while. So she just stood there, waiting. It was with relief that she heard his voice again, nodding effusively as she did exactly what he said, and sat down on a corner of Oliver’s white couch. “I, um… I want a root beer, that okay?”
Marco’s question was a hard one. Juno inhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to figure out how to better respond. Honesty, always honesty. Like ripping off a bandaid. “Oliver told you something bad happened, right? It, um, it happened to me.”
Marco rushed over the where the couple bottles of root beer were left over from the day before and grabbed two, then fell into the computer chair next to the couch and scooted it closer to Juno. He passed her a bottle, but stared confused from behind it. Again it took him a moment to collect his thoughts enough to speak. “Oliver told me that Simms was making trouble and that he was making a…” He paused, took a breath, and tried again. “He’s going to lock him…” He paused, and cringed. One more time. “He’s making sure he doesn’t do it again. He didn’t tell me much else. I know Lennon got hurt…”
Thankfully, he was able to make that connection quicker than expected. He set his jaw as he moved from the computer chair to the couch, next to Juno. He took her gently by the wrist, and pulled her arm up so he could look it over. His gaze darted between her arm and her face, hoping to find what he was missing. “He hurt you too? He… He hurt you?” He put his root beer on the floor so he could reach for her other arm.
Despite taking the bottle from Marco with ease, Juno felt a pang of guilt in her stomach as he visibly tried to make sense of what she had just said. She shouldn’t have said anything, maybe. Maybe honesty was not the best policy as soon as possible just because it helped her deal. When he moved, her eyes were already filling with tears but she couldn’t look at him even as her chin trembled. When he reached for her other arm he would see the bruise, and there was even a little bit of it on her neck; truth be told, with her skin tone she had always thought it was weird to bruise this easily but that had always been the case and age hadn’t changed a thing in that department.
She let Marco touch her, search her for marks like the ones Lennon had, but only because she trusted him despite it all. If anyone else even tried she would have thrown a fit and ran away at this point. Her hands trembled, and she blinked, letting the tears down. “He tried to...you know.” She inhaled sharply, still looking down at the bottle between her knees. “Marco, he tried...”
This was ridiculous. She couldn’t say it. Not even to help Marco understand. “If Chase hadn’t shown up and knocked him down he would’ve…” Still nothing.
Marco didn’t get it right away, but he didn’t really need to. Juno was upset, and he could be there for her, to some extent. He wanted to be there for her. He knew that they still needed to be friends, because it made his heart ache to see her cry. He let go of one of her arms so he could pull the sleeve of his jacket over his hand, and even though he was sure that it was awkward, he used his sleeve to gently wipe her tears off her cheeks. “Sorry, I’m being weird,” he muttered under his breath, but it didn’t stop him from still trying to help.
“I’m so sorry, Juno,” he continued, but past that, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say, if he was supposed to say anything at all. “Whatever he did… You deserve better than all this, you know. He shouldn’t have hurt you.”
It was both sweet and a little funny to have Marco wipe her tears with his sleeve. It even made Juno chuckle softly, shaking her head. “You’re not. Really not.” she replied.
While Marco spoke Juno could only nod. She wasn’t sure how to feel right now, but instead of nothing she felt a whole lot of things at once. Honesty still seemed like the best policy, though. And she was happy that it sounded like Marco was okay, even if not good. He hadn’t understood what Juno thought anybody might have even though she hadn’t come out and said it, but it didn’t matter. He was good enough, and that made her feel hopeful. “If we’re lucky he’ll be locked up for a long time. But we’re never lucky, so I’m expecting him to saunter into this house any day now. And I’m not okay, but I’m trying to be. For when that day comes.”
She turned to him, bottle in one hand. “But that’s not all I came here to tell you, I’m sorry I didn’t come the other night, I don’t think I was ready. I was afraid your default setting was not trusting me forever. I’d never hurt you, and I need you to know that. I know I fucked up trying to keep your feet on earth that one time, and I’m sorry. I should’ve known better, known you better to help you. But if it’s us against them, us is you and me and anyone else who wants to join. You understand? I’m on your side.”
Marco swiped at her cheeks with his sleeve for another moment before he let her go. He shifted so he could tuck one leg under him and turn to face her better, without just hopping back into the computer chair. He moved to take one of her hands, but nervously pulled back, unsure if he’d already invaded her space. He did it a few more times before finally just putting his hands on his knee and frowning. “Maybe, um… Maybe he won’t, though. Or maybe Oliver can protect you, too? I don’t… I don’t know. I don’t know. I want to help, though. Can I… Can I do anything?”
When she turned the subject onto him, he could only meet her eye for a second before he flinched and looked down into his lap again. He was sure that he had wanted to talk about this when he’d requested that she come by to talk, but now that she was here, he wasn’t really sure how to discuss what had happened. He just wanted to make sure that she was okay. It took a few false starts and a lot of stammering, and one outburst of just the word ”popcorn”, before he could piece together any of what he had wanted to say. “I spoke to Erran about it and he said that sometimes when you’re sick all the time, you don’t want to talk about your sickness when you’re feeling alright, you know?” He bit his lip, and took a deep breath and made himself look up at Juno. “I should have prepared you better. I know you were doing your best. That’s on me.”
While Marco shifted Juno took a long sip of the beer, which tasted like shit but somehow, also exactly what she needed it to taste like right now. She let him take and drop her hand as many times as he needed to, and managed to look nothing but impassive throughout, even if she felt a little impatient. Marco needed patience, she could give him that. “He’s helped me, but I don’t want anyone to protect me. Then I depend on other people and they’re not always there.” She explained, looking at the bottle. “You can be my friend. You can be here and do exactly what you did when I had that flashback of my dad. Exactly what I couldn’t do for you: snap me out of it. If I get scared, panicky, weak, you tell me it’s not really happening and it will never happen and I need to get my shit together.”
The rest was up to her. When Marco looked away Juno drank some more, never laughed at the utterances of popcorn. She nodded in understanding at what Erran had said, which made a lot of sense. “None of that,” she motioned behind her as if to gesture towards the past. “Was on you. When you’re ready to tell me how I can help I promise I’ll pay attention.”
“I… I can try,” Marco said softly. “I promise I’ll try.” That was probably the best he could do right then. He hoped that her other friends could do better, and he hated that he couldn’t. Not right now, anyway. “I still want to be your friend. That would be really cool. Oh, look!”
He rolled off the couch and over to the drawer that Oliver had given him space in for his clothes. Some of it he had thrown out the window earlier that morning, but he hadn’t thrown Stitch, which he pulled out and brought back to the couch with him, sure that once Juno saw, she would know that he had had it brought over from his room because of the memories that were connected to it, and her. He held up the hood of it and smiled. If Juno needed an explanation, she wasn’t getting one, just expectant looks from Marco.
Trying was all she’d promised Lennon she’d do too, so she couldn’t fault Marco for not compromising further. Juno gave the first true smile in days when Marco said he still wanted to be her friend. That meant he trusted her, right? It had to. Juno watched Marco move over to pull something out of a drawer; she recognized the blue fur immediately; her smile broadened.
“You brought Stitch with you?” she asked faintly, almost with disbelief. This had to mean something, that he’d brought something that was silly but connected them both - even when he had it in his head that Juno was a traitor who couldn’t be trusted. With her emotions so fucked up as they were, it wasn’t long before Juno was sniffling and biting her bottom lip to keep from tearing up yet fucking again. “So you believe me?”
“Mhmm,” Marco hummed, for a moment to distracted to see that Juno was getting emotional. He draped the sleeve over his hand, humming to himself as he made Stitch’s ears flap back and forth. He laughed vaguely before he heard Juno sniffle again, and he got serious again very quickly. “You’re asking me if I know that you don’t want to hurt me?” He frowned and looked down at the onesie as he bundled it in his hands. He wanted to explain that yes, of course he did, but it was also complicated, and he had no control over the part of him that didn’t allow him to trust anyone. He wanted to explain his delusion to her, so she could understand why he had reacted to her the way he had, and explain how it would be better to try something different, next time.
All of those thoughts, however, flew at him at once, and he didn’t manage to say any of it. “Will… Would… Would it make sense if I said that the part of me that matters does?” he stammered, afraid to look up at her for when she realized that there was still doubt in him.
Quickly, Juno nodded when Marco asked for clarification before reaching out and stroking the fur somewhere on the onesie. It felt comforting, somehow. When Maco hesitated Juno’s smile faltered, and she prepared herself to get disappointed. She finished her root beer while he stammered, reaching out to place the empty bottle on the desk. Exhaling slowly, Juno looked down, still stroking the Stitch onesie’s leg. Don’t take it personally, whatever you get is good enough as it is she told herself.
“You mean, when you’re not having a really bad episode or whatever you call it, you do? But when you are...you don’t ‘cause paranoia’s a part of how your thing manifests?” She could sort of understand that. It was still heartbreaking, but at the moment, in the grand scheme of things, not even that terrible, unfortunately. “I can deal with that. I can disappear when you want me to.”
“Don’t disappear,” Marco told Juno, and there was a hint of panic in his voice. This time he did put his hand on Juno’s arm. “I mean that sometimes… I’m crazy.” He shrugged. That felt like it said it all, while just simplifying it to one word. “I swear, I’ll tell you how I work better later, but… I don’t know if I’m making sense now. But don’t disappear, okay?” He took a deep breath and shook his head, and let go of Juno’s arm again. “Just don’t disappear,” he repeated, whispering.
After a moment more of muttering to himself, he pulled his legs under him again and pulled half of the onesie to his chest. “Did you… Did you want to tell me about your thing, or not talk about it?”
Juno’s eyes widened at the panic in Marco’s voice, and she looked down at her arm where he was touching her. Suddenly she felt bad for having suggested it, and even worse when he called himself crazy. She nodded when he vowed to tell her how to deal with his thing later. “I won’t disappear.” Unless they took her away like they did so many people before. “I promise.”
Watching him mutter to himself, Juno bit her lip worriedly, her breath catching when he finally asked his question. “I, I don’t...Cecilia had to know about it, and Chase knows, and Lennon knows because I think it’s my fault that he got beat up. And now everyone else knows because Simms spilled it out at the meeting in front of everybody. So it’s only fair.” She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “He tried to rape me and I couldn’t defend myself alone and Chase knocked him on the head and saved me. That’s it.” Juno couldn’t look away from the onesie then, but she was proud that she wasn’t tearing up anymore as she remembered it out loud.
“He… He what?” Marco actually jumped at Juno’s admission. He had known what Simms had done to Lennon, and had just assumed that he had tried to do something similar to Juno. The idea of rape hadn’t even crossed his mind. He didn’t even think that anyone here even thought that way, but then again, he didn’t know Simms at all. Oliver’s explanation that Simms’s case was very different than his own suddenly made a lot more sense. That wasn’t what he was focused on at all, though. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, so he just gently ran his hand down Juno’s arm as he tried to figure out words again.
“Jesus, fuck. I… That fucking asshole! Juno… No one told me, I would have checked on you, I swear. That… That shit! What a piece of shit.” He could feel his face get hot with anger. Juno had been through enough, hadn’t she? Why this now?
Juno couldn’t help trembling at Marco’s jump, and how he raised his voice, or at least his alarm. Suddenly her heart wasn’t beating right anymore, and she was trembling a little. Somehow Marco’s touch grounded her, though it used to be the other way around. She breathed like Cecilia had taught her to earlier today, from the diaphragm, closing her eyes. She’d get back to normal; fact. She placed her hand over Marco’s and squeezed until she was.
“I didn’t want anyone to know. Apart from those who had to, like Chase because he showed up, Cecilia because Chase told her and she wanted to take care of me, and Lennon because it was my fault and what happened to him was because of what happened to me, the only thing people knew was that he’d done it to someone.” she explained monotonically, though her voice trembled and faltered as she went on. “But then he outed me at the meeting while being a pig to Cecilia, insinuating that if she didn’t know how to get proper fucked she should ask me for some pointers.”
Marco quieted as Juno started doing breathing exercises, and Marco recognized her breathing as what he had been taught to do. He followed her lead and breathed deep as well, closing his eyes but opening one to check on Juno, until she spoke up again. “He said that?” He shook his head and did his best not to sneer. “Jesus, Juno. I don’t… I don’t know what to say. Do you… Is there anything I can do?”
“He said a lot of things. To me, alone, and to the others. He’s vile.” Juno shivered. She didn’t want to tell him about the threatening of her friends, thinking that might undo every ounce of progress they had achieved, but it was right on the tip of her tongue; so much so she bit it briefly. “You don’t have to say anything. It’s terrible what happened to me, everyone’s really sorry, Chase proposed execution for God’s sake. And yeah, he’s a shitstain and he’s dangerous but I should’ve been able to get away on my own and I wasn’t. No one sees what a failure that feels like. All you can do is be my friend, there’s nothing else you can do, it’s my bad.”
There was a lot to take in on that rant, and Marco first had to try not to get startled at the mention of execution. Oliver and Erran had neglected to mention that that option had been mentioned, and probably for good reason. He breathed in through his nose again, and brought his free hand up to tap on Juno’s shoulder. “Why do you feel like a failure for that? I broke down reacting to a word on my wall. You froze up at something horrifying. That’s okay, I think. And it is not fucking your bad. It’s not even a little bit your bad.”
Without meaning to, Juno pressed her cheek against Marco’s hand he’d put on her shoulder. She wasn’t crying but still felt immensely sad all the same, unable to hide it and unwilling to, as well. She didn’t have to pretend with him. That was what friends were for. “Yes it is because if Chase hadn’t shown up I’d…” she protested, unable to finish the sentence. Juno swallowed her own saliva, only now noticing her hands had balled into fists. “It’s not my fault he’s disgusting. I know that. But I always thought I would be able to defend myself if this happened, I always thought I should. And I wasn’t. And that’s never happening again.”
When Juno lifted her head off of his hand, Marco hesitated a moment, then put his hand on the top of her head and patted down her hair. He’d always had a hair fixation, but with so many different people around with different types of hair, it had gotten a little out of control during this episode, and this realization made him chuckle softly as he pet her hair, only realizing after that maybe it was the wrong time to be laughing.
“That’s never gonna happen again,” he agreed, and for a moment he just figured that she meant because he was locked up now. But that didn’t sound right. “Are you… Are you weaponized now?”
There was a moment of frozen expectancy when Marco’s hands moved up to her hair. Juno’s brow furrowed, her eyes wide, but when he started simply patting her down she felt the situation way too bizarre to be negative in the least. It was funny. When he laughed she sort of did too, albeit a lot more faintly. She did pride herself in having good hair, if this was how someone else was going to enjoy it, she had no objections.
Juno looked in Marco’s eyes. “Not right now, but I will be. I need to think of something. And I’m learning self-defense. And Oliver helped put a bar in my room so I can lock the door then lock it again with it if I’m in there, same with Jack’s. And I have a hammer on my bed and a knife under Jack’s mattress. And a big stick I picked up in the woods after Chase showed up and knocked Simms to the ground. It was jammed between the chair against my door and my bed, so the door wouldn’t open from outside even if the lock was picked. Now it’s not, but it’s still by the door. I need to figure something out though, it’s too heavy and too large.” She smiled at Marco, rubbing her fingers on Stitch and then on his arm. Her expression turned pleading. “Don’t be afraid, okay? You’ll never give me a motive to use any of it. It’s never for you, Stitch. It’s so it never happens again.”
Marco must not have been hiding his expression well, because he was afraid as she listed her arsenal. He understood the precaution, but he was just still uneasy overall, and knives and hammers did nothing to help that. He tried to smile as she assured him that it wasn’t for him, that it was never for him, but it never made it to his eyes. “Okay,” he whispered, then took a breath and tried again, louder this time. “Okay. I just… I hate that you feel like this. The paranoia…” He shook his head. He didn’t know how it felt to be in her situation, but he knew how it felt to have people after you. Even if he wasn’t sure if he ever actually had.
He went back to patting her hair, because it gave him comfort, and she didn’t seem too put off by it. He hummed to himself for a moment as he did, before making a face. “Once Cecilia put me in this crazy bendy wrist hold when I was trying to get my dope. You should get her to show you that. Don’t use it on me.”
Juno was sorry to scare Marco, but at the moment she couldn’t find it in herself to be anything but what she was, and scary must be it. She sighed sadly when his smile didn’t quite convince her, dropping her shoulders. “Marco he’s not sorry and he’s a mean son of a bitch. He’s a vindictive son of a bitch, too.” She started shaking, imagining all she was about to verbalize. “And you know where we are, he’ll be released by Them, one day I’ll wake up tied to his ass all alone in a room and I will die before I let him finish what he started and worse.”
The tears on her eyes now were of rage and fear, and when he went back to patting her hair her chest was visibly rising and falling. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe like Cecilia had told her again. “I asked her to show me everything she knows. She dropped his ass mildly twice already. Audrey’s teaching me too.” With a sad smile, Juno caressed the ears on Stitch’s hood and then touched Marco’s face lightly. “Never on you, remember?”
Marco went still when Juno touched his face, and his gaze slowly went from her hair to her face. “Never on me,” he repeated, but a moment later he was stammering, having trouble getting words out in a moment of excitement at the thought of being helpful. Staying hidden for a few days, then finding this out, he felt like he needed to help somehow.. “B-but if you needed to! I mean, if you need to learn to, uh, throw someone? I could… I could help, if you don’t hurt me too bad? No… No weapons.” He smiled. “But if you needed, I could help. I… I want you to feel powerful. And I don’t want him to touch you again, that mother fucker… So I could be, like, first step, and then you learn to throw someone bigger, because I’m tiny.”
Thinking the stammering was because she was touching him Juno removed her hand immediately, dropping it onto her lap while Marco spoke. As he went on her brow furrowed more and more, until she was fully frowning. She felt violent, enraged, she had wanted to snap and break things more times in two days than in most of her adult life but this sounded abhorrent to her. And sweet. Terribly sweet. He understood, it seemed, and was willing to do even more than Juno would ever consent to. Without warning Juno launched herself at Marco, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly, the Stitch onesie between them like padding. “Stitch, I can’t hurt you even as practice, even as a joke, ever. I can’t.” She sniffled, and buried her face in his neck. “But it means so much that you’d that for me.”
For a moment, Marco stayed very, very still, as Juno pulled him tight. It took a moment, but he put his arms around her and gently rubbed her back. Unsure if he was handling this correctly, he tilted his head back until he was staring up at the ceiling. He wasn’t as good at this hugging thing as Lennon was. He was sure putting his head back gave her more space to breathe, though. “Well… Okay, but if you change your mind, I can help, is all I’m saying,” he assured her. “Or, um, any other way, maybe. Well not any other way. But, uh, some other ways. I can make eggs now! Ah, actually, maybe not.” He couldn’t actually remember much of the day before everything went down, just beating the shit out of Hathaway, and then fear. He knew he cooked eggs with Jack, but the details were gone. “Eggs probably aren’t helpful anyway,” he assured himself.
Once again Juno breathed in relief when Marco hugged her back, and she didn’t even notice he had turned his head upward. The idea of him helping in other ways was better than what he had suggested at first. She smiled at the eggs thing, rubbing the back of his neck before pulling away from the hug a tad. “I’ll keep that in mind. But no beating you up, okay? And if you need anything from me, you just ask. Whatever it is. Even if it’s you needing me to leave you alone.”
After a moment of silence, looking at Marco, Juno sighed and took one of his hands. “You okay, Stitch? We spent all this time talking about my shit, what about you? Anything I can do?”
“Your shit’s more important,” Marco said with a shrug. It was also much easier to explain than I’m upset because my brain did a thing. He gave her hand a squeeze. “Um… I’m… I don’t know. I just need you to be patient with me, I guess? I just… I’m in this weird, um, transistor, where I know I’m sick but I don’t usually see it. Does that make sense? I don’t know, but, um… This has just all been building up, and… It’s been loud today.” He forced a sad smile and rubbed his forehead with his free hand, suddenly feeling awkward. “Sorry I called you one of them, and didn’t go on a walk with you. I didn’t mean it-- Well, I did but not really.” Again he found himself unable to maintain eye contact, and he looked down at their hands. That was easier. “Were you and Lennon mad at me?”
Juno scrunched up her nose when Marco said her shit was more important. When Marco asked for patience Juno nodded in understanding, frowning with worry once he said it had been ‘loud’ today. “Loud like, you’re hearing a lot?” she asked. The apology warmed her heart a little bit, even if he had nothing to apologize for, realistically. “I know, I know. I just… I felt inadequate for bringing that out in you instead of helping you. And remember the dad thing that morning? I wasn’t doing so good either and…”
With a shrug, Juno rubbed her thumb over Marco’s hand, noticing he was looking down at them. “Mad? No! Worried, for sure, but never mad. We just wanted to keep out of your way, you know? I did, anyway. And the night I told you I’d come by, I kind of…” Juno squeezed Marco’s hand, grimacing. “I kind of drank a little too much to calm the nerves and it did the exact opposite. And then I got sloppy and feeling sorry for myself and that would only make things worse.”
Marco nodded when Juno asked for clarification on what he meant by ‘loud’. “Yeah, there’s a lot of yelling and noise. It was worse this morning, but it’s still loud, I’m just trying to ignore it,” he explained. He put his free hand over both of theirs before he leaned closer, so he could speak quietly, even if what he had to say wasn’t really a secret. “Juno, I don’t really want to talk about the octopus day anymore right now, okay?” He didn’t look up at Juno, but he did turn to look around the room, like the cell that Oliver was building would just appear.
“Is Lennon mad, though?” he asked again. “I messaged him yesterday after I heard what happened, and he stopped talking to me real quick… Is he mad?” He probably wouldn’t believe that Lennon wasn’t mad until he heard it from Lennon himself, but it was worth asking. “How badly hurt is he?” He said nothing about her drinking, because if he thought about it, he’d start wanting a drink, too.
Unable to imagine what that must’ve been like, Juno just nodded as he explained, trying and mostly failing not to look as sorry as she felt for what she imagined had to be a living hell. She widened her gaze as Marco leaned closer, and instinctively did the same, craning her neck like one does naturally when straining to hear. At his request, she nodded again. “Okay, Marco. We won’t talk about it anymore right now.”
Smiling sympathetically, Juno took her free hand to rub Marco’s shoulder. “Nah, he’s not mad. He’s just really tired and better off in bed sleeping it all off. I think maybe he’s not up to being on the computer too much, or at least wasn’t yesterday.” She scratched her neck. “He’s pretty bruised up. Eyes, nose, a bunch of places all over his body...it’s gonna take some time, a lot of painkillers and I guess some ice. If you wanna stop by I can come with you if you think it’ll be easier for you. He’d probably love to see you, I mean, it’s Lennon.”
Thankfully, Marco missed the sad look that Juno gave him as he explained how loud it was. He kept looking around the room and down at their hands, even when he winced at the description of Lennon’s injuries. “Mother fucker,” he grumbled again. “That Simms is a real piece of shit. I… I know I couldn’t have done shit if I was there for either of you, but… You know, still.” He shrugged. At the suggestion that she could go with him if he wanted to go by and check, Marco froze up. He looked towards the door, trying to think of if he wanted to go out there yet. He wanted to see Lennon, yes, of course, but now, there was a cell in the house, and someone still thought he was a murderer. His mouth hung open as he tried to tell this to Juno, but nothing more than a low whine left him, and he soon just jerked back and shook his head, and didn’t stop.
Not knowing what to say to that, though Juno corroborated his feelings, she just nodded at Marco, halfway to telling him she didn’t want to talk about that piece of shit anymore either. She once again elected not to tell him about the ‘threaten your friends’ thing, but it made her feel guilty. When Marco was feeling better, that was a conversation they needed to have too. And Juno would need to be clear in that if he wanted to protect himself by getting away from her for good, he had the right to, and she would understand. It would hurt, but Simms harming someone else because of her would hurt her more.
Juno hadn’t understood, when she’d spoken, that Marco would think she meant they should go check on Lennon right away. She tensed up and winced at his reaction. “Hey, Marco, I didn’t mean right now, okay? We’re not going anywhere until you wanna go. I promise. You say when, okay? We can just hang out.” She pulled her free hand away from him and laid it on the onesie that was still sort-of folded between them. “Or I can leave, whatever you need.”
Marco didn’t calm down right away. His head shaking turned into little twitches, and though he tried to look at Juno, his attention wandered the room, to things he was sure Juno couldn’t see or hear. He sat like that for a bit, probably longer than what was comfortable for Juno, holding her hand until he was closer to calm. He wasn’t about to entertain the thought of Juno leaving. Hell, he was pretty sure this was the second time she had offered, and he planned to ignore it this time, too.
He cleared his throat when he was ready to talk again, and though he liked holding Juno’s hand, he pulled free just so she understood that he was okay. Well, okay-ish. “S-sorry.” He continued to look around the room, a little more out of it than he had been before, but he was still trying. “Do you want a drink? Oh, you have a drink. Um… What… What else is, um, going on? How’s… Jack?”
Lowering her head, Juno sat in silence while Marco’s head darted from one side of the room to the other, looking at things she couldn’t see. Once again she felt useless in helping him, and thought that maybe just sitting in silence might be the best she could do. She only looked up when he let go of her hand, stretching hers as if to grab it again but curling her fingers at the last second. “My drink’s finished, actually, but don’t get up. I’ll get one, where are they stashed?” she stood up and looked around. “Jack’s okay, considering. They took away our food the other day so he and I spent that whole day making stuff with veggies and fruit, it was fun. And educational, but a pain in the ass. I’m staying with him for now, too. Dunno if I’d told you that already.”
“I don’t think you did, no,” Marco said as he pointed across the room, to where Oliver had been leaving snacks and stuff for him to eat while he was gone. If she had said that she was staying there already, he’d already forgotten. “I think I kind of heard about the, um, the fruits and veggies thing. Oliver came up with these french fries, and they were pretty good. I like french fries.” He pulled his hood up onto his head, and absently played with the zipper as he spoke. “You’re learning to cook?”
“Sorry, I thought I had. Makes me feel safer.” Juno replied, walking across the room to get herself another root beer. After uncapping it, she turned back to Marco. “You want something to eat maybe?”
Remembering the good day they’d had in the kitchen together Juno smiled, nodding. “Oooh yeah those fries were really well seasoned I had so many that day. And I learned a bunch of useful stuff. I usually help Jack when he needs help and I usually have a good time, and I usually learn a bunch of stuff. So I guess I am. I mean the only thing standing between me and proper cooking was sharing a tiny ass kitchen with four other people, so.”
Marco thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, okay. What’s over there, chips?” He had eaten earlier, not much, but something so he wasn’t sure he was hungry, but if he didn’t eat when she asked him to, he wasn’t sure that he would at all.
Seeing Juno smile made him try to smile, too, even if it was just a tired little thing. “That’s awesome,” he told her. “Mostly because it means I don’t have to try to make you eggs if you’re good at making them yourself.” This time his smile was more genuine. His eggs disaster was becoming infamous. “I like eggs. And french fries. What’s your favorite food?”
After a quick check Juno nodded, and picked up the first packet of chips at hand, bringing both it and her beer back to the couch where she handed the chips to Marco before sitting down again. “It’s always good to know this kind of shit though, you never know when you might need it.” Plus, she would never say no to a meal she didn’t have to make herself. Ever. Unless it was another one of those demonic omelettes. “Sheesh, I don’t know. I love food. Coney Island hot dogs, empanadas - both kinds, uhm...cake with marzipan frosting...I could sit here all day telling you my ‘favorite’ foods. There's a lot. But how about we watch a movie instead?”
Marco put the chips aside and looked over towards Oliver’s TV, where The Producers was still playing on mute. “I put that on and turned the volume up really loud,” he said dully. The evidence of his blanket cocoon was still on the bed, tangled in a knot. He could probably crawl back into it and relax, and go back to not really watching the movie. “I can start it over, if you want, or we could watch a different movie, if you... Do you really want to sit here and watch a movie with me?” It wasn’t like the two of them getting together to watch a movie was strange, it was more that he was strange, currently. What if he rambled right through the movie?
Looking to the screen, Juno didn’t really recognize the movie right away, but she didn’t really care. Marco’s question felt weird, and she furrowed her brow at it, then shrugged. “I don’t really care, I kind of just...I’m tired of talking ‘cause it leads to thinking and I’m tired of that, too. My head’s kind of a mess, your head’s kind of a mess so just hanging out with you would be pretty cool, I don’t really care what we do. So it’s up to you. And, as always, if you want me to leave just say so. But be gentle.”
Marco nodded, understanding, but a small smile started to curve his mouth. “I’m okay watching this, or whatever you want to watch,” he said, “but, um… Is your head too much of a mess for reading?” He tried not to look too excited at the idea. Reading did take more effort than watching a movie, but he always looked forward to reading with Juno. It was a comfort now, and he missed it. “Not Gone With The Wind. We can take turns. You can pick the book.”
Reading. Now there was something Juno hadn’t done in too long for it to be a normal pause. When Marco suggested it, she paused, thinking twice about it, but then decided that losing herself in any fictional world, however it came about, was as close as she could safely get to an altered state of mind where none of what hurt and concerned her could get to her anymore. A small grin appeared on her face, and she sat forward excitedly. She took some more time to pick the book. It was a personal one that she found bittersweet. “Can we read Matilda by Roald Dahl? I used to dream about having the same luck as her when I was a kid.”
“If they have it, then yeah, I’d like that,” Marco said with a lopsided smile. The book didn’t really matter, usually, but he liked the idea of listening to a story that Juno held dear in some sense. He wouldn’t admit that it was actually one of the few books he had read as a kid. He just wanted to read with Juno, and truthfully, he remembered none of the book anyway. “You have to go get it from the library, thought. The study? I don’t fucking know. I’m gonna put Stitch on.” He grabbed for the onesie again.
“Oh it’s one of the books I stole from the library permanently. You know, for when I feel like reading it.” Already standing up, Juno took a sip of her beer, set in on the desk, and moved towards the door. “Alright I’ll be right back.”
It didn’t even occur to Juno until she was outside her room’s door that she had to be in it for a little while in order to grab the book. Standing there, looking around herself several times, she breathed herself into a calmer state and opened the door, picking up the stick that was standing by it against the corner. Lights on first, bar in place, a quick inspection of the bathroom and then she was going for the small, secret pile of books in her closet, right next to the shoes. It wasn’t even a minute to pick up the copy, undo the extra bar lock and leave that terrifying place. She had the decency to knock before announcing herself outside Oliver’s room and making sure Marco wouldn’t be startled by her arrival, and then she slumped back into the couch. “Got it. Who starts?”
Marco was still in the process of putting his Stitch onesie on when Juno sat back down, having been distracted first by his hoodie’s zipper, then by the onesie’s. When Juno returned, he threw his hands up questioningly and pouted. “You’re not gonna be a unicorn fish?” If she was or wasn’t, he gestured her over to Oliver’s bed, where his blanket cocoon was. He quickly tried to smooth that out and somewhat make the bed so Juno would be more comfortable. Not that he knew if she was uncomfortable. “Uhhh, you start, it’s your story,” he told her as he rolled onto the bed, pressing out the lumps he’d left once he settled.
Juno sighed heavily. She’d forgotten the onesie, but really didn’t feel like going back for it again. “Not today, Stitch.” she said, apologetically. She jumped into Oliver’s bed with more familiarity than she thought she should have, and kicked her shoes off before leaning back against a pillow. As per Marco’s instructions she started reading, deciding to switch with Marco every four pages or whenever there was a natural break in the text after that. Soon enough, just like she’d imagined, Juno’s heart felt a little lighter and her mind a little emptier.