lesterzeppelin | mask or menace

Yeah, of course. [ Apollo pulls a chair up next to Max's bed, taking a seat and pulling one leg up around him. The scene is familiar, even if the mess isn't. He can't help worrying, even if that won't change a damn thing. He's here now. He can help now.

So when he asks, he asks like a doctor, with the same cursory glance he would give any of his patients:]

You okay? Like, physically speaking?

Me? Yeah. Yeah.

[He says it like he's dismissing even the need to ask the question. Doesn't he look like he's okay? He opened the bag and started pulling containers out of it onto the desk.]

I mean--I was kind of dizzy? And those dreams took a lot out of me, but nothing a good couple meals won't fix. Nothing big. Which do you want first?

[ No one loses twenty pounds overnight in a normal, healthy fashion, even if they were in a dream-induced coma for three nights. Apollo frowns, taking a closer look at Max, resting his arms on top of the chair. ]

Whichever. I'm not super hungry. [ He frowns, not willing to let this go just yet, ] Define your dizziness. Was it closer to nausea? What other things were you feeling?

If you say so, Apo. [He says it while grabbing one large container of one of his favorites. He isn't feeling the usual pleased spike, the pleasure from knowing he's about to savor something he loves. He's just ravenous. He takes a huge bite before even answering Apollo. Talks with his mouth full.]

More disoriented than anything. Headache. Took me a bit to get my bearings on where I was. The dream felt so real, I almost didn't remember being here. [He said it like it should have been funny.]

[ This is starting to sound way less like a dream and more like... like going home. Apollo's still giving Max a skeptical look, even as he swallows back his initial words. ]

Can you - [ he hesitates, ] Can you tell me a little more about your dream, babe?

[He keeps chewing, eyes distant. The dream is so fresh in his mind it may as well have happened onto a minute ago instead of hours. Was it hours? Days? Weeks? He swallows and his throat feels sore. Like he's eating for the first time after weeks of screaming. But that couldn't be right.]

I don't know what you want to know. I'm...here. But then I was there. And it was...it was so crazy. I lost everything. Some of it was like having dreams inside of dreams. Nightmares. And then I was back here again? Kind of like when I first showed up. But then I woke up in my bed and it took a second to remember what was even life anymore.

[ None of this sounded good. Max, losing everything? Being here and "there," wherever there was? Apollo's expression crumbles. He may not be an all-knowing god anymore, but knowledge and reason were his domains at one point.

He can reason that something happened. Max must've been Ported out, but something made him think he wasn't ported out. How else could he... not remember... ]

I'm sorry. [ he frowns, ] You really had it rough. But all I want to know is... did you remember this world? Did you remember anything about this Earth?

[Max stops eating then. Tries to think, because Apollo wouldn't ask that question without a reason. Everything was so messy, so surreal and too real at the same time.]

Yeah? Not for most of it. But at the end I did. It was like I was waking up from the dream or something because I started remembering things about being here. It was like I was reliving coming here the first time again. Then I woke up here in my room.

Mm, in that case... [ Apollo's expression softens, in what feels like a rueful smile - ] There's no easy way to say this so I'll be blunt. I think you went home.

[Max's hand clenches in the carton he's holding. His eyes are a bit wide as he looks at Apollo, because maybe that might be the simplest explanation. Maybe he went home and came back and somehow got back to his house and woke up there, but...how?]

Nah. [He looks away, shakes his head.] I don't... Babe, that can't all have been real.

[ Now he feels like the bearer of bad news, but between them - Apollo feels like the rational one. He rises to his feet, helping himself to a plate of food, as if that'll make the situation lighter - ]

Normally I would agree. But most people don't lose, what, 15-20 pounds overnight? [ he sucks in a breath, ] I'm not speaking as your boyfriend right now. I'm speaking as your doctor, and I'm seeing differences in you that... frankly, can't be explained by anything else.

[He looks down at himself, and really tries to look. He can see how his clothes are a baggier, his skin tighter, his body exhausted and ravenous at the same time. His stomach clenches. Is that nerves or the fact he hasn't eaten real food in over a month?]

I burn a lot of calories when I'm stressed out. [He says it quickly, like that will explain everything.] Being stuck in a nightmare dream world seems pretty stressful. There's no way I'd go back home just to have my life explode like someone strapped a ton of C-4 to it. So I could--

[--that clenched stomach quickly turns into a very tight, twisting pain. He winces, brings a hand down to massage his stomach. Well he definitely remembers this feeling of eating solid foods after days--or weeks--or not having any. It'll pass in an hour or so, but it always hurts.]

Max. [ Apollo's frown worsens, ] To burn a single pound, you'll need at least a calorie deficit of what, 3,000 calories? Multiply that by fifteen and you're telling me you've seriously lost 45,000 in –

[ Nevermind. Not when Max is in serious pain. Apollo abandons his food, drawing in another breath, ]

Water. If you're in that much pain, drink only water. I'll go see if your roommates have any juice...

[Max thankfully didn't drop his food all over the ground, but manages to drop it onto the table without it falling over.]

Just--Just give me a minute. Please. This is...

[He clenches his teeth. The truth is staring him in the face--or punching him in the gut--and Max doesn't want to see it. Doesn't know if he can believe anything anymore. Weeks of lies and fake memories and how is he supposed to just believe this?

Why does the truth have to be the worst thing possible? Why can't that be the dream?]

...I killed a lot of people, Apollo.

[ oh.

Oh Gods, that's what was gnawing away at Max. Apollo's expression falls as he takes a tentative step forward. Max said to give him a minute - no talking, no reactions. Just - a long moment to process something that important.

In another life, he might've said 'what's the big deal?' or 'they're only mortals.' Yet now he gets it. A life is a life, no matter how short. People are precious, and for someone this sweet and loving to have committed such a crime was unfathomable. Not impossible, given Max's powers, but...

Apollo gives the generator an involuntary glance. ]

You didn't mean to.

[Max doesn't try to move away from him, but he does move his hand to his wrist, feeling for that inhibitor watch to make sure its there. He's hungry, in pain, and tired to his bones.]

I've always known it could happen, that I'm a bomb waiting to go off. And I did and they're dead. Does it matter if I wanted it to happen or not?

[ The instinct to reach over and touch him is ridiculous. Apollo wants to hold him, to let him know it's going to be okay, but - he's also in tremendous pain. His healing and loving instincts are fighting each other here and he berates himself for feeling so selfish.

Even if the watch weren't there, Apollo would give up his sunshine for Max. He's done it before. He can do it again. ]

Yeah. It does. 'Evil' people wouldn't be beating themselves up over something they couldn't prevent. [ he draws in a breath, ] So you didn't mean to. You still value a life - what those people lived for, dreamed for, and could've been. It's... it's all the more reason to keep living for them.

[If Apollo were to touch him now, Max isn't sure how he would react. He should turn it down, to be careful, but...he's not someone who does well with no contact. Never has been. His skin feels itchy and dry and yet grimy at the same time. Is that real or just his mind playing tricks on him? When isn't his mind playing tricks on him nowadays?]

Yeah? But when... [He swallows the hard lump in his throat down.] When does you being alive become too dangerous for everyone else? More people get hurt every time this happens. Next time it won't be a thousand people. Next time it'll be hundred thousand. Million. Who the--Who the fuck knows, Apo.

[He's gone from just rubbing the wrist around the watch to clenching it, digging his nails into the flesh.]

[ For the first time, Apollo's at a loss for words.

If he subscribed by that philosophy, he wouldn't have been able to move forward after Python, or Hyacinthus, or Jason (gods, and he hasn't even told Max about Jason - despite wearing a bracelet with Jason's name on it 24/7). Yet he gets it. Hurt means pain, and pain means lashing out, even at the ones who care for him.

No, maybe especially the ones who care for him. ]

I don't think either of us get to make that judgment call. [ he swallows, taking another few steps - deciding to just go for it, give Max that sunshine again. ] Not right now, when you're still trying to process everything.

[Apollo is close enough Max can feel energy from him, even though he can't take it into himself. It's around in the air and so damn close that if he leaned a bit more towards him... At that point, Max's fist clenches tightly. The light bulb in the lamp by the bed flickers and pops. He takes in a heavy breath. Focus. Control. Focus.]

I'm a death trap. Either someone else is gonna take me out before it gets too far or I'm gonna take out an entire city. I know that. I've always known... I'd rather make the call than let someone else make it for me.

[ The light bulb POPS and Apollo jumps. The hell was - oh. Oh, the light bulb. At least it didn't break. He sighs, shaking his head a little before he stands taller. He can't let Max let go like this.

"You're anything but a death trap," Apollo wants to argue, yet that would lead to even more fighting when he just wants to help. Share the pain. Do whatever it is that would make Max feel more human.

Though when Max mentions 'making a call,' Apollo's face grows pale. He can feel an arrow trying to pierce through his heart. Not literally - of course not, he's fine. He has the will to live. But then again, back when he had been in these shoes, walked that same mile with trying to take himself out and then Jason...

He hadn't told Max. And he still won't, because ultimately this is about Max's humanity, what makes Max human. ]

I get that. [ he holds his hands up in surrender, leaning back - ] But right now, no one's trying to get you. It's just us. No call to make to begin with.

Sorry. Sorry.

[Apollo is backing up, leaning away. Which of course he should because who knows what Max could do. What if the watch doesn't work? What if Apollo touches him and he drains him instantly? He shudders at the very thought. He leans away him, making himself smaller as he sits on his bed with his tooth-pick thin limbs tucked in close.]

But you don't know. People kept being hurt. Now they're dying. Over and over. They kept showing me all the ways they would die. It was all a lie. Them fucking with my head. But what about when it's not anymore. I'm not killing anyone right now, but next week I could go off like a nuclear reactor. We don't know.

[ okay, stepping away wasn't the answer. Not if it's making Max just dig further and further inside his head, and definitely not if it's making him dwell on a tragedy that may not even happen here.

Apollo takes one look at Max before closing the distance between them, standing before him - and gripping both hands on Max's shoulders. His hands glow a faint yellow as he focuses on Max - on keeping him emotionally and physically stable, on listening to him, on being there for him.

In the end, isn't that what it means to be human? ]

Babe. [ He doesn't suck in a breath, or grimace, or anything, despite the energy being sucked from him. If anything, he seems normal? Like his body's replenishing that infinite energy from a source beyond him? ] Breathe. Focus on me.

[Max's body jerks in surprise, but doesn't completely pull away from the hands on his shoulders. He stares up at Apollo, listening to him, trying to let his words sink in as that golden energy spreads around the room and he soaks in what he can of it. With the watch on, he can't take in all of it, but the amount he's getting does help him settle. It eases some of the tension and allows him to focus better, to clear his mind. It takes the edge off.]

...I'm breathing. I'm alive. They're the ones who are dead and...I don't know how to live with that, Apo. I don't.

None of us do, at first.

[ Now that's the voice of experience talking. Over millennia, Apollo had taken countless lives. The blood on his hands must be infinite, never-ending - except for this brief time where he lives as Lester. Lester, who only kills in defense, who would rather talk his way out of a fight than charge straight into the battlefield. He keeps emitting sunlight, as his attention remains on Max. ]

It's... there's no perfect answer. You don't want to forget them, but that just makes your life eons more important. Because you have to live for them.

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topmeup - 2019-06-30 21:11 (UTC) - Expand

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lesterzeppelin - 2019-07-01 01:24 (UTC) - Expand

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