We have nothing but time, sir. The world has already fallen apart. It will continue to be as such a few more days while you take a moment for yourself. How effective do you imagine you'll be if you don't take a moment?
[It's absolutely hypocritical for Monty to be offering this advice when keeping a stiff upper lip is his typical tactic, as well.]
I'm not sure you'll remember it, but I drank myself to sleep the day I discovered my Sib- Ms. Hallward had disappeared. She was my very best friend from back home. [And quite a bit more, but Monty knows his letter had been telling on that front.] We pick up and we move on, certainly, but there has to be a moment we're allowed to fall apart.
[He reaches across the table tentatively to touch his fingers to one of Joseph's arms. There's nothing particularly sensual in it, just trying to offer comfort.]
It's all right. I promise there are other people to take over for a moment. You've made certain of that with all you've done.
[It's all very sensible advice, really. Joseph knows he's not a robot (despite what some of those rumors at the KCPD said) and any reasonable person would do the same in his situation. He'd never judge another person for taking a moment for themselves.
Though it's never been easy for Joseph to apply the reasoning he'd use on another person for himself.
When he finally responds, it's very quietly and sounds almost like a confession.]
If I fall apart, I don't know if I'll be able to pick up again.
You will always have my hand to raise you up if you need to take it, Joseph. [All the better to pull him in the direction Monty would prefer.
No.
No, he's not trying to be calculating about this. It's just a kindness. A simple kindness from one friend to another. Turning that part of himself off is a little more challenging than Monty would have thought.]
And I'm very good at puzzles if you need someone to help put the pieces back together. What do you need right now? Not what you should need. What do you need and want? Ms. Oswald? Someone else? I can go and fetch them if I'm not the person you want to talk to. But you should be with someone, Joseph.
I don't know what I need. I don't know what to do.
[W O W, Monty. Thankfully Joseph can't read minds. And given the circumstances, he's completely off-kilter as far as his usual intuition for people and their motives. Especially Monty's.
The contact is appreciated, since Joseph hasn't gone anywhere near anyone else since it became obvious Sebastian wasn't coming back. But he's not meeting Monty's eyes, still staring at the table. Still hasn't touched his tea, either.]
I know what I should be doing. What I should be able to do. I just don't know if I'll be able to.
[It's odd to make a gesture with the bird staring at them, but Monty tries to ignore it.]
Would it be easier if I told you what to do?
[He can remember Cecil taking control, Jack taking control, had helped him when he'd been a terribly tight place. But he recalls that Joseph had wanted to be in control after coming out of a desperately terrible situation before.]
[You could have fooled him, Joseph, with the red-rimmed eyes.]
That's good.
[Right. There go two of his ideas to help and soothe. Soothing. Tea is soothing. What else? Monty looks down at where his hand is on Joseph. A massage? Yes. Perhaps? Touch, at least.]
Have you ever had a massage before?
[With as uptight as Joseph usually is... it's questionable.]
[From Sebastian. He's not about to say that, though.
The hand on his arm is good, at least, just a little bit of an anchor to tether him back to a world it constantly feels like he's being dragged away from. A world that did drag Sebastian away, somehow. The most stubborn person in the universe, and he couldn't stand up to a crumbled reality.
What chance did Joseph stand, then?
Ugh. Time to push that thought away and stamp it down as hard as he can.]
Not right now, though. Thank you. I just need- another voice, I think.
All right. [He's not going to press on anything Joseph knows he doesn't want. Another topic, then. Monty glances around the room for inspiration.] Is that what hatched from your egg?
[He'll be a little surprised if it is. He would have thought a snake for a serpent like Sophia.]
Rodan... it's a good name. [Strong and simple. It was strange to think he ate delusions, but at least this made for a place where the bird would never go hungry.]
Perhaps it's silly to ask, but I don't suppose he can speak? Or understand speech like the bookworms do, at least?
[Monty follows Joseph's attention to the bird, then startles when it swears at them. Well, that's... one way to keep the memory of his colleague alive.]
It's... it's certainly impressive. [Something like that.] I do hope he picks up a bit more vocabulary. I can imagine that being a touch awkward to come out in polite conversation. [Not that it had ever stopped Sebastian.]
Yeah. I'm not bringing him out to socialize until then. It's like...
[Joseph slowly goes quiet. He brings his hand up to his face and covers the lower half of his face, closing his eyes and lowering his head slightly. His chest heaves once, twice, and he reaches up with his other hand to remove his glasses before rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand.]
[Well, that was to be expected, really. Monty rises from his chair and moves around the table to Joseph's side. He's hesitant to pull the other man wholly into his arms as he might for Cecil, but the gentleman isn't very sure there's much else to do. He kneels so he isn't looming over Joseph and tentatively wraps an arm around him, leans his head against the other man. Perhaps it if's Monty holding tight to him, it won't be as bad as the reverse in Joseph's mind.]
It's all right. It's like Sebastian. That's a bit funny, isn't it? I'm sure we'll have Rodan with better manners before he gets back. He'll be terribly annoyed, I'm certain.
[Joseph can't stand looking weak like this (though only himself-- he'd never, ever assume someone else was weak for expressing their emotions... go figure.) Part of him wants to light himself on fire out of sheer embarrassment, keeping much of his face covered by a hand. At the very least Monty can't see his face as well from his awkward sideways embrace.
For a cunning, manipulative murderer, he's really not a bad friend.]
I've always been able to follow him. Now I can't, and I...
I know. [Monty says, quietly, keeping his eyes averted from Joseph to give him some measure of privacy.] You're one of the strongest men I know, though. When I was very young, my father told me we follow the candles made and lit by others as we grow. But there comes a point when that light we chased goes dark. What burned in the heart burns up and out.
There are other ways to go, other candles to turn to... or we light our own, and move forward in the dark, the hand of someone else we'll have to lead clutched close. [He strokes gently down Joseph's side.] There are people here chasing your light, Joseph; you hold a candle that burns as bright as anything Sebastian held. You know the direction he was walking. It's just a little feeling your way out ahead. And you needn't walk any path alone. You know you have friends to turn to. I know you can do it.
[The candle analogy is strangely comforting... considering that the idea of anyone leaning on him or needing his light to go on feels overwhelmingly heavy right now. He knows that's not how it was meant, so he tries hard not to think of it that way.
He takes a long, shaky breath.]
I don't know where you see any strength in me.
[He's stoic. He's serious. He pushes himself to help others above all other things. But Joseph has never chalked any of that up to his own strength. He always could have done more. He always could have done better. He was only fortunate to have learned from one of the best officers, the best detectives that the KCPD had ever seen.]
You and him both. He always trusted me so much. If you asked him, he'd say I could walk on water.
He'd say I was being crazy like this. He'd be horrified.
He'd say you're being you. You act as though you ought to be able to walk on water, even when you'd never demand it of anyone else.
[As someone who puts a desperate amount of work into not being idle or 'useless' himself, Monty can appreciate self-imposed impossible standards. Not that he'll acknowledge his own, but seeing them in others is easy enough.]
And it's charming in a way, but you'll tear yourself apart from the inside, Joseph. You needn't be perfect. I don't think I'd care much for a man who was. No one would. You're more complicated than perfection. And that's terrible and wonderful all at once.
You said you'd listen to what I said... I'd like you to let go. Just for five minutes. No more than that. There's no need to carry on in misery for an age, but for five - ten minutes at most, I'd like you to let yourself let go. I think I should be a bit disappointed if you can't manage that. And Sebastian would, as well. There's no danger to rescue anyone from. There's no fight to be had. There's a quite moment here in this room. Please make use of it.
[He's not sure if it's the right tactic to take, but giving permission doesn't seem to be breaking through. Perhaps ordering?
Monty slips his other arm behind Joseph's back. For someone he didn't know as well, this would be mortifying, but for Joseph, it's all right. He just hugs the other man to him and doesn't look up, doesn't try to cast any judgmental looks, however well-meaning.]
[Welp. Monty hit the nail on the head on that one. Joseph seems to realize it, and doesn't bother trying to argue with him. Just the fact that someone has seen him weak enough to realize his perfectionism affects him so much is humiliating-- and at the same time, so, so indicative of that particular neurosis it's actually almost funny.
He almost wants to snap that he didn't need permission to feel. He doesn't need permission to mourn or grieve or to forgive himself. Now if only it didn't seem like he actually did.
Covering his eyes with one hand, he rests that elbow on the table and just sits there for a moment, silently. Every so often his chest shudders, but otherwise, he doesn't let anything else slip.
Not quite what Monty was encouraging, maybe, but a start, at least.]
[A very good start. Monty doesn't say anything for a minute or two, just slides his hand up Joseph's back to rub between his shoulder blades. There aren't many more words he has to offer to console, but there is music. A melody swirls around them, soft and low as Monty begins to sing. He has a smooth, rich tenor.]
I want to linger a little longer, a little longer here with you. It's such a perfect night. It doesn't seem quite right That this should be my last with you.
We've had a lovely time, partners we are in crime. A pair, a set, not one but two. You've made me stronger, I'll last here longer for all you gave - your friendship true.
And come December I will remember Our joys, our pains, our lows and highs. And as the days go by, I'll think of you and sigh This is goodnight not goodbye.
I want to linger a little longer a little longer here with you.
[The music trails off along with Monty's voice. Perhaps that had been more absurd than comforting to a man who's never heard Monty sing his feelings before, but it's meant in the spirit to honor Sebastian, at least.]
To say the least, the idea that the man can summon up his own musical accompaniment on command is... weird. But then again, look where they are.
The gesture, at least, is appreciated, even if Joseph doesn't move to react to it very much. He shakes his head at one point, then takes a few more slow breaths.
Eventually he slumps a little further, resting his arms on the table and pressing his forehead to them.]
[What's a little mournful musical number between friends, Joseph? At the very least this isn't the sort of moment that calls for spontaneous choreography. He'll save that for another time when he can have Joseph join him in a dance. Possibly even a chorus or two.
The gentleman just holds where he is, waiting for the detective to ask him to let go. Joseph had asked him to be a voice, so Monty does speak.]
We'll get him back like we got Ms. Oswald back. We'll maintain until then. You'll endure. You've managed the end of the world. You're certainly ready to handle this. He was your senior, wasn't he? He gave you the skills you need to keep going. And you, Joseph, you've brought drive and passion. I e faith in you, just like Detective Castellanos would.
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[It's absolutely hypocritical for Monty to be offering this advice when keeping a stiff upper lip is his typical tactic, as well.]
I'm not sure you'll remember it, but I drank myself to sleep the day I discovered my Sib- Ms. Hallward had disappeared. She was my very best friend from back home. [And quite a bit more, but Monty knows his letter had been telling on that front.] We pick up and we move on, certainly, but there has to be a moment we're allowed to fall apart.
[He reaches across the table tentatively to touch his fingers to one of Joseph's arms. There's nothing particularly sensual in it, just trying to offer comfort.]
It's all right. I promise there are other people to take over for a moment. You've made certain of that with all you've done.
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Though it's never been easy for Joseph to apply the reasoning he'd use on another person for himself.
When he finally responds, it's very quietly and sounds almost like a confession.]
If I fall apart, I don't know if I'll be able to pick up again.
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No.
No, he's not trying to be calculating about this. It's just a kindness. A simple kindness from one friend to another. Turning that part of himself off is a little more challenging than Monty would have thought.]
And I'm very good at puzzles if you need someone to help put the pieces back together. What do you need right now? Not what you should need. What do you need and want? Ms. Oswald? Someone else? I can go and fetch them if I'm not the person you want to talk to. But you should be with someone, Joseph.
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[W O W, Monty. Thankfully Joseph can't read minds. And given the circumstances, he's completely off-kilter as far as his usual intuition for people and their motives. Especially Monty's.
The contact is appreciated, since Joseph hasn't gone anywhere near anyone else since it became obvious Sebastian wasn't coming back. But he's not meeting Monty's eyes, still staring at the table. Still hasn't touched his tea, either.]
I know what I should be doing. What I should be able to do. I just don't know if I'll be able to.
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Would it be easier if I told you what to do?
[He can remember Cecil taking control, Jack taking control, had helped him when he'd been a terribly tight place. But he recalls that Joseph had wanted to be in control after coming out of a desperately terrible situation before.]
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I don't know. But I'll listen.
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When was the last time you ate properly? Took a bath? Just took care of yourself? Please drink a bit of that before you answer.
[He nods toward the tea, and lets his hand stay where it is on Joseph's arm, thumb rubbing back and forth in what he hopes might be a soothing way.]
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The answer comes calmly.]
Yesterday, for both. I'm not a total mess.
[Hence the forcing himself to keep working, of course. That includes taking care of himself.]
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That's good.
[Right. There go two of his ideas to help and soothe. Soothing. Tea is soothing. What else? Monty looks down at where his hand is on Joseph. A massage? Yes. Perhaps? Touch, at least.]
Have you ever had a massage before?
[With as uptight as Joseph usually is... it's questionable.]
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[From Sebastian. He's not about to say that, though.
The hand on his arm is good, at least, just a little bit of an anchor to tether him back to a world it constantly feels like he's being dragged away from. A world that did drag Sebastian away, somehow. The most stubborn person in the universe, and he couldn't stand up to a crumbled reality.
What chance did Joseph stand, then?
Ugh. Time to push that thought away and stamp it down as hard as he can.]
Not right now, though. Thank you. I just need- another voice, I think.
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[He'll be a little surprised if it is. He would have thought a snake for a serpent like Sophia.]
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Yes. A few weeks ago. He's grown a lot since then.
I named him Rodan. I don't actually know that it's male, but we guessed, thanks to the feathers...
[The hawklike bird makes a little squawk, and shuffles around on his perch.]
He, um... he eats things. Things that we believed up. So we had to put the perch together out of real salvage, but it's at least not hard to feed him.
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Perhaps it's silly to ask, but I don't suppose he can speak? Or understand speech like the bookworms do, at least?
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Actually, yes. A little bit. He does a little mimicking. And, ah...
[He turned around slightly in his chair to face the bird, then whistles to get his attention. Then again, once the bird is looking at him.
After a few seconds, the bird chirps and lets out a shrill little "FUCK!"
Despite himself, Joseph lets out a shallow chuckle, then shakes his head.]
Can't get him to stop saying that. Sebastian...
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It's... it's certainly impressive. [Something like that.] I do hope he picks up a bit more vocabulary. I can imagine that being a touch awkward to come out in polite conversation. [Not that it had ever stopped Sebastian.]
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[Joseph slowly goes quiet. He brings his hand up to his face and covers the lower half of his face, closing his eyes and lowering his head slightly. His chest heaves once, twice, and he reaches up with his other hand to remove his glasses before rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand.]
God.
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It's all right. It's like Sebastian. That's a bit funny, isn't it? I'm sure we'll have Rodan with better manners before he gets back. He'll be terribly annoyed, I'm certain.
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For a cunning, manipulative murderer, he's really not a bad friend.]
I've always been able to follow him. Now I can't, and I...
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There are other ways to go, other candles to turn to... or we light our own, and move forward in the dark, the hand of someone else we'll have to lead clutched close. [He strokes gently down Joseph's side.] There are people here chasing your light, Joseph; you hold a candle that burns as bright as anything Sebastian held. You know the direction he was walking. It's just a little feeling your way out ahead. And you needn't walk any path alone. You know you have friends to turn to. I know you can do it.
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He takes a long, shaky breath.]
I don't know where you see any strength in me.
[He's stoic. He's serious. He pushes himself to help others above all other things. But Joseph has never chalked any of that up to his own strength. He always could have done more. He always could have done better. He was only fortunate to have learned from one of the best officers, the best detectives that the KCPD had ever seen.]
You and him both. He always trusted me so much. If you asked him, he'd say I could walk on water.
He'd say I was being crazy like this. He'd be horrified.
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[As someone who puts a desperate amount of work into not being idle or 'useless' himself, Monty can appreciate self-imposed impossible standards. Not that he'll acknowledge his own, but seeing them in others is easy enough.]
And it's charming in a way, but you'll tear yourself apart from the inside, Joseph. You needn't be perfect. I don't think I'd care much for a man who was. No one would. You're more complicated than perfection. And that's terrible and wonderful all at once.
You said you'd listen to what I said... I'd like you to let go. Just for five minutes. No more than that. There's no need to carry on in misery for an age, but for five - ten minutes at most, I'd like you to let yourself let go. I think I should be a bit disappointed if you can't manage that. And Sebastian would, as well. There's no danger to rescue anyone from. There's no fight to be had. There's a quite moment here in this room. Please make use of it.
[He's not sure if it's the right tactic to take, but giving permission doesn't seem to be breaking through. Perhaps ordering?
Monty slips his other arm behind Joseph's back. For someone he didn't know as well, this would be mortifying, but for Joseph, it's all right. He just hugs the other man to him and doesn't look up, doesn't try to cast any judgmental looks, however well-meaning.]
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He almost wants to snap that he didn't need permission to feel. He doesn't need permission to mourn or grieve or to forgive himself. Now if only it didn't seem like he actually did.
Covering his eyes with one hand, he rests that elbow on the table and just sits there for a moment, silently. Every so often his chest shudders, but otherwise, he doesn't let anything else slip.
Not quite what Monty was encouraging, maybe, but a start, at least.]
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I want to linger
a little longer,
a little longer here with you.
It's such a perfect night.
It doesn't seem quite right
That this should be my last with you.
We've had a lovely time,
partners we are in crime.
A pair, a set, not one but two.
You've made me stronger,
I'll last here longer
for all you gave - your friendship true.
And come December
I will remember
Our joys, our pains, our lows and highs.
And as the days go by,
I'll think of you and sigh
This is goodnight not goodbye.
I want to linger
a little longer
a little longer here with you.
[The music trails off along with Monty's voice. Perhaps that had been more absurd than comforting to a man who's never heard Monty sing his feelings before, but it's meant in the spirit to honor Sebastian, at least.]
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To say the least, the idea that the man can summon up his own musical accompaniment on command is... weird. But then again, look where they are.
The gesture, at least, is appreciated, even if Joseph doesn't move to react to it very much. He shakes his head at one point, then takes a few more slow breaths.
Eventually he slumps a little further, resting his arms on the table and pressing his forehead to them.]
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The gentleman just holds where he is, waiting for the detective to ask him to let go. Joseph had asked him to be a voice, so Monty does speak.]
We'll get him back like we got Ms. Oswald back. We'll maintain until then. You'll endure. You've managed the end of the world. You're certainly ready to handle this. He was your senior, wasn't he? He gave you the skills you need to keep going. And you, Joseph, you've brought drive and passion. I e faith in you, just like Detective Castellanos would.
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