[video]

[scotch_egg]

[when he appears he looks more like an unmade bed than usual. His eyes are red rimmed and bloodshot. There's an obvious hotel room behind him and more than one empty bottle of something someone with a heart condition really shouldn't be drinking-- and it shows]

Congratulations,

You win. You've got it all. Magic, reincarnation, astral fucking projection for all I know. You don't really belong in this normal world, you're not just another bloody sheep, you're something better. Something more.

Good for you and I hope it doesn't blow up in your bloody face.

'Bye.

[and he hangs up. Or at least covers the phone with his hand which is the same thing]

Comments

[scotch_egg]

[shit, he should have seen this coming. Shit, shit, shit. He tries to pull himself together]

Don't worry, M' fine, just drunk.

[traceofeffort]

[No one expects College Girl That Cares Too Much! ...which is a lot less dangerous than the Spanish Inquisition most of the time, mind, but she depends on that knowledge.]

You are not fine, you'd at least be home then, and not trying to leave what may as well be a damned farewell letter! What happened? Memories? Bureau morons? I will go kick someone's ass right now if I have to! Even if it's yours!

[scotch_egg]

I'm fine. Not everyone wants to stay at home all the time. [and he didn't want to get into this conversation. She was passionate and he could appreciate that but, God, was she loud.]

Nothing happened.

[less than nothing happened. He didn't want to think about it.]

[traceofeffort]

You can't expect be to believe that nothing happened and everything is fine. We can't go from opposite opinions about... this- [gesturing around her room, which probably implies Different stuff-] to the same opinion without me thinking something's wrong.

[scotch_egg]

Don't worry about it.

[He appreciated her concern, but there was nothing he could say or even tell her]

[traceofeffort]

Too late. I'm already worried. I'm always worried.

[scotch_egg]

I'm sorry.

[and he was, but he was tired of being pushed around by the concern of others. Tired of everyone hovering over him and nannying him to death. He could look after himself and make his own choices, as bloody stupid as they were]

Good night.

[and he'll end the call. She's welcome to message him but he probably won't answer]

disconnected;

[traceofeffort]

[She almost doesn't believe it when he hangs up, shaking her monitor like an idiot.]

No. No, no, no, how dare you, you asshole! We're not done!

[But she doesn't try to call back. Not that she can when her roommate busts in asking who just dumped her and she has to scramble to run damage control, but either way, she's fuming. She'll remember this.]