[The 'we need to talk' invokes a reaction like a deer in headlight, a mortifying thought he's done something irreparably wrong. But then Connor looks to the desk, where his whiskey is, and he loosely patches together what Connor might mean.]
I didn't want to hurt myself. I was just-... Sometimes people are going to get sad, Connor. You can't always fix it. I'm better than I was.
[He thinks he's better than he was, anyway.]
[He goes to the bedroom, then, sitting at the edge of the bed. Tubbs looks up from his dramatic rug position at the foot of it, but makes no noises. Just moves his eyes and continues heating the room for them.]
I try not to bring you down with it. I know it does. I want you to be happy, though. After all that fucking shit you put up with, you deserve to be treated like a hero.
[God all the pokemon are fucking watching this. There's a Raichu on the bed. There's a giant Arcanine warming his feet. There's a Magnezone with a worried looking fairy hanging onto his antennae.]
This is really fucking hard. I hate talking about it.
[He's used to not being listened to. Opening up and having someone immediately disregard it means he just plain doesn't like to share his personal concerns now.]
You're a human and you like it here. I don't but I can still find good things about this place. Stuff that at least keeps me going. I mean... I like the food. I like the fresh air. I like the monsters. That stuff is fine. You never got anything good out of being at home. I can't ask you to think about Detroit with any sort of good feelings, not like I have. And you're young. You can have a whole career in front of you, with this trainer thing. I'm just this old crotchety dead weight and you should be having the best years of your life. Realistically I know you'd be better off without me holding you back but...
[He looks over at Connor.]
...
[Yup, he's trying. Give him a moment.]
...I love you a lot, and there's no one else in my life I want more. So I feel guilty.
[He takes one of Hank's hands, looking at him earnestly.]
You're not dead weight, Hank. You keep me going. Knowing that I have you to come home to every day makes me happy. I don't want to imagine life without that.
[Even here, with all of his Pokemon, he'd feel alone without Hank.]
I'm just sorry that you don't like it here much. Is there anything in particular that is making it hard for you to adjust? Anything I can help with?
[Hank looks down at the hands over his, examining those delicate fingers. It means a lot to hear that, but there's a hateful part of him that wants to insist that there are other, better people for Connor to come home to.]
Imagine losing faith, Connor. Just completely losing all hope in everything. Then one day you meet this little shit who just decides that he can fuckin' wreck his way through to what he wants. You watch one man start a revolution, stand in front of the whole world and say that his people are people, and they want freedom. You see this new asshole you just met raise an actual army. You're there for it. After you spent so many years thinking you would never be able to change anything trying hard to anyway, you finally get to see this happening and that people can decide to become the best and most understanding version of themselves.
It's not about adjustment. It's-
[He notices Connie has climbed off the Magnezone and is about to pull herself up onto the bed too. She mutters some more Flos, wanting to know what he's talking about because it sounds like a good story.]
[That's a hard sentence to hear.] I mean that much to you? [A genuine question in his voice, despite having seen the moment where Connor chose him over that army that he'd first mentioned.]
[But he considers.]
Eh... sort of? Like, I miss being a cop. But let's be real. I gave that up back home so even if I did go home, that's fuckin' gone. And don't blame yourself. If I had to work for a department that fuckin' sent a man to death for failing at a case or wanted me to enforce slavery, then nah. I didn't want to be there anymore.
But it's watching the world become better, too. Watching people become better. And here... I don't know. It feels a little Pleasantville- which was this movie, right? Set in the suburbs. A brother and a sister end up in this town and the brother loves it because it's idyllic but everything is in black and white. The sister, though, she goes around and does little things, introduces people to new stuff, and whatever she touches gains color.
But I don't think me giving color to this place would be a good thing... Which is a metaphor, by the way.
[Connor's brows crease in mild confusion at the metaphor, but he tries his best to understand.]
I'm not sure there's anything I can do about that, Hank. And I know you're not asking me to, but I want to help. I just... I don't know how.
[He leans against him though, eyes on the floor.]
If leaving here would make you happy... I'd do it for you.
[He'd face going back home and being treated like garbage if it meant Hank felt better about things. He has no doubt that they'd end up together again eventually. He'd just miss everything else.]
I'd not... I'd not ask you, to leave here. I can't ask you to go back to that. This place gives you a chance to learn that you can get second chances to get things right if you don't make it perfect the first time, and it shows you that you can take it slow, and it's safe. No one is going to treat you badly.
That's why I don't talk about it with you.
If it came down to some sort of magical bullshit choice, I'd ask you to stay and take care of everything and I'd go back. And I'd throw however many punches it took, or pull however many guns necessary, or travel however far I needed to to make sure someone like you wasn't treated like dirt again. And if it were you there, I'd do that for you.
[He promises Connor that, and puts his arm around him.] You have helped. Humans are just... slow to fix. We're not immediately happy. We take some time.
Hank, life here is so pleasant for me because I have you. If you left, I wouldn't be happy anymore. I'd rather go back to Detroit.
[At least he'd have Hank if he went back. Still, he's sorry that Hank feels like he can't talk about it with him. And he's sorrier still that he can't even do anything to help, despite Hank insisting that he's already helped.
He goes quiet, which is rare for him. Usually, he feels the need to fill the silence with something. Right now though, there's nothing he can say.]
[Welp, that's the last thing Hank wanted to do, and that was to break Connor. But here he is, with Connor's silence feeling like a lead weight. It could drag them both down and drown them, it feels so heavy.]
[Hank puts his other hand over the ones holding his.]
Sorry, Connor. I'll talk to you more in the future. [Which feels really fucking weak.] I just... [didn't want to make him feel exactly like this?] ...I just got hung up on the idea you deserved better and fucked up.
[He remains silent for a little longer, because he still doesn't know what to say. Then he sighs, sitting back upright again.]
It's my fault. I should have seen how unhappy you are.
[He should have known better than to think he could just fix it if he loved him enough. That's not how things work. And Hank carrying that sadness alone must have made it even worse.]
If there's ever the choice to leave, we'll take it.
Connor, Connor wait- It's no one's fault I'm unhappy.
[He pulls his hands toward him.] That's been the point, right? I had to fuckin' get over myself and accept that I couldn't blame anyone for my unhappiness. That shit happened. Even the doctor that fucked up, he was a symptom of a bigger problem. [Drug use, and the shitty environments that drove people to it.] I don't want you to blame yourself. I don't want to blame anyone.
[Except himself, sometimes. But in this case, he can admit his fuck up with the will to make it better.]
And right now, as long as we're staying, I'm gonna keep helping you. You need a chance to meet your own goals.... Hold on. Let me check the time.
[He lets go then, to go see the hour. Just after midnight. Just late enough, he supposes. The transition to Valentine's Day is there, and it feels stupid to sleep feeling like this.]
Here. [He finds his gift and jams them at Connor.] Get dressed in something warm and put these on. [He gives him a wrapped box, a portion of his Valentine's day present.] In the meantime, he goes and does a hopscotch dance over various Pokemon trying to remain inconspicuous to make his way back to how own clothing to change into.
[Connor looks down at the box, pulling the boots out curiously. He doesn't answer right away though, he just starts to button up his shirt again and finds a warm sweater to put on. When he's dressed he slips the shoes on, and sort of walks in place a few times to test the fit.]
I'm ready.
[He's still gloomy, but his curiosity has gotten the better of him for the most part.]
Outside. Too cold to be directly on the beach, but I was going to take you somewhere near it.
[He offers his hand to Connors, though not taking it this time. He wants the man to feel like the invitation is open but he can keep to himself if he needs to.]
I've got a few other presents for you. I meant to give them after it was light out, but I feel like it would be better now.
[With all the earnestness who panicked when he saw Connie cry, he has the same amount of dread for the silence Connor's been carrying with him. He makes sure that he has the wrapped box of chocolates by the time they're at the door.]
[He waits for Connor to get his gifts if he wants. He figures now will be the best time to engage them, though mostly he wants to show Connor that he really does care. Yes, he's looking back at the past again, but it doesn't have to be all bad.]
[Snow from two days ago is still laying on the ground when he opens the door. Slush on the streets, but in nice pokemon printed drifts along their lawn and neighboring lawns. He leads Connor out, guiding him towards the beach. It might be a bit of a walk, but they'll get to the overlook he's thinking of eventually. All the walking from location to location has at least made him faster.]
[If Connor wants to remain silent, he'll let him. Maybe the thinking will help (if he doesn't think with the heaviness Hank is prone to).]
[He lets go of Hank's hand again so he can grab his gifts, all of them meticulously wrapped in holographic paper with hearts on. Then he tucks them under his arm and takes Hank's hand, letting him lead him out into the night.
It's cold, but he's wrapped up warm. Crockett tries to follow, but gets stuck at the doorway and makes a few sad beeping noises. It can't follow unless Connor puts it inside its ball and lets it out again on the other side of the door. Connor was intending to leave it behind for tonight, but hearing how unhappy it sounds makes him sigh and let it come with them.]
Crockett won't interfere. It knows better.
[It's probably just concerned for Connor, sensing his low mood.]
[He's not about to tell Connor to leave behind something that might make him feel better, even if his first inclination is to wonder why, for god knows what reason, he'd thought they'd be doing this alone. Best case scenario and some pokemon would have followed them.]
[It would be funny if he weren't so worried.]
[He finds a decent place, higher up so there's a good wide view of the beach. Not so high up that they can enjoy night lights of a city; a favorite of his, maybe not so much for Connor though. And he sets down his Pokegear in the snow, the tinny speakers on it playing some jazz songs he'd bought.]
[Look, he managed to figure out one technological thing.]
[He turns to Connor and starts to assume the dance position, before he realizes, wait, it's very cold, and Connor's hands are still very skinny.]
Here, you lead. [He tells him to, because it means he can put Connor's hands on his waist, tucked into the folds of his coat where they'll be warm closer to Hank's skin.]
[He doesn't mind the city lights. They're pretty. And the whole setting is really quite romantic, even with Crockett hovering nearby. The Magnezone seems more interested in looking at the scenery, though.
Connor places his hands on Hank's waist and looks up at him as they start to dance slowly. He still looks unhappy, his mind stuck on the conversation they just had, but he soon presses closer. He doesn't want to dwell on negative things today.
He's still quiet, though. At a loss of what to say.]
[He puts one arm loosely on Connor's shoulder and the other at the back of his neck and pulls him close. He has to be more careful of where their feet are, but he concentrates on not stepping on his toes as he holds him close.]
I do love you, Connor, for what that's worth. I guess I wanna help, too.
But if you want to be sad for a little while, that's okay too. I'll be right here, still loving you, alright?
I uh... am sorry you found out about this today, though. I planned for a while to make it good. I guess I've figured out you can't do very good surprises with Pokemon around, huh?
[He rubs the back of his neck and leans his cheek against the side of Connor's head.]
[He holds Hank tighter to himself, toying with the cloth of his shirt.]
...Of course I don't want to be sad.
[Connor can't imagine ever wanting to feel this way. Still, Hank's words are somewhat soothing. He wants desperately to focus on the fact that Hank loves him, not the fact that Hank doesn't like it here and wants to leave.]
I don't really mean it that way. I mean that I don't want you to force yourself to smile when you're not feeling it.
[He rubs the back of his neck some more.]
I don't have much of a choice in having time here, but I do have a choice in wanting it to be with you. And I want it to be with you when I go back. You're the partner I want no matter where I am.
You know I am happy with you here. I might not like this place so much, but that doesn't mean I'm not happy with you. I just fuckin'... I guess that's tough to describe, huh? [He rubs behind Connor's ear lightly.]
Don't apologize. You had every right to be. I just hate being the reason you feel bad. I was hoping I'd get it right.
[And he feels like he gets it wrong more often than not.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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I didn't want to hurt myself. I was just-... Sometimes people are going to get sad, Connor. You can't always fix it. I'm better than I was.
[He thinks he's better than he was, anyway.]
[He goes to the bedroom, then, sitting at the edge of the bed. Tubbs looks up from his dramatic rug position at the foot of it, but makes no noises. Just moves his eyes and continues heating the room for them.]
I try not to bring you down with it. I know it does. I want you to be happy, though. After all that fucking shit you put up with, you deserve to be treated like a hero.
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I don't want you to treat me like a hero, Hank. I want you to tell me when something is wrong.
[He sits beside him, hands in his lap.]
I want us to talk about it. Even if it'll bring me down.
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This is really fucking hard. I hate talking about it.
[He's used to not being listened to. Opening up and having someone immediately disregard it means he just plain doesn't like to share his personal concerns now.]
You're a human and you like it here. I don't but I can still find good things about this place. Stuff that at least keeps me going. I mean... I like the food. I like the fresh air. I like the monsters. That stuff is fine. You never got anything good out of being at home. I can't ask you to think about Detroit with any sort of good feelings, not like I have. And you're young. You can have a whole career in front of you, with this trainer thing. I'm just this old crotchety dead weight and you should be having the best years of your life. Realistically I know you'd be better off without me holding you back but...
[He looks over at Connor.]
...
[Yup, he's trying. Give him a moment.]
...I love you a lot, and there's no one else in my life I want more. So I feel guilty.
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You're not dead weight, Hank. You keep me going. Knowing that I have you to come home to every day makes me happy. I don't want to imagine life without that.
[Even here, with all of his Pokemon, he'd feel alone without Hank.]
I'm just sorry that you don't like it here much. Is there anything in particular that is making it hard for you to adjust? Anything I can help with?
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Imagine losing faith, Connor. Just completely losing all hope in everything. Then one day you meet this little shit who just decides that he can fuckin' wreck his way through to what he wants. You watch one man start a revolution, stand in front of the whole world and say that his people are people, and they want freedom. You see this new asshole you just met raise an actual army. You're there for it. After you spent so many years thinking you would never be able to change anything trying hard to anyway, you finally get to see this happening and that people can decide to become the best and most understanding version of themselves.
It's not about adjustment. It's-
[He notices Connie has climbed off the Magnezone and is about to pull herself up onto the bed too. She mutters some more Flos, wanting to know what he's talking about because it sounds like a good story.]
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I don't know what that's like. The closest I can imagine to losing faith is if I lost you.
[He squeezes the hand in his.]
Is it a lack of purpose, then?
[The feeling that he isn't contributing to the world?]
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[But he considers.]
Eh... sort of? Like, I miss being a cop. But let's be real. I gave that up back home so even if I did go home, that's fuckin' gone. And don't blame yourself. If I had to work for a department that fuckin' sent a man to death for failing at a case or wanted me to enforce slavery, then nah. I didn't want to be there anymore.
But it's watching the world become better, too. Watching people become better. And here... I don't know. It feels a little Pleasantville- which was this movie, right? Set in the suburbs. A brother and a sister end up in this town and the brother loves it because it's idyllic but everything is in black and white. The sister, though, she goes around and does little things, introduces people to new stuff, and whatever she touches gains color.
But I don't think me giving color to this place would be a good thing... Which is a metaphor, by the way.
[It's hit or miss whether Connor gets stuff.]
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[Connor's brows crease in mild confusion at the metaphor, but he tries his best to understand.]
I'm not sure there's anything I can do about that, Hank. And I know you're not asking me to, but I want to help. I just... I don't know how.
[He leans against him though, eyes on the floor.]
If leaving here would make you happy... I'd do it for you.
[He'd face going back home and being treated like garbage if it meant Hank felt better about things. He has no doubt that they'd end up together again eventually. He'd just miss everything else.]
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That's why I don't talk about it with you.
If it came down to some sort of magical bullshit choice, I'd ask you to stay and take care of everything and I'd go back. And I'd throw however many punches it took, or pull however many guns necessary, or travel however far I needed to to make sure someone like you wasn't treated like dirt again. And if it were you there, I'd do that for you.
[He promises Connor that, and puts his arm around him.] You have helped. Humans are just... slow to fix. We're not immediately happy. We take some time.
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[At least he'd have Hank if he went back. Still, he's sorry that Hank feels like he can't talk about it with him. And he's sorrier still that he can't even do anything to help, despite Hank insisting that he's already helped.
He goes quiet, which is rare for him. Usually, he feels the need to fill the silence with something. Right now though, there's nothing he can say.]
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[Hank puts his other hand over the ones holding his.]
Sorry, Connor. I'll talk to you more in the future. [Which feels really fucking weak.] I just... [didn't want to make him feel exactly like this?] ...I just got hung up on the idea you deserved better and fucked up.
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It's my fault. I should have seen how unhappy you are.
[He should have known better than to think he could just fix it if he loved him enough. That's not how things work. And Hank carrying that sadness alone must have made it even worse.]
If there's ever the choice to leave, we'll take it.
[And that's the best Connor can do.]
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[He pulls his hands toward him.] That's been the point, right? I had to fuckin' get over myself and accept that I couldn't blame anyone for my unhappiness. That shit happened. Even the doctor that fucked up, he was a symptom of a bigger problem. [Drug use, and the shitty environments that drove people to it.] I don't want you to blame yourself. I don't want to blame anyone.
[Except himself, sometimes. But in this case, he can admit his fuck up with the will to make it better.]
And right now, as long as we're staying, I'm gonna keep helping you. You need a chance to meet your own goals.... Hold on. Let me check the time.
[He lets go then, to go see the hour. Just after midnight. Just late enough, he supposes. The transition to Valentine's Day is there, and it feels stupid to sleep feeling like this.]
Here. [He finds his gift and jams them at Connor.] Get dressed in something warm and put these on. [He gives him a wrapped box, a portion of his Valentine's day present.] In the meantime, he goes and does a hopscotch dance over various Pokemon trying to remain inconspicuous to make his way back to how own clothing to change into.
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I'm ready.
[He's still gloomy, but his curiosity has gotten the better of him for the most part.]
Where are we going?
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[He offers his hand to Connors, though not taking it this time. He wants the man to feel like the invitation is open but he can keep to himself if he needs to.]
I've got a few other presents for you. I meant to give them after it was light out, but I feel like it would be better now.
[With all the earnestness who panicked when he saw Connie cry, he has the same amount of dread for the silence Connor's been carrying with him. He makes sure that he has the wrapped box of chocolates by the time they're at the door.]
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Should I give you yours, too?
[If they're exchanging presents now, he can go get his and they can open them together.]
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[He waits for Connor to get his gifts if he wants. He figures now will be the best time to engage them, though mostly he wants to show Connor that he really does care. Yes, he's looking back at the past again, but it doesn't have to be all bad.]
[Snow from two days ago is still laying on the ground when he opens the door. Slush on the streets, but in nice pokemon printed drifts along their lawn and neighboring lawns. He leads Connor out, guiding him towards the beach. It might be a bit of a walk, but they'll get to the overlook he's thinking of eventually. All the walking from location to location has at least made him faster.]
[If Connor wants to remain silent, he'll let him. Maybe the thinking will help (if he doesn't think with the heaviness Hank is prone to).]
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It's cold, but he's wrapped up warm. Crockett tries to follow, but gets stuck at the doorway and makes a few sad beeping noises. It can't follow unless Connor puts it inside its ball and lets it out again on the other side of the door. Connor was intending to leave it behind for tonight, but hearing how unhappy it sounds makes him sigh and let it come with them.]
Crockett won't interfere. It knows better.
[It's probably just concerned for Connor, sensing his low mood.]
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[He's not about to tell Connor to leave behind something that might make him feel better, even if his first inclination is to wonder why, for god knows what reason, he'd thought they'd be doing this alone. Best case scenario and some pokemon would have followed them.]
[It would be funny if he weren't so worried.]
[He finds a decent place, higher up so there's a good wide view of the beach. Not so high up that they can enjoy night lights of a city; a favorite of his, maybe not so much for Connor though. And he sets down his Pokegear in the snow, the tinny speakers on it playing some jazz songs he'd bought.]
[Look, he managed to figure out one technological thing.]
[He turns to Connor and starts to assume the dance position, before he realizes, wait, it's very cold, and Connor's hands are still very skinny.]
Here, you lead. [He tells him to, because it means he can put Connor's hands on his waist, tucked into the folds of his coat where they'll be warm closer to Hank's skin.]
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Connor places his hands on Hank's waist and looks up at him as they start to dance slowly. He still looks unhappy, his mind stuck on the conversation they just had, but he soon presses closer. He doesn't want to dwell on negative things today.
He's still quiet, though. At a loss of what to say.]
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I do love you, Connor, for what that's worth. I guess I wanna help, too.
But if you want to be sad for a little while, that's okay too. I'll be right here, still loving you, alright?
I uh... am sorry you found out about this today, though. I planned for a while to make it good. I guess I've figured out you can't do very good surprises with Pokemon around, huh?
[He rubs the back of his neck and leans his cheek against the side of Connor's head.]
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...Of course I don't want to be sad.
[Connor can't imagine ever wanting to feel this way. Still, Hank's words are somewhat soothing. He wants desperately to focus on the fact that Hank loves him, not the fact that Hank doesn't like it here and wants to leave.]
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[He rubs the back of his neck some more.]
I don't have much of a choice in having time here, but I do have a choice in wanting it to be with you. And I want it to be with you when I go back. You're the partner I want no matter where I am.
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As long as I'm with you, I don't mind where I am. When we go back, I know I'll still be happy if we're together.
[But he'd rather be here with Hank, if he had the choice.]
I'm sorry for getting emotional.
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Don't apologize. You had every right to be. I just hate being the reason you feel bad. I was hoping I'd get it right.
[And he feels like he gets it wrong more often than not.]
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