rising_tide | IC Contact post

Oh, hey.

Breaks, like, how?

Um, like the day I got into magical grad school was also one of the days I got out of the Midtown mental health clinic.

Oh, shit. That blows.

...Are you telling me this because you're decidedly not okay?

Um, so there was this thing that happened in another timeline, in my world? Eliot and I were married for like, fifty years, and we had a, a son [his voice breaks on the word "son"] and, um, then we came back and Eliot didn't want me.

[Whatever's going on, he's obviously got a lot to get out of his head.]

Oh.

Shit.

Okay.

That. Sounds like a lot.

Um, so then I came here? And he...he wasn't, like, actively pushing me away, but he obviously didn't want to like, be particularly deep about it which was fine, you know, I can obviously fuck someone without getting up in my feelings, even, even if he's the...the love of my goddamn...

[He can't seem to make himself say it.] But a couple months ago I guess he left and came back really fast because he had no memory of being here and he was...different? He was so happy to see me.

Oh, hon. [ She doesn't even mean to say that, honestly, cause he's clearly trying to get something out and she doesn't want to interrupt him too much. She can't help it though. Babe. Sweetie. Honey. Darlin'. ]

Um, he...I mean it wasn't immediate and we fucked it up a couple times because I didn't really feel like I had the capacity to deal with fucking him and how different he was at the same time but after the fuck tent we...we talked it out and...um, he wanted... [It's getting harder, it can be heard in his voice that he's kinda tumbling down the hill toward crying.] He, he wants...he said, he asked...

[The last bit comes out small and miserable.] I think he's in the lake.

Oh, hon.

Is his stuff still here? His name's in the tome?

Yeah. He's not gone gone. But I can't find him anywhere.

Then, yeah, he's probably in the lake, and he'll be back.

What do you need? Do you need a drink, something to hit, hugs, crying, yelling at the sky? Set things on fire? Break shit?

God, this is so fucking stupid. I've been, I managed my shit for like, eight months before this version of him got here and now it's been like five weeks and it's like I can't fucking, fucking be a person without him.

Hey, no, yes you can. You can. You just need some help. It's okay to need help.

I guess.

I don't wanna be in here. My bed smells like him and there's stuff everywhere. His stuff.

Come to my place. Or we'll break into an empty room. Or we'll get the fuck out of the castle and get you a room in one of the taverns.

Okay. I'll come over.

Okay.

Have you eaten anything?

Um. Can't remember. Don't think so.

Are you allergic to or have an aversion to eggs?

No, eggs are fine.

There are, uh.

[Yeah okay no he's not really feeling prepared to admit to everything just yet. He can go to Staxx if that's what she's thinking, it's fine, it doesn't matter that it'll just make him think of Eliot.] Nevermind.

[ THANKFULLY no, she has a little kitchenette in her room. ] Okay, good, because eggs and toast are about all I can make. They won't be spectacular but they'll be food that you can put in your body and keep it alive.

[Oh, phew. Sanity and dignity intact. He sounds a little relieved:] Okay. I'll be there soon.

Okay.

It took Quentin a little longer than Daisy might expect to get dressed and get himself to her, but twenty minutes or so later, he arrived at her door, knocking. God, he was tired. He'd slept last night, he was...pretty sure. Why was he so tired?

Daisy (wearing actual pants, wow) opened the door a few seconds later and immediately pulled Quentin in for a firm hug. She honestly wasn't sure how to help, in fact she was pretty sure there just wasn't, like anything anyone could do to actually help, but a good hard hug sometimes helped her when she felt like she was in pieces.

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