He should have known better, he really should have known better. Assuming that Stephen Strange is going to let any sleeping dog lie was a fool's fucking errand. Nate barely manages to wrestle the annoyance down because he knows it isn't really warranted. ]
[ Said conversationally, the sound of clinking glass and ceramic in the background, getting on with little bits and pieces while he deals with something important. ]
[ Hold on, Nate has to briefly scroll back through their conversation to determine that he did not, in fact, truly respond to are you all right? He pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment before replying. ]
[ He stops short of did you know that?, because parroting words Nate's apologized for back at him at a time like this doesn't seem like a joke in good taste. That's direct avoidance number two. ]
I know you're handling it. I think you should consider not handling it for at least the rest of the day.
[ The heartless, breathless huff of a laugh that escapes him sounds strangled. "Not handling it" runs the risk of cracking him in a way he doesn't think he can presently sustain. ]
I told you we could keep him. It's not too late to send him back. [ To the bar. That sounds like a joke, but it isn't one. ] Or there are other places for you to be.
It's been a long few months, Nate.
[ Breathing space between catastrophes is precious. With every other week bringing something worse, sooner or later something's going to have to give. Something's going to be the straw that breaks his back if nothing's done to lighten the load. ]
[ It's hasty, defensive, hugging himself at the seams. He's never been very good at taking much-needed recovery time, always falling inelegantly from one disaster to the next, letting the rush fill the void and the bad jokes fill the traumatic silences.
Lance told him he should talk about it. Nate can't quite find the words. ]
...look, I can't sleep, so I'm just gonna go to the bar, or something.
[ There's a moment of quiet sitting in the ether, Stephen letting that statement rest and considering what to do with it. Another gentle click clack chime of something moved and put away. ]
Alright.
[ Not every conversation is a battleground and not every doctor is a therapist.
Doctor's orders? Friend's strong suggestion. ]
You know how to reach me.
[ The if there's anything you need goes left implied. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
@stephen.strange, during his convo with sam...
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[ Sorry, Nate. ]
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that why you were asking if i was all right? because he told you to park the car in harvard yard?
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He's here, has been for hours. You aren't.
[ He can only assume from the growing combination of factors that the reunion could've been happier. ]
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I'll keep him fed and watered. If you need any messages passed along, drop me a line.
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5 minutes later
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[ Hello and welcome to the land of the educated guess. ]
I'll let him know and we'll keep him here. Take all the time you need.
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something else
it's not important. i sent him the address to my place so he won't bother you for much longer.
talk to you later.
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Ring ring, Nate. ]
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He should have known better, he really should have known better. Assuming that Stephen Strange is going to let any sleeping dog lie was a fool's fucking errand. Nate barely manages to wrestle the annoyance down because he knows it isn't really warranted. ]
Fancy hearing from you.
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[ Said conversationally, the sound of clinking glass and ceramic in the background, getting on with little bits and pieces while he deals with something important. ]
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[ Hold on, Nate has to briefly scroll back through their conversation to determine that he did not, in fact, truly respond to are you all right? He pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment before replying. ]
I'm handling it.
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[ He stops short of did you know that?, because parroting words Nate's apologized for back at him at a time like this doesn't seem like a joke in good taste. That's direct avoidance number two. ]
I know you're handling it. I think you should consider not handling it for at least the rest of the day.
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Doctor's orders?
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[ There are instances when he's happy to be frivolous. This isn't one. ]
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[ It's soft, a little surprised. Like opening up a drawer and finding something you thought you misplaced years ago. ]
I'm not really in a good place to not handle it.
[ Physically. Sam's snoring on the couch in the living room and Nate is suffocating. ]
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It's been a long few months, Nate.
[ Breathing space between catastrophes is precious. With every other week bringing something worse, sooner or later something's going to have to give. Something's going to be the straw that breaks his back if nothing's done to lighten the load. ]
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[ It's hasty, defensive, hugging himself at the seams. He's never been very good at taking much-needed recovery time, always falling inelegantly from one disaster to the next, letting the rush fill the void and the bad jokes fill the traumatic silences.
Lance told him he should talk about it. Nate can't quite find the words. ]
...look, I can't sleep, so I'm just gonna go to the bar, or something.
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Alright.
[ Not every conversation is a battleground and not every doctor is a therapist.
Doctor's orders? Friend's strong suggestion. ]
You know how to reach me.
[ The if there's anything you need goes left implied. ]
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