[Chuck hates the nightmares. Hates that it makes him feel weak, hates that he can't control it, hates that Raleigh sees him like that, like the scars aren't enough, but at the same time, he's so. Thankful that Raleigh's there, that he's not alone.
It's a mess, it's a right mess, he's a mess and it's been two years since Pitfall but Chuck hasn't gone anywhere. Not really, he's drifting without the Drift, making do but he hasn't... got a purpose anymore. He's not-- a pilot, there's nothing to fight and Chuck was never that good at building things, just breaking shit and.
The drivesuits weren't built to withstand nuclear bombs and the mind was not made to deal with the trauma of it well and most of the time, it's fine, he's fine, he can spend an evening with Raleigh, talking about absolutely nothing and then it's not. Suddenly it's not fine.
Years of living with kaiju alarms and on military bases means that he's the lightest sleeper, that when Raleigh shoves his shoulder, he wakes up, breathing hard and fast and if he pushes down hard on Raleigh's shoulder, like he's still caught in the dream and he can stop fire with his hand, yeah that makes a lot of fucking sense. Chuck's not mad at Raleigh, not at all but he's mad at himself enough that he's going to take it out on him anyway.]
[ The two of them have woken up like this too many times for Raleigh to count now, bodies seized with drift flashes, synapses firing memories of either snow or flame. It’s standard procedure for Raleigh to wait it out with Chuck until Chuck’s brain stop burning, until Chuck stops shoving down on Raleigh like it’ll help him forget, wincing and curling in a little with the pain of the panicked, insistent weight of Chuck’s hand on his bad shoulder.
Raleigh used to be ashamed about this, too. He used to avoid Chuck when it would happen, waiting it out on his own until his body could stop recollecting the combined terror of his brother’s death and flying through a burning alien sky, but he’s had five years of experience longer than Chuck to adjust to his traumas. Chuck’s are mostly new, still fresh.
So Raleigh doesn’t rise to the bait, but only allows Chuck take it out on him, relaxing as best as he can under Chuck's weight. Raleigh reaches above him with a tentative hand, rubbing his thumb fleetingly into the little hollow behind Chuck’s ear, cupping his cheek, brief. ]
Hey, breathe. You looked like you weren't doin' so good, so I woke you, okay?
[Chuck honestly didn't even know for the longest time that Raleigh was still struggling with what happened off Anchorage. Because he never asked and he never took the time to think outside of his own problems to think that Raleigh was still suffering from his, that he had his own baggage to lug around and it wasn't all about Chuck (even though it should be because he's awesome) and his issues.
They're different in that Raleigh draws into himself when he's hurting and Chuck lashes out and takes down everything within a certain radius of him.
Which is why he brushes Raleigh's hand away from his face as he sits up, needing space or air or something because is it hot in here? Or is that just him? No it's the fire and the blankets and the fact that Raleigh's like a fucking oven and Chuck is a purebred Australian but sometimes a man needs some cool air. Space to breathe.]
[ Nightmares are just something you learn to live with; a gift from your time being a Jaeger pilot, like the circuitry scars. Piloting is, secondary to killing monsters, like a test on how much trauma the human mind can carry, to see if the total of Chuck's history and final moments in the Conn-Pod will let monsters claw through the fissure in his brain. Raleigh’s still in the process of beating back his, it’s true, but sometimes – Chuck needs it to be all about him.
Like now. Raleigh gets it, so he only sits up, blankets falling away from their bodies to heap over their legs, the floor. The last thing in the world Chuck probably needs right now is someone babying him, but he doesn’t want to leave Chuck alone like this, either.
No, that would be a bad idea. Raleigh scrubs a hand over his face and starts getting up from the couch. ] I’m gonna get us some water. You should drink something.
[ It helps keep the bile down, wash away the taste on his tongue, if anything else. ]
[No actually, Raleigh is doing the perfect thing, in not babying him or trying to mother him or anything like that. But leaving would be just as detrimental, even if he'd never admit to it, never say that he needs Raleigh and he needs him badly.
It's a point of pride, to be independent and not have to rely on anyone and he's okay with lying to himself about it.]
Okay. Fine. Fuck, I'm opening a window, it's too hot in here.
[ Someday, Chuck might learn to open up with Raleigh and see the burden he carries as anything but shameful. Raleigh's stopped running from Chuck a long time time ago, but then again -- his dreams aren't as frequent as Chuck's.
It's a process, and Raleigh isn't planning on doing any pushing. Chuck's like a skittered animal; he'll come around in time, and the hard lines of tension in his profile don't welcome the sort of care Raleigh's aching to give him in this moment. ]
Go ahead.
[ He touches Chuck's shoulder in passing, more of an instinctual afterthought of care than anything planned, and pads his way into the kitchen. There, he grabs a glass from the counter and pours Chuck some water. ]
[Good for you, Ray, but they're not the same person.
His shoulder burns where Raleigh touches it, he's just-- it's too hot, there's too much heat in here, the fire is threatening to engulf him again. Chuck things himself to be a rather tough guy, to swallow his feelings and not give anything away and maybe that's why this is so hard for him to deal with.
Chuck throws the window open and leans against it, for once Alaska works in his favor and it's nice. It's cool. It's how it should be. There's no fire, there's no danger, he's not going to burn alive.
He spends nearly a minute there before he feels more human, more like himself again and he can wander towards the kitchen.]
[ Raleigh's in the middle of pouring himself a cup of water too, when his gaze wanders out across the living room to spot where Chuck's standing by the open window. Very quickly, he looks back at the glass in his hand. The need to go over there is strong enough without him looking at Chuck, too.
When Chuck wanders into the kitchen, Raleigh's proffers up a glass of ice water. ] Drink the whole glass, and I'll get you something stronger.
[It really, really is not Raleigh's fault that he's being so difficult but it's so, so easy to take his stress out on him anyway. To snap and snarl and push because Raleigh can take it. He doesn't just roll over and cry, he stands his ground and it's really fucking annoying when he does it.
[ He knows how to play it, because they've done this song and dance so many times that it's all muscle memory, now, for Raleigh to shove back when Chuck takes it out on him. In a pointed move, Raleigh steps between Chuck and the cabinet where they keep their liquor.
The glass is still outstretched. It's not a necessity for Chuck to drink water, but Raleigh's pushing it all the same. ]
You're not touching anything until you finish this.
[No, it's not necessary that he drink any water and Chuck knows it and he just wants to be as contrary as possible with him right now. Say go left and he'll go right because of the pure fact that it's not what you said to do, even if it makes life more difficult for him. Because at least then he will have made his own fucking choice and no one, not even his fucked up head has any power over him.]
[ Chuck could easily step around him, but he won't -- he'll push at Raleigh until Raleigh gives in and moves aside, because that's what Chuck does when he's like this, even if he doesn't enjoy doing it. Raleigh just clutches the glass a little harder and grits his teeth, hard enough to ache a little, because he doesn't want to do this, either. He knows how to push back, stand his ground, dig his heels in to get what he's asking for, but he doesn't like the necessity of it.
Chuck could go around him but why do that when he could just go through him, even if it is a little bit more work, it's a lot more satisfactory to grab Raleigh by the collar of his shirt and push him back, back until he hits the counter.]
[ Water spills out all over his hand as he's shoved backwards, but Raleigh ignores it, setting the half-full glass aside on the counter to grab the hand closed around the collar of his shirt.
Raleigh doesn't try to pry the fingers away, but he keeps up his glare. ] You're gonna have to make me.
[ Nevermind that Chuck kind of already did. Raleigh digs his back in against the counter; he's not moving anywhere. ]
[Why do you always have to be such a prick, Raleigh. A constant pain in the ass (not the good kind). Maybe if Chuck were a better person, he'd feel bad about taking his anger out on Raleigh, when he's really just angry at himself for being so fucking loser but he's not. A better person, that is.
This is who he is. Someone who pushes everyone he loves away as hard as he fucking can, purely for the sake of it. Because he can. Because it's something he controls.
Chuck makes a disgusted noise, throwing Raleigh's hand off and giving him a little shove before he steps back-- and then around him to reach for the cabinet.]
Raleigh doesn't budge or try to make it easier for Chuck to step around him
at first, but he grips the counter behind him harder and exhales all at
once, hating the anger that's still -- even after all this time -- an
instinctual response to Chuck's aggression. Chuck plays him easier than
anyone he's ever met.
Raleigh turns towards Chuck, finally moving away from the cabinet, if only
to look at him better. ] Chuck, look --
[ Raleigh tilts his head back to avoid getting poked in the face, but he fixes Chuck with a hard stare around Chuck's finger, only just barely refraining from batting it away.
The frantic fervor of Chuck's anger both desperate and pointless. Raleigh is gearing towards anger too, if he's not there already, but for all the wrong, selfish reasons. Raleigh tries calming himself. He's gritted his teeth up until now, but he gentles his tone. ] You gotta know that's not gonna help.
[Good. Maybe Chuck wants him to be angry, maybe he wants a good, solid fight from him because there's no one else that pushes back like Raleigh does and he likes that.
He glares at Raleigh as he unscrews the top of the bottle and following in his partner's shining example, takes a drink from it.]
[ He almost withstands it - holding still as if to not startle himself into emotion again but, at the last second, his face tightens and gives way to anger. Chuck has no right --
He does, perhaps, but. For the first time tonight, Raleigh wants to put distance between him and Chuck, and even Raleigh knows that would be a bad idea. He doesn't know what the best idea is, here.
Tearing that bottle from Chuck's hands isn't one of them, but he flexes his hands behind his back anyway. ] We're all fucking experts.
[It's what Chuck is aiming for. To push and push hard until Raleigh fights back. He likes it when Raleigh fights him, as sadistic as that sounds but he also knows exactly where to hit when he wants to hurt someone. So he takes a drink and rolls his eyes.]
[ He's just -- tired of it, the same song and dance they do every time this happens. It's not necessary, is the thing. Chuck knows it's not.
Chuck doesn't want Raleigh to help him, would rather push Raleigh away before letting that happen, and it's that, more than the barbed comment Chuck throws at his way, that has Raleigh pulling his lips over a snarl and shoving past Chuck, away from the counter, just. Away from him.
If Chuck's looking for a fight, he's gonna have to throw the first punch, because Raleigh sure as hell isn't feeling charitable tonight. ]
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no subject
It's a mess, it's a right mess, he's a mess and it's been two years since Pitfall but Chuck hasn't gone anywhere. Not really, he's drifting without the Drift, making do but he hasn't... got a purpose anymore. He's not-- a pilot, there's nothing to fight and Chuck was never that good at building things, just breaking shit and.
The drivesuits weren't built to withstand nuclear bombs and the mind was not made to deal with the trauma of it well and most of the time, it's fine, he's fine, he can spend an evening with Raleigh, talking about absolutely nothing and then it's not. Suddenly it's not fine.
Years of living with kaiju alarms and on military bases means that he's the lightest sleeper, that when Raleigh shoves his shoulder, he wakes up, breathing hard and fast and if he pushes down hard on Raleigh's shoulder, like he's still caught in the dream and he can stop fire with his hand, yeah that makes a lot of fucking sense. Chuck's not mad at Raleigh, not at all but he's mad at himself enough that he's going to take it out on him anyway.]
What?
no subject
Raleigh used to be ashamed about this, too. He used to avoid Chuck when it would happen, waiting it out on his own until his body could stop recollecting the combined terror of his brother’s death and flying through a burning alien sky, but he’s had five years of experience longer than Chuck to adjust to his traumas. Chuck’s are mostly new, still fresh.
So Raleigh doesn’t rise to the bait, but only allows Chuck take it out on him, relaxing as best as he can under Chuck's weight. Raleigh reaches above him with a tentative hand, rubbing his thumb fleetingly into the little hollow behind Chuck’s ear, cupping his cheek, brief. ]
Hey, breathe. You looked like you weren't doin' so good, so I woke you, okay?
no subject
They're different in that Raleigh draws into himself when he's hurting and
Chuck lashes out and takes down everything within a certain radius of him.
Which is why he brushes Raleigh's hand away from his face as he sits up, needing space or air or something because is it hot in here? Or is that just him? No it's the fire and the blankets and the fact that Raleigh's like a fucking oven and Chuck is a purebred Australian but sometimes a man needs some cool air. Space to breathe.]
I'm fucking fine.
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Like now. Raleigh gets it, so he only sits up, blankets falling away from their bodies to heap over their legs, the floor. The last thing in the world Chuck probably needs right now is someone babying him, but he doesn’t want to leave Chuck alone like this, either.
No, that would be a bad idea. Raleigh scrubs a hand over his face and starts getting up from the couch. ] I’m gonna get us some water. You should drink something.
[ It helps keep the bile down, wash away the taste on his tongue, if anything else. ]
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It's a point of pride, to be independent and not have to rely on anyone and he's okay with lying to himself about it.]
Okay. Fine. Fuck, I'm opening a window, it's too hot in here.
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It's a process, and Raleigh isn't planning on doing any pushing. Chuck's like a skittered animal; he'll come around in time, and the hard lines of tension in his profile don't welcome the sort of care Raleigh's aching to give him in this moment. ]
Go ahead.
[ He touches Chuck's shoulder in passing, more of an instinctual afterthought of care than anything planned, and pads his way into the kitchen. There, he grabs a glass from the counter and pours Chuck some water. ]
no subject
His shoulder burns where Raleigh touches it, he's just-- it's too hot, there's too much heat in here, the fire is threatening to engulf him again. Chuck things himself to be a rather tough guy, to swallow his feelings and not give anything away and maybe that's why this is so hard for him to deal with.
Chuck throws the window open and leans against it, for once Alaska works in his favor and it's nice. It's cool. It's how it should be. There's no fire, there's no danger, he's not going to burn alive.
He spends nearly a minute there before he feels more human, more like himself again and he can wander towards the kitchen.]
Shit, we need something stronger than water.
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When Chuck wanders into the kitchen, Raleigh's proffers up a glass of ice water. ] Drink the whole glass, and I'll get you something stronger.
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[It really, really is not Raleigh's fault that he's being so difficult but it's so, so easy to take his stress out on him anyway. To snap and snarl and push because Raleigh can take it. He doesn't just roll over and cry, he stands his ground and it's really fucking annoying when he does it.
It's exactly what he needs.]
Unless that's vodka I'll pass.
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[ He knows how to play it, because they've done this song and dance so many times that it's all muscle memory, now, for Raleigh to shove back when Chuck takes it out on him. In a pointed move, Raleigh steps between Chuck and the cabinet where they keep their liquor.
The glass is still outstretched. It's not a necessity for Chuck to drink water, but Raleigh's pushing it all the same. ]
You're not touching anything until you finish this.
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[No, it's not necessary that he drink any water and Chuck knows it and he just wants to be as contrary as possible with him right now. Say go left and he'll go right because of the pure fact that it's not what you said to do, even if it makes life more difficult for him. Because at least then he will have made his own fucking choice and no one, not even his fucked up head has any power over him.]
Move. I mean it.
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Whatever. If Chuck needs it --
Raleigh shakes his head once, sharp. ]
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Chuck could go around him but why do that when he could just go through him, even if it is a little bit more work, it's a lot more satisfactory to grab Raleigh by the collar of his shirt and push him back, back until he hits the counter.]
I said move.
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Raleigh doesn't try to pry the fingers away, but he keeps up his glare. ] You're gonna have to make me.
[ Nevermind that Chuck kind of already did. Raleigh digs his back in against the counter; he's not moving anywhere. ]
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This is who he is. Someone who pushes everyone he loves away as hard as he fucking can, purely for the sake of it. Because he can. Because it's something he controls.
Chuck makes a disgusted noise, throwing Raleigh's hand off and giving him a little shove before he steps back-- and then around him to reach for the cabinet.]
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[ He hates fighting with Chuck.
Raleigh doesn't budge or try to make it easier for Chuck to step around him at first, but he grips the counter behind him harder and exhales all at once, hating the anger that's still -- even after all this time -- an instinctual response to Chuck's aggression. Chuck plays him easier than anyone he's ever met.
Raleigh turns towards Chuck, finally moving away from the cabinet, if only to look at him better. ] Chuck, look --
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[Chuck has a bottle of vodka in one hand and he's pointing a finger in Raleigh's face with the other and you better not say another word.]
Whatever it is, no.
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The frantic fervor of Chuck's anger both desperate and pointless. Raleigh is gearing towards anger too, if he's not there already, but for all the wrong, selfish reasons. Raleigh tries calming himself. He's gritted his teeth up until now, but he gentles his tone. ] You gotta know that's not gonna help.
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He glares at Raleigh as he unscrews the top of the bottle and following in his partner's shining example, takes a drink from it.]
Yeah? Since when are you the expert on that?
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He does, perhaps, but. For the first time tonight, Raleigh wants to put distance between him and Chuck, and even Raleigh knows that would be a bad idea. He doesn't know what the best idea is, here.
Tearing that bottle from Chuck's hands isn't one of them, but he flexes his hands behind his back anyway. ] We're all fucking experts.
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You're full of shit.
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Chuck doesn't want Raleigh to help him, would rather push Raleigh away before letting that happen, and it's that, more than the barbed comment Chuck throws at his way, that has Raleigh pulling his lips over a snarl and shoving past Chuck, away from the counter, just. Away from him.
If Chuck's looking for a fight, he's gonna have to throw the first punch, because Raleigh sure as hell isn't feeling charitable tonight. ]