Tomorrow I'll be stronger, running colorful, no longer just in black and white [Week 6, Open]

[dead_black_eyes]

Who| Linden Lockhearst and Open!
What| After this altercation, Linden had to spend the night in jail. Encounter him at any point during the 24 period during and after this less-than-glamorous ordeal.
Where| Jail, later on the District 6 suite.
When| Week 6
Warnings/Notes| The normal ones for Linden! References to drugs and death are likely.



I. Jail

Linden stares past the rigid plastic handcuffs at his black shoes on white tile. It was only a matter of time, perhaps... withdrawal and the ensuing hell that was sobriety has been rough on him. For the first time in over a decade, he's been forced to look at some of the experiences that have shaped the person he is without the haze of Morphling or alcohol influencing it, resulting in the emergence of a deeply sad and very angry man. Having numbed these emotions for so long means that his ability to deal with them isn't great; an already tense situation with an admittedly horrible District 7 Mentor had escalated and though he'd blacked out past a certain point, he's pretty sure that he hurt the guy. Possibly even enough to need stitches. At that point, it didn't matter who you were or what you'd been through; you at least had to spend a night in jail as a token punishment, and past that, even if you were lucky and the media didn't catch wind, it was inevitable that you'd have to deal with some kind of therapy or conflict-resolution seminar at some point.

There's a forcefield keeping Linden from walking out of his cell, but it's possible to hear through it, even smell through it. There's coffee brewing somewhere nearby, and he approaches the forcefield and tries to get the attention of the nearest Peacekeeper.

"Hey... hey, is that coffee? Can I have some, please?"

The Peacekeeper sighs. "Try to sleep. You can't leave until morning at the earliest, and it gets boring as hell in those cells. It's supposed to, this is a punishment."

"Then let me bum a cigarette."

He's left behind with a brisk, dismissive shake of the Peacekeeper's head.

II. The Next Morning- Bail Posted

"Rise and shine." the Peacekeeper in charge disables Linden's forcefield, and he sits up quickly, having not actually realized that he'd fallen asleep.

"What's going on?" he asks blearily, already reaching for the wastebasket he'd requested they leave in his cell with him. Since quitting Morphling, he's queasy in the mornings sometimes.

"Morning, and someone's posted your bail. Congratulations; 6 must really want their only Mentor back."

"Who was it?"

"Beats me. I'd suck up to them big time, though, they did you a hell of a favor."

III. The Next Morning- District 6 Suites

Linden probably shouldn't have been allowed to return to work so quickly after snapping so obviously and so badly, but he is 6's only Mentor right now, and he's therefore needed. A sweet-voiced woman in a nurse's uniform had stopped by his cell before his bail had been posted and given him a stack of pamphlets, commending him on his efforts to get clean but assuring him that there were more ways to quit than recklessly going cold turkey. She urged him to consider tapering off to avoid a situation like the one he'd ended up in, and explained that mood swings and aggression were common side effects of coming off of a persistent Morphling addiction, and he is broodingly considering it.

He's also considering how the fuck he is going to apologize to Jason Compson. A written apology was one of the conditions for his release, after all, and he takes a deep breath, trying not to clench his fist around his pen and staring at his attempt to write something acceptable.

Dear Mr. Compson,

I'm sorry you're a sadistic brat

Stupid

have the self-control of a rabid warthog in front of an all-you-can-eat truffle buffet


I'm sorry that I lashed out at you. It was entirely my fault to expect you to be as refined as your bloodline would suggest when you are clearly an Avox-hitting sow of a-------------

Fuck you, you spoiled


It's not going particularly well.

Comments

[reassures]

She doesn't expect him to reciprocate the small written gesture of faith, and when he doesn't her expression doesn't so much as flicker. It has taken her years after so much loss to trust again, and even then she was so careful about who she did trust. She's had a long time to learn how to give people that power over her again, and Nill doesn't think Linden ever had that kind of opportunity, save for maybe Stephen.

It takes her a moment longer to write this time, and she's obviously a little more hesitant than she was for some of the previous messages. Her smile doesn't fade, but it does take on a gentler note, maybe even just a touch more somber. When she holds it up again her handwriting is smaller, purposely angled this time so that he won't need to move to make sure it doesn't line up with the cameras. This time when she lifts her other hand to brush against the force field her fingers linger there.

I do.
they're complicated, but do you know mine?

They aren't complicated for the reasons that Linden has been told about. The trust that is saved specifically for physical contact is not one that Nill knows how to give most people, or to stop thinking about, and it might be a long time before she could manage much in that regard, but it's not the really complicated thing.

The thing that complicates it the most is the voice of a dead boy bouncing around in her head, "It's just you. And if you marry someone else I'm definitely not going to be happy about it. But I guess I'd try to understand. Eventually," followed by her own typed words, "I'm not going to marry someone else. That isn't something you need to think about."

It wasn't about marriage, not really, it was about love and he had been such a jealous person that Nill is certain he would never have understood.

She would tell Linden about him, that she loved him but only ever told him lies, that she never let him know about her if she didn't need to with the excuse of keeping him safe, but Nill is terrified that if she referred to him as anything other than the boy she got killed that the Capitol might try to bring him back. She would never be selfish enough to let them do that.

[dead_black_eyes]

He was afraid she'd write something like that. He swallows as he takes in those words, the ones that both confirm that he's been obvious and invite speculation on her own feelings. Either way, Linden believes that he's doomed; what answer can he give, what assumption is he free and bold enough to make here?

His own smile is a broken one.

"Complicated," he replies, each syllable crisply pronounced even in his undertone. "I know what I wish for, but don't worry. I know it's selfish and unfair, and I know I shouldn't ask for it."

I can be patient and kind without being jealous. I could do it even if this forcefield was permanent. It's OK.

"...but that's all still how I feel. I can't speak for you."

[reassures]

Nill is fully aware that her phrasing was poor, that it may have just hurt him more than it helped anything, but she didn't want to lie to him when the only thing she had ever done for that boy was lie. Even then it just made things so much worse. Her fingers curl against the forcefield before her hand draws away again.

it's not that.
I'm trying not to let a ghost stop me from living.

It's hard, it's so hard, because every single bit of self-loathing and pain screams that she should let the ghost do whatever it wants, that it should be the most important thing, that to do anything but that is moving on, tantamount to cruelty and betrayal, the worst possible thing. How dare she try to live. How dare she want to be anything that wasn't just death and misery.

I don't feel alive. I don't feel real.
sometimes I do when I'm with you.

There are so many phrases she doesn't know how to use and emotions she doesn't know how to convey in written form. All Nill has are this handful of jumbled words and they feel so incompetent.

[dead_black_eyes]

It isn't so much phrasing as Linden's own apprehension, the desire to say something competing with the desperation to keep their faces and fingers away from any nearby chopping blocks. For everything he'd like to say, every soft and tender sentiment that Nill stirs in him like no one else can, the spiny and brusque demeanor he's cultivated bristles up like a wall of thorns to remind him that he's a very dangerous person to care very much about at all.

You're a Victor, but you're still a Districter. You're just as temporary as any other mortal, and more disposable than you realize. Is it really worth a confession or a bold kiss to put your job and your life in jeopardy?

"I know just what you mean..."

He would have to, being the guy who has been living enslaved to the memory of a dead Tribute for over a decade since the tumultuous ending of his own Games.

"You deserve to feel alive and real all the time. If I could, I'd give you that. Even if I don't actually know how, I'd keep trying."

It feels worth it, right now.

[reassures]

Every word she scratches onto paper and every hushed phrase from Linden's mouth is one step closer to getting the two of them in a world of trouble. So many people assume they already are together, but the point of it all is that the ones actually in charge at least didn't seem to think so. It was probably the only saving grace they had between the two of them, and just for being here for as long as she has it's probably ruining everything they have tried to maintain until now.

The only thing that keeps reminding Nill of it is the fact that most likely if they were going to hurt either of them, the one they would decide to kill off would be Linden. His death would be the easiest, followed by a memorial, something about the dangers of drugs, and they would make his memory into a sham, all the while reminding Nill that it was her fault. How could she even be bitter, or begin to deny that? It would be her fault.

I know you would.

Too dangerous. Far, far too dangerous. She offers him a ghost of a smile, faint but genuine enough, before she goes to write again.

I should go try to find Stephen again.

[dead_black_eyes]

Too far? Too late.

Despite the realization, and knowing just as well as Nill how precarious and potentially fleeting his life is, Linden doesn't regret a word of it. She knows, and that alone is worth the risk.

"Right, of course," he answers, reluctant to see her go while recognizing the necessity of her timely departure. "If you find him, please send him my way. I don't want to be stuck in here tomorrow night, too... that would be utterly humiliating for 6."

[reassures]

If she could, if it would somehow not come back to bite their throats before they had a chance to do anything, Nill would just stay here. It's not an option though, not if she wants them to stay alive.

Though not happy about needing to leave Nill she still manages a very small smile for him.

I will.

She steps away from the barrier then, and lingers long enough to wave slightly before turning to leave. Even if she manages to find Stephen she won't return with him.