you're knocking us off of our feet, you're knocking us down

[confidenceman]

Over two months on Tabula Rasa, and it's quickly growing evident that ain't coping well with the change. The two islands may be well and similar enough on the surface, but there ain't any pretending 'bout where the two of us are meant to be. Whatever amount of good we can do here, it ain't the same as what we did back home, keeping people safe, keeping them alive, bringing them home. I know Tabula Rasa gets up to all manner of crap, but thing is, you live here long enough, you start to see that nothing changes around here. Nothing but who's walking on the island, I guess.

People ain't dying. People ain't suffering. It's just a freaking train stop along the way. And the doc's never done well with being caged.

I know he's drinking, and I know it's starting to become a problem. I haven't been drunk off my ass for a while now, probably not since Kate left, but I'm sure hanging out at bars often enough that people might think otherwise. Most of the time, it's the Hub, less family-friendly and more like your usual dive. But sometimes, he heads to the Winchester too.

Like today.

I'm sittin' a couple tables away, keeping an eye on Jack while he drinks. More 'cause I know how well the good doc's capable of practically blowing up in front of others, and I ain't sure who all even knows how to start calming the guy down.

Although truth be told, I could use a little calm myself right now.

Comments

[little_moons]

I know the guy on sight, but we've barely exchanged more than a few words. I catch the same wariness pointed in my direction that I feel towards him, so I figure at least we're even. Still, he's here, he's drinking and he looks like shit, but that's not what I care about.

What I care about is the shadow hovering over his shoulder.

I ignore him for as long as I can. Finally, I step out from behind the bar and head his way, scowling as I ask, "You gonna order somethin, or you just gonna fuckin' sit there?"

[confidenceman]

For a second, I'm expecting that Neil's headed on over to kick me out of the place. Seems the only reason that he'd head on over here himself, rather than sending one of the wait staff. Then he opens his mouth, and it becomes pretty clear that the guy's pissed. Still.

I guess that ain't much of a surprise.

I figure that either I gotta go and lose track of Jack in the process, or I just try to keep out of Neil's hair as much as I can. Unless he gets some kinda kick out of glaring at me, I guess.

"Can I get a beer?" I ask, probably with more than a little cheek.

[little_moons]

My jaw clinches, hands curled into fists at my side, then I plaster on a razor-sharp smile and say, "Sure, just a sec."

I come back a minute later, blood still fucking boiling, plunking the glass and a coaster down in front of him, beer sloshing over the rim onto the back of my hand.

[confidenceman]

It's like I'm practically planning to make an asshole out of myself once he gets back. Hell of an easier thing to do, in its way, than watching Jack drink himself into a pit. You know, you can say what you want about Neil, but he's got fire in him, and he cares enough about himself and his life and how he feels to keep it going. I think that makes him healthier than the rest of us sorry bastards, in a way.

"So, what's keepin' you from kicking me out?" I ask, tilting my head as I watch him close. "Seems like you wouldn't mind doing it. And it ain't like you gotta take my community service as credit for eating 'round here."

[little_moons]

"You know why," I say with a heavy sigh, wiping my hand on my t-shirt and looking away.

"What the fuck are you even doin' here, huh? He's a grown fuckin' man. He doesn't need a goddamn chaperone."

[confidenceman]

"You say that like grown men don't need chaperons," I say carefully, tone measured as I stare up at Neil and try to figure out just where his head is. Doesn't look like he's quite decided himself. But there's one thing I know, and that's the fact that Jack does need someone to watch over him, like life's finally catching up and refusing to let him be the supervisor anymore. Time for everyone else to look after his back.

Or time for me to try, anyway.

"Why don't ya sit," I tell Neil, waving at the seat across from me as I take a sip of beer.

[little_moons]

I should say no. I don't want to fucking fight again, and I don't really see us coming to any sort of understanding, as much as I want to. Sinking down into the chair across from him with a scowl, I think he's probably lucky there's this table between us. I'm never completely sure whether to kiss him or fucking strangle him, most days.

"What?" I mutter, waiting for him to say whatever the hell he wants to say. Which is probably a big fucking nothing.

[confidenceman]

"I need a 'what' now?" I ask, as though it comes as a surprise. It doesn't. I know that he's got every right to be mad, just like I've every right to still pull away, but... Jesus. If it keeps on goin' like this, it'll be exactly what he's already warned about. Losing people. Twice as infuriating when you don't gotta lose them just yet. "Can't a guy just see whether or not it's still possible to shoot the breeze?"

I'm being an asshole. Pretty fantastic at that.

I take another swig of my beer. I don't know what I'm doing. Trying to give us something, I guess. A lifeline.

[little_moons]

Coughing out a laugh, I say, "You're fucking unbelievable. Fine, let's shoot the fucking breeze. How you been?"

I lean forward, like I'm real interested to hear, then I add, "Just, you know, make sure to keep the conversation light. You wouldn't wanna get too fuckin' invested."

I'm being a brat now, and I know it, but my fucking feelings are hurt, and this isn't enough to change that. I don't know what the fuck he wants from me and I'm too fucking tired of this shit to really bother trying to figure it out.

[confidenceman]

"Jesus," I breathe, rolling my eyes because I know that Neil's capable of more than this, of friggin' stooping down to take passes at each other like we're in elementary school again. "Fine, I get it. I'm sorry, 'kay, I'm a jackass— it ain't like that's anything new. And if this is just a pain in your ass, you're free to go."

I push myself out of my seat.

"Hell, I'll do you one better. I can see myself out."

[little_moons]

It's like I can hear myself saying this shit, see myself acting like a fucking dick, but I can't stop. I can't stop punishing him, even though I'm not sure why. We're friends -- were friends? -- but it's not like he owes me anything.

I can't really explain why I was so fucking hurt, in the first place.

I'm on my feet the second he pushes his chair back, some wordless protest on the tip of my tongue before I clinch my teeth and swallow it down. And it hits me, again. It's nothing new, but the certainty of it cuts a little sharper than I know what to do with.

I keep losing people. At this rate, there's gonna be nobody left.

"Fine, whatever."

[confidenceman]

Fine, whatever.

I can feel somethin' in me snap. They're just a couple of words, it ain't like I haven't heard them before, even from Neil himself, but it's just such a goddamn lie, just a goddamn lie. Not like the flippant ones he makes, neither. No, he's pissed, and he's hurt, but trying to be the strong guy who stamps it all down just ain't like him and it bothers me to see him try.

"You know what? No, it ain't fine, whatever," I say, turning around and rolling my eyes. "And you know, and I know it, and seeing you try to pull that off anyway's just startin' to piss me off again."

[little_moons]

"God, what the fuck do you want me to do?" I shout, voice too loud even over the noise in the dining room. I freeze for a moment, jaw clinched and twitching angrily, then I walk around the table toward him, catching him by the arm and dragging him toward the door.

"You're getting pissed off? Are you fucking serious?"

[confidenceman]

"If you wanna get angry, get angry. Don't be such a priss just glarin' at me like you think you can kill through a look alone, 'cause newsflash: ya can't," I yell in return, though I don't make any effort to tug myself completely away.

"If you don't wanna sit, then don't sit, don't do it 'cause you think you gotta be some perfect friggin' host for the Winchester."

[little_moons]

I shove him out onto the porch, the doors clanging shut behind us.

I don't get it. I don't get why he's doing this, after all that she said before. I don't get why he doesn't understand why this isn't easy for me. I guess he really is just that big of an asshole.

I shove him again, harder, and when I take a swing, I'm aiming for his jaw. I'm not a fighter, but I'm no fucking priss, either.

"I would've sat down no matter where the fuck we were, you dumb fuck. What the fuck don't you fuckin' understand?"

[confidenceman]

I let the punch land, full impact. Not about to swing back, but it feels... well, it feels. And that's not something that I can say happens too often anymore. Kinda like a spark in the middle of all that endless fog.

After staggering, I glance back over. "That all you got?" I ask, wiping at the corner of my mouth with the back of a hand.

[little_moons]

I take another swing, just to shut him up, but before he can stagger away, I grab him by the front of the shirt. On some kind of fucked up impulse, I press my lips to his, half expecting to get bitten or punched in the fucking face for my troubles.

"Depends on what you want," I sneer when I pull back, "You keep fuckin' with me, you're not gonna like what you get."

[confidenceman]

I don't get it at first, what Neil's doing. Like it takes a couple seconds too long to process, I guess, or somethin' like that, but soon's I notice that's going on, I pull myself the hell away and take a few steps back, because that's just messed. The guy knows that I'm not one for kissing other dudes, so I don't have the faintest idea what the hell he's trying to pull, but I don't like it.

"The hell?" I ask him, before rubbing my mouth with the back of a hand and half-turning 'cause I just don't have the faintest idea what's going on.

[little_moons]

It worked.

I think it, before I even realize what it is I was doing. That look of confusion, of veiled disgust... It's been a long time since I've fought this hard to fuck with someone, to push them away or get a rise out of them that's edging toward violence, but I don't know why else to do. Strip everything away, and what I do is fuck people or fuck with people. It was always easier than actually dealing with shit, and those were the only weapons I ever had.

I'd rather have him confused and angry with me than remembering that I was actually hurt.

"Get the fuck out of here, Sawyer. Just go," I croak, my voice more hoarse than it should be.

[confidenceman]

Great. So he was fucking with me. That's what I'm reading from the way he's reacting now, anyway. It ain't that he's forgotten who I am, and it ain't like he's somehow pining his little heart away, so he's just plain trying to screw with me. I don't know why that pisses me off half as much as it does, god only knows I've screwed enough other people that I deserve to get hit a few times in return, but not from him. Not like this. I ain't ever tried to mess with him, see. Not really.

Tried to push him away, sure, but you can call that selfish, you can call that practical. I don't know what this is.

"Fine," I growl instead, just turning on my heel and starting home. Whatever. Enough doctors on this island to make sure the one I'm worried about doesn't dive all the way into alcohol poisoning, anyway.