What Do You Normally Do When I'm Gone?

[runes_brand]

Who: Brand & you!
What: Rune goes home. Brand reacts.
Where: Around the Rig
When: After Honeyplank & the Riot
Warnings/Notes: Brand-typical swearing, TBA

Brand is on his way to lunch when the bottom drops out of his world. Between one moment and the next, Rune is gone.

Rune's not dead, he tells himself over the hammering of his heart. He's not dead, he's fine, he's fine, he's back home, he's with Addam and the kids, he's fine--

He's running before he even realizes he's in motion, though he's not sure where. Toward the hole in the center of him, probably.

He's fine, he's fine, he's fine, he's fine...

--

He stuffs Rune's sheets in the vents so that Jorgmund can't take them and toss them in the wash. They're sweaty and gross, Rune runs hot at the best of times, but Brand isn't thinking straight. He's desperate to keep what he's got. How long is he going to be kept here alone? Rune said he'd been here a month before Brand showed up, was he going to be here long enough to even them out? Longer?

Bile rises in his throat, along with the urge to scream. He hates this. He hates being separated from Rune, he's always hated it; everything feels sharp and bruised and wrong when he can't feel Rune's existence on the other end of their Companion bond. He doesn't know how Corinne did it when Kevan died, he doesn't want to know.

He wants Rune. Fuck, he just wants Rune.

He leaves their his their bunk to go find somewhere else to hide. He can't be here right now.

Comments

[walkingballpit]

He shouldn’t really be surprised by the continued sarcasm. Heat and humidity make everybody cranky, and his bunk has actual tropical vines in it right now.

But it doesn’t even sound all that sarcastic. It sounds defeated. Sure. Why not. Maybe he is the brooding on the roof type after all.

“Yeah, but everything’s been shit.” Robbie waves a hand low to the deck, rather than at a normal height for the gesture. He’s talking about the Rig and Jorgmund, specifically. The world at large isn’t comforting, but it’s not what’s actively harming them. “The heat’s new-er. I’m not built for south of New England. If it weren’t for the trees, I’d already be pink. Waterbabies SPF 128 or burn.”

The chatter isn’t necessary, but it’s deliberate. Robbie is filling the space to act as a distraction. From the heat, from Jorgmund, from whatever’s driven Brand up here. If it helps, great. If it’s annoying, at least Brand gets to blow off steam in a way that won’t get him shocked by snarking at Robbie. “But it’d be worse for the Atlanteans I know. They don’t do so hot when they get dehydrated.”

[runes_brand]

Brand weighs his options and doesn't like the results. Can't throw Robbie over the side (people like Robbie and would come and bother him over it), can't jump over the side himself (not up to learning how to navigate the outside of the Rig). Walking away is an option, but Robbie might follow.

Fuck. He might have to use his words to escape this social interaction. "What do you want?" he asks, waiting just long enough for Robbie to finish whatever he's jabbering about. Something-something-heat, something-something-burn, something-Atlanteans-something. He tries to make the words come out with bite, but they just come out sounding tired. Ugh.

[walkingballpit]

...the response is certainly leaning annoyed. This is hardly the first time Robbie's been cut-off by a question like that.

"Straight to the big, navel-gazing questions. What do I want... metaphorically? Alternatively everything and nothing. Literally, right now, from you? I don't know." There's nothing specific and concrete for Robbie to gain from this. "I'm good with anything from a conversation to friendship. Being nice isn't transactional."

[runes_brand]

That response earns an uncomprehending stare from Brand. Nice people are so weird.

"You can fucking assume 'literally' when I ask a question," he says in the hopes of cutting down on future jabbering. Philosophy is more Runes's th-- oh. Ow. Fuck. He'd almost been distracted from the hole where Rune's supposed to be, but now he's thinking about it again and--

Fuck, that pained grimace likely didn't escape Robbie's notice either.

[walkingballpit]

Let Robbie introduce you to this thing called metaphor, Brand. It really spruces up your life and your vocabulary. For example, Robbie personally finds he almost never his to start throwing F-bombs to get across his frustration.

“Noted. You don’t do metaphor. Just be prepared to really regret that someday because I will play the long game on being a weisenheimer.” The advanced warning might be a tweak too far, but enh. He’s either going to laugh or be grumpy, and he’s already that.

The grimace makes Robbie move quickly, suddenly up on his knees instead of sitting on his butt. “Seriously, are you okay? I can get Brainy - he’s basically a doctor.”

[runes_brand]

There is no swear jar or automatic censor in the multiverse that will convince Brand to give up his F-bombs. Not even the presence of adorable, impressionable children can do that.

He sighs heavily at Robbie's warning, then harrumphs at his offer of assistance.

"I don't need a fucking doctor. It's not a physical problem." He sighs again and grits his teeth, bracing himself for noisy sympathy.

"Rune's back home."

[walkingballpit]

For something that’s not a physical problem, Brand reads like he’s in physical pain.

But then… “Oh. Shi- sprock. Sorry, I didn’t know.”

When Brand showed up, he went on a rampage demanding to know where Rune was. Robbie has half-surprised he didn’t throw Rune over his shoulder and climb to the top of the Rig.

“I can’t imagine what that must be like.” He’s never been married - never been anywhere near that sort of relationship. Robbie doesn’t have to assume the emotional devastation, not with how Brand is now.

There’s a very, very lukewarm attempt at offering a bright side, but Robbie’s hand rubs the skin of his neck, feeling for the implants. “I hope there is safer than here. At least then I could say that least you know the hubs is safe.”

[runes_brand]

"Didn't expect you to know," Brand says. At least the news will put Robbie off his chirpy small talk attempts.

...Just the chirpy ones, though. Brand huffs.

"Define 'safer'. He's a fucking--"

Hang on. Brand stops mid-complaint and turns to look at Robbie, brow furrowing.

"'The hubs'? Do you think we're married?"

No pun intended

[walkingballpit]

He’s all geared up to state the obvious (“Doesn’t have deadly control devices literally embedded in his body?”), but Brand’s confusion triggers Robbie’s own brand of open, wide-eyed uncertainty.

“You’re… not?” He scrambled to read the situation for a better way to describe the perceived relationship without insulting them. “Uh - life partner? Significant other? Boo?”

[runes_brand]

Brand snorts, and it's almost a laugh.

"The word you're looking for is 'Companion'," he says. The Atlantis Robbie's familiar with must not have them because otherwise it's a pretty easy guess. "Even if we were married, that would fucking come first. His boyfriend understands."

If any time passes at all for Rune back home, at least he'll have Addam watching out for him while he's trying to tear down the walls of reality to get back to Brand.

[walkingballpit]

“Companion, right. Very Victorian, wink wink nudge nudge say no more.”

To be honest, he likes that one a considerable amount more than some of the others he’s offered. It’s less sterile, but not as young as ‘boyfriend’.

Although Brand used boyfriend, so clearly there’s a distinction to be made, Robbie still thinks he may steal that. “Whatever open poly thing you’ve got going, you’re worried about. I get it. There’s never anywhere safe to put the people you care about. I’ve thought about adamantium bell jars, but there’s the whole oxygen thing.”

[runes_brand]

Brand reconsiders his stance on tossing Robbie over the edge of the platform.

"It's not a romantic relationship," he growls. "Rune and I aren't in a fucking romantic relationship. I'm his Companion, it's what I am, not how we choose to handle it." He swings around to pin Robbie with a glare. "We've been inside each other's heads since before we were capable of conscious fucking thought, and right now he's. Not. There!"

Part of it is about protecting Rune, part of it is always about Brand's ability to protect Rune, but there's a reason that cleaving a Companion from their Atlantean partner is called a living death and it's not just because their magically-delayed aging catches up with them. Brand feels like his insides have been scooped out, leaving him confused and hollow and agonized, like nothing is ever going to be okay again because Rune is gone.

Anger again burns bright and hot and consuming more than he has in him anymore. Brand slumps again, sliding down to sit on the deck, because he doesn't have it in him to continue to stand.