unexpected aid and insights

Who: Eris and Everett
Where: Vicarage, second floor
When: early evening

Everett was drunk. Everett was drunk as fuck, really. If he hadn't been, and hadn't been so eager to twist open a bottle, he might've stopped to consider the intent of a gift like this. It was meant to hinder him, make him rash and tense, throw him to the wolves of his own weakness. But? Yeah, wasted. He'd started the day before after getting Scott to the clinic with the others, shutting himself in his room with a glass and stinking up the second floor with the aroma of cigars. The only break had been when he'd fallen asleep in his seat, glass in hand.

Which meant that when he woke up with a pounding headache and spilled scotch on his leg? Well, he'd bemoaned the waste of liquor more than the stain on his pants, then he'd poured himself another. That had been much earlier in the morning, and through any house sounds or low murmurs of voices, Ev was hiding. He could ignore all of them like this if his supplies held out, which they wouldn't at this rate. But he was trying; content with his dark, shapeless thoughts and numbed lips. Contentment didn't hold up long against the urge to pass all of the scotch he'd imbibed in the last twelve hours though. Sadly, an urge to piss didn't make him any more coordinated.

His door popped wide, resounding against a wall as Ev pushed it open sloppily and glowered at the empty hallway. He was a functioning alcoholic, for certain, but he hadn't had the 'alcohol' part of the equation for some time now. It left a shamble in his step, producing a bloodshot glaze to his eyes and returning the swollen capillaries in his nose as Ev shambled out towards the bathroom with a stub of a cigar burning in his grip.

Eris had been hiding in her room since parting from Brett's company earlier that morning. What she'd already known was going to be a migraine headache didn't disappoint, and she'd been spending her entire day in her bed, under the covers entirely, curled up into a little ball. She'd done what she could to block any light from her room, so it was pitch black, especially by the time the sun was going down. She'd slept intermittently, but not well, and she'd cried now and then when the pain got so bad. Then, of course, the worst thing in the world happened. Her watch started blinking light, and playing that stupid song it did earlier. She'd forgotten to take it off, and hadn't even thought about it before, or she probably would have left the stupid thing downstairs. The high pitched sounds stabbed through her head like needles, and the light was even worse. Ripping it off of her wrist, yanking hard enough to bruise it in the process, she viciously threw it across the room, it cracking hard against her door, then tumbling to the floor...only it still blinked, and still played.

Passing by Eris' door in neat time with the impact, Ev stopped with a slow frown and a slight lurch, staring at the door and waiting expectantly. What was he expecting? He didn't know, but this was Stockard's room, something fucked up was due to happen. And he felt entirely justified in that expectation as the tinny melody carried beyond the door to his ears, deepening his frown. A man his age? Well, Ev wasn't on the cutting edge of technology, and to him it sounded like a ringtone. So he actually felt a surge of ire as he wondered if Eris had been hiding a cellphone or something, somehow, and reached out to twist her doorknob. "The fuck's going on in here, Stockard?" he growled without a heavy slur, cracking the door just enough to speak in at her.

She tensed, if that was possible, with as tense as she already was, and she was curled on her bed, hands up over her ears. "Make it stop." she said, voice full of pain and misery. "God, make it stop. Please make it stop." she continued, not necessarily consciously catching that it was Everett's voice she'd heard. Even if unconsciously she had, with the tension, her higher brain just wanted that noise to stop, the light to go away. God it needed to go away. It hurt.

Below Eris' pleas for the tune to stop, Ev heard the low scrape of the bracelet as the door pushed it slightly. What was more, he saw the slight change in the darkness of her room as the light flashed in time with the music. And the bit he could see? Well, it might've been an old phone. He stooped to grab it, teetering uncertainly until he gripped the doorknob with his other hand. Ev still lurched off-balance even with the support, dragging the bracelet out and examining it in confusion. "Some kind of Dick Tracy bullshit?" he murmured.

"Stopstopstopstopstop," Eris cried, that followed by a choked kind of sob. "Please, buttons..hit...I don't...make it stop..." There were buttons on the side. And there was that stupid blinking happy face on the screen, she could see it in her mind's eye. God, why hadn't it broken when she'd thrown it? Why was that song still playing?!

Initially, Ev was too amused by the device, his thoughts unfolding slowly under the stupor of his drinks. But drunk or no, it didn't take long before the string of notes started to get annoying. Buttons? He scowled in consternation, closing a thick hand over the bracelet and just mashing his fingers along the surface of the thing. If there was a button, he was going to find it. True to his intentions, the melody cut off a moment later and Ev smirked proudly to himself, tossing the bracelet back into the dark of Eris' room with a low thud. "You win that thing at a carnival I missed?" he asked, still rather oblivious to the tormented state Eris was in.

It was sinking in that it was Everett, and hey, wasn't that fitting. Why couldn't she have gotten a room on the first floor, where it could have more likely been Brett, who would have just...shut the stupid thing off, then told her that she'd better take her stupid medication, then have pissed off? But no. She was up here. With him. Who was asking questions, and had let her suffer more before he'd turned it off. "No, it's supposed to remind me to take my medication." she ground out, voice still strained, and she bit back another sob, forcing herself to unclench her hand from her hair so she could wipe at her tearing eyes. God. Moving wasn't going to work so well for her right then. She knew she'd brought water up, but...where was her pills, even? Were was the bottle? Could she even keep them down right now?

He almost didn't care. The drinks had made his scope of thought narrow again, narrow enough that his thoughts on Eris largely boiled down to 'fuck you'. Ev very nearly moved to leave without waiting for an answer, but when he lingered long enough from uncertain footing to hear? Well, he dimly remembered Brett from a few days earlier, wanting to make sure Eris got food, water, someone to check on her up here since he couldn't. And drunk or not, that memory snowballed into thinking that Brett knew what he'd done when he made the request. Ev didn't think the man was the type to blackmail? But deciding he could was a better excuse to linger than admitting he still had room for remorse in his head right now. "So take your damn meds," Ev told her as he stood in the doorway, "I'll get you some water if you need."

Her breathing was very uneven, and she didn't answer right away, she remained curled up, feeling unable to move properly. "I don't..." she started, coherency not her best friend right now. Though, Ev's voice was low enough that it didn't stab into her brain like the song had. As far as sounds went it was less harsh for her than other things. "Know if I could keep them down." she admitted. And really, throwing up while having a migraine really just made everything worse.

"Need yourself a bit," Ev rumbled without really dwelling on why he was still standing here. "Used 'em back in the Corps when we were getting anti-tox meds. Bite down on something when the meds tear up your stomach or the docs are sticking you." Some guys used their wallet, their sleeve, anything the jaw could lock tight on. "You gonna freak if I get you a drink and bring it in?" he asked in a soft tone that would've been lost without the coarse gravel of his voice.

She took her time to answer, not because she needed to think about it, but because she had to fight back another wave of pain through her skull. She wondered if she asked him to knock her out if he'd oblige. And then, on the heels of that, if his manner of doing so would leave her worse. Kill more of her brain, more of herself. He'd already shut doors in her head permanently. Made her a person who wasn't the same. Like a house that still stood but the inside had been gutted by a fire. It looked fine, but then you went inside... She made a vague gesture. "There's a bottle somewhere." she managed to get out, though her voice was hoarse.

"Well since I'm not a bat, can't see in the dark," Ev pointed out with a growl of irritation. Leave it to Eris to make getting water an ordeal. "I can hit the lights or I can hit the bathroom with a glass. Make a call." Of course, he still didn't know where her meds even were. Did she? Eris didn't sound coherent enough for him to confidently think so. But even without waiting for an answer, Ev took a step farther into her room, ready to bolt if she freaked out. Black man, kinda drunk... yeah, wouldn't look good.

Eris yanked the blankets over her head. She didn't like the water from the bathroom. Brett had said that he didn't either. She blamed that for the water he'd given her when she was sick tasting like shit. She still didn't know that it had been medicated in some fashion. She'd just behaved when he told her to quit her bitching and drink it anyhow. "Lights." she said, feeling like she was shaking. Was she shaking? She was shaking.

Was she ready? Ev wasn't sure, and he gave a five-count before slapping a hand against her wall to feel for a light switch. He squinted once he found it, looking around the dilapidated space that was no better then his own next door, then stepped in. It was... well, a mess. The cynic in him said it was definitely the room of someone with brain damage, and the voice that called him an asshole for that was quiet indeed. He drew closer bit by bit, leery about approaching the bed too quickly until he spotted what looked like a pill-planner on the ground, the end of a water bottle jutting from under the bed nearby. "Hands out to receive," he instructed with a slur, getting a steady stance before he bent to grab them and deposit them in Eris' hands. "Stay put, I'll kill the lights and get out of your space. Doubt I'm making you feel better."

She reached out blindly, and got things put in her hands. She slowly sat up, though it was hard for her, and the overhead light killed her eyes so she shut them tight. "'Bout now the only thing'd make me feel b'tr is a bullet to the temple." she muttered, holding her pills and the water, but god, she didn't even want to try. Her eyes were red, watery. and she swayed a little, arm landing heavily on the mattress to keep herself upright.

She was pitiful. And it wasn't even a malicious thought; Ev pitied her, seeing her like that. She didn't deserve his contempt right now, because she couldn't give him anything to refute or any reason to rage at her. If he just went back to his room, he'd just... sit, drink more, brood on how bad he wanted her to feel good enough for him to keep up his hostility. "You gonna be able to handle me helping? I don't want you puking on me because I touched you," Ev mumbled with a fit of concentration.

Eris didn't answer immediately, mostly because she was bending her head down, enduring through another stab of sharper pain through her head. "Can you--is there a candle, or...this light hurts." she choked out. A candle might be better. She didn't have to look at it directly, and it would still shed better light than just the hallway's dim illumination.

Snapping open the pill-planner, Ev dumped the evening's dosage into his palm and rose, looking back to the switch. "You just get your eyes shut, I'll help with the rest," he instructed, thinking that walking through her room in the dark was a bad idea? But so was giving him a lit candle. "And grab your sheets, start twisting 'em tight as you can," Ev added, moving for the light switch.

She didn't know what else to do, so she just...listened, for the moment. She wasn't steady as she did it, but she started to twist the sheets, grabbing hold. Not that she knew what he was going to do. And vaguely, she wondered if this was going to be the end. She could smell the alcohol on him. She would have to be dead to not catch that. Was now when he decided no, really, the world had at least been more peaceful without her?

Ev didn't want to consider that as he flipped the switch off? But some part of him did. How easy would it be? Easier than three armed men, for certain. Easier than the first time. But Brett would know. And Everett himself would know, he'd fall headlong into the condemnations he whispered to himself when sober. Even if he did do it some day? Ev wanted to be sober, to be able to say that it was him alone who had made the choice. He nudged the door open a bit more before heading over, using the faint hallway light to keep an eye on Eris' silhouette. Staggering in the dark, Ev steadied himself before he reached Eris and crouched. "Simple plan. You open, we get the pills down. You feel sick? Bite the sheet tight, close your throat up, breathe through your nose until it passes. Clear?" he asked, pinching the pills between thumb and fingers and guiding them wobblingly towards Eris' mouth.

She nodded a tiny bit, but even that hurt, so she didn't keep the motion up long or anything. She felt helpless. And ridiculous. She knew most of the time when she got these headaches, she just dropped into a black hole of pain, and didn't take her meds, didn't do anything until it subsided. She vaguely remembered when she was locked up that sometimes they'd put her on IV's or...something. She opened...still wondering if this wasn't it. But right now it might be nice. At least her head wouldn't hurt anymore.

He lined it up as best as he could, but a dim room and dulled motor skills made the angle tricky. Ev ended up with the base of his palm just under Eris' jawline as he dropped the first pill past her lips. He used the point of contact to guide the bottle in, tilting it slow to try not to drench her. "You know... if I could take it back? I would," Ev rumbled as he eased a trickle of water past her lips, following it with another pill. "For both of us. You deserved real justice, Stockard." Dropping the last one in, Ev gave another little pour of water, not wanting her to choke on it all.

She slopped some water out of the corner of her mouth, but really, that was the least of her problems. She took the meds when he gave them to her, knowing there were a couple more. She also kept kind of waiting for him to shove the bottle down her throat. That would be a nasty way to go. When she swallowed, she tried to formulate some answer for him. "I just think you found out killing in the war made you a hero, but killing me made you a demon." she said, voice still hoarse. There wasn't actually any acid to her tone, though. More just like a dull observation. Something she'd thought about--and she had. She'd had a lot of time to do that.

Everett laughed coarsely, a soft and ugly sound that seemed louder in the close space they shared. "Surviving made me a hero, girl," he told her, "One of five men out of fifty who survived. Killing..." Ev didn't have much to say beyond that word for a moment, so he reached down to the other end of her blankets, grabbing a sheet. Ev dragged it up to Eris' head level, dousing it with a splash from the bottle. "Don't freak out," he advised as a warning, guiding the soaked end across her eyes. His mother had always done it for him in his youth, maybe it'd help.

Eris flinched at the laugh, but not due to how it came off, just due to the sound being too loud for her head. She also flinched when he put the wet sheet to her eyes, but hey, he wasn't actually wrapping it around her neck. So, that was a plus. She reached up to hold it for him, hand brushing against his as she did so. "Got it." she said. "Five of fifty." she mumbled after that. "Where are your brothers at arms?"

"One O.D., one suicide," he began to tally, dropping another pill and a pour of water, "Those were back in... '76 and '81. The other two? One's a consultant out D.C. way, we don't talk much. Last fella headed towards Mexico, we lost touch." Ev guided the last pill in, nearly rubbing Eris' throat to help her swallow but thinking better of it at the last minute. It was a combination of the dark, his buzz, their soft voices, and her fleeting touch that nearly made him forget who she was and where the lines were. "Thing is, held up to those boys? Damn right I felt like a hero. It made me want to serve again, at home... made me spend thirty years thinking that being a good cop's the same as being a good person."

She swallowed her pills down, then curled back up on her side, sheet still held to her eyes. She didn't answer immediately, but did eventually. "Most people would assume that's the case." she said, knowing appearances and just how much they played into everything. "Brett's a hero, you know." she added lightly. Mind a little less solidly coherent than usual, so it drifted a little more easily along things, and made her more likely to speak as things flitted across the surface of her mind.

"Most people don't see the inside of a station house," Ev pointed out, shrugging. It was a common perception, and in some cases it was true. Back home, Ev had a drawer with his commendations, his news articles, letters of thanks people had written him that were yellowed with age. At a glance? He would've looked like a good person. "What did Brett do before the experiment?" Ev asked quietly, gently tucking the water bottle into Eris' free hand. If she was talkative right now? He'd take details that Brett himself seemed pretty damned unlikely to share.

"'In the end, you are what you pretend to be'." she said, quoting, she thought, from something. What, she couldn't remember. Maybe it was paraphrased. It was possible. And unfortunately, the question made her realize she'd actually shared the thought about Brett in the first place, and she twitched slightly. "You'd have to ask him." she said. "But I doubt he'd tell you." In fact she was pretty sure Brett wouldn't say. She was vaguely surprised she knew.

Ev was vaguely disappointed; he hoped Eris was out of it enough to just keep talking. Brett was a tough nut to crack, and even when sober Everett couldn't figure out the man's loyalties to Stockard. "He's not a fan of mine," Ev agreed, sitting back from the bed, "Which puts the total count in town at zero, so no huge loss." Ev moved to put a knee down, wobbling precariously and fighting a bout of head-spins. "Doesn't mean I'm done trying," he added, staggering to his feet. Another drink was in order. And a piss. "You gonna be good in here? Need anything?"

"He knows you killed me." Eris said quietly. Kind of still off-sounding enough. She was aware of him moving, but didn't move the sheet to see. "Done trying what?" she asked, not connecting that in with things properly, even if she was aware she should. Mother Night. Why did that drift across her mind?

"No shit," Ev rumbled, "I told him. I'm guessing you did too." He didn't move to leave just yet, she'd asked a question after all. And even if Ev believed the idea less than ever with half a bottle of scotch in his gut? He still believed it. "Trying to change this. To help. Help you or anyone else. I don't care about me any more, I don't care about what you've done. I can go away for the rest of my life if I survive this, I'm still gonna try. If I stop? I'm out of reasons to keep going."

She was quiet for a moment, letting the words drift in and mix with the rest of her thoughts. Part of whatever she'd taken was kicking in some, not that it would actually make her able to function properly, but it helped a tiny bit. "I told him. It was raining." There was lightning, too, she remembered that. Had she told him then? The day she'd forced him to sit and have a civil conversation with her? When she hadn't fucked off when he'd told her to? The trait that he named when talking about them...them them them. Was there a them? Maybe. She didn't know. Maybe she'd know tomorrow. "I was told I'm not her anymore." came out kind of randomly. "Do you think you're helping everyone?"

"Not one bit." It was a gut answer, no hesitation. "I think people feel better if I bark an order or say I'm checking something out, but I can't stop any of this. I can't fix what I've done, or what we've all been through." But maybe, in some twisted sense that the liquor supplied, he'd done something. He'd killed a monster, he'd left a broken girl in its' wake. He'd become a monster to remove one. "You're not her any more," Ev agreed in a soft rumble, "She died, you lived. Maybe you only get however long we're here, maybe it's a life you don't want. I'm sorry if it is, but if you trust him? Hell, that's something."

"I don't like when you bark orders. I'm not one of your soldiers." Eris said, voice muzzy. But there. She thought about everything else he said, it drifting into the ebb and flow of her other thoughts. And since Brett was somewhere on her mind, she picked out what he said with the reference to him more easily. Trusting him was something. She had trusted him. Then he'd dropped her at a moment's notice, and that had hurt. Right then, with her feeling the way she did, and the way her head was, she could admit that in a way. He'd hurt her. But he was all she had, too, so she wouldn't be alone. "something." she said nonsensically.

Ev sighed, recognizing the distress in that single word even if Eris wasn't conveying much else. Maybe she was just that sick, maybe he was too drunk and imagining it. "No one here's my soldier, none of you has to listen to a goddamn word I say. But these folks? They like to jaw, get opinions, think on what to do. Shit's gonna get us killed. You don't have to listen to me when I speak up, though," he reiterated gruffly. "I'll do what I can, if it pisses you off? Just keep being you, I'll get the hint." He turned to look back at the lights beyond her door, debating just leaving on that note, and turned back to Eris. "Nothin's gonna change with us? But you holler if you're feeling like this, I'll come check."

She had to think for a moment before she answered, and thinking wasn't her friend right then. "Part of trying to make up for things?" she asked, voice light, a little wobbly. Though it was more because of the pain than emotions she was going through. Though they were out of whack too. They did that sometimes. Occasionally, she just didn't have control anymore.

"No making up for some shit," Ev rumbled in answer, shaking his head. And that was the only boon to his thoughts when he got wasted; they were honest, there was no filter. It was as much for himself to hear as her, because Ev had told himself so many times now that he had to try and set things right with Eris. But he couldn't. That couldn't be the reason he was doing what he was here. "Just... reflex. I hate people, but I won't leave someone in the shit just because I feel that way. Never did back in the day. Figure maybe I oughta get back to thinking like that."

Well he was right about that. There was no making up for some things. But whatever, she didn't need to confirm that for him. He obviously knew. "Wanna play hero for the town?" she asked, voice very soft, though that was less by design, and more because she was drifting a little. "Be the public pillar of strength...justice." Because the tarot card came back to mind.

He gave a soft grunt of a laugh, bristling a little at that interpretation. Maybe because it was accurate. "Never knew how good I was at lying until I had a big lie to spin," Ev answered, "But I'm no hero. Not even close. If people decide I am? One more thing to fuck with them later on. If they're smart, they'll just opt to follow my lead and get shit done while they can. If I'm lucky, they'll do that, and I won't have to lie as much." But he wasn't a lucky man, and he didn't credit most people with an abundance of smarts. he just didn't want to be any more of a bastard than he already was.

"No one knows how good they are until they have to be." Eris murmured. She drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly, wondering if the edges of her migraine were ebbing slightly. Maybe. Of course the first sharp noise or bright light that she encountered would undo all of that. "Your card was Justice." she said. "Mine was the eight of swords..." Brett was the Chariot. He didn't like that. But they got his eyes right. And they've fucked them up on the doll and that bothers me, does it bother you? "Rosemary painted them." she added, that thought just kind of getting out there. Had she said that already? "People will follow anyone if they step up tall enough. So step up, sheriff. they'll fall in line. Just tell them it's all going to be okay, and you have things under control. They'll want to believe you." she continued in her vague, mumbled way.

Justice? Well, that was all kinds of fucked up. What sort of justice did he represent? At best, Old Testament-style; eye for an eye, blood for blood. And really, since the incident back home? Ev hadn't even considered himself to be real justice. "Don't know what the eight of swords is," he rumbled, shaking his head and moving for the door. Ev didn't want to say any more than that, he just wanted to go piss and drink until he slept again. But something made him stop near the doorway and look back once more. "I... I don't know if I want them to believe me," he muttered in Eris' direction.

She heard the hesitation there. And her answer was something she didn't actually have to think about. "Which is more important to you?" she asked. "Their peace of mind...or your self image?" she asked. Because if what meant most to him was playing the hero for the masses...it didn't matter what he wanted. If his personal self image was what mattered most to him, he was going to have to come up with a new plan. Or someone else to put up for the people to get behind. "If it's self image...if you can't do it...find someone else to stand up and play it for you." she instructed. Because being a manipulative bitch meant you had to know people. And had to know them well. And just because she didn't do that anymore didn't mean she didn't still have the ability to read a situation and direct people correctly.

The question was surprising, because Everett hadn't seen Eris hit him with that sort of insight for a while now. Before, he'd felt bad about how scattered she was because of him. Now? He almost wished she was worse just so she couldn't frame things like that for him. Because really, he couldn't answer right now. Everett didn't want to hate himself any more. He knew that wouldn't happen, but he'd settle for at least admitting to who he thought he really was. But if he did? Well, he'd be a pariah. No one sane would want his help or advice, and despite not being entirely sane himself, Ev still felt like he was needed. He could do things the others might flinch at. "Rest up," he finally rumbled, taking another step out of Eris' room without answering her question, "If you need something, holler. I'll be next door."

Eris mumbled something, that might have been 'goodnight, Sergeant' but it was too unclear to really tell if that was it. She curled up farther, and tried to block everything out again, let her thoughts drift...she heavily considered taking a second round of her meds if she could find them, just to get herself fully messed up and then she might not remember that she was in pain and she could sleep. But...that wasn't necessarily wise, and finding them would require movement. So, instead, she stayed right where she was, and she yanked the covers over her head again to become a little hidden ball of Eris.