forthedog | (no subject)

He's not sure why he should feel so tired. He's taken it easy today, spent time with the girls in the morning, checked his snares, sat with Neil for a while on the ballfield, sat with Florence for a while on the beach. He shouldn't be tired, but he is, and maybe it comes back to Florence's face, the pain in it, the loss, though he knows she was trying to be strong and he has no doubt that she'll succeed.

He doesn't actually want an eventful life. He hasn't since leaving the Guard. After that, he would have been happy with three hots and a cot somewhere, and a lot of time to think. But that's never been what life has in store for him and he's not sure why it should start now.

He shifts in bed, turning half on his side and closing his eyes, weariness aching in his limbs. Waiting for Tom, and for Neil, if Neil decides to show up, though he doesn't think he'll be good for much besides sleep. Might even be asleep before anyone even gets here. It's early yet, barely past dusk, but it's late enough, too.

No simple life for him. Not even when he's sleeping.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"And you think that's the worst thing that's ever happened to him?" he says gently, stroking a hand through Tom's hair. He knows the words probably sting, at least a little, but he doesn't mean them to. "I'm sure he's forgiven a lot worse. And he loves you, you idiot. Where is he now? Do you know?"

"I know it's not," Tom said tiredly, pulling away to sit up in the bed, rubbing his arm self-conciously. "That doesn't really make me feel like less of a jerk by comparisson."

He sighed quietly, looking down at Mike. "He's home, now. Or at least I think he is. I told him I might be coming by tonight."

He sighs when Tom pulls away, a little disappointed but it's not like it's entirely unexpected. He shrugs, sliding one arm under his head, and meets Tom's gaze levelly.

"So go by tonight. Talk to him about it. Tell him everything's okay. Because everything is okay, right?" he adds, a little more firmly.

"No, everything's not okay," Tom muttered, swallowing hard as he stood up. "But that doesn't really change anything. Not really."

He sighed, looking back at Mike as he lingered at the door. "I should...I should go."

"All right," he says quietly, looking up at Tom and feeling so incredibly fucking tired. And feeling selfish for that. But weeks of this and he's almost ready to take an especially long hunting trip.

"I love you," he says. "And this is gonna be okay."