Nico is not in his cell cabin, and not in the infirmary. He's in a bed. He can hear the soft constant wind chime Tris gave Jedao, and the low burble of his aquarium filter. The humidity is higher than usual, and the air is scented faintly with lemon and ginger. Jedao has been simmering the aromatics on the stove for the last few hours. Nico died of chest shots; if the toll affects his breathing, steam will ease the difficulty at least a little.
Jedao is breathing next to him, with the steadiness of long patience, the tell-tale familiar texture of callouses and half-gloves where he has one of Nico's hands clasped gently in both of his.
Nico's never died before (the dream-memories of vines ripping him apart - the flashes that keep him away from the greenhouse - don't count, he hadn't been able to die, then, and the pain hadn't come until later), he hadn't expected it to feel so... familiar. He's back where he started from (it's hard to think of a life before the labs, they are the beginning and the eventual end), woken up from dreams of a world free from the never ending pain.
A never ending room filled with books, running a wolf, a loving family, the kindness of strangers - a far stranger dream than most, he wonders if they've been trying out experimental drugs again. He feels sick enough for it. That's familiar. That feels real. The exhaustion, the headache, the pain in his chest - that's real. He can believe in that. He knows what to do, he knows that there's nothing he can do.
But that's not true, either. He's hallucinated before, lost in his mind or senses confused after a 'treatment' that leaves him smelling or feeling things that aren't there. But they're not like this. The feeling of the bed; the soft, unfamiliar sounds; the warm air easing his breathing; and the strange-familiar hands around his. All the elements tie together, all the facts fitting his memories.
He knows what happened. He remembers Teddy. The shots to the chest and the pain before he'd lost consciousness. He knows where he is. He knows who's with him. His hand tightens convulsively a moment, gasping.
He rubs his thumb over Nico's fingers, a faint soothing gesture, and acceptance without exactly squeezing too tightly back. Jedao suspected that would be the opening salvo.
He spent several of the waiting hours trying to figure out what to say in response, something that would neither rebuke Nico for the impulse to apologize nor accept that he has something be sorry for. Preferably, not a platitude. The simple truth, in the end -
"I'm sorry too." Even if it would be absurd and unwelcome, for him to shadow Nico every hour of the day. Even though amidst the uncertainties of the barge, there's no such thing as perfect security. Jedao aches to protect him. He failed in the breach and he's failed now.
He squeezes Jedao's hand again, a type of desperation.
Holding onto reality can be hard enough on the best of days, this isn't the best day. He's too distracted for even what would be his usual automatic denial that someone else should be sorry for anything.
"Are you here?" He blink, noticing the sting of tears before it's lost in the confusion of the sensory overload, the information even less organized than usual. "It wasn't his fault." If Jedao is here, that's important. He has to say things.
"I'm here. I'm here and you're here, I promise. Tell me how you know."
Not why do you think that - Jedao will, for the moment, assume Nico is correct. Despite his confusion about the situation, the frantic edge - speaks to him. And it doesn't do to underestimate Nico.
"The pattern -" He breathes carefully for a few moments, doing his best to deal with the pain (the familiarity of it, too many memories). He takes another moment to find words to back up his feelings. "The Enclosure. What people are made of. Made into..."
He twitches again, testing coordination. "Electric impulses. I should've been better." Hidden that he'd seen anything off. Moved instead of frozen as if he was still locked up, as if there was no point in trying. Other people might have been hurt.
"Could just be shadows..." He doesn't trust much, including his own judgement. He's been told it's wrong often enough.
He blinks slowly, trying to organize things again. Checking that all his senses are still saying he's on the barge. "There was this book, I was reading it before. I didn't bring it outside because I didn't want to lose it and so it got lost. Left behind. It said that a lot of - problems are just misapplied survival mechanisms. The brain responds the best it can to a situation. But then you're in a new situation, and you're left with maladapted behavior. And you lose books."
"That's...accurate." He lets his voice be a little bit dry. He lets himself swallow. He doesn't let go of Nico's hand. "I'm familiar with the phenomenon."
"Yes." He understands. "There's - no point. Not just no point in trying to fight, but in taking any action. Because nothing happens. Over and over." He squeezes Jedao's hand. "You try to move your hand but it doesn't work. Try to resist and it's just worse. So. Nothing. And then someplace else, they say there is a point, and I know it's true. And I can move my hand. So I should."
"No one breaks conditioning in the moment," Jedao tells him. "Echo damage doesn't happen in the logical part of the brain. But now you've got some mixed messages on the visceral level. You have to live with that -"
And if Nico thinks he deserves to suffer for his failure, well, the toll is miserable. Let that be it.
"- but it's also an opportunity. If you want to work on reducing your freeze response in the future, there are ways to do that."
"It's easier for me. Should be easier, to use logic. Our brains... regrow stuff. Reroute. They did lots of tests, and I could still think, even after them. Remember stuff. Pick up languages. Unnatural abilities, not dangerous but still inhumane." The last is a quote, but he'd spent years hearing it, with variations. Most of the time, he can hold on to refusing to think it's anything bad.
"The response... might be safer to keep it. They're not going to be any happier with us, at people who fight. It's sensible to be paranoid, because it's true."
"I don't think that necessarily follows. Children's brains are far more flexible than an adult's, especially for learning new languages. But you still can't teach a child to speak with - I don't know, just vocabulary flashcards. Even if they can pattern-match between script and image perfectly, they couldn't speak the language unless they heard it used in conversation. Just because it's easier for you to learn new things doesn't mean every method will be effective at inculcating every kind of knowledge."
He massages Nico's hand half absent-mindedly, the way he sometimes does for Fives after a long session of dueling practice, digging gently into the palm, working down the fingers. Partly just to have something to do, partly to give Nico a constant source of shifting sensory input that isn't just his pain.
"I think...it would be safer, in the long run, and less demoralizing for you, to have more ability in the moment to chose. To use your strengths, and be logical based on the situation. To be able to be still without being frozen. I think that's achievable for you. If you don't want to work on that - or don't want to work on it yet, or with me, I won't be angry, or disappointed, or anything. I'm certainly not an expert."
But on the other hand, he's not an expert. He's not a doctor. Jedao knows as well as anyone that an amateur can be less threatening.
"Recalibrating your brain is a big deal, and it's yours to decide what you want to work for and how and when. There's responses I'm still not ready to deal with, that I might never be. And you probably shouldn't make that decision while you're recovering anyway. But I'd be disappointed in myself if I didn't give you the option."
Nico listens, even as his eyes close again. He always listens, but he's well aware that some people's words have more weight than others, for logical reasons and not. Even when Jedao says things he doesn't know how to believe, they mean something. It means even more that he's here - though he's not sure that feeling is entirely his, not as mixed up as everything feels at the moment.
"I can see the threads that tie up my decisions, too." As well as he can see anyone else. "The reactions that seem reasonable from past experiences. Fear. Being able to process information before knowing it. If I don't learn how to do something, being able to hold onto the possibility that it could've changed anything. Knowing when that's true or not. After... Maybe someday." Not an evasion, this time, but it's an option he'll save to think more on when he can think more clearly.
"It hurts. Don't leave?" Something he knows Jedao can't change and a request he suspects is jumbled up with remembering another's feelings, but he desperately doesn't want to be alone. He can feel the edge of sleep, the half-rest distorted by pain he remembers so well, and, alone, he's not sure he'll be able to hold onto any reality.
Jedao leans over, presses a soft kiss into Nico's hair. Good boy, he thinks, for thinking about it, for not pushing himself too much. But he doesn't say it, too scared it would only sent Nico down a new spiral of denial and imposter syndrome.
"I won't leave," he promises. "I'll be right here. Would you rather have quiet, or my voice reading something for background?"
He struggles a moment, but, "Reading? If you don't mind...?" Sounds can too easily transform into something else, on the edge of consciousness. He remembers being sick, listening to a story. A good memory, one that had never happened. He pats vaguely at a pocket, remembering.
"Missy." He should check to make sure she's okay. He can't forget.
"Missy found Scott," Jedao tells him, since he's had more than time to keep up with ongoing public announcements. "She was unhurt when she reported it to the network. She's aware that Flood's the one making trouble, and whatever she decides to do, she won't get taken by surprise. Do you still want to talk to her before you rest?"
Nico might; it's a turbulent moment. Jedao isn't pushing him to wait, only giving him all the information he has.
Nico breathes out some of his sudden tension. She has the information, her choices will be informed ones. That's the important thing. His death isn't an important factor, he can tell her later. When he can think more clearly.
"Alright." He squeezes Nico's hand again. "There's also water if you're thirsty, I should have said that at the beginning - not cold anymore, but it's there."
He has enough awareness not to shake his head. "I'll drink - later." He's pretty sure he'd be sick if he tried to move, and his chest burns at the thought.
He can't fully fall asleep, despite the exhaustion, but he can drift along the edge; occasionally snapping half-way alert when he's dragged into old memories, before being grounded in the present again.
He's got a book Quentin recommended to him, already most of the way through thanks to the long vigil. He finishes it and starts over from the beginning, sips a little of the water himself when his voice goes scratchy. But he doesn't leave, and he doesn't stop.
"You're here." He blinks, sorting through slightly less confused senses. Not an auditory hallucination, good, that would be... troubling.
"Your cabin." That makes sense too, it fits. He coughs, biting his lip to push away the nausea that comes with the movement. Very slowly, he reaches up to feel a clump of hair with his fingers. His head hurts, but - "Already dead." He's pretty sure if he'd been alive when shot in the head, it would hurt a lot more.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
Revival
Date: 2018-07-25 06:00 am (UTC)Jedao is breathing next to him, with the steadiness of long patience, the tell-tale familiar texture of callouses and half-gloves where he has one of Nico's hands clasped gently in both of his.
Revival
Date: 2018-07-25 01:34 pm (UTC)A never ending room filled with books, running a wolf, a loving family, the kindness of strangers - a far stranger dream than most, he wonders if they've been trying out experimental drugs again. He feels sick enough for it. That's familiar. That feels real. The exhaustion, the headache, the pain in his chest - that's real. He can believe in that. He knows what to do, he knows that there's nothing he can do.
But that's not true, either. He's hallucinated before, lost in his mind or senses confused after a 'treatment' that leaves him smelling or feeling things that aren't there. But they're not like this. The feeling of the bed; the soft, unfamiliar sounds; the warm air easing his breathing; and the strange-familiar hands around his. All the elements tie together, all the facts fitting his memories.
He knows what happened. He remembers Teddy. The shots to the chest and the pain before he'd lost consciousness. He knows where he is. He knows who's with him. His hand tightens convulsively a moment, gasping.
"Sorry."
no subject
Date: 2018-07-25 05:32 pm (UTC)He spent several of the waiting hours trying to figure out what to say in response, something that would neither rebuke Nico for the impulse to apologize nor accept that he has something be sorry for. Preferably, not a platitude. The simple truth, in the end -
"I'm sorry too." Even if it would be absurd and unwelcome, for him to shadow Nico every hour of the day. Even though amidst the uncertainties of the barge, there's no such thing as perfect security. Jedao aches to protect him. He failed in the breach and he's failed now.
no subject
Date: 2018-07-25 05:43 pm (UTC)Holding onto reality can be hard enough on the best of days, this isn't the best day. He's too distracted for even what would be his usual automatic denial that someone else should be sorry for anything.
"Are you here?" He blink, noticing the sting of tears before it's lost in the confusion of the sensory overload, the information even less organized than usual. "It wasn't his fault." If Jedao is here, that's important. He has to say things.
no subject
Date: 2018-07-25 05:50 pm (UTC)"I'm here. I'm here and you're here, I promise. Tell me how you know."
Not why do you think that - Jedao will, for the moment, assume Nico is correct. Despite his confusion about the situation, the frantic edge - speaks to him. And it doesn't do to underestimate Nico.
no subject
Date: 2018-07-25 06:01 pm (UTC)He twitches again, testing coordination. "Electric impulses. I should've been better." Hidden that he'd seen anything off. Moved instead of frozen as if he was still locked up, as if there was no point in trying. Other people might have been hurt.
no subject
Date: 2018-07-25 06:09 pm (UTC)He tilts his head, decides to try a newish tactic.
"Okay. What should you have done?" His voice is measured, neither angry nor gentle. Factual. But don't just say it in your head, Nico, say it to him.
no subject
Date: 2018-07-25 06:19 pm (UTC)He blinks slowly, trying to organize things again. Checking that all his senses are still saying he's on the barge. "There was this book, I was reading it before. I didn't bring it outside because I didn't want to lose it and so it got lost. Left behind. It said that a lot of - problems are just misapplied survival mechanisms. The brain responds the best it can to a situation. But then you're in a new situation, and you're left with maladapted behavior. And you lose books."
no subject
Date: 2018-07-25 06:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-07-25 06:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-07-25 06:48 pm (UTC)And if Nico thinks he deserves to suffer for his failure, well, the toll is miserable. Let that be it.
"- but it's also an opportunity. If you want to work on reducing your freeze response in the future, there are ways to do that."
no subject
Date: 2018-07-25 07:03 pm (UTC)"The response... might be safer to keep it. They're not going to be any happier with us, at people who fight. It's sensible to be paranoid, because it's true."
no subject
Date: 2018-07-25 07:34 pm (UTC)"I don't think that necessarily follows. Children's brains are far more flexible than an adult's, especially for learning new languages. But you still can't teach a child to speak with - I don't know, just vocabulary flashcards. Even if they can pattern-match between script and image perfectly, they couldn't speak the language unless they heard it used in conversation. Just because it's easier for you to learn new things doesn't mean every method will be effective at inculcating every kind of knowledge."
He massages Nico's hand half absent-mindedly, the way he sometimes does for Fives after a long session of dueling practice, digging gently into the palm, working down the fingers. Partly just to have something to do, partly to give Nico a constant source of shifting sensory input that isn't just his pain.
"I think...it would be safer, in the long run, and less demoralizing for you, to have more ability in the moment to chose. To use your strengths, and be logical based on the situation. To be able to be still without being frozen. I think that's achievable for you. If you don't want to work on that - or don't want to work on it yet, or with me, I won't be angry, or disappointed, or anything. I'm certainly not an expert."
But on the other hand, he's not an expert. He's not a doctor. Jedao knows as well as anyone that an amateur can be less threatening.
"Recalibrating your brain is a big deal, and it's yours to decide what you want to work for and how and when. There's responses I'm still not ready to deal with, that I might never be. And you probably shouldn't make that decision while you're recovering anyway. But I'd be disappointed in myself if I didn't give you the option."
no subject
Date: 2018-07-25 08:34 pm (UTC)"I can see the threads that tie up my decisions, too." As well as he can see anyone else. "The reactions that seem reasonable from past experiences. Fear. Being able to process information before knowing it. If I don't learn how to do something, being able to hold onto the possibility that it could've changed anything. Knowing when that's true or not. After... Maybe someday." Not an evasion, this time, but it's an option he'll save to think more on when he can think more clearly.
"It hurts. Don't leave?" Something he knows Jedao can't change and a request he suspects is jumbled up with remembering another's feelings, but he desperately doesn't want to be alone. He can feel the edge of sleep, the half-rest distorted by pain he remembers so well, and, alone, he's not sure he'll be able to hold onto any reality.
no subject
Date: 2018-07-25 08:57 pm (UTC)"I won't leave," he promises. "I'll be right here. Would you rather have quiet, or my voice reading something for background?"
no subject
Date: 2018-07-25 09:05 pm (UTC)"Missy." He should check to make sure she's okay. He can't forget.
no subject
Date: 2018-07-25 09:20 pm (UTC)Nico might; it's a turbulent moment. Jedao isn't pushing him to wait, only giving him all the information he has.
"Or I could check in with her, or remind you."
no subject
Date: 2018-07-25 09:24 pm (UTC)"I'll remember. Thank you."
no subject
Date: 2018-07-25 09:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-07-25 09:57 pm (UTC)He can't fully fall asleep, despite the exhaustion, but he can drift along the edge; occasionally snapping half-way alert when he's dragged into old memories, before being grounded in the present again.
no subject
Date: 2018-07-25 10:02 pm (UTC)He's got a book Quentin recommended to him, already most of the way through thanks to the long vigil. He finishes it and starts over from the beginning, sips a little of the water himself when his voice goes scratchy. But he doesn't leave, and he doesn't stop.
no subject
Date: 2018-07-26 02:55 pm (UTC)"...Where am I?"
no subject
Date: 2018-07-26 05:28 pm (UTC)"You're in my cabin, on the barge. I'm real."
no subject
Date: 2018-07-26 05:43 pm (UTC)"Your cabin." That makes sense too, it fits. He coughs, biting his lip to push away the nausea that comes with the movement. Very slowly, he reaches up to feel a clump of hair with his fingers. His head hurts, but - "Already dead." He's pretty sure if he'd been alive when shot in the head, it would hurt a lot more.
no subject
Date: 2018-07-26 06:22 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From: