[Peter face grows hot once more, he's trying desperately not to feel, to not admit that everyone was right and he was hurting the people he once cared about, to admit that caring was something he once was actually good at...he wanted to shut it down, forget that part of him ever existed, to kill whatever empathy he had left.
He didn't want it anymore.]
Their hurt doesn't matter because they'll die!
[He spits it out, cruelly.]
I don't care if they're hurt, they're just gonna die. They're dead already.
[He doesn't say anything about the 'cry' or 'grieve'. Those were dangerous words.]
But you do care. If you did, you wouldn't have to be so forceful. You're trying to convince yourself, Peter, I can hear it.
[His voice levels into sternness, guarded disapproval.]
They're not dead yet. Days still have meaning. Years still have meaning. Their pain is not meaningless, just as ours isn't. Retreat if you must, if you can't handle the pain, but stop this, or I will stop it for you.
I don't know what you're talkin' about man, I really, really couldn't care less. [A scoff. Enoch was completely right, but he wasn't going to admit that out loud.] There's no pain to be handled. I'm fine.
[Retreat? That was probably a good idea. But he'd lose his mind from the loneliness. Better to bother people than be truly alone.]
Not to you. It would be hard to mistreat them with someone there to be able to take your tablet away from you when you begin to lash out at them. I am trying to protect these people, and I don't need you in my way. The town hurts them enough on its own.
[He doesn't flinch. Peter's tone of voice means nothing to him.]
You were ready to agree with me, to tell me how tired you were of losing them. And then I said your behavior was wrong, and that changed. I understand the pain of loss, Peter, but if you cannot stand to live with them then leave them alone.
It's, uh, it's Flynn. Carsen. [Because there are so many Flynns in the city and usernames don't exist.]
We haven't talked in a while and I was just, I've been meaning to call – also for a while – but you know how it is. "Oh no, anomalies. Oh no, starvation." [He chuckles awkwardly, then stops, because it's not funny.]
I was just wondering how you're doing, since, you know, we had this whole memory thing going on and Peter wasn't taking it too well and you were both doing the Immortal thing, being... immortal so I was asking myself if you were taking it well, and, anyway, call me back.
If, uh, if you want to, you don't have to, I just mean that... yeah. Bye.
[It kind of cheers him up, after the confusion of the mingled timelines and the alarming multitude of injections it took to correct them.]
I wasn't...doing what he did, you can rest assured of that. I appreciate the thought, but I fared well in that false future, all things considered. But what he did was born of pain. He just...handled it poorly. I should have stepped in to try to correct him sooner, before he could start-...
[Well. That.]
...Perhaps if he'd had more support from other immortals, he would have been different in the end.
It happened in some manner, in our hearts if nothing else...
[He'll apply that to mistakes with other people but not himself. That one timeline he remembers much more clearly than anything in the false future, the one where he had lost the last sliver of hope he'd ever managed to hold on to, that wasn't real. He doesn't have to think too hard about it.]
I'm...certain immortality is what I'm meant for now, and certain of the company I've chosen to keep in it. So, yes, I-...having experienced otherwise, I'm doing well. I know I could be worse.
That's good, that he has a friend here now. I can't imagine he took it well. Immortality can be a good thing, but it doesn't make a particularly pleasant surprise...
[He remembers the moment it made him break down... He's lucky he isn't inclined to the route Peter took.]
Oh, I know. I slept an entire day after it all ended...
[But more importantly...] I knew that, too, what it was for. I meant- now, looking back on how he was, he must- I know he wouldn't...he would regret what he had become. He stepped in to help everyone however he could, you know, even if it was only sharing music.
So you're just gonna...like...follow me around and take away my tablet so I won't be mean? [An incredulous scoff.
But Enoch was right. He just didn't want to own up to his behavior. Face the fact he was being needlessly cruel to people he once cared deeply for. Perhaps still cared incredibly deeply for.
But the alternative was to remain alone, and he just...
...it was terrifying. He knew he was going to end up alone someday. Well, besides the immortal crew. But his friends...eventually they'd stop appearing. Eventually they'd be gone for good. And the thought hurt. Worse than the hurt that was caused by merely talking to them.]
I'm not going to stop.
[I don't want to be alone, even if it's just people getting angry with me.]
Even the smallest slight can hurt out of all proportion to an already-hurting mind. Your behavior has the potential to be salt in all too numerous wounds.
Why do you insist on this? It doesn't need to be this way. Look at me, look at Castiel.
Unbiased? You were traveling with him, weren't you?
[He didn't see the rest of his post, unfortunately. He'd seen Beckett get upset at his own death video and ditched any effort to keep an eye on it then and there. So he has no idea what happened between Flynn and Peter after that. He knows they'd begun to argue and that they had been together in the vague sense that he'd picked it up sometime during the imagined time, but...that's about it. He just knows Flynn would've seen all of it and not just what was on the network, at least.]
Edited (needed more than that) 2017-12-08 01:33 (UTC)
[Flynn sobers at the thought. Even though his head is filled with an entire new set of fake memories he's still working through, their perceived lifetime in this city and the changes in Peter he lived through are still painful to revisit.]
Couldn't stop it from happening. I tried, you know? I mean, I think I did, everything has become really fuzzy in the aftermath, I don't remember the details but I remember... I remember trying.
Trying only goes so far from a mortal person, I'm afraid. After all, it's-... likely that to him you were the second or third Flynn in the town and that you were long dead. That's how I saw my own mortal companions. It makes attempts to help, ah...difficult. Painful, even.
[He swallows. He doesn't want to discourage Flynn but it's an unfortunate truth. The thing that had kept him grounded, in the end, hadn't been his self-appointed mission to see the mortals were as comfortable as he could make them, but the fact that Beckett was still alive, even if he had abandoned his sapience along the way to keep from breaking.]
[Flynn's voice takes a sharper turn at that. He understands the sentiment, can rationally wrap his head around the existential horror of the centuries but Enoch's explanation brings back other memories he actively tries to bury. Peter, angry and hurting, hurling those awful words at him.
You're dead to me! Who cares if I kill you, you're already dead!]
You two are not the first Immortals I've met. Maybe I can't relive what it must be like suffering through all that, fine. But I know it's possible to see mortals in a different light.
And maybe you need to stop being so insensitive. The people here are incredibly strong to weather what we've faced, but even the strongest have their breaking points. You insist on actions that push them closer to it.
I'd rather be boring than actively harming other people.
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