station72 | mental link; whichever day is today

[The mental voice is... hesitant. Like he's trying his best to modulate his tone, and not sure if he's speaking too loudly or too softly.]

(This has probably been a long time coming... but I have to admit. I'm not good with people in my head.) [A flicker of regret and flashing images quickly stifled.] (Or at controlling what goes through my mind. Someone here called them flashbacks. Guess that works out.)

(It's a long story.)

[So please don't ask, goes unsaid, but like a lot of things here, it's probably felt.]

(But it's been affecting others here, and for that, I'm sorry. I need to be better at this. So I'm asking for help...)

[So he doesn't accidentally overwhelm the wrong person with the wrong memory. Or panic right in front of someone.]

(And before anyone asks - the answer to 'are you okay' is ... not something I want to talk about right now. Sorry.)

[Wait, wait, crap. How does he close this. There's a flustered feeling before just... the mental image of a closed comm connection. He figures that's as good as anything.]

[For anyone who wants to talk in person, he's hauled himself back up onto the roof, bundled up into an oversized hoodie. Black, of course. Hands shoved into his pockets. Probably being all brooding-looking while inside, he's just wondering what it's like to pilot one of the vehicles he sees zooming around.]

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[ Rather than respond mentally, Bellamy dogears the page he'd paused on in his current poetry anthology and goes to find Shiro in person. Between Bellamy's novice attempts at control and the fractures in Shiro's mind, talking in person seems like a better option. It's hard to ignore the thrumming sense of connection between them, but Bellamy's had better luck not agitating it when the focus is on their physical presence and verbal communication. ]

It doesn't come easy, [ Bellamy tells him, skipping greetings entirely. It's not as if Shiro couldn't sense him coming. ] But you get the hang of it.

[ It's an empty comfort. It doesn't take the sting off what a momentary loss of control could reveal. Bellamy understands that. ]

Can I sit?

[At least he isn't stiffening this time. Or pulling physically away from the sensation. It's progress, right? Some sort of slow, painful progress. He has to think of it that way.]

[So when he feels the approach, he glances toward the door with a nod, and a flicker of a rueful smile.]

So I keep hearing.

[Sorry if he sounds skeptical on the matter. It's been two or three times too many of letting something slip out. Of dragging people into places not even he really wants to be.]

[Who knew if it would be worse, if it happened again?]

Sure. If you want.

[ Bellamy understands. It's mortifying to be laid so bare, and have the weakest, most shameful aspects of oneself on display. He can't even offer a concrete solution, just an assurance that it would get better at some future point. It's hardly enough. ]

Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?

[ It's an open offer. The last person whose nightmares he'd coaxed out had been Charlotte. Her face flickers in Bellamy's mind, young and terrified, relaying private fears. It fades without resolution, but the impression that she's long since passed out of Bellamy's life is clear. ]

I like long stories.

[ His tone goes wry, self-deprecating as he references the growing pile of books waiting for him in his room. ]

[For a long while he's quiet. Debating internally. It has to come out sooner or later, doesn't it? Especially between people he's more linked with than others. Maybe it's better if they have warning.]

[A lot of that line of thought is probably evident on his face. If not in his head -- the thoughts of 'what if', or 'it's for the best' versus the idea of everyone looking at him differently. Pidge knows. But that's different. She's his team.]

I'm sure I don't want to. But it probably needs to be said at some point.

[The flickering faces in thoughts that aren't his makes him look up. Concerned. Like usual when someone else is thought to be distressed.]

You've done this before?

[ "This" is broad enough that Bellamy could twist it any number of ways. No one would blame him for being evasive. Even within his brood, it's not unexpected to feel people recoiling away from uncomfortable truths. But he came here to try to help, and so — ]

You're not the only one who has nightmares.

[ But Bellamy doesn't know how to slay the monsters in his head, let alone the ones that he's caught flickering through Shiro's. That advice will be as useless for him as it was for Charlotte. ]

I understand.

[ Both the having of the nightmares and the reluctance to speak of them. He isn't even certain it would help Shiro, but maybe it would lessen the shame of it all. ]

I didn't mean to make it sound like I was.

[Just in case that's part of this. He doesn't really believe it is, but it never hurts to try and be diplomatic where he can. Especially when he can tell someone else is offering up assistance.]

... I'm sorry.

[Sorry that someone else has to go through the same unconscious problems as him. No one should have to.]

How do you do it? Get through them?

You didn't.

[ Reassuring, aware that maybe he's phrasing this wrong. Commiserating about something so personal doesn't come easily to him. Bellamy used to walling himself off and internalizing everything that troubles him rather than admit he's suffering. Even attempting to bare some of this to Shiro feels like a misstep, but he pushes onward. ]

Wake up, [ Bellamy's a little wry about that admission, shrugging a shoulder again. ] I read until I get too exhausted to sit up. Sometimes that helps.

[ Being too tired to dream, it's not the worst approach. ]

I figure some day it'll stop being so overwhelming. I just need to survive long enough.

[ Just be strong. That's how to handle this, right? ]

[The reassurance earns a brief smile in return. Fleeting. But the subject moves on, and so does his expression. Into listening, into a lack of judgment. He's not one to pass it on anyone here. Especially not about a subject like this one.]

I've always tried sparring. Sometimes that works.

[No, it's not the worst. And it's the only one that actually helps sometimes.]

Sounds like we're in the same boat more than not.

[ Sparring. Bellamy's thoughts flicker towards Lincoln, then shift towards the nest, to Kylo and Bruce by turns. He shakes his head a little in acknowledgement. ]

You can ask me, you know, [ He offers, because why not, if Bellamy's awake? ] I wouldn't mind the practice.

[ And it's a productive way to wind down from a nightmare, at least. Bellamy's making progress with his hand to hand skills, but he' still doesn't measure up to so many people within the Nest. He's too prone to launching himself headfirst and trying to batter them into submission. That only works when he's squaring off with other humans, not robots or whatever else they're likely to run into. ]

You're sure?

[He's a little surprised. He hadn't pictured Bellamy for someone who liked sparring. Let alone thought it was a good way to unwind. To refocus. The look on his face probably conveys that just as well as their link.]

[He wouldn't mind -- but --]

... I wouldn't mind. But it's more you I'm worried about.

[As he holds his metal hand forward, in explanation.] It doesn't always work how I want it to.

mental link; whichever day is today

skips to the roof.

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