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bigapplesauce2014-06-24 11:58 am
has_a_horn) wrote in bigapplesauce2014-06-24 11:58 am
Getting Out [Open]
[This is more or less a post so I have a reference for what actually happened that morning. He's not going to be interrupted, but you're welcome to use this thread to have your characters respond to Gabe's absence. And: suicide tw ]
It's barely light out when he decides. He'd be lying to himself if he said he was doing this to try to get back home. No one is waiting for him there. He's doing this because he's tired of the endless cycle of hope and disappointment. He's tired and he just wants it to be over. He wants to die.
He kneels down in front of Scout, eye to eye with the little dog, and digs his fingers into the wiry fur behind his ears, scratching and petting. The dog can tell that something is wrong. It might be Gabriel's unusually solemn attitude, or the determined set of his jaw, but the dog whines in response and steps forward on the bed until he can stretch forward and lick Gabriel's face.
"You'll be okay." Gabriel rests his forehead against the dog's head for a moment before pulling back and giving the dog as commanding a glance as he can manage, which isn't very commanding at all at the moment. "Scout, If Johnny is bad to you, tell Daine. Daine will make it better." He has no way of knowing how much of that Scout understands, but it makes him feel a little better about leaving him behind. His face softens and he pets the dog one more time before standing and vanishing from the room.
He reappears just outside of Johnny's door, Scout's leash in hand. As quietly as he can, he loops the leash over the door handle. Hopefully, it will be enough to get Johnny to investigate and find Scout when he leaves this morning. Hopefully, Johnny will take good care of Scout because Scout deserves good care.
He spends a few minutes feeling locked in cement, staring at the leash hung daintily around the handle, his thoughts racing. Johnny doesn't want his help. He's not powerless - he'll be fine. Everyone will go on as they were. Even the TARDIS. She has her Doctor again. She'll be happy when he disappears. Maybe not...immediately, but...eventually. Some already know it, but eventually everyone will decide that they are better off without him.
He rests a hand against the door frame and takes a deep shaky breath. It's another minute before he stands upright again and leaves the apartment building entirely.
An early morning jogger is just settling down to rest on the steps of the Bethesda Terrace when she's shocked by the sudden appearance of a short man in a light canvas jacket a short distance away. The man stands in front of the fountain, looking up at the angel statue for a brief moment, then walks around until he finds a spot that doesn't seem to have any significance, except to him.
The man trembles visibly in the early morning cold, and as he closes his eyes the jogger feels a sort of pressure building in the air. She wants to leave or interrupt, but something stops her from doing either. She sits still as the man takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and vanishes.
In the void, a man's scream echoes up across the terrace. Terrified, and finally able to move, she gets up and runs home.
It's barely light out when he decides. He'd be lying to himself if he said he was doing this to try to get back home. No one is waiting for him there. He's doing this because he's tired of the endless cycle of hope and disappointment. He's tired and he just wants it to be over. He wants to die.
He kneels down in front of Scout, eye to eye with the little dog, and digs his fingers into the wiry fur behind his ears, scratching and petting. The dog can tell that something is wrong. It might be Gabriel's unusually solemn attitude, or the determined set of his jaw, but the dog whines in response and steps forward on the bed until he can stretch forward and lick Gabriel's face.
"You'll be okay." Gabriel rests his forehead against the dog's head for a moment before pulling back and giving the dog as commanding a glance as he can manage, which isn't very commanding at all at the moment. "Scout, If Johnny is bad to you, tell Daine. Daine will make it better." He has no way of knowing how much of that Scout understands, but it makes him feel a little better about leaving him behind. His face softens and he pets the dog one more time before standing and vanishing from the room.
He reappears just outside of Johnny's door, Scout's leash in hand. As quietly as he can, he loops the leash over the door handle. Hopefully, it will be enough to get Johnny to investigate and find Scout when he leaves this morning. Hopefully, Johnny will take good care of Scout because Scout deserves good care.
He spends a few minutes feeling locked in cement, staring at the leash hung daintily around the handle, his thoughts racing. Johnny doesn't want his help. He's not powerless - he'll be fine. Everyone will go on as they were. Even the TARDIS. She has her Doctor again. She'll be happy when he disappears. Maybe not...immediately, but...eventually. Some already know it, but eventually everyone will decide that they are better off without him.
He rests a hand against the door frame and takes a deep shaky breath. It's another minute before he stands upright again and leaves the apartment building entirely.
An early morning jogger is just settling down to rest on the steps of the Bethesda Terrace when she's shocked by the sudden appearance of a short man in a light canvas jacket a short distance away. The man stands in front of the fountain, looking up at the angel statue for a brief moment, then walks around until he finds a spot that doesn't seem to have any significance, except to him.
The man trembles visibly in the early morning cold, and as he closes his eyes the jogger feels a sort of pressure building in the air. She wants to leave or interrupt, but something stops her from doing either. She sits still as the man takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and vanishes.
In the void, a man's scream echoes up across the terrace. Terrified, and finally able to move, she gets up and runs home.
no subject
Eventually, his body apparently set against any more sleep, he sighs and rolls out of bed. May as well get up. He brushes his teeth and considers his reflection (he really needs a haircut) before wandering out to the kitchen. Haircut, milk, eggs, bread. Most food, really. He makes some coffee and eats some dry cereal from the box, roaming around the apartment in a daze. Inactivity's starting to grate. For a while there it was nice to have nothing to do--just going out and wandering, or staying in and drawing, listening to music he's missed out on--spending time with Gabe. He sighs heavily. Maybe he'll call Charley up. Except he shouldn't, should he, he should wait for her to make contact first. That would be the courteous thing.
He drifts over to his desk. Half-finished tattoo designs all over it. He's given Gabe a few small ones but nothing really worth showing off. He should find a new subject, or design something better for himself. He should work on getting a real job. That would be something to do.
Yeah, that. He'll get a few groceries and try to be an adult.
He nurses his coffee and gets dressed, checking the allowance fund Gabe has been providing him with, of which there is still plenty. It accumulates well when he doesn't get out much. He pockets a twenty and heads for the door.
Something metal bangs against the door when he swings it open, making him jump. He peers around the edge of it a little nervously, but it's just--what is that, a leash? He stares at it, dumbfounded for a moment, and lifts it gingerly off the knob. Did Gabe put this here? Is this some kind of weird inverted tie-on-the-door invitation upstairs? Oh god, is this for Johnny? Would Gabe really try to smooth things over with a totally undiscussed suggestion of new kinky roleplay? Christ.
For a moment, while this still seems plausible, Johnny's a little outraged, and a little amused, in a hysterical, frustrated kind of way. But the longer he stares at it the more he realizes he's seen it before. This is Gabriel's, but it's not for him, it's for Scout.
Johnny frowns and backs into his apartment, setting the leash gently on his dresser. Maybe it is an invitation, but a much simpler one--going for a walk with Scout or something.
He debates it for a moment. He's not sure he's ready to talk things out yet, but... well, maybe he should stop avoiding it. It's not going to get any easier.
He heads upstairs and knocks on Gabriel's door. For a moment, nothing. He knocks again, and is rewarded with Scout barking and scratching at the door, sounding a little uppity, or maybe distressed? Shit, what is happening here? Johnny forces the door open with a very small application of his powers and steps inside.
Scout is overjoyed to see him, but still very anxious--jumping up and bracing on Johnny's legs, whining and whimpering even as Johnny bends down to pet him.
"Hey, hey," he says softly. "Easy, boy. Where's Gabe, huh?"
He straightens up and looks around. No sign of him. He checks the bathroom, the bedroom. Nothing. Scout follows him closely, still whining occasionally. Johnny's starting to get worried, his heart rate rising slightly. Where the hell is he?
Finally, impatient, he pulls out his phone and fires off a text. Where are you? He waits, pacing around, looking more carefully, maybe for a note or something. He tries again: Gabe, this isn't funny. I'm getting worried.
Scout is really upset now, turning in fretful little circles as Johnny continues to wander around uselessly. Frustrated, Johnny pockets his phone again and thinks as hard as he can, Gabriel, come here. I need you.
In the silence and emptiness that follows, the chill sets in, the certainty that something really is wrong. Gabriel has left. Or is being held somewhere. Maybe Romac, seeking revenge somehow? But then, why the leash? That had to have been done on purpose. If it was Gabriel trying to ask for help, it would have been more clear, or... sent to someone who could actually do something.
Johnny looks at Scout, uncomprehending. "Where'd he go, Scout?" he says softly.
Scout only yips at him, a sad little sound. Johnny crouches down to try and offer more comfort. He glances over at Scout's food and water dishes, and suffers a sinking feeling in his gut. Oh, christ. That's what it is. Gabe's gone somewhere, maybe to avoid him, or who knows what, and he expects Johnny to take care of Scout in the meantime.
Fuck.
No longer sure if he's worried, hurt, or annoyed, Johnny clicks his tongue, straightens up again and gathers up the dishes. He fishes out Scout's bag of food and tucks it under his arm.
"Come on, buddy," he coaxes, hefting the armload so he can open an easy path into his apartment. "Come on, it's okay."
Scout follows him through, sniffing around a little suspiciously, but quickly distracted by all the new smells in Johnny's apartment. Johnny sets the food down and arranges the dishes in his kitchen, filling one with water. He slumps into his desk chair, watching Scout scamper around, getting used to his new digs. Eventually the dog pads back up to Johnny, looking at him expectantly, tongue lolling out as he pants. At least he's in marginally better spirits now.
"Goddammit," he murmurs under his breath. He has no problem looking after Scout, but the manner in which it was done is arresting. It seems unlike Gabriel. Maybe Gabriel's angrier with him than he thought. Or maybe something else.
No good to go over possibilities. He still had a plan for the day, right?
He breathes out slowly. "I don't know about you," he says to the dog, "but I need a fuckin smoke." He stands back up and straightens himself out, gathering up the leash. "Come on, let's go perambulate."
Scout hurries up to him, excited to go out (or maybe he thinks Johnny will take him to Gabe). Johnny hooks the leash onto his collar and leads him outside, lighting up as soon as he's in the fresh air. He smokes slowly, walking in a half-daze and wondering what the hell is going to happen.
no subject
Something large must have crossed the rift, and rather close by, but when she reaches out for the center of the disturbance still rippling and shifting violently, there's nothing out of the ordinary. Except, there is, the faint sense of something familiar. She tries to focus on it despite the way it seems embedded in the harrowing chaos of the rift, but it remains just vague enough that she can't place it. What she's left with is inexplicable dread, weighing on her heavily, giving her rooms and hallways the air of a church during a funeral.
It's a long time before the rift settles down, as much as it ever settles, and even longer before the Doctor's steadfast comfort and gentle reassurances convince her to file away the unknown anomaly like any other.