brokenweapon | 010.

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010. - Voice

[Bourne has his regular voice back and his regular body back and how happy is he about this? So damn happy.]

Oh thank God, it's over. I hate floods.

[Private to Costigan]

I owe you an explanation. And probably a drink.

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[The former undercover had also learned the value of being alone and not needing to worry after others. Even Madolyn hadn't been relying on him in any way. It was easier not to trust people when you didn't expect them to trust you, though he often got closer and more attached than he cared to admit. It was his deep-seeded loyalty at play, and it came through in the way he acted with Jed now, and with Bourne. The man was something too akin to himself to ignore and he was slowly coming to terms with that fact.]

"I wouldn't have told me either." [Costigan offered, to put an end to Bourne's seeming internal debate. Although he was oblivious to the warden's reasoning, he wasn't certain how hard he would try to convince someone of a harmless and potentially irrelevant truth. He didn't realize that he was happier as a female; in fact, with the brief glimpse of Madolyn, he had since felt more empty and pained inside. But he had smiled more, certainly. Been more personable.

The inmate endeavored to scrub the fatigue from his eyes with a rough palm, inhaling a deep breath and letting out a larger yawn which he immediately tried to stifle. Then his gaze shifted to Bourne again and he offered him a light shrug. He was too tired to argue about this. Still, that ignorance was nagging at the back of his mind.] "Why didn't you?"

[ooc; Vivi told me tonight that Az would have given him the meds during the flood, but I was assuming not. So we'll say he just got them at the end of the flood, and hasn't taken them yet because he's debating whether it's better to finish detoxing or to start again.]

Edited 2010-03-08 11:00 (UTC)

[OOC: Makes sense to me.]

[Bourne found it difficult to answer the question. He felt like he'd already revealed too much about himself in their last talk; that he was prone to what looked like seizures, that he'd had a girlfriend named Marie whose death he felt responsible for, that he had such an aversion to killing children. Not that he had issues with his own identity. Not that it was difficult for him to weigh happiness against truth. If forgetting who he had ever been would bring her back, he'd do it in a heartbeat. Sometimes happiness was better.

He'd read somewhere, some time ago: Truth is neither good nor bad. It simply is. He should have told the truth. He should have said something.]

"Because in my value set - because knowing what I know, going through what I've gone through - I value happiness because of its rarity. And you seemed happier. I thought you deserved that before the flood ended." [He sighed, rubbing at his eyes, his hands sliding up over his forehead and hair before he folded them in his lap again.] "But it wasn't my choice. Between happiness as a lie or misery as yourself - not my decision to make. I'm sorry."

[There. Cards on the table. Costigan was free to hate him for it, but it was the truth.]

[Costigan stared at the floor as Bourne spoke, listening with an even sort of expression despite the pain that began to fester inside of him. His eyes were fixed upon a knot of wood at the base of one of the legs of his desk, as though not looking at the warden might make his words cut less deeply. 'You seemed happier.' It was enough to make the inmate sick and there was no question in his mind, in that moment, that he still needed the medications and there was no way he could get over them right now.]

"You're sorry?" [His voice sounded strangely detached, trying to stifle the frustration, hurt, and sheer confusion that the words might bring him. Shaking his head for a second, his eyes then met Bourne's with a fierce intensity that held all determination the inmate could muster, which was quite the sum.] "Fuck you. You're right that you have no-- no fucking right to make that choice. Here I thought we were supposed to be fucking friends and what-- what is this? You just decide what's best for me while--" [He put two fingers to his head to mime a gun.] "--the Admiral's fucking with my mind and my memories? If you forgot about Marie or some shit, you think you wouldn't want me to tell you about it?"

[He stood, moving toward the door.] "You're fucking ridiculous. Get the fuck out of my room."

[Bourne did something he didn't often do - he sat there and took it. Because Costigan was right. The former asset's fuck-ups were few and far between, but when they happened, they were always bad - Goa, we got careless, I got careless - and even though nobody was dead yet, this one wasn't anywhere near good.

Costigan had considered him a friend, and he'd betrayed that because - because he couldn't find the right way to tell him? What the fuck was that? He'd never been overly concerned with people not believing him before, nor with any awkwardness that might have arisen as a result.

Maybe that had been his first clue that Costigan was becoming a friend to him. And he'd dropped the ball, he'd ruined it. The first damn good thing to happen to him in a while, and he'd ruined it as sure as staying too long in Goa had killed Marie.

The mention of her was like a punch in the face to him, and perhaps a flicker of hurt, of guilt, showed itself on his face before he schooled it back into neutrality.] "Yeah. It's best if I -- yeah." [That was strange in and of itself; Bourne wasn't one to stumble in his speech. Costigan's words had obviously rattled him. He walked to the door, and out through it. A further show of contrition, however sincere, would just screw things up more.

He walked down the hall for a moment, finally half-collapsing against the wall, leaning on it with one arm, his hand covering his eyes.] "God damn it!" [The curse was punctuated with the thump of his fist against the wall, his voice half-choked with emotion. Then, just as abruptly as the moment of anger had come, it seemed to pass. He stood upright, distancing himself from the wall, and went up the stairwell and out of sight.]

Edited 2010-03-10 16:11 (UTC)

Costigan realized just how much he had impacted the warden and was grateful for it. It meant that the next time they spoke, there would be more gravity to his words. Plus it set very clear lines as to where their friendship was and was meant to be. He had to justify every way in which his speech was good, because he didn't want to recant any part of it. Not now, at least.

The former undercover watched Bourne leave, saw his temporary vulnerability in the hall, and then his retreat to the stairs. It hurt him because it was all too familiar. Watching Bourne was, in some ways, watching a reflection of himself and that was uncomfortable.]

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010. - Voice

Re: Spam - We sure are. <3

Spam - The answer is because Alex didn't think it through, hurrdurr.

Spam - This is perfect setup for missing runs and the log, see?

Spam - Aaand CUE THE PHIL COLLINS. "Well if you told me you were drowning, I would not lend a hand~"

Spam <3