010. - Voice

[brokenweapon]

[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.

Comments

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

[lostundercover]

[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."

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

[brokenweapon.livejournal.com]

[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.]

Spam <3

[lostundercover]

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.]