will i ever hear your voice again, the darkness is like an old friend...(OPEN)

Who: John Rambo and you!
What: John NOT at Merrymeet--shortly after returning, John discovered his partner, Siebren, was gone, and fresh wounds have been open ever since.
When: During/evening of or after Merrymeet for attendees who want to visit after the event
Where: Baker Ranch
Warning(s): canon typical warnings (PTSD, gun violence, death, etc.), touch starvation

John is grateful to be back, to be home. He's grateful that he is, in fact, still in fact at home. That losing again didn't change that.

That he still feels safe here.

John's currently in the middle of nowhere...sort of. He's a few dozen yards from the house and the workshop, sitting in the grass, watching Co and Bao mill about the grass and wishing he smoked. Or drank any significant amount, drinking might help take the edge off...

He's been a homebody almost since he returned. He can't help it, there's too many memories everywhere he goes, and even Merrymeet--fuck, he'd been looking forward to making some new ones there to heal old wounds, especially as rough as the holidays had been--is too much for him so he stays home.

A year ago, he started losing Sam there. This year, he thought he could salve that ache with some new memories. Dance with Laios and Dahlia, dance with the new Flower Queen...maybe he could even manage to enjoy the food with--

"Siebren."

He breathes the name sharply, sudden, an exhalation after being punched in the stomach. It hurts, losing him. Loving him wasn't just good for John, wasn't just a fresh source of joy, loving him felt good. Sure, love's great, but Siebren? He never looked at him as anything less than an equal in all things. Even intellectually, when in that John couldn't hold a candle to his brilliant, beautiful mind. He fought so hard to protect John from himself, saw so much good in him he walked into a personal darkness he feared to protect him.

Siebren loved him in a way few people ever had, and John loved--loves him--in a way he's afraid he'll never find again. All the hope his affection for Co Bao presented, all the fragile and precious purity he found in falling for Laios, with nuance and an understanding of personal darkness existing between them that made John realize just how good this strange and wonderful foray into having multiple partners was for him.

Now, that's gone--and he swore he'd tear the whole damn universe apart to get him back. To find him, no matter where he might be. It's a promise he will keep--but it's a promise he can't keep the way he wants to, which is fucking now. To hold him again, kiss that perfect, prominent nose and those cheekbones, to feel the weight of his power and the safety of being held by him again.

Today, with Merrymeet happening and a relatively empty house...it's too much. The bed he made love to Siebren in, the house he floated around in when he visited, the porch where he caught Siebren sneaking candy into everyone's shoes the day he confessed to loving him for the first time.

John had to leave, to walk until he couldn't find a memory of Siebren in the empty stretch of land.

Now, it's here he sits, keeping Co and Bao close, staring into the middle distance--and just tries not to think at all.

Not of Sam, who he lost last year. Not of Siebren, who he lost this year--and not of his beloved demon genius who risked losing him to save him.

He just tries...not to think. Not to remember.

Not to wish he could forget.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Alex had left Merrymeet early (much, as he will find out later, to his benefit). He had been surprised not to see John there, given that it was a celebration of spring, and he has a whole Thing about Serranai.

Worth checking in, he thinks.

He's gone and changed out of the suit he'd worn and makes his way to Baker Ranch. Koshka the Sprigatito is trotting along at his heels.

"John?" he calls out, looking for him. He's not going to wander into any field of grass willy-nilly. There are no landmines here...probably...but old habits died hard.

John is stirred from his thoughts by the sound of a familiar voice--another touch of safety, of home. It doesn't soothe the pain, but as he turns reflexively towards it, he feels a strange sort of comfort.

"Ten o'clock!" he calls out, gauging the direction of the voice without fully turning around. He sticks up a hand at the same time and waves--and when he does look over his shoulder, sure enough Alex is coming up from behind him in the correct direction.

At the same time, there's a rustle, and a chorus of bukbuk BUK! as Co runs through the grass to greet Alex and Koshka both, pecking Alex's shoe before strutting up to Koshka to try and preen the Sprigatito.

There's a rustle in the grass nearby. Not a stealthy one; almost a deliberate one, someone making known their approach without words.

If Rambo doesn't turn, he'll see the approaching person out of the corner of his eye, and then in more of his periphery as Edgar sits down nearby, still without a word, and rests his folded arms on his drawn-up knees.

John doesn't turn--not when he catches Edgar's scent on the wind. He lets him settle, lets silence linger for a few moments...then reaches over and hooks an arm around his neck to pull him into a sideways hug, with an added "noogie" that really isn't more than ruffling his hair.

"You should be at Merrymeet, kid." he admonishes without any real force behind it. "Having fun 'n such--and I'm saying that as a follower of Serranai, not just as your..."

...what? Dad? It doesn't feel like something he deserves, so he just lets it dangle and rests his hand on Edgar's head affectionately for a second before releasing his hold.

"What're you doing home early?"

"Ah, I'm gonna go back for the dancing," he says lightly. "Just figured someone ought to bring you some snacks at least."

And he starts taking things out of his pockets, wrapped carefully in napkins: little sandwiches in at least three kinds, three of the eggs in fried-potato nests, a jumble of pastries.

John watches as Edgar starts pulling...half the fucking spread from the party out of his pockets, and can't quite help but smile a little even through his ill humor.

"You didn't have to do that." he admonishes gently--even as he bumps his shoulder against Edgar's affectionately. "Just 'cause I'm a sad sack doesn't mean anybody else has to be--go back. Have fun...maybe dance with Max 'n tell him I said hi."

"Oh, definitely gonna dance with Max, no worries there." Flaky cheese puffs, a hunk of rosemary bread, a square of cake decorated with candied cherry blossoms. "But I dunno, I figure even if you don't wanna be around people right now, be a shame to miss all this good stuff."

Edgar puts down the last item -- a tiny tart with raspberries nesting in custard -- and gives John the most purely innocent look he can manage. "And you know, if you're not hungry right now, you could always save it for dinner. Who knows when I'm getting home tonight, and that."

"Good. That's good."

His tone is genuine, emphatic--but he's got no smile, staring down at one of those squares of cake. Picking off a candied cherry blossom, he remembers the taste of sugared violets on his tongue and pops the bloom into his mouth.

There's cold comfort in the fact that it doesn't taste like ash in his mouth.

"Want you kids to be happy." he continues after he swallows, breathing around that strange fresh flavor of flowers and sugar crystals. "You all deserve it--deserve to be loved."

Softer, trying and failing to not be heard...

"Someone ought to be."

Edgar's own smile fades, his brows tugging together, while John isn't looking at him. Even if he hadn't heard the last muttered words, he'd be concerned.

Low: "You know a lot of folks love you too, right?"

“I do—I absolutely do.” John replies without hesitation, with real sincerity—and, with a wry smile, reaches for the sweater on the ground near his hip, which he had peeled off not twenty minutes before Edgar showed up when he got too warm. The soft pile, the vivid colors, and who they came from…they’re a balm on his broken heart.

…but it’s not a cure. And, as he shows the sweater to Edgar, he’s not sure how to explain that.

“I’m never gonna be able to get my head all the way around just how much a lot of people here care about me.” He assures him. “I’m learning to see that much. Even now, even when I’m in pain.”

He can’t quite help the way he gathers up the sweater, pulling it against his chest—like someone might yet swoop in and take it away from him. Take Edgar and Radar and Kitty and so many others away from him.

“…but…I’m starting to wonder if there’s limits.” He admits softly. “If there’s a line in the sand…some things folks like me’re not supposed to have. Things…things I’m wrong for even wanting.”

"... What d'you mean," he says slowly, "folks like you?"

Like he's not sure yet how to react to that, and wants to be sure before he says anything.

Radar was so busy at Merrymeet that he almost didn't notice Mr. Rambo wasn't there. Honestly, he figured they just kept missing each other. He was probably off with Laios or Dr. de Kuiper or something, right? And then once that awful band started playing and sent the thorns shooting up everywhere... well.

It wasn't until he pulled himself together after the party, and really started listening to the latest wave of gossip, that he realized why he never spotted John.

So now Radar walks out to the middle of the field with his own menagerie at his heels: TJ, Treble, Nibbles tucked into the front of his jacket, even Bandit skulking a couple yards behind with fake disaffection like she just happens to be walking this way too. (Luckily, Greta stayed put back at the barn. No headbutts today.) Quietly, he takes a seat next to John; with care, he pulls not just Nibbles from the front of his jacket, but a vacuum flask and -- somehow -- two entire mugs he stuffed into his pockets. It's a roomy jacket, what can he say.

Subdued: "Hey, Mr. Rambo."

"You oughta be at the party."

That's his greeting, and there's no real force behind the admonishment. Turning towards Radar, he huffs out a laugh and reaches out to help him juggle his hidden...Jesus, what did he bring home, the whole snack table?

"Heard a rumor that our favorite girl was up for Flower Queen--how'd she do?"

Yeah, okay, it's real tough to be sad when Radar thinks about how Merrymeet started instead of how it ended.

"She won," he says, and a bright grin blossoms. "Even with all the monster and demon everything, they voted her first place. I think walking her up to get her crown might've been the best day of my life! And I even got a lil medal too 'cause I was her date."

Unfortunately, the smile can't hang on for long. He sighs. "But then a bunch of jerks from Efrain's court messed it all up. Jeez, why can't they just leave us alone for once? Seems like we can't ever catch a break around here sometimes." As he talks, he busies himself with the mugs and flask. "I mean I know it's 'cause everything's for-real cursed but it still stinks. Anyway, I wanted to pick up my animals before I went back to Dahlia's and check on you too since... since I didn't see you there."

He pushes one of the filled mugs toward John.

"I brought cocoa."

Edited 2025-03-06 15:59 (UTC)

When he says she won, John's reaction is immediate and visceral: a sharp little huff and a smile, fist punching the air in a short, reactive little gesture of triumph.

Fuck yes. She deserves it as much as John's sure she needs it, to be acknowledged and loved by her community, held up and celebrated for the person she is, and not the fucking species.

Before he can tell Radar to give her a hug for him, he's talking about Efrain's court coming in to spoil the party. Almost immediately, his joy dims in wake of...pretty intense guilt.

"I should have been there." he sighs, shaking his head. He accepts the mug, but doesn't drink, not right away.

"Merrymeet is a springtime celebration. Shouldn't have been home feelin' sorry for myself, I should've been there doing my job...fuck, I'm sorry, Radar."

Kind, but firm: "Hey, c'mon, no, don't be like that."

Before he grabs his own mug, Radar scoops up TJ -- a full sized Dachsbun by now -- and deposits him in John's lap. The bread-dog immediately gets to work making himself comfortable, sprawling to take up as much space as possible as he hooks his chin over John's knee.

"I'm okay now. And I wouldn't want you being sadder than you already are. It's bad enough what happened with Dr. de Kuiper without Efrain's demons makin' it worse." Quieter, he adds, "I'm so sorry."

On his other side, Treble leans her shoulder against Radar's with a soft, piping clef.

Before John can complain, he's got a lapful of warm, wriggly bread-dog, and within moments he's flopped himself into place with his chin planted, and all John can do is rub his head with a wry smile.

Two things you can't out-stubborn: a comfy pup, and Radar O'Reilly.

"Thanks, but honestly...I'm not even sure I should be surprised, regarding S--Dr. de Kuiper." he replies softly, staring down at TJ as Bao hops over to sniff at the dog, then clambers into his lap to join TJ for a snuggle.

"Might be family's all I'm supposed to have. Wanting more, just--setting myself up for punishment. S' why you should be at Merrymeet with Dahl. You, her, rest of the entourage, you got a good thing, and you're good for each other. I'm...I'll be okay."

Eventually. He's clearly not supposed to be with anyone. He's got Laios, but for how long? How long before they're separated, too?

How long before John's duties, John's loyalties, John's needs make him break another promise like he made to Siebren? How long before he hurts Laios like he did Sam?

How long is John going to try to be happy when it's just his lot to end up alone?

"You still got Laios," he points out, just as quiet. (He didn't even have to overhear John's thoughts for that one!) "I can't see a guy like that saying he doesn't wanna see you any more. And even if people just up and leave 'cause of the ferry sometimes I can't see him going without saying goodbye first, neither."

He's sure Laios would try not to go. He'd wait as long as he could, like Trapper did before he got on that flight home while Hawkeye was away. Make sure somebody knew he wasn't just walking away.

Radar gathers Nibbles into one arm and readjusts his grip on his cocoa. He sighs. "I... gee, I dunno. I always kinda hated it when I got dumped or a girl turned me down and people'd say it was no big deal 'cause I still had all my friends. It's a different kind of alone when you got people but you ain't got a person. I know. So... I'm not gonna say you still got us like it's all the same."

Gently, he nudges John.

"But you do got us. Even if it's different."

Radar gets it--he gets it, and he understands what it is John is mourning--what it is he's starting to think that, maybe, he shouldn't have.

That maybe he was right all along, and just wanting to have even one person is too much for him to ask.

But, again: Radar gets it. That his family, it's not the same...but having someone know what's really hurting, seeing the splinter in his soul even if he can't just pluck it out? Knowing he's not crazy or overreacting about the pain...

John drapes an arm around Radar's shoulders and drags him close in a clumsy hug, just pressing his face to the top of his head for a second.

"I know." he whispers against his hat, giving him an affectionate little jostle. "I do...you're right, s' not the same, but it's the only reason I feel like I can breathe through it. So thank you."

He leans into the hug without hesitation. "You're welcome, sir. John."

It only took close to a year, but he's finally starting to call him John sometimes!

"You want me to tell Laios he oughta come see you too?"

Hearing his name from Radar makes him smile. He can't help it, that really is a little victory--and a nice little sign that it's...real. That he's home, that Radar's not just part of the gang, but he sees John as family just as much as John sees ihm.

The question gives him pause, though, because...yeah, everything in him is screaming for Laios, for Max, for someone to get rid of this aching void in his chest. Something to do that isn't breaking something in frustration because he can't go chasing down the man he loves.

...and yet that gnawing doubt stops him.

You're wrong to want it. You're wrong to need it. You're not supposed to have it.

John's mouth opens and closes several times...but he can't make himself reply.

Which, in and of itself, is an answer in the affirmative: John may not want Radar to tell Laios to come by, but he clearly needs him to.

The maelstrom of John's heartbreak roars louder, a thunderous spin of emotion, splinters of pain cracking free to whip past his ears. Radar sits in its eye, silent, and just listens.

"Okay," he murmurs at last. He leans more comfortably against John's shoulder. "I'll tell him."

Of course he hears it. He always hears it, he always knows--and for all the shit that crawls around in Radar's head without him ever asking for it, he just keeps loving people anyway. Little soldier always defaults to love, to kindness, to being gentle.

It occurs to John, in that moment, that he's a tougher motherfucker than the whole of Special Forces put together.

With a watery smile, John kisses the top of Radar's head and follows suit, stroking the loafy dog in his lap and watching Co chase down some bug in the distance.

Thanks, Radar. he thinks quietly, and out loud he says...

"Love you, bud."

Ammy knows. She doesn't know what happened exactly, thanks to her long rest, but she can tell. The scent of sorrow on the air, dull and sharp at the same time. Loss has a particularly bitter taste on a spring breeze. Amaterasu knows it far, far too well.

So there she is, coming up not quite behind him. Where he can clearly see the shine of her coat, but where he doesn't have to actually look at her or even quite acknowledge her. Where the warmth she gives can spread without a word for a little while, until he's ready to speak.

Amaterasu knows loss, and knows that sometimes, you just need someone there for you. Who better than the goddess herself?

(And for little Co and Bao? Food, of course, though only once John is ready to speak. Amaterasu is friend to all animals, after all.)

John is aware of the pup, but doesn't turn towards her. He's familiar with her, remembers that day she found him the first time. He's heard enough about her to know she's definitely something else, something more...

And he almost wishes she weren't here. Weren't here to bring him a warmth he doesn't deserve, one he knew better than to try and reach for. He's grateful for his family, he loves them so much it hurts--he'd die for those kids, and he'd do it with a smile. They're everything to him, and a balm in moments like these.

But even Radar has Dahlia. John knows there's something there with Max and Edgar, maybe others...even Kitty probably has a crush on someone, but teenage girls can be cagey as hell about that shit.

He still has Laios...but John's starting to wonder if he's being a selfish bastard for that. For trying to reach for anything at all for himself, much less so much.

He drove Sam away. He lost Siebren, and he can't go find him like he promised. Laios has other partners, and it's right that he be there for them.

"Some people just shouldn't love, or be loved." he says out loud for Ammy's benefit. "Sometimes you just have to accept the hand you're fucking dealt...maybe that's what I gotta do."

Perhaps, the nicest thing about the sun is that you don't have to reach for its warmth. It is simply there. Amaterasu is not all powerful, and nor does she know all things (though she likes to pretend.) But her compassion for those in need is a bottomless wellspring, ever flowing.

"Sometimes." She starts, serenely walking more into his field of view, to sit in front of him. "Sometimes, the struggles of the world are a burden one must simply survive." She tilts her head, looking down at the ground in front of her, where grass sprouts slowly.

She looks up, slowly. "And yet... We cannot choose the ways we love, or when. It is simply the way of things." There's a weight to this, and a somber smile. Ammy remembers every person she has held especially dear, in her heart, and every person she has lost to the passing of time.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

will i ever hear your voice again, the darkness is like an old friend...(OPEN)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

There Is A Dog, And She's Here To Help.

no subject

no subject