[ Keeping track of days is hard when you're in a(nother) addled stupor in an attempt to dull things like trauma, and all the vulnerable, easily-exploitable emotions that sprout thereof.
But it's probably been about a week at least since the nightmare realm unraveled. Since he was on the run from the Soviets, and her. Since the bloody Darkness enveloped them in a pocket of the dream world where she could kill him again and again to her heart's content. Since John woke up - how, he's already figured out. It's the thing he's running from and trying to numb. The exact moment he was offed for good and freed of the slumber was the exact moment he vocalized that he Gave A Shit. Which was also why he took an absurd number of psychedelics and dove back in to get her out.
She'd awoken and in their usual idiom, neither of them had furthur discussed what had happened, and he gave her the space appropriate for a young woman nursing brand new mental scarring.
He's well into a bottle of something that would be more appropriate for medical sterilization when he picks up his phone, fumbling with the keyboard. What he means to write is reassurance, perhaps a reflection of what they've been through. He's overconfident, thinking he can articulate that which they've spent half a year burying. What comes out is... not what he aims for. ]
text; 1/2
But it's probably been about a week at least since the nightmare realm unraveled. Since he was on the run from the Soviets, and her. Since the bloody Darkness enveloped them in a pocket of the dream world where she could kill him again and again to her heart's content. Since John woke up - how, he's already figured out. It's the thing he's running from and trying to numb. The exact moment he was offed for good and freed of the slumber was the exact moment he vocalized that he Gave A Shit. Which was also why he took an absurd number of psychedelics and dove back in to get her out.
She'd awoken and in their usual idiom, neither of them had furthur discussed what had happened, and he gave her the space appropriate for a young woman nursing brand new mental scarring.
He's well into a bottle of something that would be more appropriate for medical sterilization when he picks up his phone, fumbling with the keyboard. What he means to write is reassurance, perhaps a reflection of what they've been through. He's overconfident, thinking he can articulate that which they've spent half a year burying. What comes out is... not what he aims for. ]
Hey