orifice | ☞ like nobody's won and we're safe at the end.

who jack + isaac
what now with 70% more fourth-walling
rating pg-13
warnings video game trauma.

[ It's a new thing every day, Isaac finds as he walks past the television. Gaming systems have come along way (at least what he's seen), but ultimately, it's all the same. He glances around the apartment briefly, a slight prickle of paranoia riding the rise of his spine. These definitely weren't there before, but then again--the television didn't plug in, the goddamn house ran off of embarrassment, and well. Just well. Leaning down, Isaac grabs the controller and sees the pair of cases that are laid out next to it on the low coffee table.

Haha. No.

You can't be. This is not serious. This isn't even real life right now.

Isaac picks up the top one and hums, popping in the disk. Oh hey. There's the remote (where the fuck were you when we needed you the most, asshole?) Slumping down on the couch with the controller in both hands, he passes through the introduction without much of a qualm aside from the fact that he ends up tilting his head a bit. Oh hey, Jack--Great things. Definitely great things. Except then the plane's going down and Isaac is cocked forward in his seat, clearly concerned that they just went down in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

The game is pretty interesting (not every day you get to play as someone you know).

"Now, would you kindly find a crowbar or something?" the game says.

There are those words. ]

( BIOSHOCK | DEAD SPACE | THAT NIGHT )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Isaac doesn't wait, just lays his head down, resting on his side with his hands under the pillow and inching a bit under the blanket. He'll give Jack his due space. Being here... it's better than being on the couch. His heart races just a bit less. This is an improvement. ]

[Jack takes a deep breath, but... it's not a big deal, right? The bed definitely is big enough.

He lies down again on his back and closes his eyes, listening to Isaac's breathing.

It's strange, how it's something of a comfort.

He falls asleep again.

He has no idea how long he sleeps before nightmares come out in full force.

It's never coherent, never one thing for long, just an incomprehensible collection of voices and feelings he's too familiar with: the ravings of the splicers, the thud-thud-thudding of the Big Daddies passing by, the glow of the Little Sisters' eyes, the sound of gunfire, the feeling of plasmids burning on his arm, the weight of weaponry, the orations of Andrew Ryan and the smooth lies of Atlas.

Would you kindly, would you kindly, would you kindly...

Obey, obey, OBEY...]

[ The feeling of sheets against his skin, a soft shirt over his chest, it melds, turns hard like an undersuit, like an oversuit, like the small, smart metal claws changing in metal plates for bigger, stronger armor. The soft glow of his RIG in the dark, the scraping of talons on the ground and the wet roars and choking noises surrounding him.

It's a plasmacutter in his hand and his breath coming fast.

It's Nicole's sweet, pale hand around his throat and the sound of children singing--

Ring around the rosie
This evil thing it knows me.

Oh how it knows.

It knows and Isaac has seen what no man should see.

So when he wakes up, bracing himself on his hands, dampened brow, chest heaving, he turns a bit to look at the other on the opposite side of the bed. ]

[OBEY

OBEY

OBEY

OBEY

And Jack is awake, gasping for air that isn't stifled by endless circulation, closed in by fathoms upon fathoms of ocean, hands flexing for weapons and plasmids that aren't there.

The nightmare clears away in the face of wakefulness, and Jack puts his hands to his face, groaning quietly. He would have been happy on that farm where they put him, if they'd let him, but no, he wasn't made for that was he.

He was made to bring ruin to Rapture, so it could be recreated in Fontaine's image.

It's too late and he's too tired for thoughts like this but they persist, they won't be denied. He lets his hands fall to his sides and glances over at the other side of the bed and finds Isaac looking at him.

He freezes.]

[ Isaac breathes out slowly, as if he's been holding it, watching Jack turn uneasily, shoot up. ]

... Hey...

[Jack stares for another moment before lying back down with a frustrated sigh.]

Hey.

[ Isaac follows suit briefly, body landing with a dull thud. The ceiling, stark white and plain, leaves room for too much imagination and Isaac closes his eyes to avoid the images. ]

Bad dream?

[ He hazards it, fingers moving a bit down on the sheets. He can feel the slight warmth from Jack's own hand just there. Even at a small distant, it remains comforting. ]

Yeah.

[Always bad dreams. Every night, even if he doesn't remember them exactly upon awakening. This one was worse, probably because of the games, the too-clear memory of everything he's been through, the vivid depiction of everything Isaac's seen.

He shifts and his hand moves and comes into contact with Isaac's and he stops, the sudden reminder that Isaac is real, solid, and there giving him pause.]

[ Isaac is slow, fingers moving one at a time from the littlest to his pointer finger. They enact careful movements, one by one lifting and falling over Jack's knuckles. A touch. ]

Same.

[The contact is more comforting than Jack would have guessed. Jack breathes quietly, slowly, regaining calm.

He cautiously turns his hand to take Isaac's in his, trying not to imagine the chains on his wrists, a constant reminder of what he is.]

I'm not really surprised.

[ It's a soft laugh that comes from him as he closes his eyes a bit, lets his fingers just gently rub along the line of Jack's knuckles. ]

Can't say I am either. Nightmares. All of it. In the flesh.

Yeah.

[He's so tired of it all.

But Isaac understands, like nobody else.

He shifts a little bit closer, closing the distance between their arms, intertwining just a little as Jack listens for Isaac's breath, feels the nearness of him, the truth of it.]

[ There's a catch in the breath. It's something unexpected, Jack moving closer, but there's comfort in it all the same and he shifts accordingly. Their shoulders press and he exhales, closing his eyes. ]

We'll be okay.

[ There it is again. Reassurance. Aloud. They have to be okay. It isn't fair if they won't ever be. His fingers shift a bit move to grab Jack's hand firmly, pressing into his warm palm, thumb still dragging over his knuckles. ]

[Jack sighs, returning the grip.

They'll be okay.

They have to be.

Their lives have been so unfair up until this point, it has to even out eventually.

It has to.]

[ There's something that puts him at ease about this proximity--he swears in the dark he can hear his heart. It's in your head, he thinks, all in your head, but comfort is something he'll take--in his head or no.

Isaac is slow about the next move, lifting his other arm and placing the weight around Jack's waist just slightly. Another affirmation. I'm here, okay? Nothing too big, just... you're safe. ]

[Jack senses Isaac's movement before he feels the arm across him. He turns his head to look at Isaac in the darkness and for a while just... looks at him.

He leans his head to meet Isaac's, foreheads touching gently. He takes in a very deep breath and lets it out very slowly.

He closes his eyes.

He does feel safe.

He opens his eyes again. Do you?]

[ It's a question spoken into the dark without lips, without a voice, and as their foreheads touch, he closes his eyes. A smile picks at the corners of lips slightly.

Yeah. I do.

All before he leans in and presses his lips to Jack's--lax and soft. ]

[The kiss is accepted and returned without any demands or even requests. It's warmth and safety and acceptance without any strings attached, and that's all Jack needs right now.

That and some actual sleep.]

[ Isaac pulls back and it's definitely time to sleep, the feeling of warmth from another body odd, but not unwelcome as he adjusts his head on the pillow and finds himself slowly drifting out. ]

[Jack sighs one last time, his eyes sliding shut as sleep takes him once more.

This time, mercifully, there are no nightmares.]

☞ like nobody's won and we're safe at the end.

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