[Well. This is certainly new. The way Simon carries himself is different from the twitchy, unsure boy he'd met before in Red Wings. His posture is much more straight, and even his voice has deepened slightly. Wade recognizes the sign of bravado almost immediately-- hell, he'd been guilty of it numerous times when he was Simon's age.
Still, no reason to burst the kid's bubble that quickly. Might as well see where this goes. Wade shrugs before falling into step behind Simon.]
You're the boss, boss. Though I'd be obliged to know where you're takin' me. Is this gonna take long? Cause, like... I'm startin' to regret all those energy drinks I just had, 'f you get what I mean.
[Simon stops in place, balling his left hand into a fist. Wade will notice that it's bandaged, and to be fair, the pain alone is what causes Simon to flex his fingers.
He looks down first, too ashamed to flicker his gaze upwards and make eye contact, though he does eventually. He hates being this helpless, but he had seen how Wade had looked at him in the diner. As much as Simon hates asking for help, he also doesn't want to die in his sleep, either from starvation or an attack from an untrustworthy team member.]
I don't think I wanna stay at the safehouse anymore.
[Play the sad kid angle.
It may stink, but it's likely to work.]
But I don't have enough money to find a new place to stay, and...
It's not like I have many friends here.
[Toy with his emotions, Simon. After all, adults are always like that- Thinking that their rules and regulations are for the best. Wade will probably get some kind of smug satisfaction that he is Helping, and that will serve Simon well if he wants a more comfortable place to stay.]
You were pretty nice to me that day when I arrived, so...
I thought I'd ask you for a favor. I hope that's okay.
[It's an odd request, and one that Wade ultimately wasn't prepared for. His brows furrow in surprise and concern, his gaze lowering from the pitiable look on Simon's face to the bandage on the young man's hand. Had that been there before? He can't remember.]
How did you hurt yourself?
[There's barely any emotion in that voice. It doesn't even sound like a question.]
[His temper flares as easily as that of a feral stray cat, although pity is what he's going for, isn't it? That's the angle. He has no choice.
Simon grits his teeth, taking a second to compose himself as he plots his next move.]
I broke somethin'. Somethin' of yours, maybe. Or, gosh, y'know what? It must belong to whoever it is who owns that dump.
[Bitter, bitter, bitter. He means Red Wings.
He is unused to concerned adults. Since the formation of the Apex, Simon and Grace have not had the fortune of running into many. He hates learning that he apparently looks as pathetic as he feels on the inside most of the time.]
A glass.
[Oh, shoot. Wade already seems to think of him as some kind of pathetic, scrawny weakling. He has to clarify-]
Easy there, cowboy. It was just a question. Wanted to make sure there wasn't anybody gunning for you or anything like that. No one needs that kinda heat on them, y'know?
[He looks over Simon's bandaged hand with a more scrutinizing gaze before sighing.]
C'mon, then. If we're gonna have a conversation like this I'd prefer it was back at my place. I can help you dress that proper while we're at it. You comin'?
His shoulders droop once more. Here, he is a nobody. Not a rival to be reckoned with or even a threat to be put down.
He is nothing, once again, null and void.]
Look, what was I supposed to do? It's not like I had more than one hand to patch it up, I-
[Simon might be mumbling and grumbling, but he follows, having to walk a little faster to catch up with Wade's steps. The mercenary's got quite the wingspan on him. Err, legspan? Anyway.]
[This kid's kind of a pill. Wade kind of lets him blow off steam as he tags along behind him, and yet despite himself he can't help but feel a grin threatening to stretch his lips.]
Hey, you don't gotta explain yourself to me. You know how many times I've patched myself up over the years? I'm just sayin', you gotta wrap it up the right way if you expect it to not go all shit-shaped later on.
Approach it like you'd approach sex, y'know? Gotta wrap that shit up properly.
[He finally lets out a chuckle, crass and juvenile.]
[Holy shit this kid's a spaz. Wade stops momentarily at that scream, taking a moment to make sure Simon isn't reacting to any wayward monsters before regarding him with an incredulous look on his face.]
...You doin' all right there, champ? You wanna keep headin' to my place or d'you wanna keep wallowing in your existential crisis or whatever the heck's going on?
[Simon goes as far as to hold himself with both arms now, snarling through gritted teeth.]
This better be the last time I get moved around!
[He wants more than anything to return to the Train. Grace and the Apex are waiting for him...
But as comfortable at that role may be, and as much as he enjoys having a Leader, a savior, and a best friend? He's never had the chance to wield this much power.
Simon has a feeling that this is his only shot at finally being the general he's always dreamed of. Anything is better than being a panicked, clumsy little kid.]
[Simon hates that he has had to explain himself so many times in this place. Still, Wade has actually been a fairly good listener, and for that the teen will provide an explanation.]
I didn't have to think about this kinda stuff before. Or, well, I guess I've thought about it, erg-
[He is turning red. A finger reaches for a stray tuft of blond hair to tuck behind his ear, but oh would you look at that- It touches air.
Right, new arrival thing.]
But it didn't matter. Like, there was just more important stuff to do, like makin' sure that our supply of rations wasn't running low, or fixing the gear that was broken so...
[Simon blinks.]
So that if we ever faced a threat we... Wouldn't be in as much danger.
[Wade crosses his arms over his chest; rolls his weight to one hip.]
And... because you don't gotta think about that stuff anymore, this place doesn't make any sense?
[He supposes it's not as confusing as it seems to be-- he doesn't know what type of environment this kid's used to, but he's been getting several context clues that it wasn't just high school and video games and trying out for the swim team. Something about the words Simon's been using-- "rations" and "gear" and "threat"-- make him think back to his military days.
And you always heard stories of soldiers who came back from war and couldn't handle everyday life, right? Something about the normalcy, of having to turn off that part of your brain that told you to be careful or you would die. Going into a grocery store and only having to think about what ingredients to get for dinner, not the safest place to take cover if the whole place got suddenly bombed. He can't say for certain that's what Simon's going through right now, but there's enough clues to be somewhat suspicious.
He shrugs.]
None of my business, in any case. Let's get goin', yeah? You're probably gettin' hungry. I know I am.
No, I do! Of course I do. Just because I'm in a new place doesn't mean I'm not gonna think about all this stuff-
[Because no matter where he is or who he's with survival is never truly guaranteed.
Simon stops himself when Wade is wise enough to redirect the conversation. The boy is childish, sure, immature even, however, he understands that Wade is doing this to placate him. He holds his bitterness within his chest, despising the fact that he is being treated like a baby, but he needs food and shelter.
Hey, no problem. I know I get super hangry when I haven't eaten in a while, yeah?
[Best to just keep the kid's attention on food, at least for now. He's obviously got a lot on his mind and probably very little in his stomach, and Wade knows from experience that that isn't exactly conducive to a jovial mood. It doesn't take them long to get to Wade and Nate's apartment, and Wade wastes no time unlocking the door, opening it with flourish.]
After you. Sorry about the mess.
[There isn't much of a mess-- living with a roommate kind of curtailed Wade's innate tendency to be a slob-- but the place definitely has a sort of lived-in look.]
[Simon, though fairly particular about his own living space, isn't the most judgmental when it comes to the abodes of others. After all, he spends most his time in a rundown, overly graffitied mall car.
After making his way through the door, Simon is visited by a wash of long forgotten feelings. While his room on the Train has been perfectly outfitted with everything he loves to be surrounded by, this space is markedly different. There's a kitchen and several shoes, a coat rack near the door, and many items strewn about to and fro that give the apartment character.
For a brief moment in time, Simon remembers being much smaller and hearing the door close behind him in a similar way after coming home from school. A woman's voice calls out to him-
No.
No. There was nothing good about that place or that time. He had forgotten all about it.]
[If Wade heard Simon's reply at all, he doesn't show it. Instead he busies himself with shrugging off his work shirt, revealing a black wifebeater underneath. He makes as if to toss it on the nearest kitchen chair, but then, as if suddenly remembering he has a guest, merely folds it over one arm.]
'ey, so I'mma go take a leak and then start some dinner. Make yourself comfortable, okay? Watch some TV or somethin'. Mi casa es su casa.
Wow, it's been so long. He hasn't seen one of these in ages, literal years. Quietly, he sets his sack of things down on the ground besides him and sits, falling onto the cushions like a sack of potatoes. Simon picks up the remote and turns on the little black box, although the pictures that dance inside it don't really occur to him.
Is this home, now? Is this place supposed to be home?
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Still, no reason to burst the kid's bubble that quickly. Might as well see where this goes. Wade shrugs before falling into step behind Simon.]
You're the boss, boss. Though I'd be obliged to know where you're takin' me. Is this gonna take long? Cause, like... I'm startin' to regret all those energy drinks I just had, 'f you get what I mean.
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WHY-
[He doesn't want to think about your bladder, Wade? Or the delivery system... For those energy drinks...]
Are you always this annoying?
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Not always. Sometimes I'm unconscious. Oop, no-- apparently I say some wild shit when I'm asleep, too. So I'm told.
[With a flick of his wrist, he waves Simon on.]
C'mon, big man, lead the way. Daylight's burnin' and my back teeth're floatin'.
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He looks down first, too ashamed to flicker his gaze upwards and make eye contact, though he does eventually. He hates being this helpless, but he had seen how Wade had looked at him in the diner. As much as Simon hates asking for help, he also doesn't want to die in his sleep, either from starvation or an attack from an untrustworthy team member.]
I don't think I wanna stay at the safehouse anymore.
[Play the sad kid angle.
It may stink, but it's likely to work.]
But I don't have enough money to find a new place to stay, and...
It's not like I have many friends here.
[Toy with his emotions, Simon. After all, adults are always like that- Thinking that their rules and regulations are for the best. Wade will probably get some kind of smug satisfaction that he is Helping, and that will serve Simon well if he wants a more comfortable place to stay.]
You were pretty nice to me that day when I arrived, so...
I thought I'd ask you for a favor. I hope that's okay.
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How did you hurt yourself?
[There's barely any emotion in that voice. It doesn't even sound like a question.]
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[His temper flares as easily as that of a feral stray cat, although pity is what he's going for, isn't it? That's the angle. He has no choice.
Simon grits his teeth, taking a second to compose himself as he plots his next move.]
I broke somethin'. Somethin' of yours, maybe. Or, gosh, y'know what? It must belong to whoever it is who owns that dump.
[Bitter, bitter, bitter. He means Red Wings.
He is unused to concerned adults. Since the formation of the Apex, Simon and Grace have not had the fortune of running into many. He hates learning that he apparently looks as pathetic as he feels on the inside most of the time.]
A glass.
[Oh, shoot. Wade already seems to think of him as some kind of pathetic, scrawny weakling. He has to clarify-]
It was an accident.
[It had stung, yes, but he didn't care too much.]
I'm not gonna do anything stupid. I wanna live.
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[He looks over Simon's bandaged hand with a more scrutinizing gaze before sighing.]
C'mon, then. If we're gonna have a conversation like this I'd prefer it was back at my place. I can help you dress that proper while we're at it. You comin'?
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[Right, there is no one.
His shoulders droop once more. Here, he is a nobody. Not a rival to be reckoned with or even a threat to be put down.
He is nothing, once again, null and void.]
Look, what was I supposed to do? It's not like I had more than one hand to patch it up, I-
[Simon might be mumbling and grumbling, but he follows, having to walk a little faster to catch up with Wade's steps. The mercenary's got quite the wingspan on him. Err, legspan? Anyway.]
I had to do it myself.
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Hey, you don't gotta explain yourself to me. You know how many times I've patched myself up over the years? I'm just sayin', you gotta wrap it up the right way if you expect it to not go all shit-shaped later on.
Approach it like you'd approach sex, y'know? Gotta wrap that shit up properly.
[He finally lets out a chuckle, crass and juvenile.]
1/?
2/?
[He spits and stammers, turning a bright shade of red at the thought of something so vulgar. Not thinking straight, he continues blubbering-]
How am I supposed to know how I'd approach that? I haven't done anything like that just yet-
3/3
AHHHHHHHHHH!
[If there are birds in this world... They'd be flying off the rooftops because of the noise.]
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...You doin' all right there, champ? You wanna keep headin' to my place or d'you wanna keep wallowing in your existential crisis or whatever the heck's going on?
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[...That's not true.
It's just different.]
It's fine, I'm going.
[Simon goes as far as to hold himself with both arms now, snarling through gritted teeth.]
This better be the last time I get moved around!
[He wants more than anything to return to the Train. Grace and the Apex are waiting for him...
But as comfortable at that role may be, and as much as he enjoys having a Leader, a savior, and a best friend? He's never had the chance to wield this much power.
Simon has a feeling that this is his only shot at finally being the general he's always dreamed of. Anything is better than being a panicked, clumsy little kid.]
I am so done being left behind.
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...the hell does all that have to do with bein' a virgin?
[This some kinda weird generational thing he doesn't know about or something?]
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A-ah, n-no! I-
[Simon hates that he has had to explain himself so many times in this place. Still, Wade has actually been a fairly good listener, and for that the teen will provide an explanation.]
I didn't have to think about this kinda stuff before. Or, well, I guess I've thought about it, erg-
[He is turning red. A finger reaches for a stray tuft of blond hair to tuck behind his ear, but oh would you look at that- It touches air.
Right, new arrival thing.]
But it didn't matter. Like, there was just more important stuff to do, like makin' sure that our supply of rations wasn't running low, or fixing the gear that was broken so...
[Simon blinks.]
So that if we ever faced a threat we... Wouldn't be in as much danger.
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And... because you don't gotta think about that stuff anymore, this place doesn't make any sense?
[He supposes it's not as confusing as it seems to be-- he doesn't know what type of environment this kid's used to, but he's been getting several context clues that it wasn't just high school and video games and trying out for the swim team. Something about the words Simon's been using-- "rations" and "gear" and "threat"-- make him think back to his military days.
And you always heard stories of soldiers who came back from war and couldn't handle everyday life, right? Something about the normalcy, of having to turn off that part of your brain that told you to be careful or you would die. Going into a grocery store and only having to think about what ingredients to get for dinner, not the safest place to take cover if the whole place got suddenly bombed. He can't say for certain that's what Simon's going through right now, but there's enough clues to be somewhat suspicious.
He shrugs.]
None of my business, in any case. Let's get goin', yeah? You're probably gettin' hungry. I know I am.
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[Because no matter where he is or who he's with survival is never truly guaranteed.
Simon stops himself when Wade is wise enough to redirect the conversation. The boy is childish, sure, immature even, however, he understands that Wade is doing this to placate him. He holds his bitterness within his chest, despising the fact that he is being treated like a baby, but he needs food and shelter.
His ego will just have to wait.]
Okay.
[Then, after far too long of a silence-]
Thank you.
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[Best to just keep the kid's attention on food, at least for now. He's obviously got a lot on his mind and probably very little in his stomach, and Wade knows from experience that that isn't exactly conducive to a jovial mood. It doesn't take them long to get to Wade and Nate's apartment, and Wade wastes no time unlocking the door, opening it with flourish.]
After you. Sorry about the mess.
[There isn't much of a mess-- living with a roommate kind of curtailed Wade's innate tendency to be a slob-- but the place definitely has a sort of lived-in look.]
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After making his way through the door, Simon is visited by a wash of long forgotten feelings. While his room on the Train has been perfectly outfitted with everything he loves to be surrounded by, this space is markedly different. There's a kitchen and several shoes, a coat rack near the door, and many items strewn about to and fro that give the apartment character.
For a brief moment in time, Simon remembers being much smaller and hearing the door close behind him in a similar way after coming home from school. A woman's voice calls out to him-
No.
No. There was nothing good about that place or that time. He had forgotten all about it.]
You're good.
[Uttered softly.]
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'ey, so I'mma go take a leak and then start some dinner. Make yourself comfortable, okay? Watch some TV or somethin'. Mi casa es su casa.
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Wow, it's been so long. He hasn't seen one of these in ages, literal years. Quietly, he sets his sack of things down on the ground besides him and sits, falling onto the cushions like a sack of potatoes. Simon picks up the remote and turns on the little black box, although the pictures that dance inside it don't really occur to him.
Is this home, now? Is this place supposed to be home?
This city, and these people...
He doesn't know.]