(no subject)

[the_death_card]

Who: Daniel, Dylan, Jack, and Max (briefly)
What: To avoid the others, Jack starts spending the night at Max's. When he doesn't come back for one of Dylan's visits, Daniel goes to bring him home.


the_lovers: *it had taken some doing to get Dylan to let him be the one to bring Jack home after his latest text that he wouldn't be home. a lot of doing, actually, considering Dylan had all but dropped his sketchbook -- he's been drawing almost compulsively, lately -- and made for the door before he'd even finished getting the words out of his mouth. he managed it in eventuality, though, and even though Dylan didn't look particularly thrilled, and so here he is, outside of Max's shop. he stares up at the building for a moment, frowning thoughtfully, and then, with a sigh, moves to let himself in, heading for the front counter while looking around (both for Jack and otherwise) as he goes*

three_ofwands: *there's actually a few people in the shop, today, most of them just there to marvel over his stock. that doesn't mean he and one of his employees aren't keeping busy, though, and, though he noticed Daniel as soon as he came in, it takes him a moment to get back to the front. his tone and outward expression are pleasant enough, but there's something between the extremes of cold and glad to see him warring behind his eyes. have you gotten any better with reading expressions, Daniel?* Good evening, Mr. Atlas.

the_lovers: *not in the span of time since he first met Max, not really, and so he only picks up on the cold as he turns to look at him. he tries his very best not to bristle at it, and while he does fairly well, it's not absolute. no. Max doesn't get to be cold to him. not after everything they've all just been through. not when it wasn't their faults. not when they're all the victims. not when he's keeping Jack away from them instead of trying to convince him to come home* Oh, yeah, hi.

three_ofwands: *he, on the other hand, does catch Daniel's bristling* What can I help you with? *by the way, this conversation is likely going to end up being at least partially a test*

the_lovers: I was hoping Jack was here, actually. This has kind of been his go to place, the last ... however long. *however long it's been since they were attacked, since Merritt let them out, since they took care of Torre. he actually, honestly has no idea how many days it's been. even with the shows to bookend their weeks, everything's still sort of running together*

three_ofwands: *the first time Jack asked if he could crash on his couch was a couple of weeks ago, he thinks, though he could be wrong, too* The last I saw him, he was upstairs.

the_lovers: Okay. *a beat* Can I ... *he makes a vague gesture. chances are, though, that if Max tells him no, he's going to go anyway*

three_ofwands: *and for a moment, it looks like he might actually refuse, but he finally sighs* Through the stock room, through the door on the right, and then up the stairs. *he pauses another beat before adding...* Do me one favor? Don't make anything worse. *he has a hope as to the reason you're here, Daniel, but he also doesn't know. what he does know is part of what happened with Torre - and that Jack looked absolutely miserable the first time he asked if he could crash on his couch*

the_lovers: *resolutely* I'm not planning on it. *he hesitates for a moment following that, the frown on his lips suggesting he's thinking of adding something else -- or at least feels like he should. either way, the look evaporates before too long and he heads for the stock room, wordless but obviously grateful that Max isn't going to make this hard, all the same, even though he didn't specifically say thank you*

three_ofwands: *turns to watch him go, reaching up to rub a hand over his mouth before he turns his attention back to the shop. he'll give them some time before he checks in*

the_lovers: *heads upstairs, following Max's directions, stripping himself of the armor he constantly wears, the act, as thin as it was even downstairs, as he goes. by the time he finally lets himself into Max's apartment upstairs, he looks smaller, somehow. tired. repentant. worried. wounded. a lot of things, really. for once, he's not hiding behind his bravado or the facade of being collected he's adopted, on and off, since Merritt fixed them. and all that said, done, he takes a brief moment to look around once he's closed the door behind him and then moves to find Jack, still silent*

the_death_card: *it won't take long, considering Jack's curled up on one of Max's couches with the television on, his phone in reach on the coffee table where he set it after sending the text. he's also at least mostly asleep if not all the way there, considering he doesn't react to Daniel coming in*

the_lovers: *he frowns at him for a moment before heading over to the couch in search of the remote. when he finds it, he turns off the TV, hoping that much alone doesn't wake Jack and moves to take a seat in one of the other unoccupied chairs. he won't wake him, if he doesn't have to and even if he was supposed to bring him home. he'll just ... sit here and watch over him while he sleeps*

the_death_card: *he does stir when Daniel turns off the tv, though it's not until he sits down that he mutters a sleepy sounding...* What time is it? *if Max is already coming in for the night, he's been asleep longer than he thought - and it's clear that he thinks Daniel is Max*

the_lovers: *he answers all the same, and gently, after checking his watch* Like 10:30.

the_death_card: *that is... not the voice he was expecting to answer him, and he blinks at Daniel, suddenly and obviously awake* I thought you were Max.

the_lovers: Sorry. *for not being Max. for waking him up. one or the other. both, maybe*

the_death_card: *shakes his head as he pushes himself up, rubbing at his eyes, though he's not all that sure which he's replying to...* It's okay. *and once he's dropped his hand* Why are you here? *and then a beat as he actually gets a look at Daniel, as he notices the difference in the other man* Is everything okay?

the_lovers: *he holds up a hand, immediately, placatingly* Everything's good. *he pauses, and while it seems like this is just another one of the split seconds of silence he puts between his quips for effect, this one is longer, less for effect and more for him to try and decide what to say* At home, anyway. As good as they have been lately.

the_death_card: *and he immediately relaxes and huffs out a relieved breath - if something had happened while he wasn't there, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself. and then he lets out another wry breath, just nodding* Yeah. It'll get better. *and maybe it's because he's still not quite awake, but that sounds oddly detached*

the_lovers: *he flashes Jack a brief, thin smile and then looks away. another moment of silence follows* You should be there. I mean, it's not going to get better if we're not all in this together. Not that I'm blaming this on you. I get that I was kind of a dick -- *a beat* -- no, wait, more than kind of, I was a huge dick, actually ... *but*

the_death_card: *he's just. not going to get into that first part. he's been there. he gets tired of feeling like they're strangers again - and watching the others patch things up and not knowing how to do it himself without feeling like it's going to come across as whining* We were all kind of dicks. *to put it mildly*

the_lovers: Maybe, yeah. *he doesn't sound like he believes that, though. he's pretty sure he wins the asshole award* But okay, let me kind of ... *put this a better way, maybe. if he can figure out how to put it* ... we need you to come home, Jack. And I get why you probably don't want to be around any of us right now, trust me, but ... *how is it supposed to get better, if he's avoiding them? and, more importantly ... * If something happens again, if you're here or ... whatever, how are we supposed to protect you? *for all the good it did them as far as Torre was concerned* How am I ... *a beat, and then, his voice low, strained* ... fuck.

the_death_card: *watches him, and he is getting progressively less closed off as Daniel talks - and he finally looks away, reaching up to run a hand over his head, and, admitting, and it sounds like it's taking a lot for him to say this, even saying it without looking at Daniel* I need you guys a lot more than you need me. That's how it's been the whole time.

the_lovers: *he reaches up to thumb at his eyes and then looks at him, shaking his head probably more times than is necessary* No. *he'd say more, but he really doesn't trust his voice right now, and without his usual bullshit, that's written all over his face*

the_death_card: *and he doesn't trust his voice either, but he just pops one shoulder in a shrug. it's easy for him to deny it, but... even if he takes away what Daniel said while Torre was messing with them, it doesn't change that Merritt, Henley, and Daniel had done this. they had the most experience going in, when he was just working the street and trying to get to where they were*

the_lovers: *this has nothing to do with experience, with work. this has to do with them. with family* You really think I'd be here if we didn't need you? Or that I would have kind of almost literally fought Jacob over who was coming to get you? You think Henley would have dragged you off to get coffee, before ... *before Torre* ... if she didn't want to ... *try and put his mind at ease* Or that she'd touch you, now? Or ... *he shrugs, though the gesture is mostly confined to his eyebrows*

the_death_card: I don't... *and he's not sure where that was going, so he tries again* I just.... *or with that. ugh. he wants, more than anything, to just let Daniel be right and go back, but. he's terrified all over again, if he's being honest* You were just... you were right, you know? About no one wanting me before.

the_lovers: *lowly, half-hoping Jack won't hear him* I know the feeling. *a beat and then louder* I was just pushing your buttons. *and even if that is true, even if he was right ... * But we want you.

the_death_card: *he does hear that, but he doesn't really know what to do with it, right now. and almost over that first part...* I know. *and he does, that's not why he's hiding here - and yes, he freely admits he's hiding. and he just shakes his head a little, to that second. he just. doesn't know what to say. he's pretty much out of arguments, but there's that last resistance. hooray being stubborn as hell*

the_lovers: Just -- *he's out of arguments, himself, now, and he looks all at once frustrated as hell and defeated as a result. both make his eyes sting again, if they ever really stopped in the first place, and he looks up, briefly, as if that will help before thumbing at his eyes. a shaky sigh follows and then* Please. Come home. If not for us, then for Jacob. As much as he's pulling the whole -- *he makes a vague gesture. the whole Everything is fine and nothing is broken act* -- I'm kinda pretty sure he's -- *falling apart. losing it. something* -- and as much as I rode your ass about it, while we were all trying to kill each other -- *a beat* -- which, by the way, I'm sorry -- *and he means that more than he's ever meant anything, that much is clear, despite how casually he slipped that in there. he'll say it again, if Jack needs to hear it, he just needed to say it now, too* -- you are pretty much his favorite.

the_death_card: *and somewhere in there, whether it's at Daniel outright asking, or the mention of Dylan, or the apology, Jack all but deflates, reaching up to rub at his eyes, too, as he mutters...* I wasn't trying to avoid him. *and yes, that's him admitting he's been an idiot. after a moment, he looks back up at Daniel, and his eyes are stinging, too* I'm sorry, too. *for what he said, and for hiding from them, and so on*

the_lovers: *he can't say that Jack was right about him being an egotistical, holier-than-thou dick (and not because he's being a egotistical, holier-than-thou dick), because deep down, he really doesn't think that much of himself. it's why he acts like he's better than everyone. it's why he practices so much. it's why he pushed Henley away, the first time they were together. it's why he does a lot of what he does, actually. he can't say that Jack was wrong, either, though, because he does act like that most of the time, and so, in sort of a compromise, he shakes his head* It's fine. We're fine. *a beat* Well, on my end, anyway. *he raises his chin a little, looking at Jack almost hopefully*

the_death_card: *lets out a breath of something akin to a laugh at that expression - though it's mostly just a release of tension. and he actually manages to look at Daniel, even if his eyes have passed burning and are likely actually damp, now* Yeah. We're good.

the_lovers: *he offers him a brief, wry smile before letting out a relieved breath of his own* Okay. Just -- okay.

the_death_card: *returns the smile - and then pauses a beat before adding* And thanks. *for coming. because yeah.*

the_lovers: *he shrugs. and then, after a pause of his own ... * You're family.

the_death_card: *and by contrast, more or less immediately* So're you.

the_lovers: *he allows him another smile, this one less brittle and clearly meant to last longer, despite the fact that it doesn't, if only for the fact that what he did to Jack washes over him again, unexpectedly, sobering him. and that in mind and despite the fact that they both said they were good, he offers* I'm sorry.

the_death_card: *shakes his head a little, this time to dismiss that* It's okay. It was that asshole. *and then, more seriously, too, and again...* We're good.

the_lovers: *he nods a little* Okay.

the_death_card: *okay, seriously. and he's aware how much this is going to sound like Merritt but he really is okay, now* Do you want a hug? *and then grins a little*

the_lovers: *snorts, a little of the armor coming back up, albeit not because he feels like he has anything to protect himself from but more because, yeah, that helps* Yeah, no, I'm not really into ...

the_death_card: *smirks a little* Thought I'd offer.

the_lovers: *he can't help but smirk back* Nice try.

the_death_card: *and that just gets a full out grin that's also not at all short on relief*

the_lovers: *he sighs, echoing his relief, and leans back in his seat. a moment of silence follows, in which he sobers again, and then* ... so, you ready to come back, or ... *he'd be willing to give him one last night here, if he felt he still needed it. it wouldn't thrill him, but*

the_death_card: *doesn't even need to think about it, though. he just nods, wiping his palms on his jeans as he slides forward a little, like he's getting ready to get up* Yeah. Lemme just tell Max bye.

the_lovers: *nodding, he moves to get up, himself* Yeah, sure. Take your time or whatever.

the_death_card: *nods and does push himself up, now, to head out of the apartment and back down to the store*

three_ofwands: *and he's the only one there, now, messing around in the stock room - he was still trying to give them a few minutes. he looks up when Jack nudges the door open* Hey. *and there's already an obvious question there*

the_death_card: *smiles a little, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder, indicating both outside and Daniel* I'm gonna head back to the suite.

three_ofwands: *it's immediately clear he's glad to hear it, even if he tries to keep that off his face, just nodding, instead* You know my couch is always available.

the_death_card: *nods* I know. Thanks, Max.

three_ofwands: Anytime.

the_death_card: *offers him another smile and then turns back, to head back to the apartment, assuming Daniel didn't follow him*

the_lovers: *he didn't, no -- he wanted to give Jack and Max however long they needed alone. that in mind, he's sort of hovering by the door when Jack comes back, and when he does, he raises his chin slightly, questioningly* You good?

the_death_card: *nods* Yeah. Let's get out of here. *and pauses a beat before he raises a hand, questioning, too* Want me to...?

the_lovers: That pretty much depends on whether or not you feel like dealing with a cab. *he wouldn't say no to Jack getting them home, but he's not going to force him to, either*

the_death_card: Yeah, this is easier. *also cheaper, and even if money's not the issue for him it used to be, there's no point in wasting money on a cab. he steps into the apartment to close the door behind him, reaching out to it, and it's just a moment later that he opens the door again to their elevator*

the_lovers: Thanks. *a moment of hesitation follows, and then, very deliberately, he brushes past Jack, their shoulders touching for an instant as he steps into the elevator. ... what? it works for Henley and it's probably as close to an actual hug as he'll probably manage for awhile, if ever*

the_death_card: *and it's appreciated anyway, and he offers Daniel another smile as he follows him into the elevator and hits their floor's button before leaning against the wall*

the_lovers: *offers him a tiny, almost shy smile in return, the act not entirely back in place just yet, even if he's a fair bit closer to it than he was when Jack went downstairs to say goodbye to Max, and moves to lean against the wall, too*

the_death_card: *and his smile warms a little. they really are okay, as far as he's concerned - he was blaming himself for far more things than he was holding anything against Daniel - but still, it's a huge relief. after a moment, he chuckles* So am I about to get yelled at for running off?

the_lovers: Uh ... *he actually has to think about that* I think Henley and Merritt are just worried, and not ... *a gesture. you know, in a yelling mood. that doesn't mean he won't get a Talking To from them, but it probably won't be anything involving raised voices* Jacob might, though. *a beat* Or he might not. It's kind of hard to tell. *what with the whole pretending to be fine thing*

the_death_card: *and he just nods. that's. pretty much what he was expecting, really - both what Daniel said and what he didn't say*

the_lovers: Sorry. *except he's not -- or, well, not entirely. they were worried about him*

the_death_card: No, it's... *takes another breath* I'm sorry, too. *for worrying them*

the_lovers: It's -- I kind of wish you'd ... *let them take care of him* ... but I get it. Trust me. *he had a moment or two before everyone started forgiving each other where he almost threw all of his shit in a bag and just bailed. and not because of them. because of himself. because he couldn't take what he'd done*

the_death_card: *reaches up to run a hand over his hair, roughly* It's hard to break a habit I've had for eleven years. *during which he had to take care of himself. and yeah, they've been together a year and some, now, but. again. habits are hard to break* And I do. *trust him. and yeah, he means in more than just the fact that Daniel gets it*

the_lovers: I know. *he offers Jack a brief, sympathetic look, which -- well, it turns into a look of mild surprise at the idea that Jack trusts him. maybe a month or two ago, that wouldn't have surprised him, but after everything, and even if they're good, it's still kind of surprising* ... thanks. *he pauses, this one one of the longer, genuine ones, rather than one of the for effect ones, and then* I trust you, too.

the_death_card: *looks up at him without raising his head, smiling* Thanks.

the_lovers: *he offers him a smile in return* Yeah.

the_death_card: *returns the smile for a moment before he looks up at the numbers over the elevator as it slows and the doors open, and he gestures for Daniel to go ahead*

the_lovers: *pushes away from the wall and breathes out a sigh, coming back to life, back to the act with the sound, and then moves out of the elevator. grabs the door, when he reaches it and holds it open for Jack*

the_death_card: *follows him out of the elevator, muttering a "thanks" as he moves past him into the suite*

onebehind: *he's sitting in his usual seat when Daniel and Jack come in, though he's kind of slowly but surely laying claim to more space, art supplies circled around him on the couch, the coffee table, and so on like a protective circle. his sketchbook in his lap, open, though there's a piece of thin cardboard between the page he's working on and the next, likely to protect it from getting wet as, rather than standard inking with a pen, he has a little jar of ink open on the end table next to him and a paintbrush in hand. he's doing an ink wash, it seems. he stops when they come in, though, looking up, something unreadable flickering over his face, there and then gone, and when it passes, he moves immediately to start cleaning up his stuff a little so he's not taking up the whole of the living room* Hey.

the_lovers: Hey.

the_death_card: *vaguely sheepishly...* Hey.

onebehind: *he glances between Daniel and Jack* Everything alright? *not that he thinks Jack would be here, if it wasn't, but ... *

the_death_card: *nods, smiling slightly again* Yeah, we're good.

onebehind: *he offers Jack a brief, tight smile in response and finishes relocating most of his stuff, sans the sketchbook, his brush and the bottle of ink, to a pile in the center of the coffee table* Come sit down.

the_lovers: *glances at Jack, shrugs, and then moves to take his usual seat*

the_death_card: *follows Daniel, flopping into his usual spot, as well*

onebehind: *watches them both for a moment and then leans to gather more ink on his brush, to go back to his art. and a moment after that ... * I'm not gonna yell or whatever, if that's what you're waiting for.

the_death_card: *and the breath he lets out this time is sheepish for a different reason* I thought it might be a possibility.

onebehind: *he shakes his head without looking up* I get it. *mostly. he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little hurt -- he's hiding it well, but it's still there -- but he knows that's hypocritical of him, since he ran off, too, after Merritt saved his ass*

the_death_card: *nods a little. and, even if Dylan's not about to yell...* Sorry I was an idiot.

onebehind: *he sighs, dropping his brush into the glass of water he's been using to dilute the ink to get different values, and focuses on him entirely* I think we've all kind of been idiots. But it's not ... *he pauses, wetting his lips with his tongue as he tries to find his words, then shakes his head slightly* I think it's kind of ... *oh, fuck it. he can't quite find the right words for what he wants to say, and he's too tired and frayed to bother to keep trying* It's okay, Jack.

the_death_card: *nods to that, because it's definitely true, and then just offers him a smile* Okay.

onebehind: *offers him a small smile in return* Okay.

the_death_card: *digs his cell phone out of his pocket to set it on the edge of the coffee table before he settles back, and then, curiously...* What're you working on?

onebehind: *he manages to bite back a cringe, for the most part, but a shadow of it flickers over his face despite his best efforts. he looks down at the sketchbook, briefly, hiding the embarrassment that follows, too, and then holds it out to Jack* Merritt was -- when he touched me, to get in my head ... *a lot went on in there that Jack obviously doesn't remember, despite the fact that he was half-there, and he's been trying to get it out of his head. to the point where there's a lot more full pages now then there was a month ago, a week ago, and on the page he's working on is a sketch, half-shaded in still drying ink, of him chained to the stage in his mental theatre, from what he imagines was Merritt's perspective when he first found him*

the_lovers: *he glances between Dylan and Jack, then leans to get a look at the picture, too*

the_death_card: *yeah, no. he had vague impressions of being somewhere else, but they were just vague. he probably doesn't even know about everything involving the shadows. Merritt hasn't mentioned it, anyway. he leans forward, too, to look at it, though he doesn't reach out to touch it, wary of messing up the obviously wet ink* That's... *to say it's awesome or cool or anything like that seems inappropriate considering the inspiration. it's likely clear he thinks it is, though, even as he settles on...* really good.

onebehind: *he breathes out a sigh, almost relieved. he was a little afraid Jack was going to tell him it was disturbing or ask him what the hell was wrong with him or suggest he see an actual shrink or something* Thanks.

the_death_card: *since he's not Merritt, he'll keep the "pft" to the emotes, but. pft all the same. and, as he sits back again* Welcome.

onebehind: *heh. honestly, he's not entirely sure he doesn't need professional fucking help at the moment, but. but anyway, he takes the sketchbook back, resettling it in his lap, and watches him for a long moment, frowning* He was actually ... it was more than just ... *Merritt was actually somewhere else. not physically, obviously, but it may as well have been. it was more than just reading surface thoughts. he doesn't really know how to articulate that the way he wants to, however, and so he gives up on it, making a face*

the_death_card: *if they're going that route, they all likely need professional help based on the things that have happened to them. but he just nods* I could tell. It was actually kind of scary. You both just weren't there anymore. *not to mention he had to actually physically catch Merritt before he fell - and before he lost contact with Dylan, considering something told him that was a terrible idea*

onebehind: *point. but at any rate, he looks genuinely, deeply apologetic, if only for an instant before he resumes being a brick wall* Sorry. *a beat* I think I could feel him and I just ... *Merritt reached out, he reached back*

the_death_card: *immediately* It's okay. Everything got fixed. *smiles a little*

onebehind: Yeah. *and that earns him a brief smile and another moment of pause. then, gently* At the risk of sounding a little Wizard of Oz ... you were there, too.

the_death_card: *frowns, confused, at that - he has no idea what was going on for them - or at least not consciously* What do you mean?

onebehind: *he rakes his tongue over his teeth, trying to decide how to phrase it, and then decides it's better to show him. that in mind, he turns back to his sketchbook, thumbing a couple of pages back, careful not to let them touch the still drying ink on the piece he was working on, and holds it out to him again, a little awkwardly, if only for how he has to hold it. and there, done in charcoal, is Jack's shadow as Merritt and he first saw him in his head*

the_death_card: *leans forward again to look at it, though he doesn't try to take it, this time, for risk of messing up the newer piece. and then sits back, shaking his head. he's still not sure he gets it, honestly, and that's probably obvious to Dylan, but all he knows to say is...* Actual mind-reading is weird.

onebehind: *he snorts, resettling his sketchbook* You were touching Merritt. Merritt was touching me. *as if that explains everything*

the_death_card: *it explains it a little more, at least* So I was kinda in your head, too. *a beat* I don't remember any of *nods toward the sketchbook, to indicate it* that.

onebehind: I figured. *if only because he figures Jack would have asked him about some or all of it if he did*

the_death_card: *and just shrugs a little, for lack of anything to say in response to that*

onebehind: *he shrugs, too, and then sinks into his chair with a sigh*

the_death_card: *echoes the sigh, sliding down a little on the couch to sprawl a bit* Max tried to talk me into coming back. *before either of them blame him for Jack hiding there*

the_lovers: *too late. that surprises him, though. not that he thinks Max is a dick, he's just ... well, the way he responded to him being there in the first place wasn't exactly warmly, so* Seriously?

the_death_card: *nods, still without looking at either of them* A couple of times. When I first went over there *the first time he stayed, he means* and then a couple days ago. I didn't tell him everything that happened, but just. That I needed to be somewhere else for a while. *but considering Max has the mentalism thing going, too, he probably picked up on more than Jack actually realizes - including that there'd been at least one actual, physical fight, considering he had a couple of pretty visible bruises that are just now fading*

the_lovers: Okay. I kind of wasn't expecting that. *a beat* No offense to him, he just didn't seem very happy to see me, when I showed up.

onebehind: *after a moment of hesitation* He was fine when I went to go see him. *because yeah. he hasn't mentioned that until now*

the_death_card: *shrugs* He's kind of... *protective*. And... there was the show and then I showed up wanting his couch and... *so on. Dylan's statement finally makes him raise his head, though* You went to talk to Max?

onebehind: *another pause* Yeah. A couple of days after -- after all the bullshit.

the_death_card: He didn't say anything. *about Dylan stopping by*

onebehind: *and that gets Jack a brief, wry smile. he's glad Max didn't tell Jack he needed an adult* I wasn't there for too long. *and smoothly* I figured he deserved a heads up before he showed up here, guns blazing.

the_death_card: *chuckles a little, almost embarrassed* Yeah, probably.

onebehind: I didn't tell him all of it. Just ... enough. *so Jack doesn't have to worry about that, at least*

the_death_card: *nods. he did pretty much the same thing, so...*

onebehind: *he nods, too, lapsing into silence for a second afterwards, and then genuinely* I'm glad you're home.

the_lovers: *without hesitation* Me, too.

the_death_card: *ducks his head, this time, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly as he looks up at them through his lashes, again* Thanks.

onebehind: *hums in lieu of saying you're welcome*

the_lovers: *looks away, too, a small smile on his lips* Yeah.

the_death_card: *returns the smile, and once he's dropped his hand* As great as the store is.... *he's glad he's back, too. he's sorry again - or still - for being an idiot instead of telling them the problem. he's glad they're all here. pick one*

onebehind: *he shakes his head a little, at the implied apology -- it's okay, Jack, really -- and then after a moment, speaking of, and as if anyone will actually have a problem with this* I'm staying the night again, by the way. I've kind of got Mira holding down the fort back in Vegas, so ...

onebehind: *not that he's sure how much sleeping he'll do, since he hasn't really been doing too well with that for awhile, but*

the_death_card: *he definitely doesn't. nods, smiling again* Cool.

onebehind: *he returns the smile* I might not be around tomorrow night, though. *he's going to swing by Paris and see Alma. and yeah, okay, he probably doesn't need to outline his schedule for them all, but ... he doesn't want them to think he's avoiding them and ruin his whole I'm fine act or for them to start worrying, otherwise, if he disappears for a bit*

the_death_card: *just nods* Okay. *yeah, that's probably for the best, really. they're all probably going to be a little paranoid for a while about that sort of thing. and that's coming from the guy who was doing the avoiding*

onebehind: *he knows he is, so ... yeah. anyway, at a loss for what to say now that he's put that out there, he just nods, too*

the_death_card: *sighs again, tiredly this time, and settles back again. woke up a little considering the discussions and moving around and everything - but he's relaxing and comfortable, now. but he also really doesn't want to be the first to break this up, for a couple of reasons*

onebehind: *looks between him and Daniel, and then* If you wanna go to bed, I'm not gonna stop you. *a beat and then to Daniel, specifically* Henley went up to bed right after you left. *and she went to his room*

the_lovers: *and now he looks between the two of them, not sure if he should be the one to break things up or not*

the_death_card: I probably should *or he's going to fall asleep on the couch - not that that's all that unusual* but... *do not want*

onebehind: *makes a little face at him* Go to bed, Jack. *not that he's eager to get rid of him or Daniel, but ... dad face*

the_death_card: *makes a face back, grumbling, though without heat, and as he starts to push himself up...* Yes, Dad.

onebehind: *can't help but smile just the tiniest bit, regardless of whether or not that was meant ironically, and then glances to Daniel* You, too.

the_lovers: *hums, dimly amused, and starts to get up, too* Yes, Dad.

the_death_card: *some of both, really. stops to pick up his phone, once he's standing, and then heads for the stairs* Night, guys.

the_lovers: *moves to follow him towards the stairs* Night.

onebehind: Night. *and that said, he's going to reach for his paint brush again. he'll get to bed ... eventually*