thewebspinner:

mistersmoran:

thewebspinner:

mistersmoran:

Oh for fuck’s sake. What happened now?

Hahahaha. Cute.

I know, Sebastian.

Yes, you always know everything. Care to be specific?

How about we start with things that you could possibly have a reason to attempt to keep from me.

Have a good, hard think.

[He doesn’t break eye contact. That’s a sure-fire sign of guilt, lying, or omission. It’s been trained out of him in his long years in the army, replaced with stubbornness and defiance. He crosses his arms, upper lids lowered half-way down so he’s staring at Jim through slits.

He’s tempted to say ‘It’s not what you think,’ because he’s sure it’s not. Really, he’d needed closure of sorts. “Fuck ‘em and get over it” sort of thing, like that would unwind the string that had wrapped around his throat the moment he’d found that other Jim, desperate for any reason at all to still be alive. (And he has, actually, finally, even if they never did fuck.) And because he remembers how it felt, two weeks in, and Jim was still dead and it wasn’t getting better, it wasn’t getting easier, it was getting worse. And that Sebastian (the one that was better) is dead now.

But good fucking luck explaining that to Jim, so he doesn’t say anything. He knows what he’s done.]