thewebspinner:

[It’s not as if anything that he hadn’t already thought, considered, felt, a thousand times before in the past had been said. The only new thing, a tiny little fact, dropped in the middle, that had turned, rippled the pond, let everything come bubbling back up again. Sebastian’s silence only confirms that it wasn’t a lie designed to unsettle him, but a complete truth, wrapped with all of the other emotional stuff, the subjective things.

He doesn’t react. Doesn’t scream, doesn’t shout. Doesn’t yell or cry, or throw things, doesn’t smile, laugh, frown, or give any gesture that it had even registered as a thing to him. Well practiced at that, really. So several long minutes pass in silence, and Jim doesn’t speak or move at all.

Then, when he does, it’s in the same quiet, inexpressive tone that he used when the other man first came in.]

Leave me alone.

[Sebastian is practiced. More than anything it is simply experience that helps him weather and understand Jim’s moods. So it’s not the yelling or screaming that worries him, not when Jim throws dishes at him. Those are merely effects of boredom and irritation.

It’s the silence that scares him. Nobody has ever embodied the expression ‘still water runs deep’ like Jim and there’s nothing worse than the stoney emptiness on his face.

And he’s the cause for that.

He’d like to remind Jim that the man left him behind, let him think he was dead for weeks, that they were fucked up, that he’d been more fucked up then ever, that of course he’d attach himself to something just to survive, but what good will that do? And he should have seen it coming, really he should have. The last time he’d gone to see that other Moriarty, his Jim had nearly killed himself coming down from his meth high. And as much as he took it out on the- now dead- man that had drugged Jim in the first place, he knew he should have been there.

That, at least, is not a mistake he intends to make this time around.]

Sorry. No.