suitably_heroic | Around Atton's New York, All Day Tuesday

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Around Atton's New York, All Day Tuesday

So, Cade was still here. And... damned lucky that Dane had the patience of a saint (or at least a guy with crappy coping methods and a history of poor boundary-setting), or he probably would've been out on his ass by now. Hell, Jack had thought about throwing him out on his ass a few times now. The crossing the streams was just kind of weird.

And Cade could be kind of a jackass.

(But he'd also missed the guy and having him here was a good reminder of their misspent youth and space he really was getting old, wasn't he?)

Anyway.

It was show day. And Jack-slash-Atton hadn't slept a wink last night, so he'd just be on the floor of the living room, where he'd been for the last couple of hours. Ugh.

[[ for that guy and some ocd ]]

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Stupid nightmares. They weren't as plentiful as they had been back when Jack had first moved here, but sometimes they still caught him by surprise in the middle of the night. Death and bombs and Meetra vanishing into the night-- all the hits.

So it was morning, and he was curled up on the floor with his back against the only wall that wasn't covered in shelves full of records, a cup of coffee in one hand and his head bent over his knees.

Ugggh.

"It is too damn early to deal with whatever this is," said the pile of clothes on the sofa.

No, Cade had no idea what time it was. No, he didn't care.

"If you didn't want to deal with it, you should've stopped drinking in time to make it to the guest room last night," Jack muttered into his knees.

"In our entire time knowing each other, tell me three times I've made a good decision like that," Cade said, cracking open one eye.

Atton lifted his head up. Squinted.

"... I can't even think of one."

"Me either," Cade admitted. "I was giving myself some room for being a better person than I am."

"Yeah, that'll get you every time," Atton muttered, lifting his cup to take a big sip of his coffee. "Well, you crash on the couch, you get me wandering around at night. Deal with it."

"It's still night?" Cade whined. "Whyyyy."

"It's early morning," Atton told him. "I came in here a couple hours ago. You slept through most of it. Stop whining."

"I will never stop whining. It's genetic," Cade told him.

"There's like how many generations between you and Anakin now?" Atton asked.

"Have you met Luke?" Cade grumbled.

"Maybe?" Atton said, frowning at the Cade-lump on the couch. "There's too many of you."

"Blond, short, and whiny," Cade said. "Normally in black."

"Oh, the Mical clone," Atton said. "I think I distantly remember him?"

"He's annoying," Cade said, closing his eyes. "Shows up in my dreams."

Atton frowned, sitting back against the wall. "Yeah?" he said. "Why?"

"What would a Force ghost bitch about?" Cade asked. "Living up to the family name, restarting the Jedi, fighting the Sith. Pass."

"How long has he been doing that?"

Yeah, Atton knew Cade was blowing it off. He sounded kind of concerned anyway.

Edited 2025-03-13 19:24 (UTC)

"Years," Cade huffed. "Thus the death sticks. They shut him up."

"Space," Atton muttered, rubbing at his face with one hand.

"Don't judge my coping mechanisms," Cade said, flinging his arm over his eyes.

"I'm not," Atton said. He was still eyeing Cade, or as much of him as he could see. "I'm judging him. He's kept going? All this time? Here I thought Anakin was bad, but at least that schutta is honest about the way he lashes out."

"Well, he's off in Force ghost wherever," Cade said. "Guess he doesn't have anything else to do."

Atton snorted. He sipped his coffee. "There was a time I would've killed to be haunted by a Force ghost," he said. "Uh. A specific one, not just any one. Now I think the dead should probably just leave us alone."

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