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Five Years Gone
Date: Spring 2012 Characters: Joe Homberg, Lance Alvers Summary:… 
13th-Nov-2007 07:16 pm
sick strange darkness, half-shadowed
Date: Spring 2012
Characters: Joe Homberg, Lance Alvers
Summary: Post-arson, Joe contemplates his actions.
Warnings: Language.
Status: IP
Private, unless you have good reason to be there.

He felt unclean. He could still smell the smoke, knew that it clung to his clothes, even after he walked around until morning. He'd gone into a bathroom, splashed water in his face, but part of him swore there was still soot somewhere, ash in his hair. But no one gave him a second look when he entered the cafe. One large coffee in his hands, he'd made his way back to the apartment, feet knowing the way even as his mind continued to wander. He didn't remember opening the door, but he remembered locking it, tossing the keys on the table and then sitting down.

The first sip still burned his tongue. He'd gone all that way just smelling the stuff, but the first taste brought a small wave of relief over him. Usually he'd have a cigarette, but he'd had enough of smoke right now. This would do for now.

It didn't stop the lingering thoughts. He'd burned that place to the ground. He'd knocked out the lone clerk inside and let go. Firefighters would have a hell of a time pinpointing a point of origin before giving into the idea that it was a freak. It wasn't just arson, either. That clerk...he was dead for sure. He hadn't bothered to check for anyone else. As soon as he couldn't see anymore he'd bolted, coughing out smoke and into an ally. His feet had carried him in an almost zigzagging pattern the rest of the night.

So he'd killed. It wasn't the first time his power had gotten out of control, but it was the first time he'd acknowledged the fact that someone would get hurt. That he didn't care. That there was even a choice about that man's death. He could've dragged him outside. Instead, he cremated him.

Another hot sip and a slower exhale. How was he supposed to feel? Was that twisting in his stomach guilt for killing? Guilt for going against his superiors? For staying out all night? Was it even guilt? God, he hated emotions, there were too many of them. He ran a hand through his hair, fingers insisting they felt ashes and he shook it out before rubbing at the migraine he'd developed.

"Fuck."
Comments 
14th-Nov-2007 01:58 am (UTC)
He stirred in his sleep, exhaustion pushing him to the point where he hadn't bothered to strip before getting into bed, Doc Martens making his feet feel like lead, belt buckle digging into his hip. Shoulders strained and knotted from carrying the blonde's body. Next time...next time Bennet could fuck himself.

A sound in the kitchen put him on alert, sleep-addled mind reaching for the gun tucked underneath the mattress before remembering. Joe. The other man hadn't been here when he'd come back, not that he'd expected him to be. Joe had a knack for running.

Pushing himself up, he scrubbed a hand through dark hair, death still clinging to him like a second skin. Claire's vacant eyes, the blood coating the agent he'd taken down. Lance shook his head, getting to his feet and heading for the kitchen.

Gun in the back of his jeans, just incase.
14th-Nov-2007 02:04 am (UTC)
Heavy footsteps fell behind him and Joe snapped his head back. For a moment they both stared at each other. The sheer tension and paranoia of the moment was incredible. They were quite a pair, weren't they? Lance looked exactly how Joe felt.

"Hey."

The word left his throat in a croak, that made him wrinkle his nose. Another sip and his throat felt a little more workable.

"I had to...do something." A beat. "Did it." A sip. "How're you?"
14th-Nov-2007 02:12 am (UTC)
He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, moving past the other man with a sigh. "Fucking peachy keen," he muttered, digging through the cupboards until he found a half empty bottle of gin.

Taking a swig from the bottle, he sat down beside Joey at the rickety table, elbows resting on the surface as he offered the drink. "Will go a hell of a lot further to blank your mind than coffee."
14th-Nov-2007 02:22 am (UTC)
"I take that and I'll fall asleep," he replied with a shake of his head. "Haven't slept yet. Maybe in a couple of hours."

He took a long sip of coffee and pinched at he bridge of his nose.

"I have a problem, Lance. I mean, we already know that but I didn't know that it was this bad."

Another sip.

"A normal person would say that they're guilty. That they know that did something wrong. I did something, and it wasn't good. I should feel something, shouldn't I? I should be able to tell what that feeling is, right?"
14th-Nov-2007 02:31 am (UTC)
Bitter laughter almost choked him, the irony that Joe should ask him of all people cutting deep. Another sip, and the bottle left a ring on the table when he set it back down.

"Who says not feeling anything is wrong?" he muttered, carding his fingers through his hair. "It's a hell of a lot fucking easier. And if you haven't noticed, Joe, we aren't normal."
14th-Nov-2007 02:38 am (UTC)
Joe shrugged, taking another sip before setting his cup next to the bottle.

"I just know that I don't feel good. I don't want to feel that way."

He leaned against Lance, letting his lips touch the man's neck as he spoke.

"Make me feel something else."
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