[ What he's really saying is that he doesn't like to ignore being ignored, but John doesn't feel much like arguing. Tipping his head toward the darkness, he silently signals for Crowley to come along with him. He doesn't have a direction now, not anymore, and maybe that's for the best. ]
Fine, but... haven't really had time to think. Not much, anyway.
[ Between drinking and sleeping and decidedly not thinking, he's off-kilter and uncertain, not the least bit ready to claim rational thought or behavior, even if Crowley's only wanting to talk.
He shoves his hands into his pockets, eyes turning down to the ground. ]
[ He'd thought about it. Hell, he'd thought about it a lot, but any realistic situation had ended with Blake being angry or disgusted and Crowley hadn't wanted that.
There's no denying that he's selfish. Being around him isn't really good for anyone, but he still tries his best to pull Blake in over and over again because he wants Blake to be okay, but he also wants Blake just a little bit more than he wants what's best for him, even with all that human empathy and guilt. ]
[ As Blake considers the question, he finds the answer's not as clear as it ought to be, even if it's a resounding yes, as far as he's concerned. But there's more to this than just black and white facts, and that's where his trepidation comes into play. ]
Yes. [ And then a pause. ] Why didn't you? [ That seems the more important question. ]
[ He thinks that should be obvious. All of it should be obvious. He probably hid it for a lot of the same reasons that addicts hide their habits, even if he maintains that this is different--probably closer to marijuana than anything else that might use a needle and his cravings are hardly of a physical nature. ]
And because I've always found it necessary to hide my weaknesses.
[ It's the wrong answer twice over. Or at the very least the most misguided responses Crowley can come up with in Blake's eyes. Mostly bullshit, if he's being entirely honest with himself. ]
This started back home? When you were away.
[ It's mostly a hypothetical question and a conclusion wrapped in one because he's fairly certain that was the message Crowley meant to convey when this had first come up. ]
But I don't get it. 'Cause I've never been anything but a human, right? Just can't understand. [ There's a little bitterness there and Blake's not even bothering to hide it. ] 'Specially if I never find out.
[ Crowley flinches at that. He knows that he's given a lot of wrong answers. Where he's normally so sure of his words, Blake often makes him trip over them and blurt out things that no one should hear.
He takes a gamble and reaches for Blake's arm to press a gentle palm to his bicep. ]
Imagine... that you want something so much that you trade away your humanity for it. You're given ten years to enjoy it and then, whether you're ready or not, it's torn from you forcibly until you can't remember what it feels like to feel anything but hate and anger and greed.
[ He swallows. ]
And then you're given a taste of the better end of that spectrum and you know how you can get it back. Do you walk away from that?
[ Blake comes to a stop and allows the contact, but he's not unfurling from his protective space with his hands still pressed firmly down into his pockets. He feels like shit — that binge drinking didn't do him any favors — and he's concerned in ways he can't quite explain, in ways that actually hurt, so Crowley's words don't quite hold the same value.
He shakes his head a little, glaring ever so slightly. ]
You're tellin' me what? Let's make it clear, right here, right now. This is your reform? Your addiction's also your rehabilitation?
[ Sighing, he moves closer, squeezing Blake's arm. It's always been a strange mix here in Wonderland. He thinks maybe it had started out as some sort of self-actualized punishment. Feeling human had meant feeling guilt and loneliness beyond compare. ]
It started back in my world, but I think here it... escalated. How many times has this place rendered me human? I couldn't know how much I had lost until I felt it again.
[ Blake finally pulls away and this time he's crossing his arms instead of putting them in his pocket. He can't imagine that any of this makes sense to Crowley in the way it makes sense (or doesn't make sense) to him.
He gestures at the other man and then folds right back in on himself. ]
So, what are you, Crowley? Demon? Human? What will you be, or don't you know?
I don't think this will make me human. It just makes me a little closer to it. To make me human there are... rituals that would have to be performed.
[ He crosses his arms and it's an almost vulnerable stance for Crowley. ]
Dean did almost all of it to me when I first arrived here. We were from different times and I didn't know that where he was from, Sam had already done it to me back there. I know now. Both of them stopped at the last possible moment.
[ He's not trying to blame them, per se, but they are a part of this. They brought him to the ledge, even if he chose to jump off all on his own. ]
[ Blake's glare intensifies and he can't help himself when this whole thing has him throwing out his arms in frustration. ]
Since when? [ Unbelievable. ] Crowley, I don't care what you are. If I did, you think we woulda—?
[ After all of this, John feels entirely misunderstood and that doesn't just count for Crowley. Does this really matter, or is he hurt for other reasons? Either way, hurt is hurt is hurt. ]
I- [ Blake huffs. ] I care who you are. Don't you? Or is it whatever's the flavor of the day for you?
[ Turning away, John growls to himself. ] Know it's not, but... fuck. What—? Why? You can't just—! [ AUGH! ]
[ He's not the King of Hell anymore. He knows that. Maybe he'll get the title back back home and he'll take care of Abaddon, but here it's all a front. Here, it's to keep his enemies at bay and to keep himself balanced. It's not real.
He's not even the Crossroads demon. When was his last deal? Emma? ]
I know I'm happier when you're around. That's what I know.
No. That's not all you know. Don't loophole yourself right outta reality here, 'cause you knew what this was doin' to you, didn't you? What it was makin' you feel?
[ John shoves his finger at Crowley and jabs at his chest, adjacent to furious and entirely uncertain as to why. ]
How d'you know—? How d'you know what's—? [ Real. He wants to know if any of it was real, is real, what Crowley wanted, or just a side effect. What if everything they've built is a product of something that, by all accounts, wouldn't normally exist?
Blake worries he may never understand the thought process in the demon's choices that have gotten them here. ]
I knew. I liked it. Maybe it wasn't about being a good person the way you would see it, but it was about being a whole person and not just some dead husk of what was left after a man went to Hell over something so stupid...
[ He takes the jabbing, because he deserves it to some extent. He deserves more, really, but maybe that just comes from the fact that he's overindulged these past few days and he doesn't like knowing that he's hurt Blake, even if he doesn't regret his actions. ]
If you would deny me that, then you're not the John Blake I thought I knew.
[ Blake doesn't want Crowley to be a monster. He doesn't want Crowley to suffer with the burdensome life of a creature longing to make a change. And he does know a lot about the man he's been hanging around with for much longer than a year now, but... ]
Is it makin' you feel things you wouldn't normally feel?
[ This is the question he poses, and he does so with probably the serious intent he's had in a very long time. He doesn't want half-truths, either. Crowley should know that by now. He's a demon and that's his reality since making that deal. How much does nature allow him to stray from that model? Or is it all the blood keeping him on this side of selfish and uncaring? ]
[ Honestly. He does want to give that to Blake in a way that he doesn't normally give so freely, because there is a difference between the truth and the truth and Crowley has volunteered more information to Blake than anyone else for a while now. ]
It's more about giving me the capacity to feel than making me feel anything specific. I still feel like myself. These feelings are still me.
[ John purses his lips. It all sounds like addiction talk to him. How many other people claimed the same? And he knows it's ridiculous because he's done his own fair share of drugs, but Christ, he never let the better part of a relationship build atop it and expect it won't come crumbling down. ]
You're right, you know. You said I wouldn't understand and I don't. Not even when you say it like that.
[ Strangely enough, Blake's not far off from fear in this scenario either. He doesn't like being put into a new place, up against new odds, asked to just accept change as it's become the new status quo.
He's so tempted to give in. Every part of him demands a different move, but his feet are firmly planted and he's good at reminding himself he needs to keep them there; there's no good use for a guy with his head up in the clouds.
John clears his throat. ]
Need some time to think. Need— need a coupla days. Sorry if that's not what you wanna hear, but—
[ He works his jaw and looks back toward the mansion just to have another point of focus. ]
[ It's all he offers, but it's some sign of good faith and what they once had. Not a yes, not a no, just his clear commitment to the part of Crowley's he's proven again and again. Hopefully the reverse is as obvious, because Blake relies on the demon to come to that conclusion.
And then with a wave, he turns on his heel and off he goes, very much the hanged man for the time being. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Fine, but... haven't really had time to think. Not much, anyway.
[ Between drinking and sleeping and decidedly not thinking, he's off-kilter and uncertain, not the least bit ready to claim rational thought or behavior, even if Crowley's only wanting to talk.
He shoves his hands into his pockets, eyes turning down to the ground. ]
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[ He'd thought about it. Hell, he'd thought about it a lot, but any realistic situation had ended with Blake being angry or disgusted and Crowley hadn't wanted that.
There's no denying that he's selfish. Being around him isn't really good for anyone, but he still tries his best to pull Blake in over and over again because he wants Blake to be okay, but he also wants Blake just a little bit more than he wants what's best for him, even with all that human empathy and guilt. ]
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Yes. [ And then a pause. ] Why didn't you? [ That seems the more important question. ]
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[ He thinks that should be obvious. All of it should be obvious. He probably hid it for a lot of the same reasons that addicts hide their habits, even if he maintains that this is different--probably closer to marijuana than anything else that might use a needle and his cravings are hardly of a physical nature. ]
And because I've always found it necessary to hide my weaknesses.
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This started back home? When you were away.
[ It's mostly a hypothetical question and a conclusion wrapped in one because he's fairly certain that was the message Crowley meant to convey when this had first come up. ]
But I don't get it. 'Cause I've never been anything but a human, right? Just can't understand. [ There's a little bitterness there and Blake's not even bothering to hide it. ] 'Specially if I never find out.
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He takes a gamble and reaches for Blake's arm to press a gentle palm to his bicep. ]
Imagine... that you want something so much that you trade away your humanity for it. You're given ten years to enjoy it and then, whether you're ready or not, it's torn from you forcibly until you can't remember what it feels like to feel anything but hate and anger and greed.
[ He swallows. ]
And then you're given a taste of the better end of that spectrum and you know how you can get it back. Do you walk away from that?
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He shakes his head a little, glaring ever so slightly. ]
You're tellin' me what? Let's make it clear, right here, right now. This is your reform? Your addiction's also your rehabilitation?
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[ Sighing, he moves closer, squeezing Blake's arm. It's always been a strange mix here in Wonderland. He thinks maybe it had started out as some sort of self-actualized punishment. Feeling human had meant feeling guilt and loneliness beyond compare. ]
It started back in my world, but I think here it... escalated. How many times has this place rendered me human? I couldn't know how much I had lost until I felt it again.
[ His voice drops then. ]
Even the guilt is worth it.
[ And it's no less than he deserves. ]
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He gestures at the other man and then folds right back in on himself. ]
So, what are you, Crowley? Demon? Human? What will you be, or don't you know?
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[ He crosses his arms and it's an almost vulnerable stance for Crowley. ]
Dean did almost all of it to me when I first arrived here. We were from different times and I didn't know that where he was from, Sam had already done it to me back there. I know now. Both of them stopped at the last possible moment.
[ He's not trying to blame them, per se, but they are a part of this. They brought him to the ledge, even if he chose to jump off all on his own. ]
Since when do you care what I am, anyway?
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Since when? [ Unbelievable. ] Crowley, I don't care what you are. If I did, you think we woulda—?
[ After all of this, John feels entirely misunderstood and that doesn't just count for Crowley. Does this really matter, or is he hurt for other reasons? Either way, hurt is hurt is hurt. ]
I- [ Blake huffs. ] I care who you are. Don't you? Or is it whatever's the flavor of the day for you?
[ Turning away, John growls to himself. ] Know it's not, but... fuck. What—? Why? You can't just—! [ AUGH! ]
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[ He's not the King of Hell anymore. He knows that. Maybe he'll get the title back back home and he'll take care of Abaddon, but here it's all a front. Here, it's to keep his enemies at bay and to keep himself balanced. It's not real.
He's not even the Crossroads demon. When was his last deal? Emma? ]
I know I'm happier when you're around. That's what I know.
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[ John shoves his finger at Crowley and jabs at his chest, adjacent to furious and entirely uncertain as to why. ]
How d'you know—? How d'you know what's—? [ Real. He wants to know if any of it was real, is real, what Crowley wanted, or just a side effect. What if everything they've built is a product of something that, by all accounts, wouldn't normally exist?
Blake worries he may never understand the thought process in the demon's choices that have gotten them here. ]
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[ He takes the jabbing, because he deserves it to some extent. He deserves more, really, but maybe that just comes from the fact that he's overindulged these past few days and he doesn't like knowing that he's hurt Blake, even if he doesn't regret his actions. ]
If you would deny me that, then you're not the John Blake I thought I knew.
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You wanna know why I don't believe you're actin' with altruism in mind?
[ He'll ask and he'll let the demon decide if he really wants to hear what he has to say. ]
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[ His quiet voice from earlier all but dies. How can he explain any of this? How can he fix any of this? No one wants to trust him. ]
I feel guilty. Do you comprehend what that means for me? I shouldn't feel guilt. I shouldn't have emotional regrets like this.
[ He shakes his head. ]
What did you want from me if not that?
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What-what if you stop? Then what? Are you-? A-are you just gonna be diff'rent- someone diff'rent? Someone I don't even recognize?
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[ He'll stop. He'll stop if that's what it takes. Maybe he should have. He doesn't deserve to feel that much humanity. He'd made his choices long ago.
Maybe Blake is right and he can't have this anymore. ]
Maybe I'll never be altruistic, but that doesn't mean I have to be a monster. You're the one who taught me that.
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Is it makin' you feel things you wouldn't normally feel?
[ This is the question he poses, and he does so with probably the serious intent he's had in a very long time. He doesn't want half-truths, either. Crowley should know that by now. He's a demon and that's his reality since making that deal. How much does nature allow him to stray from that model? Or is it all the blood keeping him on this side of selfish and uncaring? ]
Yes or no.
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[ Honestly. He does want to give that to Blake in a way that he doesn't normally give so freely, because there is a difference between the truth and the truth and Crowley has volunteered more information to Blake than anyone else for a while now. ]
It's more about giving me the capacity to feel than making me feel anything specific. I still feel like myself. These feelings are still me.
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You're right, you know. You said I wouldn't understand and I don't. Not even when you say it like that.
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I know, but I want you to. You have no idea how much...
[ He moves closer again, desperate for any shred of Blake that he can feel or smell or taste. ]
I don't know what I'm supposed to do now.
[ And he's scared, well and truly. He needs Blake to get him through the day to day that is this place. It's not the same without him. ]
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He's so tempted to give in. Every part of him demands a different move, but his feet are firmly planted and he's good at reminding himself he needs to keep them there; there's no good use for a guy with his head up in the clouds.
John clears his throat. ]
Need some time to think. Need— need a coupla days. Sorry if that's not what you wanna hear, but—
[ He works his jaw and looks back toward the mansion just to have another point of focus. ]
It's how it's gotta be for now.
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Okay.
[ Focusing on the mansion really is easier and he looks for whatever Blake is looking at. ]
But I meant what I said. I'll have your back either way, darling. That's not going to change.
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[ It's all he offers, but it's some sign of good faith and what they once had. Not a yes, not a no, just his clear commitment to the part of Crowley's he's proven again and again. Hopefully the reverse is as obvious, because Blake relies on the demon to come to that conclusion.
And then with a wave, he turns on his heel and off he goes, very much the hanged man for the time being. ]
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