neverfoundtheanswer

I feel like that might be worse for you. Usually reality is a little harder to grasp when you are drunk.

[At the suggestion that it might work for him, he flushes, thankfully something that probably isn't noticeable for how dark it is.] I still don't really drink. I haven't had anything for...months. [Basically since they stopped hanging out, making it embarrassingly apparent he only ever really drank to impress Kevin.]

No time like the present to fix that. [The teasing is a little bit lackluster, though, not really trying to talk him into it. He's not actually sure it ever helped that much anyway; he definitely didn't have enough information to be sure back then.]

If I'm looking for a way to avoid all of this, I think I'd rather just have you knock me out. [Still teasing, although there is a slight edge to it. The fact that everyone assumes he's doing drugs when he passes out somewhere he shouldn't be, even his family, instead of trying to help him, leaves an incredibly sour taste in his mouth. If anything he's only become more opposed to drugs and alcohol in Kevin's presence, like he could spitefully prove everyone wrong, even if they'll never actually make him take a drug test, they'd rather just believe what they want.]

[That edge makes him hesitate, not actually sure where it's coming from. It's not something Emery's ever had an issue about coming up before, but god only knows what changed while Kevin was gone.]

I'll keep that option for later. Pretty sure we could come up with something better anyway. [He squeezes Emery's hand lightly, shrugging one shoulder.]

Yeah. Maybe if we figure out what works for you, it'll work for me too. [He tries to sound a little lighter in his next statement, aware he went a little too hard a moment ago, still very hurt by the loss of his family, and the way it all came to be.

He slips into quietness again, closing his eyes with a small scowl. It's been hours and he still feels the pain, if this is the new normal, drinking might be the only option to get through this. He hopes that isn't the case.]

I suppose meditating wouldn't be enough? [Said after a bit of silence, the only sound coming from his thumb gently rubbing back and forth across Kevin's hand.] Don't they teach you to tap into certain parts of your brain and quiet other parts?

[He's pretty doubtful about that statement. Bringing more awareness to his own body probably won't do Emery any good. But he keeps that to himself, takes it as an attempt to back off and lets the silence settle for a little bit, tuning in and out of his own brain.]

I don't know. Never did it. [He frowns a little in the darkness, shifting slightly.] I don't know how much getting deeper in my head would really help.

Fair. But maybe it could teach you to tune it out. [Said conversationally, not really pushing the issue, just stating that it might be worth the discomfort if it ends up being helpful in the end.]

Wish I could give you a CT scan. [And he really sounds morose about it.] If I knew what part of your brain was affected, I could probably prescribe something for you. Or get someone else to.

Maybe. [He's not necessarily against anything that might help, honestly. It's just hard to think much about trying something new when it's already this strong right now.

He considers that for a few moments, his frown only deepening.] That's assuming this stuff actually shows up. You really think it would?

I don't think it would show up as like an injury or anything, but you are accessing some part of your brain for this, if you thought about it or followed the thread, even just slightly, I could see what part lights up. [He sounds more alert and engaged in this than he has since he first walked into Kevin's room. If it wasn't clear this stuff is his passion, it's certainly becoming more apparent.]

If I had to guess. I'd say it's your parietal lobe...we could try a medication that treats schizophrenia, see if it helps at all.

[It's honestly not something he knows how he feels about. In theory he gets that anything he's thinking about would show up somewhere, but the idea that there'd be a physical trace of the thing trapped in him feels different.

But the fact that Emery's actually invested in the conversation makes him a lot more willing to keep up with it. He hums, asks more idly than he actually feels:] Which one's that again? [He doesn't honestly care, he's just trying to keep him on this thread of conversation.]

[He moves his hand from Kevin's, only wincing slightly as he lifts his arm, pressing against the crown of his head where the parietal lobe would be.] Behind the frontal lobe, above the temporal. It's responsible for sensory output and spatial awareness, everything you see, hear, feel, as well as the position of your body and how it exists in space. [He recites the facts easily, like he has all of this information memorized and readily available to share.]

[He hums, head tilting slightly as he considers.] That'd make sense, then. Not sure how you just get one thing to cut out without screwing with everything else though. I get it if it's a sickness or something, I'm just not sure I see how it works with this.

[He shrugs, dropping his hand again. His understanding of neurosciences is pretty basic. Magical neuroscience is basically a guessing game.] If you want, I can look into it more for you, or we could just try some stuff. [Medication mostly, some of it might work.] Or we can think of something else.

If you think there's a chance it could shut this thing up-- [He makes a vague gesture towards his own temple, and then shrugs, his hand seeking out Emery's when he brings it down again.] You can try whatever you want on me, doc.

Okay. [Flips his hand up to thread his fingers with Kevin's again when he searches for it.] I'll do some research then. [He almost wants to get started right away, but it will have to wait until he can at least move without wincing.] We'll find something that works, I promise.

[He wants to point out that it's not a good promise to make, but it's not like Kevin's going to hold him to it. Anyway, maybe having something to focus on will do him some good. It seems like Emery's interested enough in it that it might work.]

Don't knock yourself out for it. [Lightly.] But it seems like a good plan to try.

I'll be fine. [Not appeasing, just matter-of-factly, he's basically always fine and he's dealt with worse. This is easy, this he'll enjoy anyway.] ...we should probably do some labs first. Make sure I don't give you anything dangerous.

[Emery knows this stuff enough that Kevin's pretty willing to just let him figure out what he needs, but he pauses at that, frowning.] Not sure how you're gonna do that. I know it's a big house but I don't think it comes with a med lab.

I just need your blood. Then I'll run it at work. Or school. [He basically has his choice of labs to be honest.]

Nobody's gonna notice you doing weird tests on some random blood? [He's not dubious so much as kind of amused, willing to take Emery's word for it.]

Probably not. I'm always working on random stuff, I don't think they'll even question it. [One of the perks of being a model student means that no one looks twice as long as he doesn't make it a problem for anyone else. They mostly just leave him alone.]

Alright. Then I guess just tell me when you're ready to get my blood. [He shrugs slightly, accepting it easily enough. It could be worse, there's way more invasive stuff he could want to try.]

As soon as I can think of something other than my skin boiling, I'll be good to go. [Meaning he already has everything he would need in his room. Always grabbing a few extra supplies for everything he does at work so he can take one home, he's started growing a little collection of medical supplies, never knowing when it might come in handy.]

Christ. [He doesn't sound surprised, just sympathetic, squeezing Emery's hand.] Maybe you should deal with your own blood first. See if there's a way to help with that. [No, he has absolutely no idea if that's even possible, but that's not the point.]

I have. [Obviously. His own blood was the very first he looked at. It certainly doesn't look normal, the skin cells over his tattoos don't either. But he can't quite pinpoint the difference or how to fix it. He's got the passion but he's still only a beginner at all of this.] I've tried some stuff, it just doesn't do much. Some of it makes it worse.

[He learned the hard way that anything topical basically just amplifies the burn. Water, ice, burning creams, all feel like salt in the wound. Figures that the bastard wouldn't give him an easy fix for this. Magic injury probably only responds to magic medicine.]

open post

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)