neverfoundtheanswer

[He watches for a few moments once they're both out of the car, checking to make sure Misha's pretty steady. He seems okay enough, so Kevin starts to the door so he can get it open, holding it and gesturing the kid inside first. It's only dim at the moment, though there's still spots in the house with blackout curtains, even if they're more habit by now than generally necessary, if it's really that bad.]

Any better? [Sometimes this is all he really needs, a little time away in a quieter environment. Not usually, but it's a good place to start.]

[It’s better in the house, where it’s dim and quiet and not moving, but it’s still not great. He can hear the slight worry in Kevin’s head but mostly tunes it out, it’s just the two of them so it’s easy for him to let it fade to the background. He leans against the wall once he’s inside, keeping his sunglasses on for the time being.]

A little. [Not enough though, and he’s sure his uncle can see it even before he answers the rest.]

[He still looks pretty miserable, but a little is better than nothing. Kevin reaches out briefly, fingers lightly touching Misha's shoulder, not wanting to add to the sensory overload if he can help it.] Try to get yourself to the couch while I grab stuff, alright?

[It won't take him very long to get back, but the couch also isn't very far.]

Yeah, thanks. [He shuffles himself over to the couch carefully. At least he’s familiar enough with the house that he could probably do it with his eyes closed, he’s been coming here since he was a toddler, always closest with Kevin and Emery than any of the other kids are.

Once he’s seated, he settles with his head back, closing his eyes, rubbing his temple slightly. It’s insane what a difference this place is to his own. The silence unsettling the first few times he experienced it, like he’d lost his ability altogether. But he can still vaguely hear Kevin in the back of his mind, just out of sight.]

[He isn't gone for long, they tend to keep things pretty accessible. Mostly for Misha's sake, both of them used to their nephew coming around when he needs help. It's hard to begrudge him for it; the situation might be pretty different, but they both know what it's like to suffer because of some supernatural thing you can't do anything about.

He makes his way back to the couch with full hands, setting things down on the coffee table before nudging gently at Misha's arm, holding out a cold pack.] Start with this.

[He can tell when Kevin is back even before he's fully entered the room, the thoughts becoming a little more clear, if he really focused in, he could see a lot more, but he lets it stay white noise, sitting up when his uncle sets things out on the coffee table.]

Alright. [He's pretty used to the routine now, all the different methods to try first -- takes the icepack and puts it against his head, letting part of it press against his temple, the source of most of the pain today.]

[He's not sure how much it'll do, it seems pretty bad today; but at least it's immediate, for whatever relief it can offer. He watches Misha for a few moments, just taking in where it seems to hurt the most, how he's looking, before he slides forward to the edge of the couch to shuffle through and get everything else set up.

His voice is soft when he speaks again after a minute, an idle question, just curious.] Anything set it off this time?

[He's still tense, and pale under his glasses, trying not to move as much and make anything worse. After another few minutes, he slides the cold pack around to his neck, not lingering in one spot for too long.

He hesitates to respond, not sure if there is anything that really set it off, it feels like it's just been building for a while this time. Everyone struggling at once with so many things.] Went to Pops for a bit, there were a few new people there...and my dad had a few rough days this week. [A double whammy of new voices he couldn't tune out and stress.]

[He just nods a little, listening, knowing Misha can't see him but figuring the awareness of his presence is enough.] How's he today?

[Honestly he assumes that if it was too bad Misha wouldn't have let himself leave. But it's still an open door if he needs to talk about it.]

He knows who I am. [So it's an improvement, even if it's only a small one.] My mom's with him, and the twins. I'm not much use when I'm like this.

[If his mom wasn't able to stay, then he definitely would still be there, but he's pretty sure that even she recognized how much pain he was in and stepped in, forced him to take care of himself.]

Well, your mom's pretty good at keeping things in line. So all you've gotta do is relax a little.

[Which is what Kevin's here to facilitate, tapping Misha's hand gently to let him know he's reaching out before handing over a joint and a lighter.]

[He scoffs lightly at the suggestion, wincing as he does, the effort hurting his head before sitting up to accept the items from his uncle, steadying himself before lighting it, taking a few quick puffs and holding it in.] Too bad I need all this to do that.

[The meds Uncle Emery has him on help too, take a bit of the edge off, but he's not sure he's ever fully relaxed, probably not even with all this. He takes another hit, breathing it in deep before holding the joint out to Kevin. Sometimes his uncle joins him, but not always, there's no judgement there either way, it's just nice to not always be high alone. He tends to judge himself more when he is.]

Hey, everyone needs something. You might need more than some people, but that's okay. [He shrugs a little, the statement matter-of-fact, no judgement in it. Given all the ways he spent his time trying to shove away his problems at Misha's age, he's the last person to say there's something wrong with needing a little help.

He pauses for a moment, considerations running through the back of his head -- how much he might have to do today (not a lot), how close he feels to tripping into worse habits. It's the second that gets him to refuse more often than the first, but he's doing pretty well right now, so he takes the offer, taking a hit as he settles back into the couch before passing it back.]

[The only reason he doesn't argue back is because he knows it isn't hollow words. He's seen the struggles his uncle has been through, both his uncles, and he knows that they would understand more than most.

He leans back as Kevin takes his own hit, letting the drugs loosen his limbs, and settle anything bothering him. He doesn't blame anyone for wanting to use this stuff to disappear, if he had more free time, he'd probably spend most of it high -- maybe that's why his parents only let him engage with Kevin. More controlled that way.]

It doesn't feel okay. [He admits, taking the joint back, the smoke relaxing not only his muscles but pretty much everything he normally holds back.] Feels like everything could fall apart if I'm not holding it all together.

[He shifts a little so he's turned towards Misha, head leaning against the back of the couch, watching him.] It's not your job to hold it all together, D. [Not that it ever does any good to say so. He's said it before, but he doubts it'll ever change Misha's mind.] You don't have to do everything.

[He doesn't answer right away, taking another hit off the joint before saying anything, holding it in for a few moments before exhaling.] There's no one else to do it. [He can't leave it all up to his mom, who is nearly as stressed as he is, being the only one in the house that works, trying to stay on top of all his dads shit, keeping the twins in line.]

What do you think you've got all of us for? [Not just him and Emery, although they do go out of their way to try to help out how they can, even if neither of them are great at the babysitting part. But even if some people are closer than others, the extended family is pretty big, and usually happy to help if asked. Unfortunately, Misha's about as stubborn and bad at asking as his mother is.]

I know...it's just not that easy. [Especially because there are times when his dad doesn't know anyone, not even Emery and Kevin -- not even his mom. And it's hard enough to deal with that, let alone having other people know he deals with it too.

He takes another hit before passing it back over, rubbing his eyes slightly.] I can handle it. It's just difficult on days like this. [When the damn migraines get in the way.]

No one thinks you can't, kid. [If anything, the problem is that Misha is better at it than he should have to be. It makes it too easy for things to get left on his shoulders, because the fact that he's struggling isn't always obvious.] Just that you don't have to do it alone.

Yeah, well...[He doesn't really have a response to that. He feels bad enough asking for help with things like this, like somehow his power is his own cross to bear, he shouldn't make anyone else have to deal with it too. ] You already help a bunch.

Well, I'm pretty sure there's a minimum hours required to be a part of the family. Like community service. [It's a fond joke; Kevin might not be as inclined to go out of his way for people in general as a lot of people in their weird little group, but he does go out of his way for people that are important. And they're all important, if not to him then to people who are already his, which is what matters.] If I can do it while hanging out with my favorite nephew, all the better.

[It makes him smile at least, huffing out a breath, almost a laugh.] It's not much of a competition. [The twins are a bit too crazy for anyone to really get close to, and he is named after Emery, which probably sways both of their opinion quite a bit.] But thanks.

[He flaps a hand, dismissing the correction with a little grin.] An easy win's still a win. [Punctuated by taking another hit and then holding it out for Misha.]

No, you’re right, I’ll take it. [Lord knows he needs a win right now, even if it’s an easy one.

He takes the joint back, already feeling better, the effect obvious in the way his face relaxes, the fact that he’s joking back finally.] Just don’t make me pick a favorite between you and Uncle Emery. It’s too close to call.

[It's always a relief to see him relax a little bit, be able to put down a little of the stress, even if it's only for a little while. He grins, leaning a little more back into the couch.] Em will understand if you like me better, I am pretty cool.

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