sleepyhollowed | IC Inbox for redshiftrp

[One of the robots had been nice enough to program Kieran's communicator with extra audio functions, with every press of a button and message popping up on the screen announcing itself with a pleasant tone and further guidance when necessary. It's made his use of the device less a matter of hopeful running his fingers over familiar symbols and more of an interactive experience. One that he's still getting used to--and wary of, since now anyone in his immediate vicinity was privy to his business--but alleviating, nonetheless.]

[He answers his communicator with the slightest hint of hesitation, and nods as Carlisle speaks. He's silent for a little while longer before he responds.]

Y-Yeah, I remember you.

[His tone isn't necessarily the warmest, but it's at least devoid of disdain for the man. Uneasiness, is more like it.]

Thanks. Uh. F-Fer yer help.

[Well, he didn't immediately chastise Carlisle, hang up on him, or the former followed by the latter. That's better than Carlisle expected, frankly.]

I called to apologize for what happened. I extended my energies beyond what I could control, resulting in your current state, and... the chaos that followed.

[Oh. Right. All that stuff.]

[Kieran's not entirely sure how he should tackle this leg of the conversation. Regardless of the consequences, Carlisle had no small hand in saving his life--and things could be much worse than they are now.]

[Still... the whole situation has Kieran uneasy. He can't ignore what followed, but he can't brush away the good that came out of it, either.]

Look, uh...

[He lets loose a frustrated sigh.]

You don't... it's... Without everythin' you did, I wouldn't even have eyes in my head anymore. Hell, I may have even b-bled to death on the way here. Y-You helped saved my life, Carlisle. I m-mean it when I say thank you fer that.

I-I can't ignore all the other stuff that happened, too, even if I ain't sure I understand most of it [It doesn't help that he couldn't see what went down, but that's extra salt that doesn't need to be poured into anyone's wounds today], but I'll always be grateful to ya.

[There's something about being thanked again that catches Carlisle off-guard. As indignant as he's been in arguments over the past couple of weeks that yes, he did manage to accomplish some healing and that should be acknowledged, he's still furious with himself for losing control over his abilities in the first place. Doing so put them all in danger. It's his fault. It's a risk he shouldn't have taken. Why didn't he stop? It's his fault. They could have all died and risen, just like in Bear Den, and it'd be his—

Stop. He forces a breath through him; the receiver picks it up easily.]

I could finish my work.

No!

[Woah. Hang on a second.]

[The outburst even catches Kieran by surprise, and he clamps his mouth shut while he processes exactly what could have fueled it. His limbs are trembling and his breath, although quiet, is fast and heavy.]

[He's scared. But of what?]

[Kieran opens his mouth, and out spills the first thing that comes to mind.]

W-What if... you know.

[That outburst surprises Carlisle, too; he'd expected reluctance, but not a volatile refusal. He remains silent until Kieran speaks again, and he can hear it in his voice: fear, uncertainty. Carlisle is intimately familiar with both.]

I would sooner see myself dead before I let that happen again.

[Kieran might be uncertain, but Carlisle's voice holds nothing but conviction.]

Edited 2019-11-25 00:19 (UTC)

[Kieran doesn't doubt that for a second.]

[And that's... kind of the issue. There's already been too much death and suffering for him to trust that something won't go awry again. Not yet, at least.]

I hear ya.

[He certainly can't see Carlisle, and when that's only one part of the problem, then you know it's messy as hell.]

I just. I don't want you to have to go that far again. I-It ain't right.

[Then again, neither is what happened to Kieran.]

...But I also don't wanna stay like this.

I would not need to go through such agony again. If... if I had taken it slower, I would not have needed to go through it at all.

[Nor would he have put them in danger. Was his pride really worth it? Was his need to justify his continued existence worth risking their lives? He knows the answer now, his vision better in hindsight.]

I was a healer by trade before... I came here. It is my duty to serve others, to stave off death and undeath in any way. What value do I have if I cannot help people? I would—

[He sighs, biting back his earnestness. It escapes him easier when his nerves distract him.]

I would do it differently were I given the chance, but I would heal you again regardless. I was nearly finished. Please, just... consider it, if you would.

['What value do I have if I cannot help people?']

[It's that line right there that strikes a chord deep inside of Kieran and awakens a deep, understanding empathy towards how Carlisle feels. He gets that desperation, that need to prove one's worth through their work--through how useful they could be to another person.]

[Validation is one hell of a drug.]

[Kieran feels for him, but he also can't shake that uneasy feeling that 'yes' sends throughout his body.]

I don't... I don't think I'm ready to try it again. N-Not yet.

That ain't a no, I promise. Just... not yet.

[Kieran's right: it's not a no, and that's enough to bring Carlisle some relief from his suffocating grief. His voice is quiet on the other end, softened by his gratitude.]

Of course. I- I am duty-bound to help you, and am yours anytime you need me.

That that ain’t necessary! Really!

[Don’t make him feel like he’s important, Carlisle, it’s weird!!! He’s never been important before!!!]

Just knowin’ yer willin’ to help is enough.

It is not enough for me.

[Said like someone who will always, always be the harshest judge of himself. Still, knowing he shouldn't trouble the man he wants so desperately to help, he relents.]

I will leave you to rest for now. Please, should there be anything I can do for you in the meantime, or should you change your mind...

[He assumes Kieran can call him, blind or not. He answered the phone, so surely?]

Sure.

[Yeah, he can definitely get that sentiment. Kieran nods to himself, unsure if Carlisle can see it or not (he's pretty sure it's the kind of message he can only hear, not one that looks like one of those moving pictures). Still, it can't hurt to affirm that understanding, even if it's only to himself.]

[But that understanding also means he knows how it feels to be wracked with that special kind of guilt that comes from judging yourself.]

Hey, uh, i-if you want, even if it ain't fer healin' or anythin', I wouldn't mind it if you visited or if we went somewhere and did somethin' relaxin'.

It'd be a nice change from all of... this.

[He almost objects on the principle that Kieran ought not want to be in his presence voluntarily after what happened. He almost balks at the notion that the fellow he was supposed to heal -- who is still blind, he hasn't forgotten that part -- is offering him his company. He almost wonders if his channel afflicted the poor man with a mental trauma so severe that he feels compelled to reach out to an absolute abomination for some modicum of camaraderie.

But he doesn't. He doesn't because despite his reservations and the fact that he is duty-bound to help Kieran, he is touched to be offered something that feels just a bit like forgiveness. If nothing else, it is a kindness Carlisle doesn't think he deserves, but after what he put Kieran through, he's disinclined to deny him anything.]

Of course.

[His voice is soft as he bites back a combination of confusion and unadulterated gratitude.]

Should you need anything at all, I am yours. If you want me to come right now, I would.

Sure! It's up to you if you wanna come over or not. I don't have a room yet or anythin', so I'm still in the hospital.

['Medbay' is still a little weird for him to say, but 'hospital' rolls right off the tongue.]

But don't think that yer, uh, obliged to visit. That wouldn't be any fun.

[Kieran's extending an olive branch of sorts, but it wouldn't mean anything if Carlisle felt like he was being forced into taking it or that he was duty-bound. That's not forgiveness. At least, it's not the kind that Kieran is offering.]

I cannot imagine a visit with me is very fun in the first place. As a healer and clergy, most visits from me were not social ones.

[He says that so matter-of-factly. Forgive his casual self-deprecation, Kieran. He's kind of a shut-in in general. There's a pause where he rubs the back of his neck.]

Though... as you are the one who offered, I suppose the circumstances are different here.

[And sequestering himself in his room is not the answer, no matter how much he believes it may be. Genji insisted he must keep moving forward, striving to do better. How he can and convincing himself to actually do it is the hardest part. He can start with Kieran, a man he wronged, however accidentally. Carlisle knows just how panicked he gets without his glasses, when the world becomes so out-of-focus that he cannot discern people from furniture, friends from threats. How frightening must it be to have been rendered completely blind? To not be able to see anything at all?]

Know you what room you are in? Or should I simply look for you?

Fer, uh, fer what it’s worth, yer a lot different than any clergy I ever met.

[As it turns out, priests and preachers in Kieran’s time and place don’t tend to raise the dead in horrific amalgamations of flesh and bone. That in mind, he gives a chuckle. He can laugh at it a little now, at least. Sure, it’s born from a dry sense of humor, tempered by dark experiences and memories, but beggars can’t be choosers of their coping mechanisms.]

And you ain’t gonna be a bore! I’m in Room Three when yer ready! If you get lost, ask one of them robot fellers. They’ll lead you over real quick.

I... will be sure to do that.

[No he won't. He will die (again) before he asks the constructs for help. Regardless, he hangs up with a polite farewell, and makes his way to the Medbay, finds Room 3, and knocks on the door. His voice on the other side is quiet; he'd rather the constructs didn't hear.]

Mister Kieran?

[Going to be 'Mister' from now until the end of time, sorry Kieran. Hope you like titles.]

[Kieran is pretty quick in answering the door for what is a somewhat familiar voice. Granted, the last time he'd heard Carlisle speak had been in the middle of some bonafide chaos, but that was in the past. Even if he's still bearing the aftermath of that fateful day, he knows it's important to put it behind him. To dwell on it would only make that occasional pang in his chest a permanent, unwelcome resident.]

[After the door slides open, Kieran steps to the side to allow Carlisle room to step into the main area.]

Hey! Thank you fer makin' the trip.

[There's a strip of sterile cloth covering his eyes, a graduation from his previous bandages, but his movements are no less awkward than usual (so, still pretty awkward) despite his inability to see. He waits until Carlisle speaks before trying to face him, relying on any signs of the other man breathing or fidgeting to guide the general direction where he should turn his head.]

C-Come on in!

[The blindfold just makes Carlisle's failure feel worse somehow; he rubs the back of his neck, grateful Kieran can't see how he fidgets immediately.]

You need not thank me for visiting you when I am partially to blame for your condition, Mister Kieran.

[Been here all of a minute, and he's a party pooper already.]

[Wow, Debbie, way to be a downer.]

Like I said before, if it weren't fer you, my 'condition' would be a lot worse.

I'd probably be dead. Or I wouldn't have any eyes at all. Or both.

So, I'm gonna thank you fer comin' and fer yer help. Now go ahead and take a seat if you want.

[SO THERE.]

[Kieran's insistence that what Carlisle did was the better outcome gives the clergyman pause; he'd been making that exact argument, desperately trying to cling to the notion that he still had some value left as a healer -- as a person -- when he'd been chastised for pushing himself too far, putting all of them in danger. He'd chastised himself plenty after they'd taken Kieran to the medbay, forcing himself to swallow down his internal frustration before he let it consume him; with Ben, he'd tried to brush it off, given he'd been there in the heat of the moment, had to fight off an uncontrolled abomination himself. However, Qubit's reprimanding him was seemingly the last straw, and with it, what confidence and self-worth he still had crumbled. He had nearly let his bitterness consume him when the Redshift took them.

But the man who has all the reason in the world to be angry with his failure is the one adamantly insisting on thanking him. He feels young again, an adolescent on the cusp of manhood standing forever in the shadow of his disappointed father while his uncles insist he is worthy of praise. He crosses his arms stiffly, visibly embarrassed as he tries to sort out just how he feels about that -- about having some modicum of his value as a person handed back to him.

He nods, only to remember Kieran can't see him.]

Y- yes, of course. Thank you.

[Carlisle can be a stubborn thing, but the moment someone gives him an order, he tends to fall right in line. He takes the seat as he's told, the chair scratching audibly on the floor as he moves it. He clears his throat, trying to distance himself from his thoughts.]

I... assume others have been to visit you.

[If Kieran were privy to the thoughts crossing through Carlisle's mind, he'd tell him a simple truth: Carlisle has value, no matter what, and his work is a testament to that value. Not the other way around.]

[It would also make him a hypocrite.]

[Kieran grew up with a sense of worth dictated entirely by his ability--or lack thereof--to work. From a young age, he'd had to strike out on his own, fulfilling tasks in exchange for some food and a bed, with no job guaranteed as steady. As long as he was useful, he'd live another day. The same mantra carried him through the rest of his life, even as an outlaw.]

[So, he gets it. He gets having one's worth tied directly with what they can do, and how any sort of restriction placed on one's ability to be of some help to others is far more damaging emotionally than the physical manifestation of limitation itself. It's why he can't be angry at Carlisle for not returning his sight completely--how could he disparage someone who tried to bring back his sense of usefulness by sacrificing his own?]

[Losing his eyes was a setback that made it so he couldn't prove that he had value to the rest of Anchor, and he had to face that every day. If it weren't for the continued reassurances from his friends... well... this would be an entirely different conversation.]

[And maybe that's where he can help Carlisle.]

Yeah! Lots of folk have been comin' over. And if they can't make it, then they'll call on the communicator.

[Kieran walks by Carlisle after hearing that scrape against the floor, mapping where he's moved the chair to remember for later. It'd be too awkward to correct him otherwise, especially when it sounds like Carlisle is already uncomfortable.]

[He finds his way to the bed and sits down on its edge, cocking his head to where he can approximate Carlisle's location. He's getting better at that.]

Ben, uh, Ben calls [it's still so weird to use that terminology...] pretty much every day.

Ah. Ben.

[Just a pinch of hesitation there, awkwardness instilled in his tone. Not dislike, but trepidation, almost fear in saying his name.]

I have... spoken with him. He is quite protective of you.

[Oooooh boy, that doesn't sound super.]

He-he sure is.

[Although it's something Kieran appreciates, he's also sympathetic towards anyone who manages to somehow catch Ben's ire. Then again, considering how gentle his friend is, said person must have messed up spectacularly for that to happen.]

[Which leads to the main question...]

Didja make him mad or somethin'?

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