donkeyballs | Reverie: IC Inbox

[ A few seconds later, the door opens and Alex appears. He's pulling his jumpsuit back on, which, given the sling, is more difficult than it sounds, and he looks extremely worried. The bandage is still there, at the base of his throat. ]

Amos? What's wrong? Who's hurt? Is Naomi okay--

[ Amos' eyes move from Alex's face to the bandage on his neck and he moves in, a large hand pushing Alex back into his quarters as he stands there, letting the door slide shut behind him. ]

You got bit by a vampire?

[ He wasn't expecting the push, and the stumbles back a few steps, the door whooshing closed behind Amos. The surprise is all too clear on his face - until the other man talks. Then instead of looking surprised, his expression shifts to something more annoyed. ]

I donated blood. [ Let's correct that right this second. ] And I'm fine.

[ He finishes pulling the jumpsuit over his good arm, and then zips it up, the collar obscuring the bandage.]

What in the hell is wrong with you?

[ Anger isn't some new thing for Amos. It's one of the few feelings he is so used to living with it's like he doesn't really register it most of the time. But right now, he registers it. It's anger, mixed up with something else - concern, worry. ]

I know you're soft-hearted, but I didn't know you to be an idiot as well. Letting some random guy drink your blood?

[ He doesn't tend to judge, when people are feeling self-destructive, but this is taking it too far. ]

You fucking want to get into kinky shit, that's your call. But there's kinky shit and there's kinky shit that gets you killed, Alex.

[ Alex bristled visibly, his expression darkening as he stood up a little straighter. ]

Kinky-- Is that what you think this is? Some frigging sex thing?

Christ, Amos, the kid is hurt. I found him passed out in the god damned showers! This isn't about - Jesus, Amos!

[ Would it be better if it was a sex thing? If it wasn't Alex, once more, trying to play hero and letting himself into situations he has no control over?

Probably. Amos stands up straighter as well, crossing his arms over his chest. ]

Then fucking actually donate blood, put it in a bag, let him suck that dry!

[ Amos spits the words out, his eyes open wide, growing expressionless as his habits kick in. He's not used to fighting with words. ]

He could have drained you, left you a fucking husk. Did you even think for a second before you tipped your head back for him?

Yeah, because that's gonna be a vampire's best mode for survival. Make a god damn post on the network askin' for blood and then leave a drained corpse lyin' around? He'd be dead in minutes, Amos, he ain't stupid.

He told me day one what his deal was, and I've been around him plenty o' times since. He never even looked sideways at me, not even once, and he had plenty of opportunity to take it without fuckin' advertising for it, first!

[ He reached up, pulling he collar back and ripping off the bandaid, where the bite had already completely scabbed over and even looked on the way to being healed. ]

See? It's barely even there. I'm fine.

[ Underneath the growing beard on Amos's jaw, the muscles tick as he grits his teeth. The feeling that gripped him at Frank's words, the anger, it's - overwhelming.

Turning slightly, Amos doesn't think as he drives his fist against the metal wall, inches from Alex's side. The pain shoots up his knuckles along his forearm but he doesn't react to it, nostrils flaring as he looks at Alex. ]

You like to think you're such a fucking pimp, sitting in your pilot's chair doing all sorts of fancy maneuvers, talking about saving the system with your family. When deep down, you're just an asshole like the rest of us. An overcompensating one.

[ He jumps. Not a lot, but enough to underline that he both hadn't expected the sudden violence and when it happened, hadn't been all that sure it wasn't aimed at him. He's been through hell and back with Amos, but there was still that underlying violence that he kept managing to somehow rile up.

He wonders sometimes if Amos would ever nearly throw Holden or Naomi down a flight of stairs by their throat.

But the fear is there and gone in an instant - a reaction of his body more than of his mind.

Mostly because his mind is pissed. ]

All I did was help the kid, and that makes me a fucking asshole? [ His voice is raised, and he doesn't really care. If Amos wanted to get into a fight in here there wasn't really shit all he could do other than yell at him. A broken arm didn't lend itself to fisticuffs. ]

What the hell do you want from me, Amos?

Edited 2018-05-31 13:03 (UTC)

I would have liked to know! Before I heard from a stranger that you were turning yourself into a blood bag!

[ Amos shakes his hand, the pain turning throbbing now. There's also the slight dizziness that takes him by surprise, making him sway for a second, his vision going blurry. He's not drunk, but he feels like he is, all of a sudden. It passes as quickly as it starts. Amos shakes the fog out of his head, turning back to Alex, his words gritted out as he keeps his jaw tight when he speaks next. ]

What makes you an asshole is that you talk a big fucking talk, Kamal, but you only walk the walk when it suits you. Tells me how I should be living my life, but can't take being told he made a mistake. Wants to be a hero, is actually a coward.

[ He gets a stab of guilt, from that. If he'd known anyone would have thought this was a big deal he would have said something - but he honestly hadn't. He wasn't sure what that said about him. But the "stranger" part makes him pause. ]

I didn't think it was a big enough deal to report - but someone apparently did. What stranger?

[ When Amos continues, though, he starts seeing red. He didn't even notice how hard he was clenching his fists until his healing arm gave a stab of pain in complaint, and he gritted his teeth. ]

That's it? That's the argument you want to have right now, Amos? Calling me a fucking coward?

You don't have a god damn clue how often I go to bat for you. How often I god damned defend you, when everyone else wants to write you off as a monster. And I'm a --

[ He could feel the veins nearly popping out of his neck. ]

You would be dead, if not for me! You and Naomi both! How dare you march in here on yer high horse and call me a coward!

[ Amos completely ignores the request to know who told him about Alex's little indiscretion, lost to the haze of anger as Alex hurl words at him like they're Gauss rounds. His nostrils flare once more, his hands closed so tight they hurt, too, his whole body tense, ready to pounce, or flee.

Fight or flight. ]

Well maybe you shouldn't, huh? I am a monster, after all, and guess what? I never asked you to defend me. See what I mean? You go on and on about how you can fight your own battles and won't let other people do the same fucking thing.

[ His voice is back to being low, now, the anger white hot quiet rather than a rising tide. He's sounding almost calm, detached, even as his heart pounds bruisingly in his chest. ]

Guess what? You'd be dead too, if it wasn't for me. You, Holden, Naomi. We all saved each other's asses out there. But I don't pretend I'm better than I am.

[ He was seething, ramrod straight and every muscle too taut. He didn't say a damn thing for several seconds and then he reached past Amos to slam the palm of his hand on the control for the door, it sliding open immediately. When he speaks his voice is growled and low. ]

Yeah well I know you're a better man than you give yourself credit for.

Good to know that don't go both ways.

Get out.

[ The words feel like a bucket of ice, upended over his head. Alex, purposefully looking to make Amos feel guilty for his words, for his decision to march over. He goes cold, from head to toe, seething anger making his hands shake.

He could say so much. He could use his words to really hurt, more than he has so far, but Alex got to him first, here. And so Amos twitches his jaw, breathes through his nose, and walks out, without another word. ]

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