[ Percy isn't sure how he feels about coming back from the dead.
There's a part of him that thinks that he can feel the barrel of a gun against his head even though that is complete nonsense; he had no sense of the world when her gun had been against him. The darkness of Orthax, the panic of dropping down, knowing he forgave her and feeling that bliss of freedom, knowing that he had done something good even in the midst of all that mess and uncertainty, knowing that -
He hadn't been sure that he would come back, but here he is.
He's still incredibly tired, but there's a sense of buzzing energy under him, in his limbs, that has him climbing out of bed in the middle of the night. He's exhausted but he wants something more, wants to do something, and he goes and walks, seeking something. What Percy wants is to be grounded, to be given something that might anchor him to this world, more than the magic of a resurrection ritual, more than the words in his ears, soft and gentle and real. He had made the choice to come back and he does not regret it, but...
There's something else. He wants something else. He needs to feel alive again.
It doesn't take long for him to find what he's looking for, hands pressed palm flat against the door before he breathes out, lifting a hand, knocking, once, twice, three times. Sharp, aristocratic. Obvious. ]
[ I am...so sorry, Vax had said to his sister, standing in a wreck of broken glass, the blood of their friend spattered across the ground. They hadn't been able to stop it from happening. For a long, terrible moment, Vax hadn't been sure they'd be able to bring Percy back either.
Back in Whitestone, the jittery aftermath still impresses itself upon them. They had nearly paid a terrible price for the dagger that sits on Vax's hip, for the cloak they had pulled from Ripley's body. Vax had tread down to the temple Percy had made for him and prayed, fumbling over thanks that he wonders was not best lavished entirely on Pike. Faith comes slowly, even when he feels ghostly fingers dance up the nape of his neck and guide him out of the temple. He still feels them lingering as he carefully removes the Deathwalker's Ward piece by piece.
And then, the knock. ]
You look terrible, [ is the first thing Vax tells him, though the humor falls flat in spite of his intentions. So he continues, pressing: ] I know you're supposed to be resting.
[ The door opens as he says this, Vax stepping aside in unspoken invitation. It's Percy's castle, of course, but beyond that, he's at Vax's door for a reason. Vax is content to wait for it, and to push Percy into his own bed in hopes of him falling asleep before he manages to get to it. ]
[ Nothing feels the same, he's realised, once you've come back from the dead. There's no sense of feeling reborn, of being remade, as if his past life has been forgiven - it's quite the opposite, actually. He feels burdened by his own choices, by the knowledge that Ripley had won, even for a moment - that she had bested him, that with his old friend at her side she had taken him down and he had fallen. It's a bristling kind of agony that Percy does not like in the least.
What he wants, he thinks, is to wrap his arms around Vax and just hold on, to badger some kind of sympathy for him, but he cannot quite give himself the confidence to do that. Instead he thinks he might be able to ply company with a good bottle of whiskey and some desperation, his eyes flickering and wide before he manages himself, standing a little taller, forcing himself to be Percival rather than just Percy.
That might make all this a little easier. ]
I was resting. It just wasn't... Restful.
[ Which sounds utterly ridiculous, but he thinks Vax might understand.
Slipping inside, Percy sighs and twitches a little, hesitating. He wants, something, but his voice seems to be caught in his throat. Instead he coughs, reaching to his belt and tugging off the bottle, as if that was his intention the entire time, as if his mind was not wandering at all. ]
[ Yes, Vax understands. He has not died, but he knows what it is to lie down and sleep and be robbed of rest by every single nightmare rattling to life in the dark. He watches Percy straighten up and thinks, Oh, don't do that for me.
But he's quiet, closes the door behind him and gestures to his room. ]
Make yourself comfortable.
[ Whatever conclusions Vax has drawn about Percy's presence in his room, he keeps it to himself. He takes the bottle and works it open, swigs from it rather than make any pretense at finding a cup.
And he doesn't pose the question until after they've both had a swig or two: ]
Are you going to talk to me about it?
[ Though Vax is almost entirely certain Percy did not come here to talk. ]
[ It had felt endless, even before his resurrection. It had felt as though he would never wake up again, and sleep had disappeared from him as soon as that thought had settled. He didn't want to risk what might happen if he fell asleep and couldn't come to again, if his life was stolen from him a second time. Surely, he thinks, surely once is enough, and he can feel the knots in his stomach even as he glances back.
Hesitating, his hands shake as he looks at the bottle he brought with him, lifting a hand to run through his hair. ]
Thank you.
[ But it's not really enough, is it? Just drinking. It won't make all the fear and uncertainty completely disappear, and he turns back to look at the other man, hesitating for a moment before he forces himself to breathe out and relax. He has to have control of himself, even if he doesn't think he might be able to.
[ No, perhaps there isn't. Neither of them had ever been very forthcoming about what was going on in their heads. Vax lets his emotions play out across his face, move and influence him. Percy, on the other hand— ]
We could talk about why you're here.
[ Vax doesn't reach to touch him, but he turns in towards Percy. The urge to reach out is written all over him. ]
It's late, Freddie.
[ Which isn't an invitation to leave, but it is a tell in and of itself. If Percy were alright, he'd be asleep. After everything, after Glintshore and Orthax, it doesn't seem strange that something's keeping Percy up at night. It's just hard to know how to help, which of his instincts to trust. They'd only barely begun repairing their friendship. It leaves Vax in a strange position, wanting to help but not quite steady enough to know where to begin. ]
[ There's some hesitance and Percy looks lost and confused for a moment, as if he's looking for something to anchor him. Only then does he turn to look at Vax again, expression twisting. ]
We could, but must we?
[ Bowing his head, he breathes in and out gently before he shakes his head. ]
Do you want me to go? I didn't want to disturb you, I only -
[ He wanted something. He wanted something to anchor him, to make him feel better, squeezing his hands tight together. Taking his glass, he downs the emtire thing before he rests his face in his hands. ]
[ The words are simple, blunt; they're a poor vehicle for communicating just how incredible and important that is to Vax. His body shifts, turning in towards Percy as he grips his shoulder. ]
You aren't disturbing me, Freddie. I—I wouldn't complain about you being here.
[ They are all still dwelling in the wake of that moment when Percy had been gone, dead and cold on the ground. It's different then what had happened to Vex'ahlia. Vax more than anyone is aware of the distinction here. That entire night when they'd all considered the prospect that they wouldn't be able to have retrieve Percy. When Vax had considered that all his pleas to his Lady wouldn't be able to tip the scales back into their favor. ]
Have you slept at all?
[ Maybe if they don't approach the obvious questions head on, this whole thing will be easier. Vax isn't sure exactly how to make this any easier on Percy. Maybe it would have been a mercy if they'd been able to ease his re-entry into the world.
Or maybe Vax should have tried a little harder to make sure Percy had never left this world in the first place. If he'd been more convincing, if he'd been a little stronger—
He's not the only one of Vox Machina who thought this way. He knows that. They had done all they could, but that kind of logic doesn't do much in the face of Percy's unsteadiness and the lingering dread that followed in the wake of the resurrection. ]
[ It's not quite a slap in the face, but it's enough to have Percy lifting his head up again, to look over at the half-elf, eyes flickering for a moment. ]
Are you certain? I don't want to take you away from anything important.
[ As if anything is as important as coming back from the dead. His eyes flick back over to Vax and he breathes out for a moment. He has to count down from ten, to calm himself down, to bring himself back to some kind of rational state of mind - at least then he might be able to handle this again, he might be able to rationalise it completely.
He died. There's nothing that's going to make that better, going to make that okay.
Shaking his head, he reaches out and lets his hands flex for a moment, breathing out softly before he lets his head bow, just a little, feeling a twist of nausea inside of him. ]
No, no, I haven't slept. I was afraid that... [ That he might not wake up. ]
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post-ripley as promised.
There's a part of him that thinks that he can feel the barrel of a gun against his head even though that is complete nonsense; he had no sense of the world when her gun had been against him. The darkness of Orthax, the panic of dropping down, knowing he forgave her and feeling that bliss of freedom, knowing that he had done something good even in the midst of all that mess and uncertainty, knowing that -
He hadn't been sure that he would come back, but here he is.
He's still incredibly tired, but there's a sense of buzzing energy under him, in his limbs, that has him climbing out of bed in the middle of the night. He's exhausted but he wants something more, wants to do something, and he goes and walks, seeking something. What Percy wants is to be grounded, to be given something that might anchor him to this world, more than the magic of a resurrection ritual, more than the words in his ears, soft and gentle and real. He had made the choice to come back and he does not regret it, but...
There's something else. He wants something else. He needs to feel alive again.
It doesn't take long for him to find what he's looking for, hands pressed palm flat against the door before he breathes out, lifting a hand, knocking, once, twice, three times. Sharp, aristocratic. Obvious. ]
Vax.
a blessing
Back in Whitestone, the jittery aftermath still impresses itself upon them. They had nearly paid a terrible price for the dagger that sits on Vax's hip, for the cloak they had pulled from Ripley's body. Vax had tread down to the temple Percy had made for him and prayed, fumbling over thanks that he wonders was not best lavished entirely on Pike. Faith comes slowly, even when he feels ghostly fingers dance up the nape of his neck and guide him out of the temple. He still feels them lingering as he carefully removes the Deathwalker's Ward piece by piece.
And then, the knock. ]
You look terrible, [ is the first thing Vax tells him, though the humor falls flat in spite of his intentions. So he continues, pressing: ] I know you're supposed to be resting.
[ The door opens as he says this, Vax stepping aside in unspoken invitation. It's Percy's castle, of course, but beyond that, he's at Vax's door for a reason. Vax is content to wait for it, and to push Percy into his own bed in hopes of him falling asleep before he manages to get to it. ]
no subject
What he wants, he thinks, is to wrap his arms around Vax and just hold on, to badger some kind of sympathy for him, but he cannot quite give himself the confidence to do that. Instead he thinks he might be able to ply company with a good bottle of whiskey and some desperation, his eyes flickering and wide before he manages himself, standing a little taller, forcing himself to be Percival rather than just Percy.
That might make all this a little easier. ]
I was resting. It just wasn't... Restful.
[ Which sounds utterly ridiculous, but he thinks Vax might understand.
Slipping inside, Percy sighs and twitches a little, hesitating. He wants, something, but his voice seems to be caught in his throat. Instead he coughs, reaching to his belt and tugging off the bottle, as if that was his intention the entire time, as if his mind was not wandering at all. ]
Drink?
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But he's quiet, closes the door behind him and gestures to his room. ]
Make yourself comfortable.
[ Whatever conclusions Vax has drawn about Percy's presence in his room, he keeps it to himself. He takes the bottle and works it open, swigs from it rather than make any pretense at finding a cup.
And he doesn't pose the question until after they've both had a swig or two: ]
Are you going to talk to me about it?
[ Though Vax is almost entirely certain Percy did not come here to talk. ]
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Hesitating, his hands shake as he looks at the bottle he brought with him, lifting a hand to run through his hair. ]
Thank you.
[ But it's not really enough, is it? Just drinking. It won't make all the fear and uncertainty completely disappear, and he turns back to look at the other man, hesitating for a moment before he forces himself to breathe out and relax. He has to have control of himself, even if he doesn't think he might be able to.
Bowing his head, he frowns. ]
I'm not sure there's much to talk about.
[ He died, and now he is alive. That is that. ]
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We could talk about why you're here.
[ Vax doesn't reach to touch him, but he turns in towards Percy. The urge to reach out is written all over him. ]
It's late, Freddie.
[ Which isn't an invitation to leave, but it is a tell in and of itself. If Percy were alright, he'd be asleep. After everything, after Glintshore and Orthax, it doesn't seem strange that something's keeping Percy up at night. It's just hard to know how to help, which of his instincts to trust. They'd only barely begun repairing their friendship. It leaves Vax in a strange position, wanting to help but not quite steady enough to know where to begin. ]
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We could, but must we?
[ Bowing his head, he breathes in and out gently before he shakes his head. ]
Do you want me to go? I didn't want to disturb you, I only -
[ He wanted something. He wanted something to anchor him, to make him feel better, squeezing his hands tight together. Taking his glass, he downs the emtire thing before he rests his face in his hands. ]
This is just - a mess.
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[ The words are simple, blunt; they're a poor vehicle for communicating just how incredible and important that is to Vax. His body shifts, turning in towards Percy as he grips his shoulder. ]
You aren't disturbing me, Freddie. I—I wouldn't complain about you being here.
[ They are all still dwelling in the wake of that moment when Percy had been gone, dead and cold on the ground. It's different then what had happened to Vex'ahlia. Vax more than anyone is aware of the distinction here. That entire night when they'd all considered the prospect that they wouldn't be able to have retrieve Percy. When Vax had considered that all his pleas to his Lady wouldn't be able to tip the scales back into their favor. ]
Have you slept at all?
[ Maybe if they don't approach the obvious questions head on, this whole thing will be easier. Vax isn't sure exactly how to make this any easier on Percy. Maybe it would have been a mercy if they'd been able to ease his re-entry into the world.
Or maybe Vax should have tried a little harder to make sure Percy had never left this world in the first place. If he'd been more convincing, if he'd been a little stronger—
He's not the only one of Vox Machina who thought this way. He knows that. They had done all they could, but that kind of logic doesn't do much in the face of Percy's unsteadiness and the lingering dread that followed in the wake of the resurrection. ]
no subject
[ It's not quite a slap in the face, but it's enough to have Percy lifting his head up again, to look over at the half-elf, eyes flickering for a moment. ]
Are you certain? I don't want to take you away from anything important.
[ As if anything is as important as coming back from the dead. His eyes flick back over to Vax and he breathes out for a moment. He has to count down from ten, to calm himself down, to bring himself back to some kind of rational state of mind - at least then he might be able to handle this again, he might be able to rationalise it completely.
He died. There's nothing that's going to make that better, going to make that okay.
Shaking his head, he reaches out and lets his hands flex for a moment, breathing out softly before he lets his head bow, just a little, feeling a twist of nausea inside of him. ]
No, no, I haven't slept. I was afraid that... [ That he might not wake up. ]