2019-08-01 - Self Medicating

A weekend of resting his leg and sticking mostly to the apartment has been rough on Easton. He's tried his best to stop himself from giving in to the frustration and annoyance of being set back to nearly immobile but it's not been an easy few days. The mix of Dreams, dreams and possible visions(?) while he sleeps over the last week hasn't helped. But he's trying to take it in stride and figures that maybe talking about it will help. He texts his apologies to Alexander for missing him at the Two if by Sea the other night and asks him to meet at his place.

Dressed in a simple gray tee-shirt and a pair of black joggers, with his left leg pinned up Easton is currently on crutches in the kitchen. An array of liquor bottles are out on the countertop and he's currently mashing mint leaves for what appears to be a pitcher of Mint Juleps. It's summer. It calls for a summer drink. Normally Easton would just be drinking straight whiskey at a time like this, but he knows where that would lead and he's trying to avoid that road right now.

Alexander has a sour look on his face - his slightly red-eyed, hungover face - as he makes his way to the apartment, his shoulders hunched from going through security in Bayside. Although today it hasn't been as bad, because he's not dressed like a homeless person, although the near uniform of light blue button-down and dress slacks sort of puts him on the 'Mormon missionary' side of the road. Hung over Mormon missionary. He reaches the door and raps sharply on it - three strong knocks, a brief pause, then three more. He has a small bag in his left hand, and his own limp is subtle by this point, more care than pain. He still looks sweaty - but hey, it's a long walk.

"Come oooon in" Easton calls out, all faux chipper. But he has a pitcher of drinks so maybe it's not all faux, some of it is booze induced. He crutches around to the island and takes a seat at the counter, leaning the crutches against it. He pours a cocktail into a large glass of ice, far more than a normal serving.

There's a hesitation as Alexander stares at the door knob. But, after a moment, he reaches out and carefully lets himself in, sort of sidling inside like expecting an ambush. His eyes go immediately to Easton, taking in the drinks, the bottles, and the crutches. "Pain?" he asks, as he approaches to put the bag on an empty space. "I brought pastries. I hope you like eclairs? I should have asked."

The odd entrance seems to be about what Easton expected as he doesn't react with more than a nod and a "Welcome." The modern apartment is still quite neat despite Easton being slightly laid up and homebound for the last few days. "Pain? Eh. Fell on the stairs." He tests Alexander to see if their mutual agreement to not apologize or fret over one another holds true. He does offer, "Mint Julep? Or, anything else I can get you to drink?" Bennie has mentioned that Alexander was out at the Deuce last night, drinking like ... well like Easton on a bender. But he still offers. "I lived off MREs Alexander. I have eaten things that were never meant to be seen, much less consumed. Eclairs sound great."

Alexander's frank stare assesses the apartment - style, neatness, personal items. As if there's a checklist somewhere, and he's checking to make sure all the boxes are ticked. His attention returns to Easton, and he offers a faint smile. "Don't do that, Easton. It hurts." It's teasing, although there is a flicker of concern, he's clearly NOT going to demand further details.

Yet.

He considers the drinks, but says, "Water, please. I've exceeded my quota of alcohol for the next decade, I think." He reaches a hand up to rub at his temple, where a faint headache still throbs, despite the walking. "And I think this will be better than MREs. If I'm wrong, though, you can blame me."

The apartment being examined is something that Easton has just gotten used to. He assumes that it's a money / class thing, as he has lately had a bit of worlds colliding with people finding out what kind of digs he calls home. But he doesn't comment on it. A wry smile twists his lips at Alexander's advice. "Ah. Where were you two days ago with that nugget of wisdom?"

Easton nods to the sink and says, "Water's fine from the tap." There are glasses out and a bowl of ice near the drinks on the island. He says, "Yea I hear you were tearing it up last night? Bennie said it sounded like you were going through a lot of shit?"

"Clearly not where I was supposed to be. Should have written 'remind Easton how stairs work' into my schedule. Won't happen again," Alexander says, deadpan but with humor dancing deep in his eyes. Until the mention of the bender. He winces, and his head ducks as he walks to grab some water from the tap. "Yeah. Not the best coping mechanism. I try not to get intoxicated." A thoughtful pause. "I...suppose. I discovered that I'm the great-great-great grandson of William Gohl, the ghost who's been murdering people here in town. A bloodline like that explains a lot about me," he says, light and self-mocking.

He turns back to Easton and studies him over the glass of water. "But I gather it hasn't been all...unicorns who fart rainbows...for you, either."

"I'm looking forward to your riveting talk on escalators and ramps too." He takes a big drink and appreciates that it is much cooler and more refreshing that drinking straight whiskey. Plus, as a bonus he looks like less of a drunk this way! He laughs at Alexander's comment about not the best coping mechanism. "Like I'm going to judge you for getting shit-faced?" But then the reasoning comes out and the laughter dies off abruptly. He blinks and opens his eyes wide as if trying to focus on Alexander. "Wow. Guess we know where your people skills come from." There's light self-mocking and then there's saying you have the people skills of a notorious serial killer.

At the very specific reference to unicorns farting rainbows, Easton shrugs and says, "Well, in one way it has. Bennie's staying here for a bit." He then says as if in confession, "But on the other hand, I've been having dreams. Ironically about your granddad." Yes it's farther removed than that, but it's funnier to shorthand it. "Specifically about people digging up his grave. Including my Uncle Monty."

"I'll draw up a powerpoint." Please god, let Alexander be joking. (Alexander is not joking; a Powerpoint with painfully detailed explanations on the proper way to ascend and descend escalators and ramps WILL be delivered to Easton's place in the next few days.) The comment about Gohl just gets a simple, "Yes." He takes a sip of water, not meeting Easton's eyes. It may still be a bit of a sore subject.

He moves on. "It's not about judgment. I just don't like the way it makes me feel. Or not being able to remember what was real." A shrug of his shoulders. "It's idiosyncratic. Other people enjoy it." But then there's a warm smile. "I'm glad she's staying with you. I hope it's going well? No fights over the toothbrushes?" That last bit, though, it makes him go still and watchful, eyes widening. "Oh?"

"Oh come on. How many people have you wantonly murdered? I'm guessing it's like in the low teens, tops." Easton punctuates that 'joke' with a big drink and says, "Being descendant of a monster hardly makes you one. Or is that what you're drinking about? Feeling bummed out that you're not living up to the family legacy?" Alexander may be blunt, but Easton's dark humor and lack of boundaries is more than a match in insensitivity.

The part about why he avoids drinking gets Easton to stop talking for a bit at least. He does raise a glass at the part about other people enjoying it. "No, no fights over toothbrushes." Just mini-spats over Glimmer and caretaking instincts.

"Yea. In the dreams I can see my Uncle and other men in suits digging up the coffin. Opening it to see his body..." He watches to see if this is not a topic that Alexander wants to talk about in light of his lineage. Normally he assumes he'd be all about it. "Then I'm helping lift it out, into a hearse."

Clearly they said her name too many times, and thus summoned Miss Mary Sunshine herself with a rattle of keys at the door. Bennie shoulders in, half stumbling through the door because she's already prying off her work boots, the heavy duty things a necessity when she's on shift down at the station. "You know that part in Gone with the Wind when the hand maid says 'I don't know nothin' bout birthin' no babies?'" Bennie's talking as she hops on one foot, figuring Easton is somewhere in the apartment within ear shot. "Well. Now I do! In practice, instead of just theory." She straightens with a huff of hair out of her face, realizing they aren't alone. "Oh, hi, Alexander!" She greets with a wide smile. Good thing she started with her shoes instead of her work shirt.

"Only one," Alexander says, quietly. "But the Shadows have always told me that I would be good at it. They're not wrong." He just sort of stares at Easton, his expression uncertain, caught between wanting to perhaps laugh along, since his friend thinks it's funny, and wanting to retreat. He doesn't seem bothered by the dream's content, but the awkwardness of the rest of the conversation has him looking to Bennie with outright relief when she arrives. "Hello, Bennie. You've delivered a child?" A pause. "Presumably not your own."

Seeing the response from Alexander it slowly starts to dawn on him the actual cause of the drinking (or at least his perceived reason). He shakes his head and says, "I don't think you'd enjoy it. I've seen people who did." People on both sides of the conflicts that he's been a part of. Not that it's the same thing per say. But he's still sure about his judgement.

"Oh god, if I missed that you were pregnant I'm going to be super embarrassed." He smirks at the thought of not realizing that, and reacting with 'embarrassment' at finding out. "One head, four limbs, twenty digits? Or just another Bat Boy?" His lips twist in a frown and he says, "Oh God, sorry I just realized I would never have a fuckin' kid in this town." He throws that out there, completely off the cuff having just dawned on him how screwed up that would be. But then his head snaps to Bennie to see how she takes that bit of news, a wary look on his face.

One boot goes in this direction, the other goes in that one. But then, it's like Bennie realizes she's being sloppy and polices herself, so she skitters after them and puts them together near the door. "Very much not my own." Bennie confirms. "Someone's cousin was visiting, and popped early. So not doomed to be raised in Gray Harbor. The miracle of life! It was a good day." She straightens up, flipping hair back from her face. "Don't worry, babe. This is a no baby zone." She makes a circling gesture in the vague area of her uterus. "We can't even commit to a dog." She pads on socked feet into the kitchen, pausing to air kiss Alexander's cheek a good three feet away from the man before she goes to explore what's in the pitcher. "So what are we talking about boys, besides our decided lack of reproduction? Alexander tell you about burning alive, yet?"

"I don't enjoy hurting people." Alexander says it with the air of a mantra. Like, please let that be true.

The talk of pregnancy and actual potential babies just sort of takes him by surprise, enough that it startles a laugh out of him. "I'm not sure that two people as attractive as you could ever create a Bat Boy," he assures Easton, solemnly. Then snickers more as Bennie rushes to reassure. His expression lightens, even with the mention of burning alive. "Easton was telling me about dreams he's been having of the unearthing of William's bones. It may provide part of the answer to how to stop the ghost."

"Actually Alexander and I were also talking about not having babies together. We decided it would just complicate things too much and ruin what we have." No, not really. Easton does truthfully point to the pitcher of booze and identify it, "Mint Julep?" Yes, he made an entire pitcher of drinks instead of one. No, he wasn't expecting her per say.

"I know." Easton assures Alexander, even if he understands the tone of trying to convince oneself all too well.

Bennie's no baby zone comment causes a breath that Easton didn't realize he was holding to be exhaled. Sudden cohabitation caused his brain to start freaking out that other conversations might suddenly startup. The comment about a dog gets grunt and nod. He does need to get on that. Once he can walk again.

At the talk of what they've actually been discussing he casts a glance over at Bennie and says, "Turns out my crazy uncle worked at a place that was formerly haunted by Billy's ghost. And may have had something to do with evicting his remains from their cozy grave." The part about burning alive though causes him to shift back to Alexander and asks, "Immolation kink we haven't discussed?"

"Don't mind if I do..." Bennie says to the julep of the mint variety, pouring herself a glass before she comes up to Easton and slings an arm around his neck, giving him a loud and sloppy kiss to his cheek. "Hey babe." She finally greets him and then takes a sip of her drink with a murmured, "Fancy." Before she sets it down and starts breezing towards the master bedroom. "I think Easton's been trying to spare me from his dreams, just like he pretends he's not hurting as much as he is when I'm around, lest I make with the healie healie mojo." Though she doesn't seem insulted by either, just fond. "Keep talking! I'll be right back."

"Actually, Easton was all for a house full of lovely little lunatics, until I told him he'd have to get rid of the guns. Then it's all 'oh, the world is too cruel for children'." Alexander heaves a melodramatic sigh, and tries to look woebegone. It only sort of works because he OFTEN looks woebegone.

"The bones wanted to be buried. I don't know what happens, or would have happened, if we did. What happened after the hearse?" Alexander winces at the mention of the immolation kink. "Not exactly. We divided the skeleton into four groups. Miss Reede burned her bones. When she did, I felt as if I caught fire. And continued to feel that way for every night. It...seems to be improving. Or I damaged major nerves with that alcohol last night. I'll take either."

He nods to Bennie, then waits until she's gone before asking Easton, "Are you trying to spare her?"

As Alexander takes up the tale of their fictional children Easton smirks and takes a drink. He nearly spits said drink out when Alexander mentions getting rid of the guns. But it's in laughter this time, as opposed to outrage normally should people mention such a horrid idea.

"I don't know. I only know that it was my uncle and this 'Carr' ... person. It's like I can remember them, but obviously I've never met them. I just know in the dream that they're the reason the bones are being moved, and I desperately want to stop it but can't." He blinks as Alexander explains what the burning alive is all about he. Sticking to their mutual agreement, Easton just shakes his head and says, "That's awful. I have pain killers if you think it would help?" With magically induced pain? Probably not.

At the question about Bennie, Easton gives a wry laugh. He doesn't even know what the hell he's doing. He gives a defeated half-shrug and says, "I'm just trying to keep my head above water right now." There's a lot of things he's keeping from her and maybe it's to protect her. Maybe it's to keep a sense of independence? Maybe it's because he's always compartmentalized his life. Protecting her seems noble and a part of him would like to claim that. But mostly he comes back to her perception of his motivations and he looks down the hall after her.

Bennie is presumably changing out of her EMT gear. No telling what kind of goo she got on her pants today.

There are many questions Easton doesn't ask about her job. 'What kind of goo is that?' is high on that list.

There's just this flicker of smugness on Alexander's face when Easton spittakes. Like he is just so pleased with himself for making a quip that got the desired reaction, rather than an awkward silence or recoil. But the information makes him frown. "Interesting. Very interesting." A pause. "How would you feel about going Over There? Miss Whitehouse found someone who can open a door over there - she found your uncle's car, and a map that appears to mark several spots on the other side. I was hoping that you and Dr. Glass might go with the opener and find Dr. Marshall's car keys so that we can explore the destinations on the map. And then raid an asylum and save Miss Whitehouse's sister. It will be dangerous, but I feel like you're good with danger."

With that offer given, he lapses back into thought, studying Easton. "I don't give relationship advice. Almost all my relationships have ended in a screaming fight and someone walking out. Very quickly. But it seems like you're lucky to have someone who cares enough to want to be a part of your troubles. You can set boundaries, but you just might want to think about where the best places for those are. For real, as opposed to just what you're afraid of."

"Over There?"

Easton repeats the phrase with a wariness. He doesn't know much about the Veil or anything about it being a place other than what he believes happens when people get lost or enter Dreams. It's all mixed together as the same thing in his head. But he listens as Alexander outlines the plan and says, "I don't know how any of this works, but I'm in. I want to figure out what the hell good ol' Uncle Monty was doing." The 'because I feel responsible for my crazy relatives' is both implied and hopefully the reverse implied as well that he understands Alexander may share that motivation. "Especially if someone is still being held there?" He doesn't know Violet (well technically he's seen her once or twice)

"Yea. Relationships are complicated enough without Dreams and Dark Men. I will.. take that under advisement." Meaning while he knows it's good advice, he's unsure of his ability to walk that out. No walking puns intended.

There's a noise of slight frustration. "I don't know what else to call it. There appears to be a persistent realm of Over There. That isn't all murderous dreams, and which seems to have the same...people? Beings? in it over time. Not just monsters trying to hurt you. We went to a place where there's an Archivist who is all melted-face, but doesn't seem to be evil. It told us of my ancestry, and that the Addingtons were the ones who stopped William last time, and that we should talk to them again to try to stop him this time. Apparently the asylum is the same, in some regards - it might always be there, so people can stay there. Or be imprisoned there, tortured there. And yes, we think so." A hesitation. "Miss Whitehouse has long had a mental connection with her sister, but her sister has stopped communicating. She's alive, but we don't know in what state."

He leans back against the counter, nursing his water and just watching Easton. No more is said about the relationship stuff, but his attention does turn to the pitcher of mint julep, thoughtfully.

Bennie traipses back out of the bedroom having changed into a t-shirt from high school PE with the name J. Oakes markered into the emblem and a pair of cut off jean shorts. She's busy piling her hair on top of her head into a high bun, securing it in place with a pair of take-out chopsticks she's glittered up. "So who is talking who into what out here?" The blonde asks, returning to her Mint Julep and Easton's side.

Easton's brow furrows as he takes in the information that there is basically an Upside Down. No he wouldn't know the reference, but a mirror world. He frowns and says, "Okay." As if he understood even half of what Alexander just described with melting faces and what's an archivist? He takes a big gulp, finishing his first drink and pours himself another without a pause. He is still trying to parse all that when Bennie comes back out. He leans against her when she returns to his side, giving her a soft "hey you." in greeting, realizing he didn't actually greet her when she came in.

"My crazy uncle was possibly torturing mental patients in the place where Dreams occur?" He inaccurately summarizes. "And there might be someone or someones? trapped there. And that might all tie in to what is killing the Addingtons right? Because I'm assuming the Addingtons having put a stop to this shit isn't just a coincidence that people are bumping them like lines of coke."

Alexander smiles at Bennie when she returns. "I'm trying to send your boyfriend over to a hellscape to look for car keys. Sorry." It is apologetic, but not in a way that suggests he's going to retract the information.

He nods to Easton. "That's close enough, yes. William Gohl is killing the Addingtons. Possibly, yes, because they might know how to stop him. Thorne and Miss Reede are arranging appointments to talk with some of the more...accessible ones. I don't think the asylum will help us deal with that problem, but the matter of Miss Whitehouse can't be left, especially while she's not communicating. We don't know what state she's in, or how long she can hold out." He says it like this is all a very rational thing and not talking crazypants.

Bennie lays an arm across the back of Easton's shoulder, crooked so that she can toy with his hair with idle affection while they talk. "I see." The words come out a little flat, but no doubt it's born out of concern for the pair of them, and everyone else involved. A little wrinkle forms on the bridge of her nose, a pensive look playing across her features. "Reede? If this is Gohl, he's not only killing Addingtons. Reede is the name of the last victim that Sutton and I transported. The day of the strip club?" When she told Easton she was having a bad day and had to blow off some steam. "Look. If you guys are seriously going to do this, is there..." Her eyes flick to Easton, "Is there anyone who is going to be with you that can do what I can?"

"Yea. Agreed. We don't fuckin' leave people locked in spooky mental asylums in bizarro world." He is momentarily distracted as Bennie starts to play with his hair, his head tilting so that she can scritch the exact spot he wants. But he comes back to when Bennie starts asking about another murder victim. He shrugs and looks to Alexander for an answer on that one. He catches the look and translate, "Heal people. Or crack bones." Not that Bennie is one to use her powers offensively except for that once that Easton knows of, he adds it in case it helps Alexander.

"I'm confused about the car keys bit though. Why does that matter?"

Alexander nods, firmly. "A sentiment I can agree with." To Bennie, he says, "I'm not sure. I don't think so - I've never been clear on Dr. Glass' abilities, if she has any. I mean, those sorts abilities, not like...skills. I'm sure she's very skilled. I mean, I know she's very skilled." He stops, takes a breath. "Nevermind. But I don't know that we have a healer. I also don't know if there's a limit to how many people can go. I'll have to talk with the person who can open the door, I think."

To Easton's very good question, he can only shrug. "I'm not sure. I'm operating off of third hand information. But the keys seem to be important, and we'll need to use the car to explore the map. I'll be honest," he grimaces at them both, "I've only ever seen horrific things from the lost places until very recently. The idea of choosing to go over there...it's against every bit of survival instinct I've ever had. Exploring that place is outside of my knowledge base. I just know how to kill things, really. And stay alive."

Bennie uses the taper of her fingernails to scratch where Easton directs, though it's in a distracted sort of manner while she's busy making up her mind about something. "If I can't go through, then you can trust that I'll be sitting right there on this side, waiting for all of you to come back. And if either of you intend to give me shit about ...healing," Bennie still isn't used to what she's capable of, much less talking about it so freely, "...whatever damage is done, I will invent new and colorful ways of telling you to stuff it while I do it anyways. Are we all in agreement on that?" Her eyebrows crest upwards into new mountain ranges of 'you going to dare argue'?

Easton nods and takes in the fact that he and his therapist are going to possibly rescue people from a loonie bin in a magical realm, or retrieve some car keys? He frowns and admits, "I uh.." He hrmms and looks at Bennie, "I've had a sense. Like I could maybe, reach through? But only in certain spots, it's weird. I thought it meant I was about to slip or end up in a Dream." He frowns and then loses that trail of thought as Bennie pipes up.

"Babe. I'm going to need you to heal me before I go. I can't do it on fuckin' crutches." He then adds with a smile, "And if something over there decided I look like a tasty snack, then yes, by all means I'm hoping you put those missing chunks back please." No. He's not going to dare argue. Because her healing him has never been his issue. Man they need to talk better.

"I don't particularly like the healing," Alexander admits, quietly. "It's not you. Not any of you. But that doesn't mean I'll refuse it," he says. And offers her a brief nod. Then glances over to Easton, thoughtful. "Perhaps you should try. Not. Not recklessly. Not without backup. But maybe you should try. There are still people who disappeared into Dreams that we don't know may still be alive. Mister Gilford's mother, for example. If this goes well..." he doesn't say it, but the hope can be read in his posture, the straightening of his shoulders - the hope that some of the lost might be found and returned back to their families, and the real world.

"So you might be able to make these doors yourself?" Bennie asks Easton, trying to get a grasp on this new development and the fact there is just this whole other realm instead of just some twisting happening to their own. "Wait, what. I can heal you?" There is a sudden energetic squeal from Bennie as Easton says he can't do this on crutches. "Amazing, because I need to practice. I accidentally set something on fire the other day, I think? And I don't want that to happen in the ambulance if I'm trying to save someone. You know, oxygen and all. And so...well, just don't burn." Wait, what? "As far as I'm concerned, Alexander..." She's talking to the other man as she steps around Easton and lays her hand on his injured leg at the thigh. "If you don't have an advanced directive, you're going to get healed whether you like it or not if you're unconscious. Soooooo..."

"I don't know. I didn't know it was a thing until now?" Easton isn't sure, but it's been something he's felt and brushed off a few times. At the part about her needing practice he turns and gives her a WTF? look. "You about slapped me upside the head for practicing." Yes, he thought she was anti-glimmer, hence not asking for healing. At her placing her hands on his leg as she mentions things catching fire his hands raise and he's about to ask her to slow down but then he can feel the rush of warmth coursing through his leg and he leans back.

"Wow. Okay."

He smiles at her and says, "Thank you, that was .. great. I think?" He unpins his pant leg and examines the stump, the skin all healed nicely now and he can flex it easily.

Alexander can't help it; he chuckles under his breath at Bennie's squeal and enthusiasm. He drains the rest of his water, turns to rinse out the glass and put it neatly in the sink. "If I'm unconscious, you certainly can heal me, Bennie. Just stand out of the way if I wake up, ah, disoriented. I've had poor experiences with healers, in the past." His body stays turned away from them for a moment longer, before Easton's 'wow', and he can't resist a peek. "You're very skilled," he says, with a nod to Bennie. "And she's not wrong. About practicing. It can attract attention if you do too much at a time. But," another look towards Bennie, "it's also dangerous not to be able to control what we can do. Practice is required."

"There is a difference between practicing, and picking up my fork for me, sweets." Bennie points out with a smile that's renewed to its full glory as he unpins his pants and examines the results, the blonde bending to quickly kiss his knee before he can cover it back up. "By the way, I was doing some research on something. Remind me to talk to you later about it?" She asks Easton before she erupts in a happy little yay, complete with bouncing and clapping as it worked, and nothing is on fire, carrying that enthusiasm into her responding to Alexander. "I promise, I won't hold it against you if you wake up and give me a black eye. As long as you're safe." Then as an aside to Easton about Alexander. "I'm fond of this one." Then, "..oh my god are those donuts?!" Eclairs, but close enough. Bennie recognizes the type of bag from Sutton's raids on the PD.

The comment about grabbing a fork not being practice causes a small smile to cross Easton's lips. "The rice. The rice was the practice." Pulling all the little grains out of the carpet at once and manipulating them through the air is something he's been trying to work on. "I'm going to go put my leg on.." Easton stands and grabs the crutches, and makes his way off to the bedroom.

"You may be okay with it, but I'm not," Alexander tells Bennie, dryly. He looks intrigued by the talk of rice and practice, but nods to Easton as the man makes his way out. He follows him with his eyes, expression thoughtful, with that blankness he gets when he's concentrating on something.

"He says it's the rice." Bennie tattles on Easton the moment she hears the door the bedroom closed. "But fetching beer from the fridge? We seem to have the worst combined dreams the more frivolous our actions are." She clucks her tongue as she unrolls the top of the bag that Alexander brought in offering. "So, I showed you mine, are you going to show me yours? Or at least tell me, I mean. What brand of shiny happy people are you, Alexander. Inquiring Bennies want to know."

Alexander looks startled at the mention. "That seems...a little petty. To be using superpowers for." A pause. "But then, I use them to keep my flowers healthy, sometimes, so I can't complain." The question makes him grimace a little. "I told you. Last night. I can heal a little - just a little, and it doesn't always work. But mostly I get inside people's heads. I can read emotions. I can push people in certain ways. Or create illusions." He looks down. "Most people don't particularly like the things I can do."

Bennie's head tilts slightly, an eclair half way to her mouth where it pauses. "I didn't think you meant...actually. Like. In people's heads. So does that mean you can create ...happy illusions? Because that doesn't sound so horrible. Is this like where Easton can ...talk to me without actually verbalizing a single word? Okay, read my emotions right now. What am I feeling Alexander. Oh wait, you know, maybe this is why you were so good at helping me that day in the park. You totally cheated. You know, you're the reason that Easton and I got back together. Well, rather, what prompted me to text him which lead to our making up."

"I can't read thoughts. Or information. Like," Alexander starts to pace, his shoulders a little defensive. "I'll never be able to pull out your PIN number for the bank, or your secrets. Mostly not your secrets. But I can pick up on emotions, which can often be very revealing." His expression turns bleak for a moment. "It's easy for me to know who's beating their wife, or their kid, or who secretly hates the person they work with, or who wants to kill themselves." A breath. "I can talk to other people who have the same kind of abilities I do. You might have some of it, if Easton can speak with you. But I didn't read you in the park. I try not to read people without their permission." But since she's given it..

He turns and fixes her with a near-black stare, two fingers coming to his temple. He strokes the skin there, then says, flatly. "You're unusually happy and alert, on top of a lot of underlying stress. If I had to guess, I'd say you were self-medicating with something to avoid dealing with whatever is causing the stress." There's no condemnation in it, just providing the information she asked for.

Bennie opens up her mouth, about to deny everything, but he's so close to the mark there's no sense in refuting most of it. Finally, she settles on, "I have a prescription." Which she comes with a wry twist of her lips before she sucks a bit of chocolate off her thumb from the eclair. "People tend to notice when I'm not happy, not the other way around, though. Like the park. That was a particularly rough day, so thank you for making it better. And here you probably thought you were just buying a tired girl a soda. Now I wish I could help you. You know, Easton can do this thing where he makes me feel at ease? Maybe something like that could help keep your lineage linkage at bay?"

Alexander lifts his shoulders in a shrug to the news of the prescription. "There's certain types of happiness that are...normal? Normal isn't the right word. But within the parameters I expect from human emotion. Others are unusually elevated. It usually means pharmeceutical aid. Or a manic episode. And you don't seem to have the other symptoms." He smiles. "I'm glad it helped. You were kind, and you deserve kindness in return. And...it might. But I'm," he laughs, "I'm strong enough that it's hard to lower my defense to let other people push me one way or the other. And I don't trust a lot of people to start mucking around in my brain. It's crazy enough already."

Bennie just sort of glosses over all the nonsense about herself - even though she asked him to take a read of her - and instead concentrates on him. "Well, we'll just have to make you feel better the good old fashioned way. I'll be an ear when ever you need it, or make you a cup of tea, or get drunk on the beach and make you dance with me. And of course we can always get you laid, that cures a lot of ills. I happen to make an excellent wing woman. And I'm sure Easton's not half bad at it either."

"I--" It's pretty easy to see that Alexander was about to reject the offer by instinct, but he stops himself. One hand runs through his hair, putting it into disarray. Or more disarray. "I'll think about it, Bennie. It's nice to have friends." A soft smile. "I really do appreciate it. Not that getting laid is one of my priorities at the moment, but it's nice to know that I can call upon aid if that changes. And tea would be nice." He stops pacing, then, and glances towards the door. "I should be going, though. I've taken up enough of your and Easton's time, and I'm sure you can think of better ways to spend it."

Bennie reaches out her hand on the island counter, fingers tapping twice on the smooth surface in some form of reassuring touch that never actually connects with the man himself. Her words are earnest and heartfelt, toned down a few degrees from her blinding chipperness to something softer and more sincere. "And I'm very glad to be yours, Alexander." Friends, that is. Then her grin splits wide again, "You're not taking up time, though as soon as you do leave, I'm going to go ravish my boyfriend now that his leg is feeling better. Gotta celebrate my good day, right? Thanks for coming over, something was eating at Easton so I'm glad you got him talking."

"He needed to talk," Alexander says, with a shrug. "When crazy things are happening, sometimes it's easier to confide in someone who's seen...a lot of them." He smiles at the double tap on the surface and heads towards the door. "Don't die, Bennie. Or let Easton die." And that's his form of goodbye, it seems, as he lets himself out.