2019-08-31 - Ghosting

The two new patio chairs are setup facing one another on the small living room balcony. There is enough room to get into the chairs and still fit the little cafe table between them. In one, Easton sits, wearing a loose fitting tank top over a pair of mesh lacrosse shorts. He has his prosthesis off, his stump tucked up under his other leg.

"Mac's weird third nipple under his arm."

Tom grins and gives a big two thumbs up, enthusiastically. He's 'seated' in the other chair facing Easton. A lit cigarette 'hangs' in his mouth, despite the fact that he can't smoke it.

Easton's smile slowly fades as a look of concentration falls over his face. A clench of his teeth and the cigarette drops to the ground. Banks blinks in surprise and tries to pull it back up, needing to use Easton's glimmer to interact with anything in the physical world. Finally Easton lets him pull it back up, a small smile on his face.

Gunner, the puppy meanwhile dances around Tom's chair alternatively sniffing and barking, apparently aware of something but unsure what it means. Easton calls him over to rub his head, grinning as he explains, "That's Tom. You're right, he's creepy as fuck."

Tom flips him off in response but wears a big smile in response. Tom then signs to Easton to move ahead. It's a combat signs, something they've resorted to since Tom's voice has never been reliable and normally they limit the amount of Glimmer that Easton expends. But today is different. There are important questions to answer. Because people are dying and a ghost is to blame.

Easton sticks his cigarette in his mouth and makes a universal 'bring it on' gesture with both his hands. Tom's cigarette floats down to the ashtray to put itself out. As Tom approaches, Easton blows him a flirty kiss and Tom lifts a leg as if he's about to straddle Easton for a weird ghost lap dance or something but instead turns and sits in the same space as Easton. How is possession supposed to work? The two men close their eyes and unknowingly have matching skeptical furrowed brows as they wait to see if this works.

"Nothing?"

Easton finally breaks the silence and Banks stands up to thrust his crotch at his face which gets the desired wince and call of "Oh fuck off!" from Easton as he tries to push away at the non-corporeal form of his former best friend. Tom makes his way back to his seat and shrugs at Easton as if to say he's not sure if they did it wrong or it's just not possible? Easton answers with a mirrored shrug.

"Alright, one last thing left to try. Alexander said something about people being able to read feelings."

This is how emotionally closed off Easton is, he still hasn't realized that he can sense other people's emotions. He has his own in such a strangle hold of keeping it together that he's automatically blocked this entire function out. Alexander made it sound like something he should have already known, or of course he would know if he could sense Tom's emotions. Receiving a sent thought was fine, but Easton know focuses on what Tom is feeling.

The sensation is exactly like realizing your jaw is clenched and making yourself unclench. A slow slipping sensation as the tightness is released.

Easton's breath catches in his throat with a sharp inhale.

And all at once his chest tightens in a painful and all too familiar tension. A crushing sense of what is missing and a desire to have it back. Without his usual determination to keep things on lock down, he's awash in the keen, sharp awareness of how much he misses his life. Tom's desire to hold his wife and child. His desire to live, to lead Marines and be a part of the brotherhood. Easton's own loss of the same life and purpose and friendship is let loose like a torrent to course through him. Carefully built mental channels are flooded, overwhelmed with long delayed emotion.

Tom for his part seems horrified and confused to suddenly be sharing all of this and stands up shaking his head, yelling something at Easton that can't be heard. Finally he just ceases to be there.

Leaving Easton alone, gasping for air as he tries to sort out his own feelings from Tom's from the weird mix of the two. He tries to steady his breathing, tries to stop the wracking sobs that make it hard to even get enough oxygen in the first place. He coughs, spitting the forgotten cigarette to the ground as he tries to get ahold of himself but all he can do is sob.

He knows the last time he broke down like this, in a port a potty in Iraq about a week after he lost his first Marine. The feeling is exactly the same and for a second he swears it smells just as bad. And he does now the same thing he did then, he just lets it out. It's not good trying to stop this, it's like a panic attack, he just lets the grief and loss ripple through his body.

Eventually he comes back to himself and is able to breath, to start coming back to grips with his current reality.

"Okay. So emotions. Check."