myownface | MCA #4, Saturday Morning

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MCA #4, Saturday Morning

Deep breath. Exhale.

...

Deep breath.

...

Exhale.

Dial.

Deep breath.

And hit send.

Sparkle had a call to make today. One he'd been putting off since forever, and his last excuse had run out. The island was back to normal. He didn't have to worry about The Big Stuff being completely derailed because he woke up one morning underwater or he couldn't leave the house because there were dinosaurs or on account of nightmarish penance zombies. Dr. Lecter had given him the number to phone, and yeah, he knew it was Saturday and yeah he knew it was early, but he was kind of hoping he could just leave a message and wait for a phone call back on... Tuesday. Because long weekend! See? Smart. Sparkle was super smart. It wasn't procrastinating if there was Labour Day to contend with.

Somebody actually answered the phone.

"Um."

That wasn't supposed to happen.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

"Hi, uh. My name is Sparkle," and ugh, he felt like he wanted to vomit just spitting out his last name, too, but he kind of had to in this case. "Dr. Lecter suggested I call you. Yeah. Dr. Hannibal Lecter. He said you're probably the best lawyer for... a couple of cases I have, I guess. Yeah. Yeah, I can talk right now, sure. So..."

It was not a short phone call.

Dr. Lecter had picked a good lawyer for the job, for sure.

But by the time Sparkle had hung up the phone again, he was looking a little green. That was fine. This was fine. It was all going to go super well, and...

If anybody needed him, he was going to just be burying his face in a pillow and screaming himself hoarse.

Sparkle Vs. The Criminal Justice System was off to an excellent start.

[OOC: Open! Probably not happy! But open! TW: Both threads contain some talk of child abuse/grooming.]

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"Space," Atton groaned theatrically. "Come on, Sparks, you wouldn't even bruise somebody's cheek with a hook like that. Give me something that'll actually break a nose, will you?"

Sparkle stuck his tongue out at that. Which was such a stupid thing to do, such a little nothing gesture, was at least fifty percent just going through the motions because that was a Sparkle thing to do. And he had to cling to the Sparkle things, because he had no idea how much of the next little while was going to be 'Sparkle' and how much was going to be 'sad lump.'

He suspected nobody was going to be a huge fan of whatever ratio that came out to be. And so, for now, Sparkle was gonna Sparkle. And square his shoulders and take a proper stance and actually punch the damn pillow. A real punch, because god knew he wasn't going to hurt Atton of all people and especially not through a pillow. So, a punch. A damn good punch, a 'this pillow might actually be Lewis' face' sort of punch, followed by another one. A harder one. And a third, alternating from left to right and finding his way into a rhythm.

"I've never," and a punch, "had trouble," and another, "breaking anybody's," punch, "fucking nose!"

Noses were easy.

"Well, not when you actually punch like you mean it like that," Atton said, glad that the pillow was hiding his grin. No reason for Sparkle to know he was relieved, or anything. "Space, Sparks."

"I know what I'm doing, punching," Sparkle bitched, and threw another one at the pillow for good measure. "I broke Dave's tooth back in Toronto once because he stole my socks, you know. My yellow ones."

And there he was, breaking Dave's tooth in effigy all over again.

"And other shit, too," he complained. "When those psycho creeps were overrunning the island they killed Alec and I took them down, that was me, you know? I can do this, I can throw a fucking punch I can shoot an asshole if he's going to kill me I'm not--" And another punch. "I'm not helpless and..." Another punch. "I can't... can't afford to be anything but."

The punching slowed. His hands fell to his sides.

"I'm gonna have to be the victim again, Atton," he said, a little more quietly. "And I hate that."

Atton sighed, lowering the pillow. "I know," he said.

Space knew he'd spent a lifetime making horrible decisions to avoid being just that.

"Do we know how long and how often they'll expect you to be up there, looking the part?"

Sparkle shook his head a little.

"Not yet," he replied. "My lawyer needs to look into some stuff, and it could be... could be, like, ugly shit. Could go as far back as my folks and that's all I want to say about that because I already had one good puke thinking about the chances of that," he muttered. "Because Lew is never going to admit he did something fucked-up and he's going to fight back and..."

He sank into the couch, reaching up to scrub his hands over his face for a moment.

"I mean," he added, "if I hadn't jumped bail, this might even be easier. But I did. For like four years. So they're gonna want to be able to keep tabs on me. I might be spending a lot of time in Toronto through this, for however long it drags on."

Atton tossed the pillow onto the spare chair and sat down on the couch, too. He expelled another breath.

"Toronto, huh."

"S'where it all went down, yeah," Sparkle agreed, fidgeting for a moment. "Playing 'illegal alien' in America for a few years and even running a business here, like... I can't let that be something they find out. I can't lose everything I built here."

A pause.

"And I can't run again. And they'll be afraid I will. And it might come to locking me up because I fucked up bad on bail but if I can swing house arrest, I'm gonna. The lawyer agrees that after Lew outed me in public I have a really good case for avoiding going behind bars at least until my own verdict."

Which was good. Because 'behind bars' would lead to Sparkle just sitting himself in a corner and starting to scream until he passed out.

"Better not be going behind bars after it, either," Atton said. "What have I told you about being in jail?"

It wasn't fun! Atton would know!

"That you'd make sure it didn't stick?"

Sparkle would also know! Just... not with proper adult prison as an adult human person. And he really didn't want to find out.

But he was kind of clinging to that other bit.

A lot.

"I mean, I was shooting for 'avoid it, it's not fun, and you can take it from me'," Atton said, after a pause, "But yeah, that one, too. We'll figure something out. Earth tech is easy. No karking force cages."

Sparkle nodded a little.

"Okay. Okay, good."

This was going to suck. It was going to suck so hard. But at worst, he'd break even this way. Maybe. Kind of.

He hated this.

Atton blew out a long breath.

"Last chance to get out of it if you want to," he said after a moment, quieter.

"I know," Sparkle said, looking at his knees. He pulled in a slow breath. "I want my life back."

And this was the best way to do it.

"I know," Atton said.

It wasn't what he would've done. But what he would've done was-- probably not the thing anybody should do.

"And I'm gonna have your back for as long as you need me to."

"Thanks, man."

Sparkle nodded a little, processing that in silence before blowing out a soft laugh and turning a wry smile up at him.

"I'm gonna be a fucking mess," he noted.

In case there was really any question about that.

"What else is new?" Atton said dryly. "Just don't let me catch you scrubbing my room, because I've only just gotten the bleach fumes out from last time."

Gross exaggeration, but well, Atton.

Well, that got a soft chuff of a laugh out of Sparkle, at least.

"That's fine," he replied, "it's been a while since I could see my reflection in the bathroom floor, anyway. I'll totally make do with that, instead."

"Or even better, call me instead, I'll get you drunk and we can spend an afternoon rooting for one of those glassblowers on Netflix to inhale," Atton said.

Ah, screw it. He was reaching to give Sparkle that hug, now.

And there went Sparkle, kind of oozing into that hug. Wasn't gonna cry. Wasn't gonna. But was definitely going to latch on for dear life.

"I'm gonna be such a fucking disaster until this is over," he muttered, clinging on. "So, like, sorry in advance for that."

He was gonna pack every stupid onesie he owned.

"Yeah, yeah, your threats don't scare me," Atton muttered, rubbing soothingly at his shoulder. "I know you. You don't have the stones to go full pathetic."

Sparkle grumbled something that wasn't even attempting to be coherent as he thumped his forehead against Atton's shoulder.

"You say that now, but just wait until I've worked through like three pints of ice cream in an afternoon and haven't shaved in a week."

... No, he'd shave. The stubble would drive him right up a post.

"Oh space," Atton said, pulling a face. "I've seen you with facial hair, and you can't pull it off. I'll shave it off in the middle of the night for everyone's sake, don't think that I won't!"

If you grew it, you had to respect it, Sparkle! ... Like Atton, who put a dumb amount of work he would never admit to anyone to maintaining just right amount of scruff.

"See, now I'm almost tempted to try just to see if you'll make good on that threat," Sparkle said, and was smiling a little as he leaned back again. "Atton Rand, stealth-shaver."

"I've stealth-done a lot in my life, I'll have you know," Atton grumbled.

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