( That hand on his — it earns Jaskier a longer look, lingering, steady and assessing. He's a tactile guy, he's bad at words, bad at communicating how he feels and what he means with speech alone, sometimes. The touch means a lot, and he tries to express that with little knit in his brow and a pained but appreciative smile.
They've all lost a lot, he gets that. Not just recently, but... who they are, all of them, as people — the type they Summon, it seems, are people accustomed to loss. They share that in common — and if they didn't before the summoning, they all certainly get with the program after, as people disappear. )
Yeah, I... I wish that a lot. I think Cas would, too. I haven't told him, I was- kind of hoping to surprise him with it, but... yeah. Whenever you've got the time, I can show you something.
( It won't be a terribly long memory, whenever Jaskier gets around to it, but it will be an intense one. Jo's last one. He'll share it, the thing that's weighing the most heavy on his heart about her leaving this second chance at life. What she's going home to.
He was so much younger. It was so long ago, but now that she's gone... it feels fresh all over again.
He catches Jaskier's hand before it pulls away; gives it one gentle squeeze in turn. )
Thank you. It- this, it means a lot, so. Thank you. Seriously.
[When he does see the memory, it is a rather horrible one. When he meant "it needn't be private," he was a bit hoping it wouldn't be. There is nothing to absorb from the final moments of a person's life beyond the tragedy of it. But she is not the first he has seen die, either.
What he can take from it is that it is a hero's death.
But that will come with time, as he mulls over it, deciding what to write. Now he only pats Dean's hand before pulling back. He can read the expression well enough. Jaskier suspects if he told the man he hardly needs to turn in the ticket for this, Dean would insist.
It is far too close to what Geralt's told him. The fate he may meet if he were to disappear, too.
He means to pull away before the moment is too long, too intimate, but Dean stops him. He smiles. Gods, he should hope no one would ever be so cruel to turn him down, but it's as if Dean was expecting it.] Thank me once you've heard it. You can tell me if it's good enough to honour her memory.
( There are likely better memories he could've picked; ones that Jo would have preferred he show. It's just that his mind's only in one place, it keeps going back to this one thing — that she's gone. That she went home to her death. It feels, in some ways, like he's failed her twice. Like she's died twice, and both times he could've done more, somehow, to prevent it.
But he didn't, and she's gone. And here they are. The end.
The smile he echoes back is smaller, but sincere. Appreciative — but he won't hammer in the gratitude. He's already said it enough for now. )
Hey- man, I've got every faith in you. I've heard your stuff. You're like the Bowie of Abraxas, it'll be great.
( He forces a little chipperness into his tone, a little lightness so the mood's not quite so glum. On that note, he scoops his fork up again, and shovels in another crappy-table-manners sized bite. He wasn't kidding about eating a disgusting amount — he'll fully sit here and plow through at least two bowls before he gets out of Jaskier's hair. )
[Despite the situation, the sound that comes from him is definitely a laugh. Perhaps of disbelief -- perhaps of flattery, even. Perhaps only to lift the mood.]
I assume that's a compliment.
[They both turn to that immediately; a moment of humour, something to alleviate the weight of a life loss. They didn't mingle much, but he does not need to know her well to have seen the affect of her upon them, or her loss.
He wishes he could say time heals these things, because it never does. Not fully. There are scars. And to have lost someone, and gained them again, only for more loss -- what will time ever do to that?]
You know, if you're happy with it, there's plenty more you can take back for your home. Enough to share, even, if you think you can manage.
It's a huge compliment. Remind me to introduce you to Bowie sometime. I think you'd like him.
( He lingers, only a little longer. Long enough to eat. Long enough to keep Jaskier some company, and put a dent in his pierogi and ravioli supply. And yeah, since offered, Dean will totally take some back home with him, because he's not shy about stanning someone else's cooking.
Before he leaves, he gives Jaskier's shoulder one final gentle grip, a silent thank you, and- )
Hey, if you need anything... I know we're not, you know. ( Close, exactly, but. Still. He means this with his whole heart: ) You know where to find me. Any time.
( And when he leaves, it's with a sad smile but a little bit of relief in the grief he's still carrying in his chest. )
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cointosser) wrote2021-04-12 08:58 pm
no subject
They've all lost a lot, he gets that. Not just recently, but... who they are, all of them, as people — the type they Summon, it seems, are people accustomed to loss. They share that in common — and if they didn't before the summoning, they all certainly get with the program after, as people disappear. )
Yeah, I... I wish that a lot. I think Cas would, too. I haven't told him, I was- kind of hoping to surprise him with it, but... yeah. Whenever you've got the time, I can show you something.
( It won't be a terribly long memory, whenever Jaskier gets around to it, but it will be an intense one. Jo's last one. He'll share it, the thing that's weighing the most heavy on his heart about her leaving this second chance at life. What she's going home to.
He was so much younger. It was so long ago, but now that she's gone... it feels fresh all over again.
He catches Jaskier's hand before it pulls away; gives it one gentle squeeze in turn. )
Thank you. It- this, it means a lot, so. Thank you. Seriously.
no subject
What he can take from it is that it is a hero's death.
But that will come with time, as he mulls over it, deciding what to write. Now he only pats Dean's hand before pulling back. He can read the expression well enough. Jaskier suspects if he told the man he hardly needs to turn in the ticket for this, Dean would insist.
It is far too close to what Geralt's told him. The fate he may meet if he were to disappear, too.
He means to pull away before the moment is too long, too intimate, but Dean stops him. He smiles. Gods, he should hope no one would ever be so cruel to turn him down, but it's as if Dean was expecting it.] Thank me once you've heard it. You can tell me if it's good enough to honour her memory.
no subject
But he didn't, and she's gone. And here they are. The end.
The smile he echoes back is smaller, but sincere. Appreciative — but he won't hammer in the gratitude. He's already said it enough for now. )
Hey- man, I've got every faith in you. I've heard your stuff. You're like the Bowie of Abraxas, it'll be great.
( He forces a little chipperness into his tone, a little lightness so the mood's not quite so glum. On that note, he scoops his fork up again, and shovels in another crappy-table-manners sized bite. He wasn't kidding about eating a disgusting amount — he'll fully sit here and plow through at least two bowls before he gets out of Jaskier's hair. )
no subject
I assume that's a compliment.
[They both turn to that immediately; a moment of humour, something to alleviate the weight of a life loss. They didn't mingle much, but he does not need to know her well to have seen the affect of her upon them, or her loss.
He wishes he could say time heals these things, because it never does. Not fully. There are scars. And to have lost someone, and gained them again, only for more loss -- what will time ever do to that?]
You know, if you're happy with it, there's plenty more you can take back for your home. Enough to share, even, if you think you can manage.
wrapping; thank you for this gift!!
( He lingers, only a little longer. Long enough to eat. Long enough to keep Jaskier some company, and put a dent in his pierogi and ravioli supply. And yeah, since offered, Dean will totally take some back home with him, because he's not shy about stanning someone else's cooking.
Before he leaves, he gives Jaskier's shoulder one final gentle grip, a silent thank you, and- )
Hey, if you need anything... I know we're not, you know. ( Close, exactly, but. Still. He means this with his whole heart: ) You know where to find me. Any time.
( And when he leaves, it's with a sad smile but a little bit of relief in the grief he's still carrying in his chest. )