[ He's not going to insult K's intelligence by pretending he's okay. Crest-fallen isn't quite his expression, but he's missing his usual spark of vitality. ]
No. 'm not.
[ Which is something for him to deal with because everybody else around him has their own shit to worry about.
[He says it dismissively, with finality, like the subject is absolutely closed - unworthy of attention just now.
V was not only confined to one space - imprisoned himself - but who knows what happened to him there. K has already forgotten about anything that happened to him during the same timeframe. He doesn't like anything at all about what he's looking at now.]
Your contract deadline is up tomorrow. Do you have one?
[ Usually V'd gently prod an 'I'm fine' statement, explore whether that's really true or not. But the tone catches him off guard for a moment, and then there's the question about his contract date.
Truth is he'd forgotten about it with time twisting up the way it had. ]
Uh-- no. I don't.
[ The idea of going to jail should be so deeply disturbing to him his skin should be crawling. And yet... he's so tired mentally, physically. He's not sure he has it in him to run, or to fight. ]
[The thing is, K saw how much the prison upset V firsthand, when it wasn't even him who would have to stay behind in the cell. K tends to have stronger reactions to others suffering in his stead, it's true, but he remembers the deep, claustrophobic almost horror of it, the skincrawling need to be gone with its hooks just under V's skin an arm length in front of him.
He sees none of it now. What he does see is some kind of hurt, core deep and possibly essential. What he sees is someone knocked so far off himself he's almost a different person.
Someone who just got out of a cell of one kind, and does not need to go into another. He swallows, but it's an easy choice.]
Do you still have a copy of the contract you showed me?
[ It takes a moment longer than it usually would for V to catch up with where he thinks this might be headed. And even then it's a few beats longer of his remembering K's reasoning behind not signing.
[Most people in Duplicity know K as someone who could be mistaken as timid, who is quiet, who is unassuming. He's content to stand back and hold his tongue, to be obedient, because he's not an officer here. He has no authority here at all, not even an illusion of it.
But that's what he was made for, and once he's made up his mind, he's plenty capable of being assertive.]
Find the contract. If you still want it, sign it and send it over.
[Sometimes things you want to be aren't simple like you'd want 'em.]
[ He'd been guessing at the direction of the conversation and still it takes him by surprise. A flutter of surprise shining through the gloom. It's a relief and that's been in short supply lately. A relief because K should never have been in jail.
Outwardly the corners of V's optics prick with tears he's still able to produce. They don't fall but he does have to drop his head for a moment to gingerly dab them away. ]
[If there was a chance K would back out before now, that completely evaporates the moment he sees that.
He reminds himself of V's voice that first day in the visitation room, sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do 'n make the consequences as bearable as possible. These consequences are no longer bearable.
Time for a new limit, somehow, some way:]
Someone told me I should pick my battles alongside people who care about me and do what they can to have my back.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
No. 'm not.
[ Which is something for him to deal with because everybody else around him has their own shit to worry about.
Like K and jail. ]
They been treatin' ya okay in there?
no subject
[He says it dismissively, with finality, like the subject is absolutely closed - unworthy of attention just now.
V was not only confined to one space - imprisoned himself - but who knows what happened to him there. K has already forgotten about anything that happened to him during the same timeframe. He doesn't like anything at all about what he's looking at now.]
Your contract deadline is up tomorrow. Do you have one?
no subject
Truth is he'd forgotten about it with time twisting up the way it had. ]
Uh-- no. I don't.
[ The idea of going to jail should be so deeply disturbing to him his skin should be crawling. And yet... he's so tired mentally, physically. He's not sure he has it in him to run, or to fight. ]
no subject
He sees none of it now. What he does see is some kind of hurt, core deep and possibly essential. What he sees is someone knocked so far off himself he's almost a different person.
Someone who just got out of a cell of one kind, and does not need to go into another. He swallows, but it's an easy choice.]
Do you still have a copy of the contract you showed me?
no subject
So, when he speaks again, he sounds uncertain. ]
Uh, yeah. I didn't... it's here. Somewhere.
...why? Are you..?
no subject
But that's what he was made for, and once he's made up his mind, he's plenty capable of being assertive.]
Find the contract. If you still want it, sign it and send it over.
[Sometimes things you want to be aren't simple like you'd want 'em.]
no subject
Outwardly the corners of V's optics prick with tears he's still able to produce. They don't fall but he does have to drop his head for a moment to gingerly dab them away. ]
Yeah, I do want that. ...but do you?
no subject
He reminds himself of V's voice that first day in the visitation room, sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do 'n make the consequences as bearable as possible. These consequences are no longer bearable.
Time for a new limit, somehow, some way:]
Someone told me I should pick my battles alongside people who care about me and do what they can to have my back.
Same goes for you.