K is about to tell him that he signed because Jesus trusts him, because K can see that he does - that he cares for him, that he feels safe with him. Yes, Jesus asked him and yes, Jesus promised K wouldn't be alone with whatever happened, but there are other thing that went unsaid.
And he has to do something. He has to sign with someone. He has to avoid prison again somehow, and he has to start believing what everyone he trusts is telling him sometime.
He doesn't get that far. He doesn't stiffen, not really, but every last bit of movement in his frame right down to his breathing slows to a stop and he stays motionless for three, four, five seconds after Drake is done talking.
Then, quietly, his eyes on the grass he asks, "What happened?"
There it is. Drake sighs unhappily at the question, because he knew it was coming and he doesn't have a good answer. It'd be easy to tell K to just go ask Jesus, but that's not fair to either of them. And it's not him.
"I think he got scared. Not of me exactly, just--" he shakes his head, hesitating. Uncertain for a moment how much he should say that's his opinion versus what Jesus actually told him. "A couple nights ago he said he loved me, today he was saying he needs to find somebody he doesn't. To make sure we're safe? Maybe it'll make more sense when he explains it to you, I was... really caught off guard."
K doesn't start moving again - not really, not anymore than he tensed when he stopped. But something shifts at the corners of his eyes, something softens and saddens, and then he breathes in and tucks it safely away behind the kind of bland expression that kept him the safest back home.
"He struggles with that," K says simply. Softly. Jesus has never said as much of course, but K sees more than people want him to see. K saw the hesitation every time Jesus was feeling too much pleasure and had time to think about it; every time he tried to tell K anything important, which sometimes he overcame and sometimes he didn't.
He always knew. He'd started to trust what he was being told more than what he knew, what he saw, because after all he can't actually read minds - only the strongest emotion in the moment, and maybe, maybe -
"...I know he does. What I don't know is why I thought I could be enough for him to stay anyway. I thought he was happy."
Drake sniffs and shifts his weight, pulling a rope toy out of the bag on his shoulder and offering it to the dogs to play with -- they're wrestling well so far, but he can tell that Sable is getting unhappy with Mango's tiny puppy needle teeth nipping at her ears. Once they start playing tug with that instead he straightens back up and looks at K again, sounding a little more composed.
"Maybe he'll change his mind," he muses, though there's not actually any hope in it. Just wishful thinking. "Worst thing I coulda done was hold on, you know? Make him feel guilted or trapped. But obviously it affects you too."
K doesn't know that for a fact, of course; he has no idea what Drake and Jesus talked about, besides him. But he knows what Jesus told him and he knows what he looked like when he said it, knows he believed it. Knows he wanted so badly for K to believe it - badly enough that K did.
He doesn't bother feeling stupid; he verified everything he heard, just like he was created to do, just like he was supposed to because what he learned with his Voight-Kampff mod was not just who was a replicant and who was human. He learned that humans lie all the time, and most of all to themselves.
Nothing Drake says requires a response. K watches the dogs playing, and doesn't answer.
Neither of them can really know it, but that's just how relationships go. Even for actual psychics, which they're not.
For a minute they're both just watching the dogs, Drake waiting in case K is going to say anything else... he doesn't. That's worrying. Not surprising, just not a great sign.
"K?" he prompts, tipping to the side to very gently bump shoulders with the other man. "Can you tell me what you're feeling?"
Brushing against K's shoulder is a bit like brushing against a brick wall; he doesn't so much as sway, giving something for Drake to rebound straight off of again. He doesn't jump or flinch, though he does lift his chin a bit, does square his shoulders slightly on the other side of the contact.
Both hands are still in his pockets. Can he tell the other man what he's feeling?
Does it matter? When has it ever, except to prove he's stepping too far outside of his own bounds?
"I don't have names for a lot of them. Only special, living, real things have names."
Well, that can't be a good sign either. Drake's brow furrows worriedly at the lack of response to his friendly nudge, and although K's reply starts off alright it quickly descends into 'uh oh' territory.
"I'm gonna need you to break that down for me, man. 'Cuz you're absolutely all of those things, at least to me, or else I wouldn't be asking in the first place. And there wouldn't be any feelings to have names for, right?"
"Okay." It's not his place to argue, and he doesn't particularly want to anyway; what's the outcome then? He can see Drake means that. He can see he's concerned, can see that yes, in this moment he's real, that there's space for feelings, whatever those are.
And then what? How many months will it take for Drake to rationalize something else to himself, something that means he has to step back from K for K's own good? What will happen with their contract then? Which will give first?
Now Drake's just confused on top of the worry, which he figures probably wasn't K's intention.
"...I was hoping you could help me understand where you're at, that's all." They're going to have to back up a little if K's feeling dismissed, because Drake knows that's a mistake he's made before and still isn't sure how to fix. "I'm sorry. Can I try again?"
Anger, he realizes almost distantly. That's definitely in the mix, even as he reflexively smooths it over with calm because angry replicants make everyone around them anxious. It doesn't come naturally to him anyway, not really, and he does his very best to set it aside.
Hurt, he supposes, at the root of that anger. Loss, and a kind of grief that never really healed, that has no bottom and no way out, that will drown him if he lets it and he can't even see the shape of it. No one likes any of those in a replicant either though, so. Calm it is.
"I don't think there is a 'supposed to' for any of this," Drake admits, "especially when you're not used to letting yourself express things in the first place."
He has to think for a moment, because that isn't a convenient answer but he does want to offer K somewhere as a starting point. What comes to mind is, once again, a question.
"Do you know why I wanted to be the one to tell you? Even though you're gonna talk to him too, and why I'm asking you what you're feeling?"
Is he going to talk to him too? K has been dealing with people - with someone in particular - that think it's better, safer, kinder even for him to be held at a distance and she doesn't like to talk to him anymore. It doesn't seem like a foregone conclusion to K that Jesus will say anything to him at all, even though admittedly he is different from Sara. He is typically more willing to talk, to try.
"Because you trusted him, not me, and for at least the next two months we're gonna have to be able to communicate without him as a safety net. I didn't sign with you for Jesus, K. It matters to me how you're doing."
Overall Drake feels like he's been too reliant on Jesus, both in general since losing his partner and when it comes to K. Whether he justified the latter as not wanting to intimidate or push K, or just that the other sub was objectively safer and more likeable... they're on their own now. He needs to be more up front about giving a shit, even if K sees it as a challenge to his self image.
"You can tell me to back off. But if you're okay talking about it... maybe we can figure this out together?"
"He didn't ask you to?" K replies, doubtful. Of course that's not what Drake had said but he wouldn't, would he? And maybe that's not how blatant Jesus would have been either, but K knows about coincidences. And he knows how Jesus networks.
But trying to say Drake only signed with K because of Jesus is like saying K did the same and that's not strictly true. A large factor, perhaps, but not the only one.
"No," Drake replies simply, with a little shrug. "I brought it up, he actually seemed kinda wary at first. Like maybe he thought I was offering to make him happy? I dunno."
It doesn't really matter, does it? Things went how they went, and he leaned on Jesus too much either way. K's next question feels more important, especially since it's the same answer to both questions.
"We figure out how we relate to each other. That's what's gonna change."
K wasn't there. He doesn't have an opinion on what might have been behind that wariness, doesn't know exactly what was said and how, so he lets it go. It doesn't matter anyway.
Very little, if any, of it mattered apparently. He swallows, considers not answering just to fill space again, but in the end he does need to know:
Drake has to think about that before he says anything, because he hasn't really figured that out yet. After a moment he decides the only answer he's got is honesty. That's usually a good starting point for him anyway, even if it's not super reassuring.
"I guess I won't be asking him to help make sure you're doing okay anymore, or for advice on how not to screw up... I'm probably just gonna screw up directly. Sorry in advance." It's a weak, almost sheepish joke, but he's trying. In more ways than one.
"I don't need to be taken care of," K points out after a long moment considering that.
"I don't need you to never make a mistake. I'm not that fucking fragile."
He says it as calmly as anything else, but he never swears; it's a brief, blink and you'll miss it glimpse of the anger he never lets show because he doesn't want anyone to be afraid of him. Because it's dangerous for everyone to be afraid of him.
But the scale seems to have gone in the other direction. "I need to not be lied to, or if it has to be a lie, don't tell me that it's not. I need you to understand that I am alone here, and that means something. It means a lot. I can't explain it any plainer than that."
Although he doesn't miss the flash of anger, Drake doesn't seem scared of it. If anything his reaction is a strange... his mouth twists into a small, bitter smile.
"No, you don't. I'm not worried about fucking up because I think you're fragile, K. But I hear you." He exhales, looking back up to meet K's gaze properly again. "I think I can handle that."
"Then we should be fine," is his conclusion, even though no part of him feels settled. He's still processing what he's been told, what any of this means, and feeling things bubbling up that are both unexpected and, he knows, temporary.
That makes two of them. Drake doesn't feel settled either, and he's definitely not okay, but if nothing else he understands K needing time to process. His expression warms back up at the question.
"Take it. And thank you, for being honest with me." Hopefully they'll muddle through it alright. This world's been giving him a lot of practice at moderating expectations, that's for sure, but Drake's still hoping. "He does wants to talk to you, too. I guess you can call him when you're ready? Or don't, but in that case he'll probably try to contact you."
"I expect so, yes," K agrees, his voice toneless. Unless Jesus is full on panicking, or maybe if there were a way to get away from this city and this place, he expects that eventually the other man will want to say something. All K had to do is wait.
He pulls on Mango's leash then, pairs it with calling for her, low but firm. She's reluctant, and she doesn't actually do more than glance back at K before back to Sable, but she does let herself be pulled away.
Drake lifts his free hand and gives a little wave, hoping that's true. The 'soon' part. They might have different criteria for it, after all... but he can be patient. He watches K turn away and his back as he leads Mango down the path, worry twisting in the pit of his stomach.
It's only once the other man is out of sight that he decides he might as well go for a proper walk himself. Being alone in his apartment isn't great for him, that's been true since before Jesus decided anything. Maybe he'll line up some plans besides work for the next few days so he's out as much as possible, while things settle. But he has a feeling he's going to be checking his phone constantly, just to make sure he didn't miss anything from K.
Stick with him on this, buddy. It doesn't have to be the end of the world.
Jesus does come and talk to K. It's hard, but it's not the end of the world. It takes two days total for K to contact Drake again, to let him know he's ready to talk again.
He doesn't have Mango with him this time. He walks with a cigarette in hand, but puts it out before he has to go inside the building, before he has to speak with anyone.
He looks about the same as he did last time, except more settled into it. Quiet, in a way that's different from his usual quiet; self-contained, hands in his pockets and eyes around rather than on people.
"How are you?" he leads with, knowing Jesus had planned to talk to him again, too.
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And he has to do something. He has to sign with someone. He has to avoid prison again somehow, and he has to start believing what everyone he trusts is telling him sometime.
He doesn't get that far. He doesn't stiffen, not really, but every last bit of movement in his frame right down to his breathing slows to a stop and he stays motionless for three, four, five seconds after Drake is done talking.
Then, quietly, his eyes on the grass he asks, "What happened?"
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"I think he got scared. Not of me exactly, just--" he shakes his head, hesitating. Uncertain for a moment how much he should say that's his opinion versus what Jesus actually told him. "A couple nights ago he said he loved me, today he was saying he needs to find somebody he doesn't. To make sure we're safe? Maybe it'll make more sense when he explains it to you, I was... really caught off guard."
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"He struggles with that," K says simply. Softly. Jesus has never said as much of course, but K sees more than people want him to see. K saw the hesitation every time Jesus was feeling too much pleasure and had time to think about it; every time he tried to tell K anything important, which sometimes he overcame and sometimes he didn't.
He always knew. He'd started to trust what he was being told more than what he knew, what he saw, because after all he can't actually read minds - only the strongest emotion in the moment, and maybe, maybe -
But no. "I'm sorry."
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Drake sniffs and shifts his weight, pulling a rope toy out of the bag on his shoulder and offering it to the dogs to play with -- they're wrestling well so far, but he can tell that Sable is getting unhappy with Mango's tiny puppy needle teeth nipping at her ears. Once they start playing tug with that instead he straightens back up and looks at K again, sounding a little more composed.
"Maybe he'll change his mind," he muses, though there's not actually any hope in it. Just wishful thinking. "Worst thing I coulda done was hold on, you know? Make him feel guilted or trapped. But obviously it affects you too."
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K doesn't know that for a fact, of course; he has no idea what Drake and Jesus talked about, besides him. But he knows what Jesus told him and he knows what he looked like when he said it, knows he believed it. Knows he wanted so badly for K to believe it - badly enough that K did.
He doesn't bother feeling stupid; he verified everything he heard, just like he was created to do, just like he was supposed to because what he learned with his Voight-Kampff mod was not just who was a replicant and who was human. He learned that humans lie all the time, and most of all to themselves.
Nothing Drake says requires a response. K watches the dogs playing, and doesn't answer.
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For a minute they're both just watching the dogs, Drake waiting in case K is going to say anything else... he doesn't. That's worrying. Not surprising, just not a great sign.
"K?" he prompts, tipping to the side to very gently bump shoulders with the other man. "Can you tell me what you're feeling?"
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Both hands are still in his pockets. Can he tell the other man what he's feeling?
Does it matter? When has it ever, except to prove he's stepping too far outside of his own bounds?
"I don't have names for a lot of them. Only special, living, real things have names."
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"I'm gonna need you to break that down for me, man. 'Cuz you're absolutely all of those things, at least to me, or else I wouldn't be asking in the first place. And there wouldn't be any feelings to have names for, right?"
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And then what? How many months will it take for Drake to rationalize something else to himself, something that means he has to step back from K for K's own good? What will happen with their contract then? Which will give first?
"What would you like to disprove to me first?"
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"...I was hoping you could help me understand where you're at, that's all." They're going to have to back up a little if K's feeling dismissed, because Drake knows that's a mistake he's made before and still isn't sure how to fix. "I'm sorry. Can I try again?"
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Anger, he realizes almost distantly. That's definitely in the mix, even as he reflexively smooths it over with calm because angry replicants make everyone around them anxious. It doesn't come naturally to him anyway, not really, and he does his very best to set it aside.
Hurt, he supposes, at the root of that anger. Loss, and a kind of grief that never really healed, that has no bottom and no way out, that will drown him if he lets it and he can't even see the shape of it. No one likes any of those in a replicant either though, so. Calm it is.
"Where am I supposed to be at? With any of this?"
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He has to think for a moment, because that isn't a convenient answer but he does want to offer K somewhere as a starting point. What comes to mind is, once again, a question.
"Do you know why I wanted to be the one to tell you? Even though you're gonna talk to him too, and why I'm asking you what you're feeling?"
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Not the question. He shakes his head: no.
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Overall Drake feels like he's been too reliant on Jesus, both in general since losing his partner and when it comes to K. Whether he justified the latter as not wanting to intimidate or push K, or just that the other sub was objectively safer and more likeable... they're on their own now. He needs to be more up front about giving a shit, even if K sees it as a challenge to his self image.
"You can tell me to back off. But if you're okay talking about it... maybe we can figure this out together?"
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But trying to say Drake only signed with K because of Jesus is like saying K did the same and that's not strictly true. A large factor, perhaps, but not the only one.
"What is there to figure out? What changes now?"
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It doesn't really matter, does it? Things went how they went, and he leaned on Jesus too much either way. K's next question feels more important, especially since it's the same answer to both questions.
"We figure out how we relate to each other. That's what's gonna change."
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Very little, if any, of it mattered apparently. He swallows, considers not answering just to fill space again, but in the end he does need to know:
"How does that change for you?"
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"I guess I won't be asking him to help make sure you're doing okay anymore, or for advice on how not to screw up... I'm probably just gonna screw up directly. Sorry in advance." It's a weak, almost sheepish joke, but he's trying. In more ways than one.
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"I don't need you to never make a mistake. I'm not that fucking fragile."
He says it as calmly as anything else, but he never swears; it's a brief, blink and you'll miss it glimpse of the anger he never lets show because he doesn't want anyone to be afraid of him. Because it's dangerous for everyone to be afraid of him.
But the scale seems to have gone in the other direction. "I need to not be lied to, or if it has to be a lie, don't tell me that it's not. I need you to understand that I am alone here, and that means something. It means a lot. I can't explain it any plainer than that."
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"No, you don't. I'm not worried about fucking up because I think you're fragile, K. But I hear you." He exhales, looking back up to meet K's gaze properly again. "I think I can handle that."
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"Would you mind if I took a little bit to think?"
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"Take it. And thank you, for being honest with me." Hopefully they'll muddle through it alright. This world's been giving him a lot of practice at moderating expectations, that's for sure, but Drake's still hoping. "He does wants to talk to you, too. I guess you can call him when you're ready? Or don't, but in that case he'll probably try to contact you."
K should be prepared for that, he figures.
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He pulls on Mango's leash then, pairs it with calling for her, low but firm. She's reluctant, and she doesn't actually do more than glance back at K before back to Sable, but she does let herself be pulled away.
"I'll be in contact soon."
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It's only once the other man is out of sight that he decides he might as well go for a proper walk himself. Being alone in his apartment isn't great for him, that's been true since before Jesus decided anything. Maybe he'll line up some plans besides work for the next few days so he's out as much as possible, while things settle. But he has a feeling he's going to be checking his phone constantly, just to make sure he didn't miss anything from K.
Stick with him on this, buddy. It doesn't have to be the end of the world.
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He doesn't have Mango with him this time. He walks with a cigarette in hand, but puts it out before he has to go inside the building, before he has to speak with anyone.
He looks about the same as he did last time, except more settled into it. Quiet, in a way that's different from his usual quiet; self-contained, hands in his pockets and eyes around rather than on people.
"How are you?" he leads with, knowing Jesus had planned to talk to him again, too.
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