[ that she'd seen this, that he hadn't told her, that she'd been pulled into this memory — this dream — without her consent, that he'd fought against her, that he couldn't keep himself together.
he was sorry for a lot of things.
he swipes at his eyes with his forearm, sniffing and trying valiantly to gather up his composure again. he doesn't know why his mind's done to this to him, made him relive it again, and brought bobbi along.
he trusts her and was going to tell her about this but instead she'd seen the truth in the worst possible way. ]
I'm okay. [ a lie. ] I don't — I don't know why this happened.
[ he draws back eventually and this time, bobbi almost resists. she doesn't, in the end. this isn't about her, this isn't about remembering what it feels like to hold him or be held by him. this is something she shouldn't have seen, something she half wishes she hadn't and is glad, for the other half, that she had, because he shouldn't have to carry that all alone.
(she isn't his wife. his pain isn't hers to share.) ]
You don't have anything to apologise for.
[ he tries to compose himself and she's no longer holding him, but she keeps a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. she's not quite able to sever the connection between them and she doesn't want him to feel alone, be alone. ]
[ he shakes his head, still raw and confused about this, about how she was here. but she was and he's grateful for it because he remembers how this happened when it first happened. he remembers how awful and alone and desolate he'd felt.
he wipes his eyes again but the tears don't stop leaking. ]
I have a daughter.
[ he knows she knows now but he's saying it anyway. ]
I've only seen her twice. That was the last time.
[ she was gone now, spirited away by her mother against his wishes. his arms feel empty now. ]
[ it's not enough. she knew it wouldn't be. bobbi may have been married, but she never had a child before silena. what she knows is that she loved silena with all her heart, that she would have done anything for her.
marcos is still crying and bobbi uses the hand on his shoulder to tug him forward, back into an embrace if he wants it, if he'll let her. this time, she isn't going to fight any resistance he puts up. ]
You're a good father. [ this she knows without a doubt. ]
[ he doesn't resist. he steps forward and crumples again, making a note to apologize for basically making her hold him upright after all this. they're standing in the mess he's made and she's basically keeping him from laying on the floor and falling apart. ]
I didn't get a chance to be a good anything.
[ not to dawn. maybe never to dawn. there was some measure of comfort that she was going to be safe wherever she was but it was miniscule. he'd promised that he wouldn't be like his father but lorna had taken the choice away from him. ]
[ she remembers him with silena. she may not have been his real daughter, their marriage may not have been real — but it had felt real and he'd been so good. he'd been an amazing husband and father.
bobbi swallows, closing her eyes against that thought, curling her fingers into his hair and carding them through it. ]
I'm sorry.
[ still not enough, but she holds him and hopes that that, at least, helps. ]
[ it helps. it's never going to be enough to ease the open wound from the loss of dawn but it helps. he swallows and breathes roughly against her shoulder. he should say something, anything, but he doesn't know what to say.
she's seen one of the worst times of his life and she's still here, trying to help him, trying to comfort him. ]
Thanks.
[ for being there, for saying that, for trying. it's a lot. he stays like that, in the circle of her arms with his face hidden in her shoulder as the tears finally start to abate. he doesn't know what he's going to do after this, when he's done crying.
this is something from his past but he has no idea how to get out of it. he takes a shaky breath and sighs, quietly standing there with her. ]
[ he doesn't have to say or do anything. he doesn't have to pull himself together and he doesn't have to get out of it. not right now, not yet.
bobbi doesn't say anything, just hums in acknowledgement, her cheek resting against marcos's hair, fingers still carding through it. she can stay here for as long as he needs, for as long as the dream lasts, time feeling meaningless. ]
[ marcos takes another breath, shaky and strained, before he picks his head up again. the tears have finally dried but his eyes are red and he looks haggard, exhausted. he knows he really doesn't have time to sit and rest because of everything that's going on here, in his dream, in the past, and what's going on in new amsterdam. ]
I was hoping to tell you all this without...this.
[ he gestures at their surroundings and his world at large. ]
This is where I came from before I got dropped in New Amsterdam. Helping lead something called the Mutant Underground.
The Mutant Underground. [ bobbi lets that linger on her tongue for a moment, focusing on that instead of on the first part of what he'd said because —
because it's easier on both of them, probably. because she doesn't want to make this harder on him. because she doesn't know what to say and doesn't want to make it harder on herself, either. ]
Resistance against - what? Military, law enforcement?
[ he's joking but it's not untrue. he swallows and gestures to the couch that he's recently nearly trashed after lorna's exit. it takes him a moment to move away from her and sit down but once he does, he starts talking. ]
There was an incident a few years ago where a mutant rights rally got out of control and people were killed that were innocent. Mutants were blamed and we've been...basically running since then. Between the government, Setinentl Services, and the Purifiers, we're mostly underground because it's the safest place.
[ but even that's falling apart. ] I don't know how much else I can take from all this.
Few years now. I was doing something different for awhile before all this.
[ the cartel part of his life hadn't been that long ago, he realizes. and he'd still been so easily pulled back into that life when carmen came a calling. ]
It's how I met Lorna. [ he shrugs. ] How I lost it all too, I guess.
[ he'd lost everything and then ended up in new amsterdam like that world knew he had nothing else to give here. ]
[ he lost lorna and dawn — and then he had another family and had that pulled from him when the illusion came apart, too.
bobbi hasn't lost things like that. she nearly lost shield, realised that the organisation she'd been fighting for for so long had been infiltrated from nearly the start by those she'd fought against, had been perverted and twisted.
she lost a husband. she's lost friends and brothers and sisters in arms — but she's always had support, too.
she doesn't like seeing him hopeless. ]
For what it's worth [ the words are quiet. ] You're not alone, now.
[ no, he's not alone right now but this memory — this dream — just reminds him that he's only a few steps away from losing it all again. the nature of new amsterdam made that a guarantee. ]
It's hard to not feel that way sometimes. I know I'm...not, not really, but it's not easy to convince myself of that.
[ he knows people care about him but it's difficult to not see that as temporary after everything. he tries but it's hard. ]
[ it's something she knows better than him. she'd even seen him leave once before and now he was back and she was here, enfolded into one of his nightmares that showed no sign of giving up. how did he get them out of this? he hates being here.
he has two memories of his daughter and this room holds one of them. he sighs and leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and holds his face in his hands, tired and sad and angry but not at her. she was here and she was trying and he owes her so much. ]
I'm just so used to it happening that I'm expecting it.
[ he doesn't owe her anything and she doesn't want him feeling obliged.
people leave — and maybe that's just life. maybe the trick is to take the good moments so that the bad don't hurt as much. bobbi would like to think that she's good at that, but it doesn't always work.
sometimes, she gets tired, too.
she thinks if she were in his shoes, she'd be really tired — in general and in this moment, right now. ]
Why don't you close your eyes for a bit?
[ sleep doesn't really solve anything, especially not when there are nightmares — but sometimes, it's what gives enough strength to face another day. ]
[ a good idea. he's only hesitant because what if he closes his eyes and he wakes up in another nightmare like this. if he has to watch lorna take down that plane or watch himself get pulled back into the cartel life.
but he's tired and he doesn't want to face this place anymore. so, he leans back against the couch and, head propped up against a cushion and closes his eyes.
it doesn't take long for him to nod off, arms slack and legs stretched out in front of him. when he's sleeping, he doesn't feel dawn's loss as acutely. it's there but it's muted.
[ he falls asleep, even inside his dream — and bobbi stays and watches over him and eventually, her eyes drift closed as well and she fades from this dream, slides into another one that is hers alone and that she won't remember at all in the morning. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ that she'd seen this, that he hadn't told her, that she'd been pulled into this memory — this dream — without her consent, that he'd fought against her, that he couldn't keep himself together.
he was sorry for a lot of things.
he swipes at his eyes with his forearm, sniffing and trying valiantly to gather up his composure again. he doesn't know why his mind's done to this to him, made him relive it again, and brought bobbi along.
he trusts her and was going to tell her about this but instead she'd seen the truth in the worst possible way. ]
I'm okay. [ a lie. ] I don't — I don't know why this happened.
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(she isn't his wife. his pain isn't hers to share.) ]
You don't have anything to apologise for.
[ he tries to compose himself and she's no longer holding him, but she keeps a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. she's not quite able to sever the connection between them and she doesn't want him to feel alone, be alone. ]
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he wipes his eyes again but the tears don't stop leaking. ]
I have a daughter.
[ he knows she knows now but he's saying it anyway. ]
I've only seen her twice. That was the last time.
[ she was gone now, spirited away by her mother against his wishes. his arms feel empty now. ]
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[ it's not enough. she knew it wouldn't be. bobbi may have been married, but she never had a child before silena. what she knows is that she loved silena with all her heart, that she would have done anything for her.
marcos is still crying and bobbi uses the hand on his shoulder to tug him forward, back into an embrace if he wants it, if he'll let her. this time, she isn't going to fight any resistance he puts up. ]
You're a good father. [ this she knows without a doubt. ]
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I didn't get a chance to be a good anything.
[ not to dawn. maybe never to dawn. there was some measure of comfort that she was going to be safe wherever she was but it was miniscule. he'd promised that he wouldn't be like his father but lorna had taken the choice away from him. ]
I just wanted the chance.
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bobbi swallows, closing her eyes against that thought, curling her fingers into his hair and carding them through it. ]
I'm sorry.
[ still not enough, but she holds him and hopes that that, at least, helps. ]
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she's seen one of the worst times of his life and she's still here, trying to help him, trying to comfort him. ]
Thanks.
[ for being there, for saying that, for trying. it's a lot. he stays like that, in the circle of her arms with his face hidden in her shoulder as the tears finally start to abate. he doesn't know what he's going to do after this, when he's done crying.
this is something from his past but he has no idea how to get out of it. he takes a shaky breath and sighs, quietly standing there with her. ]
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bobbi doesn't say anything, just hums in acknowledgement, her cheek resting against marcos's hair, fingers still carding through it. she can stay here for as long as he needs, for as long as the dream lasts, time feeling meaningless. ]
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I was hoping to tell you all this without...this.
[ he gestures at their surroundings and his world at large. ]
This is where I came from before I got dropped in New Amsterdam. Helping lead something called the Mutant Underground.
no subject
because it's easier on both of them, probably. because she doesn't want to make this harder on him. because she doesn't know what to say and doesn't want to make it harder on herself, either. ]
Resistance against - what? Military, law enforcement?
no subject
[ he's joking but it's not untrue. he swallows and gestures to the couch that he's recently nearly trashed after lorna's exit. it takes him a moment to move away from her and sit down but once he does, he starts talking. ]
There was an incident a few years ago where a mutant rights rally got out of control and people were killed that were innocent. Mutants were blamed and we've been...basically running since then. Between the government, Setinentl Services, and the Purifiers, we're mostly underground because it's the safest place.
[ but even that's falling apart. ] I don't know how much else I can take from all this.
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in the end, she settles down next to him. he did gesture, after all. ]
How long have you been fighting?
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[ the cartel part of his life hadn't been that long ago, he realizes. and he'd still been so easily pulled back into that life when carmen came a calling. ]
It's how I met Lorna. [ he shrugs. ] How I lost it all too, I guess.
[ he'd lost everything and then ended up in new amsterdam like that world knew he had nothing else to give here. ]
no subject
[ he lost lorna and dawn — and then he had another family and had that pulled from him when the illusion came apart, too.
bobbi hasn't lost things like that. she nearly lost shield, realised that the organisation she'd been fighting for for so long had been infiltrated from nearly the start by those she'd fought against, had been perverted and twisted.
she lost a husband. she's lost friends and brothers and sisters in arms — but she's always had support, too.
she doesn't like seeing him hopeless. ]
For what it's worth [ the words are quiet. ] You're not alone, now.
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[ no, he's not alone right now but this memory — this dream — just reminds him that he's only a few steps away from losing it all again. the nature of new amsterdam made that a guarantee. ]
It's hard to not feel that way sometimes. I know I'm...not, not really, but it's not easy to convince myself of that.
[ he knows people care about him but it's difficult to not see that as temporary after everything. he tries but it's hard. ]
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[ fitz, peggy, dick — people bobbi knew from home, people she'd gotten to know here. they left and she can only hope that they're back home.
there's no telling when someone will leave, where they'll go.
in new amsterdam, at least, there's hope that they're back in their own worlds instead of dead. for the rest, it isn't all that different. ]
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[ it's something she knows better than him. she'd even seen him leave once before and now he was back and she was here, enfolded into one of his nightmares that showed no sign of giving up. how did he get them out of this? he hates being here.
he has two memories of his daughter and this room holds one of them. he sighs and leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and holds his face in his hands, tired and sad and angry but not at her. she was here and she was trying and he owes her so much. ]
I'm just so used to it happening that I'm expecting it.
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people leave — and maybe that's just life. maybe the trick is to take the good moments so that the bad don't hurt as much. bobbi would like to think that she's good at that, but it doesn't always work.
sometimes, she gets tired, too.
she thinks if she were in his shoes, she'd be really tired — in general and in this moment, right now. ]
Why don't you close your eyes for a bit?
[ sleep doesn't really solve anything, especially not when there are nightmares — but sometimes, it's what gives enough strength to face another day. ]
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[ a good idea. he's only hesitant because what if he closes his eyes and he wakes up in another nightmare like this. if he has to watch lorna take down that plane or watch himself get pulled back into the cartel life.
but he's tired and he doesn't want to face this place anymore. so, he leans back against the couch and, head propped up against a cushion and closes his eyes.
it doesn't take long for him to nod off, arms slack and legs stretched out in front of him. when he's sleeping, he doesn't feel dawn's loss as acutely. it's there but it's muted.
he can deal with it for now. ]
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