returnjourneylogs | I know the breakdown. Everything is gonna shake now someday

Passengers: Alex and anyone else interested
Location: Inmate Bunks
Date: After the SIM
Summary: Alex is having a small nervous breakdown, on top of the physical effects of dying in the SIM.
Warnings: Language

Once Alex had gotten back to his bunk, he'd huddled in on himself. It hadn't been easy to get back. He'd had balance issues, couldn't grab properly, was confused, and felt nauseated. He remembered dying in the SIM--being slowly eaten alive by the plant-life and fungi.

Was that what the people he'd killed had experienced? That increasing loss of self, as he'd consumed them? Alex couldn't quite remember--or rather, he remembered too much. Hundreds of memories fought themselves for space in his head, to make themselves heard. It was overwhelming, drowning out his own voice and sense of 'who' he was.

Who was Alex Mercer anyways? He wasn't a real person after all, was he? With a groan, Alex tossed his communicator out the front of his bunk, and curled up under his blanket. There were multiple senses--multiple voices in his head--grateful that his shapeshifting was locked in one shape at the moment.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I'm very patient. I can wait."

That might be a threat. Grace can hang out here all day.

"You don't want to talk about the simulation? At least get some of it off your chest?"

"No." Flat no, and final. And Alex is willing to let that silence stretch. If Grace doesn't break it, Alex will eventually do so softly. "I never want another one of those. I don't need it to walk in someone else's shoes." Very quietly voiced.

"Me neither."

Grace is quiet for a moment. William had been so sure that they were great, unique learning experiences that would expose the depths of your soul, teach you things about yourself you'd never otherwise know. All it showed Grace is that people die for no reason at all, and meaningless lives mean nothing, in the end.

Still. She has a job to do.

"But it's over now, thank goodness. The sooner you stop dwelling on it, the better, right? Put some better thoughts in your head for a while. Distance will help, don't you think?"

"I can't forget it." Alex said quietly. "I can't forget any of it...and I still hear them all, screaming. Every time I close my eyes. Distance doesn't matter..."

Them all, he said? What in the world did he get up to in that simulation? Grace is, uh, pretty sure she doesn't really want to hear this whole story.

"Alex, I wish I could tell you that it'll all be okay... I don't know, I haven't been through this before. But there's people on this ship right now that have, and they're up and walking around. It's... horrible, right now, I know, but you can make it through. And you don't have to do it alone. We're all here with you."

Now Alex met her eyes, not quite glaring at her with icy-blue eyes of his own. Measuring, suspicious. Hidden in his blanket cocoon still. "I doubt we're 'all' here with me. Other than that we've all been through something traumatic." There was bitterness in his tone.

Finally he gave a slow blink, and softly mocking laughter came from the cocoon. "Whatever I am, I'll probably make it through. Took a fucking nuke to take me out before, after all."

"That's what I mean! We're all here, dealing with what happened, together. You can rely on us to help. It's what we're here for."

The way Alex looked at her, staring, untrusting... it feels familiar. Predatory, almost, but familiar. She knows Alex isn't likely to hurt her, he's just lashing out because he's in pain. But then he says something about 'whatever he is', and a flicker of confusion crosses her face.

"...What nuke?"

"The military decided the only option to stop the viral outbreak in Manhattan was to nuke it. I stopped the commander in charge, hijacked the nuke, and took it out over the ocean as best I could. That's why I'm here, Grace--I didn't survive." All said evenly, and he's staring at her again. "I'd survived being poisoned, shot at repeatedly, slammed into the ground, drops from skyscrapers, missiles, and everything else they threw at me."

"It sounds like you were brave. Like you did the right thing."

She leans her shoulder gently against the side of the capsule door, her hands clasped together. There's a tiny, nearly-imperceptible wince as she does so-- as if shifting her weight off of a stiff joint. Of course, Alex is unlikely to have noticed that, which is why she allows a moment of weakness to show at all, even in so minute a way. She thinks, a moment.

"Were you afraid?" It's quiet, and a little solemn.

"I don't think I had time to be afraid. I don't remember fear..." He had done the right thing, albeit for selfish reasons. He noticed that wince, but isn't going to comment.

"That's probably for the best."

Grace hadn't had time to do more than realize that gee those headlights are coming at us very fast and oh they're not stopping-- before her own lights went out, the first time. That had been the one upside to the entire experience. That, and not remaining dead permanently, she supposed, although there were times where that felt more like a downside, and those times were much more frequent than she would admit.

But the simulation had granted her a long death, the kind she was acutely aware of for the entire duration of it, and the memory of it was clinging viciously to her brain, even now. She was afraid. The whole time, she was afraid.

"It wasn't like that in the Simulation." Alex said softly, now looking away from where he'd been staring at Grace. It was as close as he'd come to admitting he'd been afraid. He now knew--knew--intimately how being consumed felt. Which is part of why he'd broken.

He was broken.

"No, it wasn't. I'm... well, a lot of things, but. I'm angry. If the Navarch knows what's good for her she'll stay far away for a long time."

Fighting words, from someone as seemingly harmless as Grace. Surely that says something about the experience's lingering effects on the psyches of the Peregrine's inhabitants, inmate and warden alike. She's not looking at Alex, either-- ashamed to admit to something so offensive, maybe.

It took Alex a moment, but then he looked at her again. And let out a soft laugh. "Anger is an emotion I'm well-acquainted with. Being angry at the world, at other people, at circumstances." He sighed. "I was angry the project I was working on was being covered up, forcefully. How dare they, when I was finally getting what I wanted. The life I wanted." A pause. "That's why Alex ran. Not for any noble cause or reason, but because he was in danger of being black bagged. Took a vial of the virus with him as insurance."

"...He?"

Alex hadn't been in the habit of referring to himself in the third person, before now. And it seemed like he was drawing a distinction between past actions and present emotions. Was there really that much of a difference, post-simulation? Or was something else going on here? Best to be gentle, and most of all, careful. Grace has no intention to provoke, but obviously he was here in this space prison for a reason, and if he was indeed as volatile as he says he has been in his past (this past-Alex version of himself, anyway), then it's not just out of kindness's sake that she approaches with kid gloves.

Edited (bleh, dumb typo) 2022-05-21 03:54 (UTC)

Very likely something else going on, considering Alex was usually very deliberate in his choice of words. He always had been, when asked about himself and his story, as it were.

"Dr. Alex J. Mercer." Came the quiet answer to her question. "I'm....going to tell you something Claire, and it's not like it's any huge secret but it's only come up so far with one other warden. It's also not like I don't know you guys talk with each other."

I know the breakdown. Everything is gonna shake now someday

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