[okay, that...does take the wind out of his indignant sails a little bit. It's still an objectively stupid position, but it's clicking now, how a survival mechanism against strangers can bleed over into one's personal life.]
[hmm. is stephen actually struggling just as hard as quentin is? that thought causes a couple of stops and starts before he lands on a text he actually sends.]
okay, well, i have had to spend my entire life writing scripts in my head for every interaction. the literal amount of effort i have to put in just to seems as socially functional as i do, to literally even form words and get them out of my mouth to speak, is
well, i can't relate to not caring what people think and i'm never going to. ever. i said it before but what's wrong with my brain can't be fixed with surgery, and it also can't be fixed with therapy or medication or anything else we've come up with for brains so far.
[typed and deleted: "i'm just fucking broken."]
you break the script every time and it's really frustrating and i'm sorry because that's not your fault but that's why this conversation is happening. i feel like i have literally no context for understanding what you're thinking or feeling, ever, and that's really confusing
[one might begin to understand why he likes his rules so clearly delineated.]
[ this is ... not how stephen expected to spend his afternoon. though actually he’s just at home with his phone, having set a book aside to rub the bridge of his nose with his fingertips.
there are some pieces that click well enough, and that he’s almost amused about not having clocked sooner--not like stephen’s never dealt with neurodiversity in his life, being a literal brain doctor. he doesn’t beat himself up about it: he doesn’t think he’s been cruel to the kid, exactly, so being neither shrink nor counselor he figures his main crime has been staying too far in his own lane.
after a long pause: ]
I don’t think the language of “fixing” people in your position is in vogue. You have a difficult time. That doesn’t mean something’s wrong; it means something’s different. It’s a useful distinction to make. For yourself, and for others, who should do their best to handle it compassionately, as they should everything else.
For my part, there’s plenty I think and don’t say. I doubt that will change anytime soon. It’s useful for me to keep my own counsel, and there are times when some things are better left unsaid. But if you can’t help worrying about it, I’m sure there’s some middle ground there.
I also wouldn’t blame you for cutting your losses, for what it’s worth. Plenty of other men in this town who might give you less trouble.
[He's heard that rhetoric before. It's not that he disagrees, for at least some of his issues. But others are objectively bad things, and they're all so intertwined that he wonders (hopes?) if he wouldn't have the bad things without the technically-neutral things. And he admits he does end up conflating them a lot, when he talks about them all together.]
[Still, it helps. Quentin works hard to not make the world be his therapist, sometimes with limited success, so being told "no, actually, other people should have compassion and that's not a failing of yours if they don't" is...well, kinder than he really expected from Stephen. But it's a nice surprise.]
i thought about it. cutting my losses
you're right that most people don't give me this much trouble. even ones who don't really care that much, i've had to learn how to read most people but i can do it.
[He thinks of Julia, sitting in his bedroom with him and making different facial expressions to drill him like flash cards -- "okay, if you have to learn it like you learn math, then let's apply the same techniques!" -- and his heart hurts.]
would it maybe be okay to just ask if i feel unsure with you? i don't want to like force you out of what works for you, but...like you said, middle ground
i don't need like big demonstrative displays or whatever. and i promise not to be like "do you like me" "are you mad at me" every second. it would just help if i could say "are you/do you/are we _____" and know i was going to get a clear, honest answer and you wouldn't think i was being weird or annoying by not being able to guess
[Quentin doesn't really understand the full depth of that admission. But he understands enough of it to know that he probably isn't seeing all of it, and that's enough to fill him with...something. Affection? Appreciation? Solemn honor?]
[Sometimes he gets this thing where he's just so full of feelings that they don't even have names anymore, they're just feelings.]
i don't know if you're gonna believe me, but you're a good man
[One last thing. A picture: an over-the-shoulder mirror selfie of the back of Quentin's head. He had to test out that hair slide, right? He's got it tucked neatly into a little bun and the gift Stephen gave him is what holds it. It took a little doing to figure out how to get it with just the hair piece, no cheating with a hidden hair tie, but he invested the time. It's zoomed in a bit so you can see it clearly.]
[No words, just the picture. He thought Stephen should be the first to see it.]
[ stephen is ready to be alarmed at the next text, mostly because he’s a little burnt out on talking about feelings; bald-faced honesty makes him tired. it also hasn’t escaped his notice that in this course of concessions he’s told quentin things he hasn’t really spoken about to anyone else.
but he hadn’t been lying when he said that quentin was a good kid, that understanding him better was a worthy effort. he thinks about christine again, about giving up the knife. about america chavez back home, who had been counting on him to be kind even though most versions of stephen strange were barely any good at it. he’s still part of the world, he knows. he has to be at least as decent as the next guy in it.
he saves the picture, because it’s nice. after a moment he saves quentin’s information to his personal contacts for the first time too.
and in the interest of being a slightly more readily understood person: ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[hmm. is stephen actually struggling just as hard as quentin is? that thought causes a couple of stops and starts before he lands on a text he actually sends.]
okay, well, i have had to spend my entire life writing scripts in my head for every interaction. the literal amount of effort i have to put in just to seems as socially functional as i do, to literally even form words and get them out of my mouth to speak, is
well, i can't relate to not caring what people think and i'm never going to. ever. i said it before but what's wrong with my brain can't be fixed with surgery, and it also can't be fixed with therapy or medication or anything else we've come up with for brains so far.
[typed and deleted: "i'm just fucking broken."]
you break the script every time and it's really frustrating and i'm sorry because that's not your fault but that's why this conversation is happening. i feel like i have literally no context for understanding what you're thinking or feeling, ever, and that's really confusing
[one might begin to understand why he likes his rules so clearly delineated.]
no subject
there are some pieces that click well enough, and that he’s almost amused about not having clocked sooner--not like stephen’s never dealt with neurodiversity in his life, being a literal brain doctor. he doesn’t beat himself up about it: he doesn’t think he’s been cruel to the kid, exactly, so being neither shrink nor counselor he figures his main crime has been staying too far in his own lane.
after a long pause: ]
I don’t think the language of “fixing” people in your position is in vogue.
You have a difficult time. That doesn’t mean something’s wrong; it means something’s different. It’s a useful distinction to make. For yourself, and for others, who should do their best to handle it compassionately, as they should everything else.
For my part, there’s plenty I think and don’t say. I doubt that will change anytime soon.
It’s useful for me to keep my own counsel, and there are times when some things are better left unsaid.
But if you can’t help worrying about it, I’m sure there’s some middle ground there.
I also wouldn’t blame you for cutting your losses, for what it’s worth. Plenty of other men in this town who might give you less trouble.
no subject
[Still, it helps. Quentin works hard to not make the world be his therapist, sometimes with limited success, so being told "no, actually, other people should have compassion and that's not a failing of yours if they don't" is...well, kinder than he really expected from Stephen. But it's a nice surprise.]
i thought about it. cutting my losses
you're right that most people don't give me this much trouble. even ones who don't really care that much, i've had to learn how to read most people but i can do it.
[He thinks of Julia, sitting in his bedroom with him and making different facial expressions to drill him like flash cards -- "okay, if you have to learn it like you learn math, then let's apply the same techniques!" -- and his heart hurts.]
would it maybe be okay to just ask if i feel unsure with you? i don't want to like force you out of what works for you, but...like you said, middle ground
i don't need like big demonstrative displays or whatever. and i promise not to be like "do you like me" "are you mad at me" every second. it would just help if i could say "are you/do you/are we _____" and know i was going to get a clear, honest answer and you wouldn't think i was being weird or annoying by not being able to guess
no subject
I can promise my patience. And that I wouldn’t begrudge you for taking your time elsewhere.
It’s a worthy effort. You’re a good kid.
And
[ christ. ]
If it helps, it’s not just you. I don’t make things easy for others. I’ve lost lovers, alienated friends.
People scare me too.
I’m working on it.
no subject
[Sometimes he gets this thing where he's just so full of feelings that they don't even have names anymore, they're just feelings.]
i don't know if you're gonna believe me, but you're a good man
no subject
Thank you, regardless. And take care.
no subject
[No words, just the picture. He thought Stephen should be the first to see it.]
no subject
but he hadn’t been lying when he said that quentin was a good kid, that understanding him better was a worthy effort. he thinks about christine again, about giving up the knife. about america chavez back home, who had been counting on him to be kind even though most versions of stephen strange were barely any good at it. he’s still part of the world, he knows. he has to be at least as decent as the next guy in it.
he saves the picture, because it’s nice. after a moment he saves quentin’s information to his personal contacts for the first time too.
and in the interest of being a slightly more readily understood person: ]
🔥