revivalproject | Shelter From The Storm

WHO: Tommy Shepherd, Dustin, You?
WHERE: The Diner
WHAT: Sheltering from the Blizzard
WHEN: During the Blizzard
WARNINGS: CW: Discussions of accidental explosions

I. Keeping The Food Going

For once there was a proper way for Tommy to distract himself from the madness of the storm. And he always needed the distractions. The storms made him less himself, took away his power, took away his strength. Tommy hated nothing quite like the storms. He'd been hurt so many times during them, been lost, been broken in his heart and mind.

"Here," he says as he whips the space blanket off of his shoulders and draped it over another person's shoulders. "I'm trying to get the fire going to cook. Just, uh, give me more time. I've got some dried meat you could nibble on if you need."

II. Judgements Spoken | CW: Discussions of accidental explosions

It was later in the day and things were settling down when it happened. Tommy finally had an open fire going near one of the vents in the kitchen so people could stay warm. It was sorta cramped staying back there, but they would do what they had to do. But he was getting ready to settle down and then it happened.

A shadowy figure seemed to manifest as Tommy was moving to sit down. One he recognized. A high school aged girl, who looked scared, and unerringly right at Tommy, who paled.

"You're not real," he hissed at the ghostly form. "You're not real. Like all the storm images. Go away!"

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For a moment, it seems like Dustin will accept that reasoning. I can be better, he thinks. I can...

But then, without Rose's face glowering at him to activate that part of his brain that cares about being accepted by his mother, Dustin remembers why he was so upset. She deserved this.

He huffs a derisive laugh. "...No," Dustin says bitterly. "I don't think I can. I would do it again, actually. Can't believe she..."

The boy shakes his head, dragging a hand through his hair.

"...Can't believe it got to me," he grumbles. "Fuckin' storms. Hate this place sometimes."

"I hate it all the time," Tommy countered. And with Dustin feeling better, well, Tommy can get back to busying himself to try and ignore his own melancholy.

That gets an actual bark of laughter out of Dustin, followed by a series of haggard-sounding coughs.

"Shit," he wheezes. "Okay yeah, agreed. Fuck this place."

Dustin sits back down by the fire, letting Tommy go about whatever business he needs while he continues trying to warm up. The wry smirk on his face fades quickly when Tommy leaves his field of view; the brief injection of cynical humor might have temporarily helped his mood, but he can't stop thinking about both of their specters, and how viciously both he and Tommy reacted to them. His feelings are Complicated and Dustin doesn't like that.

Luckily, they'll have plenty of time to explore those emotions over the next few days of isolation and repeated psychological torment. Should be fun!

They will, and Tommy... Well, he was going to watch over Dustin. Dealing with his own trauma was hard. Trying to support someone else who was hurting? That was more in his wheelhouse.

"Going to make us soup," he says as he moves away. "We could use it."

Getting Dustin to admit that he's hurting in the first place is a very tall Step One. He's not even quite ready to admit that he's getting sick, which is why he doesn't just let Tommy make that soup in peace.

"I can help," Dustin offers, his voice a hoarse croak as he tries to project it into the kitchen. Anything to keep me busy. Idleness has always been an enemy, and that hasn't changed with his powers suppressed. "I'll get some water boiling."

Dude, just let him handle this.

"You might be able to, that doesn't mean you should," Tommy points out, rolling his eyes.

"I need to get a fire started first."

Edited 2023-03-12 16:53 (UTC)

Dustin huffs, openly indignant. "You saying I can't? Just because--"

I don't have my powers anymore, he almost says, but cuts himself off with a heavy frown and a crinkle of his brow. Tommy knows he has abilities at this point, obviously, but years of self-censorship make broaching the topic feel weird anyway.

"--I-I'm not incapable," he stammers instead. "I know how to start a fucking cooking fire."

"I'm saying I've got a fuck ton more experience doing it in the storms than you do," TOmmy points out. "Been here years, Dustin."

"I know," Dustin insists, his indignance quickly giving way to annoyed agitation. "I'm not arguing efficiency here, I'm--I just can't sit around with my thumb up my ass, waiting. I've gotta do something."

Okay, that's...

"Your hands stable enough for chopping right now?"

"Sure," Dustin says. He is, naturally, totally oblivious to any kind of common ground he might be standing on with Tommy at the moment. "Cutting up vegetables doesn't take a fucking rocket scientist, I can do that."

"No, it doesn't, but people can have conditions," Tommy points out before going back to his work. "You know where we keep things stored here?"

Dustin's face screws up in a frustrated scowl, his fists clenching at his sides, but he just about manages to stop himself from completely losing his temper. He's trying to be helpful, he has to remind himself. Don't need to bite his head off for that.

Although, with how strained his voice ends up being, it sounds like he might. "Yes," Dustin hisses through his gritted teeth. "I haven't forgotten."

Before he has a chance to actually blow up, the boy storms past Tommy towards the pantry.

Dude, he didn't even know how familiar Dustin was with the place. Some people didn't remember after one or two passes in a place.

"Cool. I'll write down what I need," he says, because it's going to be a lot of stuff.

Shelter From The Storm

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