Lead

[in_extremis]

WHO: Tony, Richie, open in theory*
WHERE: Coruscant. A bar.
WHAT: A pair of addictive personalities walk into a bar.
WHEN: Mid-field trip?
WARNINGS: I don't know how dark this will actually get, but they're definitely going to talk about addiction a lot, and Tony is more self-destructive than usual.
*: I know I haven't had a normal open post in a wHile, so sorry about this one targeted prompt. I know no one ever takes the wildcard option, but really, now is the time, hit me up, I'm just floundering a bit in this event.


Jon did help. He did. Jon could also sense Tony's anxiety like a soft, marshmallow filling, and if Jon was going to continue to be so helpful, it was probably in Tony's best interest if he didn't know how profoundly pathetic Tony was. He was used to doing this on his own, anyway. The code was in the framework.

Isolating himself on the ship hadn't exactly worked out, but Tony thought he could maybe apply the same theory to a stale, narrow bar buried a few feet under the hotel. A whole planet to explore, and not a lot of time to do it, who would be sticking so close at this point? Tony knew he wouldn't be, if he didn't feel like his wings had been clipped. Steve was gone. It was going to get worse from here.

The bartender left a slimy trail in their wake as they moved up and down their space, like a snail making its way along the counter, ignoring Tony by now and leaving him to watch blindly as they swept by, then the discharge oozed incrementally toward where Tony had propped his elbows, then was mopped up by the tendril they used to carry a stained rag trailing behind themself. It splattered with a reliable regularity into a bucket at either end of the counter. It was revolting, but Tony was starting to find some peace in it, measuring the consistency of the slime in the way it pooled and was gathered in the sweep of the cloth. It was a very different kind of peace than the one Tony had slammed his head against by watching the way the liquid in the bottle of 'strongest you have', whatever that was, caught the low light and flashes of neon that filtered their way into the bar. He wasn't sure how long ago he had ordered it, but there were already two cigarette butts wilting in the melting ice of the glass that it had come with, and the third he had largely forgotten about burnt close to his knuckles.

The bartender also didn't speak any structured language, though it seemed to understand just fine. It was the snarling grunt that they hurled at another man that knocked Tony out of his reverie, blinking slowly at the guy raising his hands in surrender with a nervous laugh and insisting he was definitely going to pay, just slipped his mind, is all. It was dark enough in here that Tony knew it was a blanket invitation to get away with plenty that wouldn't be welcome closer to the surface, but even the snail-guy had their limits. They were still grouching in a low growl as the came sweeping in front of Tony again, not even slowing down as Tony tried to ask, "Got any more of these?" with the last of the cigarette brandished. They would probably be back, Tony thought, as he watched them go. Maybe.

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[in_extremis]

Still not sure what to do with the data he was being offered, Tony went, "Oh," and numbly complied with--anything she wanted, first mirroring her step toward him, then closing the gap entirely with an arm around her less occupied shoulder, other hand up to press to James' back. It simultaneously felt like much less than five months and much, much more to Tony, making the reboot process a sluggish challenge until the contact charged his system. Then, of course, he was talking; "That must make me a terrible friend, then, because I'm happy you're here and not..." Well, he had considered plenty of much worse things in the bleak days following her disappearance that neither of them had to think about anymore. "What does that make you?" he diverted instead, voice pitching lower as though he could share a secret with James. "A terrible noise, so far, my god, the pipes on you."

[theladyofwinterfell]

"He is a terrible noise," Sansa says, laughing even though she's exhausted of James right now and exhausted of him teething. She'd tried offering her own hand and she could only manage that for a little while before giving up. She really needs to make him something to teeth on when they get back to Temba.

James, for his part, stops crying a little when he sees there's a new person and Sansa is relieved.

"Teething. He's miserable with it and I hate it for him. He's such a happy baby otherwise. Puts everything in his mouth, though."

[in_extremis]

"If you're lucky, he'll grow out of that one," Tony replied, focus only flashing off of James for a moment to shoot Sansa a wry grin, that growth hadn't happened for all of them, then back to the baby to try to keep him distracted with a dazzling smile. It wasn't a tactic that was nearly as effective on babies, and Tony didn't have much more to offer, in general, so he stepped back then, waving a hand toward the door that had thwarted him as Sansa approached. "I was just trying to find something to eat," he explained, though this particular establishment had proven unwilling to play along. "Maybe we can get him something to chill him out."

[theladyofwinterfell]

"Hopefully we can. I haven't been able to spend much time with him until we got here so even screaming and crying, I don't mind him. I love him."

Sansa sighs a bit and shifts James on her hip. "So lets find food and see if we can get anything into him and a little more into me. We need strength to fight a battle, after all. No army won a battle with an empty stomach."

[in_extremis]

That made Tony narrow his eyes with uncertainty, not sure how much of it he was even meant to question, but wired to solve the problem first and foremost. He turned, scanning the street, and didn't immediately see anything at all promising but pointed confidently in a direction nevertheless. Less confidently, he started to offer Sansa and arm to walk with her, not sure how welcome the gesture would be. "Have you been here?" was the first thing that came out of his mouth to cover the awkwardness, other hand up with his fingers splayed out like a spider as though that gave his question any better context. "Since we got here," also didn't feel like it made much sense, and Tony pressed his lips together then to formulate a better design. It only resulted in his curling hand darting back and forth and his grand explanation, "This whole time."

[theladyofwinterfell]

Sansa takes his arm even if it's a little awkward with James on the opposite hip. She's so glad he's growing up happy and healthy but she does miss when he was quite a bit lighter. It made things like this much easier than they are now. It takes her a moment to register the question and once she does, a little frown pinches her brows before she shakes her head no.

"No, I just got here....Gods, within a few hours ago. It's been five months back at Winterfell for me. I suppose you thought I'd just...not talk to you? You don't have to worry about that. I spent five months with no one even giving me a hug or touching my hand. It puts things into perspective. What happened, happened. I did what I did in love and I can't punish myself or you for it. I'd rather have my friend."

[in_extremis]

"Jesus, what are you doing out here?" Tony was already talking over her for the revelation that she had gone from whatever medieval campfire she was from straight into the bustling Coruscant streets. Sansa's adaptability was impressive enough that it left him staring after the outburst, walking slowly and only belatedly realizing how much it was like their first walk together, on another very alien planet while she struggled to carry James. He only looked away again with a heat he could feel in his chest that he tried to pat away with an anxious hand over his heart at love, not entirely sure what Sansa meant by it and ever intimidated nonetheless.

"It's really easy to forget how different you are until you say stuff like that," he muttered, in fondness for that adaptability but also what apology he could manage yet for not realizing how differently they might experience any one exchange.

[theladyofwinterfell]

"My life necessitates it," Sansa says simply. "I had to hide my son when I got back. How would I explain a child born of my body when I had only been gone a few hours? I said I found James in the woods and gave him to a wet nurse. I saw him as much as I could but it ached, being so alone. I didn't want him to forget me."

She chews her bottom lip for a moment, unsure. "I didn't know if I could come back here. Or, if I could...if any of you would remember me. I missed you. You make me laugh and smile and I cried quite a bit, knowing how stupid I'd been. I was reckless with my...with that and I took it out on you. I was the one who threw myself at you and then I was angry and hurt that you didn't want me like that. I ruined our friendship and then I didn't get a chance to make it up. So this is me making it up to you. You didn't do anything wrong."

[in_extremis]

The performance that Sansa had to quickly formulate and endure after her departure was horrifying enough to keep Tony quiet, arm slipping from hers to take hold of her hand instead in a tight, apologetic squeeze. Horrifying, but also raised an array of questions that Tony had carefully tried to formulate to keep from aggravating any of those wounds, leaving him on only a sharp inhale and mouth hanging open when Sansa continued. That answered most of the questions anyway; how much she remembered, what it was like being back in her home world after being here, how much of it really felt real even with the proof of James with her, because between her and that holocron that Kaz had found, it was sounding like they really weren't going to forget.

More immediately, though, Tony was waving his free hand to try to stop Sansa from going on the way she was, as though she had anything to be guilty about. Tony especially didn't know what she had to make up for, or what exactly she was offering to do so, but the phrase 'you didn't do anything wrong' never failed to coil sour and heavy in his chest, so that could have been the misguided gift she intended to leave him with. "Neither of us really knew how to...talk to each other," he was willing to concede, though he had a lot less excuses and should have known a lot better. Sansa didn't have as much frame of reference for Tony's world, they didn't spend nearly as much time talking about it. "Where I'm from--it's not like that, I'll hug people I've just met, you know, that--this kind of intimacy--" he lifted their hands slightly, "we have different relationships with it. So..." Tony wasn't sure they even wanted different things.

[theladyofwinterfell]

"We do. Where I come from, we don't do this. I like this," Sansa reminds him, in case it isn't clear because she knows she can be opaque about her feelings at the best of times and she wants this perfectly clear. They need to resolve this bit so they can go on being friends - at least in Sansa's estimation.

"I was mourning and I wanted to be loved. I wanted a father for my son. What I didn't realize was that I can't make someone love me, body given or not. So that bit is done. I care for you and I always will but I have to close that door for now. I shouldn't have opened it from the start but I was vulnerable and lonely and I love you so it just happened - but I can love you as my friend. If you'll have me, that is. I hope you will."