[ What they've got here with their usual "work to not think and start to slowly spiral without that routine to fall back on" methods is a big case of... Same Shitty Coping. That's the real highlight of everyone in this apartment squad. How none of them have healthy ways of dealing with themselves. Shoutout to everyone in a space war against unfathomable odds.
The offer gets him. Even without the undeniable break in John's voice, it would have gotten to him. Possibly even on a day when he doesn't feel set to scrub a hole through the kitchen and then keep going after he falls through to the next floor, but as it stands, especially today, when that's the mood so far. The feeling of being up to his chin in water and having no drains in sight.
Finn misses Riverview. Every day. He misses it with a childish intensity that he never learned how to ease. He misses his apartment, and the organized collection of things he owned or was given, that he knew the Falcon wouldn't have room for when he left. The shortcuts he learned to get to where he needed to be faster, the dumb planet hanging in the skyline, the routine he built for himself there from scratch. Good work doing what he's skilled at, with a teammate he cares about more than he could ever say in words, who cared about him right back, and a C.O. who treated them both like people. His stupid pet fish.
He never really had a home back home. Never had a family or a "before the war" to think back on. Still hasn't gotten the hang of thinking about after the war, because??? If he even gets there, he's not sure he's actually equipped for it?
Thanks to Riverview, he guesses he can add homesick to his repertoire of new life experiences. Riverview was more home than... home.
He misses the people more than the place. More than just about anything. He misses Chyler. Both Chylers, he guesses. It's as good to have John here as it can be to have anyone, but it makes it that much stranger not having her with them. ]
Yeah.
[ Maybe it would be cool if the floor actually did open up and give them something else to deal with right now. The scrubbing has lost its appeal, officially. It can no longer fill the void. He leaves the toothbrush there and sits up straight. He has all day to stand up, though. He'll work on that. ]
Guess it's nice to still have a choice about something.
[ Plenty of small-scale options. Coffee options. MRE options. None about like, the general direction of his life, but he's used to that. ]
no subject
The offer gets him. Even without the undeniable break in John's voice, it would have gotten to him. Possibly even on a day when he doesn't feel set to scrub a hole through the kitchen and then keep going after he falls through to the next floor, but as it stands, especially today, when that's the mood so far. The feeling of being up to his chin in water and having no drains in sight.
Finn misses Riverview. Every day. He misses it with a childish intensity that he never learned how to ease. He misses his apartment, and the organized collection of things he owned or was given, that he knew the Falcon wouldn't have room for when he left. The shortcuts he learned to get to where he needed to be faster, the dumb planet hanging in the skyline, the routine he built for himself there from scratch. Good work doing what he's skilled at, with a teammate he cares about more than he could ever say in words, who cared about him right back, and a C.O. who treated them both like people. His stupid pet fish.
He never really had a home back home. Never had a family or a "before the war" to think back on. Still hasn't gotten the hang of thinking about after the war, because??? If he even gets there, he's not sure he's actually equipped for it?
Thanks to Riverview, he guesses he can add homesick to his repertoire of new life experiences. Riverview was more home than... home.
He misses the people more than the place. More than just about anything. He misses Chyler. Both Chylers, he guesses. It's as good to have John here as it can be to have anyone, but it makes it that much stranger not having her with them. ]
Yeah.
[ Maybe it would be cool if the floor actually did open up and give them something else to deal with right now. The scrubbing has lost its appeal, officially. It can no longer fill the void. He leaves the toothbrush there and sits up straight. He has all day to stand up, though. He'll work on that. ]
Guess it's nice to still have a choice about something.
[ Plenty of small-scale options. Coffee options. MRE options. None about like, the general direction of his life, but he's used to that. ]