2019-06-17 - Drag You Down


Kelly's sleep is interrupted by Roy's nightmare. WARNING. Drug Use, Child Endangerment within.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Mon Jun 17 20:03:15 2019
Location: 58 Water Street - Apt 501

Related Logs


Theme Song



"Daddy, I need you." Kelly hears the voice clear in her head. It's a voice she's not heard before - but it's a vision she recognizes from pictures Roy's shown her. In her mind, she can hear Lian Harper calling out to her father, but Roy's nowhere to be found. It's as if his mind is shut off to something at the moment. A mental fog of sorts.

He's still in the bed, turned away from Kelly, his arm detatched and on the floor. In his deep sleep, he must be having a dream of some type - one of not the pleasant variety - as the voice cries out again, pained, saddened, "…daddy, I'm scared. Please come home."
Roy's dream spills into Kelly's, and the telepath's dreamscape flows like water from one to another as that voice calls out to her. A voice that makes her chest hurt despite it being new. Impossibly familiar. It draws Kelly to it, that familiarity and that fear. "Lian?" Her words are tentative, spoken into the darkness.

Kelly is still asleep next to Roy, and she curls up a bit more as the chill of the dream makes her seek out warmth unconsciously. In the dream, Kelly walks alone in that darkness. "Roy?"

"Daddy, please.." Lian is standing at a door. It's locked, and she's unable to open it. Dressed in a pair of footie pajamas, and her hair done up in pigtails, she looks all of the eight years old that Roy has told Kelly about. As she hears Kelly speak out to her, her attention turns to the woman, and she frowns. "Daddy won't come." she says quietly, looking to the door again.

The apartment that Kelly finds herself in is unfamiliar. It's clean and tidy - it's clear someone kept things in order. There's drawings on the fridge, crayon sketches of Roy in his garb, of an Asian woman that must be Lian's mother. The faint smell of smoke hangs heavy in the air.

While feeling the press of Kelly against his back, Roy barely responds, a small shift in his posture, but he's curled in on himself.
As the apartment takes shape around her, Kelly is focused on the little girl. As she draws up next to her, the redheaded woman goes down to her knees to put her on more of Lian's level. "It's alright." Her first instinct is to reassure the moppet, reaching out with one hand to try to rub her arm reassuringly. In the dream, Kelly's arms look normal and not chrome-silver.

Kelly finally takes a moment to look around, taking in the neat lived-in-ness of the place, so at odds with her own apartment, despite her having been there almost a year. "Is daddy sleeping?" Her nostrils pinch close a bit at the acrid scent of smoke, but there's nothing she can see burning.

"He's gone. He always goes. He says he wants to make things safe. I'm scared." The smell of smoke is increasing, growing stronger. It's coming from behind the door that Lian was trying to open. "Daddy's in his room." she says, as she looks up to Kelly with soulful green eyes - there's no doubting that she was Roy's daughter, as bright as they are.
Sadness colors Kelly's eyes, turning the moss-green even darker. She could try to argue with Lian, but that's not really her, is it? It's just a ghost… One of Roy's ghosts. Just like the smoke.

Kelly rises to her feet and offers a hand out to Lian. "It's OK to be scared. Your daddy is scared, too. But I'm here." She turns to look at the door, placing her other hand against the smooth surface.
The door is warm to the touch. The fire behind it is strong. But to Kelly's touch it yields and opens.

When it does, Kelly will find herself in Roy's hell.

Stretched out in the center of the room, Roy's limbs are held up by the same medical rubber ties that he once used to tie down his arms before shooting up. His own arm - his missing arm, is at his throat, holding him in place as thousands of needles pierce through him, pushing drugs deeper in

The dream is still clinging to Kelly, her thoughts muddled and confused, but both her-in-dream and now awake are trying to get to Roy. Both her arms and legs wrap around Roy, pulling his sweaty body against hers in a grip that would be painful if she were stronger. She tucks his head under her chin as though if she could just hide enough of him she could keep him safe from the things inside his head. It's not rational, but she's not entirely so either at the moment.

Kelly's hand strokes his damp hair as she holds him tight. She doesn't try to hush his crying, just murmurs softly to him: "I'm here." It's repeated into his mind, her love and concern poured over him though it's colored by hearbreak for him. "I'm here."

She's a lifeline in the storm of his emotions and thoughts and he clings to her as hard as she is to him. She can feel that stump of his arm trying to pull her closer, failing miserably, but it moves, as if he still thinks he has his own arm there. "I'm sorry.." Those two words are just repeated, over and over again. His tone sorrowful, broken.

He got her killed. He nearly got Kelly killed. He's such a screw up. He tries. Lord, he tries - but he's broken and not quite whole on the inside. And he has no idea what to do with it.

Kelly Dehaven's hand stroking through his hair tightens into a fist as she hears those broken words repeated. As she *feels* how shattered he is inside. It's like being drug through broken glass, his fears and doubts embedding into her and making her bleed as well. She turns to press a kiss against his sweaty brow and tries to think of something, anything, to try to help him shake free. Somehow she doesn't think her own method of counting out digits of Pi is going to bring him much calm.

It does make her think, however. Instead of trying to fix the broken things when he's certainly not in a headspace to even attempt it, she tries for a moment of zen. Kelly closes her eyes, pressing her brow against his and drags up a memory and pours it into his mind.

The still, cool waters of a lake in the Pacific Northwest, ringed by a thick fringe of green. There's a floating wooden platform out in the water, for lazing about on or jumping off of into the water. The sun is still climbing higher, and the air has a bit of the morning's chilly bite to it. Pine fills the nose and the sky is so blue.

Roy Harper shivers and shudders under Kelly's touch. He's not had a drug in his body in months, but sometimes the shakes still come. Especially in a moment where he is weak. And he is weak. It is a reminder of that. Kelly guides and pulls, and he's dredged out of the Scarlac pit of his own mind towards hers.

His breathing slows as he feels the cool breeze as it cuts through his clammy skin and soaked shirt. He can smell the evergreen in his sinus, as real as if he were there. How she was able to dredge up something so close to his own memories of his youth is amazing.

The rope swings lazily from a tree, waiting for someone to grab it and take it. To take that first swing out over the lake and release and plunge themselves into the water. To go in.. to be cleansed, and then emerge again.

They had talked about both being West Coasties before, and the lake is one from her own memories. One of the rare trips with her parents. Rare because she was at least as busy as they. The pressures of being a child prodigy.

While Roy continues to shake and sweat, Kelly can at least see and feel the leeches of his dreams starting to fall away. "It's alright." She murmurs against his skin, fingers sweeping against him to try to guide him back to the physical world. It's still painful there, but not quite as horrific. "It's alright."

It's tempting to push them into that imaginary space, surrounded by the warmth of good memories. But while the water is cool and clean, it's also deep, and dark and part of her worries that Roy might want to be cleansed so badly, he might not come back out.

Finally, his breathing slows, memories fading - gone is the apartment, the fire. All he has now is in his arms. Kelly. This moment, this feeling. His eyes rise, looking up into hers. Thankful, but at the same time, he's ashamed. He knows what he did - even accidentally. And he didn't mean to.

But it will probably happen again. And that scares him to no end. That she will grow weary of it. That she will not want him any longer.

As Roy tilts his head up to look at her, darkness casting deep shadows across his face her hand cups his cheek and she leans to kiss him briefly. Hard. Then she pulls back, the lights rising from her mental direction so she can see him better. "It's alright to be afraid to fail." She says softly. "It helps to keep us focused so we don't. And if you feel like you're slipping, I'm here to catch you." She promises. "I'm alright." She'll likely have her own nightmares in the future, she's shared Roy's fears too deeply to avoid it, but dreams are only illusion, right?

As that worry gnaws at him, she gives him a small shake. "I won't let you fall." She's tried to be careful, not taking more than he's willing to offer, but if he does start to fall… How much will she take from him to keep that promise? As a telepath with full access to his mind, there is a lot she could do to him that he'd be defenseless against.

Roy Harper falls quiet and melts into that kiss. He can't say anything else. He's already fallen. Just.. not in the way they're discussing. There's no other words to say, he's an ugly crier, and there's no more tears. There's only what's real. What's here.


Melting back into her, he leans her back on the bed to try to find another way to distract himself.. but that's for a different time.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License