tushanshu_logs | [Closed] Walk Away

Characters: Jack Frost, Oliver Queen / PART TWO: + Kyle Rayner / PART THREE: + Connor Hawke / PART FIVE: + Zatanna Zatara
Date: Following this showdown and Jack's horrible excuse. Exact length of time to be determined.
Location: One of Tu Vishan's abandoned villages (as outlined here) near the shell's edge, a few hours outside Keeliai and by the mountains.
Situation: Taking issue with Oliver's plan of action, Jack has brought him outside the city to see if he can't get his head on straight. Part Two & Three: After their return, there are still some things to answer for.
Warnings/Rating: Ollie's probably not happy, so associated warnings there.

Jack had been out to these areas several times since his arrival, so he flew straight and unerring across the barren landscape, stirring up heavy storm clouds in his wake, pregnant with snow that was only partially intentional, reacting to his emotions. When they finally touched down at the outskirts of a burned husk of a village, Jack dragged Oliver's unconscious form into the most complete building. It wasn't great, but it had four walls and most of a roof and that was good because Oliver was heavy and it didn't help that Jack couldn't stop replaying their conversation in his mind, over and over.

"What if someone starts coming after you the way you're going after these kedan?!"

"Then I kill them."

"Wrong answer."

So when the man awakes, he will find himself under a blanket but sans boots (and said footwear being nowhere to be seen) and Jack sitting in the windowsill, looking out at a thick curtain of falling snow and humming something of a song under his breath.

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The wind does indeed and it spirals the apology back to Jack, which in turn only prompts him to move after... though he's relieved that it seems to indicate Oliver was stationary and not running. He wasn't sure he felt like flying at the moment, or could do it without crashing.

He finds Oliver next to the broken wall and lowers himself into a sitting position next to him, toppling the last little way against the wall. His speech is slower than usual but he still tries to offer him a grin. (The effect is spoiled somewhat, by the scattered burns and the red-on-blue near his collar. But it's still a grin.)

"So I think... you should probably plan the next camping trip. I'm discovering I'm... not really that great at it."

Jack looks terrible. Oliver can't imagine he looks a great deal better, but those burns are ugly. They need taking care of, as does the cut.

He casts around for something to say and ends up with, "I'm sorry," again.

"Yeah," Jack replied, and leaned his head against Oliver's shoulder. "Me too. I just wanted to help but... I've made things worse, huh?"

"Not your fault," he says. It isn't entirely.

If he ignores the cold he can pretend he's with Thea, an insomniac night spent on the couch watching bad TV.

"Kyle. I talked with - we talked. Argued. He said if I wanted to do what I do, then. We were done. He'd stop me." Is that the truth, what got him angry? It must be. He goes on mechanically. "I thought. Maybe. I guess I thought. If I went out. Like that. He'd do it. We could talk. Or maybe I didn't care. I don't know. I don't know."

Kyle-- someone he also trusted and considered a friend and something in Jack's chest fluttered uncertainly.

But he forced the feeling down and nodded against Oliver's shoulder.

"It's not good for anyone to have that kind of conversation when they're angry, but I think you had the right idea about talking. Maybe with someone there who can understand that you both... have reasons, to do what you do."

"Everyone knows." A pause. "No, they - know someone else. But they know who I am. They know another version of who I am."

He shifts so he's sitting instead of balanced on his feet, slowly enough not to disturb Jack. Softly: "I'm a better man than I think I am. But I'm not him."

He couldn't raise a son like Connor. Someone that patient, that centered, that kind. "I don't know how to be anyone else. I thought I was good at- something. That it would be enough, that..." He's not making sense. "I have to right his wrongs, protect my city, and now I just wonder if there isn't someone else out there who would be better for it and better at it than me."

Edited 2013-02-28 05:59 (UTC)

Without opening his eyes, Jack reaches over and pats Oliver's chest, above his heart.

"You just need to be the Oliver that remembers fancy furniture and too-big yards and protects his city and loves his sister, okay? That's what you're good at... it's like your center. Don't try to be someone else even if that person is another version of you. Everything else you can learn and grow into -- and in turn people will learn not to compare you to who you're not, even if they need a little kick in the right direction. If it comes to that, we can get boots."

Jack makes it sound so easy. A snowflake spins into his lashes and Oliver blinks.

"Can we go back now?"

The ghost of a grin pulls at Jack's mouth and he nods, blue eyes opening as he tries to marshal himself for a flight back to the city. He leverages off the wall and stands, using his staff for balance.

"Yeah," he answered, pushing down the dizziness with his habitual cheer. "For the record, this hostage thing feels awful. We can make Keeliai by dark, no problem."

"You aren't really the type for it."

Oliver mirrors the motion, putting a hand out without touching the spirit, an attempt to catch him if he falls. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. See what happens when you try to be someone else?" The joke is weak, but it's there.

Jack grips his staff, swings the crook end through the snow, and light and flurries leap up to whirl together creating an ice-formed sled, large enough for Oliver to sit in comfortably.

"Bet it's been a while since you've ridden one of these..."

...Sled. Giant ice sled.

He starts to get on, before realizing this trip is going to end up painful if he doesn't have a little more cover. Oliver vanishes, returning with the blanket and the remains of the bag Jack brought with them.

Then it's all aboard and he can only hope the trip is uneventful. He's not sure he'd have the wherewithal to do much if it's not.

He's had a lot of decades observing sleds to get this right and once Oliver is settled, Jack lifts into air, wobbling a little but being braced by the wind. He flips his staff around, hooks the curved end through the front of the sled, and tugs lightly. The icy construct glides forward on the snow without the slightest whisper of friction, a perfect match of frozen surfaces and he feels a faint ping of pride.

Then they're off and the snowstorm that had followed them to the mountains has in return layered the horizon with a pristine path, and the sled is zipping along at an almost motorized speed, kicking up an arc of snow behind them.

[Closed] Walk Away

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