[Ultimately it probably shouldn't be terribly surprising that John appears to have vanished in the aftermath. Dirk feels a bit as though he's vanished himself, been buried in the coming down, in nursing his own minor injuries, in seeking out friends and acquaintances and ensuring as best he can that they've pulled through all right. And yet, he can't deny that it stings a bit, for all that he knows that's irrational.
It's fortune -- good or bad, wanted or unwanted -- that he happens to be here when John does arrive. He came to be by himself, to sit in the main room running his the fingertips of his left hand thoughtfully over the bruised, scraped knuckles of his right, thoughtful. Perturbed. He dislikes this trend of violence in himself. He's never indulged it before. The thought that it might be becoming easier makes his stomach lurch with shame and that's a feeling he needs to negotiate in isolation. It's still a relief when he hears the door open, when he can crawl out of his own skull.
Dirk looks up at John with a small smile, a furrow in his brow -- it's a tentative expression, wounded and weary, sympathetic, but still a warm one, infused with relief. He doesn't, however, know what to say. He searches through a few seconds of uncharacteristic silence, and finds something as good as anything, perhaps better than some:]
john;
It's fortune -- good or bad, wanted or unwanted -- that he happens to be here when John does arrive. He came to be by himself, to sit in the main room running his the fingertips of his left hand thoughtfully over the bruised, scraped knuckles of his right, thoughtful. Perturbed. He dislikes this trend of violence in himself. He's never indulged it before. The thought that it might be becoming easier makes his stomach lurch with shame and that's a feeling he needs to negotiate in isolation. It's still a relief when he hears the door open, when he can crawl out of his own skull.
Dirk looks up at John with a small smile, a furrow in his brow -- it's a tentative expression, wounded and weary, sympathetic, but still a warm one, infused with relief. He doesn't, however, know what to say. He searches through a few seconds of uncharacteristic silence, and finds something as good as anything, perhaps better than some:]
Have you been getting any sleep?