(no subject)

[wastedlife]

Are you serious? What are you doing?

This is a terrible idea. You know it. I know it. Just stop. Just go back to what you were doing and let me alone.

I've had enough of this. All of this.

Just.

No.

Comments

or a great idea!

[wastedlife]

Don't I?

[And you look suspiciously familiar. He wonders if he's starting to crack up again.]

What's wrong with me?

[smash_stuff]

If...I had to guess, I would say lack of sleep? [Based on the dark baggy circles around the other's eyes alone, it's not a bad guess.]

[wastedlife]

That's a good guess. You have insomnia too?

[smash_stuff]

[faint smile]

Only when I'm up all night.

[His is more fear of dreaming than real insomnia, but the same effect.]

I don't usually talk to myself though, not like this anyway.

[wastedlife]

I'd say I don't either, but lately?

[He sighs.]

Lately, things have been a little weird for me.

[smash_stuff]

[Uh oh]

Weird how?

[Weird like losing control to a green rage monster?]

[wastedlife]

Weird like finding out that there's this other part of me I can't control that's...

[He shakes his head.]

It's—It's crazy. Never mind.

[smash_stuff]

[Cue all the blood draining away from Bruce's face. That was way too on the mark there.]

...like someone else in your head? [Please say no, please say no]

[wastedlife]

[Under his breath, he chuckles with bitter amusement.]

Yeah. Like someone else in my head. Until he comes out and makes a mess.

[He notices his pallor, though, and gives him a tiny, wry smile.]

Hey, listen, don't worry. I'm me right now. He's not coming out.

[smash_stuff]

[Bruce sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He'll be sitting down now.]

Yeah, I know...a mess is an understatement. [At least for him, it is.]

Thanks. I'll try to do the same. [wryly]