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t.j.

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When she's invited to come visit T.J., Lily nearly jumps at the chance. The past few months have been awful, worse than she thinks she's ever had, and although she still has Delta and Eden, she feels like her small circle of friends is quickly disappearing and she isn't sure what to do with that knowledge.

This is why Lily's never really let herself get too close to people. This is why she's always stayed just separate enough for it not to hurt when someone has to move on. She's never blamed people before and she doesn't blame them now, but she also doesn't like how painful it is, how much her chest tightens when she thinks of Nina being gone. Forever. There's really no coming back from death, no matter what she wants to believe. A movie is one thing, but going to the funeral, knowing what had happened, having it happen here in this city, it's all completely different. It's much more real.

But she's invited and so she collects a few newer magazines for T.J. and brings a couple of books along as well, then submits to being gently searched -- they don't call it that, but they go through her bag and ask her to turn out her pockets -- before she's allowed inside to see him. There are no bars on the windows and it's hardly prison, but at the same time she feels weirdly violated. It's for his protection, she knows that, and she's sure there are plenty of enablers who'd encourage him to go back to cocaine, but she knows she can't be one of them.

She might have been, once upon a time, but not anymore.

"Hi," she says when she spots him inside, giving him a bright smile. "Holy shit, you look good."

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For the most part, it's been easier than he would have expected. If that's because he's actually taking it seriously this time around or what, T.J. doesn't know, but he'd thought it would be more difficult overall, not being around his friends, the people in Darrow he's come to care about. That isn't to say he likes it, but he gets it, the necessity in having some distance from the rest of his life, and it isn't as if he doesn't have plenty else to be focusing on.

It gets less so when he reads about that dancer, the one whom he's pretty sure he remembers being a friend of Lily's. Not enough to leave him distracted, to keep his mind off the task at hand or anything like that, but it just about kills him that he can't be there for her. It's one more reason why, when he gets the go-ahead to have visitors come, he wants to see her. He would have anyway, but this just makes it even more so.

Less nervous by far waiting for her than he was for Thomas, he grins when he catches sight of her, warm and almost relieved. "Tell me about it," he says, brow raising. "God, you're a sight for sore eyes."

The weeks have been difficult, but she's not even completely aware of just how difficult until she's crossing to T.J. and wrapping her arms around him. In a place like Darrow it's been hard to keep herself separate from others and now, in a very short period of time, she's lost two people who are important to her in some way and she presses her face against the curve of his neck for a moment, just breathing him in. T.J. won't be in here forever, but she still feels his absence very clearly.

"I've missed you," she says when she pulls back, giving him a smile as she reaches up to brush his hair back with one hand. "In case it wasn't obvious."

"I couldn't tell," T.J. says, clearly teasing, though there's something soft in the way he sounds, too. She isn't the only one for whom that's true, or, for that matter, the only one who's obvious about it. It's been far too long since he's seen her for anything else to be the case. Even if it hadn't been, he doubts he would have cared, but the circumstances here make him that much less inclined to pretend otherwise. Lifting his chin, he presses a kiss to her forehead. "I've missed you like crazy."

"Are you going crazy in here?" she asks with a grin when he kisses her, tipping her head back to better look at him. "I brought you a bunch of books and some updated magazines. I had no idea what they might already have for you in here, but I grabbed some music magazines the last time I was at the music store. And whatever counts as celebrity gossip in Darrow makes up another couple."

It's not nearly the same as picking up an issue of People back home, but it's entertaining in its way.

"I am absolutely losing my mind," T.J. says, half-joking. To an extent, it's true, but it isn't as if he's just sitting around doing nothing all the time, or, for that matter, like he didn't know what he was getting into. He's an old pro at this, though he's never been gone for this long before. He hasn't taken it seriously before, either. Actually focusing on what he's doing probably makes a lot of difference. Still, he's beyond grateful for the entertainment, grinning at her in turn. "You're amazing. I'll have to see how long I can make them last."

"Just let me know when I can come again and I'll bring you more," she promises, squeezing his arm gently and giving him a smile. She's been thinking a lot lately about what she'd said to that poor guy on crutches, the way she'd told him it's not such a terrible thing to let people in. If she can be here for T.J. it's fair to assume she can trust him enough to be here for her, too.

"I don't know how much outside news you get in here," she says, her smile fading a little. "But Nina died. She... killed herself, I guess." Even having seen the film, it's still hard for her to swallow.

T.J.'s expression grows more serious in turn, lips pressing together as he nods. He isn't surprised she's mentioned it, figured that what happened to Nina would come up sooner or later. Bad as he's felt, though, that's all the more potent now that she's here and talking about it. It's not as if he thinks he could have done much, but still, for all that he can't regret being here, he wishes he could've at least been there for her.

Some small part of him, too, feels absurdly guilty, though he knows there's no reason for it. Lily doesn't even know about that aspect of his past. Given how deeply his own suicide attempt is tied to how he landed in rehab this time, though — at least, in a way — it's something that's weighed on him even so.

"I heard," he says. "I'm so sorry. How are you doing?"

"Okay," she says, considering the question for a moment before she answers. She's trying to be more honest and while she doesn't think of herself as a particularly deceptive person, she knows she has a tendency to deflect certain questions, turn them back on other people and it would be especially easy here. T.J. is in a situation that would give her a perfect excuse not to talk about herself, but she really is trying.

"I feel guilty," she admits. "She came to be not long before it happened and said she was being followed. I... I know she was hallucinating before and now I'm wondering if I should have called someone, told someone she might hurt herself. I thought she was just being paranoid and now..." She trails off and shrugs. "Now she's dead."

"Hey, you couldn't have known what she was gonna do," T.J. says, reaching for her hand. It's such an easy thing to say, and he doubts it will even make all that much difference, but he can't not, either. As far as he can see, nothing else would be the truth. It's one thing to have known that she was troubled, that there was a lot going on, but even that doesn't necessarily mean that she was going to kill herself. Sometimes there just isn't any way to know. "From what little I got to read, it didn't sound like anyone did."

Maybe no one else did, but Lily should have known. "She'd done it once before," she admits, looking up, holding T.J.'s gaze when she says it even though she wants to look away. "It happened after I showed up on that island, but I found out about it. At the time she thought I was the one following her and trying to drive her crazy and she killed herself. She thought she was killing me."

Saying it out loud like that really drives home how much help Nina truly needed and Lily frowns slightly, then shakes her head. "But we'd become friends, I didn't think... I didn't want to believe she'd hurt herself again."

It's a difficult thing to try to make sense of, what she's saying, how she found out in the first place, but T.J. does his best to follow along, expression somber. While that might make it a little more complicated than it originally seemed, though, it isn't enough to change his opinion. She still couldn't have known what it would come to. Even if she'd tried to step in, there's only so much she could have done, anyway. Chances are, this might still have ended the same way.

"There's no crime in that," he says, smoothing his hands over her arms. "And you're never gonna be able to tell what was going on in her head."

"No," she agrees, because he's right. And yet no matter what anyone says, no matter what she might know is true, there's still a part of her that will always blame herself just a little. Despite that, she's surprised by how much even those few words can make her feel a little better. Although she's never been much of one for talking about how she feels, it does help.

"I guess I should start asking more questions instead of just making assumptions," she says with a little smile. "So are you really doing okay in here?"

"I feel half-insane, but... yeah, you know, I am," T.J. says with a slight nod, thoughtful, but sure. Difficult as it's been to be away from everyone for so long, he feels clear-headed now in a way he hasn't in a long time. That isn't without its downsides as well, the things it's brought to the surface no longer ones he can use substances to keep at bay. Maybe that's for the best, but it doesn't yet feel quite so simple in his head. He's self-medicated for far too long for that to be the case. "It's funny how much difference it makes when you actually try instead of just coasting through this."

"I guess wanting to get clean probably counts for a lot," Lily agrees with a gentle smile and she thinks it might actually be more difficult. Coasting is easy, coasting and knowing you're going to come out on the other side without anything else to worry about. But actually having to try, having to work and having to come out clean at the end of it, that has to be so much more difficult. She's never had to go through it herself, always sure to keep her drug and alcohol use at just the right level that no one's ever seemed to question her choices.

"Does it make it harder, too?" she asks. "If you're coasting, you're probably less worried about what happens after you're out again, huh?"

Brow raised, T.J. nods. Really, that's putting it mildly. It isn't as if it was all that easy before, but mostly, he was just biding his time, more concerned with when he could leave than what he did in the meantime. Even in trying to get sober, he never did as much as he should have. And though he knows he can't pin his own actions, his addiction, on his family, it couldn't have helped that he was all but set up for failure, being supported at the same time as being expected to fail. Here, all he's got are people on his side, Thomas and Lily and Eden and Steve, and that does him a world of good.

"Definitely," he says. "This is... I mean, it's not easy. And I was barely worried at all before. Not enough to do anything about it, anyway." He liked the way he felt when he was high. He hasn't quite stopped missing that yet, but then, he's still here for a reason. "You know, I haven't been more than six months sober since I was a kid."

Lily has to think back over her life and though she'd never consider her alcohol and drug use problematic, she has to admit she doesn't think there's been any period of longer than a few months that she's gone without using one or the other. Though she hasn't gotten high in probably six or seven months at this point, she's definitely been drunk in that time.

"You'll get there," she says, because he has a support system now. It's different, she thinks, with people who want you to do well. "And you'll get beyond that, too."

"Here's hoping," T.J. says, wry, though there's at least a bit more optimism in his voice than there would have been a month or two ago. However intent he might be on trying to get this right this time, though, he knows his own history, knows it's not as easy as just wanting to stay sober. About as much as he wants that, he wants not to disappoint the people in his life here, too. That might be easier if he doesn't make any promises. "But hey, once I get out of here, I'll be halfway there anyway, which'll probably help."

"And you've got us once you're home," she points out. "Despite all evidence to the contrary, I can be an excellent support system." Only when she really wants to be and if T.J. is here, then she has to be. The fact that his overdose ended with him in the hospital is something she has to take into consideration. Pushing him back toward drugs would only end in something terrible and although Lily wants people to have fun and let loose a little, though she thinks more people could stand to get a little high now and then, she knows there's a line.

And the truth is, she'd much rather have T.J. around for a long time to come than have him for only a very short period as someone to get high with. It's a selfish decision in a lot of ways, but she'll support him all the same.

"I would never have thought otherwise," T.J. says with a shake of his head, smiling crookedly at her. Granted, given the shit they've gotten up to together, she's not the first person he would have expected to see him through something like this, but more than she's been someone to get high with, she's been a good friend. He has no reason to think that she might send him back in the wrong direction. "I already don't know what I'd do without you."

She doesn't think she's done all that much, but she smiles anyway. At least she'd found someone to sublet his apartment, which she had promised to do, and at least it's a dancer she knows well staying there, someone who knows she won't be able to stay there for long. As soon as T.J. is ready, he'll be able to go home, she's made sure of that.

"How's Thomas doing?" she asks, tilting her head a little. "I haven't seen him much, but I assume he's been here a bunch."

"He hasn't been able to, actually," T.J. says. Technically speaking, he could have started having visitors sooner, but it was strongly recommended that he not for the first while, and he's been trying to do this right. It probably has helped him stay focused. Besides, he knows himself, and he knows what happened the last time he managed to get sober for any significant length of time. He can't tie his sobriety to Thomas like he did with Sean. To have had him around more might well have resulted in that happening. "I wasn't having anyone here until just a little while ago. But he's been writing me letters."

"That's sweet," she says, smiling. No one writes letter anymore, it's all texting and e-mailing and Lily is as guilty of that as anyone. It's nice hearing that Thomas has been writing to T.J., that they've been keeping in contact that way at least. "I wish someone would write my letters," she adds with a teasing nudge of her elbow. "I guess I'd have to see Delta less to make that as cute as it sounds, though."

"It is pretty cute," T.J. says, one corner of his mouth lifting higher. It's a lot more than that, really. The kind of things that Thomas says to him, no one else ever has who actually meant it. For all that he knows he has to be careful, he can't pretend that doesn't mean a great deal or go a long way. If he can keep his shit together, they just might, he thinks, have a chance of working out. "But yeah, wouldn't really be the same when it's someone you see all the time."

"I can't lie, I like getting laid regularly way too much to make the effort for that," she admits with a laugh, then nudges T.J. gently with her elbow. "You seem to be in pretty good spirits and it's really nice to see that." She'd worried about him, not that she's going to come right out and say as much. Though their relationship had begun in a relatively superficial manner, with getting high and dancing and sex, she can't pretend that it's stayed that way for either of them. She loves him, she wants the best for him, and she knows how happy Thomas makes him. She knows he needs to be clean to continue on in a positive way and she can support that.

"Well, you're here," T.J. points out with a grin, as much teasing as not. "How could I not be?" It's not like that's the only factor at hand here, but it also isn't as if he's in good spirits like this all the time, either. Being here, doing the work he has to, it's fucking hard, there's no way around that. But it'll ultimately be for the best. He has to believe that. With all the close calls he's had, he might very well be saving his own life. "Though, I don't know, keep talking about getting laid regularly and I'm not sure we can stay friends. Do you have any idea how much I miss sex?"

"I'm sorry," she says with a laugh, raising both her hands in a defensive gesture. "I won't say another word about it, I promise." Sometimes she does need to talk about it, though, if only because this is the longest in her life she's ever gone sleeping with the same person. It's been a very long time since she's even considered being with one single person exclusively and she thinks T.J. might at least understand why it's strange for her from time to time.

"You know after more than a year, I still haven't called Delta my boyfriend," she admits with a little wince. "How's that for taking your mind off sex? You can deconstruct my weird relationship issues."

"Oh, yeah, much better," T.J. says with a crooked, sympathetic smile, what sounds flippant, though it is pretty true. He might not be the best person to make sense of that shit, if only because the position he's in isn't a dissimilar one, but it sure as hell beats thinking about all the sex he hasn't been getting since he came out here. "What does he call you? Or has he put a word to it at all yet?"

"He doesn't call me anything," she says after thinking about it for a moment. "Maybe this is terrible of me to think, but because he doesn't have a lot of memories of a life before, he doesn't have a lot of expectations either, which has made avoiding naming it a lot easier." And it's not that she still wants to avoid it, but she certainly had at first. Now, though, she's no longer sure what she wants. She thinks of him as her boyfriend and she's said the word to T.J. now, though few others.

"I guess that makes sense," T.J. says, nodding. It's not something he has any experience with, of course, but he imagines that less exposure to that sort of thing would make it easier not to have specific expectations of what to do with this sort of thing. Then again, that seems like it could work for the best, too. It isn't like Lily is taking advantage of it — not, at least, to his read on the situation — but it'll be easier for them to figure shit out together this way. "Do you want to put a name on it, or are you fine with the way things are?"

"I'm never quite sure," she admits, which is a lot for her to say. Lily's been sure of most things her entire life; she's confident and she's self assured and she makes decisions easily, but it's also been a very long time since she's let herself get this deeply involved with a person. And it isn't entirely self-preservation, she hasn't had her heart so badly broken that she's shut herself off, but it had been easier this way for a long time. Much more fun.

"It's been a long time since I've been in an exclusive relationship," she says with a laugh. "The last time was... Jesus, I was probably nineteen and she got pissed after about eight months because dancing took up so much of my time."

Unable to help himself, T.J. lets out a laugh at that, shaking his head. He can't say he's entirely surprised. Though he's never had anything that kept him so busy — if anything, the opposite was the case, which was probably part of his problem — relationships just haven't been his cup of tea, or something he was very good at. Even when he tried, it didn't work out well. It's part of why he's so fucking worried this still isn't going to work out with Thomas. It's also why his smile softens somewhat before he speaks again.

"I ever tell you about the closest thing to a relationship I had before Thomas?" he asks, though he's pretty sure he hasn't. The subject is one he's made a point of steering clear of for a reason. Now he doesn't think he should try to hide it.

"We didn't do a lot of talking about our past or our relationships," she points out with a smile, though she doesn't think she needs to answer his question at all. She cares about T.J. a great deal, more than she cares about most people, but part of what's been so easy about having a relationship with him is that they've never asked any hard questions.

"Are you going to tell me now?" she asks, propping her chin up on her hand. "I told you mine."

"His name was Sean," T.J. says, already a little wry. It's the only way he can really talk about it, short of how it all came out when he was in the hospital, providing Thomas with an explanation for those stupid fucking photographs. "He was a Republican congressman from Ohio, and he was married with two kids. We had an affair for six months." He huffs out a laugh. "Not so coincidentally, those six months were the longest time I've been sober since I was a teenager. And somehow I got it into my head that he was going to leave her and stay with me."

"And he had other plans," Lily says, her head tilted slightly before she reaches over, brushing her fingers gently through T.J.'s hair. She'd been there, too, married men, but she'd never wanted them to leave their wives and the thrill of it had faded once she'd seen one of them at the ballet with his wife and kids.

"Did it end badly?" she asks. Affairs like that usually do, someone is always hurt at the end of it and she hates to think that the person hurt in this case would have been T.J., but she doesn't really see any other way it could have gone.

"It ended with him being blackmailed by the Vice President into changing his vote on a bill so no one would find out about us," T.J. says with a crooked smile that he doesn't quite feel. It is kind of funny, but in a sick sort of way, just for how well it fits with the rest of his life. Of course the one thing resembling a relationship he had would fall apart because of political bullshit. There's never been any escaping it, not for as far back as he can remember. "And then with him back in Ohio with the wife and kids, and me in the hospital."

He can't tell her about what he tried to do, or how a part of him has never stopped wishing that his mother hadn't gotten home when she did and found him there in the garage. Not, at least, given what she's so recently been through. It's not like the story doesn't still make sense without that detail, though. "I relapsed in a big way."

Lily nods her understanding and it doesn't entirely surprise her to hear him say any of this, but it causes something in her chest to tighten all the same. She hates to think of him like that, left alone in a hospital, abandoned by someone who's supposed to love him, by someone who probably did love him and found himself in a bad situation with few choices.

"That's shitty," she says, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "And I'm sorry that happened to you."

Hand curled around Lily's, T.J. gives her a thin smile. A part of him almost wishes he'd had someone like her in his life back home, rather than just his ever-disappointed family and the people he got high with, the guys he fucked once and never saw again. It wouldn't have made any difference, he's sure, having had to at least start accepting that the nature of the disease doesn't work that way, and that he can't foist any of the responsibility off on other people, but it would have helped. It's a hell of a lot better than his mother's lack of sympathy and his father calling it a stunt, anyway.

"I can't say it's why all this happened here, but it was kind of the tipping point," he admits. "It was around that time of year anyway — remember when I said I hated Christmas? — but then I found the pictures they used to blackmail him with. One of those things from home, you know? And I just went off the rails."

Edited 2014-04-11 10:14 (UTC)

She nods, knowing what he's talking about, although she's never had anything from home show up and upset her that badly. There was only the things from the island, Sawyer's things, and it hadn't been such a terrible thing to discover in her bag that day. She wonders if it's because she's moved around so often, danced with so many different companies, refused to stay anywhere long enough or make any real connections. There's nothing this place can send to her to upset her because there's nothing back there she thinks of that much.

She's never sure if that's a good or bad thing.

"It's like this place can't quite leave something alone," she says with a bit of a humourless laugh. "It has to find a weakness and try to exploit the shit out of it."

"Yep," T.J. says with a short nod of his own, letting out a dry laugh. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it would have happened anyway, I'm sure, it just... sped things up a lot." At least this, he thinks, is progress, owning his part in it rather than just blaming some external factor. Back home, he would never have managed this. "At least the pictures had a date on them. I can't imagine what it would have looked like to Thomas otherwise."

"You would have explained and he would have listened," she says, sure of that. She doesn't know Thomas well, but she knows he cares about T.J. and sometimes, no matter how hurt a person is, they want to believe the best of the people they love. She can see how it would have been hard if there hadn't been the date, but she thinks they would have made it through.

"If he stuck around long enough for that," T.J. says, though he knows that's not entirely fair. It's never really that simple, and some people have the capacity to stay far longer than they should. Maybe Thomas would have given him the benefit of the doubt. Or maybe it would have crashed and burned, like everything in his life has a tendency to, one more reason to be grateful to have a friend like Lily around. "But I won't have to find out either way. That's something."

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