[He puts down his glass on the table, frowning as he leans back against the pillows. He's intensely grateful for that, for how Lark had helped him then, how calm and collected he'd stayed while Tommy purged everything from his system.
But he doesn't think he can do that for someone else. Maybe not even Lark himself, if he asked.]
Just research. Behind the scenes things. If you wanted to come to the group that would be one thing--and you can, obviously. You're always welcome.
[But Lark is pretty sure there are no wardens who would show up. Which is fine. Better than fine.]
I've just never run a group like that before, where I had to talk and tell them things. I need someone I can bounce ideas off of. Someone who's heard a lot of what I know, and can tell me if any of it is actually useful.
[It's not about admitting to the fact that he'd used the opium- although that's something, too, that he would find very difficult, because he hasn't just used it, he'd needed it. But coming there and- he doesn't even know what that would entail, but coming there and talking about himeslf would mean putting focus on himself that seems unnecessary. The inmates didn't come here to heal Tommy, to make him feel better.
So he's quite visibly hesitant to agree, but the idea of helping behind the scenes... He might be able to do that. If it could help Lark help someone else.]
I've no experience with the kind of group you're describing.
They offer a place for people to talk about their mistakes and their successes, to figure out their hot buttons and how to avoid pushing them. To vent, to celebrate.
And to learn how to handle something that's going to sit on their back forever. Which is where I come in, and where I need you.
You've only been clean a few months. It's going to feel like you're hanging on by your teeth for a long time. I'm too removed from it. I remember that it was hell, but I had a pack, I had new blood in me, and it was a long time ago.
How can I relate to the people here, going through what you're going through right now? The fact you make it through each day without asking the Admiral for more is the sort of thing people could benefit from.
[Put like that it makes sense, and it shows clearly on his face that he understands why Lark is asking him. It does feel like he's hanging on by his teeth- which is why he's drinking, right now, and awake, and trying to focus on fucking feminist literature at 2 am.]
Fine. I can try.
[If it'll help others, he thinks- God, he must be going soft.]
If I told you, you'd lose your sense of wonder about me. [He holds
up a half-empty box of them; they're actually left over from Alec, of
course. No one loves junk food like Alec.]
I haven't found a worthy painter yet. How are you with a brush?
[When he arrives the coffee is, indeed, going; Tommy's standing by his little stove, smoking calmly, and looks up when Lark comes in. He looks tired, but happier for seeing Lark, honestly.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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But he doesn't think he can do that for someone else. Maybe not even Lark himself, if he asked.]
What do you need my help with?
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[But Lark is pretty sure there are no wardens who would show up. Which is fine. Better than fine.]
I've just never run a group like that before, where I had to talk and tell them things. I need someone I can bounce ideas off of. Someone who's heard a lot of what I know, and can tell me if any of it is actually useful.
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So he's quite visibly hesitant to agree, but the idea of helping behind the scenes... He might be able to do that. If it could help Lark help someone else.]
I've no experience with the kind of group you're describing.
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And to learn how to handle something that's going to sit on their back forever. Which is where I come in, and where I need you.
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[He falters, frowns, and picks his glass back up to toy with the rim.]
I barely keep it together most days, Lark. I don't know how I could give advice to you about that.
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How can I relate to the people here, going through what you're going through right now? The fact you make it through each day without asking the Admiral for more is the sort of thing people could benefit from.
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Fine. I can try.
[If it'll help others, he thinks- God, he must be going soft.]
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[It's such a casual word, but said so seriously.]
Do you have company?
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[There's a smile tugging at his mouth, though, and he shakes his head.]
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[He winks at him]
Sleep over? I can't sleep, either.
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You'd best come here, though. Yours depresses me.
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[He grins and jumps up, gathering a couple of things]
I'm bringing donuts. Any other requests?
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Re: private;
If I told you, you'd lose your sense of wonder about me. [He holds up a half-empty box of them; they're actually left over from Alec, of course. No one loves junk food like Alec.]
I haven't found a worthy painter yet. How are you with a brush?
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Alright, bring 'em over. Ah- coffee? [It's hard being friends with a teetotaler.]
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A lot of coffee, please. I'll be over in a minute.
[It doesn't take him long.]
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Alright?
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[It's late, and Lark's body is tired even if his mind is too lit up to let it sleep. He does some of his best work this way.
And he smells coffee, and he has chocolate-covered donuts to share. That always helps.]
What's keeping you up?
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Same thing as usual. You?