betterthanaplan | Aboard the OceaNyx, Wednesday afternoon

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Aboard the OceaNyx, Wednesday afternoon

History said that the weirdness in town had probably abated by now, but Duke and his partners had quietly agreed to stay at sea a bit longer. Let things with them settle a bit more, before inviting Fandom chaos back in.

Unfortunately, Fandom chaos wasn't the only kind they had to worry about.

Duke had been feeling increasingly ill as the days went by, and by Wednesday morning, he heaved himself over to the wheel only to pretty much collapse into his seat, panting.

How could just existing be this draining??

[for those on the boat with him, and slow play. NFB due to distance.]

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Octavia nodded. More for the fact that they were now approaching this from a better angle than anything else.

"Maybe you can learn?" she offered. She really hoped he could, actually.

Lucifer shrugged. He was already out of suggestions.

“Maybe,” Duke agreed softly. “I hope so.”

He reached for her hand.

Octavia reached hers out to meet his.

And the second it did, it was as if an electric current rushed through her, only worse: a pain so intense it knocked the legs out from underneath her, sending her falling to the floor with a strangled noise.

Along with the glass of juice that she'd still been holding in her other hand a second ago.

Lucifer's eyes widened. "Octavia!" he cried, running to her side in an instant.

Duke jerked his hand back as soon as Octavia reacted, wrapping his arms around his chest, hands in his armpits.

Well. That answered that.

That was the second thing that hit Octavia, right on the heels of the pain:

How this was going to make Duke feel.

"Found the trouble," she said, hoarse and weaker than she wanted to sound. Trying not to sound rattled.

And willing the wetness by her arm to be spilled juice instead of blood from some cut, because she had no idea what had happened to the glass, and could not feel any specific hurt through the full-body ache that lingered past the initial shock.

"Are you all right?" Lucifer said.

His fingers had already settled on the arm she'd held the glass with, searching for any cuts or bruises.

Duke watched them, chewing his lip. Trying not to think about how Lucifer could touch Octavia now and he couldn’t.

"Yeah," Octavia breathed, even though she wasn't sure if she was. She was still on the floor, but now that the ache was slowly dissipating, she moved to try and at least sit up. Desperate to show Duke it wasn't as bad as it had looked.

Of course, she didn't even realize how she was still half-panting from the shock.

On the bright side, while there was probably going to be some bruising, luckily there weren't any cuts.

Lucifer nodded slowly, concern still in his eyes. "I'll... clean up," he said, stretching back up.

He walked to a cabinet to rifle around, to find a dustpan.

She was breathless and shaky and Duke knew how painful Jordan’s trouble had been.

He watched Octavia with a miserable smile.

“Sorry.”

Octavia could probably have used some help sitting up, but she was spinning Lucifer leaving her side into a good thing: yet one more chance to pretend she was fine.

(She didn't look fine, but she made it upright.)

She shook her head, slowly and carefully, meeting Duke's gaze. "You didn't want this."

She was, perhaps, doing too good of a job at playing it off as okay. Because Lucifer hadn't realized she needed the help.

He returned with a dustpan, kneeling down by her side to start sweeping up the shards. "So what do we know about this particular trouble?"

Duke hugged himself tighter, unable to take his eyes off Octavia. Unable to stop thinking about how she’d convulsed before going down, the pain on her face —

No wonder Jordan was always so angry. So bitter.

“Jordan’s trouble,” he said softly. “She was like a human taser. Anyone she touched . . . hurt.”

Octavia was just going to hang out on the floor for as bit, though acting fine was getting to be less and less an act, thankfully.

"That one sentient blood puddle didn't like it either," she added. It was the main thing she'd actually seen in person before, after all.

Until this time.

"And what emotion triggers it?" said Lucifer.

Somehow, he still assumed this stuff all worked by the same rules.

Duke shrugged. It was an extra-awkward movement with his hands so firmly tucked away. “She never got past it.”

"That won't be you," Octavia said. Promised? Said.

"We'll figure it out," Lucifer agreed, stretching up with the dustpan. "There has to be some kind of lever somewhere."

Duke let out a noncommittal hum.

(Audrey had never figured out Nathan's trigger, either.)

"In the meantime . . . guess I'm not sleeping naked anymore."

There wasn't enough room on this boat for them to not share a bed. Not unless he decided to sleep on the deck.

Octavia shook her head. "You can sleep however you like," she said, softly but like she meant it. "I can... figure something out."

There was a lot of that about, wasn't there? Figuring things out.

Lucifer sighed. "Or I could just lay in the middle," he pointed out. "I'm big enough to make a decent barrier."

And Duke's trouble didn't seem to do anything to him.

He was not going to think about that too hard.

That was fine, Duke could do the thinking too much about that for the both of them.

(Lucifer was no longer vulnerable to him. Or was it just because this was a trouble and he wasn't vulnerable to those? Or Lucifer didn't trust him, which made sense, because Duke was a fuck up and maybe he shouldn't be trusted --)

"I can wear pajamas," he said. "I should -- get used to being covered. Just in case."

"Okay," Octavia said, softly, even though it was still pretty clear she wanted to argue.

She just didn't want anyone else to hurt right now.

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