betterthanaplan | The galley of the Cape Rouge, Thursday evening

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The galley of the Cape Rouge, Thursday evening

Duke had had some time since his last therapist appointment to start slowly processing what his therapist had said. Specifically what the man had said about what he believed was the foundation of Duke's issues. A diagnosis if you will.

Which Duke had finally made time to look up and read about after getting home from the diner. And mull over over a cup of tea.

Sure, it wasn't the first time someone had suggested that he had PTSD. He'd kind of just assumed he had that, by now. But C-PTSD. The complex version. The one most associated with survivors of hostage situations or child abuse.

He sipped his tea and stared into space. And wished it didn't make as much sense to him as it did. Wished he didn't check off quite as many of the usual symptoms as he did.

"Fuck."

[for the partners if they wanna]

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"And I am trying to tell you she wants to tell you about the sex," Lucifer told him frankly. "She feels like she can't because you keep talking over her about how left out you feel and what you'd rather be doing. A bit like telling me you prefer ropes right after I lay out a carefully-negotiated plan to help bring you into that part of our relationship."

“I caught myself on that one,” Duke pointed out. He leaned back in his seat and sighed.

“That’s not how the ‘left out’ thing came up. We’d touched on you two, yeah, but the conversation had moved on. She was —“ He cut himself off with a grimace and rephrased it. “— I remember thinking she was criticizing me. That she thought I was weak, so she wouldn’t tell me things. About her trouble, not sex stuff. That’s when I said I felt left out. The sex stuff came up again, but that wasn’t what I was focused on.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. He’d ultimately felt that had been one of their more successful conversations of late, but she’d turned to Lucifer with it. Which felt like more being left out.

“I hate not being told things, especially’ for my own good’. But like. That’s why I asked you to see if you could tell me: I was trying to respect that she didn’t want to. But then I’m getting —“ another cut off “— I feel like I’m getting — a lecture on going too fast and expecting too much. For just wanting to see if I could hear about some things.”

A beat.

“. . . And also asking for a little of my current preferred kink to be in the mix too. Which is gauche, but I am a sailor.”

Lucifer leaned back, a subconscious mirroring of Duke. "The reason I have been pushing back on you here," he said, searching for a delicate sort of phrasing he did not feel he was good at, "is because I think you are thinking about this from the wrong angle, and it's leading to a number of unforced errors."

Had he mentioned he wished he had a drink right now?

"I understand that you feel left out. That you are doing your best, and it is frustrating when that best does not get you the reaction you were hoping for," he said. "The problem is that you are doing the best you think you should be doing, not what we're actually telling you we'd prefer. The sex is a good example. I am offering you a chance to see, experience, and understand this part of her, so you can explore it with her - and with me - in whatever way works best for the two of you later. And yet your immediate first thought is to ask about how you can make it more about what you like."

Duke shook his head. “Yeah, I get you want me to be better. That you think that I think too much. But you’re so busy telling me what you think my reaction should have been, it’s like you’re not listening to what I’m saying now.”

He looked at Lucifer. “I am hurt. I’m trying to tell you about it instead of continuing to push it down. And I’m not going to apologize for asking for something I would like in a sex scene I am supposed to participate in.”

Right, now Lucifer wanted a drink just so he could throw it.

"Duke," Lucifer said slowly, "I have acknowledged that you feel hurt. Much like, as far as I'm aware, Octavia has acknowledged that you feel hurt. I don't know what else you want me to bloody say besides 'yes, all of your proposed solutions for this are correct'."

“You acknowledged it? Or you said ‘okay but’ and then tried to explain why I shouldn’t be? Because the second one is what I’m hearing. And it’s not helping.”

"How am I telling you you shouldn't be?!" Lucifer snapped, exasperated. "I am trying to tell you how we can get to a place where you aren't! Just like Octavia has been, as far as I know! But you just keep coming back 'round to 'I'm hurt' and yes, we know, that's why we're trying to fix it, in a way that takes everyone's bloody feelings into consideration."

Edited 2024-12-21 09:04 (UTC)

“Because that’s all you’re saying!” Duke was getting close to tears. “We were just talking about how I need to feel safe to recover. I don’t right now. Whether you think that’s rational or not, you continuing to push your solution of ‘don’t think so much and stop being selfish’ is clearly not helping!”

Edited 2024-12-21 09:23 (UTC)

"That's not what I'm--"

Lucifer reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Yes, he was starting to see why Octavia was so twisted up about this now. "Well, I'm sorry for making you feel that way," he attempted.

Duke took a long breath, arms around his middle now.

“Thank you.”

He ducked his head, riding the wave of shame that came with realizing how hard he’d been freaking out.

“I’m sorry I yelled.”

Lucifer expelled a breath. "I'm sorry if I got a bit... shirty... along the way," he also offered.

Duke huffed softly. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.” He ran his hand through his hair — gently this time. “And, uh. I know I can sound pretty crazy right now.”

"You're not crazy, love," Lucifer said, watching him a touch longer. "We just... appear to be having different conversations. And I'm not sure what happened."

A pause.

"Can you walk me through what happened?"

“. . . No?” Duke said. “I told you what it sounded like from my end, Luce. I was angry, but I wasn’t making that up. You and Octavia, you found some kind of . . . shorthand or something. And I’m just not there.”

"Right," Lucifer said slowly. "But I didn't intend to say the things you heard me say, so I am trying to understand where this went wrong."

Edited 2024-12-21 18:25 (UTC)

“I’m not trying to be a dick here. And I’m not stupid. But I can’t tell you what went wrong, man. Not any clearer than I’ve already tried.” He was tearing up again, but doing his best to breathe through it. “I know I . . . broke your trust. But I think this goes deeper than that. You — it feels like you keep trying to fix me.”

Lucifer wanted to point out that it felt like Duke kept making unforced errors, and that it seemed obvious why, and that he just wanted to explain it to Duke clearly enough so he'd stop hurting himself (and them) so frequently. But that clearly hadn't helped. So.

He didn't.

He just had no idea how to address this otherwise.

"Okay," he said. "I see. That was not my intention."

Edited 2024-12-21 18:48 (UTC)

“I know,” Duke said. “But you weren’t listening when I tried to tell you. You just — doubled down and told me that I was wrong.” His voice broke a little on the last word. “I wasn’t trying to talk about right or wrong. I just wanted to tell you how I felt.”

Lucifer took a deep breath. He let it slip out of him slowly. (It hurt seeing Duke like this.)

"I'm sorry," he said. "I thought-- well. I thought we all already know how you feel, so let's make it better, I thought. Clearly not my greatest of calls."

Duke nodded back. He still wasn’t sure Lucifer got it — but Lucifer probably felt the same about him.

“I don’t . . . actually know if I’m ready for a full scene with you two,” he admitted very softly. “That’s why I asked about just hearing about it. You and Octavia keep talking about what a giant thing this is for her — Luce, I didn’t even know you two were doing things like that until you showed me her room. At this point, I just want to learn about it. How was I supposed to know it was such a big thing for her if neither of you say so until you’re telling me I’m handling it wrong?”

"I... Assumed," Lucifer said slowly, "That considering you used to do these things with her, and Octavia is so... Octavia, you would understand how complicated this is." He met Duke's gaze. "That isn't an accusation. It just didn't occur to me that you knew that little."

Edited 2024-12-21 19:47 (UTC)

“That was years ago,” Duke said, shaking his head. “Both of us are different people now. And she’s never seemed to want to talk to me openly about any of it. Not the bunker, not her therapy, not even her damn trouble. And of course when we finally do I fuck it up, I’m fucked up.”

He wanted to pace again, but worried if he did he’d start yelling. So he curled in on himself instead.

“So I flinch. And she freezes. And we never talk about it again. How am I supposed to know that’s not forever if she doesn’t tell me?”

Ah. There was the real frustration. This was , if not the heart, a major artery of the problem.

"Now there," Lucifer said slowly, "Is a complicated question."

He looked up at the window.

"Octavia and I didn't develop shorthand in a day," he said. "In fact, we adopted the stoplight system to help deal with some of our communication failures."

“So we need to work on that ourselves,” Duke said. “I‘ve been rushing to try to catch up — and you two are seeing it as me going too fast.”

"We want you to be a part of this," Lucifer said quietly. "It's just-- do you know how the ropes make you feel? It's not just about sex, is it?"

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