I don't care, Enoch! If he apologized it would be different, but he hasn't and he won't, so he's still a jerk and I'm still angry. You apologizing for him is just about feeling bad for what he did and I'm really not interested in that right now.
[It comes out sharper than he intends and he brings himself to stop, putting his hands up to his face.]
Wow. Okay. I'm sorry. I didn't-- I don't mean to be like that.
[If he points out that Flynn doesn't know that he won't, that he's trying to talk to him about it, it'll just be fuel for that particular fire, won't it? Also, that is entirely the wrong thing to focus on - making this more about Beckett than it is, when trying to offer support to Flynn takes priority. So, no. That will have to wait. As much as he doesn't like to see this rift his friends have carved out between them, he can't do anything about it yet.]
It's all right. You're hurting, I can't blame you. Yes, I do feel bad for it, but most importantly for your pain, and I'd like to help, if I can.
Of course. Would talking help with that? About Peter, or his music, or...anything at all, really. Giving voice to my problems or putting them on paper, if I have it to spare, sometimes helps.
[He doesn't begrudge Flynn his emotions, of course. He's been there. He's been so raw with grief he's lashed out at people who didn't deserve it, at people he loves. A lot more often than not, now, as the years have gone by and brought more grief with them. How can he be angry when someone else does it?]
[How could he even begin to explain? That he never had a friend like Peter before coming here? That twenty years of fake memories and their imaginary fallouts – with no memory of one of them having actually died – just made it so much worse?
That staying on the line, listening to him freeze to death and trying to ease him through it had been too much on so many levels?]
[He'd be exactly the same if it were, well...Beckett. That's not a thought that gets to be aired. Even sleep-deprived, some bad ideas are just glaringly bad.]
I'm sorry. I think I should have let you be from the start.
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[It comes out sharper than he intends and he brings himself to stop, putting his hands up to his face.]
Wow. Okay. I'm sorry. I didn't-- I don't mean to be like that.
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It's all right. You're hurting, I can't blame you. Yes, I do feel bad for it, but most importantly for your pain, and I'd like to help, if I can.
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I just need a little time to... process.
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[He doesn't begrudge Flynn his emotions, of course. He's been there. He's been so raw with grief he's lashed out at people who didn't deserve it, at people he loves. A lot more often than not, now, as the years have gone by and brought more grief with them. How can he be angry when someone else does it?]
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[How could he even begin to explain? That he never had a friend like Peter before coming here? That twenty years of fake memories and their imaginary fallouts – with no memory of one of them having actually died – just made it so much worse?
That staying on the line, listening to him freeze to death and trying to ease him through it had been too much on so many levels?]
It's just too sad.
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[A quiet sigh. He has this feeling he's definitely done something he shouldn't have, but isn't rested enough to put his finger on it.]
If there's ever anything I can do, know that I'll do my best to fulfill it.
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[Flynn pauses when new tears threaten to come and it takes him a moment to continue.]
I appreciate it. I'm just having a really bad day.
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[He'd be exactly the same if it were, well...Beckett. That's not a thought that gets to be aired. Even sleep-deprived, some bad ideas are just glaringly bad.]
I'm sorry. I think I should have let you be from the start.
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I don't want to take it out on you.
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Of course. Take care of yourself, Flynn.
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