onebehind | magician's apprentice | been a hell of a ride but I'm thinking it's time to grow

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magician's apprentice | been a hell of a ride but I'm thinking it's time to grow

Dylan knew, coming out of the hospital if not going in, that getting sober wasn't going to be easy. He knew he'd have bad days and good days and days in between, and every therapist he's seen since then, every meeting he's been to has only reaffirmed that. They'd also armed him with a bag of tricks to deal with everything and everything in between, but -- well, today is one of the bad ones and nothing is helping. He's been pacing the house like a madman for the better part of the day, trying to find something to hold his attention long enough that he can stop thinking about running down to the nearest liquor store. He needs to get out of his skin. He's just shy of calling his sponsor. He needs to get out of the house.

He needs to get out of the house.

Stopping midway through moving a pile of books from one side of the living room to the other, he latches onto that idea and turns it over in his head. He needs to get out of the house.

He's moving again a second later, though this time, it's with a purpose, a clarity he hasn't felt like he's had in hours, days, weeks. He goes to Jack's room, tapping lightly on the door, and then after a beat and once he's been invited in, sticks his head in. Flashing him a smile that's equal parts reassuring and strained (he's fine, they're fine, this is nothing bad, he's just a little jittery, don't mind him), he tells him, "Hey. Pack your shit."

He has an idea. It'll be good for both of them.

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Dylan hums, accepting of that, and follows Jack's gaze back to the track. After a beat, he returns his attentions to Jack, shrugging. "We can bring a camera, next time we're out here. I probably should've thought of that, when I told you to pack your shit."

He'd been too worried about whether Jack would actually like it out here to think that he might want to take pictures, however.

"Yeah, if you'd actually told me where we were going, I might've thought of that," he teases with a crooked grin, because he's not actually mad about Dylan making this is a surprise. It's a really awesome surprise, after all.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," he shoots back, making a face at him. It was also kind of spur of the moment, and he hadn't really been thinking when they'd left the house. Either way, there's not much real heat behind his sourness, and to that end, he asks, "You want me to tell you what I'm getting you for Christmas, too, huh Mister I-Apparently-Hate-Surprises?"

"I don't actually hate surprises," Jack says over his shoulder - but a moment later, something in his side of the connection shifts, because well. Maybe he does, considering it's been a very long time since he's had a good surprise. "But, uh..."

And now he's thrown himself off, and he frowns, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. Shoot.

Dylan frowns, too, though any sourness inherent in it is directed at himself. He hadn't meant to upset Jack; he'd only been teasing. He hadn't thought about the fact that the joke might be in bad taste, though he absolutely is now, even if he's not likely to actually tell Jack what he's getting for Christmas.

"Sorry," he offers, gently.

Jack takes a deep breath and huffs it out again, turning fully away from looking over the bones of the rollercoaster to face Dylan. "No, it's... you're like... the opposite of who should be apologizing," he says bluntly, because Dylan's done nothing like what the others that have ruined things for him did. "I like good surprises? But you know how people have sucked."

It looks like it's a struggle for him to find and get the words out, but he's trying his best to open up to Dylan, considering everything Dylan has already done for him.

"Yeah, I know," he tells him, gently. He knows and he knows that's still a sore spot for Jack, and maybe that's what he was apologizing for -- not anything he, personally, has done, but everything every other shitty person in Jack's life has. God knows they won't be lining up to say they're sorry, after all. God knows Jack didn't deserve any of the shit he went through in the first place.

Either way and rather than try and explain that, he reaches for Jack slowly, gently. He figures both of them could use a hug.

Jack meets him halfway, feeling the hug coming through the connection. Considering the mood Dylan's been dealing with, they can definitely both use it.

He hugs him back for a long moment before stepping back. "Thanks, Dad."

They absolutely can and he holds Jack for as long as he'll let him, soaking in the contact and the comfort that comes with it as much as he offers it to Jack.

When they step back, he nods, humming, "Yeah." A beat. "Anyway, uh ... "

It's up to Jack, still, whether they move on to the warehouse proper or if he wants to keep exploring the graveyard.

Jack steps back, turning to glance back at the bones of the rollercoaster before he turns his attention to the sky. "I guess we should probably like.. unload the car and stuff before it gets dark?"

He would like to keep looking around, yes, but considering it was nearing sunset when they got here, he doesn't know how much light they have left and how the lighting situation might be, considering how abandoned the place normally is.

The lighting situation is pretty nonexistent, save for around the warehouse itself, and that in mind, Dylan nods as he steps back, too.

"Might not be a bad idea," he agrees, glancing back at the car. After a beat, he turns to head in that direction, expecting Jack to follow. "You can poke around some more, tomorrow morning or whatever." The interior of the warehouse should keep him busy until then.

Jack does follow, jogging a few steps to keep up with him. "That works," he agrees - because he will absolutely be looking around some more, considering how much more he guesses there is to see.

"So, uh..." he begins as they head back to the car. "Guessing it's been a while since you've been out here?"

Unless he's come at some point that Jack doesn't know about.

"It's been -- " He hesitates, trying to do the math in his head as he climbs back behind the wheel. It doesn't take him too long to give up, shaking his head. He's not sure he can remember the last time he was out here. " -- it's been awhile, yeah."

A beat.

"Sorry, if there's dust and shit on everything?" Never mind the fact that the warehouse itself takes care of that.

Jack shrugs as he settles back into his seat, pulling the door closed behind him. "I'm not worried about dust and stuff?"

He's really not, either. If it was gross, it might be one thing, but he can deal with it just being a little dusty.

"Just figured I'd warn you," Dylan answers, shrugging as he starts the car again.

It's not long after that that they're pulling up to the warehouse proper, and once Dylan stops the car again, he moves for the trunk, to get their luggage. Settling his bag onto his shoulder, he waits for Jack to do the same, then heads for the door. It doesn't seem to be locked, and maybe that's not surprising, but either way, Dylan pulls it open easily and holds it for Jack, wanting him to go first.

He nods towards the door, if that's not clear enough.

Jack just mirrors the shrug, turning his attention back out the window as Dylan turns the car back on. He leans forward a little to look up at the warehouse as they park before climbing out and moving to grab his bag.

Jack isn't particularly surprised that it's not locked, considering how out in the middle of nowhere they are, and he moves past Dylan into the building. His curiosity and excitement is obvious through the connection - if Dylan hadn't already figured that out based on his reaction to the skeleton of the coaster.

Fluorescent lights kick on, the second Jack passes into the room, too much, too bright for an instant. Dylan mutters something caught between a swear and an apology as he steps in behind him, pulling the door closed. And as their eyes adjust, a workbench becomes apparent, near the back of the room, along with a collection of rigs, covered over with drop cloths, lining the path back towards it. Oddly, however, none of it seems particularly dusty or disused, despite Dylan's warnings -- or the fact that he hasn't been here in awhile.

"You can look around, if you want." Dylan trusts him not to break anything.

Jack flinches back as the lights kick on, squinting for a moment before his eyes adjust and he takes in the room. "Whoa," he breathes, because this is exactly what he would imagine a magician's workshop to look like - though maybe with a few additional rabbits, though the general disuse of the place would be a problem for them.

He heads toward the closest rig, looking it over, trying to see what it was for and how it might have worked without actually getting up close and personal with it.

"This was all your dad's?" he asks after a few minutes, looking back to Dylan.

"Most of 'em," Dylan answers, nodding. He looks away, seeking something closer to the workbench, and when he finds it, nods to a rig there. "A couple of them, up there, are mine, but ... "

He shrugs. Like he said, most of them are Lionel's; he's never actually gotten the chance to use the ones he's come up with, on stage.

Jack turns to watch where Dylan is pointing - and then turns back to Dylan again, eyes wide. "Yours? You mean you actually did some stuff?"

He doesn't mean that in the sense that Dylan might have just been saying he was into magic; more that he would be even more impressed with Dylan to know he had actually gotten to be on stage.

That's a dream he hasn't even considered for himself at this point.

He might also have been able to get the answer to that out of their connection, but he's a little distracted by his own excitement and curiosity.

"Ah, no," Dylan answers, a little embarrassed all at once. He hates to rain on Jack's parade; he wishes he had had a chance to get on stage. His whole life has been about distancing himself from magic, at least publicly, so there's no way he could have had a career in the business -- not if he still wants his revenge.

(He's careful to guard his reasoning there, if only because he might try and involve Jack, later, if he's old enough when the time comes.)

"I just like to build shit," he continues after a beat. "Maybe, sometime, I'll pass my designs along to another magician, be someone's ingenieur or whatever, but ... " He shrugs.

Jack is a little disappointed, but it seems to be more for Dylan than anything else - and then he shrugs, too. "That's still cool, though." He likes puzzles and locks and that sort of thing, but anything too big is a little beyond him. "What kind of tricks are they for? Or is that, like... trade secret shit?"

He grins crookedly, eyes bright.

Dylan studies him for a moment, like they may just be trade secrets but he's considering the merits of letting Jack in on them, anyway. Whether or not that's true, when the moment passes, he shrugs again, and turns away from Jack, scanning the room. When he seems to find what he's looking for -- one of the rigs, still covered by a cloth -- he heads for it. He puts a hand on it, but doesn't move to pull the cloth away, just yet.

"This's was one of Dad's, from when before he really made it big." A beat. "You know how a ZigZag Girl Illusion works?

Jack watches him - and then moves to follow when he heads for the rig. He tilts his head thoughtfully at the question, trying to put the name together with a visual. "Is that the one where, like... the magician, like... sticks metal plates in and then pulls the boxes apart or whatever?"

There are some hand motions to go along with that that do seem to indicate he knows what trick Dylan's talking about.

"Uh... is that one two people? I know most of the ones that involve cutting people in half have a second person in the rig."

"It is, yeah," Dylan confirms, Jack right on both counts. He hesitates for a minute, looking between Jack, the rig and back again, thoughtfully, before, "Pretty sure you could saw me in half, if you wanna try."

He's not so small as the average magician's assistant, but he still thinks he could make it work. The fact that he's offering to let Jack touch something of his father's, period, is a big step.

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