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These days his mind is a fucking mess.
It helps that he can tell Spike about it, about all the shit that keeps coming up, the memories that rise and then fall, growing in clarity before fading again. It helps so fucking much that he has an outlet, but at the same time, he knows there are other people he needs to talk to. Especially after the way he was with them during that weird, fucked up week he spent as a god.
No, scratch that, he's always been that god. He just hadn't known it.
He should've gone to Rapunzel days ago, should've called or asked her to meet, but he's been so fucking tangled up that he hasn't talked to anyone besides Spike. Not on purpose anyway. But if there's anyone who deserves to see him after all that, it's her. He'd fucking worshipped her, referred to her only as the sun, and while there's always been that connection there, at least Sweeney has the good sense to treat her like the person she is rather than a thing upon which to pin his worship.
But he figures she won't beat him up over it and so he sends her a text, asking if she'll meet him on the boardwalk. As he walks, he thinks of Moira, the little girl who who had called him father. The little girl he'd abandoned, running mad into the woods. He's lived thousands of years and he's been so much, but a good man... no, he doesn't think he's ever been that.
Bringing a cigarette to his lips, he takes a drag and exhales smoke into the wind as he leans against the railing on the boardwalk and waits. Hoping she'll come.
It helps that he can tell Spike about it, about all the shit that keeps coming up, the memories that rise and then fall, growing in clarity before fading again. It helps so fucking much that he has an outlet, but at the same time, he knows there are other people he needs to talk to. Especially after the way he was with them during that weird, fucked up week he spent as a god.
No, scratch that, he's always been that god. He just hadn't known it.
He should've gone to Rapunzel days ago, should've called or asked her to meet, but he's been so fucking tangled up that he hasn't talked to anyone besides Spike. Not on purpose anyway. But if there's anyone who deserves to see him after all that, it's her. He'd fucking worshipped her, referred to her only as the sun, and while there's always been that connection there, at least Sweeney has the good sense to treat her like the person she is rather than a thing upon which to pin his worship.
But he figures she won't beat him up over it and so he sends her a text, asking if she'll meet him on the boardwalk. As he walks, he thinks of Moira, the little girl who who had called him father. The little girl he'd abandoned, running mad into the woods. He's lived thousands of years and he's been so much, but a good man... no, he doesn't think he's ever been that.
Bringing a cigarette to his lips, he takes a drag and exhales smoke into the wind as he leans against the railing on the boardwalk and waits. Hoping she'll come.