He chuckled, settling back into the couch. Ty had to admit, he loved the comfort of Mag's living room furniture. He felt so safe...in her apartment, with her. Which was more than he could say about his own apartment most of the time. Usually, after a nightmare, he either lay awake in bed, paranoid that Lori was going to jump in through the window and dissect him right there, or he'd sit on the couch with a hard drink, paranoid of the same thing.

But here, with her...was cozy. He looked down at his empty glass, wondering how easy he was willing to take his drinking tonight, all while denying the fact that he too, may also have a problem with alcoholism. He called it 'recreational drinking,' which meant he did it as a hobby, where most people played basketball or did origami, or put jigsaw puzzles together...

Then, he listened as she finally agreed to share her..."What the hell?" he murmured, somehow managing to wait until she finished speaking.

"Uh...Mag? Something weird's going on here, Hun..." he said, sitting up, his heart starting to race with fear and uncertainty. "You...you just described my nightmare, to the core. The one I've been having for over a year now...The walking down the hallway to...that was me you saw on the table, wasn't it? You saw what I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy...but...." His voice trailed off, and when he spoke again, his voice was raspy and barely a whisper. "How?"

He cleared his throat. "Can...can you describe anything else? Was it in color, or greyscale? I mean...am I really capable of...using my power in my sleep like that? If so...then...I may have to go home and burn my bedsheets..."

He sat back onto the couch, rubbing his temple. This was too much...

Ty seemed concerned. At first a little, then suddenly a lot. The news, her dream, for whatever reason, had scared him. And then it clicked: "You...you just described my nightmare, to the core. The one I've been having for over a year now...The walking down the hallway to...that was me you saw on the table, wasn't it?" Magnum gave a nod of affirmation. "You saw what I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy... but... How?"

Magnum was just as baffled as he was. She sat forward, allowing the song to come to an end before hitting pause on her mix. This was not a conversation to be had over music. The moment she did this, Ty's question-bombs descended. He wanted to know the color of her dream, and if it had the same effects as his power had earlier. To be honest, the level of emotions were similar to her previous dreams, but they'd felt like an external force rather than one that normally came from within. Her own levels of concern spiked with this revelation. That had been Ty's dream... no wonder he never slept. And beyond that, if he continued to imprint memories in his sleep, they might never be able to fall asleep together.

"They were sepia. The emotions felt similar to earlier, and I felt nauseous when I woke up, but I don't think I had anything else in my stomach. " she responded, taking his glass and walking back over to the closet. "But why in the world would you have to burn your sheets? Vodka?" It was half question, half statement. The situation called for something stronger. She was pouring vodka, he could take it or leave it.

He stewed on this for a moment, thinking, weighing everything. This was just...weird. "Vodka," he said simply, answering the most important question first. Definitely vodka. Yep, it was official. He was getting hammered tonight.

"For the most part, it sounds like my ability, for sure. But sepia?" He chewed on his lip a little, still thinking. "Well, I think we just discovered another facet to my powers," Ty grumbled. "Just when I thought I was getting them under control...and...I may have to burn my sheets because I probably wrote the same nightmare on them, my pillowcase..." He sighed deeply.

"This is going to impact us sleeping together, isn't it? Or will I have to wear gloves to bed?" Then, something clicked. "Actually...if I wore two thin pairs of gloves, it would write the dream on the inner layer, which I could throw away, and you'd never have to come into contact with it..." It would work, but...Damned if it didn't sound ****ing ridiculous.

She finished pouring the drinks. By his somewhat eager response, Mag decided that they would both be out cold until late afternoon tomorrow. She picked up both glasses and the rest of the opened vodka bottle, and took all three back to the coffee table. The tinkling of bumping glass echoed off the table as the set them down, flopping back onto the couch in an area that was still considered fairly far from Ty.

"Well, I guess we're both back at the starting point with our powers. For future reference, it's not my fault if it rains while we're asleep," she laughed. Honestly, her powers only worked under duress, and almost never in the way that she wanted them to. It was a problem, but she had yet to find someone able to coach her on controlling it, so Mag had learned to deal with waking up and already having pseudo-showered. "I'd volunteer to burn your clothing if you wanted help." A smirk touched her lips at the thought. It'd been a good year since Mag had been to a proper bonfire. "But the idea of you wearing so many gloves just to keep everything from happening is kind of crazy, although I like it a lot better than not being able to sleep with you. Then again, I guess it's up to you and how you feel. Who knows, maybe sleeping with me will make your nightmares less frequent?" she shrugged, sipping on the vodka.

Her mind changed topics, back to something she'd been wondering earlier when he mentioned that he had nightmares instead of a single reoccurring nightmare. "Do you have other nightmares?"

Ty honestly couldn't blame her when she created distance between the two of them. After what she'd just seen, it made perfect sense. After all, thanks to his power, something that he'd have preferred no one ever know about, had been let out of the bag. He took the glass, taking a swig of the vodka. Oh yeah....that was the stuff. Right there.

"Noted, though I don't think I'd have written on my clothing...not that I have any means of finding out myself...drawback to my powers, I can't see what I impart onto things. I have no way of knowing." After a pause, he added, "And no, even if you did volunteer, you're not gonna be a guinea pig for that."

He smirked, looking over at her as he took another sip. "Remember the conversation about me climbing a tree just to kiss you? Well let's just say I'd do even crazier **** if it meant sharing your bed or sleeping with you. You mean that much to me," he said, winking. It wasn't an 'I love you,' but it was honestly way to soon for one of those. But he did acknowledge that there was some sort of very real connection between the two of them.

"Most of the time it's that same one these days. Or something similar. On occasion, I battle with others, but they're infrequent, and usually differ." He too, another sip. "Those, are usually me reliving those moments of my life I didn't want to live the first time. Sometimes, I'm seeing my mother die in that car accident. Others, I'm reliving the day my powers surfaced." He paused. "And others...I'm losing what few people matter to me."

He paused again. Then,he added with a small smirk."Though I admit that list is a little longer than it's been in the past, and that one hasn't happened since I've met you..."

When Ty revealed that he didn't know where he'd written things, or what he'd written, she could help but smile. "So you've never had to experience getting a memory, only imparting them..." She thought for a few moments and then laughed. "I think you've gotten the better end of the deal, especially since you sleep in the places you write things. I'd love to get rid of my nightmares by putting them somewhere," she sighed, closing her eyes on forming tears to smother them before they built into anything worse.


Her mind drifted briefly to the past, snapping back at his mention of the burning tree that she would one day be stuck in as he wanted to kiss her. "Well let's just say I'd do even crazier **** if it meant sharing your bed or sleeping with you. You mean that much to me," he said, punctuating the sentence with a wink. She rolled her eyes, biting back a grin with a sip of vodka and letting it slide down her throat, breaking away some of the tension. On an empty stomach, alcohol made its way into the bloodstream quicker, so where Mag could've normally taken 4 or so glasses before feeling it, her head was beginning to buzz at the end of 3.

The business of his nightmares she understood all too well. Most nights, it was one of three dreams, or sometimes multiples depending upon how long she stayed asleep. The comment about his mother struck a real chord within her, reminding Mag of one of her own nightmares. She took another sip, trying to drown the memory, and then placed her hand on Ty's free one.

"Though I admit that list is a little longer than it's been in the past, and that one hasn't happened since I've met you..." he smirked. She smirked, partially at the cheekiness of his comment, and slid closer. "My list has grown a little longer since meeting you too."

"Only if you count the touching objects and seeing its life history," he replied with a chuckle. "So, I have no idea what seeing my imparted memories are like. But, I don't get rid of memories or nightmares. My power merely makes a copy and leaves it somewhere for the next unsuspecting sap who touches it to be bombarded by it."

The alcohol started taking its hold on Ty a little quicker than usual as well, but he had to say, he didn't care. Especially what with all the crap on his mind lately. It was a welcome change of mindset. Ty smiled as she spoke, and he settled into the couch with his glass of vodka, smiling more as he felt her hand on his.

"Never mind," she laughed. "That sounds pretty horrible as well. Knowing there's another copy of whatever I think about floating around for some helpless person to see... well, I don't know about how you feel, but I'd feel pretty worried about it. And, if I had to see every bullet I've ever shot, I'd never touch my gun again." Slowly but surely, the alcohol began working its magic; a free feeling associated with being drunk but not ****faced descended on her body.

With the loss of stress came a decline in control of her already shakily regulated powers. However, instead of thickening the air like usual, the humidity that clung to her surrounding bubble of air began to dissipate into the rest of the apartment. The peace, though uncommon, was easily disturbed. If something threw her into a bad place, the interior weather could swing from pleasant to dreadful in a minute's notice. Her fingers felt light, as though they could dance on the wind. As a result, she began toying idly with his hand. "Tell me something about yourself?" she asked.

He gave a dry chuckle as he poured himself another drink. "Well, my promise will stand. But if you have anyone you want revenge on, I could totally discover their darkest days and make 'em see them all over again." He shrugged, it was an honest offer, even if it was pretty dark. Or maybe it was the alcohol talking.

He smiled as she toyed with his hand, chewing on her question for a bit. "Let's see...what's to tell that you haven't figured out already? You know I'm a thief by trade, charming, gentleman despite my background...well, you sort of know I've done some odd jobs, hiring out my powers for extra cash."

He chuckled. "Well, I had a cat once. She ran away shortly before...well, shortly before I did. I also love animals, except for poodles. Evil little bastards..." he grumbled the last part. "What about me would you like to know?"

"Fill me up." The words were half-request, half-command and spoken entirely by an alcoholic who was once again losing control as Ty broke out more of the liquid joy painkiller. Her ears perked up at his comment, an offer that concerned her for reasons beyond the morality of torturing people. "You've never been to Chicago, have you?" she asked with a bit of a trembling edge to her voice.

As Ty began listing off things she knew about him, Mag couldn't help but lighten the mood with a bit of interjection between his background and the mention of odd jobs: "I know you have bizarre taste in music for a gentleman," she smirked. Eventually, he reached a fond memory that he hadn't shared yet. At one point in his life, Ty had owned a cat! Although cats weren't her favorite animals, Mag had disliked any dependent animals which made cats higher on her list of preferred pets than a lot of others. "I also love animals, except for poodles. Evil little bastards..." she couldn't resist laughing at this comment, giving his hand a squeeze as she slowly inched back toward his side.


"What about me would you like to know?" the offer came unexpectedly. "Well, I suppose I'd like to know about your early life. Your parents, siblings if you had any, what you liked to do... You know, the things that made you the guy sitting on the couch next to me," she smiled softly, understanding that the subject was touchy but feeling as though there really wasn't a better time to ask such things.

He chuckled at her tone as he filled up her glass while he was at it. This was nice, in a dark sort of way. Just drinking and bonding by talking about things they probably wouldn't talk about sober. Beautiful.

"Chicago? Nah. I'm from Georgia, moved to NY at fourteen, and I spent a year in Kansas. So while I may or may not have passed through, I've never actually stopped and smelled the roses there." He laughed at her comments about his music.

"What can I say? I'm really into rock music, from soft, to classic, to the all out heavy stuff." Then...she asked about his early life, and his smile faded a bit.

"I grew up in a small town, only child. Loved by my parents, that sort of thing. It was happy, as far as I remember. But...when I was ten, my mother died in an accident with a semi-truck. My dad turned to alcohol to cope, and...damn was he an abusive bastard when drunk. I ended up living with my aunt, and we moved to NY when I was fourteen. Two years later, she died, and I ended up homeless for awhile. Didn't take me long to get back on my feet though, albeit dishonestly. Then, a few years ago, my old man came back into my life, kicked my ass, stole my wallet, you know, fatherly stuff..." His voice grew darker with every sentence. "I don't remember how the whole story goes, because I ended up drinking most of that away, but I do know I killed him."

He shrugged a little, having said the words 'I killed him,' as if he'd just said it was raining outside; no emotion whatsoever.

"And that, love, is how I came to be the charming young fellow sitting next to you~"

Alcohol. She understood the draw, the appeal, the freedom it granted… and yet every sip brought her closer to the black pit of despair that was hidden underneath her other memories. “Chicago? Nah,” he shot down her worries... it was better that way. “Well,” she laughed back, “We need to go there now, if only so you can see the races.” The aspiration, though close to her heart, was best not filled. But maybe, just maybe, she’d be able to go one day and pay them back.


Instead, Magnum managed to focus back in on the conversation. Georgia. That explained the drawl and his rather chivalrous attitude. This also made her smile… and then Ty started into his history with a dark cloud clinging to his words. She sympathized, remembering her own experience after losing her mother. Then Ty admitted to being homeless – another story that Mag was too familiar with; another child the system left behind. 

“Then, a few years ago, my old man came back into my life, kicked my ass, stole my wallet, you know, fatherly stuff...” he recited, sinking deeper into the black cloud. Her fingers – the ones not playing with the lip of her glass – found their way to his on the couch and clasped his hand in hers. There were no words she could give him, so silence hung in the air like a warm blanket of understanding. Everyone deserved a little comfort when dealing with memories like these.



“I killed him,” the words came in the same manner as their predecessors, with a bit more of a cathartic meaning. A little over a month ago, as part of her Ragnarok recruitment, she had been able to kill her own father, something that had brought her great joy. Then, as suddenly as he’d started talking, he was happy again. Or as happy as one could be after such a large revelation. After letting it sit for a bit, both digesting and giving him time to come back down to reality, she cocked a smile.

The way her lips curved spoke of arrogance and overconfidence, but these didn’t reach her eyes. Instead, darkness hid behind them, the same kind that had been present through Ty’s summary of his past. “I suppose it’s my turn then?”