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There were three things Kaladin had discovered in the last ten minutes. Number one, wine was disgusting no matter how expensive it was. Number two, he caved easily to peer pressure in social situations. Number three, when Adolin Kholin said something was going to be fun, he was lying.
“Ha!” Adolin cheered, as he placed down his last card, “I win!”
Veil, who was sitting with them at the table, frowned. “You can’t play a Shardblade on top of a Broam.”
“Course I can! Broam represents wealth, and Sharblades only belong to wealthy people! So there!”
Kaladin squinted, “Mmm.”
“Exactly.” Veil said, jerking her thumb at him, “He gets it, take that back. Take the whole pile actually, since that was a proper miss.”
Adolin grumbled, and reluctantly took the stack of cards. Kaladin looked down at his own hand, trying to think through his next play. He was terrible at cards, always had been. He just didn’t get it. He didn’t get anything.
He shook his head, trying to snap into it. He was supposed to be having fun right now, not moping. He was specifically here to not mope.
“You gonna play, Stormface?” Veil asked him, raising an eyebrow. “Or do I get to go, and finally win.”
Kaladin sighed. “Um, sure.” He played a card, in what he thought was probably an okay position. Adolin winced.
“Now you’ve done it.” He said, as Veil triumphantly placed down the rest of her cards.
“Well boys, it seems the next round is on you.” She said, leaning back to prop her feet on the table. “I’ll be having blue, if you don’t mind.”
Adolin snorted, “As long as you take in some Stormlight at the end of this, if Shallan wakes up with a headache I’ll never hear the end of it. What color do you want Kal?”
Kaladin shrugged, tracing the rim of his glass listlessly. “Green is fine I guess.”
Adolin gave him a look. “Yeah I think you might need it. You doing alright?”
“Yeah. Nothing’s wrong.” Kaladin said. Which was true. The only thing he really noticed was a slight headache from the glass of green he’d already had. “I’m a bit of a lightweight, I think.”
Adolin snorted, “Bridgeboy, you’ve gotta be two hundred thirty pounds of pure muscle. You should theoretically be okay. Now Veil over here-”
“Hundred fifty pounds of pure spite.” Veil said, tipping her glass slightly. “Which’ll get me just as far as I need it to.”
“Huh.” Kaladin said, accepting another glass as the waiter brought it. “Something in the medical textbooks I’ve heard makes me think that might not be true.”
“Well Kaladin, I’ll tell you one thing- the people who wrote those? They hadn’t met me yet.” She blinked, her hair turning red as Shallan’s cheeky smile replaced Veil’s smirk. “I’m an enigma. Unknowable and undefined, unquantifiable-”
“Pretty.” Adolin said with a wide smile. “Beautiful. Sexy, even.”
Kaladin briefly considered the merits of smacking his head into the nearby wall to forget the last thirty seconds of the conversation. He hated when they got like this. Of course, they were married, but still. He knew he was a third wheel, unnecessary if not unwanted. The reminder was never pleasant.
“I can leave.”
“No!” Adolin protested immediately, “Stay. We haven’t even got our dessert yet- here, Shallan deal us another round of cards!”
“Prepare for a swift and painful defeat,” Shallan said as she started to shuffle and repass the cards. “If you feel so inclined to fly a white flag, I might spare you.”
“I don’t know how to do this.” Kaladin said, picking up his hand. “Maybe you two should just play.”
Adolin raised an eyebrow. “Y'know it’s less painful for me if I’m not the only one suffering.”
“Okay.” Kaladin said quietly, sipping his wine. This was strong. “I’m just bad at it, is all.”
“Me too.” Adolin said despairingly. “Nobody thinks what I think.”
“That’s because you tried to play safehand on wagon. ”
“That was one time! One time and I never hear the end of it-”
“No no, I think it says something deep about your psyche that we’ve yet to uncover. Do you think wagons are attractive?”
“Well you’re not a wagon, so-”
Kaladin stood up, and walked away from the table, leaving them to bicker. He ducked outside the building, leaning back against the cool stone of Urithiru. He wasn’t planning on going very far or anything, he just… wanted space. Maybe he wanted them to come look for him. That was pathetic. He wished Syl was here, but she’d gone off with Pattern somewhere and now he couldn’t find her.
Clearly, he wasn’t her priority.
He closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. Stormfather, what was wrong with him tonight? What was wrong with him in general- Almighty he couldn’t get out of his head for two minutes.
“Hey Bridgeboy, are we playing or not?” Adolin asked, poking his head out the door of the bar. “You’re okay, right?”
“I’m fine.” Kaladin said shortly, sinking back further into the wall. “I just want air.”
“You sure everything’s alright?” Adolin asked. He stepped out fully to join Kaladin, his eyes alight with soft concern. Stormfather, he hated that he’d made Adolin concerned again. He was fine, honestly, there wasn’t a reason why he wouldn’t be.
He slouched. “I just don’t feel good.”
Adolin’s brow creased. “Sick? Or something else?”
Adolin would never specify what he meant by something else, but they both knew. Kaladin felt shame creep over him, weighing down his shoulders and reddening his cheeks.
He looked away. “I think I’m gonna go home.”
Adolin’s face fell. “Really?”
Kaladin nodded, and Adolin drew his lips into a thin line. “You know we want you here, right?”
Kaladin grunted in assent, but… storms. Yes, he knew they wanted him here. He knew that with his head. They wouldn’t have invited him if they didn't want him. But, on a much deeper level, did they?
They were just married, they should be enjoying time together. Without him. And more than that, they should get to go drinking with people who could enjoy it, not people who were wondering every second when the best time to leave would be. Why would they want him? Why wouldn’t they resent him?
If Kaladin were a good friend, he’d refuse their invitation on principle.
No matter how much they cared, they couldn’t deny that he wasn’t fun to have around. Almighty’s sake, he was standing out here, and now he was making Adolin stand out here. That had to be exhausting.
He felt exhausted and he wasn’t even the one having to deal with himself.
Stormfather, he was tired .
“Can you come sit? You don’t even have to play cards or anything.” Adolin offered. “It’s a little late to be walking home alone when you’ve been drinking.”
Like anyone would attack Kaladin. It was a flimsy excuse, and Kaladin knew Adolin knew it.
Adolin was just worried about him.
The guilty, twisting feeling clenched his chest tighter.
“I’ll be fine Princeling. I’m just tired. It’s been a long day, I’ll be better in the morning.” He knew Adolin saw through the lie, but Kaladin didn’t have it in himself to make it sound convincing.
“Shallan and I can come with you.” Adolin said. “We don’t even have to talk! We can just come sit with you, and Shallan can sketch, and I’ll look through the fashion folios. It’ll be nice.”
“Adolin-”
“C’mon Kal, anything you wanna do.” Adolin said. “We’ve missed you.”
“I haven’t… I haven't been anywhere.” Kaladin said, feeling his throat close up a little.
Adolin sighed, and stood next to him, not touching but close enough Kaladin could reach out and tap him on the shoulder if he wanted. “I know.”
They just stood there in silence, and it wasn’t awkward, but it had a weight Kaladin couldn’t shake. He just didn’t have anything important to say, and he lacked the energy to make conversation. He wanted to sleep.
He took a few deep breaths, but it didn’t make the feeling (or the lack thereof) ease.
Stormfather, he wanted to lie down. Just… lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling and sleep long enough he wouldn’t feel tired when he woke up. So maybe forever.
He winced, and rubbed his temples again.
He shouldn’t be having thoughts like that, he was supposed to be getting better, he was getting better-
“Hey bridgeboy, I’m gonna grab Shallan and we’ll go with you, okay?”
Kaladin nodded, not really processing his words.
Adolin left, a little more hurried than Kaladin really thought was necessary. It wasn’t like he was going anywhere. He hadn’t really been going anywhere for a while now.
He let his head thump back into the wall. Even through the haze, he had to admit this was the worst he’d felt in a while. Everything he usually was able to rationalize was roiling around now, snapping at his every stray thought. He felt so bad and he didn’t understand why.
The last few battles had gone well, he hadn’t lost any men, he hadn’t fought an enemy he couldn’t easily defeat. It was supposed to be okay. Honestly, at the start of the night he’d felt happy.
It had been wan, yes. And he’d worried the whole time how long it would last. But it had been there, and the fact it had disappeared so rapidly for no apparent reason was almost disorienting.
“Here, let’s go.” Adolin was back, Shallan at his side. She looked concerned as well, though she was better at hiding it than Adolin.
“I’m okay.” Kaladin repeated, as Adolin placed a hand on his back and steered him away from the bar. “I feel fine.”
“Yeah, I could tell from the expression that says my axehound just got killed by a whitespine.” Shallan said skeptically. “Talk to us Stormface, what’s going on?”
Kaladin shrugged, trying to look a little less miserable than he felt. “Nothing. I don’t know.”
Shallan held her arms in front of her in an X. “Wrong. Try again.”
Kaladin glared at her. “What is wrong with you?”
“You first!” She said with a grin.
Kaladin looked at Adolin for help, and he shrugged. “I’m with Shallan. And not just because she’s my wife.”
“But also because I’m your wife.” Shallan finished. “Look, it’s alright! Just tell us what’s happening so we can help, we won’t judge you. If there’s anyone you can talk to, it’s your two best buddies in the whole wide world! Isn’t that right Adolin.”
“I’m really worried.” Adolin confessed, which Kaladin thought was probably the same thing Shallan had meant, but without all the extra words.
“I told you I don’t know.” Kaladin said shortly. “I felt fine, I’m just tired.”
“When did you start feeling tired?” Adolin asked.
Kaladin had to stop himself from wincing at that question. About when I turned twelve! Thanks for asking! “When we got to the bar. I need sleep, it’ll be better tomorrow.”
Please Stormfather let it be better tomorrow.
Shallan and Adolin exchanged a look.
“Kaladin, when was the last time you had something to drink?” Adolin asked.
Kaladin shrugged. “I don’t know, probably the night Bridge Four was officially free. It was a while ago.”
His lips tugged down at the thought. It… time really did just pass, didn’t it. Things just ended. They changed. Everything except for him.
“Do you remember how you felt? When you drank?”
Kaladin forced a smile. “Good, then bad, then good, then I don’t remember, then bad again the next morning.”
Shallan let out a low, impressed whistle as Adolin frowned. “You were really going at it, weren’t you?”
Kaladin looked away. Maybe it had been fun at the time, but there were a lot of things about that night he didn’t want to think about now. People he’d lost. He always lost people. “I guess.”
“Kaladin, do you think you could maybe sober up?” Adolin said, glancing meaningfully at his sphere pouch. “I think it’d help.”
“Adolin, I don’t know if anything helps.” Kaladin said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.
Adolins face softened. “Try anyway?”
“Okay.” Kaladin muttered, and breathed in Stormlight. Almost immediately, his headache cleared, and his thoughts moved a little faster. And the heaviness abated, just a little. Just enough for him to notice how much weight he’d truly been holding.
He blinked in surprise. “Huh.”
“Did that help?” Shallan asked, “I have more Stormlight on me if that wasn’t enough.”
“I wasn’t that drunk. But- yeah. I think it did a little.” Kaladin said honestly. “Couldn't tell you why.”
“I could.” Shallan volunteered, “Alcohol is technically a depressant, and it works to lower your barriers-”
“It makes people sad.” Adolin simplified, “Or angry. Or happy. Some people use it to self-soothe but it doesn’t… it just doesn’t really work like that.” Adolin looked down, and Shallan put a comforting hand on his arm.
“Thank you guys.” Kaladin said quietly, as they reached his room. “Genuinely. I might… I’m not sure I should drink anymore.”
“No.” Shallan agreed. “Probably for the best.”
“Sorry.” Kaladin said, shoulders slumping, “Sorry you have to be worried instead of having a good time.”
“Storms bridgeboy, we don’t care about that. We care about you.” Adolin said, in that earnest way he had.
“Yeah.” Shallan agreed. “I would rather worry about you than have a ‘good time’ with some other idiot.”
“I just don’t-” He stopped himself, and took a deep breath. “I hope you know I’m trying to get better.”
He just wished getting better was going a little more smoothly.
“We know.” Adolin said gently.
“You don’t though, because I’m not- it’s not really-”
He didn’t have time to make another apology before Adolin stepped forward, and engulfed him in a hug, Shallan following close behind. Kaladin tried to relax into it, letting some of the tension in him drain away through their warmth. It didn’t make the darkness go away, but it pushed it back a little. For now.
“I wish I could just hug you better.” Adolin said, sounding so genuinely devastated it broke Kaladin’s heart to hear it. “I wish it were some sorta Voidbringer I could hit with a sword until it died. And- and it hurts that you’re hurting. But you’re not the one hurting me. Okay? Even if we can’t fix it, we’re here anyway, and I- we want to help you carry it. Okay?”
“I’m not giving up on getting to hug you. Ever. So don’t think about it.” Shallan added in.
“Okay.” Kaladin said, closing his eyes, and hugging them back. “Okay.”