Who: Brian and Mya
Where: On the phone
When: 8:30ish in the evening

By the time work had come around, Brian had been under control and no longer glowing-- thank god, because if he'd had to talk to Ash while still in a state there would've been trouble. By the time he got off work, he'd been no longer even the slightest bit angry, and just plain confused with a heavy dose of worry. Hunt had acted strange. He wasn't the type to be cruel, needlessly or even needfully, and he wasn't the type to pretend he didn't understand or remember something... so there had to be some reason for it. And now that he wasn't angry, short circuiting, or right in Hunt's face, he could recognize that.

And he needed to talk to someone about it. The natural choice, of course, was Mya. He needed to call her, anyway. Check up on things. See if she'd heard from Olivia. Remind her to stay home tomorrow, dammit.

So after closing up shop, he drove out to the woods a ways and pulled over into a campground outside of town, killed the engine, and settled back in the seat with his cell phone. Mya was the third speed dial on his phone, so all he had to do was press a button, and her phone was ringing.

Mya was curled up in a blanket on the couch (a nice change from her bed) watching some sappy romance. The box of tissues was resting by her side as she sniffed back a tear, only twenty minutes into the movie. When her phone rang she uncurled enough to lift it off the back of the couch and to take up the remote, pausing the movie. "Hello?" She asked softly.

"Hey, you," Brian began, confident he would be recognized. He settled back more comfortably in the bench seat. "What's up? How are you?" It was always nice to hear her voice, even if it was just saying "hello".

"Hey B." She said pulling the blanket up around her shoulders again. "I'm good, settled in for the night. And you?"

"Relatively shitty, but what's new?" Brian chuckled, though it was a little weak as he realized the person walking along the highway up ahead was dead and ghostly. Shit, he just couldn't get away from those spirits anywhere, could he? "You're not going to bed already are you?"

"Nah, was watching a movie." She replied. "What's wrong?" Mya didn't have to be there to see his face, she could tell from his voice that his words and chuckle were really signals that something was really wrong.

"Eh, stupid shit," Brian sighed. "But some of it's pretty big and problematic stupid shut. Fucked up a work this morning, and now I see ghosts, and I can't turn it off. It's kinda... unsettling, seeing dead people all over the place." He was just lucky that enough of the spell had worked properly that he could tell which ones were the dead ones. Otherwise he'd been in trouble. "And I'm afraid something's really wrong with Hunt."

"Oh god Brian, why did you do that?" She asked, not really -needing- an explanation but still had to ask. "Why do you think something's wrong with Hunt?" Mya asked, the slight criticism changing quickly into concern.

"Because I'm trying to get my damned short circuiting under control, and that means practice," Brian countered, defensive and unable to not explain himself. "I just over-reacted at the wrong time, and now I see ghosts. It doesn't hurt anything, it's just... annoying and a bit freaky."

He sighed, brushing his hair back and turning in the seat so he could flop back across it and not see anything outside the truck cab. He loved bench seats. "As for Hunt, because his memory's all spotty. You know that dog of his? Mutt? She went missing and he forgot about it. And he and I got attacked by those vampires the night before my birthday-- he's only got really vague memories of what happened. Not to mention he didn't even ask how I set a vampire on f-fire or how I got him home in the span of two seconds. I reminded him we did that, and he laughed at me, said it was imp-impossible-- even though we did it, and he can't possibly have written it off without some really heavy self-delu-- del-- delusion. On a psychop-- psychopa-- really big and bad scale. So... yeah. I'm a bit worried about him."

It all came out fast, with hardly time for a breath, as if, if he got it out more quickly, she'd believe him more easily. Or something. It certainly made him stumble over his words a little more.

“That does sound strange.” She said, not responding to the short-circuit part. She knew he wanted to get better, but it still worried her that one day she’d find him dead… or worse. Mya shifted a little on the couch, trying to find a comfortable spot again, which ended up with her laying down with her head on the pillow near the arm rest. “He just… forgot?”

"That's the only answer I can come up with," Brian said unhappily. "That makes more sense that never noticing to begin with. And I know he noticed Mutt missing; I called him the morning after and he was going out to look for her. But now, a week later, it's like she never even was. And he got... snappy with me when I asked him what was up, why he wasn't reacting more to his dog's disappearing. That's just not like him. So I don't know what's going on. Don't suppose you have any ideas as to what could be happening here?" He doubted it, but he figured he might as well give it a shot. His only conclusion so far was hard-core repression, which he hadn't a clue how to deal with and, honestly, hadn't been something he was sure existed until he was given reason, in Hunt, to wonder.

"I'm not sure what might be causing it. You said he had a run in with the vampires, maybe it's a form of PTSD?" Mya offered up, it was really the only thing she could think of... it wasn't unheard of for people to suffer from short term amnesia when suffering from PTSD. "Do you know if he has any pictures of Mutt? Maybe they would jog his memory."

"Well, he remembered her when I brought her up, but it's like he kept avoiding the subject, or down-playing it, or... I don't know." He propped a foot up on the door, staring at the ceiling dismally. "But PTSD, that could work. It's close to the only thing I could think of, repressing or some shit like that. I'm just worried about him. That can't be good for him. But how do I talk to him about it? If when I try he either gets defensive or brushes it off, and then forgets what we were talking about?" Making Brian think, at the time, that he was just being lied to. Now he wasn't so sure.

"Well the first things first, you have to be understanding... if this -is- PTSD then it's not his fault and he might react poorly to the issue being pressed. I wouldn't say to not bring it up at all, but maybe find another way to reach the subject." Mya said after thinking on it a moment. "For instance, when you talk to him about Mutt, don't start with how she's missing; start with a good memory. Something they did that would bring back a good memory of her, see if he can hold on to her memory that way... then slowly bring in the fact that she's missing."

"Yeah, me and the understanding didn't happen so well today," Brian sighed, pushing hair back from his face, so it wasn't brushing his nose. "I got kinda pissed at him, actually. It didn't occur to me until after that maybe he wasn't just brushing me off and avoiding answering me. Damn, I am so not the person for this kind of shit...." Brian and trying to be delicate and careful in conversation did not often go well together-- look at how well he'd broached the subject of Domino with people, just as an example. And once he started getting frustrated, things just went downhill, fast. He had a feeling that Hunt and this predicament were going to be remarkably frustrating, so he didn't have very high hopes of getting anywhere. He had to at least try, though.

"Hey, it's a surprising occurrence, you didn't expect him to act the way he did. Now you can." Mya told him, she wasn't there so she couldn't read him, but she'd known him long enough that sometimes she didn't have to. "And you just have to be observant and patient- you have to make the effort... he is your friend after all."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know, I'm going to. Doesn't mean I don't get the right to moan and groan about it before and after, though," he added with a smirk. "It's going to be miserable, you know. This is more your kind of thing than mine, but there's no way he'd take it from you. All he knows 'bout you is you're my friend and co-boss. At least me, he tried to turn it 'round like there was something wrong with *me* for getting upset with him-- and not in the yelling-at-me way, either. Just got this face like I'm sure I looked like, for a bit: all worried-like."

“I’m sure you’ll do wonderful B.” Mya told him. “You’re better at this than you like to think… and I should know.” After all the times he’d helped her when she was having problems, he’d have to have learned something.

"If you say so, gorgeous...." He didn't really believe her, figuring she was just being the supportive best friend she always was-- either that or fairly deluded about his patience and temper-- but he'd take that. It was nice to hear, at least, and made him smile despite it all. "So what movie were ya watchin' when I so rudely interrupted with my shitty day?"

"It's an older one; Bye, Bye Love." She replied. "I've seen it before and it's sad every time- and you weren't rude."

"I'm being faci-- fashi-- I'm being silly," Brian chuckled at her giving up on "facetious". He ought to know better by now than to try weird words like that. "I know I wasn't being rude. Stop being so serious." And he was still teasing her, actually, for taking his remark seriously. "And put in something funny. It'll make you happier than watching something sad." He was ordering her around, too. Jokingly, of course.

"Oh you know me, I enjoy a good cry." She did, it was strange with all the worry that Mya took on of others she enjoyed watching sappy teary movies most of all. "And it has a good, happy ending!" She argued back.

"And I still think you're crazy'," Brian told her with a grin she couldn't see but could probably hear. He was not into tear-jerkers, thanks. Not really his thing. And, really, he only did chick flicks with Mya or, on very rare occasion when he was really in a mood, by himself. "Happy endings don't make up for trying to choke you up, first."

"Aww, but a good cry is very therapeutic." Mya retorted. "I highly recommend it. You're just a 'guy'." She said putting an emphasis on the 'guy'- teasing.

"Damn straight, I am. I'd rather watch a movie with big explosions and lots of laughs than anything aimed at making someone cry. It's manipilertive-- manip-- wait, how the hell do you even say that word?" He was pretty sure he'd gotten it wrong, there, but he wasn't quite sure how. "I should just stop talking," he chuckled. "That's two words in the span of two minutes I've fucked up."

Mya giggled a little. "Sorry babe, I don't even know what word you're trying for this time." She never gave him a hard time about 'those words' and only rarely gave them up when he stumbled, but when he started to poke fun, she always had to tease. He always took it so seriously, but honestly he spoke better than half the people she knew... he didn't need to use five dollar words.

"You liar, you do so," Brian shot back lazily. He didn't care, really; she knew what he meant, he was sure, and that was what mattered. Not like it was important, anyway. They were bickering about the merit of movies that made you cry, an utterly inane topic that, after so long of everything being life or death, or dramatic and difficult, was like a breath of fresh air. So, after a pause to chuckle, he said warmly, "Thanks, Mya."

"Anytime, you know that." Mya replied with a smile.