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Title: the boy who spoke nonsense (and found a man who knew)
Rating: PG +13 because Ray.
Pairing/Characters: A Ray character study. Brad/Ray if you take it that way.
Word Count: 474
Summary: Ray talks because that's all he knows to do.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based on HBO’s Generation Kill, and nothing but the words are mine. No money is being made off of these fabulous words, or else I’d be doing it full-time.
A/N: Don’t even ask, sometimes words just spill from my fingertips like words from Ray’s mouth. The title makes sense when you read.
 

Ray isn’t sure how to explain his words sometimes; smoke drifting from his lips, his words tumbling out of a mouth that never seems to shut. He isn’t sure how, but he tries. In a flow of nonsense that makes sense in his mind but comes out distorted.

People laugh at his antics, but he thinks the wires in his brain got crossed somewhere along the way.

He feels like he has a disability. He feels disabled because he can’t express exactly what he wishes, but covers up his actions with a separate stream of consciousness.

He talks and talks and talks and doesn’t say anything. Because he can’t, he doesn’t understand how he’s supposed to feel feelings and not keep them hidden.

He’s tired; he talks.

He hurts; he talks.

He wants; he talks.

And so Ray talks and pretends like he means to do it.

All his life Ray has been ‘that kid who is annoying as fuck’ or ‘that retard who won’t shut up’, and he runs with it, because he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to run away from people who think of him like this. He thinks he won’t ever be able to run away from this diability.

Occasionally someone will put up with his bullshit long enough to try and see through it. But his disability doesn’t let them in. His disability makes him talk more, makes his lips move faster, makes him smoke more to stifle the constant movement. They try, boy do they try, and Ray watches them with pleading eyes as his mouth moves of its own accord and talks them away.

His disability is a barrier. A wall of words that people cannot seem to break past.

But then there are some people so persistent that Ray’s words halt and his body tenses at the intrusion.
A Viking god studies his face and knows his mind and Ray’s scared until he’s not.

He’s scared until he realises that he can spout nonsense and this man will never try to see past this disability, or try to change it, because he knows.

This man, this Hebrew motherfucker, knows. In ways that no one ever has and Ray thought no one ever would.

Brad doesn’t break past, but he sneaks around and behind and knows how Ray talks, knows what Ray means, and knows the extent of Ray’s fear at this development.

And Brad sits and he waits and he listens and he smiles. He snarks back, he debates, he glares and he knows.

Ray doesn’t know how to explain his words, or how to stop this disability; but Brad knows the secret passages and back roads of his mind.

So Ray talks and his eyes dance; because he can fall to his mind and he knows that Brad will be right there with him.