Driven Down Under; Thomas and Ivan's beginnings

Driven

"Maybe I don't want to fix it. Maybe I'm just... done." Ivan finally admitted, after minutes have passed. Long minutes that drowned them in a suffocating silence. Well at least for him.

Thomas turned to face him fully, his voice low but firm. "You're not done, Ivan. You're 23. You've barely started. You just don't know it yet."

Ivan looked at him, eyes bloodshot, lips pressed into a thin line. Then, he laughed again, softer this time, shaking his head. "You think I'll make it, Thomas?"

Thomas smiled slightly. "I know you will. But it's up to you to stop driving yourself off cliffs and into oceans."

For the first time that night, Ivan's shoulders seemed to relax. He sighed, heavy and deep, as if letting go of some weight. "You always talk like that, wise old man," he said, his voice tinged with sarcasm but lacking malice. Thomas was only 47.

"That's because I've been where you are," Thomas replied, his tone serious again. "And I didn't have anyone to follow me down to the beach."

They sat in silence, the waves crashing in the distance, neither of them moving to get out of the car. The ocean was still there, wild and waiting, but tonight, Ivan didn't feel the pull of its depths as strongly as before.

"I guess," Ivan murmured, leaning back in his seat, "I'll just have to keep trying, huh?"

Thomas nodded. "Yeah. And I'll be here, watching your back. Always."

Ivan smirked, lighting another blunt. "Always thought you were too old for this shit."

"Maybe," Thomas said with a grin, "but I'm not letting you go just yet."