I would love to hear your angsty macsummers headcanons 👀
YEEEAHHHHHH let's get INTO IIITTTT!!! I wanna say these sort of -- build up a little, maybe :3c I hope you like them!!!
Lenny isn't really one to talk about his feelings - he might have the words, but he still doesn't really know how to, when it comes to the more negative and deep-seated stuff. King of intellectualizing his emotions fr.
The only person who ever really gets him is Sean, who wears his heart on his sleeve.
It's not even that Sean tries very hard to understand Lenny; but he has the ability to get straight to the point where Lenny flounders or gets avoidant.
Similarly, when Sean starts blustering and distancing himself from the truly vulnerable parts of himself, Lenny can see right through it.
What really first drew Lenny to Sean was his openness about his father; the common ground of having lost theirs in such violent ways. It's the first time Lenny tells anyone what he did in retaliation, and how he did it - Sean responds in neither horror nor pity, but with a sense of vicarious satisfaction and maybe just a little jealousy. They share a drink in quiet celebration of the karmic retribution delivered by Lenny's hands, and it's the least complicated anything has been for him in a long time.
Sean's story feels heavy with unfinished business, in comparison; turns sweet liquor sour to hear of a man shot in his bed. Lenny indulges him, lets him talk about his father at length, and feels his own sting of jealousy at how close it seems they were - reminded of his own father's words in the letter he still has from him. He's not sure he ever fully understood the 'more tutor than father' line before meeting Sean.
Nightmares; when Sean isn't blacked out to the world from either drink or exhaustion, he has them. Usually he dreams of waking up to his father's dead body, though that has certainly morphed over the years through the death and injury he's witnessed since. It's not uncommon for him to dream about Lenny being dead, now, and waking up panting and panicked just to see Lenny next to him - Sean usually curls right up against him before trying to get some more sleep.
Conversely, Lenny only has nightmares after experiencing something really bad - Sean usually is woken up by Lenny though, and is there to comfort him after.
When Sean returns from the bounty hunters, he spends the first night drinking, partying, and partially avoiding Lenny. He's overly successful as Lenny is gone for the next couple days with Micah, and then gets taken out to drink with Arthur.
By the time Lenny DOES approach Sean and asks to talk, Sean is on the verge of exploding. He doesn't WANT to talk about it, he wants to move on with his life, but he has been anticipating Lenny's question and barely needs to be prodded before he's spilling his guts out.
He tells Lenny about the haze of pain and confusion, about how he had no idea how much time passed prior to getting out - it could've been days or months as far as he was aware. Sean isn't really sure what all they did for the duration he was there - he just knows he was in pain for the most of it, when he wasn't unconscious, and that the burning and pulling was among the easier things to bear.
Lenny asks Sean if he's thinking of leaving, after all that. Sean says no, and Lenny has no idea why he's vaguely disappointed. They both know something is left unsaid there, but neither can bring themselves to push it or bring it up again.
Lenny does still notice how unsteady Sean is on his feet in the time after, at Horseshoe; he does his best to make sure Sean has somewhere to sit down nearby, if he needs it. He also notices how Sean's struggling to eat, and speaks to Pearson about cutting everything in the stew into smaller pieces for a while - he also makes sure there's softer snacks for Sean in the meantime.
When Sean dies, Lenny shuts down in what ways he can. He has never figured out how to handle grief without vengeance, without anger, and when there is no revenge left to take, he has no idea how to handle it. So he just gets quiet.
He was the same when Jenny died, but with Sean it's worse - Lenny becomes a lot more withdrawn, to the point that people notice.
Several of his friends in the gang try to check up on him, but Lenny brushes them off - doesn't want to talk about it. He keeps up with the day-to-day because he doesn't know what else to do, a sort of distant dissociation carrying him through it.
When he has a moment of quiet, he doesn't even know how to identify what he's feeling, he just feels-- empty.
Where before he was foolhardy now he's reckless - borderline careless - with himself. It's not that he wants to die but the rush of adrenaline is one of the purest feelings he has left, not waterlogged by the reminder of his person not being there anymore.
It doesn't help, in the long run - remembering just hits harder once the thrill fades.
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