averagemedium | [Off-Comm Threads]

Not when you're acting like this.

[Ryan reflexively continues to shift backward in response, all the way up to the wall. He could make him stop if he wanted to, he's more than aware-- and a part of him wants to do it, wants to show Henry that he can.

He isn't, not unless he needs to. This is all wrong, making it more wrong isn't going to fix it.]

I don't know what's going on but you need to listen to me.

I'm listening.

[Good, the wall would stop him. Even if it wasn't Henry's intention to seem threatening, that's only because he didn't have much conscious intention at all. And he advances on him, with blank eyes and a half-smile.

He'd fix him. He'd protect him, from himself if he needed to.]

To~tally listening. Let me see, I want to see it-

You aren't. If you were listening to me you'd back off.

[There's as much force behind that as he can manage, but his voice still shakes, his eyes are still wide-- it's the only time he's looked honestly terrified of Henry. That expression unsettles him badly, and he keeps his wrist clutched possessively to his chest.]

Please, Henry. Don't. [There's a desperate note in that plea.]

[That tone, his face- Henry hasn't quite closed in when he stops short, staring at him. He wants to shake off the confusion, the unease that's creeping up.

That blood, he was almost to it-

Something was wrong.]

--You're afraid of me.

[It was soft and confused, but at least not accusing. Tense, he didn't know what to do. He was doing something wrong, but he couldn't tell what it was.]

...little bit.

[More than a little bit. The tiny laugh he huffs out is obviously not genuine, completely a nervous response.]

Why wouldn't I be, you-- you're-- I told you to stop I don't know how many times. If I can't trust you to back off, what then? How am I supposed to trust you not to do anything else?

[He isn't relaxing, still tense and watching him warily.]

I'm not-

[The anxiety in Ryan was obvious, even to him- he just didn't get it. He wanted to help, wanted his blood, wanted to help.

Why didn't he trust him, why didn't he-]

I wouldn't hurt you.

[A cautious step towards him.]

Maybe not on purpose. I don't know if I can believe that right now.

[He wants to, he really does, he desperately wants to just accept that and let this blow over--

He has to draw a line somewhere.]

Right now I just need you to stop.

[He wanted to obey. It was in his nature, he didn't even need to think about it, maybe Ryan was right and he wasn't listening, why wasn't he listening.

Why wasn't Ryan listening to him?]

But if I stop, you'll hurt yourself again. I can't let you, I said I'd protect you.

[Yet Henry stops moving. No. He didn't need to move. The shadows behind Ryan, cast against the wall- they moved, stretched and grew and shifted, claws reaching out to grab and restrain him.]

Please. Please hold still.

[He doesn't realize they're there until he's being grabbed, frozen in panic for a moment before he starts trying to pull himself loose. There's little thought to it, all just a reflexive, frantic struggle.]

This isn't protecting me, Henry, let me go--

[It's unfortunate that the shadows, for now, seem to be working with Henry's intention. Mutated hands grow claws and arms, like the wall itself was coming alive to hold him.

The reaction surprised him, but he shook his head, forcing the shadows to tighten their grip.]

Yes it is, you'll hurt yourself if I don't.

It's happened ONCE, you don't have to do this--

[He's not continuing to fight against the shadows after they strengthen their grip, though. Ryan takes a moment to try to just breathe, gather his thoughts, gather his will.]

--fine. You want me to hold still? You too.

[And he abruptly reaches for control of him, aiming to force him a couple steps back and hold him there.]

Hey--

[All of a sudden he's moving backward, and he didn't want to, not now, it wasn't fun like he thought it would be, not like this.

The shadows likewise stop, locking into position- but he at least can't make them worse.]

Stop it- I'm going to help, I'll save you!

[And the way he says it, it's basically a threat.]

From what? Something neither of us has any control over?

[He keeps hold of him, not quite willing to let him go yet-- part of him is still anxious about what's going to happen when he does, and part thinks it's just payback. It's only fair.]

How exactly are you planning on that, huh?

[The longer he's held, the more he doesn't want to be held, and if it had been a more physical bind, he'd be clawing and biting at it to get it off.

Since he can't, it's all inward- hurt and angry, and it's not an emotion he's had in years and he doesn't know what to do with it. But whether he liked it or not, he was going to fix things, take the stitches out, and then his hand, work until he couldn't leave him--

The laugh he gives is halfway to breathless, and not remotely stable.]

Let go, and we'll find out~

...don't think so. Not unless I know what you're doing.

[A large part of him is convinced that this is so unlike him, that he would never be like this, not to him-- and a small bit is wondering whether that's true, or whether he's just seeing what other people do, now.

Either way, the sound of that laugh is a good reminder not to let go yet.]

I'll let you go if you promise me you're going to let me leave.

Don't!

[The word is sharp, escapes him before he can try to control it. He wanted to leave. He was going to leave, and Henry couldn't really think beyond that concept. It might as well have been an absolute.

It takes a moment for him to control himself- or at least, to construct a reply that wasn't shouted at him.]

I'm not gonna lie to you Ryan.

Oh, I believe you're not lying. That's what's really kind of freaking me out right now. You're not acting like yourself.

[Maybe more like himself?

--no, he really needs to stop being paranoid, this is not right.]

...I don't want to leave for good. Okay? Just for a bit. I want to stay here, that just-- doesn't feel very safe, right now.

[His expression's still wary, but less accusing.]

You can't hold this forever, you'll let go, you'll sleep, and I'll--

[He'd break his legs, Ryan couldn't go anywhere that way, couldn't get into trouble. Safe, what was safe, the city was full of murderers, wasn't it better to be locked in with only one of them? He'd cut him down to see the rest of that blood, weaken him until he gave in. He'd kill to keep him safe, he'd kill him to keep him safe-

It's a thought that derails him, and Henry's abruptly frozen, the idea so abhorrent that he's grasping for the mental threads that led him there, how did he get there, why was he so dammed suggestible-

What was he doing?

Pulse thready and uncomfortably fast, his eyes are tightly shut when the shadows restraining Ryan dissolve.

He wants to say something else, but he can't; he's dizzy, lightheaded, and incredibly nauseous.]

[And you'll what?

It stays unasked as Ryan watches him uneasily, waiting-- and when the shadows dissolve, he waits a few moments before he hesitantly lets his control slip. He's usually straightforward enough, Ryan doubts this is some kind of trick to get him to let go; the thought does cross his mind, briefly, but it's nothing more than a flicker of that paranoia. It's nudged aside as he tries to relax tense muscles, cautiously straightens and pulls away from where he's been pressed against the wall.]

...Henry? Are you-- [No, that's a stupid question, he doesn't look okay. Ryan lets the sentence trail off there, just starting to reach out before he hesitates.

He doesn't think it's a trick, no, but everything is still painfully fresh in his mind.]

[When the control drops, he's not expecting it, and he takes a half-stumbling step forward before he catches himself, tense and chilled and trying to push it all out of his mind and failing entirely.]

...sorry. Really, really sorry.

[And he's just. Going to sit down on the floor right there, avoiding looking at him.]

[Whatever had come over Henry, it seems to have passed-- but it still takes some effort for him to force himself forward, to kneel next to him with an arm wrapped cautiously around him.]

...it's okay.

[Ryan honestly isn't sure whether it's going to be. God knows if or when something like this is going to happen again, but for now- he seems more himself. It'll do.]

[Henry twitches at the contact, and doesn't lean into it, just shaking his head.]

...how's your wrist?

[Not looking at it, not looking at him, not thinking about it.]

Same as it was. How are you?

[He's not forcing any more closeness, not quite sure if it's what Henry wants right now- but as long as the contact isn't discouraged, he'll leave his arm there.]

You should get it looked at.

[Ignoring the second question.]

Or at least take the stitches out.

I don't want to deal with it right now.

[After a brief pause, he adds--]

...you don't have to talk about it right now, either.

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