averagemedium | [Off-Comm Threads]

...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.

...okay.

[He can agree to that. He wasn't in any condition to push the issue, especially after what had just happened when he tried. After a moment, Henry laughs, the sound very very quiet. Almost as quiet as his voice when he admits:]

I don't think I like this anymore.

[That's... unexpected, honestly, and Ryan's not entirely sure how to answer that.]

I don't think it really matters if we like it or not, Henry.

[His own voice is just as quiet, his arm tightening slightly around him.]

...we'll be okay. Just-- have to deal with it, yeah?

I wanted to kill you, Ryan.

[That felt like just about the complete opposite of 'dealing with it.'

But he eventually shifts to curl closer to him, even if he doesn't actually relax.]

...oh.

[That's all he can manage at first, reflexively clinging tight when Henry shifts closer to him.]

--alright, so being okay might take some effort. I didn't let you though, right? ...Didn't especially like doing that, but.

Thanks for not letting me.

[Muffled, his face buried against Ryan's neck, his fingers dug into his shirt in response to the clinging.]

I was angry before, but I'd be really mad if you just decided to go with it.

Promise you I wouldn't just go with you killing me.

[He strokes Henry's hair with his uninjured hand, hoping it's at least a little bit of a soothing gesture.]

But it wouldn't be your fault if you did.

[Henry's calming by degrees, at least, and the hair touch definitely helps. He still wants to disagree, that of course it would still be his fault, that didn't matter-

But he bites it back, just shaking his head.]

Do you ever get angry?

--yeah. If I hadn't been a little bit terrified there I'd probably have been pissy about it.

[He's just burying his face in Henry's hair, shifting to wrap his arms a bit tighter around him. Quite possibly too tight.]

That wasn't your fault, though, all of this is-- it just happens. That wasn't you. You wouldn't want to kill me, you'd listen if I told you I was uncomfortable, you'd stop.

I know, but...

[He could be suffocating and it wouldn't be too tight. Henry links his own arms around him, clinging back with an unnecessary degree of force.]

...are you still afraid of me?

I-

[He trails off there, hesitantly, before he huffs out a sigh with a shake of his head.]

...not of you. Of the possibility of that happening again.

[A better answer than he'd expected, to be honest, and he breathes out slowly. It's a while before he otherwise replies.]

Me too.

...no sewing for a while, okay?

Trust me, I don't want to touch a needle for a while.

[Ryan's quiet for a few moments, continuing to comb his fingers through his hair while he thinks-- but eventually he just gives his head another small shake, voice quiet.]

--I don't know what to do about this. If it happened while I was asleep, or-- or if it happened to me while you were asleep...

Or if anything happened ever, you mean.

[It wasn't really a comforting thought, and Henry wasn't used to worrying this much about anything. But then, he usually didn't try to kill people he actually cared about.

Henry shuffles over into his lap instead, a bit disoriented by how much had changed in a short period of time.]

At least we always come back, huh?

...there's that, yeah. It's not going to make it any better at the time, but-- it's something.

[He's helping tug him over into his lap as soon as he sees what Henry's aiming for. He, at least, is very used to worrying about things this much, but if even Henry is admitting that he's not okay with the situation-- that makes it feel more serious.]

We have options, I just... don't really want to consider them. Most of them involve staying separate places.

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