[ He hasn't written about the basement hole yet and now that writing duty has been forced away from him he is going to put his head down on his desk and stare at Nehan. ]
[ He just sighs as he looks over the notebook contents again, reviewing everything that's new. ]
You've been thorough.
[ (derogatory)
Though before he gets to covering the last bit of information, he pauses, and sets his pen down. ] Let me see. I may as well redo your dressings. [ Gestures for his hands!! ]
[ He would normally try to make this as difficult as possible, but he stays where he is, the side of his head still leaning on the desk as he offers up one of his hands.
He's quiet and his gaze is unmoving while he studies Nehan's face. ]
[ Having figured he'd need it today, he's got a doctor's bag with him and sets up to work, gently unwinding the old gauze and bandages from around his palm. Even with the weakness in his left hand, he has an expert touch, able to progress steadily and also speak after several passing beats of silence, keeping his eye on his task. ]
... You're not going to suddenly become a hallucination, right?
[ He's not sure... Everything's a jumbled mess in his head and even the physical touch he's currently receiving isn't an assurance. The apparitions back at the lighthouse had held on to him too, after all, burning at his skin. ]
[ Oh, something happened here. He's heard enough from everyone now that he's got a slightly better idea of what all they've encountered, but living through it is very different.
He unscrews the lid of a small tin, applying a poultice to some of the now exposed cuts. It has a faintly numbing sensation and his fingertips are cool to the touch. No burning. ]
You're in luck then. I'm good at surviving.
[ Even if they were the first two people to die this game. ] So are you.
[ It should bring him some relief, but it doesn't. An ache shoots across his chest instead as he returns his gaze to Nehan, and the familiar feeling of fear nestles into his very core. He knows where this journey will take him. He's seen it too many times before.
Aventurine turns his head, looking to the other side. The hand that Nehan holds begins to tremble. ]
I keep seeing them. Even now.
[ His other hand comes up to press at his face, another layer of darkness atop his already tightly closed eyes. ]
[ He's given pause at the flash of fear in his expression, the way the usual bravado is gone and how honestly Aventurine's hand trembles under his. But then he carefully wraps the cuts back up, speaking calmly. ]
I can give you something to help you sleep. [ Though given how Aventurine seemed to be avoiding his dreams already, he doesn't know how helpful it'd be. He shifts, sitting beside him so he can take a look at his shoulder. Or... just to be a little closer, more available, hand still lingering needlessly against his bandages. ] ...You don't have to look at them.
[ Not even sleep is an escape, as evidenced by the way Aventurine quickly shakes his head. ]
I'd just see them in my nightmares.
[ They keep following him, visions of people he's lost or afraid of losing. Talking about this only seems to heighten his anxiety, sends him into a half-delirious state as he finally looks back at Nehan, clear exhaustion written all across his face. ]
[ Ah. This gets him a little; he's hard to faze, but for a split second he looks genuinely stricken. Despite his fussing, it's as though he forgets that Aventurine's hand is injured, his grip on it tightening a little. ]
You're...
[ ...He needs to calm down. He lets out a deep exhale and reconfigures, taking stock of Aventurine's injuries. He can't lean on him when his arms are diced up. Can't grip his shoulders. The best conclusion he can come to on the fly is grabbing him by the face, more forceful than usual. He's weak, but the conviction is there. ]
Pull yourself together. This is real. You're not allowed to be hurt because of me.
[ As long as this Nehan's touch doesn't burn him, it doesn't matter that Aventurine's injured hand is being grasped too tightly. What matters is that split second glimpse that he manages to catch, and Aventurine smiles, apologetic and guilt-ridden. ]
Sorry, Nehan.
[ And he truly does sound remorseful. He lets Nehan take him by the face without resistance, exhaustion having now become him. Aventurine isn't one to admit defeat so easily, but what's the point in lying at this very moment in time?
He had asked if Nehan would become a hallucination because of the plain and simple truth, that the other man has been a hallucination for days now. ]
His jaw sets tight as he grips Aventurine's face and stares him down, glaring at this idiot who's smiling and apologizing when he looks like he could keel over from how absolutely worn thin he is. Telling someone he's only known for weeks that somehow he occupies enough of his thoughts to haunt his dreams.
What is he supposed to say to that? What's he supposed to do?
He tentatively shifts his grip, and moves Aventurine's head with a gentle push onto his shoulder, letting it rest there. His hand stays against his hair—it's not strange, or new, but there's no curse this time to force him. It feels weightier when it's of his own volition, something he doesn't want to read into right now, or ever. It's just wrong leaving someone like this, tortured and alone. ]
It'll pass. None of these symptoms have lasted. [ It'll be like a fever breaking. Terrible, then over just like that, and he'll start thinking straight again. ] You can apologize when you're better. [ He can stay until he gets better. ]
[ Oh. Aventurine goes where he's guided, head coming to rest against Nehan's shoulder. The smile from before fades, and he stares blankly ahead.
It'll pass, Nehan says. And Aventurine doesn't tell him that the nightmares had come before the hallucinations, or how they've plagued him for weeks now ever since he'd been cut down by Nihility's blade. He's quieter still when he reaches out with his other hand to curl his fingers around Nehan's shirt, grabbing hold of what he can. There's no denying the comfort this closeness brings him, and what that means to him, he can't say. ]
Okay.
[ That's it. That's all he has to respond with. He'll pretend like what Nehan tells him is true, that this is only a temporary affliction. He's being selfish enough as is, no reason to further burden a man so ready to help others and expect nothing else in return.
[ He doesn't expect the gesture to be reciprocated at all, but it makes sense for someone so afflicted. Maybe it's because of the memories they'd swapped, but an inane thought crosses his mind: it isn't fair. Living miserably, 'dying' twice before he found what to live for, and suffering again.
Nehan hasn't thought of the world as kind in years. It still feels wrong. ]
Okay.
[ His voice is soft and a little hoarse, careful where he presses his fingers into Aventurine's hair—because as cold as he is, he knows a little of comfort, not shy with his touch. And there's nothing much to say in moments like this, so when the silence feels too charged, he just hums; nothing special like Robin, but a quiet, idle tune all the same. ]
[ just kidding i came back to give you a crumb of sister lore
The cooling, gentle touch to his hair and Nehan's soothing hums causes Aventurine's eyelids to slowly lower, then close shut. He's so incredibly tired from this week, drained from the torment of his memories, the break-in, the injuries, the hallucinations that had followed after him, on and on and on. It's as if he's weathered every storm in every cosmos, and in the darkness of his closed eyes, he drifts.
And he's reminded of a simpler time, warm desert sands and eager arms pulling him close, keeping him safe. ]
... My sister used to hum to me like this.
[ It's barely a whisper, something that he doesn't fully think about as he begins to slip into unconsciousness. Maybe it's the bone-deep fatigue or the presence of Nehan himself, but Aventurine will find himself free of nightmares just this once as he succumbs to sleep. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
You're preparing those notebooks for the people showing up here soon, aren't you. Even when you're in this state.
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[ Shakily picks the pen back up. ]
no subject
They're not going to heal if you keep pushing yourself. I'll write it.
no subject
[ He hasn't written about the basement hole yet and now that writing duty has been forced away from him he is going to put his head down on his desk and stare at Nehan. ]
no subject
You've been thorough.
[ (derogatory)
Though before he gets to covering the last bit of information, he pauses, and sets his pen down. ] Let me see. I may as well redo your dressings. [ Gestures for his hands!! ]
no subject
He's quiet and his gaze is unmoving while he studies Nehan's face. ]
no subject
What is it?
no subject
[ He's not sure... Everything's a jumbled mess in his head and even the physical touch he's currently receiving isn't an assurance. The apparitions back at the lighthouse had held on to him too, after all, burning at his skin. ]
no subject
He keeps working despite the concern, taking out some balms and ointments. ]
What would prove to you that I'm real?
no subject
When he does finally respond, his voice is quiet. ]
... Staying alive.
no subject
He unscrews the lid of a small tin, applying a poultice to some of the now exposed cuts. It has a faintly numbing sensation and his fingertips are cool to the touch. No burning. ]
You're in luck then. I'm good at surviving.
[ Even if they were the first two people to die this game. ] So are you.
no subject
Aventurine turns his head, looking to the other side. The hand that Nehan holds begins to tremble. ]
I keep seeing them. Even now.
[ His other hand comes up to press at his face, another layer of darkness atop his already tightly closed eyes. ]
no subject
I can give you something to help you sleep. [ Though given how Aventurine seemed to be avoiding his dreams already, he doesn't know how helpful it'd be. He shifts, sitting beside him so he can take a look at his shoulder. Or... just to be a little closer, more available, hand still lingering needlessly against his bandages. ] ...You don't have to look at them.
no subject
I'd just see them in my nightmares.
[ They keep following him, visions of people he's lost or afraid of losing. Talking about this only seems to heighten his anxiety, sends him into a half-delirious state as he finally looks back at Nehan, clear exhaustion written all across his face. ]
You're there too now.
no subject
You're...
[ ...He needs to calm down. He lets out a deep exhale and reconfigures, taking stock of Aventurine's injuries. He can't lean on him when his arms are diced up. Can't grip his shoulders. The best conclusion he can come to on the fly is grabbing him by the face, more forceful than usual. He's weak, but the conviction is there. ]
Pull yourself together. This is real. You're not allowed to be hurt because of me.
no subject
Sorry, Nehan.
[ And he truly does sound remorseful. He lets Nehan take him by the face without resistance, exhaustion having now become him. Aventurine isn't one to admit defeat so easily, but what's the point in lying at this very moment in time?
He had asked if Nehan would become a hallucination because of the plain and simple truth, that the other man has been a hallucination for days now. ]
It's a little too late for that.
no subject
His jaw sets tight as he grips Aventurine's face and stares him down, glaring at this idiot who's smiling and apologizing when he looks like he could keel over from how absolutely worn thin he is. Telling someone he's only known for weeks that somehow he occupies enough of his thoughts to haunt his dreams.
What is he supposed to say to that? What's he supposed to do?
He tentatively shifts his grip, and moves Aventurine's head with a gentle push onto his shoulder, letting it rest there. His hand stays against his hair—it's not strange, or new, but there's no curse this time to force him. It feels weightier when it's of his own volition, something he doesn't want to read into right now, or ever. It's just wrong leaving someone like this, tortured and alone. ]
It'll pass. None of these symptoms have lasted. [ It'll be like a fever breaking. Terrible, then over just like that, and he'll start thinking straight again. ] You can apologize when you're better. [ He can stay until he gets better. ]
no subject
It'll pass, Nehan says. And Aventurine doesn't tell him that the nightmares had come before the hallucinations, or how they've plagued him for weeks now ever since he'd been cut down by Nihility's blade. He's quieter still when he reaches out with his other hand to curl his fingers around Nehan's shirt, grabbing hold of what he can. There's no denying the comfort this closeness brings him, and what that means to him, he can't say. ]
Okay.
[ That's it. That's all he has to respond with. He'll pretend like what Nehan tells him is true, that this is only a temporary affliction. He's being selfish enough as is, no reason to further burden a man so ready to help others and expect nothing else in return.
This is enough. ]
no subject
Nehan hasn't thought of the world as kind in years. It still feels wrong. ]
Okay.
[ His voice is soft and a little hoarse, careful where he presses his fingers into Aventurine's hair—because as cold as he is, he knows a little of comfort, not shy with his touch. And there's nothing much to say in moments like this, so when the silence feels too charged, he just hums; nothing special like Robin, but a quiet, idle tune all the same. ]
no subject
The cooling, gentle touch to his hair and Nehan's soothing hums causes Aventurine's eyelids to slowly lower, then close shut. He's so incredibly tired from this week, drained from the torment of his memories, the break-in, the injuries, the hallucinations that had followed after him, on and on and on. It's as if he's weathered every storm in every cosmos, and in the darkness of his closed eyes, he drifts.
And he's reminded of a simpler time, warm desert sands and eager arms pulling him close, keeping him safe. ]
... My sister used to hum to me like this.
[ It's barely a whisper, something that he doesn't fully think about as he begins to slip into unconsciousness. Maybe it's the bone-deep fatigue or the presence of Nehan himself, but Aventurine will find himself free of nightmares just this once as he succumbs to sleep. ]