Whispers Quentin, back to him, still carding his hair, now bending over him in a protective furl.
"Oh honey, oh lovely, you're safe, they're all safe, they're healing now, and every one of them is so strong. You've got to know Scott has just shrugged. Iris has her feet up and is drinking gin. Fives is just worried for you and Nico is more than anyone gives him credit for."
"Fives and Nico," he breathes, turns a little more so the bone grinds into his eyesocket, makes stars jump behind his eyelid.
"They're both skewered on echo damage, the toll means pain with no source and their brains account for it by drowning them in the worst of their pasts. When they remember what did happen they blame themselves. They're being tortured and I can't do anything but wait. Of course they're strong enough to keep going, they're fucking used to torture, that makes it worse."
He shouldn't tell, shouldn't share either of their secrets. But he can't bear it, holding in the rage and the helplessness alone, knowing no one else will even notice, because neither of them think their pain matters, because both of them want to hide it. The toll is just an inconvenience. No will know and no one will care that he hurt people, brutally, who won't be just fine after a week, for no skullfucking reason at all.
He breathes, quietly, because there's just not anything that can fix that. Alec's PTSD group doesn't always cut it.
"Oh God. You'd cut yourself apart to save the rest of us. This will be hard, but you've got to keep breathing. That's the only thing you have to do right now."
"I wish I could," he croaks, and means the first thing.
He breathes, though, shakily but deliberately.
"I wouldn't be so fucking weak for it," he adds after a minute, jaw tight in embarrassment. "But Horseriver just - he was in my head, did I tell you?" Normally Jedao would remember everywhere he'd put pieces of information like that, but he is not at his best. "Since November. He was good for me."
Quentin seems as likely as anyone to believe it. Jedao thinks maybe he needs that too, needs to bear witness to someone who won't scoff or doubt.
There's a subtle rush of relief to him, at even this little fellow-feeling, but then he gropes, less deftly than usual, catches on of Quentin's wrists.
"No - he needs to hear voices, even mostly-asleep, it helps him know he's here -" And not somewhere else. Which is why Jedao's voice is worn out as it is.
He starts the Secret History- children telling awful lies, buying themselves trouble, learning to only just see beyond the bridges of their own noses. It's not a very comforting book at all but he reads it tenderly and with such empathy and affection that it becomes a window into what he was like at that age.
He's too wrung out to really follow Quentin from one paragraph to another, but the tenderness in his voice is a balm, and Jedao has just enough presence of mind to make sure he reads it for himself with more attention later.
He doesn't quite sleep - he has to be ready, if Nico stirs, to remind and reassure him. But the drowsing does him some good.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2018-07-29 01:10 am (UTC)Whispers Quentin, back to him, still carding his hair, now bending over him in a protective furl.
"Oh honey, oh lovely, you're safe, they're all safe, they're healing now, and every one of them is so strong. You've got to know Scott has just shrugged. Iris has her feet up and is drinking gin. Fives is just worried for you and Nico is more than anyone gives him credit for."
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Date: 2018-07-29 01:35 am (UTC)"They're both skewered on echo damage, the toll means pain with no source and their brains account for it by drowning them in the worst of their pasts. When they remember what did happen they blame themselves. They're being tortured and I can't do anything but wait. Of course they're strong enough to keep going, they're fucking used to torture, that makes it worse."
He shouldn't tell, shouldn't share either of their secrets. But he can't bear it, holding in the rage and the helplessness alone, knowing no one else will even notice, because neither of them think their pain matters, because both of them want to hide it. The toll is just an inconvenience. No will know and no one will care that he hurt people, brutally, who won't be just fine after a week, for no skullfucking reason at all.
no subject
Date: 2018-07-29 01:52 am (UTC)He breathes, quietly, because there's just not anything that can fix that. Alec's PTSD group doesn't always cut it.
"Oh God. You'd cut yourself apart to save the rest of us. This will be hard, but you've got to keep breathing. That's the only thing you have to do right now."
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Date: 2018-07-29 02:03 am (UTC)He breathes, though, shakily but deliberately.
"I wouldn't be so fucking weak for it," he adds after a minute, jaw tight in embarrassment. "But Horseriver just - he was in my head, did I tell you?" Normally Jedao would remember everywhere he'd put pieces of information like that, but he is not at his best. "Since November. He was good for me."
Quentin seems as likely as anyone to believe it. Jedao thinks maybe he needs that too, needs to bear witness to someone who won't scoff or doubt.
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Date: 2018-07-29 02:17 am (UTC)He sighs, and twists his hands in the air, casting so that;
"Hospital bed charm. He won't hear us, and a sound will chime when he wakes."
He can talk properly, can stroke his jaw and promise, I'll go check on Fives.
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Date: 2018-07-29 02:24 am (UTC)"No - he needs to hear voices, even mostly-asleep, it helps him know he's here -" And not somewhere else. Which is why Jedao's voice is worn out as it is.
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Date: 2018-07-29 03:32 am (UTC)"Then I should get reading. Don't you think?"
Jedao should rest.
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Date: 2018-07-29 07:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-07-29 07:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-07-29 07:54 am (UTC)He doesn't quite sleep - he has to be ready, if Nico stirs, to remind and reassure him. But the drowsing does him some good.