[For days, he tried. He really did. He drifted a lot, that was undeniable, spent a lot of time in his own window rather than the clinic's, staring at nothing. He and his new hoodie were more or less inseparable outside of bathing or sleeping (and hopefully a bit of laundry), but he at least had the sense to wear something underneath so it didn't end up completely rank. It was a security blanket, a center of stability almost as much as Teddy was. It kept him cemented when Teddy was out of the apartment or busy or just- couldn't stand to be around him.
That happened sometimes too, he knows. And he couldn't blame him; he knows he's horrible company, he understands that well, even if he lacks the capacity to fix it. He's trying. But trying often isn't enough, and it feels like he's fighting a losing battle, sometimes.
There has to be a way to make it up to him. Something you can do.
If you can't fix yourself, can't you fix the world for him...?
But sometimes, he was okay. Sometimes he smiled and touched and breathed normalcy, dug out his own equilibrium and found Teddy there waiting for him, just like always. Those were the good times, those were the days where Teddy smiled back and held his hand and he felt a little more alive than before.
And then he'd say something wrong, or think about the week before and withdraw into himself against his will. His confidence would falter, the life in his eyes would dim, and he'd go back to the window like it's where he belonged.
It is. You belong there. But he doesn't deserve that.
He deserves everything.
And that's why, one day while Teddy's out of the apartment, he breaks his promise. But for good reason, he tells himself, pleased for thinking of it, his eyes glowing with the light of a spell for the first time since Teddy had stopped him that first day. He'll be happy.
When Teddy comes home, he'll find a surprise waiting for him: a family dinner, the Kaplan clan crowded around their little table in the kitchenette area, food being dished out- a huge, elaborate stir fry dish, Teddy's favourite. They're laughing, smiling, happy to be here.
And at the head of the table, the guest of honour, is Ms. Altman herself.]
[Action, October 25th] ~skipper do~
That happened sometimes too, he knows. And he couldn't blame him; he knows he's horrible company, he understands that well, even if he lacks the capacity to fix it. He's trying. But trying often isn't enough, and it feels like he's fighting a losing battle, sometimes.
There has to be a way to make it up to him. Something you can do.
If you can't fix yourself, can't you fix the world for him...?
But sometimes, he was okay. Sometimes he smiled and touched and breathed normalcy, dug out his own equilibrium and found Teddy there waiting for him, just like always. Those were the good times, those were the days where Teddy smiled back and held his hand and he felt a little more alive than before.
And then he'd say something wrong, or think about the week before and withdraw into himself against his will. His confidence would falter, the life in his eyes would dim, and he'd go back to the window like it's where he belonged.
It is. You belong there. But he doesn't deserve that.
He deserves everything.
And that's why, one day while Teddy's out of the apartment, he breaks his promise. But for good reason, he tells himself, pleased for thinking of it, his eyes glowing with the light of a spell for the first time since Teddy had stopped him that first day. He'll be happy.
When Teddy comes home, he'll find a surprise waiting for him: a family dinner, the Kaplan clan crowded around their little table in the kitchenette area, food being dished out- a huge, elaborate stir fry dish, Teddy's favourite. They're laughing, smiling, happy to be here.
And at the head of the table, the guest of honour, is Ms. Altman herself.]