selfhelp | [IC] Appointments Post

[Hold the shift, hold the shift and you'll be fine, just hold it -

He tilts his head, just enough to get his mouth free, as there's something just slightly comforting about Billy holding him like that even if there's just a piece of him that's there. Teddy feels guilt of his own, for reacting like that, for making Billy near tears himself when he's cried so much already...

Just hold the shift and you'll be fine.]

Billy? [His voice is still choked and watery, shaky.

A shift and it's fine.]

Just... please, don't do that to yourself. You have people who want to help you... You have me.

[He lifts a hand, slowly, to rest it against Billy's heart, feeling the rhythm there and his own heart automatically pacing itself to match it.]

I'll bully this thing out of you if I have to. Don't think you're alone... please, don't... [Don't do it, please stay, please believe me, I love you, I don't know what I'd do without you - ]

[Teddy's so much stronger than him. It's something he'd known for a long time now, but to see it firsthand again- to watch him change and bring out that strength, it's-

He exhales shakily, shifting his free hand away from Teddy's back and resting it over Teddy's heart, feeling it beat in time with his own, taking comfort in the gentle thump-thump thump-thump of his blood being pumped through his body instead of outside of it, the sound of his life's drum. He feels that they're alive - that they both are - and... that Teddy wants this.

You have me.

Tears spill down his cheeks again, and he doesn't resist them or brush them away, just lets them fall as he trembles helplessly against Teddy. He leans in, seeking him out but afraid of what he'll find, afraid that Teddy will reject his touch after what he'd said. And what right does he have to follow or to draw comfort like that? He's the one who's hurting people, not...

God. God. How did they get so screwed up...?]

I'm here... I-I'm right here... I'll stay. Wh-what do you want me to say? To do? Anything... I'll... anything, Teddy, just believe me...

[When Billy leans in, Teddy doesn't hesitate this time. He wraps both arms around Billy and pulls him against his chest, chin on top of his head, careful with his shoulder. He strokes his hair and shuts his eyes, feeling the remnants of tears behind them and not bothering to shift them away. They're not big enough to fall through his mask.

Watch him push you away. You're not good enough. You weren't ever good enough.

Shut up, shut up.

He doesn't care if he's not the one, if only for an instant. Billy needs this, Billy leaned toward him, sought him out... That's enough.]

I want you to fight. Fight as hard as you can, because this will be tough. No taking the easy way out. Just think about...

[Who you want to be, who you were before this thing took you over, think about what it'd feel like if -

No magic. No easy way out.]

Think about what I said. You have me... I've got you. So let's do this together... okay? We'll solve this.

[Billy practically melts into his arms, slumping gratefully against his boyfriend and closing his eyes. One hand lifts to grip Teddy's shirt, fingers clenching tightly into a fist around the material, needing the physical connection and feeling all the more pathetic for it. He's a horrible person to demand more from Teddy like this, after all this, and when Teddy needs him he just can't-

"Together."

Let's do this together.

The words resonate in him, leaving him stunned and speechless for a long moment. Was that okay? To ask that of Teddy? To rely on him while he sorts out his own mixed-up head? This is what Teddy wants?

It doesn't seem right. But Teddy had offered. Teddy had asked for it. And he trusts Teddy more than anyone else in the world.

Without lifting his head, Billy stirs listlessly against him, his face half-buried in the warmth of Teddy's chest.]

...Things are going to get much, much worse...

[It's a safer quote, a relevant one, and geek references are their safe haven, their familiar territory, and even with his head still such a jumbled mess, it's an easy crutch to fall back on. Teddy deserves his honesty. It could get better. But it could get a lot worse. Even he has no idea.

But he'll fight, if that's what Teddy wants him to do. What he needs him to do. Teddy's worth fighting for.]

Edited 2013-10-20 03:54 (UTC)

[Teddy knows. Even gets the reference, since they seem to be stuck on that scene.

He understands Simon a lot better now.

Following the way it plays in his head, Teddy nods, though it only feels like a bit of pressure against the top of Billy's head, then moves one hand back to brush at Billy's cheek. He can't see the tears from this angle, but it's easy to remember where they fell.]

We'll get through this. [They will. For all of Teddy's doubts - They've gotten through terrible things before. They'll get through this. Even if it gets worse.]

[His response is slight, but pressed up against Teddy like that, the blond can probably feel it- the way Billy relaxes, trembling briefly before settling down again, feeling overwhelmingly touched by the level of support he's receiving. He still wonders if it isn't right, but... he's done fighting it. He's done arguing. He's trying to battle with the wrong foe, here.

His doubts, his mind, his power... they're the real enemies. So after a long, hesitant moment, he finally just nods, tilting his head enough to press his cheek into Teddy's gentle touch. He doesn't know how, and he doesn't know how long, but... they have to make it. Somehow. Someday.

Together, right...?]

[Like this, it almost feels like Billy really is shining through. It's enough to make Teddy believe his words more, find a tiny flicker of hope when the fake had suffocated the life of the roaring blaze out.

He tilts his head downward to press a long kiss against Billy's hair, enough to be felt, and brushes his thumb against his boyfriend's cheek. Billy believes him, even if just for this moment, so Teddy will believe in him, too, just like he always has.

Together.]

[In the end, they'd remained at the clinic for a while; Billy preferred his self-inflicted exile, though he hadn't said as much. He'd felt... safer, in a less-populated area, away from people he could hurt or those he'd hurt in the past. The days had blurred together somewhat, and he'd spent a great deal of them gazing out the window watching the birds, or listening to Teddy talk, or just... sitting, staring at nothing, lost in thought. Feeling the weight in his own head and pushing at it until it hurt. It was still there, persistent, frustratingly real. If not for Teddy, he'd probably have given up on trying by now.

If not for Teddy. Because Teddy is there, right there beside him every step of the way, just like he'd promised. It makes Billy feel one part grateful and one part ashamed at the same time, for giving up, for not waiting the way Teddy waits for him now. His possession, whatever this thing in his mind is, is just a feeble excuse for his own weakness. He'd failed, and... Teddy's still here.

That's why, finally, he's decided that it's time to go home. Teddy doesn't deserve this kind of exile; he's always thrived around other people, drew energy and affection and love from those he cares about. Trapping him in the clinic, away from everyone, stuck only with a few people to talk to, one of them being utterly mental, just isn't right. And even Billy, absent and self-pitying and- let's face it, crazy- has noticed the slight changes occurring every once in a while in his boyfriend. He has yet to make note of it out loud - Teddy can do as he pleases, Billy refuses to dictate what he tries or changes or shifts - and they're subtle enough that sometimes he misses them, but...

...it just doesn't feel right, that's all. So finally, one day - today - he turns away from the window for the first time in hours to seek Teddy out. His eyes are brown today, and exceptionally clear, with only a glimmer of pale blue remaining around his irises to betray the fact that he's still not quite right.]

...Teddy...?

[If not for taking up offers to eat, talk, or just plain get away for a little while, Teddy might have gone insane. Not from lack of affection or contact, though that would certainly play a role, but from his own uncertainty. There's still a haze of it around his mind, one that makes him ask questions that no one wants to hear, wanting to change to suit whatever they wanted of him. But at least it let him believe that some people still valued who he was.

The haze is not important to the one surrounding Billy's head, sometimes completely hiding him from the rest of the world and sometimes letting him peek in from a window. It's why he'd never said a word, just tried to figure out what Billy wanted out of him by changing himself slowly. Hazel eyes one day. A smaller nose another. Dirty-blond hair the next. Small little things that he'd shift slowly, enough to make it look natural, not wanting to be caught. Sometimes he'd get a response, somethings he wouldn't. It was pretty impossible to tell, thus utterly frustrating, as much as it had been when they first met and Teddy had no idea what he wanted.

The change today is in the muscle build of his body - it's a little more pronounced, like it had been when they met. He didn't interact with the fake Teddy very much, but he knew that he'd been quiet, strong, supportive, and capable, such a contrast from the broken person who tried talking Billy out of it. Maybe if he looked stronger? Maybe...

Still, Billy hadn't noticed. Billy hadn't noticed a lot of things. Sometimes it felt like Teddy would talk to a brick wall, and - and it was fine, he knew that Billy was struggling. But what he'd give to have the real, expressive Billy back, who'd sigh in exasperation or gesture with his hands while he spoke or talk animatedly and -

Teddy had promised that he'd be there for him, work together with him and see this thing through with him. And he has no intention on breaking it. It's just... it's hard. It's so, so very hard, harder than the internal debate and doubts he has with himself. It hurts to see the man he loves struggling so much, with the possession and with himself. If there was some other way he could help...

That makes Teddy blink and lift his head from the sixth book he'd been reading since their stay at the clinic, marking his place with him thumb. It's the first time Billy had looked at him in hours, even when Teddy would call him or try to talk to him...]

I'm here. What is it?

[Billy lets his gaze drift over Teddy's body, really seeing him for the first time- seeing the new muscle, absently wondering if he'd been working out while Billy wasn't looking or if this had been shifted. He hadn't been that big before. He wondered, too, if this was for Teddy's own sake, or...

He shakes it off, letting his eyes drop to his lap, pushing aside those concerns. It's not his place to question Teddy anymore. Even if he-

No. No. He can do whatever he wants. It's fine.

It's fine.]

I think... we should go home.

[Teddy sees the way he's looking him over, taking note of it. Did... that mean he liked it? It wasn't quite an appreciative gaze, but it was something. Something to make note of.

But what really sticks out at him is what he says when Billy looks away again. There's a small pause from Teddy as he lets that sink in. They should go home... It's been three weeks since Teddy has seen their place, their kids - pets (he'd wanted to see them, badly, but with all this going on, he had to ask Kate to watch over them), their - his room... And strangely enough, he'd missed it terribly. He might not ever think of it as his real home, but it was his and Billy's, something they made all on their own, placed little pieces of themselves in and shared new and old memories alike. It was where they started to shed their youthful innocence and step into the world of adulthood and independence together, it was where they laughed and cried together, shared all kinds of secrets, some whispered to the air as they shared stories of each other's lives, some pressed to damp skin as they made love.

It was shelter, and with Billy, it was home. And he missed it.

So Teddy closes his book, knowing he'd find his place later, and sets it aside, rising from his chair to get closer to Billy and touch his shoulder.]

I'm fine with that. [He wants to crack a joke, something like "I think our butts were going to fuse with the chair and windowsill if we sat there any longer", but would Billy appreciate that? Did he ever? There was always that touch of exasperation that Teddy always read as fond, but -

No, shut up, it's fine, it's not important right now.]

... I, um. I actually brought you something yesterday... for something like this.

[There's that guilt again, the wave of concern and stress and you're a horrible boyfriend and you don't deserve him and you've trapped him here and stop being selfish. Even now, Teddy's only going because Billy's finally suggested it, rather than choosing to go on his own. He's bound himself to Billy's choices, and Billy... does not make great choices.

He is this time, though. Today he is. He's determined. For Teddy's sake.

I want today... to be good for him.

When Teddy speaks up the second time, Billy looks up again, trying to conceal his guilt, trying to look, to be as normal as possible. He knows he's still too much of a mess inside and out to really pull it off, but the closer he gets, the better off Teddy will be, he figures. Maybe he'll smile again. Maybe they'll go home and curl up in front of the fire and cuddle and kiss and it'll be normal and perfect and

Normal doesn't exist.

Perfection is an illusion.

Stop it.

Stop it.

Teddy's waiting for you.]

What is it?

[Teddy doesn't move until Billy answers him, making sure that he was heard and his words were clear. The fact that they were makes a little smile come up, and he brushes the back of his fingers against Billy's temple before he moves again, this time back to the bed. Underneath it is something that he picked up while he was out for a little while, something that caught his eye as something Billy might like. He hopes so, anyway... He at least knows his size and preference: a size too large so that he can burrow and feel warmest in, pockets since his hands tend to get cold easily, a hood, and red, his favorite color, though a little darker than his cape.

Yes, it's a hoodie that he pulls from the bag, one that he holds by the shoulders as he walks back to Billy, showing it off for him.]

It's been getting colder outside. I figured you'd need this.

[For a moment, Billy can only stare, blinking rapidly. He feels like he might cry and he is determined, just determined not to. Who cries over a stupid hoodie?

And it's not stupid- not in the slightest. It's perfect. The right size, the right colour, the right design. It's a gift from Teddy, to someone who has shown no inclination to return such a favour, no sign of even improving. "For something like this." Like he'd believed that this moment was coming, that Billy would be ready to leave this cold room and go back to where he belongs.

You don't belong there, you belong in here, or in the tunnels, or in that prison, you-

Stop.

Not now.

No... Teddy believes in him. Enough to get him this. Enough to wait for him. Enough to stand by him, take care of him, guard him and make sure no one can hurt him while he can't protect himself. Hesitantly Billy reaches out to accept the hoodie, brushing his fingers over the soft material, feeling the warmth of it, drawing it close to his body like it's the most precious gift anyone has ever given him in his life. It's just a stupid hoodie.

But god, god. It means so much more right now.

Shit, he might cry anyway.]

...yeah... thanks.

[Teddy's observant enough to recognize the signs, though he makes no move to point it out or ask if he's all right. Instead, he slides an arm around Billy's shoulders and pull him against his side, enough so that his ear is against his heart, though that in particularly wasn't intentional.

It looks like... maybe, he made the right choice, what with the way Billy's holding it.]

How about... we leave in five minutes. That should give us time to pack up what we brought.

[Sure, he might be willing to do what Billy wants to do. But Teddy wants to gently push him along, too, make sure that he gets up and moves when he makes that decision, give a certain time limit so that they won't stall, so that whatever's got a hold of him won't make that energy fade into nothing.

He believes in him, believes in him with everything he has, even if it's hard. But that doesn't mean he doesn't need a little help when he stumbles, and Teddy's happy to help him up.]

Five minutes.

[Billy repeats it to himself quietly, closing his eyes for a long moment and indulging in the joint comfort of the hoodie held against him and Teddy's arm around his body. He listens to his boyfriend's heartbeat and ticks off the seconds, one, two, three, four, five, thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump...

Five minutes. it's what he needed; the prospect of climbing off the window sill is terrifying, even if he'd suggested it, and the idea of leaving the room even moreso. He'd spent days watching the world carry on without him for days now, as if he doesn't exist- as if it's perfectly content to continue turning with or without him. Preferably without, he figures. Inside, looking out, it certainly seems a lot brighter than it did the week before, when he'd been practically the walking dead.

Doubt floods his heart again, clenching around it like a vice - that he shouldn't go, that he's not ready, that the village doesn't deserve to have a monster and a mess like him walking around freely - and his grip tightens around the soft fabric, a new lifeline, a placebo for his failing bravery. Teddy believes. Teddy's here for him. Teddy won't leave unless he gets up and goes. And Teddy... Teddy deserves to be free of this place.]

Five minutes... I'll be ready.

[Even if he has to drag himself every step of the way, he's going to do this.]

I'll get my stuff together.

[He lets Billy indulge a little longer, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying it, too. Feeling his boyfriend snuggled against his side like they were sitting on the couch together and watching a movie instead of taking their first real steps into the world again... It's a comfort, something that soothes his worries just a little.

But Teddy doesn't want this to last too long, despite everything else saying otherwise. He rubs Billy's forearm a few times, then slowly leans away so that his sudden movement won't jar him too much, and moves away to get his own things together. Clothes of his own, the books he'd read in the infinite downtime, a few toiletries, some snacks he'd brought... everything else already belonged to the clinic, in case their patients needed a long stay.]

[For Billy, "getting ready" is a lot less physical and more about mental prep-work. Anything that belonged to him here had been brought by Teddy or one of his (their?) friends, and he was already wearing most of it- clean(ish) clothes, familiar old runners, the hoodie bundled up in his lap. Anything else, he doesn't care about. What he focuses on, instead, is getting himself off the ledge.

It's harder to be sure, when Teddy lets him go and turns away. He clutches the sweater to his chest and he breathes, in and out, in and out, reminding himself what it's like to be a normal human being and not a disillusioned madman, what it's like to be someone in control of himself instead of... that. That thing he'd been two weeks ago, a physical manifestation of too much power and too many emotional problems in one body. He thinks, long and hard, no more magic, because the temptation is still there. He could teleport them home. He could remake this entire area to just look like home. He could create another dog and cat and they'd have their kids and then the rest of the Young Avengers would be there and their parents and it would be-

No more magic. No more magic.

He'd promised. His fist clenches more tightly, nails digging into his palm, the gentle pain of it a reminder to himself. No more. He'd promised.

Five minutes is not, ultimately, a very long time when you're used to spending hours in the company of your own head. He's not counting down, but when he glances away from the window at last to see that four and a half have already passed, he feels a sudden rush of panic, his breath catching in his throat, heartbeat picking up. He can't do this. He can't do this. He can't, he can't, he's not ready, he's better off here, he should just bury himself in the blankets and hide there forever and Teddy should-

....

He looks at Teddy, packing his stuff quietly, expecting them to be leaving in all of thirty seconds. He looks at the hoodie in his lap, warm and comforting and for him, because Teddy believed.

Fifteen.

He glances out the window, one hand pressed against the glass. There's a sparrow on the ledge again, on the other side, pecking absently at a few of the crumbs he'd left there, the remnants of a breakfast he'd barely touched. At least someone could enjoy the effort its baker had put into it. The little bird chirps at him aggressively, as if to say, what are you doing there? and flutters off.

Cheeky, he thinks to himself. It's an unexpected thought, a rebuttal to an attitude that he hasn't felt in what feels like forever.

Seven. Six. Five.

He faces the room again, inhales. Exhales.

Three. Two.

His feet drop, hitting the floor. It's the hardest step he's ever taken in his life, but he takes it. He's standing, he's off the window. He's holding the hoodie-turned-lifeline and he's ready.

One.

Let's go.]

[Teddy stands with his bag over his shoulder when he hears the sound he'd been hoping to hear. The sound of feet hitting the floor, of Billy finally sliding off the windowsill and ready to go. He turns to look at Billy, standing there clutching the hoodie in a vice grip, and for the first time in a long while, he smiles big and wide, genuine enough even without the dimples there. It feels good to smile again. It feels good to see Billy taking this first step on his own, even if Teddy needed to give him a gentle push to get there.

It's a simple act, sliding off a windowsill. Yet Teddy feels like he's never been prouder of his boyfriend.

Rather than stay ahead of him, Teddy steps beside him, resisting the urge to take his hand. He's not sure if Billy wants to do this himself, or if he even wants Teddy to hold his hand, or... whatever else his insecurity spits out at him. But he does stand shoulder to good-shoulder, and he nudges it with his own.]

Ready? Let's go.

[And then the first few steps.

Here we go.]

[Billy hesitates, half-glancing over his shoulder; the window is still there, empty and open, as if it's waiting for him. In comparison, the door to the hallway looms terrifyingly, and he knows which wait he wants to go. It's a much shorter and safer trip back to the window, too.

But the smile Teddy's had on his face when he turned to face him... it was a bigger smile than he'd seen for weeks. It was real, and in this moment of glorious yet frightening clarity he recognized how rare it was these days for Teddy to give him an honest smile. He hasn't done anything to coax it out, after all.

He turns away from the window, looking at Teddy instead, shoulders brushing together. He wants to take his hand, to draw upon that support, but Teddy isn't offering, and... he's afraid to ask. In case the answer is no, or- or worse- a forced yes. He'd rather walk alone than either of those.

Unable to trust his voice right now, he merely nods slightly, then moves to take his first step towards the door. It's... easier than he expected, now that he's on his feet. Like the threat of gravity itself was the worst hurdle to pass, and now that he's felt the weight of his own body, now that he's grounded, he can move. It's a strange feeling, but he focuses on it. One step, then two, then three, and he's moving. He's walking. He's going outside this room and he's...

...well, he'll worry about the rest when he gets there. One step, quite literally, at a time.]

[The steps are slow at first, and then it seems to just get easier. Teddy keeps at Billy's side, not ahead of him, not behind him, but beside him, where he belongs. Where he always...

Where he always...

They're walking. Billy's walking. They're out of that room and going down the hall, and that's absolutely more than Teddy can ask for. The door isn't far from here, another possible hurdle. But Billy made it this far, and it seems to be getting easier the more that he really moves. Teddy can tell just by watching him from the corner of his eye.

And as they near it, maybe Teddy can't help brushing their fingers together. He wants it, he does, but... should he? He just doesn't know, and that uncertainty is just... it's...

But isn't this...

Where he always...]

[As they walked down the hall, Billy had gradually shifted his iron grip on the hoodie to a loose, almost relaxed one, until finally he felt prepared enough to let it go and put it on, instead. It had taken some effort - his arm was mostly healed and out of the sling as of the last day or so, but it was still stiff and uncomfortable to move most of the time, so he tried to avoid it for the most part. Still, he was stubborn about wearing it, and of course if he struggled too much Teddy was there to help him along. How symbolic, really, of the journey they'd taken thus far. Before long it's on him, a fluffy red cocoon of warmth and safety. He had the hand of his injured arm tucked into a pocket to ease a bit of the weight off of it, and he'd considered putting the other in a pocket as well, but it was the side closest to Teddy. And he still wanted to... but he couldn't...

...dammit...

When they reach the door, Billy falters, half-stumbling and very nearly stopping. This is it. This is the eleventh hour, the last chance to turn back. Once they're outside, he won't be able to go back so easily. He's so afraid of what could be waiting outside that door for him, what the world could be like, what he'll have to do when he finally becomes a part of it again. He almost, almost turns.

But then Teddy's hand brushes against his, and he doesn't even think- he just moves, twisting his wrist to let his fingers make a wild grab for Teddy's, clinging desperately, unable to conceal the way they're trembling. He does stop then, going completely still, holding his breath. Waiting for a reaction, a rejection, waiting for Teddy to pull his hand away or scold him or...

He's so scared. When has he ever been afraid of holding Teddy's hand?

Please don't let me go...]

[Teddy had thought this would happen. Billy slowly coming to a halt, swaying like he's afraid, like he wants to go back, and Teddy nearly just pushes his doubts aside and takes his hand and goes when Billy completes a few of those steps for him.

He looks down at their hands, Billy holding onto his like he needs that support. The little whisper that'd been brushing his mind with doubts shows itself again, he's just scared, it says, he'd do that with anyone, he'd do that with that fake you, but it actually goes unheard.

Billy is holding his hand and it feels like little pieces of himself slide back together. Not whole again, not even close, but - it happened, it's happening.

It only takes a breath for Teddy to close his fingers around Billy's, and he glances upward to give him a smile, not as large but just as real as the last. They're doing this together. Billy and Teddy.

Teddy takes the first few steps, giving his boyfriend's hand a gentle tug as he rests his other hand on the door.]

This is one small step for man... one giant leap for Kaplan kind.

[... Dumb joke. Maybe too dumb.]

[It is a dumb joke, absurdly so, actually, but it's like an icebreaker in the midst of an awkward conversation, a breath of fresh air, and Billy finally breathes. He inhales, and it's a muffled bark of a laugh that escapes, brief and slightly exasperated because really, Teddy, really, and even if it doesn't last, he can feel the difference. His shoulders lift, his fingers shift to twine through Teddy's, and it feels right again. It feels like... he can do this.

There's still a whisper of doubt, of course: that if he were really normal, if he were really himself again, he'd have tossed back a silly quip, another quote, an exasperated comment at such a classic example of Teddy's sense of humour. He doesn't have the peace of mind to be ready for that, not yet.

But he'd laughed. Just for a second, he'd laughed. That's something, right?

He moves again, letting Teddy's tug pull him forward, falling back into step with the blond as the door is pushed open. Sunlight greets him, birds chirp, a chilly autumn wind blows through his hair. He's outside, and that urge to flee back to his window is quieted, somewhat, by the hand curled around his own.

He can do this. They can.]

[Well. Billy didn't let go of his hand, and - he even laughed. There was that exasperation again, one Teddy isn't quite sure about anymore. But it was a laugh, something that was sorely missing for these past few weeks. He'll take anything, especially a laugh. Laughter from Billy, even as small as that, feels like a breath of fresh air.

Though that might be from the fact that the door is open now, and Teddy's already pulled Billy out into the daylight. He takes a few steps, then stops, just to lift his head and look up at the trees, the sound of birds, the wind tussling his hair.

Welcome to Luceti Park.

God, no, one bad joke was enough. Instead, he looks across to Billy, a musing little expression on his face as he observes him quietly. It's the first time he's been outside in nearly two week, only allowing himself to look through glass... How is he doing now?]

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