selfhelp | [IC] Appointments Post

[Billy makes a vaguely affirmative noise at that, his lips curling up the barest sliver, not sure if he should really be smiling or not. He does relax a tiny bit, though; he does everything in fractions these days, bits and pieces, like his whole life is a tiny progress bar on dial-up. He's been getting better, then worse, then better again, and today's been a bad day, but... marginally better now, since he'd left the window.

He wants to keep it that way. And while it's been so easy to just remain silent and let Teddy fill the void, because his own voice, his own words, are so terrifying now, he feels like... god, he could really be doing so much more. It isn't right to leave it all on him. He might not be able to do much, and he might not have much to say, but...]

If we're in Lórien, who was our Gandalf?

[....

Shit. Shit. That wasn't right. That was- that's depressing, that's a sad scene, shit why did he say that- he should've- called him Sam, or- god he can't even joke properly anymore-

The gears are already turning in his head, mentally kicking and cursing himself, seeming to shrink down further into the hoodie.]

[It's something that Teddy can see from the corner of his eye, the way Billy shrinks, like he'd said something wrong. It's why Teddy decides to butt in fast, letting their hands sway playfully as they walk, a distracting motion.]

Who is our Gandalf, you mean. He comes back as the white wizard, remember? Fought an epic battle against the Balrog and came out on top.

So, if I had to pick someone...

[... Huh. That's a tough one. Honestly, he's thinking that Billy might be Gandalf, this possession is the Balrog, and he's Gwaihir in this case, but that's probably not something Billy wants to hear.]

I don't know... Can we really pick someone for Gandalf?

...I guess not.

[It was a dumb suggestion, anyway. Really, he's just grateful that it didn't completely ruin the mood- that Teddy had taken his comment in stride instead of freaking out over it, unlike some people. He gives Teddy's hand a light squeeze, grateful and relieved, and continues walking with him. Easier now. So much easier.]

Dr. Strange is probably the only one who'd qualify back home...

I'm trying to imagine Dr. Strange in a Gandalf costume.

[...]

And actually? It's really easy to do. [He gives Billy's hand a squeeze in return; he's here, it's okay.]

Now, who's lone wolf enough for Aragorn...

Nate could do it. He got us all together... started us on this journey...

[It's nice to think on that, instead of dwelling on their current situation. To think back on happier, more innocent and carefree days, when they were just a bunch of free-spirited fanboys learning how to use their powers, how to work together as a team, how to not get killed by Kang the freaking Conqueror. And then Kang had come, and they'd killed him, and Nate had left...

Things started changing very fast after that, and... he can't really say that it was for the better, even with how far they'd come. If he were to cast his spell again - and he won't, he won't, no more magic - he'd wish for that.]

"Those Canaan days..."

[It's murmured, idly and absently and not-quite there: half-sung, even, like he's starting to drift again. He glances off to the side, steps growing sluggish.]

[Teddy glances sidelong at Billy; he has no idea where that line came from, as he knows pretty much all the Tolkien-songs and that isn't one of them. But he knows that Billy is drifting, so he shakes their hands between them in an effort to snap him out of it.]

Hey, hey, don't leave me alone trying to think up who could be who here.

[Don't leave me alone again.]

You're definitely a Frodo. Guess that makes me Sam.

[Billy jerks his head back to look at Teddy again when he feels the handshake, and it takes him a moment to find his center again. What had he been...

...oh. Right, right...]

I can't... argue with that. I always liked Sam.

[His thumb brushes over the back of Teddy's hand. Thank you, it says. I'm sorry.]

Frodo wouldn't have gotten very far without Sam...

Yeah...

[Teddy lets his gaze drift to his feet at that little quote. He's been helping Billy all this time, so - so maybe it's kind of, kind of true, but... Would that still be true after all this? Was it true before? Or was he just holding out for that... ideal of his, that... fake, that...]

You shouldn't make fun; I was being serious. [He voices it like he's just returning the quote, not really putting thought into it.]

[The tone strikes a chord in Billy, sharp and severe and half-panicked; his breath hitches, his grip tightening, and he's stunned silent for a long moment.

It's just the quote. It's the quote, right? Teddy's not- he's not really- he doesn't think-

but why wouldn't he

God, let him do just one thing right today. Just try.]

S... so was I.

[Before Billy speaks, Teddy lifts his eyes and straightens, jaw clenched, but otherwise looking ahead and normal. In his mind, however, the whispers return; idiot, idiot, you worried him, you're not supposed to do that, you're supposed to be strong and brave and always there for him, this is why he wanted that other you, why you'll never be good enough, never for him, never -

"S... So was I."

The whispers break, and he looks down at Billy for a moment while his jaw slacks. Was... he being serious? Or was he just finishing the quote? Teddy only just then notices the way Billy's gripping his hand, the way he looks at him, and -

You did worry him, idiot

But he said that... like he meant it. Teddy clutches onto that, and he leans in to bump his temple against Billy's, briefly. He wants to stop and ask if he really was serious about that. He wants to just touch their foreheads together and shut his eyes and not move for a while.

But this is enough, and he can't ask too much. He already did too much.]

... I think "Teddy the Brave" sounds kind of dumb, but okay.

...Sometimes... what's dumb is also true. At least... I think so.

[He's brave. He's so brave and strong for doing this, for fighting Billy, coaxing him back to reality, then standing by his side all this time when it didn't entirely work. Billy doesn't know how he can be as strong as he is... only that he's so, so lucky to have this support. He just wishes he wasn't so out of it most of the time, that his head was screwed on properly so he could actually show it.

It makes these moments, the moments where he recognizes it and can try to express those lost and pent-up feelings, even more important.]

[This is one of the few times Billy had said something like that. Teddy always wants to reach out and cling to those moments, those times when Billy seems to indicate that it really is him that he loves, not the face of the ideal he could have. He's calling him brave, and he's doing his best... And Teddy hates himself for the whispers that keep spinning round and round in his head, jeering and dragging him down and making these little shifts in his body necessary.

But maybe he can believe a little. Because these moments are so few, so precious, that maybe he's allowed to hold on to them.

It's why Teddy keeps their heads together, even if he doesn't respond. When he does lift his head away, he tilts it upward to gesture ahead of them.]

There's the village.

[The moment of calm is broken in three simple words, and Billy reluctantly draws back and away from Teddy's touch, lifting his free hand to tug the hood back into place, further concealing his face from view. It's better. Safer. Even if he misses the touch like burning he feels like if even just one person sees his face out in the open it'll be like the spell's started all over again. Things are different, he knows - he's with the real Teddy now, and no more magic - but that doesn't make it okay. Doesn't make it safe.

There's the village.

He definitely feels like he's walking into Mordor.]

[Teddy tightens his grip as he walks onward, knowing that this would be another hurdle to get over. A few of these people were the ones who were affected, after all, though he hasn't seen much of them. He hopes they're not out today, either; just one glimpse and Billy might just try fleeing, go straight back to that room and to that window...]

There aren't a lot of people out today. [There's never a lot of people out. Not compared to New York, at least, and it always feels a little strange.] Probably too cold right now. It's not that long of a walk from here, anyway. [Just down the path, across the bridge, and turning a corner. They don't even have to go through the plaza or anything.]

[For a long moment, Billy keeps his hand on the hood, holding it in place, almost blocking his face entirely with its position - not so far that he can't see where he's going, but close. Even if they're traveling through a secluded area, the fact that they're in the village proper now just cements his fear in place. He probably won't be able to relax again until they hit the apartment.]

That's... that's good. I don't think anyone would want to see me, anyway.

[And honestly? He hopes that's the case, self-deprecating as it sounds.]

You never know.

[He leaves it at that, because he's pretty sure Billy won't believe his words. Right now, he reminds Teddy of those prisoners you see on TV, the ones that are transferred somewhere and try to hide their face from the camera as much as possible, whether with their hands, their shirt, or whatever. The image makes him want to wince, because Billy's been acting an awful lot like that for the past week. Like he's a prisoner in his own mind, placing himself under arrest and confined in the clinic.

At least they're moving. At least they're in sunlight, and soon, they'll be home. He does nod to anyone who notices him, but otherwise, he doesn't call attention to them. Just leads the way, until the apartment building is in sight.]

[Only once they finally reach the building does Billy regain any semblance of himself, a bit of lift to his shoulders, letting the hood go, though it does stay up for the moment. It's sad when simply not holding something in place to hide himself is a step up, but it is what it is. And once the door shuts behind them, Billy gazes up the stairs, then looks back at Teddy, a sliver of a smile appearing beneath shadowed eyes. In the dark, the way they're not glowing, they might almost look normal.]

Last chance to... take me to the tunnels and throw me in until this wears off.

[He's not sure if he's serious or teasing. He knows which one he'd prefer. And he knows which one Teddy would.]

[Almost. And the tease, as Teddy likes to think that it is a tease, isn't really that funny, considering how awful the tunnels are and how it makes the both of them feel on their good days. He glances at Billy, eyebrows raising slightly, and with Billy looking at him now, he might notice how Teddy's hair, at the roots, is just slightly darker than the rest of it.]

Nope. No throwing you anywhere.

[He looks up at the stairs, takes in a breath for himself, and moves forward.]

[Billy's eyes drift up briefly to the hair - when had that changed? Why was it like that? - but before he can move or even think to comment on it, they're moving. Or rather, Teddy's moving, and Billy has to kick himself into motion before he ends up getting pulled. Maybe Teddy doesn't want to talk about it. Maybe Teddy doesn't want him to notice. Maybe... maybe Teddy doesn't even know.

....

Well, he's got five flights of stairs to decide, at least. Pursing his lips and burrowing back into indecision as usual, he follows silently as he and Teddy climb the steps.]

[With Billy's eyes hooded, Teddy couldn't quite tell if he noticed the difference. He isn't sure if he wants to know the answer, either.

Did Billy... like that look? The slightly darker hair, the extra muscle; was that what he wanted? Teddy can't see himself, but going by what he thinks in his head, it seemed desirable enough. Something worth looking at. Something worthwhile -

Stop.

On about the fourth flight, Teddy looks back at Billy with a little smile.]

Almost there.

[Billy tenses again, suddenly uncertain; they're so close now, and he thought he'd be happy, but with Teddy shifting, and with the floor looming close, and the prospect of being at home with Teddy and the animals and what if the brave front drops and what if he can finally show how he feels and what if we can't do this anymore and then there's the shame, dark and constricting, because why wouldn't he want Teddy to be honest with him? Whatever ends up happening it's because he deserves it, after all. It's only fair, only right.

You tried to kill him. Nothing he could say or do can come close to balancing the scales of that.

Teddy's smiling, and between the build and the hair it's just- it's not right, all of it feels so wrong, and his hand starts to slip in Teddy's grasp as he hesitates. What if... what if he...?]

[Teddy slows down until he comes to a halt in the middle of the stairs. He tightens his grip, not wanting to let go of Billy's hand, but...

No, no, he can't give up now. He's so close, they're so close, the apartment is just right there, just a few more steps... If they can make it this far, then it'd be such a huge step they took. Anything but going back to that jail cell of a clinic room...]

... Billy?

[Billy remains frozen for a long moment, then takes a hesitant half-step back, his eyes darting over Teddy's body from top to bottom, searching, lingering here and there. Trying to find what is and isn't right.]

Are you Teddy?

[It's barely a whisper, frightened and uneasy, and his fingers twitch in Teddy's grasp.]

Is it still you?

[... Shit. Shit shit shit, he did too much, went too far, wasn't subtle enough, look what you're doing to him!

Teddy turns on the stair he's on, hair shifting back to normal and muscle tone decreasing to how he normally look, eyes wide and looking almost afraid as he takes Billy's hand in both of his own. Is - Is he doubting who he is? Does he think -

... Does he want the fake? Does he think of that as the real one?

No, focus.]

Yeah, it... it's me. [He squeezes Billy's hand, giving his hands something to do other than gesture and hold his own arms or something.] It's Teddy.

[But not the one you're looking for.

Shut up.]

Why, is... something wrong?

Edited 2013-10-23 04:17 (UTC)

["Is something wrong", he asks. Billy feels like screaming. What isn't wrong? This panic he's feeling over going back to their place, the fact that Teddy's inexplicably changing, the incredible mess his magic has caused for everyone he loves and cares about, scars around necks (physical or - in Teddy's case - memetic). Lifeless hospital rooms and watching the world through a dusty window, burrowing in soft red hoodies to hide from the world instead of just cold.

Teddy, looking at him like that, telling him who he is, asking if something is wrong.

A muffled, broken sound escapes his lips, a cry or a whimper or something not altogether human, and he wriggles his hand free of Teddy's to reach both of them up to Teddy's face instead. He touches the hair, searching for the unfamiliar dark strands. When he finds none he lets his hands drop to Teddy's shoulders instead, feeling his muscles, following the contours down each arm. Familiar. It's familiar, skin and bone and muscle and structure that he's felt a hundred times before. Better. So much better.

You drove him to this. Whatever he's doing, it's your fault.

Shuddering, because of that lingering fear and because of relief, now, he stops his examination when he reaches Teddy's hands again, fingers curling hesitantly around his thumbs, like he's not sure if he has permission again- like his doubts broke the chance he'd been given. He bows his head, ashamed, hovering just an inch away from Teddy's chest.]

...Sorry... I'm sorry...I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I'm so...

Edited 2013-10-23 04:45 (UTC)

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