selfhelp | [IC] Appointments Post

No... no, no, no, I...

[He bows his head, blinking back tears that are getting harder and harder to fight, half-flinching at the touch- not because he doesn't want it, but because he does, and all of his wants are so harmful these days, and he can't hurt Teddy again, he can't. Touching Teddy could get him hurt, but pulling away... would that be worse?

He doesn't know. He doesn't know anything anymore.]

I want you to be happy... I want you to smile... I just... I keep doing everything all wrong... that's why I...

[I should stay away. Away from everyone, away from the town, away from you.

Just leave me there. I don't have to come out. I don't deserve to.]

Bad guys belong in prison, Teddy...

You're not a bad guy, Billy. You keep saying it yourself; you're not meaning the things you're doing, all you're trying to do is make things right. It just doesn't go the way you want them to, because there's something in there [He tilts his chin to indicate to his head - ] that's twisting it up.

[And he could easily... easily smile and be happy. Teddy knows what he looks like when he smiles. He knows his mannerisms when he's happy. He could do it, it'd be so easy.

Right now, though, he doubts it'd be any help. It'd just make Billy feel worse, he's sure.]

Billy... I won't be happy if you're in a prison. I sure as hell won't smile. I'll be happy when this is over... and how can you tell it's over when you're in a place that's suppressing everything?

[He does finally let go, if only to lean back and pick at the carpet, a small frown on his face, thinking back to how the weeks have gone by.]

You might not notice it, Billy, but you've been getting better. You've been... you more times than a couple weeks ago. I think you do fight it, even if you don't feel it happening. It's just... sometimes it overwhelms you, right? And you feel like the only way to make it go away is to do something to yourself, too.

[He shuts his eyes and shakes his head.] I don't... think it's that easy. It's something they did to you, when you... when they... [The image pops into his head, the image of Billy slumped forward, the sound of the monitor letting out a long beep, and how he was so, so still... and Teddy tenses in spite of himself.] Y-You can't fight it if you're down there alone. Not if you don't want them to win.

[He makes himself relax, then glances up at Billy again.]

If they made Wanda, or... If they made me go crazy and stay crazy, would you throw me in a prison, even if I didn't want to hurt anyone? Do you think I should be treated like some kind of monster, even though I couldn't help anything I was doing? How would you want me to be treated?

...I...

[God. Oh god, he'd be just as stubborn about it, wouldn't he? He'd fight, he'd argue, he'd protect Teddy as best as he could from anything, anyone that threatened him, even his own mind. He thinks back to all the times he'd stuck by Teddy and supported him through this and that, the way Teddy was supporting him now, and had done so in the past as well. How he'd felt no fear when Teddy touched him in either form, with super-strength, even knowing that Teddy could hurt him with barely a twitch the wrong way. He'd stayed through his identity crisis, and...

...and the death of his mother...

A lump forms in Billy's throat, thick and heavy, and he swallows it with a stricken expression on his face, unable to look Teddy in the eyes anymore. He'd done that. He'd killed her all over again.

And he's still here.]

I'd feel... exactly the same.

[But it isn't you. It's me. It's me and I've done so much already, and I know I have the power left to do so much more... why risk it? Just for me?

Why am I still worth it, to you?

He doesn't dare ask. Not with Teddy looking at him like that.]

...but... then... what should I do...?

First, stop thinking that locking yourself away is the only way to solve this. Second, have a little more faith. In your friends, in yourself... in me. You're not alone in this, and you've gotten further down the road to you than you think. And I think I'm better prepared for whatever might happen, too.

Third... [Teddy reaches out again, this time to take Billy's hands, his eyes on them while they show something like a tinge of sadness.] Don't just assume there's an easy way to solve a problem, or to make someone happy. Sometimes, these things take time. Sometimes it's hard. I know you were used to fixing things with a wave of your hand for a while... but I think you're starting to get that life isn't that easy. Sometimes you can't fix it.

I think if you accept all that... it'll be easier to beat out that thing in your head telling you to do all these things. [He raises his brow, his grip tightening a little.] Okay?

[Billy doesn't answer for a while, his gaze fixated on Teddy's hands around his. Holding him, supporting him. Taking care of him like always.

Sometimes you can't fix it. He wonders, quietly, what that means for him, though he's sure that wasn't Teddy's intent. Maybe he can't be fixed, either. Maybe he can't get better. Maybe all of this is a waste.

...but...

Slowly, hesitantly, he lets his eyes drift upwards, seeking Teddy's once more. He's so sad, but... so determined, too. So strong. After this. After everything. His grip is strong, and his voice, and his words, and...

...and Billy had seen, for the first time in a long while, a hidden fragility there, signs of a wall of strength being chipped away, bit by bit. By him, by what he's become.

That. That... is what he needs to fix. The part of Teddy that he's breaking, a little more every day. And he needs to be strong enough to make it better.

These things take time.

It'll be hard.

...but...

I can fix it, can't I...?

Silently, he adds it to his list. Pushed right to the top, circled, underlined, highlighted. With a footnote. Slowly.

And out loud, he murmurs:]

...Okay.

... Okay.

[Teddy bows his head and lets out a long sigh, shoulders relaxing. This is better than Billy saying he should lock him away and never turn back, that someone should kill him... everything that makes Teddy's stress only build more, and he's not sure how long he'll last until he snaps or breaks down or whatever.

At least he already let everything out in the restroom. That helped a little, even if he feels weaker for it.

And he'll stay. Maybe he can talk to someone over the journals, but - he'll stay. For Billy's sake, for his own sake. Because he loves him, still loves him beyond a shadow of a doubt, and he is not going to let a possession ruin the one thing he has left, the person he loves more than anything else in the world.

He's not leaving.

He promised.]

[Two days isn't much time, in the grand scheme of things, but it's long enough to make a difference, apparently. Billy's slept more, as if afraid of what his waking self is capable of, but as a result his time awake is more coherent, more clear, more attentive than before. He feels... more like himself, bit by bit, with every conversation, his relapses into the darkness of his own head falling out of the majority for the first time since he found himself back in Luceti, alone.

He's not better, he knows. He can still feel the difference, the presence of something overwhelmingly powerful, too much for even a reality bender to handle. But it's... settled, for now. And he finds that he likes it that way.

He's still keeping himself very much isolated, besides Teddy, but he doesn't feel the same discomfort when he's left on his own. It sort of feels like, the more that time passes since he'd- since he'd re-learned how to value his own life, the more he develops his independence. He used to have a lot more of it, but... well, Teddy had said it best. These things take time.

And he is getting better.

Today, waiting for Teddy to come home in the early evening, Billy is tucked up on the sill of the open window in his room, one foot braced against the side to keep him balanced, the other dangling over the edge. He's watching the sunset, and whenever he hears it, he whistles an echo of a bird calling from one of the taller trees beside the building. Misty is curled up around a little blanket on the bedside table he'd moved over to the window to help him climb up, since his arm still isn't one hundred percent, and he has one hand buried in her fur, scratching just the way she likes it, judging by the way she purrs.

It's... peaceful. Calm. Like everything's normal, everything's great.

Another good day.]

[In contrast, Teddy found little sleep in those nights, not only to keep an eye on Billy, but also because his dreams are no longer the content ones he'd usually have, sometimes dotted by nightmares of the Cube and his mother and the war. Now there's the kidnapping, his fake killing him with Billy saying it was better this way, and recently, his mother disappearing, asking him why he let that happen to her, tears running down her cheeks.

He considers it a good thing that he can easily shift out signs of this, even though he feels a bit like he's dead on his feet. More often than not, he dozed off on the bench he sat on, or at the fountain's edge, with Optimus licking at his face to wake him up. His dog is an active one, and he hadn't been on a walk in far too long. It was showing, and Teddy wanted him to work it off. Really, OP did most of the work by playing on his own while Teddy kept taking power naps, only to be woken when the dog got lonely and unsettled by the lack of activity.

Finally, however, they're back at the apartment. Maybe Teddy can sleep on the couch again... Maybe, if it was a good day for Billy which, when he left, it seemed to be. He talked more, actually acknowledge that Teddy was leaving and would be back. Looked at him. Teddy's eyes were green at the time.

They're blue now, having not found the energy to keep up with both keeping the fatigue off his face and shifting colors and shapes. So he looks normal as he unlocks the door and walks in, Optimus already trotting inside with a wagging tail.]

Hey, I'm... [He trails off when he sees Billy on the windowsill, yet it's different from before. Billy's too far outside the window, one leg dangling, the other on the sill, and just a tilt to one side could make him fall, and with him saying he wasn't going to use magic, he - what if he - ]

Billy? [Teddy tries not to sound panicked when he moves to the window, one hand reaching out to hold Billy by the arm of his hoodie when he's close enough. At least - At least if he fell, he could be caught, and god, what if he was trying to - ]

[Billy jumps at the sudden grab, tilting sideways- though thankfully it's towards the pull of Teddy's hand, rather than over the edge. Disturbed by all the movement around her, Misty jumps down and scampers out of the room, but Billy doesn't even notice; his attention is on Teddy, his expression startled and confused. Why did he look so upset...?]

Wh-what? What did I do?

[His gaze darts around the room, searching for any signs that something was wrong. Had he accidentally cast another spell? Oh god, what mess has he caused this time?]

What? You...

[Teddy had taken a step forward and wrapped his free arm around Billy's waist so that he could fall against him instead of the floor, and from there, he looks down at Billy's face, then at the windowsill, where he could've easily tumbled to the other side and...]

You were... [But when he says it in his head, "too close to the edge", it sounds... so dumb. And with how confused Billy looks (is that it?), he's sure he got it wrong. So, Teddy narrows his eyes and looks to the side, all kinds of things running through his head - idiot stupid dumbass you made a big deal out of nothing.] We're... high up, so...

[Billy pauses, glancing over his shoulder, out the window. Yes, they are high up. Very much so. It's actually what he liked about it; it reminded him of home, of the high-rise apartment he grew up in, eleven floors of glorious height to watch the city from, a window to climb out of and take off into the-

...oh.

He purses his lips, lifting his hand to rest on Teddy's chest, and uses the support to carefully pull his leg back into the room, sliding off the windowsill and dropping down onto the carpeted floor, bare feet firmly planted. He looks down, not quite sure how to feel about the exchange.]

...I wouldn't... have jumped.

... Yeah, I know. Sorry, it was stupid of me to...

[Teddy waits until Billy has both feet on the floor and is balanced until he lets go and steps back, still keeping his gaze away. Good going, now he thinks you don't have any faith in him.]

Sorry. I'll go see if OP's...

[He's not even sure how to finish that. Doing what? Nevertheless, he looks back to see if he can find the dog. Considering there's no sign, it looks like he probably went to find Misty.

Dammit. Scared the animals, too. Idiot.]

[Billy hesitates, then curls his fingers to grip Teddy's shirt where his hand rests, worrying his lower lip. He shouldn't say anything. He shouldn't, it'll just make it worse.

But he's worried. He's worried, and he shouldn't be. He's worried because he doesn't know... what I know.]

He's fine.

[His voice is hushed, but it gets stronger as he looks up, giving Teddy's shirt a light tug.]

They'll both be fine. Stay? I... need to tell you something.

[He needs to tell him something?

What, that you don't need to worry, that you're overreacting, being paranoid?

And Teddy is paranoid, ever since Billy talked so freely about wanting someone to kill him and not seeming to see what was so wrong with it, since his mother disappeared in front of his eyes again...

He lets out a sigh through his nose, grips his elbows as if to brace himself for something, and nods, glancing at the window.]

Yeah... okay.

[It'd be so much better to find his "kids", go play with them and forget about the stresses of the day(s). But, again, it's not often (lately) that Billy says something like that to him, so it must be important.

Or awful, like what he said last time this happened.]

[It's even more frightening now that he's committed, but, well... he's committed.Which means there's no backing out. Billy gives Teddy a light nudge towards the bed, trying to guide him over, intent on having them sit down. His head's clear enough today to recognize that it would be a really bad move to say anything while Teddy's on his feet.

Only once that happens does he speak again, weaving his fingers carefully through Teddy's to give him a focus beyond his own words.]

I'm not... going to kill myself. Or try to get anyone else to do it. You want to know how I'm so sure of that?

[That's... different. This is different from just a couple weeks ago. Teddy still remembers when Billy woke up and said those things, scared Teddy to death, just as he was scared when he walked in and saw Billy at the window.

He sounds so sure of the opposite right now, even seems calm about it. When did this happen? When...

With those thoughts in mind, Teddy stays silent for a moment, though his fingers do curl around Billy's. It's - It feels good, having Billy initiate touch, rather than Teddy doing so. It's such a simple touch, yet Teddy revels in it, and it's what pulls him back to look at their hands, then up at Billy's face.

He doesn't say a word, and he's pretty sure he doesn't have to. Just the way he looks at him, and gives a slow nod, is enough to how that yes, he wants to know.]

[God. God, where does he even begin.

take it slow]

I'm going to tell you something. And- and you won't like it, at first. But you have to hear me out. You have to listen to me explain. When I'm done, you... you can do or say whatever you need. But just... listen first. I need you to do that.

[His hands are tense against Teddy's, almost shaking, so afraid of ruining this glimmer of calm in the middle of the mess they're in. He has to. They both need this, he knows. It'll get better. It made him so much better.

he won't see it

make him understand, idiot]

[Teddy can already tell he doesn't like this. The way Billy's warning him in advance, how tense his hands are - Those aren't good signs. And it's making a knot in Teddy's chest that starts to leave him weak and paralyzed, as much as he wants to push it down.

But Billy hasn't even said what he wanted to say yet. Maybe he's just being paranoid, maybe he's looking too deeply, maybe - Whatever, Billy's already scared, and Teddy doesn't want him to be scared of him or how he might react, ever.

Despite his own growing fear, Teddy strokes his thumbs against Billy's hands, trying to soothe him from whatever's shaking him. He tries not to let his worries show on his face, but he can't help the frown, as if his suspicion is buried under denial.]

... Billy, what are you talking about?

[Just say it.

Look at him- he already knows.

Just tell him.]

...I'm sure, because... I already tried.

[Teddy thought it was coming, but it still hit him like a punch to the stomach.

I already tried.

It takes a few seconds for it to settle, and as it does, the shift he'd been keeping a careful hold of falls away. In the same moment that realization and horror cross his face, and color drains out of it at well, the signs of fatigue do as well, because how can he even think of holding onto everything when he just heard something like this?

I already tried.

When did this happen? Was it when Teddy was out talking to people about what was going on? Was it when he slept? Was it – Was it that time Billy showed him the image of his mother? When did he try?

How? What did he do? What – Teddy doesn't want to know, even as his eyes flit downward to see if there are any new scars on his arms, at his stomach, wondering if he swallowed pills, at his neck – and then downward again, unable to look at that scar without his heart clenching.

And – And why? Billy promised – And even with that, he knows, he knows how badly Teddy would be affected by it, and – was it his fault? Did he not try hard enough? Did Billy not realize just how much Teddy loved him, needed him in his life? He'd said so over and over, but was it not enough? Was he not enough? Was he ever?

Of course not, the voice in his mind tell him as he presses his palm to his forehead, eyes wide, hands shaking, if you were, he wouldn't have tried.

He wasn't good enough, he wasn't good enough, he didn't try hard enough, he didn't, he wasn't, he wasn't enough, he wasn't enough, never were never will be

His chest hurts, like that knot in his chest grew until it pressed against his lungs and made it heart to breathe, made his heart beat faster in a panic.

I already tried.

Oh, god, he almost lost Billy again, and the one who would've taken him away was - ]

[Shit. Shit.

Wasn't fast enough.]

Teddy- Teddy, oh god-

[Hastily he shifts Teddy's hand and presses it against his own chest, holding it in place. Beneath that hand his heart is beating steady and strong, and he hopes that Teddy can feel it. Feel how alive he is, how calm he feels- despite picking up a few paces because of how worried he is now.]

Breathe, Teddy- breathe for me, okay? I need you to hear this. Please, please, don't panic. Just breathe. It's okay. I'm okay...

[Breathe, breathe, how can Teddy breathe when he can't? Billy tried to kill himself and Teddy didn't even know, how could he, he's a stupid excuse for a boyfriend – hell, a stupid excuse for a friend, if he didn't even notice something like that. And Billy – Billy, oh god, the most important person in his life was almost lost to him again, was so close to it, was driven to it, and why did he -

Teddy can feel Billy's heartbeat under his hand, and it hurts how his own heart tries to match its pace, making him cringe, because everything else is speeding up, his brain is telling everything to speed up, the sympathetic nervous system out of control, and one organ out of alignment throws everything else off center.

But beneath all of that, he still feels it. Billy's heartbeat. It's there, it's stable, and the skin under his hand is warm, and he's here, he's still here, he's telling this to Teddy and Teddy needs to listen, but how can he when his ears are pounding?

Breathe, breathe, breathe breathe breathe, in, one – two – three – four, out, one – two – three – four, and it hurts to force his lungs to breathe in such a way, makes it feel like they're not getting the air they need. Eventually, though, it feels better, a little more natural to breathe like that, for his heart to try matching Billy's pace. He still keeps one hand against his forehead, and he still keeps his eyes wide and away, still shakes, his expression looking like he's still in the middle of his panic. But it's clear that he's at least a little calmer now. And maybe, maybe he can talk.]

Wh - Why?

[It comes out in a breath, barely even voiced. Why? Billy promised, he knew there were people who wanted to help him, knew there were people reaching out to him, and he – he did that? Ignored everyone who had faith in him and who wanted to try finding a way to save him, and just – threw away his life?

Why?]

[Why? When is there ever a reasonable answer to that? It had made perfect sense to him at the time, when he'd been desperate, heartbroken, sick with guilt. The bottom of the barrel, the end of his rope, insert-dramatic-metaphor-of-choice. It had felt like the right choice. It had felt like there hadn't been a choice.

Now? Everything he'd told himself at the time is just an excuse to make him feel better about giving up.]

...Because... because I was stupid. Because I wasn't thinking. Because I was thinking too much.

[Because I made you leave me. Which he doesn't say, since no matter how he could possibly phrase it, it would still come out sounding like it was Teddy's fault, and it wasn't, it wasn't, not ever.]

Teddy, I don't... I didn't put any value on my own life. I felt empty, worthless, broken. I thought that if... if all I did was make people suffer, then I don't- I don't deserve to...

[He trails off, glancing aside. It's all just empty justification now, pointless excuses for a stupid, reckless, selfish mistake. Teddy deserves better.]

...It doesn't matter why. What matters is that it didn't work.

[Teddy can't understand that. And again, the words come back, you're not enough, you're not enough, and he takes in a hitch of breath and presses his fingers to Billy's chest as if Teddy would die if he can't feel his heartbeat anymore. How could Billy feel that way if he knew there were people reaching out to him? How could he not see that?

Billy's words just make the ache in his chest grow, and it hurts so much to hear that. This person that he treasures and loves more than anything in this world felt like he was worthless, like he shouldn't live anymore. Teddy thinks the world of him, and Billy thinks the opposite. It feels a bit like all of his feelings and all of his love are being spat back at him, and he squashes down the irrational anger from that as best as he can.]

You're not -

[But Billy isn't done, which might be just as well – it's still hard to breathe and he isn't sure he could get everything he wanted to say out.

It didn't work.

That begs the question, what did he do? What did he try?]

What...?

[He knows it's hard to hear. It's hard to say, too, which is half the problem right there. Neither of them want this. But he knows that they need it, too. And now that things are in motion, now that the truth is out, he can't stop.

We used to have no secrets, and... now we have so many.

I don't want to be a part of that.]

I tried... to cast a spell. Just one last spell. I thought it... would all go away. My powers are fueled by willpower, right? I thought I could make it happen if I wanted it. Just... just say the words-

[He cuts himself off, biting his lip again, swallowing back those words. Teddy will understand, and... Billy doesn't want him to hear it said.

"I want to die."

I was so stupid...

He's still very conscious of how viscerally upset Teddy is, how tense he is against Billy, how shaken and heavy his breath is. He needs Teddy to hear the next part without a second panic attack stacked onto the first.]

So I... I tried. I cast the spell. And it didn't happen.

[IC] Appointments Post

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