[Seeing helps. Hearing helps. Still, there's something particularly comforting in feeling, fingers curling tense around Thomas's. Reality is infinitely stranger here, but this still feels incredibly certain and solid; something to properly cling to.]
I'm not so fast as I used to be-- and remain entirely susceptible to knives and all manner of things blasted quite quickly in my direction.
[Unlike all the apparent superhumans and magic users among them--although that hardly meant that those who had been in the thick of the fight weren't as battered and bruised in their own, less visible way.]
[ there'll be time to come down later, to shake the mindset of necessity and combat. he hasn't quite managed it just yet, shoulders still straight even though he's tired.
he's unhurt, at least. one of the magic users among them. his involvement was clean, at least, disabling a ship without engaging many pirates. the bruises, if any come to show, will be old ones. ]
[The relief that wafts off him must be palpable, even without the empathy bond. It's followed, embarrassingly, by an exhausted exhale, his body slumping and forehead finding Thomas's shoulder.]
Wonderful.
[This is the problem with caring for people one goes to war with. It's inevitable; it's sometimes useful.
[ the exhaustion is palpable; thomas doesn't need the empathy bond to spot it or guess its cause.
his hand finds the name of william's neck, curling there, resting, holding on. keeping william close to him. he doesn't think william needs permission to rest against him, to breathe, but if he should need it after all, he has it.
(thomas is, at his core, solid and dutiful. it isn't obvious that that is the heart of him, not in an england that sees him and thinks posh first and foremost, but it is no less true for other people's perceptions of him.
he can be the thing keeping the world at bay long enough for others to rest.)
[The familiar fingers at his neck help. The solid warmth of Thomas holding him is a proper comfort, something to focus on while the rest of his mind and body carefully reset themselves.
Still, the gentle words tighten his fingers and shoulders slightly.]
Do you remember how?
[It was one thing to laze about with a book when nothing was happening. It was one thing to spend an evening in the gardens or on the holodeck while simply passing the time.
It's something else to return battered and bruised from battle and try to make oneself sit still.]
[It shouldn't make a difference. He should be able to unwind from these moments into something healthful like resting. He should, at the very least, be able to disengage the part of his mind that got caught in the loop of feeling itself constantly in the midst of a war.
And yet.
The knowledge someone will be watching relaxes his shoulders. The knowledge it will be Thomas allows for a comfortable exhale. The offer settles, and the exhaustion comes properly sweeping in.]
[ this is what he does. this is something he knows. there have been times when he'd thought that this is what he was made for, why he's still alive to this day. he is the rearguard, the shield.
if he can guard william from this, even if it is not a physical threat, he will. it's purpose and that helps him, too. ]
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I'm not so fast as I used to be-- and remain entirely susceptible to knives and all manner of things blasted quite quickly in my direction.
[Unlike all the apparent superhumans and magic users among them--although that hardly meant that those who had been in the thick of the fight weren't as battered and bruised in their own, less visible way.]
Are you all right, Thomas?
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[ there'll be time to come down later, to shake the mindset of necessity and combat. he hasn't quite managed it just yet, shoulders still straight even though he's tired.
he's unhurt, at least. one of the magic users among them. his involvement was clean, at least, disabling a ship without engaging many pirates. the bruises, if any come to show, will be old ones. ]
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Wonderful.
[This is the problem with caring for people one goes to war with. It's inevitable; it's sometimes useful.
It's just also always beyond exhausting.]
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his hand finds the name of william's neck, curling there, resting, holding on. keeping william close to him. he doesn't think william needs permission to rest against him, to breathe, but if he should need it after all, he has it.
(thomas is, at his core, solid and dutiful. it isn't obvious that that is the heart of him, not in an england that sees him and thinks posh first and foremost, but it is no less true for other people's perceptions of him.
he can be the thing keeping the world at bay long enough for others to rest.)
eventually, softly: ] You should rest.
no subject
Still, the gentle words tighten his fingers and shoulders slightly.]
Do you remember how?
[It was one thing to laze about with a book when nothing was happening. It was one thing to spend an evening in the gardens or on the holodeck while simply passing the time.
It's something else to return battered and bruised from battle and try to make oneself sit still.]
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thomas takes a breath, lets it out softly. ]
I can stand watch.
[ not an answer so much as an offer. ]
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And yet.
The knowledge someone will be watching relaxes his shoulders. The knowledge it will be Thomas allows for a comfortable exhale. The offer settles, and the exhaustion comes properly sweeping in.]
If it's no trouble.
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[ this is what he does. this is something he knows. there have been times when he'd thought that this is what he was made for, why he's still alive to this day. he is the rearguard, the shield.
if he can guard william from this, even if it is not a physical threat, he will. it's purpose and that helps him, too. ]