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[thirtythird]

@ wlawford
room 023; bunk 025 (with loki odinson)
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[thirtythird]

[Not at all something he can promise.]

I'll try.

[ettersberg]

I'll find you, after.

[thirtythird]

You'd best.

[ettersberg]

[ it's enough, for the time being-- and as promised, thomas does find william, after. (admittedly: he asked perseus where he might find william, but then, he's always been adept at using all tools available to him to complete his objective.)

for a moment, he finds himself just looking from a distance, trying to force his shoulders to relax. then he gives up on that particular notion and just strides closer. ]

William.

[thirtythird]

[William knows he must still look a nightmare. Loki had kept him stable, Cash had handled the most dangerous hurts, and Andy had patched most of the remaining ugliness, but the wreck of the day had been etched in heavy lines on his face and washed in pallor over his skin.

There's a smile, all the same, when he catches sight of Thomas.]

Still breathing. As promised.

[ettersberg]

[ william does not look good. exhausted, pale, -- but alive. for now, that is what matters. right now, that is what counts more than anything.

(thomas knows how combat can linger in body and in mind, how much pain it can bring long after the battle is over. he hopes this will not be the case here.) ]

I'm glad.

[ he moves to take william's hand, thumb brushing over the back of it. unusually demonstrative, perhaps, but surely it is warranted. ]

What's happened?

[thirtythird]

[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.]

Are you all right, Thomas?

[ettersberg]

Quite all right.

[ 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. ]

[thirtythird]

[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.

It's just also always beyond exhausting.]

[ettersberg]

[ 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.)

eventually, softly: ] You should rest.

[thirtythird]

[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.]

[ettersberg]

[ the question doesn't throw him, not really, but it is as telling as william's physical condition in many ways.

thomas takes a breath, lets it out softly. ]

I can stand watch.

[ not an answer so much as an offer. ]

[thirtythird]

[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.]

If it's no trouble.

[ettersberg]

Not at all.

[ 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. ]