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[devoutish]

Yeah?

[That's it, that's all you get.]

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[devoutish]

[Lockdown has just barely hit, but Alfie is all tucked up on the air mattress already, blankets pulled up to his ears (but not over them; that would have made it too difficult to listen in to Royce's quiet conversation with Sylar, which he had absolutely been doing). When Royce makes his way back, Alfie wordlessly lifts a corner of the blanket, inviting him in.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce doesn't say anything, but he does slide down next to Alfie and on the air mattress, curling up and closing his eyes. ]

[devoutish]

[He drops an arm around Royce's middle.]

You're scaring me, mate.

[bywolves]

[ He doesn't answer. He hides his face against Alfie's chest instead. ]

[devoutish]

[He presses his face down into Royce's hair, giving him one, to, three kisses.]

[bywolves]

Did you see the network? [ Royce asks quietly, hoarse. ]

[devoutish]

Yeah.

[And he'd heard Royce talking about it, but shhh.]

[bywolves]

I have a bad feeling.

[devoutish]

I don't.

[His voice is muffled by Royce's hair, but not enough to be hard to understand.]

Yeah, I think he might come back.

[bywolves]

[ A pause. ]

Okay. [ He doesn't believe it, and it's clear. ]

[devoutish]

[Well, that hadn't worked.]

Tell me about your bad feelings.

[bywolves]

Dread. [ Royce mumbles. ] It's dread. He's died before but it feels worse. This time. Davesprite's been gone a long time too.

[devoutish]

It's the poisoning, mate.

[bywolves]

The source doesn't matter. I still feel it.

[devoutish]

I wish that I could give you some small amount of hope, Royce.

[bywolves]

I wish I could hold onto it.

[devoutish]

Hold on to me, then.

[bywolves]

[ Royce brings his arms up around Alfie's shoulders, hiding his face again. Hopeless. That's a good word. That's descriptive, accurate. He's trying to keep above water for Alfie, but it's not working so well, and he thinks for right now he just needs to give in and drown a bit.

His breathing struggles, like he's trying not to cry. ]

[devoutish]

Look at me.

[He touches the underside of Royce's chin, giving it a little tap.]

[bywolves]

[ He looks up at Alfie. His expression is pained, and he's on the verge of tears, not bothering to hide it. ]

[devoutish]

[Good. He doesn't have to hide from Alfie. Alfie locks eyes with him, holding his gaze as he brings both his hands up to hold Royce's face.]

[bywolves]

[ Royce can't look for very long. He has to avert his eyes because the gaze is too much, after a moment, too concerned and loving, and he can't meet it. He doesn't try to get out of Alfie's grasp, he just goes limp, lets his gaze slip down to the mattress and lets the tears fall, too exhausted to make much more of a scene about it. ]

[devoutish]

[It's times like this that Alfie feels the most powerless - more than when he thinks about how he'll likely never get home, more than when his body is being forced to act against him, more than when some building or another is transplanting its own intrusive thoughts into his mind. At least then he has a clear-cut reason for why he's so useless; at least then he has something concrete to fight against. Trying to fight Royce's depression is like trying to catch smoke.]

Doesn't make me think any less of you.

[He murmurs huskily, brushing a tear away with his thumb.]

[bywolves]

I know.

[ He whispers it. Because he does know, he really does. Alfie doesn't ever look down at him, and he knows he's not being judged for crying. It's a good thing, too, because he can't help it. The tears just come. It's a steady stream down the sides of his face, wiped away by Alfie only to come right back. Royce doesn't sob, but. It hurts enough that he can't stop. ]

I don't want to feel this way anymore.

[devoutish]

What can I do? I'll do anything, Royce.