devoutish | IC contact for wethelost

[Alfie goes quiet, eyes on the stars.]

[ He slides down to lay down on the bed, looking up at the skylight. His expression is sad - the kind of soft, weary sad that comes when you've been sad so much you're almost desensitized to it.

The stars are pretty. The menu music plays quietly in the background, backed by the sound of the waves on the beach. Mostly, he just feels heavy, and it's not a feeling he's accustomed to having, here. ]

Hey.

[He manages, reaching for Royce's hand.]

I understand. I do.

I know. It's why I told you. [ He holds Alfie's hand in return, still staring up. ]

Yeah. And it's why I've told you things, as well.

[ Royce sighs out slow. ]

The fact that you trust me with it means more than you know. [ A beat. ] I've never been afraid of much, but the thought of going home almost scares me more than anything.

Because you don't want to be king, and...?

I can't trust any of the elves. The only reason they haven't killed me is because they believe their god made me their leader. I don't know how to connect with any of them. I don't know if I want to.

[ He does. He's just bad at this. ] And I have to raise Mercy in the middle of all of it.

Bring her here, then. Take her and raise her here.

You and yours don't owe them fucking anything.

[ That's true. It's just. ]

I can't leave Hadrian to clean up that mess. He doesn't deserve that.

It's a mess, mate. A mess.

Yeah. [ He just goes ahead and rolls over on his face, burying it in the mattress. It's a mess, and he's all bent out of shape about it. ]

[Alfie's still caught up in his own worries - his home, Royce's home, his people, Royce's people - but he tugs the other man to him, pulling him against his chest.]

[ Royce grumbles a little, but he's okay with Alfie pulling him closer. He settles down against Alfie's side, hiding his face and just laying there for a while. The ocean doesn't calm him down, and the Lord of the Rings menu music is just melancholy and sinister enough that he has to get up a few minutes later to shut it off.

And then he stays where he is for a moment, resting his forehead against the bark of the tree with a slow sigh. ]

Stay here. [ Royce says, quietly. Almost inaudible, because he knows it's not a possibility. ]

Come here.

[He assumes Royce means here here - stay here in the treehouse, stay here with him.]

[ It's true enough that he doesn't want to push his luck. He swallows hard and makes his way back to the bed, but not before taking his cloak off. He sets it aside and then climbs back onto the mattress, taking his place back up against Alfie's side. ]

I won't go anywhere.

[He tucks himself around Royce, chin against the top of his head.]

[ Royce just lets himself curl up and be held. There's no reason to not allow it, and he's tired and he wants physical affection. It's getting easier to admit that. It's going to take a while for him to relax, though, thinking about his world - the elves, Mercy, the longing for something he hasn't ever had - and about Alfie's - the bombs, the family he's never met being gone in an instant, guns. ]

[Alfie's thoughts aren't dissimilar. He thinks of Royce being alone, of bombs, of Mercy being alone, of elves dying of thirst, packed like fish in a shipment crate...

He'll sleep eventually, but despite the comfortable bed, it'll be uneasy.]

[ He really needs to stop bringing up bad memories before he falls asleep.

He's been okay the past few weeks as far as nightmares go. He hasn't had any, or if he has, he doesn't remember them when he wakes up. But tonight, he's reminded of the elves in the wagons, and he's reminded of the bombs that are supposed to go off back in Alfie's world. There's a certain amount of guilt that curls up in his chest and spine from letting the elves go and makes it hard to breathe, makes it hard to sleep. Why didn't you go after them? You should've. The cries echo in his ears, and his breathing shudders in his sleep as he shifts restlessly. ]

[Alfie, not really awake but not quite asleep enough not to notice, pulls him closer.]

[ This is familiar. Usually, this helps, but tonight he's too stuck in his nightmares.

Tonight, he dreams about Alfie and his family jammed into the wagons, dead or dying, carted off to some prison - he dreams of Hadrian bleeding out in front of him, murmuring that he's glad Royce is okay, dreams of Hadrian's eyes going flat and lifeless as bombs that sound like guns go off sudden and short, deafening, and Royce knows even before he's awake that Alfie is dead, that he died in an explosion as his family begged for water around him and Royce jolts so hard out of sleep that he nearly pulls something.

He's trapped, he's pulled in close, and Royce thrashes a little, shoving Alfie away from him and trying to scramble out of bed with a wheezing gasp of air, panicked and horrified. ]

[Alfie's arms loosen automatically with the shove, and he rolls back, propping himself up on an elbow as he peers at Royce.]

What--

[He's still half-asleep.]

[ Royce practically launches himself out of bed and then just keeps going. He's halfway to the door before he stops and turns to look at Alfie with a deer-in-headlights look. He's there. He's alive. Okay, just - okay.

And then he keeps going, out the door and down the stairs to quietly have a panic attack in peace, away from Alfie, away from the tree. ]

Royce--

[He follows, stumbling, in bare feet. When he gets to the top of the stairs, he calls down.]

Royce! Do you want me to come, or do you want to be on your own?

IC contact for wethelost

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