Shhh. Easy. [Guriel shakes out a wing and draws it close around Ben, shielding him from the world and the bewilderment it contains while he threads his fingers through his Packmate's hair.] You're home. You're in our house, in your room, with me. Guriel. Shhhh. I won't let anything hurt you, you're safe here, I won't. Won't let Them get past me.
[And he does not tack "Again" on to that because it's not Ben's burden, it's his.]
Shhhh. Easy. [Guriel's heart wrenches, and he wonders how many times he can re-tell this moment before his control slips and it bulldozes him right into the Epic Meltdown that's been looming over him for weeks. He wonders what that will do to Ben.
Probably nothing good.] You got shot. Twice. Back of the head. About three weeks ago. Your memory is damaged. They're not sure yet if it will come back. They're not sure yet if you can make new ones.
Three wee-- Back of my hea-- How am I even still ali-- [And there go claws right on cue. He recoils from his own hand and makes a strangled noise.] Guriel...
Easyeasyeasy. [Guriel pours as much calm and comfort as he can down the link.] Easy. It's okay. Those are yours. You're a werewolf, those are your claws, it's completely normal. Easy. I gotcha.
...I'm a werewolf. [He stares stupidly at the claws for a few seconds, and feels a stirring inside. Zev, it supplies. I'm Zev. We're Pack, you and me and Guriel. Love, and support, and trust. He rolls the word around on his tongue.]
Yeah. That's right. Zev, that's the wolf. [God Guriel is glad to hear Ben say that on his own initiative.] And we're Pack. You and me and Zev. We take care of one another.
[Ben leans into him, because he is afraid, very much so. The memories he's not missing altogether are jumbled like a box of Legos.] Are they-- [His voice is strangled, and he tries again.] I'm surprised they let me come home.
[Guriel squeezes his eyes shut and cradles Ben's head against his shoulder.] Twice. So far.
[Twice today, and how many times tomorrow, and the day after and after and after, you can't do this, you idiot, you're too small and fragile and stupid to do this, what were you thinking . . .]
[Guriel's heart stops. Actually, physically stops, and all the marrow in his bones suddenly drops to absolute zero.] Wh. What?
[And that ugly voice in the back of his head fairly crows. You see, you moron, you broken little failure, even he knows it, even without remembering you he can see you can't do this, you're going to fail because you always do, this is your fault and you can't keep him safe, you can't protect him . . .]
[Guriel makes a broken noise and tries to hunch into himself, which doesn't really succeed because he's wrapped around Ben too thoroughly.] I. They're.
They died, Ben. They died before I ever met you, that's why . . . why we met.
[And probably he'd be working up to that revelation a little better if the vast, vast majority of him wasn't trying to fight off the impending meltdown at the thought of Ben not letting him be here, not wanting him here, not staying with him . . .]
He stares around, frowning.] Where am I?
Reply
[And he does not tack "Again" on to that because it's not Ben's burden, it's his.]
Reply
[Dawning horror.] Oh, God. What happened to me?
Reply
Probably nothing good.] You got shot. Twice. Back of the head. About three weeks ago. Your memory is damaged. They're not sure yet if it will come back. They're not sure yet if you can make new ones.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Zev.
Reply
I'm going to take care of you. Don't be afraid.
Reply
Reply
They were going to take you. But I wouldn't let Them. Won't. Let Them.
Reply
Reply
[Twice today, and how many times tomorrow, and the day after and after and after, you can't do this, you idiot, you're too small and fragile and stupid to do this, what were you thinking . . .]
Reply
I never wanted to be a burden. I know that much. Fuck me, I can't ask you to do this....
Reply
[And that ugly voice in the back of his head fairly crows. You see, you moron, you broken little failure, even he knows it, even without remembering you he can see you can't do this, you're going to fail because you always do, this is your fault and you can't keep him safe, you can't protect him . . .]
Reply
Where are my parents?
Reply
They died, Ben. They died before I ever met you, that's why . . . why we met.
[And probably he'd be working up to that revelation a little better if the vast, vast majority of him wasn't trying to fight off the impending meltdown at the thought of Ben not letting him be here, not wanting him here, not staying with him . . .]
Reply
Leave a comment