Post-nightmare cuddles for B and Connor :D
I love them sooo much! <3 <3
B's arms are tight around him, and Connor stares into space breathing hard, only slowly calming when he realizes who the breath on the back of his neck belongs to.
"I've got y', sir," B whispers to him, and Connor could laugh at the ridiculousness of B calling him 'sir' while comforting him, if he weren't half-sure any laughter he attempted would come out hysterical and panicked. "Just us, just the three of us."
B is repeating the same words Connor uses to comfort him, and the sweetness of that is sharp enough to ache.
Scott tiptoes in, moving with that particular silence that Romantics develop, a glass of water in his hands. He drops to his knees on the side of the bed, offering it to Connor like it's some kind of gift.
He could laugh at that, too.
But he can't make a sound, not yet.
Connor only stares, his own black eyes wide, still feeling it. The bruises haven't healed yet, the cuts are still bandages all over his body.
"It's okay," Scott says, softly. "We know how it feels."
And they do, that's what sinks in. They do know.
"I don't know how to get him to stop showing up," Connor admits, still whispering, as though the house itself is listening. "I don't know how to get Ferrick to stop."
There's a knowing bitterness in Scott's eyes. Unlike B's open adoration, Scott is always calculated. Connor half-expects the little Romantic to suffocate him with a pillow over his face one night. "You don't," Scott says, softly. "You take it, and live with it after. Just like us."
"Scott." B's voice is chiding from behind Connor. "It's not like that for him."
"N-no, he's right, he's right. It is."
Scott blinks at Connor, surprised, and Connor wonders if it'll be a knife, not a pillow. Or if he'll poison Connor's food somehow, or...
"I don't deserve anything less," Connor says, meeting Scott's eyes. "I know that."
Scott sets the water glass on the side table and pads silently away, leaving B to hold Connor through his shivers, as he waits for the nightmare of Ferrick's hands to slowly fade.
(B belongs to @what-a-whump)
