slightlytaller

telling you what your Christmas gift is would be cheating.

Yeah okay, Dad.

[Wait. No no no no - shit. He didn't mean to send that. His brain is on autopilot.]

That was a joke
I know you're not really my dad

You're a professor too but you don't treat me like a student all the time

And you didn't abandon me either

Why would I abandon you?

Jokes notwithstanding, you're not the first young person I've met that has had a troubled home life. Two of my longstanding students were shunted my way because their families and my colleagues didn't know what to do with them.

I was in my third year teaching. They weren't any older than you.

...I suppose that's why one of them gives me silly names, like Big Ben London Star.

They didn't deserve to be abandoned by everyone. And, neither do you.

Edited 2023-02-08 19:23 (UTC)

Some days I think I do. For everything I've done. How could anyone care about me, ever?

... But I still feel lonely. It makes me feel sick to my stomach. And the truth is that as much as I'm trying to improve physically I'm nothing compared to most people here.

I can't protect anyone. If I can't protect the people I care about then why are there any people I care about?

There's not much I can offer to Trench. Sometimes I wonder why it picked me.

Dying doesn't scare me here. It's being alone that actually hurts.

[It was like he was looking at himself in some ways, Waver decided. Perhaps that was part of why he was so concerned about the boy.]

People don't always make rational sense. They make judgements and decisions that make no sense even if you dig around and try to figure out why. Emotions aren't rational, and they drive a very large part of human behavior.

...I also can't protect the people I care about. I can hardly stand beside them in a disaster. But, the Pthumerians picked us, and our friends picked us.

And, maybe we don't have to know why. People outside of ourselves often see things that we can't.

I personally want to trust my friends. That's enough for me.

Emotions are just chemicals. Chemicals follow a rational pattern, don't they?

... But you're right that emotions aren't rational. Unfortunately.

You have magic. You're smart.

Me? I'm just a weak kid with terrible luck and terrible circumstances and terrible nightmares and hallucinations. And even then I'm lucky because I know people who had worse situations than me, so I should be grateful it's not worse.

I barely have strong enough circuits and mana supply to be considered a spellcaster. And, you're smart; don't sell yourself short.

Chemicals don't always follow rational patterns inside a person's body, and science doesn't know why people get anxious or depressed. In my opinion, there's something in between the data that science can't yet fully quantify-- and that's probably the closest we have to real magic on my Earth.

Other people's trials don't make your's insignificant. Honestly, it's not good to even compare. Everyone's situation is completely different. You've been under the kind of stress that would break most people.

It's okay to not be okay.

I'm not allowed to break. Not at home and not here.

I have to survive. otherwise we all died for nothing.

There's a difference between breaking and healing.

A broken bone will never set right if you don't give it rest and support. The same for human minds and hearts.

There's no rest here. Not when everything could kill you or change you or warp you into something that's not recognizable as yourself.

[His hands are shaking and his breathing is harsh. He knows Waver's not trying to push buttons or attack him, but it feels like an attack.]

It's like I'm a shark. If I stop moving I'll die. And I can't stop moving because it feels like everything is against me right now.

I'm jumping at shadows. I'm hearing screaming from the people I killed. Footsteps on the stairs are making me jolt.

I want to be rational but I cna't be and I don't know how to make it stop ad I cant and i shouldnt because even if i had to

killed so many people i cnat be fogiven fr that and i sholdnt be

did whati had to but still a bad person because of it

sldier who kills on command is still a murderer just with extra steps

i ca

[The message cuts off there.]

Jun!

[Panic made his nerves all but hum inside his body as he read those words-- his own heart pounding in sympathetic reaction to the viceral urge to yeet oneself from their own body that he read in the keysmashes.

If Jun answered, he would certainly hear the anger and terror in Waver's voice-- smaller, certainly, but still ringing with that academic clarity that the professor prided himself on.

Uncaring if Jun heard, Waver rattled on.]

Gray, where is he? Can you help me find him? Gods this is a shitty way to meet Manabu!

[Jun's side stays stubbornly text, but it's a different font? Somehow.]

He is hiding in the back room of the Roost.

He wanted to work today to be helpful but he is not being helpful if he is shaking too hard to hold anything.

[Thankfully, omens can text.]

Dammit, he's worse than I was....

[Waver hissed while reading the text, and was already grabbing his coat. All of his clothes were too big for him at the moment-- but he would make do. It was fine. This was all fine...]

I'm gonna lamp my way in. Thank you.

[And with that he shut his feed-- and was out the door.]

[When he gets there, there's a golden retriever waiting by the door. He opens it with his paws (good boy) and leads Waver back towards the storage room. Jun is cowering amidst a load of boxes and canned food.]

Shut up shut up shut up shut up -

[... It was hard to see.

Unsure of what appropriate manners were, Waver reached out and tousled the dog's ears.]

Thank you, [he said, and rushed forward-- a small black cat darting ahead of him.

Gray slipped into Jun's hiding place and batted at his arm with a paw. Waver, meanwhile, tried not to trip over the boxes as he pressed forward. ]

Jun? Jun, I'm here. Talk to me.

[He ignores the cat. The cat's not there. Nothing's there other than the darkness and the white room and the chairs and the screaming --]

[He hears his name being called, and he looks up.]

... Make it stop. Make it stop -

[He doesn't want to cry. He's out of tears. He's too exhausted to cry.]

[He didn't know what to do.

Waver was a jack of all trades. Often this was better than being a master of a single subject, but applied psychology was not something he was well versed in. Grasping at straws, he did the first thing he could think of--

And pulled Jun into a hug.

Breathing deeply, he shakily found his center and his voice.]

Okay, Jun. Close your eyes and tell me five things that you're hearing.

Edited 2023-02-09 21:51 (UTC)

[He didn't resist, letting himself get pulled out from the mess of the storeroom and into the other's arms. It didn't matter - he would still be terrible, no matter where he was.]

[Five things he can hear... he knows half his answers aren't real, but -]

You. Breathing. Screaming. Gunshots. Lasers.

Only two of those are real,

[He said gently, trying to ignore the way his heart pounded in his ears in the quiet room they were in. ]

Can you try again?

Edited 2023-02-10 13:37 (UTC)

[He shakes his head, trying to breathe.]

I can't... I can't stop it. I can't...

[He's trying, but he can't think of anything other than terrible things.]

Don't leave me...

[Waver wrapped his thin arms tighter around the boy. ]

It seems impossible, but you can do it.

What are four things that your body is actually feeling-- right here, right now?

Edited 2023-02-10 13:49 (UTC)

I... uh...

... Adrenaline. Fear... o... oh, you mean physically feeling. O-outside of me.

[Right? Right.]

The floor. Your heartbeat. Clothing.

[His omen nosed under his hand and he sighed.]

Dog fur.

Good job.

[Waver sighed, glad that Jun was getting it. ]

This is going to sound strange, but what are three things you can smell?

Uh...

[That is weird, but...]

Alcohol. Dust. Some kind of vegetable, I'm not sure.

You don't need the details-- now, what are two things that you can see?

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cw: PTSD, panic attacks

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