[There's a long pause, and she once again feels like the shittiest friend in the entire universe.]
If I had known, I would've been there with you.
[She can't believe that he's been in the infirmary and something is wrong, and she's off doing things in the snow and making paper crowns. She feels ridiculous.
But she's rectifying that wrong now, already on the move.]
I'm not mad, why would I be mad? Just tell me what happened.
C'mon. It's not like you plugged your ears and ignored me.
... Is that the sound of feet? Are you pacing? Clara, you don't have to — do whatever you're doing, it's cool, I'll be fine. You should go hang out and enjoy your month off, okay?
[Well, he's gonna predict that's not gonna have any affect on her. But he also refuses to regret telling her, because he's already screwed up way too fucking much on that front. Closing his eyes, he lays there for a moment, feeling an exhausted fog fall back over him.]
I, uh. I had a seizure?
[He swallows, holds his breath for a second, and continues:]
I haven't... been totally honest with you. With anyone. I'm sorry.
[Did he already say that? It bears repeating, maybe.]
I'm not gonna go off and enjoy myself and leave you alone!
[It's said a little more heated than she originally intended it to come across. But she doesn't walk away. She's said that to others before. Her friends, she doesn't just leave them to suffer alone.
And right now, he needs her. So she's hurrying her as to the infirmary and makes it there in record time.
It isn't hard to find him, and she just stands there at the end of his bed, arms folded across her chest. Her broken arm in a sling just makes it look comical. She wants to hurry over and give him a hug. But hugs can happen after a little honesty.]
What haven't you been honest about? Tell me everything.
[Yeah, but he wishes you would go off and leave him alone! It's better than fretting. Or reminding him of the mess he's gotten himself into. He's seen the images on McCoy's little PDA, he's noticed the frustration in trying to puzzle what's happening, and he knows there's probably not a whole lot anyone can do to repair whatever he's done to his own stupid genius brain, so...
Yeah. Looking at Clara as she stands there like a disappointed mom, he knows he's gonna be in for something. He just hopes it's not crying; he hates how much he's cried lately. Most days he doesn't think it's weak. This isn't most days, though. Lying back against some pillows with wires hanging out of the collar of his shirt and a cuff strapped on his arm, he looks — like shit. Like he's one stone's throw away from going back into a gritty, unappealing sleep.]
... Um.
Everything...?
[A tall order, but he'll just get creative. His voices come out a little drowsy, but shamefaced either way:]
I might've irreversibly damaged parts of my brain by drifting with giant monsters, in summary. Or, well... Maybe damaged it. The doctor can't actually find the reason behind the symptoms, but — I've been having them, uh. Since I showed up here.
[If she gets angry at him for not telling the full truth, she'd be a hypocrite. Besides, she doesn't think she has it in her to be angry at Newt. Not now, when he needs her to be on his side.]
And you decided not to tell me?
[Any sass and matronly looks she might have been giving him melt away to a concerned frown. She can get why he wouldn't want to worry her with knowing. But it hurts that she didn't know, and wasn't able to help him.
With a soft sigh, she moves away from the end of his bed to go over and sit in a chair that's right beside where he's laying. He's clearly had other visitors, and she hopes he's not keeping him from any of them.]
I'm not angry with you, Newt. I haven't told you everything important about me. And I can't expect you to do it, if I haven't been completely honest myself. So please, just...just rest. And cooperate with whatever the doctors are telling you to do.
... I didn't tell anyone, if it makes any difference.
[Not that he thinks it will. Honestly, he's a little surprised by how she's taking this. Not that he, like, expected her to be frothing with rage... but... maybe he expected worse. The way Daisy'd looked at him, and — and then what Yzak said, it had made him wonder if he looked different to people now. The fear is a strange, new thing, something he hopes is pretty illogical.
He's not a normal person, anyway. He's never been normal.
He's just having a stupid reaction, that's all.]
If you mean that curmudgeon Doctor McCoy, I'm on my best behavior.
[He smiles, but it's a bit forced. It's hard not to look at Clara and see all the nights he'd crawled up beside her, desperate to escape his own symptoms — and of nightmares that he sometimes remembered and sometimes most certainly did not.]
... He's not really sure what to do about it. But — uh! He can stop the nosebleeds, I think. And the migraines. And the... uh. The brain swelling. All of that, he can totally handle, so as long as I have something to treat that, I'll be just fine. So.
Consider me totally cooperating! 100%!
[Hey, this is the most energy he's felt in, like. 24 hours. That's progress.]
[She's quiet for a while after he says all that, letting his words process and sink in. There's an element of quiet fury that she's feeling. One that tells her to just quietly get up and leave for a while to let him think about what he's done.
But the logical and compassionate part of her would never let her just walk away. Clara doesn't walk away when she's needed. And right now, Newt needs her. She reaches over to take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.]
We'll work to figure out a way to fix this. And you're not going to do it alone.
[Her smile is a little tired, but doesn't lack any of her usual warmth. The next question she wants to ask she hopes is softened by the fact she cares for him and only is trying to figure out the full picture of the situation. ]
And when he does, I... It's gonna be bad. It's gonna be all ruined, Clara. He's gonna know I lied to him, and he's gonna think the worst of me. He's gonna — [He sucks in a breath, the hand she's holding squeezing hers back desperately.] He's gonna want nothing else to do with me. We were supposed to be partners — we're supposed to be partners, and I... I can't believe I didn't say anything.
Why didn't I just tell him the truth? What a fucking idiot!
[He thumps his fist against his temple a few times as he says it, frustration pinching his eyes shut. He can see Travis' face so clearly, disdain in his eyes; he fears more than anything to see that in Hermann's face now, reminding him of the self-sabotage he causes in relationships, in friendships — now he's sitting here, stewing in the mess he made, because who else would cause such a shitshow if not him? It's what he excels at.
This is all his fault, and he needs to just take his punishment without being unreasonable. He's too good at being unreasonable in all avenues of life outside of his work.]
[She moves from the chair to crawl into his little infirmary bed with him, sitting close to his side. Her arms wrap around him as best as they possibly can, her head turning to press a kiss to his temple. He's free to lean against her if he wants, she'll support him.]
Sometimes things get ruined.
[She can't tell him that he won't ruin everything, because she doesn't know whether or not it will.]
And when we do, we have to try our best to pick up the pieces and repair what we lost.
[And she knows that Newt can do it. He has to be able to. She knows she'll do everything in his power to help him.]
But you're not doing it alone, Newt. I promise. I'm here with you, every step of the way.
[She knows what it's like to lie and lose something dear because of it. She can't save him from experiencing the same pain, but she can be there to support him through it.
She holds him a little tighter now, wanting him to feel that he's not alone.]
[It's been a nightmare. The last few months, full of nightmares and feelings of helplessness, the bloody tissues and the piercing headaches, the fear of something too big and too dangerous hanging over his head. The quiet fear of losing the respect or trust of people he'd come to love — in one case, genuinely fearing the loss of friendship with the person who means the most to him.
He doesn't want any hugs. Or kisses. Or words of affirmation.
Only he does, and he turns quietly to hug her around the middle and bury his face in her shirt — and he would really, really appreciate it if she didn't take any notes aloud about the way his shoulders shake, or the way he quietly cries, muffled against her, leaving warm spots to seep through to her skin.
He'd just. Really appreciate if it never left this little curtain-masked make-shift room.]
[She's not planning on telling a soul. And she's not in any hurry to get him calm. He can cry as long as he needs or wants, and she'll just keep holding him. Her hand soothes up and down along his back, and every so often she presses another kiss to the top of his head. If she could make him feel better just by showering him with affection and telling him how much she cares for him, things would be easier.
But those things aren't going to help him with Hermann.]
You know that I love you, yeah?
[They've been through so much here together, done so many things together, that she feels nothing but happiness and love when she thinks of him. He's one of her closest friends, and she'd do anything for him.]
And you and I, we're always gonna be able to help each other figure our way out of these sorts of messes.
[He nods where he's pressed against her. He manages a meek, sobbed:]
I know.
[And it takes him time to get anything else out past that, so he settle for a moment while she runs her hand along his back and presses into the unruly hair on his head, letting himself come down from what he thinks is a dam very quietly breaking, months in the making. He swallows and manages to speak hoarsely again.]
Love you, too.
[He was brought up to always return an 'I love you' from family, from people in your life that mean the most to you. There were plenty of times where he'd angrily hung up the phone on his dad or uncle, especially in the throes of puberty, but he always called back to tack on those words. It felt almost dangerous not to.
And hey, if this does kill him, he wouldn't want it left unsaid.
The small emotional outpouring suddenly leaves him feeling exhausted, though. Maybe because he's still not feeling all that well from what had happened in that hallway. As the shivering stops and his body stills, his pinched eyelids relax and his breathing evens. The monitor's readings steady into the numbers of a man who has drifted into a quiet and even sleep.
[Clara sits with him for far after he falls asleep, holding him and rubbing his back. She stays until her back starts to get sore and her legs are long since numb. And it's only when she's positive that he's not going to wake up from bad dreams that she works to get him into a comfortable position and makes sure he's tucked in. A kiss to his forehead later, she's promising him with a whisper to his ear that she'll be back to check in on him later.
There's nothing more she can do for him now, but in the hours and days following this he'll wake to find her peeking in on him or sitting in the chair near his bed. She's always reading, and always goes out of her way to act like she's so focused that she doesn't notice he's awake. But he may catch a smile on her face and a glance in his direction.
She promised to be there for him, and she's not going to let him down.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
If I had known, I would've been there with you.
[She can't believe that he's been in the infirmary and something is wrong, and she's off doing things in the snow and making paper crowns. She feels ridiculous.
But she's rectifying that wrong now, already on the move.]
I'm not mad, why would I be mad? Just tell me what happened.
no subject
... Is that the sound of feet? Are you pacing? Clara, you don't have to — do whatever you're doing, it's cool, I'll be fine. You should go hang out and enjoy your month off, okay?
[Well, he's gonna predict that's not gonna have any affect on her. But he also refuses to regret telling her, because he's already screwed up way too fucking much on that front. Closing his eyes, he lays there for a moment, feeling an exhausted fog fall back over him.]
I, uh. I had a seizure?
[He swallows, holds his breath for a second, and continues:]
I haven't... been totally honest with you. With anyone. I'm sorry.
[Did he already say that? It bears repeating, maybe.]
no subject
[It's said a little more heated than she originally intended it to come across. But she doesn't walk away. She's said that to others before. Her friends, she doesn't just leave them to suffer alone.
And right now, he needs her. So she's hurrying her as to the infirmary and makes it there in record time.
It isn't hard to find him, and she just stands there at the end of his bed, arms folded across her chest. Her broken arm in a sling just makes it look comical. She wants to hurry over and give him a hug. But hugs can happen after a little honesty.]
What haven't you been honest about? Tell me everything.
no subject
Yeah. Looking at Clara as she stands there like a disappointed mom, he knows he's gonna be in for something. He just hopes it's not crying; he hates how much he's cried lately. Most days he doesn't think it's weak. This isn't most days, though. Lying back against some pillows with wires hanging out of the collar of his shirt and a cuff strapped on his arm, he looks — like shit. Like he's one stone's throw away from going back into a gritty, unappealing sleep.]
... Um.
Everything...?
[A tall order, but he'll just get creative. His voices come out a little drowsy, but shamefaced either way:]
I might've irreversibly damaged parts of my brain by drifting with giant monsters, in summary. Or, well... Maybe damaged it. The doctor can't actually find the reason behind the symptoms, but — I've been having them, uh. Since I showed up here.
no subject
And you decided not to tell me?
[Any sass and matronly looks she might have been giving him melt away to a concerned frown. She can get why he wouldn't want to worry her with knowing. But it hurts that she didn't know, and wasn't able to help him.
With a soft sigh, she moves away from the end of his bed to go over and sit in a chair that's right beside where he's laying. He's clearly had other visitors, and she hopes he's not keeping him from any of them.]
I'm not angry with you, Newt. I haven't told you everything important about me. And I can't expect you to do it, if I haven't been completely honest myself. So please, just...just rest. And cooperate with whatever the doctors are telling you to do.
no subject
[Not that he thinks it will. Honestly, he's a little surprised by how she's taking this. Not that he, like, expected her to be frothing with rage... but... maybe he expected worse. The way Daisy'd looked at him, and — and then what Yzak said, it had made him wonder if he looked different to people now. The fear is a strange, new thing, something he hopes is pretty illogical.
He's not a normal person, anyway. He's never been normal.
He's just having a stupid reaction, that's all.]
If you mean that curmudgeon Doctor McCoy, I'm on my best behavior.
[He smiles, but it's a bit forced. It's hard not to look at Clara and see all the nights he'd crawled up beside her, desperate to escape his own symptoms — and of nightmares that he sometimes remembered and sometimes most certainly did not.]
... He's not really sure what to do about it. But — uh! He can stop the nosebleeds, I think. And the migraines. And the... uh. The brain swelling. All of that, he can totally handle, so as long as I have something to treat that, I'll be just fine. So.
Consider me totally cooperating! 100%!
[Hey, this is the most energy he's felt in, like. 24 hours. That's progress.]
no subject
But the logical and compassionate part of her would never let her just walk away. Clara doesn't walk away when she's needed. And right now, Newt needs her. She reaches over to take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.]
We'll work to figure out a way to fix this. And you're not going to do it alone.
[Her smile is a little tired, but doesn't lack any of her usual warmth. The next question she wants to ask she hopes is softened by the fact she cares for him and only is trying to figure out the full picture of the situation. ]
Does Hermann know?
no subject
And when he does, I... It's gonna be bad. It's gonna be all ruined, Clara. He's gonna know I lied to him, and he's gonna think the worst of me. He's gonna — [He sucks in a breath, the hand she's holding squeezing hers back desperately.] He's gonna want nothing else to do with me. We were supposed to be partners — we're supposed to be partners, and I... I can't believe I didn't say anything.
Why didn't I just tell him the truth? What a fucking idiot!
[He thumps his fist against his temple a few times as he says it, frustration pinching his eyes shut. He can see Travis' face so clearly, disdain in his eyes; he fears more than anything to see that in Hermann's face now, reminding him of the self-sabotage he causes in relationships, in friendships — now he's sitting here, stewing in the mess he made, because who else would cause such a shitshow if not him? It's what he excels at.
This is all his fault, and he needs to just take his punishment without being unreasonable. He's too good at being unreasonable in all avenues of life outside of his work.]
no subject
Sometimes things get ruined.
[She can't tell him that he won't ruin everything, because she doesn't know whether or not it will.]
And when we do, we have to try our best to pick up the pieces and repair what we lost.
[And she knows that Newt can do it. He has to be able to. She knows she'll do everything in his power to help him.]
But you're not doing it alone, Newt. I promise. I'm here with you, every step of the way.
[She knows what it's like to lie and lose something dear because of it. She can't save him from experiencing the same pain, but she can be there to support him through it.
She holds him a little tighter now, wanting him to feel that he's not alone.]
no subject
He doesn't want any hugs. Or kisses. Or words of affirmation.
Only he does, and he turns quietly to hug her around the middle and bury his face in her shirt — and he would really, really appreciate it if she didn't take any notes aloud about the way his shoulders shake, or the way he quietly cries, muffled against her, leaving warm spots to seep through to her skin.
He'd just. Really appreciate if it never left this little curtain-masked make-shift room.]
no subject
But those things aren't going to help him with Hermann.]
You know that I love you, yeah?
[They've been through so much here together, done so many things together, that she feels nothing but happiness and love when she thinks of him. He's one of her closest friends, and she'd do anything for him.]
And you and I, we're always gonna be able to help each other figure our way out of these sorts of messes.
no subject
I know.
[And it takes him time to get anything else out past that, so he settle for a moment while she runs her hand along his back and presses into the unruly hair on his head, letting himself come down from what he thinks is a dam very quietly breaking, months in the making. He swallows and manages to speak hoarsely again.]
Love you, too.
[He was brought up to always return an 'I love you' from family, from people in your life that mean the most to you. There were plenty of times where he'd angrily hung up the phone on his dad or uncle, especially in the throes of puberty, but he always called back to tack on those words. It felt almost dangerous not to.
And hey, if this does kill him, he wouldn't want it left unsaid.
The small emotional outpouring suddenly leaves him feeling exhausted, though. Maybe because he's still not feeling all that well from what had happened in that hallway. As the shivering stops and his body stills, his pinched eyelids relax and his breathing evens. The monitor's readings steady into the numbers of a man who has drifted into a quiet and even sleep.
No nightmares this time.]
no subject
There's nothing more she can do for him now, but in the hours and days following this he'll wake to find her peeking in on him or sitting in the chair near his bed. She's always reading, and always goes out of her way to act like she's so focused that she doesn't notice he's awake. But he may catch a smile on her face and a glance in his direction.
She promised to be there for him, and she's not going to let him down.]