[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
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.]