not your burden to bear

awareness is the enemy of sanity

The movement in the room sharpens his focus further, however momentary it might be, and both Finn and Remi find themselves in that curious state of halfway to somewhere else, before thinking better of it. ”You... you’re Governor of Torchline,” he points out. ”Married. Chosen by Ludo. Definitely makes it seem like you manage.” Though in fairness, that is entirely Finn’s opinion.

Raising a hand to rub at eyes that physically ache with exhaustion, the Spyglass lets out a shaky not-laugh (because Remi warned him not to). ”I need a lot more than what’s in that bag,” he mutters, before giving a small, vulnerable sort of nod without dropping his hand from his face. ”If you wouldn’t mind. They’re tea leaves, but there’s a powder in there too, for emergencies.” It’s an emergency is what he doesn’t say.

for once you hear the screaming

it never stops

FINN

REMI

Remi snorts at the list of things Finn has chosen that are meant to underscore Remi's managing. "Well, like you told me earlier: You're entitled to your beliefs." It doesn't feel...genuine to try and argue down Finn's opinion of him, and so Remi stays silently stunned. Finn hasn't been this wrong yet, but it's nice to know he's human.

Remi can feel a cold prickle on the back of his neck as Finn mentions needing more than what's in the bag. He can't ask him what it is, because no matter the answer, it won't be something Remi can provide. Pleasure, sympathy, absolution, the truth...But he can make the man a drink, lacing it with the contents of the bag. Rising from the chair and moving slowly towards the dresser where the bag has been placed, Remi removes a small sachel of leaves and a small bag of powder. Inhaling, though not deeply, the Alchemist tries to place the scent.

Creating a rather fragile and dainty teacup (though it's quite a strange shape) full of hot water, Remi adds a few leaves and a pinch of powder. Pausing, brows furrowed, he glances at Finn's gaunt face and the hand slung over his eyes, and adds a bit more. "It'll need a moment to steep." The Alchemist advises, hovering like a reaper at Finn's bedside, absently swirling the tea.

honest feelings and bad timing
make the most painful combination.

Code taken from Sky who is utter perfection

awareness is the enemy of sanity

”Touché,” Finn mumbles, lips curling in a smirk, though his hand doesn’t come down from his eyes. The pressure of the back of his palm is soothing, as is the swirling darkness behind his eyelids, and he hears Remi’s approach as a gentle rustling nearby. Finally his hand comes away and he blinks up at the other man. It’s like watching his own shadow hover over him - all Remi is missing is those great dark wings from the first day they met.

”Thank you,” he murmurs, settling back into the pillows again, his curls falling softly about his face. ”Maybe next time I’ll actually be able to make you a drink,” he remarks; Remi has given him three in this meeting alone. ”Would you open the window, before you leave?” It’s a strange request - a personal one, but Finn is currently beyond his own social inhibitions.

for once you hear the screaming

it never stops

FINN

REMI

"Maybe." Remi hums back, as if Finn is nothing more than a child uttering gibberish that it's better to simply go along with. "Of course I will." He agrees, though he isn't planning on leaving just yet.

"Hands." Remi instructs, now leaning over the bed with the teacup held over Finn's chest. As Finn's hands rise, Remi will place the strangely shaped cup into his hands, while saying, "-you don't need to sit up. Can you feel the spout?" It's like a shallow watering-can almost, so that all Finn needs to do is tip the cup up and have it flow into his mouth.

honest feelings and bad timing
make the most painful combination.

Code taken from Sky who is utter perfection

awareness is the enemy of sanity

Finn hums a note of thanks, and his hands come up automatically at the order, reacting to tone and single syllables before his higher functions can object. (Mostly because his higher functions have left their desks and have been drunk at the bar since some time a day and a half ago, but... y’know). The cup is placed into his waiting palms, the Spyglass nodding as his fingers feel out the strange shape of it.

”I’m going to drown in tea,” he remarks darkly, though there’s a flicker of weary amusement in his eyes as he gazes up at Remi. It’s an art form, to drink like this, but Remi’s creations are good at what they do, Finn will give him that. Regardless of teacup shape, he’s drained it in only a few moments, as if racing himself to oblivion.

Does he even think to ask how much was put in? Does he care?

Not a bit.

Setting the teacup beside himself on the bed - he knows that he won’t be going anywhere, not even to roll over - Finn bonelessly relaxes into the bed, not even trying to fumble for the blanket he’d thrown off some hours before. ”I’m glad I ran into you today,” he mumbles, but his lips are already numb and the tea is doing its job. Finn’s breath steadies and deepens, his overactive mind soothed and slowed down by narcotics, letting his eyes slip shut, his sleep-blank expression taking years off.

for once you hear the screaming

it never stops

FINN

REMI

"I'm a strong swimmer." Remi replies in a low voice that threatens, unsuccessfully, to break. Finn won't see, but the Alchemist's cheeks flare with heat. What the Spyglass meant offhandedly (so Remi presumes) instead makes the faces of three children swim before his eyes. But he hadn't let them drown, and he won't let Finn either.

"Go to sleep, Finn." The Alchemist whispers in response, his expression uncertain, his lips threatening a sad smile. He can see wakefulness slipping away from his counterpart, and it twinges something right in the center of Remi's chest. It isn't that Finn looks young (he does, but that isn't the point), it's that he looks so at peace that it physically hurts. Frowning as he watches Finn's breath grow deep and slow, the Alchemist finds he's matching his inhales and exhales as if he might syphon away some of the Spyglass's tranquillity. Noticing he's done this, he bites down on his tongue, holding his breath.

Stepping back, whatever waking part of Finn's mind that is left, might hear the sound of feathers as Remi shifts. Window open, the pale hawk sits sentinel to make sure the Spyglass doesn't start vomiting blood or otherwise showing signs of his injuries being any worse than the pair had initially thought them to be. Before he leaves for the night, he'll place a glass of water next to Finn's bedside table, with a single pale feather.


~FINn

honest feelings and bad timing
make the most painful combination.

Code taken from Sky who is utter perfection