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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's easier to get angry sometimes. To let grief fall into rage and work from there. But sometimes- when it's too much to even reach for that, you gotta fall apart before you can move forward. York's never seen North this low before- not even when South Vanished. Then he was angry, then he was frustrated and frantic but this?

Taken and nothing on the other end of the line. Dead silence in his head. That's more than enough to make any man break. Yorks' hands continue their slow pass down North's back, curling around him as best he can. It won't make it better, but it will make it bearable.

It really hasn't been that long since the last time he'd cried on York's shoulder, since learning what South had done to him in allowing his death, but this is different. It's sharper, more near. More present and more shocking. And not possible to ignore. Eventually he just stops trying to subdue the grief—that part of it, at least, he will release. There's a whole mishmash of emotions swirling in his gut but crying, crying he can do. And the tears at least keep him from feeling quite as much like exploding.

"It's alright. I got you." And feels more than a little helpless in that is all he can really say. All he can do is hang on while he's held. It's not much of a comfort but it's better than North breaking down on his own.

Tears fall, sobs shake his shoulders, but eventually it slows to a stop and he pulls himself together enough to uncurl himself and wipe at his eyes with the back of his wrist. "I have to take the dog out," he mutters. Because that's his job now, caring for Theta's pet in his absence.

"I'll get it. You get some water, lay down, okay? I'll be right back." North could take care of Duke just fine- but right now that'd probably hurt more than help. Another reminder that Theta's gone.

"No, that—" He sniffles and wipes at his face. "Sorry about how this will sound but I don't want you out of my sight right now." It's irrational but if it did happen—if they're targeting him for some reason, just trying to make his life hell—well, he at least wants to be there to fight them off if they come after York.

"Nah. Nah, I get it. C'mon, I'll go with you." He hooks his arms around Andrew's shoulders and holds him close, squeezing him tight. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'm right here."

He allows that, holding York firmly in return. "Thank you, Tay," he says. Not just for what he'd said but how he'd said it—no hollow promises are being made here about how he'd always be here or any bullshit like that. Just an assurance that he's here, right now, today.

North eventually lets out a shuddering sigh and pulls back so he can find a tissue and wipe his face. With that he carefully hauls himself to his feet.

"Anytime, Drew." As long as he's here to offer comfort, he'll do it. As long as he's here to support Andrew? He'll do it. Until there's nothing left to offer.

North hauls himself up and York follows easily, hooking his arm around Andrew's waist to support- and to hold.

He leads the way out and down the stairs, keeping York close to his side until they necessarily have to disentangle. Duke is led to the back door and North steps out behind him to watch as the dog snuffles around the yard and decides where to take care of his business. As soon as York is back to his side after that he'll be grabbing back on again, the physical contact an anchoring and comforting element.

The puppy's getting big- soon they'll need to play with it more often or something to keep it active now that Theta's gone. For now Duke doesn't seem to notice but when he does? There will be dog crying. York hates dog crying, there's nothing more sad. Except maybe the odd moment where the wet patch on his shirt sticks to his skin, reminding him of North crying.

He keeps tucked close under Andrew's arm, nosing against his shoulder while they wait for Duke to do his business.

"I sent D a message about it earlier," he says after a long silence. "I know it wasn't right to do it over text but waiting wasn't right either."

"Better to have told him as soon as possible." Even if it was over text. He'll have to check in with D too- if that's still welcome.

He's not all that certain it is.

"That was my thought." Duke runs to the end of the yard, wanders back and forth a bit, and returns to him. By the way he circles the two of them, panting excitedly, he seems to be expecting the emergence of his ball. North scrubs a hand across his hair line before releasing York so he can find it. "Theta had him on a routine, that's for sure," he says. It isn't going to be long before the dog realizes Theta himself isn't around anymore. That's not going to be fun for the poor thing.

"Dogs and kids. They need a routine." He murmurs, leaning back against the doorframe as North hunts for the ball. He'll keep the door to his bedroom open in case Duke wants to curl up with him and Harry.

"We all do. We need for things not to go crazy every other day." He tosses the ball lightly, underhand, every time the dog comes back to him, knowing he's not throwing it as far as Theta normally does. He's hiding it but his composure is still only sort of being kept thinly and he hiccups a little trying to hold things together. "I keep thinking...if he'd been killed in the riots..." What a horrible thought, but it was a thought he'd been mulling. He's frowning deeply, looking like the face of melancholy. Could Theta really be suffering a fate worse than death, right now? Suffering without North's knowledge and without his ability to do anything about it? He feels his face trying to crumple again and he sets his mouth in a hard line, accepting the ball one more time from the dog and clenching his hands around it.

"We kept him safe. He's alive, North." Alive unless he got sent home then he's just gone. Alive unless they wanted to pick him apart to see how he worked.

No, a mind like theta' they'd wanna test. They'd want to understand. What kind of scientist would wanna kill that kid? Not a good one. Not a sane one. He hooks his arm around Andrew's waist and squeezes him tight, nosing into his shoulder.

"Alive, yeah, for them to take and screw around with," he says. By now he doesn't believe for a second that anyone gets sent home and he definitely, definitely doesn't believe anything good happens to those who get taken into custody. He's miserable. Miserable. He drops the ball and clenches his hand at York's waist. He doesn't want to cry again, not here outside.

Duke snuffles his way up to the ball and York flips it into his hand with his foot, tossing it out for him to chase. Give him and North a little time. "If you think about it you'll go crazy. You need to not. I know it's impossible and it won't ever get easier."

"Tell me you could manage not to think about it if you were me," he mutters.

"I had to. Last time you went missing. When Wash went missing. When Connie went missing. I've been here longer and seen you guys come and go more times than I can count so you know very well. That I manage as best that I can."

"I'm not inured to it yet," he says. "And it's Theta. I handled it when it was Wash, when it was Connie. But this is Theta."

"And next time it'll be Delta. It'll be me. It'll be Carolina. It's gonna keep happening." ANd there's no way to stop it. Not a single way.

"That's not helping, York." He bends his head. "Give me time."

"...I'm sorry." It just- he gets tired of being resigned sometimes. Now's not the time to take it out on North. "You want something to help you sleep?"

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