holyposition | IC Inbox

I meant because he's from Fife, but now that you mention it...

You make a good point as always. But it feels cowardly all the same.

I would not ask that of you. You do so much for me already. I try not to dwell on it, and I manage not to for the most part. I have my research to distract myself with, and films. But sometimes I find myself overwhelmed with terrible thoughts.

I dream of it often. Sometimes you are there. Those may be the worst.

If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not think of your father too much when I'm trying to flirt with you.

Okay. Just know that if you do ever want to talk about it, I’m here. It’s no burden to me. What you went through was long and terrible, I don’t think anyone would expect you to get over it in just six weeks.

What do you dream about when I’m there?

Nor would I, actually.

Thank you. But it feels like I should have left it behind.

Oh, Tim. Such terrible things. Sometimes we are on the ice, and I know we are being stalked and I know I can do nothing to protect you. Other times you are with me in the tent and you are ill, and I am trying to hide you so that you won't be killed because you can no longer haul. I keep looking for anything to hide you behind or under but there is nothing and I can hear footsteps on the shale.

I do not sleep after such dreams, not without aid.

I'm sorry, Harry. I...you can call me, if you want. If you ever need a reminder that I'm healthy and well. Even if it's late.

What do you mean, aid?

Thank you, but I would prefer not to bother you unnecessarily.

Medical assistance. Nothing untoward, I promise you.

If you can't sleep because you're dreaming of having to butcher me, I don't think it's unnecessary.

Do you have the nightmares more than the good ones?

I do. You don't need to be woken up by an old man's imaginings.

Oh, yes. But not always about you, more just generally. It will pass.

[ He hesitates to ask. Because...the rules are there for a good reason. But his heart aches to imagine Harry startling awake at night because of monsters on the ice, vengeful beasts and frightened men and the wailing sick that he can't help, whether it's Tim or someone else. He could soothe it, he thinks, hold him tightly to his chest until he calms. It would be an easy thing, sacrificing some sleep to offer him some peace. It would be a harder one, finding a boundary after. It's what shattered him with the fickle prince. His door was always open, so the cruelty found its way in. ]

Have you tried sleeping with another person?

I had a lot of nightmares after I was strangled. But it was better when I had someone there.

No.

Of course you did, Tim, that's only natural. And I'm very glad you've had someone there.

I am alright, Tim. I awaken and read for a while, and that is usually enough. If not, I take a tincture. I am probably sleeping much better still than I have in some months. Please, do not concern yourself with it.

[ brat mode activated.]

I'll concern myself with whatever I want to. If you have to drug yourself to sleep through the night, that's worth worrying about and you won't convince me otherwise.

Tim, it is perfectly safe. I've administered hundreds of sedatives.

How often are you taking them?

Tim, are you about to argue with me about dosage?

People in your time were a lot more lax about it, that's all. I don't think it's healthy if you can't sleep without it.

I see.

"I see" as in you'll do some research, or "I see" as in you're not taking me seriously?

"I see" as in I understand that you're dismissing my professional opinion.

Doctors don't write their own prescriptions for a reason.

[There is some time spent where Harry types a few things out and then deletes them. He is angry - no, furious - but he recognises it isn't Tim's fault. Tim has no way of knowing how hard he'd tried to find other ways to treat exhausted men who had been slowly losing their minds, nor how exquisitely aware he is that he was not trained to do so. Tim is not trying to insult him.

Still, the urge to scream that he is doing his best remains.]

I do not know what answer you wish of me right now.

I don't know.

I know you've been through a lot. And nightmares and opiates aren't the worst of it. But if you're dependent on it, that scares me.

And I'm afraid now that I've admitted it, you'll start treating me like some crybaby kid who can't handle anything hard, like everyone else.

Tim, I must apologise to you for being cross.

You are not wrong. Opium is habit forming. And although I am confident in my dosage and frequency, it is a danger that I should not ignore.

You are not a 'crybaby.' If anyone is being childish here, it is I.

No, I'm sorry.

Not for being concerned about you.

But for sounding judgmental. That isn't my intent. I just want to see you happy and healthy, so you can make the most of this second chance. I care about you too much to accept any less.

Tim, I am happier than I have been in a very long time. Healthier, too, even considering the long term damage.

I am thankful for your concern and care, I really am, but I do not wish you to worry so. Nor do I wish to appear pathetic in your eyes, for I promise that I am capable of looking after myself even if it seems I am not.

And they are just dreams, Tim. They will pass soon enough, I am sure.

Worrying doesn't mean I think you're pathetic. I don't. It's just how I am. Quentin calls me a fussy hen.

I trust you. And I trust you to tell me if any of that changes, too.

Does he? That's quite charming, actually.

Thank you. I promise that I will look after myself.

I do adore you, Tim. I am sorry to be difficult.

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