Work Text:
Benrey enjoyed the feeling of being up in the middle of the night. It was quiet. Peaceful. They could get some rest from whatever happened that day—which, in this case, was a very strenuous shopping trip. That place had been so loud, but now it felt like they were the only one awake in the world, and they could finally have time to themself to think.
Sometimes the thoughts got too much. As soon as they drifted back to Xen, or back to the arm—don’t think about it—it was a race to distract themself before they spiraled into another panic attack. Or whatever it was that happened that first night. It wasn’t fun. It hurt, it was terrifying, and he’d rather not go through it again.
It was nice, though, when Gordon helped him out. That wasn’t close to the reaction they’d expected from him, and it hadn’t left their mind since. The counting. It was so straightforward, so simple, but it felt like it carried a lot of weight.
Kind of like the apology, right? The words “I’m sorry” looked so easy to say, but they were fucking heavy. Why’d everyone have to talk so much? Less words? Less loud and heavy words please? That’d be nice.
Maybe they should all talk in… in Animal Crossing villager meep moop noises instead. That’d be good. How hard would it be to imitate?
Benrey started mumbling little meep moop noises under their breath when a shout startled them off the couch. What the fuck. That came from Gordon’s room. They stood up from the rug and walked towards the closed door.
“…Uh… hey, uh, you good in there?” they asked, hand hovering an inch above the doorknob. When they strained to listen for a reply, all Benrey could hear was a loud thud and pained noises. Okay, so, not good. “I’m gonna have to come in and… follow you. Make sure you’re…”
They decided not to finish that sentence. It probably wouldn’t help things. Benrey turned the doorknob, surprised to find it unlocked, and peered into the bedroom.
Gordon was on the floor next to the bed, hair wild and eyes wide, backed up against the wall and staring at Benrey like—
Like he had looked at them on Xen.
“Yo, hey, it’s me, bro. Best pal Benrey,” they whispered, holding a hand up. “Not gonna hurtcha, remember? Can’t break a pinky swear.”
Gordon blinked and nodded once, but he didn’t look much better than before. His shoulders were still hitching with every couple breaths and he clutched his stump so tightly it looked painful.
Benrey took a step forward and Gordon flinched back, panic still etched into his face.
“Get—go,” he gasped as the panic morphed into something a lot closer to anger. “No—get out.”
“What?” Benrey took a step back. “I’m not—”
“Get out, Benrey,” he repeated, and it hurt worse than the bullet wounds.
They stepped into the hallway and closed the door. A muffled sob from Gordon could be heard through the wood, but Benrey didn’t open it again.
Instead, they curled themself into a ball under the blanket on the couch, tugged at their hat, and pulled out the phone Tommy got them.
hey bro i ned hlp
gordos fuckd up n i mad it worse
Typing on this was kinda hard, but Tommy’d always kind of understood what they said. Even when it was incomprehensible. This would still work, right?
There was a quiet chime when the reply arrived.
What happened? :( Are you both okay?
Damn, Tommy was awake? They thought everyone would be asleep. Benrey typed out a quick explanation.
no hes panckin n told me to get out
just wantd 2 help
Oh, I’m sorry, came Tommy’s reply. I know you want to help, but it might be too much to deal with while he’s stressed.
wat do u mean
Well… there was a long pause before Tommy’s next message came in. He has bad memories associated with you. Even though you apologized and you’re getting better, sometimes fear kicks in first. It’s instinct.
…Instinct, huh. Benrey knew a thing or two about instinct. The instinct to fight, to lash out, to scream and claw their way out like the cornered animal they became.
oh, they wrote, chewing one of their chullo strings. wat do i do?
Well, how about you talk to him in the morning? He’ll probably be feeling a little less scared then :) You can ask about what to do next time!
ye ok
thx tommy
No problem, Benrey! :D
They put their phone back in their pocket and sighed. Okay. Apparently, it was going to be time for an… apology sequel. More heavy words. More heavy feelings.
Benrey cast one more concerned look at Gordon’s bedroom door before ducking back under the blanket for the rest of the night.
They woke up when the door opened again, but didn’t move or peek out. Footsteps approached the couch, stopped, and then walked away towards the kitchen. Okay. Feetman sounded normal again. At least, his walking did. Time for that apology, then.
Benrey tossed the blanket onto the back of the couch and padded towards the kitchen, silently fidgeting with the chullo strings. Come on. Practiced this shit. They’ve apologized before, it couldn’t be that hard to do it again, right? Words. Words were easy. They could say words. Just had to put them in order.
They walked into the kitchen and saw Gordon turn to face them, a glass of water in his hand. Neither of them said anything, and Benrey couldn’t bring themself to look up at his face to gauge the expression there.
The only sound breaking the silence was the mechanical hum of the refrigerator. Had it always been so loud? It felt louder than it was supposed to be. Shit. Back on track. Apology time, three, two, one—
“I…” Benrey couldn’t even get a word out before their voice cracked and ground to a halt with a chalky white ball of sweet voice spilling out. Shit. They tried again, trying to focus on the apology, and beamed out green, black, and gray-brown sweet voice in a low tone, but couldn’t get any actual words.
No, no, no, not this again, they needed to use their words, they had to—
“Green to jet is deep regret, brown like silt means you’re full of guilt, right?” Gordon asked, jolting Benrey out of their thoughts. They nodded, eyes still on the floor.
“You’re apologizing for last night,” he continued, and it sounded more like a statement than a question. Benrey nodded again and Gordon sighed. “Yeah, it’s… it’s alright. Just wasn’t a good time.”
The numbing drone of the fridge filled the kitchen again. Benrey finally dared to lift their head and look up at Gordon and froze when they saw he was already looking at them.
“Wh—I, uh,” oh shit their words were working again, “didn’t mean to scare you. Before. Sorry.”
“Yeah.” Gordon nodded and took a sip of the water in his hand. “I just need… it was—I couldn’t have you around then. The nightmare, it…”
He trailed off and looked away. Benrey nodded. They didn’t need him to finish the sentence to know what—or rather, who—was at the root of Gordon’s panic last night. They felt a pang in their chest and swallowed more silty brown sweet voice before it could spill.
“What should I do?” they asked instead, remembering the advice Tommy had given. “Next—next time it happens. Gotta return the favor, can’t leave a bro hanging.”
Gordon turned back to them, and Benrey couldn’t decipher the expression in his face. It didn’t look like anger or fear, so that was good, but it didn’t help much in their process of elimination. The fingers of his prosthetic hand tapped against his glass with a faint click, layering over the fridge noise.
“Just… don’t come close unless I say it’s alright,” he eventually said, and Benrey nodded and tried not to look excited about it. It would be bad if Gordon had another panic attack, yeah, but maybe they’d actually be able to help this time. Help, and not just make it worse.
“Yep, got it, won’t—won’t follow you in without the go-ahead.” Benrey straightened up their posture a bit and adjusted their hat so it wasn’t covering half their face. Gordon smiled at them and put the glass down on the countertop.
“Alright, I’m gonna make breakfast. Pass the eggs?” he asked as he lifted a frying pan off the wall hook. Benrey eagerly nodded, a couple hungry teal sweet voice bubbles floating around the kitchen as they smiled back.
This was good, that worked! Gordon didn’t cook when he was upset, so they did something right, at least. Good words, good helping, good progress being made.
Time to keep that streak going and help make the best breakfast.
The day had gone well, Benrey thought to themself when they were up in the middle of the night again. It was just kinda chill. They even played some games together after eating lunch. A lot of cleaning had to happen, but the loud vacuuming that Benrey had to leave for was over.
And they were wearing comfier clothes than their security uniform now—a dark maroon hoodie and gray sweatpants. For some reason, the new clothes made noises feel less loud. It didn’t make any sense, but it was still good to know. Uncomfy clothes meant that noise hurt more, comfy clothes made it hurt less. Learning all kinds of new things about existing.
Even with their thoughts wandering and drifting about, Benrey still stayed alert. They didn’t know why, but they had a feeling that something was going to happen again. Couldn’t be unprepared or caught off guard. Had to keep checking to make sure things were safe, that they would stay safe, just in case something happened, and something was going to happen.
So when another shout from Gordon’s room made them flinch in place on the couch, they didn’t waste any time before heading to the door and reviewing the steps in their head. Knock. Open the door. Ask to come closer. And then… and then they’d figure it out from there if Gordon actually wanted them there.
They turned the doorknob—unlocked again—and cracked the door just enough to peek inside. Just like before, Gordon was on the floor next to his bed, backed up against the wall and shaking. The sound of the hinges creaking alerted him and his wide, watery eyes snapped up to meet Benrey’s.
“Uh, hey bro,” they whispered, opening the door just a bit further. “You… you cool if I come in? You look, uh, not good.”
The two of them stood frozen for what felt like an eternity. Benrey was about to repeat their question when Gordon finally gave a single, shaky nod. Oh shit. Okay, they weren’t expecting to get this far, time to remember their training. They stepped inside and started inching their way towards Gordon, watching him for any flinching or fearful response.
“Just, uh, just your pal Benrey. Not gonna fight. No fighting, prommy.” They knelt in front of him, leaving a bit of space to the side so he didn’t feel cornered, and reached out an open hand. When Gordon didn’t react badly, though he was squeezing his eyes shut and trembling in every limb, Benrey laid their hand on his arm.
Shit. He was hype… hyperventro… breathing too fast. Okay. Gotta fix that.
“Hey bro, you’re, uh… panicking. Gonna do the counting thing, okay? Counting and breathing please?” They leaned down to get a better look at Gordon’s tear-stained face and saw him nod. “Okay. In, two, three, four…”
Gordon took a shuddery, hitching breath and Benrey tapped his arm again with the count as they continued. In, out. In, out. In, out. In, out, until Gordon’s shaking had subsided, and his breathing was mostly steady again.
“Y-you good? Better? You’re, uh, not… not back there. It’s your house. It’s chill.” Benrey wasn’t sure what exactly they were saying, but reassurances were good, right? Making sure he knew he was safe. That it was okay. That he wasn’t going to be hurt anymore.
Gordon nodded and opened his eyes again. He brought his hand up to wipe the half-dried tears from his cheeks, gaze still fixed on the floor.
“Thanks,” he croaked, voice hoarse. He cleared his throat. “I… dunno if I can get back to sleep, but it helped. Thanks.”
“Yeah, no prob bro, just didn’t want you to have to be alone.” It only registered after the words were already spoken that they might have revealed too much. Shit. “Wanna play Mario Kart?”
Gordon smiled and shrugged. “I dunno if I’ll be able to play really well right now. I’ll watch you, though.”
Benrey nodded and stood, reaching a hand down to help Gordon up. They played Mario Kart with the volume turned down while he sat on the couch next to them and watched. The only sounds that filtered through the dark living room were faint video game noises, the plastic-y clicks of the Switch controllers, and Gordon’s steady breaths.
The breaths turned to snores as he drifted off on the couch despite his prior nightmare. Benrey turned the TV off, leaving the room in darkness again. They pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over Gordon’s sleeping body.
“G’night bro,” they whispered as their hand lingered just a moment over the soft curls of his hair. Only a moment, though—just one brush before they settled on the other side of the couch and their eyes drifted shut.