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“Can you tell me what’s going on now?”
A breath. “I told you that I’ve been watching you,” Palm starts, and then pauses.
Nueng huffs, half in disbelief and half in resignation. “I told you, you don’t need to do that anymore.”
Palm’s gaze slides away, nervous. He has the tilt to his mouth that he unconsciously does when he's trying to hide something, and his body language is so tense it's - odd. It makes Nueng pause. Something else is going on. “Palm.” Getting up, he walks closer to him. “What’s wrong?”
At the movement, Palm looks up, and his gaze catches Nueng’s. He pauses for a second, searching, but then looks away again, and it's - weird. It's so weird. He looks angry. “It’s - nothing. I have a problem but I can take care of it.” He sounds sharp and certain, and it's so out of character it makes Nueng bristle too.
Why is he still -? “If something is bothering you, you need to talk to me. You need to tell me.” It's been a long night, and Palm is acting cagey and he hates it. The words spill out harsh and blunt and Nueng almost wants to take them back when Palm's expression twists, but he doesn't. He just - he thought they were on equal ground now. “You said we would fight together and die together. This is not what we agreed on, you -”
Palm tenses. “That’s right, Nueng,” he interrupts loudly, standing up. “I’m an asshole. I’m selfish.” He's genuinely angry, jaw tight and voice trembling, and the realization makes Nueng’s own anger melt away.
Palm doesn't… he never raises his voice. Something is wrong.
“Palm,” he says, softer now. “What’s wrong?” Nueng’s gaze flits over Palm's face, trying to find some hint, some clue to what it is that's making him this - “You don’t need to do everything on your own. If something is bothering you, you can tell me. All you need to do is talk to me.” His voice cracks slightly.
Palm’s expression is like nothing Nueng has ever seen on him before - angry and upset and hurt all at once. He shakes his head slightly, as if debating, and the set of his shoulders is so tense it looks painful. A moment, then another, and then -
“It’s Supakit,” Palm finally blurts out, anger blatantly audible in his voice. “He told me to - kill either Mrs. Tanya or you in exchange for my dad’s life.” He says it almost like he's throwing it in Nueng’s face, and then he stops, searching Nueng’s face for a reaction.
Blinking, Nueng processes the words, and -
His breath catches in his throat, and doesn’t quite come unstuck. He -
The moments from earlier flash through his brain. Palm, the hospital, his mom, the silent movements, Uncle Non in prison, Palm's guilty anger, Nueng’s gun, his mom -
“Did you kill my mom?”
The question spills out before Nueng can stop it, desperate and immediate. He doesn't realize he's taken a step back until Palm steps closer, shaking his head.
“No, I didn’t. I didn’t do anything to her.” His frown flattens out into something more upset than angry. “I couldn’t do it.”
Couldn't.
Couldn’t.
What -
The word rings in Nueng’s ears, damning. The relief at his mom's safety immediately gives way to sheer, blind rage. “But you thought about it. You didn’t do it, but you thought about doing it.” He trusted Palm. He trusted Palm with his fucking life, he thought Palm knew how much his mother meant to him, he had told him, and Nueng thought Palm was the one person who would never betray him but - “How could you even think about doing it? Palm, answer me!” He’s fully shouting, now, but the only thing he can hear in his own voice is the dampness of tears and hurt. Fuck. He didn't - it hurts.
“I’m sorry,” Palm’s brows furrow, and the genuineness of his apology is undercut by the determined anger still settled on his face. “But my dad’s life is on the line. I didn’t - know what to do.” Nueng stares.
“I’m sorry,” Palm repeats, voice wavering.
Ha. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't choose between killing Nueng’s mom or -
Nueng feels hysterical. The blood is roaring in his ears, a distant warning, and he wants to do - something, anything to let the deranged mess of emotions sitting in his chest out. “Then kill me.” Reaching out to grab Palm’s jacket, Nueng feels the rage-fear-anxiety-anger simmering under his skin. “Kill me, Palm. Then everything will be over!”
Even as he’s saying it, Palm is shaking his head, unwilling to even listen.
It just makes Nueng angrier. He didn’t have the same resolution when it came to Nueng’s mom. The only family he has left. His mother, who hasn't done anything except try to protect Nueng and it -
“Okay.” Okay. Fine. If this is how this is going to go. Spinning around, Nueng picks up the gun on the table. “Take it.”
“Nueng -”
Shoving it into Palm’s limp hand, he grabs the barrel and lifts it up to his skull. “Look. Kill me. Kill me!”
Palm just shakes his head, trying to wrench the gun out of Nueng’s grip. It doesn’t budge.
“Do it, Palm kill me! Shoot me! If you kill me, everything will be over. Your dad will be released from prison. My mom will be alive. Shoot me!” There’s tears in Nueng’s eyes, he realizes, and he feels dizzy. Palm looks like he’s about to cry too. “Your mom is dead,” Nueng throws in his face, voice hoarse, and watches Palm flinch. “Do you want your dad to die too?”
“Nueng -”
“Shoot me!”
The gun slips out of Nueng’s grip, and Palm yanks it away - but before Nueng can react, there’s warm arms around him and he’s being pulled into a hug and it’s soft and familiar and Palm is holding him and his skin feels too raw and the ground feels so far away and his mother is still alive and fucking Uncle Kit is ruining his life and Palm is here and Nueng doesn't know what to do because it's all just so much and he just…
Nueng starts crying.
Palm just holds him, warm and present and comforting and god, Nueng missed him. And the warmth makes some of the panic recede and he notices, suddenly, that Palm is trembling even as he holds Nueng. He was just - struggling with this all by himself.
Fuck, Nueng thinks empathetically, and reaches up to wrap his arms around Palm.