Work Text:
chapped lips. the tap-tapping of fingers against keys. a sigh escaping in the silence of the dim, blue room.
from this, you could identify two truths about yourself. one, an emptiness had begun to spiral inside you; and two, you were doing a very, very bad job at repressing this fact.
the data sets displayed all pointed towards your grief, or your sleep deprivation, or the coffee machine that would dispense tender memories too painful and recent to revisit. it would do no good. concern and yearning both mean nothing when your feelings are a harbinger of death.
without you noticing, your nails start to dig into the desk. you preferred digging them into your scalp instead. she would be okay. she had to be okay. dwelling on this would also do no good, but not even the work could distract you from your desperation. sliding back in your chair, you open your mouth to scream. no sound comes out. it does not matter. you look like a fucking idiot.
for once you are glad for the emptiness in the room.
you wanted to be anywhere else. you had nowhere else to go. if you went to see her, you're sure it would only cause worsening. composure is what you really need right now. distancing yourself was the only way to keep them safe.
"oi, mate, you in 'ere?" lost in your own thoughts, you almost jump at the familiar voice. he doesn't wait for your answer before barging in. "yeah, figured ya'd be." you kept your eyes fixed to the computer screen. do not meet his gaze. it would be too much of a burden.
"was i expected to be elsewhere?" you try to keep your voice clipped, but you are aware of how it shakes. "this is my lab, after all." unnecessary elaboration. he would catch on.
if he did, he made no acknowledgement of it, perhaps for your own benefit. strong fingers grip your shoulder and you realize you're far too weak to look away. "…could go 'n see the lass. she's stable, y'know." when you meet his eyes, you cannot hide your disbelief. he understands without you saying a word, a sensation both appreciated and terrifying. his hand slips into his pocket and pulls out a recognizable bottle.
"ah, right. i must admit to being shocked that you'd know to grab these. did someone tell you about them?" the smile on his face is gentle as he hops up on your desk, sitting in the only spot not covered in clutter. he cares, and you can't help but let your resolve waver. if you shared your feelings, he would listen. he always did.
"nah, it's… i know what it's like t' lose people ya care about. sleep's a right mess t' suss out after." it would be a lie to say that you weren't interested. you've read all their files, sure, but firsthand retellings were far more valuable. also, you could not help but find solace in your assistant's voice.
you drop the title when addressing him. "heathcliff," and he notices your manner of speech, "our assistant researcher is okay, correct?"
"uh- yeah, why-"
"that is all i need to know. i don't believe that i should see her when it is my fault she's in this state in the first place."
the look he affixes you with makes you feel so, so vulnerable. his positive qualities are terrifying when you're their target. "c'mere." you have to deny him. you move your chair closer anyway. he pats his thighs and you lay your head in your assistant's lap. his hand strokes through your hair, scratching at damaged roots. the soft purrs and clicks leaving your body were ones you didn't know possible to make. "nice, huh? they used t' do this t' me when i'd be gutted."
"to soothe or to sedate?"
"dunno. don't matter t' me, just know it feels good." heathcliff chuckles as you press your head into his touch. how long has it been since you've been comforted like this? you don't deserve any of it. his thumb rubs the base of your antenna and you jolt up. now there's a more warranted pain. "shite, 'm sorry! they sensitive?"
you have to take a moment to realign yourself, allowing energy to discharge through your body. nodding, you stretch back over your assistant's lap. berating him is impossible when he's being such good company. you just want- no, need- him to stay safe, and you'll only bring him down. "mate, i can see your cogs turnin'. penny for your thoughts?"
"i would be a poor excuse of a researcher if my mind ever stopped. still, it's…" don't do it, "…i suppose i'm afraid." stop. "i've lost marton. i don't know if alyssa will fully recover." he doesn't need to know about any of this. "and quite frankly, i hate uncertainties. you could say there's quite a lot on my mind." fuck, you might as well get it all out now. "i care about you too. even if it is a liability, i… enjoy your company, assistant." you didn't know what else to say. he would either distance himself or accept you. you weren't sure which was worse.
you remember exactly why you hate emotional conversations. all you can do is stare up at him while waiting for a response. at least his hand was still entangled in your hair. "what, d'you think i don't notice? i asked for your head 'n you didn't hesitate!"
"oh. hm." oh, you should have known. how stupid. he must think you're disgustingly desperate. "then, would you stay with me longer? i prefer this to being alone right now."
"'course, mate. i chose t' be 'ere with you." for the first time in days, a slight smile graced your face. "didn't expect you t' be so cute about it either."
you freeze up. you aren't sure if he means what he says, but you are positive you'll remember that every time you hit a new low. "how do you even exist. you make absolutely zero sense to me, and yet you're here caring about me like i've done anything to deserve it."
"you're more than y'think you are. 'n you make me feel that way too. that's all i need, innit?" you reach for the bottle of pills, trying to keep your expression neutral in the face of his praise. you think he can tell what you're feeling anyway. "'m not gonna tell you somethin' you already know. but seein' her after you have a kip would do you some good."
it's quite unpleasant to feel the pill sliding down your throat with no fluid, but the sedating effect is almost instantaneous. in a split second of panic, you assume you'll be left alone again. "wait, let me-" you try to sit up; though, your body is too fatigued to stay up. "give me your pda. i want to give you a way to reach me."
"oi, chill. there's already lce contact info on 'ere."
"no. i want you to have my personal contact. if there's anything you want to discuss, i'll-" a yawn tears through your speech. your assistant slips off your glasses while handing over his tablet. "i'll listen to you talk about it." he chuckles, as if you've said something extremely obvious. perhaps you have. it's impossible to tell anymore.
surprisingly, he is still with you when you wake up. you go to see alyssa, and she is resting peacefully, despite her injuries. somehow, you can't help but feel like this means everything will return to normal, eventually.