TRAUMABEANS AU

[conning]

boop

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[conning]

Neal blinks back into reality, staring at Malcolm and his panic with confusion. He feels groggy. Like he's dozed off sitting up.

When he looks down at his notebook, it's not a picture of Mathias--it's the mountains, or at least an impression of them, practically obscured by senseless scribbling.

"Did... I fall asleep?" He sounds as muzzy and confused as he feels.

[abrightboy]

"Sort of," Malcolm says. "More like a trance." He studies Neal's face, brushing his cheek with his thumb. "This thing that you were talking about... did you ever see it possess a person?"

[conning]

"I don't think so," he murmurs. God, he's tired. Tired enough that he hasn't put together how drained he is and why Malcolm would ask something like that.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm nods.

"Maybe we should order room service tonight," he suggests. "Are you hungry?"

[conning]

He is, he realizes. He nods. Presses his fingertips against one temple. His head feels stuffed full of fog.

Neal looks at the scribbles on the page again. “I clearly don’t draw very well in a trance.”

[abrightboy]

"Nobody does," Malcolm says. He picks up the room service menu from the bedside table. "What do you feel like having?"

[conning]

“You pick?” It’s a little more pleading than he means it to be.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm orders soups, with thick cut fresh bread on the side for Neal. He looks over, putting his hand over the receiver. “Do you want wine?”

[conning]

Neal nods almost automatically. He does--he wants to see what this place has that pairs with those soups--but also... well, it's automatic.

When Malcolm is off the phone: "Did I say anything while I was in the trance?"

[abrightboy]

Malcolm shakes his head.

"No. Nothing," he confirms, perching on the edge of the bed. "You were just... really... focused. And your picture... it didn't look like scribbles while you were doing it. It looked like a town on fire."

[conning]

"It did?" Neal looks up sharply. "That... happened. It happened more than once."

[abrightboy]

"The town you were in burned down? How... did it happen more than once? Did you rebuild?" Malcolm asks.

[conning]

"It rebuilt itself. It seemed to reset, almost, like it was stuck in that moment, or right before it. We'd go to sleep and when we woke up everything was pristine again."

He sets the sketchbook aside and rubs his eyes.

[abrightboy]

“Did anyone get hurt in these fires?” Malcolm asks grimly.

[conning]

Neal nods. He can't do anything more than that for a moment.

"Lots of people did." A pause, then, very quietly, "It's one of the ways I died."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm just blinks at him for a moment.

"That's..." He has no words for what that is. He can't fathom it. The mind isn't meant to fathom it.

[conning]

“Drowning was still worse,” he says, trying for irony, but the small smile and crooked tone don’t take the memories away. Neal shakes his head and gets up, slipping his arms around Malcolm, fitting himself against the smaller man like a person hanging on to a teddy bear.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm clutches him tightly.

"I'm sorry you have to know that," he says.

[conning]

“Me too,” Neal mumbles against his hair. Breathes him in.

After a moment he says, “Let’s explore. After we eat. Clear our heads.”

He’s not sure Malcolm’s needs clearing, but his definitely does.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm nods, looking up at him, studying his face.

“I like exploring. I bet you know how to find secret passageways and buried treasures,” he says with an enamoured smile.

[conning]

Neal grins, drinking in the compliment and the smile. "I'm pretty good at it. Generally speaking."

The food is good, not heavy. It's what he needed to feel a little more grounded. A little more real. They're in casual clothes, sweats and loose t-shirts, when they head out to wander the building. Clothes Neal won't scream internally over messing up, should the need or opportunity arise. He takes in the building as they wander down one of the halls, eyes bright with appreciation. "This place really is stunning."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm chose it for Neal. He chose specifically to Cheer Neal Up.

"I thought you'd like the..." He waves his hand at the wall. "Architectural... stuff."

[conning]

Neal smiles softly at that, going off on a tangent about architectural stuff that last them through a circuit of first floor and a good portion of the grounds. He doesn't so much run out of things to say as he gets distracted by the view of the back of the building from outside.

"It's surreal. Thinking about all the people who have been here before us. Maybe even for the same reasons."

A pause, a soft noise of amusement. "Similar reasons."

[abrightboy]

"The same reasons. They sell 'romance' as a reason," Malcolm teases. "Romance and escape."

[conning]

Neal snorts, then nods at the ground. "Fair point."

He twines his fingers through Malcolm's carefully, looking down at their linked hands. "Thank you."