accordancy | ◙ 03

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◙ 03

[he wakes up choking.

It's like he's picking up right where he left off. Panicking, clawing, fighting for air. There is no voice, but there is still sound for the book to catch. The kind of struggled breath that comes from barely fighting back sobs, air thick in the lungs, raw in his throat as he tries desperately to come to his senses.

He's just not used to this. Breathing. Feeling. Suddenly existing again. As bad as the nightmares have been, this is abruptly worse.]

((ooc: Coil's back! ...not that many people knew he was even gone, or anything. Robin is finding him in person, but if anyone says anything over the journal, he'll get back to them after he can find a pen))

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[well, not much to do but fold the cloth inside-out and do it again.]

I don't know what happened, but... welcome back, I guess.

[he wants to ask him a million things, but... barely able to function on top of his normal silence? he can wait until the guy is well enough to hold a pen.]

[communication is not exactly something he can adequately wrap his mind around right now, but Robin's words still pull his eyes open again.

'don't know what happened...'

He's searching when he meets Robin's eyes. Until now, he'd been hanging onto the loose idea that Robin would have known what had happened. He'd even half-assumed that Robin was part of the reason he'd been brought back. He can't really remember why he'd thought that, but...

Hearing that Robin is apparently just as confused as he is, however, strikes something weak in him. Now, he has no idea what could have happened, no place to start, and that is a suddenly terrifying thought]

[he notices the shift. his motions stop for a moment as he hesitates, trying to decide what to do. this is way outside of what he's used to.

but after a little huff of air, he shrugs and crawls over to Coil's other side, sitting up against the headboard right next to him.]

Hey, don't worry. We'll figure it out.

[he'll continue to pat at his face with the cloth a little here and there, occasionally checking to see if he's cooled down any. ...more out of want of something to do than him actually thinking it'll work.]

Relax for now, okay? I won't let anything bad happen to you.

[...how many times has he said that, lately? he immediately regrets the words leaving his mouth--what if he can't do anything? but it's not like he's not going to try...]

[the reassurance hits him strangely. Feeling familiar, it brings back more of those broken-up memories. Robin had told him before that it would be okay when it really wouldn't, didn't he? Just to make it easier.

Is this like that was, then? He doesn't feel like he's going to be okay.

He visibly crumples a little under that thought. Shoulders sagging and hunching up anxiously, pulling in a breath like there isn't quite enough air around him, he can't make himself believe that it's actually over.]

[but the first time, he wasn't around for it. he feels... a lot of things. happy, guilty, a little scared. he's mostly following a raw instinct, an idea that he should do everything he can to keep this guy out of danger.

seeing him shrink away like that just worries him a little more. it pushes against his predetermined set of boundaries and, for some reason, he decides that it's a good idea to scoot over and draw this guy up into a sideways hug.

he really did miss him, in a sad... pathetic sort of way. he didn't think he'd see him again. it's... he doesn't really know how he feels about it, even if Coil was only really an acquaintance of his before.]

I mean it. You're not going anywhere.

[his first reaction is to tense up all over, feeling crowded like a bird with pinned wings. Everything is just so chaotic--he feels like there are still pieces of him spinning around free-floating, not quite put together right--the embrace adds pressure to already feeling sick and strangled.

The contact is not something he's used to, anyway. It's something that jumps past his comfort zone, sidling right into somewhere that he normally doesn't even have to worry about protecting. Everyone is kept at such a far arm's reach that they never even try. But now, Robin is suddenly there, and Coil doesn't have the chance or the strength to put him back where he belongs, this time. And it's not just the Robin who likes to play with and bother him-- it's whoever took time to talk to him at the end.

At first, Coil feels like fluttering and fighting. And then, to his disjointed horror, he realizes that it's pulling him back together a little bit. Being wrapped up, held still, it slows him down enough. He needs to be in control, he can't manage it himself, and succumbing to this fact crushes him a little more. It takes him a few distraught moments, but he finally gives up.

He sinks a little. His head bows; his fingers move just enough from clutching the blanket to hang loosely onto Robin's sleeve, as his remaining supports begin to crack.]

[he really has no idea whether it's helping or making things worse, but... the fingers at his sleeve solidify the idea that maybe he shouldn't move for a while. at least Coil isn't trying to claw him away this time.

so he stays there, very quiet and still. he'll let him collect or break down or whatever it is he needs to do.]

[he really does try to collect himself. But, the more he tries to piece back together, the more things just crumble apart. He thinks, remembers, realizes-- until it's all just this overwhelming pile of horrible things all around him. If he'd had a chance to hold himself together before, the fever just chews right through any solid footing he might have had.

He died. He failed and disappeared, saw things that no living thing should see, and now he's here. Where nothing makes sense, and he can't even hold himself up enough to be able to stop leaning on someone else.

He's collapsing from the inside out, curling up on himself. It's only a matter of moments before his shoulders begin to shake, as he falls apart]

[and he still doesn't do much of anything. he doesn't mind, really. he didn't have it composed in his head that Coil was any less prone to emotions than--well, himself. he's just better at keeping things inside most of the time. so it isn't some big, horrible disappointment that dying, followed shortly by suddenly not being dead anymore is a hell of a lot for the kid to handle.

so he'll just stay there. shift enough to tug Coil's blanket up around him a little more, but otherwise just be something physical to lean on for a little while.]

[Coil is disappointed in himself. A little devastated about the whole thing, actually, so it's hard to imagine that Robin wouldn't be judging him the same way.

For a while, he really is helpless to do anything but just completely come apart at the seams, clinging and leaning pathetically. It isn't the gripping all-consuming terror that the tram had brought, so he's at least quiet about it. Still, he turns his head and buries his face so he can further muffle voiceless sobs.

He can't stand the sound of it.

As soon as he can catch a breath--and it takes a while--pulling himself together enough to devolve into miserable hiccups, he retreats. Pulling back from Robin, he reels himself in but can't quite raise his head, simply exhausted and shamed.]

[he lets him pull away when he does. with his head bowed like that, Robin picks up the wet cloth again, leaning in to wipe at Coil's face a little. it'll feel better.]

Hey, it's fine. [...probably doesn't help, but he wants to say something. he ends up pressing his lips to the other's temple in a very short kiss--something second-nature and nearly subconscious for him--before he mumbles something about fixing the cloth and stands up to go run it through cold water again.]

[he doesn't react--to much of anything. He's too pulled apart. It'll take him a minute.

The need to feel whole and contained is still there. And he's cold. So, he manages to pull the blanket more tightly around himself once Robin steps away, like a cocoon--that wrapped up feeling the closest he can get.

It helps, a little. By the time Robin comes back, he'll still be teary-eyed, but the hiccups will have stopped. He'll be able to hold his head up enough to be waiting with look for him-- searching and guarded. Whatever words might have been attached to it if he'd been able to used them, he's looking for something]

[and he returns predictably, cold cloth in hand. if he's thinking about it, he doesn't show it so much--and the look catches him a little off-guard. he hesitates, then manages a small (but rather characteristic) frown.]

What's that look for? Don't worry.

[about what--well, he isn't going to say. he'll just move back to sitting at his side and doctoring him, occasionally feeling for any changes.]

[between the fatigue and Robin's vague reassurance, he drops whatever it was. Sinking back into just focusing on coping with being alive.

The fever lets up maybe a little, but it's definitely of the supernaturally stubborn variety. As is whatever Coil keeps seeing-- his eye glancing up to focus somewhere far off every once in a while, following something that isn't there as it moves around the room. And then it's right back to looking like he could pass out at any moment]

What do you keep looking at?

[that comes a bit out of nowhere, out of a very lengthy silence. because oh, he notices. he just doesn't have any idea what it is that Coil has noticed. with this whole thing, who knows--maybe something is still hanging around him.

but he doesn't seem worried about it, or anything. he settles back down into a place next to Coil.]

[he certainly wasn't sleeping, but he still sort of blinks awake at Robin's voice. Refocusing and returning to himself, pulling into a smaller shape with the sound of a half-surprised inhale.

He doesn't know if he could explain even if he'd wanted and had the means to. So, he just rubs his eye with a blanket-covered fist, and shakes his head]

All right... [at least he can trust that it's not immediately terrible. his gaze drifts to other things, like the wall and the ceiling, but he eventually slouches back against the headboard and nudges Coil's shoulder.]

Do you want to sleep?

[the mere suggestion has his eye widening, fear seeping in until he looks nothing short of haunted, and he shakes his head.

Exhaustion is all over him, pooling in the weary shadows around his eyes and pulling on the lines of his brow, and yet he can't imagine letting himself rest. He's just spent weeks drowning in powerless nothing... and the thought of going back there, even for something like sleep, is a terrifying idea.

He might not come back again.]

All right, all right. You don't have to.

[...if he doesn't want to sleep, Robin doesn't exactly know what else to do. he doesn't want to leave him alone. he basically has to wait around until he passes out.]

I guess I could take you somewhere else, but there isn't much else besides town... And dragging you through all that sounds like more trouble than it'd be worth.

[he might have been talking more to himself, with that last bit.]

[whether Robin was mostly speaking to himself or not, Coil still shakes his head. And then he lets it loll a little. He's really feeling awful. If he can't sleep, he can maybe try to disengage from it, at least.

Keeping his eyes open leaves him open to seeing, however, and it isn't long before the delirium gets at him again. A minute or so after it almost seems like his eyes might be getting heavy, he turns his head away from something that isn't there, and waves out a clumsy hand, trying to keep whatever it is away from his face]

[that still bothers him. he wants to reach out for Coil's hand and get him to settle, or help ward off... whatever it is that's still following him around. even if it's really just night-sickness, he would love to do... something.

but he can't see it. he could if he was... hm.]

Hey, Coil. [he brushes the kid's bangs out of his face for a moment.] Those wards you've got up... do they keep magic and auras inside the room?

[he balks and winces, but it's before Robin even touches him. It's in reaction to what he's being asked-- really realizing for the first time that someone else is in his room, seeing the runes that he hadn't had the chance to hide before he died.

Looking across the room toward the window-- ah yeah, he's within sight of one right there. The harsh furrowing of his brow that follows is his silent equivalent of a curse. He'd been so clumsy...]

[that look... he lets the other's bangs fall back in his face, looking a little sympathetic.]

Hey, I would have found them anyway. I'm kind of sensitive to that stuff.

[he's glancing up at him-- not quite sheepishly, but definitely looking for... something.

Answering anything about it is something he has a hard time with, even to Robin, even in the state he's in]

[usually he can read him pretty well, but this time? he's just not sure what Coil is looking for.]

I'm not gonna... tell, or anything. If that's what you're worried about.

[he's... not really sure either. The reassurance doesn't feel enough, but he doesn't know what else to ask. He wants to know why Robin is asking, he wants there to be something that Robin can say to make it feel okay to answer anything about... but it's not possible, and he can't articulate any of it anyway, so it really doesn't matter, does it?

All he knows, really, is that if there is anything Robin can do to help the situation, he desperately wants it.

So, huddling up in the blanket--he's so cold and nothing looks real--he just nods. Presumeably in answer to Robin's original question]

All right. Good...

[he's hoping that's what he's nodding about, anyway. he's still debating whether or not he'd want to show him--only two people know, after all, and it might freak him out more than he already is...

in debating, he instinctively reaches over to wrap his arm around Coil's shoulder. maybe another moment of attention with the cloth. with this, it's effectively a waiting game.]

[if he's worried about what Coil might think about it... it's questionable that he's even aware enough to remember it as something real.

There's only a vague shift of his body--more towards than away--when Robin slips an arm around him. He's too wrapped up in staring at nothing, zoned out in that detached way that says that he thinks it's something.]

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◙ 03

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