#every time i see posts about helpless uwu whumpees i think of my boy

[comfy-whumpee]

Equinox

If you can't remember where we left Ellis because it's been like a year, it was this one.

@bloodybrambles, @wildfaewhump, @ishouldblogmore, @lektric-whump, @that-one-thespian, @raigash, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @rosesareviolentlyread, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @burtlederp, @starnight-whump, @mylifeisonthebookshelf

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The sound of Ellis sliding out of bed woke Nic better than any alarm ever had. They opened their eyes and listened, instinct keeping them from jolting upright. Ellis was trying to be quiet. As they slowly blinked their way to clear thoughts unmuddied by their recent dream, they realised it would be best not to let him know they were awake straight away.

Some nights, he left the house and came back again. He went out for an hour or two at a time, but he always came home and climbed back into bed. They never slept while he was out, unless their beleaguered body gave them no choice; they would sit awake and wait for him. So far, he had always returned.

But at other times, it was a little stranger.

He staggered towards the steps, walking like a man on stilts. He tottered down the staircase to the living room.

Some nights, all he did was curl up under the desk and sleep, or simply cry. Nic pretended not to be awake for that, either. If he needed to cry, he should cry. It was good for him, even though he was mourning someone who had tortured him for years.

He was fumbling at the bottom of the stairs. Putting shoes on. They got up at the sound of him unlocking the door. He stepped outside. This night was a strange night, they knew, because he didn’t close it behind him.

They came to sit at the top of the stairs, looking at his silhouette in the doorway. He stood with his head tilted slightly upward to the sky. His eyes were closed, hands loose at his sides, shoes on under his pyjamas.

He was waiting, they thought. That’s all he did. He stood on the doorstep and waited for that man to come and pick him up.

They didn’t know how asleep he was. It might be total sleepwalking, some misfiring urge to move reaching him while the rest of him slept through the need to stop it. Maybe he still heard or dreamt the voice that used to call him to leave. Or perhaps this was his way of grieving, standing in the silent night and hoping for some kind of answer.

He had snuck out so many times that his body still tried to follow the pattern, convinced the night would end in his abuser’s arms.

Nic ached with longing. They wanted to take his hand and gently lead him back inside. They wanted to sit him down on the sofa and tuck his cold fingers into theirs. They would brush his hair back and help him lean against them. They would murmur soothing promises to him, tell him that he was safe, tell him that he was already home. They would gently love him and he would find that love as a light in his darkness, and it would guide him back.

Life didn’t work that way. The dullness of his stare scared them. The way he barely moved some days made them paralysed. This sleepwalking fugue, standing in the doorway like a sailor’s wife on the pier, made them sick to their stomach. This was the part of him that pretended, all night, that Alistair was coming back. The love he had for Nic was stolen, twisted, until he said always and only Master to their face.

Why didn’t the grief disturb him? It must have hurt, a piercing brand through his chest that made it hard to breathe, a pain so sharp and unrelenting it brought tears to his eyes. They shed a few of their own, watching him stand there in the dark. Why, even now, wouldn’t he wake?

When he finally turned, he came back in, took off his shoes, and walked back up the stairs without looking at them. Was he awake and unable to see them in the dark? Was he asleep and unaware of anything outside of his routine? Was he somewhere in the middle, unwittingly following half-broken instincts taught to him by a dead man?

He curled back up on the bed, and if he wasn’t asleep already, he was by the time Nic dragged their leaden body to join him.

The filtered light of dawn began to trickle through the curtains soon after. They would sleep once they stopped crying, they thought. Once their emotions drained out and they were exhausted. Sleep would claim them when they had nothing else to give the night. They waited, heels of their hands pressed to their eyes, teeth clenched to keep sobs to heavy breaths.

They were so fucking alone and he was right there next to them.

They couldn’t take care of him. They were barely surviving. Maybe a better person would have the inner strength to give, but they had dug deep into their reserves for too long. This shit had been going on for years, and he was dead, but it wasn’t over. They daydreamed about him going home to his parents, even just for a few days, but he wouldn’t even speak to them. They were the ones he was most afraid of knowing what he’d become, both the true and untrue parts. They had never seen the real extent of what had been changed about him, and he was terrified of their rejection even before.

Instead, there was Nic and the people they found for him. There was Rozen and Addison and Felicity. Four people to care for one, and Nic was the least able, and they were the one who was always there.

Birds were singing. Nic hated the birds. Hated the dawn. Hated the sunshine. The whole world was in denial.

Felicity would be waking up about now. Stretching, doing her yoga, eating breakfast in her little garden, maybe. Iz would be snoring in her bed or draped over some girl she’d gone home with last night, not a care in the world. Who knew what Rozen was doing? Probably deep into their research, actually doing something to fix what had made this happen, the people who had given Alistair his power.

Even Ellis was finally resting. Most mornings he woke up worse than he went to bed, his dreams never settled, but there was respite for him.

Nic had slept three to five hours each night for a week. They wondered if this was what breaking point felt like.

They hadn’t told anyone about the sleepwalking. It seemed pointless. It didn’t hurt him. It was less than an hour. He didn’t know or acknowledge it. What could they offer? Blame, because they couldn’t sleep without him accounted for?

It was so stupid. They got up and went downstairs, leaving him there before the resentment could twist too tightly.

Can I come over?

Of course. Does he need someone with him?

Even when she said yes, there was but.

Someone else can do it. I need a break.

She didn’t ask why they needed a break first thing in the morning. Want me to pick you up?

Yes please.

On my way xxx

Guilt chased them as they began the search. Rozen didn’t respond. Iz typed something barely coherent about research deadlines. They tried to negotiate, to offer check-ins, reduced time, remote caretaking, something that would let them out.

By the time Felicity arrived, they came to the door and told her they were stuck.

She looked at them for a long moment. She absorbed the tired resignation in their voice, the unkempt, unbrushed hair, the random comfortable clothes they had thrown on, and the tilt of their head against the doorframe. Maybe she could see how tired they were, and how long they’d been crying.

“You need a break,” she said. “I think it’s time to call his parents.”

“He doesn’t…”

Her eyebrows were drawn. She gave them a hug, a gentle squeeze and sigh. She smelled like toothpaste. “I know. But this isn’t your job, cupcake. You’re just one person, and you’re not okay. He has a family. They want to help him.”

“They hate me.”

“But they don’t hate him. You won’t be here. You’ll be with me, getting some sleep. Okay? And he has to see them eventually.”

It hurt, but she was right. Guilt squeezed their chest and the tears almost came back, but she was right. They couldn’t do this. They had to have space. Ellis would be okay. His parents loved him. He had avoided them ever since the first time he’d come home, but they would love him.

It had gone on for too long. They deserved to know what was going on with their son. Rozen’s reports wouldn’t be enough. Nic knew that from experience.

Even as they thought through the reasons, it felt bitter and flat. All of them were justifications to try and make their failure seem okay. They couldn’t cope.

“Alright,” they caved. “I’ll… Let me call.”

“I’m right here with you.”

They shivered in sheer relief. Okay. They dialled. Okay. They could do this.

“Hello?”

The Irish lilt sent a thrill of panic through Nic. “H-Hello. Siobhan. It’s Nic, I – I wanted to invite you over.”

She didn’t acknowledge their greeting. They could hardly blame her. She must have been waiting for so long for the go-ahead. “Today?”

“Yes, today. Now, if you can. I have to go out,” Felicity nodded at them encouragingly, and they pressed on, “and I don’t think he should be on his own. He’s been scared to contact you because of how – how different he is. Especially after he lied to you before. But he should see you.”

“I’ll be there.” There was the sound of Joe, grumbling as she presumably woke him. “We’ll come and take care of him. Just wait until we get there.”

It was delivered as a claim to responsibility, but to Nic, it was immense relief. They were good people. They didn’t like Nic, and that was okay. They were just protective, a little judgemental, and they wanted the best for him. They were good people, and they would take care of their son.

“You don’t have to see them,” Felicity offered, as Siobhan hung up on them. “You can wait in the car. I’ll give them the spare key.”

Nic squeezed their eyes shut, her suggestion seizing them with an unspeakable emotion. What would they think, meeting a stranger when Nic had called? Why could Felicity see so well what they needed? Would Ellis wake up and feel betrayed? Their heart wouldn’t stop hammering. Siobhan’s voice on the phone had seemed so annoyed.

Felicity hugged them tightly. “You’re overwhelmed. Go, get some space, breathe. I’ll take you home and look after you, okay?”

They shuddered in her arms. He didn’t want this, why had they done it? Hadn’t he been through enough things forced on him for his greater good? They were a hypocrite. They were selfish.

“It’s alright.” Felicity eased her hold and started walking them to the door. “Go on. He’s going to be fine.”

Would he? What if he hated it? What if they were terrible to him? What if they didn’t understand and made it all worse?

What if they took him back home and stopped him seeing them?

They walked to the car on numb legs, eyes unseeing. What if they blamed Nic again? What if they told Ellis that, and he believed them? He was so guileless now, so gullible. Would he reject them too? They couldn’t bear it. They pulled open the car door and climbed into the passenger seat, pulling their knees up to their chest. They had started crying again at some point, a dull headache starting up from the sheer number of times they’d cried since waking up.

When the car drove by, they almost ducked in their seat. They didn’t want Siobhan and Joe to see them in such a mess. But of course, they weren’t looking. They were looking ahead, hurrying out of the car to finally see their son. They barely even glanced at Felicity before taking the keys and shutting the door.

Nic closed their eyes, grief swelling over them again. They tried to let it go. They had done it. They had sent in the parents.

When Felicity sat down in the driver’s seat, she said, “Now you can switch off from him for a while and rest. Yeah?”

She knew what they needed. She always seemed to know the parts they didn’t like about themself, and she always, deliberately, embraced them.

“I’m proud of you,” she told them, turning towards them in the seat. “Really. Do you feel proud?”

Was there pride, they wondered, reaching into the hollow of their chest, or was this just shame? They weren’t sure. “I’m just tired,” they murmured.

“Then I’ll put you down for a nap with a hot chocolate,” Felicity decided brightly. “And when you come home later, you’ll see that it was all fine.”

#my fic #whump #caretaker whump #recovering whumpee #pet whumpee #it's time to move this bad boy ON #every time i see posts about helpless uwu whumpees i think of my boy #ellis #nic #felicity