I'm not trying to get on your case, Quentin. I just thought--
[That Quentin was safe. Enough. Wards and lack of threats and the promise he'd come out to the cabin if necessary. But it wasn't enough, and he can't blame Quentin for it. Just wishes he could stop being useless and helpless.]
[ From where he's languishing on the sofa, he tries to open up the connection broader. To show off that he's secure, he's safe, please don't. His soreness comes through, his fear of being seen like this, his mortification. Loneliness, too deepset to be new but terribly acute. ]
[The thing is that Murphy hates talking like this. Just words, just voice. He has to fake it, did it before to hide his experience with telepathy, does it now to not make anyone uncomfortable. But Quentin expands the narrow breadth of the connection between them, and Murphy loosens. Takes a breath, drops the mask.]
( How many times have you looked after me now? And then I wasn't there when you needed me. )
[No judgement, no pity. Anger and concern present, but muted, woven into a heavy blanket of kinship, understanding. Just wanting to be there. The sense that he won't have the chance to, because he'd let Quentin down once, and that failure means Quentin will now always reach for others instead.]
[ Relief and fear swell at once, and he sends the spot: a sweet-looking house on a well-paved street near the busy town center. The moment it feels like Murphy has a decent idea of where, Quentin shuts down--dead quiet--to worry. ]
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You said anyone you had to worry about was out in the caves.
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[ The name has come up more frequently in the last two months; they got close while Murphy was incapacitated. ]
give me a break, I didn't know the town was going to fall apart during the moot hall yesterday
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[That Quentin was safe. Enough. Wards and lack of threats and the promise he'd come out to the cabin if necessary. But it wasn't enough, and he can't blame Quentin for it. Just wishes he could stop being useless and helpless.]
Are you at the boarding house?
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idk if I could stay in the boarding house lol I couldn't even stay in my apartment, I got so spooked
[ lol lol lmfao ]
I'm sorry for not listening
you were right
how sick are you of being right lol
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Show me what his place looks like? I'm on my way. And don't be sorry. It isn't on you that this screwed up crap keeps happening.
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You're not coming into town
If it's not safe for ME how the hell is it safe for YOU
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[ From where he's languishing on the sofa, he tries to open up the connection broader. To show off that he's secure, he's safe, please don't. His soreness comes through, his fear of being seen like this, his mortification. Loneliness, too deepset to be new but terribly acute. ]
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( How many times have you looked after me now? And then I wasn't there when you needed me. )
[No judgement, no pity. Anger and concern present, but muted, woven into a heavy blanket of kinship, understanding. Just wanting to be there. The sense that he won't have the chance to, because he'd let Quentin down once, and that failure means Quentin will now always reach for others instead.]
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Murphy, I'm. Murphy, I'm. I'm fucked up. I fucked up. I just--don't--
[ Murphy knows the feeling: this will drive you away from me. ]
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( I'm coming. Show me where. )
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