[ He knows Hawk won’t want to, that he won’t want him to see the same vulnerability that he can hear in his voice, that he can feel in the tremble of his chin against his shoulder. Tim will allow him the dignity of not pointing it out, but he separates enough to look him in the eye, because Hawk needs to see him, sobered up and sure. The conflicting, confusing feelings, the heartache and the yearning, it’s all gone right now, irrelevant in the face of Hawk’s grief. In this moment, it’s all that matters, and Tim knows what he’s saying is true. ]
I saw you just a few hours before I woke up here, remember? I told you, we were saying goodbye before I left for Fort Dix. This was after he died, after the funeral. You were back home the whole time, it had nothing to do with this place.
[ Tim holds his head with both hands, keeping Hawk focused on him, praying that he can offer some comfort to him, no matter how small. ]
I understand the impulse to blame yourself, I do. [ Not for something this profoundly terrible, but he’s spent a lifetime catastrophizing about sending himself straight to Hell for other things, big and small and ugly and beautiful, the man in front of him perhaps chief among them. If he damns himself over Hawk, that’ll still be his choice to do so, not Hawk’s. ] So you can trust me. I know what I’m talking about. It was not your fault. You understand me?
[ Raising himself on his knees just a little, Tim presses a kiss to his forehead and starts fluffing up pillows, similar fussy nesting habits as when he was taking care of Hawk after the wolf attack. ]
I’m gonna tell Koby to give us some space, okay? [ Stay the night. ] Get comfortable.
no subject
[ He knows Hawk won’t want to, that he won’t want him to see the same vulnerability that he can hear in his voice, that he can feel in the tremble of his chin against his shoulder. Tim will allow him the dignity of not pointing it out, but he separates enough to look him in the eye, because Hawk needs to see him, sobered up and sure. The conflicting, confusing feelings, the heartache and the yearning, it’s all gone right now, irrelevant in the face of Hawk’s grief. In this moment, it’s all that matters, and Tim knows what he’s saying is true. ]
I saw you just a few hours before I woke up here, remember? I told you, we were saying goodbye before I left for Fort Dix. This was after he died, after the funeral. You were back home the whole time, it had nothing to do with this place.
[ Tim holds his head with both hands, keeping Hawk focused on him, praying that he can offer some comfort to him, no matter how small. ]
I understand the impulse to blame yourself, I do. [ Not for something this profoundly terrible, but he’s spent a lifetime catastrophizing about sending himself straight to Hell for other things, big and small and ugly and beautiful, the man in front of him perhaps chief among them. If he damns himself over Hawk, that’ll still be his choice to do so, not Hawk’s. ] So you can trust me. I know what I’m talking about. It was not your fault. You understand me?
[ Raising himself on his knees just a little, Tim presses a kiss to his forehead and starts fluffing up pillows, similar fussy nesting habits as when he was taking care of Hawk after the wolf attack. ]
I’m gonna tell Koby to give us some space, okay? [ Stay the night. ] Get comfortable.