Battle Scars [M]

What a night.

Talian trudged along slowly, his feet dragging beneath him and his heart dragging even further behind. His mind was alight with trauma and discovery, but also drearily slow and heavy. It was like walking through a fog bank; he knew where he wanted to go, but he was confused and hesitant when it came to actually getting there.

Had this night been real?
 
He ached. His body ached, his mind ached, his heart ached...every part of him was spent and shattered. He looked up at the lightening sky and shook his head. He wasn't surprised at how much time had passed. It seemed like a lifetime, but six hours or so seemed about right.

Talian wasn't sure what to do with himself after his run-in with J'ver. The incident was still horridly fresh in the young healer's mind, burning like torchlight. He could still remember the greenrider's warm breath, his scent, his cold, peering eyes...

The healer shuddered as he approached B'jin's hut. He wondered for a moment if he'd wandered there idly, as he first thought he had, or if his subconscious took him there, as he wanted to think it had.

He didn't need to tell B'jin, did he? B'jin was burdened enough with guilt and other hardships. Telling anyone wouldn't make it all right. Even now, Talian's skin crawled with remembrance. He'd heard the comparison to being dirty before, like he needed a bath. He understood the comparison now.

Did he smell like J'ver? He thought he did. What did J'ver smell like?

Would people know when they looked at him? Would the shame bleed through to the outside? Would they see it in his eyes?

What would B'jin think? Would he be ashamed? Ashamed of how poorly Tal had handled the situation?

He was ashamed. He was horrified. He was sad. But in a weird way, he was all right. He'd survived. But more than anything else in the world, he wished he had someone he loved to hold on to.

Even at Katila, the worst place in the world, he had at least that. He knocked again.

B'jin was asleep, which Larrikith approved of as she sat curled up outside her room, enjoying the warm weather as the season strode on towards Summer with unrelenting force. It warmed her blood and made her hide shine. Not quite full force yet, but Larrikith was a mature dragon, and she knew the strengthening sun and the warm days would soon be what she required, and Larrikith would take to the sky and lead her favourite boys (and some strays, she was sure!) a merry chase. But that wasn't yet, and even if she had been proddy yesterday, Larrikith knew today wouldn't be a day for Flights.

She'd been awake the entire night, her mind far from her own bonded as she kept it brushed against the mind of the young human she'd help Steal almost a full turn ago. She didn't really remember all of that, of course, but between B'jin's mind and the boy's, it wasn't hard to recall it. That night, he'd needed her, and while she couldn't go to him Larrikith had remained with her conscious brushed against his mind, trying to ease him as best she could, and completely aware of the utter failure she was being. Not because her help was unappreciated, but because he was completely unaware of her. Larrikith supposed it may possibly have been better that way. The child was being traumatised badly enough without him realising he had a live show.

All through the night, Larrikith kept it to herself, glad for the fact that she and her lifemate often did things without explaining to the other, often kept secrets from another. It was nothing unusual for her to be sidetracked as B'jin went about his evening routine, to not speak at all, or to ignore his requests. B'jin wasn't in a particularly chatty mood, anyway, as he worked on a commission he'd received from another rider (she didn't know what the deal was with it, but it was keeping B'jin occupied while she needed to be left alone, so it was all well and good) until he opted for bedtime and his mind went blank

Which wouldn't be the case at all if he had decided to pry for information on what she was up to. Larrikith wasn't delusional enough to believe she could hide anything from B'jin if he decided to find it. While her lifemate could collect information and shove it behind an impenetrable wall where Larrikith could never ever see or view it (or at least, not that she was aware of) the green dragon had no such defence against B'jin. The only reason he didn't pry was because he was respectful of her independence. Larrikith appreciated that, most particularly that night, because the things she was currently privy too would have set B'jin off. She wasn't aware of the full reasoning behind why it would send him off the deep end: all she knew was that one of his children was being hurt, and well, that was B'jin's biggest button, right there.

Which made the situation of the young man in question wandering towards their hut somewhat intimidating to the little dragon. Cautiously, she sat up, watching as Talian appeared from between some of the huts, walking the path in what was quite clearly a dejected manner. After a moment's pause, Larrikith lowered herself back down to the ground, peering up at Talian with a tilted head and doing her utmost to appear anything but intimidating. She would have been proud, to say it worked, but his thoughts and emotions were so thick, it didn't take any effort to realise that he hadn't seen her at all, could probably have walked right on top of her and not noticed her.

B'jin. Her voice was an insistent whisper, brushing swiftly and surely against the Harper's mind. He muttered under his breath and buried his face in his pillow. Larrikith's eyes flashed red with irritation for a moment, before she woke him with a loud mental sound that probably resembled a roar. B'jin woke with such a start that he literally toppled out of bed, landing on his arse and blinking rapidly. Unsure for what reason he'd just been jerked out of the land of sleep, B'jin peered up at the shuttered window. Dawn light was poking slim fingers around the edges and B'jin groaned. So many more hours still to sleep!

You have a guest, Larrikith's voice was soft, almost whispery and B'jin's eyebrows drew together as he frowned in confusion. Larrikith so rarely spoke in anything but an obnoxious (and usually loud when should be quiet) voice that her whispering was beyond weird. All the same, a knock sounded on the door and B'jin scrambled to his feet, snatching up a pair of pants that he hopped into rather comically  between bedroom door and front entrance. If it was R'nd, he would kill him.

It's Talian. Larrikith destroyed B'jin's completely irrelevant mini-rant before it had barely begun, not bothering to articulate that honest, if it were R'nd knocking on his door at dawn wouldn't he have a damned good reason to do so? B'jin grumbled something that may have been consent as he wiped a hand over his face and opened the door.

Brown eyes narrowed behind splayed fingers as the greenrider saw Talian on the other side of the now open door. His hand lowered slowly, eyes calculating and suspicious. B'jin didn't say anything, however, as he stepped out of the way and indicated with a soft movement of his hand for Talian to enter. The other remained firmly on the door handle. The greenrider's lips pursed.

Talian knew when he was being appraised. He smiled at B'jin, a weary and hollow smile that said more about his intentions than his actual emotions. A look of intense relief washed over him and without warning, he slid forward and pitched himself into a tight hug with the man. "I love you," Talian said reflexively as he felt the weight of the night catching up to him. It was like being pursued by a pack of baying dogs!

The little healer, as Larrikith called him, pressed his face into B'jin's shoulder to muffle the inevitable tears. They welled up like a flash flood. How had he made the long walk so quietly and stoically? He had no one to show out to, no one he feared showing weakness before. Why now? B'jin, Talian realized, made him feel safe.

It was the first time he'd felt safe all night, and certainly the first he'd felt safe since leaving J'ver. It was his first chance to cry. In the back of his mind, his original call to Larrikith still echoed. If only he'd known how she'd worried for him!

Tal's crying didn't last for long. He choked out mild tears for around half a minute before he peeled himself away and wiped his eyes. "B'jin? I...well, first of all, I'm okay. I promise. Please d-don't freak out..."

The color drained from his face. "...But I have to talk to you. Can I please come inside?"

The sudden hug caused B'jin no slight surprise, and though he startled, he was quick to wrap arms around the boy. Talian's words were not lost on B'jin, whose frown deepened as he brushed a light hand over Talian's back, soothing. "I love you too," he murmured softly into Talian's hair, worried. It wasn't quite in his voice, or his movements, but his eyes were dark with it.

B'jin grimaced to himself as Talian's tears left the boy's face in a sudden rush to collect on the greenrider's bare shoulder. Blah! He made no fight however, and continued to gently rub the young healer's back as he waited for the boy to get control of himself. Larrikith crept cautiously closer, keeping low to the ground and watching with eyes dancing in low colours, wary, and unsure. B'jin shot her a warning, questioning look but the little dragon ignored him as she crooned softly under her breath.

Narrowed brown eyes returned to Talian as the boy drew back from him, and B'jin unconsciously brushed one hand over the tear stained shoulder Talian had been crying on, even as the other hand brushed with a feather-light touch across Talian's cheek. "Reassuring," B'jin drawled, giving Talian a flat look as he stepped back and again indicated for the boy to enter the hut. He didn't bother to articulate that Talian need not ask to come in, or that he was always welcome to speak to him about anything. If Talian hadn't learned that by then, he probably never would. B'jin rolled his eyes heavenward in exasperation as he closed the door behind Talian, once he'd entered.

Be nice! Larrikith snapped.

Talian didn't have to see B'jin's eyes roll or hear the tone in his voice to tell that the man was exasperated. Of course, being excessively negative, Talian interpreted it as frustration. He swallowed hard, suddenly self-conscious and far less interested in coming inside, but he knew he must. He swallowed hard and shuffled nervously inside, his mind whirling with sudden intensity as he thought about the night before.

How could he even begin to tell this story? Doubtlessly B'jin thought it was just another tantrum, even though Tal had refrained from even casually referencing his past since the news of his child had arrived. He'd half-forgotten, half-repressed it. It wasn't important anymore. Things had changed too much at home...even if he could go back, he wasn't sure if it was even a good idea anymore.

Tears welled up again as he slipped into the hut. "Thank you," he whispered as he moved to the nearest couch, delicately seating himself and holding his knees together nervously. He bit his lip. "B'jin...something just happened. And I...I mean, I don't want to burden you with it, but I think you deserve to know..."

Already he stammered. He cursed himself and swallowed hard, trying to get his shaking voice and sweating palms under control before diving into the ugly details. How did someone even tell a story like this? Already it didn't quite seem real anymore. Was he already trying to suppress it?

In true Talian fashion, he proceeded with both caution and a strange sort of dignified resignation. He looked to B'jin with his sad tawny eyes and began: "I...I was drunk. It was stupid, but, I was lonely, and I got it in my head to go stargazing..."

He proceeded slowly, spending far too much time on his emotions and motivations. Then, eventually, J'ver made his appearance in the narrative.  Talian's embellishments and excessive details were immediately traded for stark frankness; as B'jin would put it, a 'factpile'. Talian told the story from start to finish, staring brokenly at B'jin the entire time. The healer's face was devoid of emotion, and he seemed to hardly even blink. Or did he blink at all?

When it was over, Talian rubbed a single tear from his eyes. "...I really do think I'm okay, B'jin..." he said with a sort of tentative confidence. "It's...I don't know. I'm upset, and I know it's bad...but at this point, I guess it's just..just another thing, you know?" he said, hoping for some sort of encouragement; anything.

"I love you, B'jin. I'm sorry I've caused you so much trouble. I don't...don't want to tell the Weyrleader. J'ver told me that if I told anyone at all, he'd bust you for going north for me. I...I just...I don't want you to get i trouble for me! Th-that's why this whole thing started. I just..just..you've done so much for me..."

Easy Larrikith whispered, her voice wrapping around B'jin's mind with a feathery touch, causing her rider to pause as he stood before the closed door. B'jin frowned and brushed his hand over his face again, rubbing the heel of his palm into his eye and attempting to wake up. Faranth. Dawn?! B'jin huffed a sigh as he watched Talian slink over to the couch, obviously unhappy. Well, he was unhappy when B'jin opened the door. Now he was more so. B'jin groaned softly and scrubbed his hands over his face again, trying valiantly to wake up.

"You're not a burden, Talian," B'jin grumbled, dropping his hands and staring at the healer blearily. Really! Dawn?! B'jin held up a hand as he watched Talian stumble over what he wanted to say, using the time Talian collected himself to leave the room. The Klah was turned to warm and a shirt was thrown on, the greenrider grabbing a face cloth and holding it under the tap for a moment, B'jin wrung it and returned to find Talian peering at him before he began. B'jin offered him the cloth and slumped into a chair, watching the Healer with a bland expression. Not a lack of interest, but rather a lack of functioning brain cells. Dawn?!

Pay attention! I am, B'jin responded irritably as he collected his wandering wits and tilted his head. A hand scrubbed over his face and back through his hair (which looked like a particularly decent bird's nest) and rubbed the back of his neck as Talian began his story. So he was lonely? Well, B'jin was more than happy to entertain him (and his face contorted into a confused frown) but did it have to be at dawn?

He didn't need Larrikith to snap at him to pay attention, as J'ver's name was mentioned and B'jin suddenly sat up ramrod straight, eyes narrowing and lips pursing. He knew Talian had gotten himself wrapped up in the issue B'jin had had with the other greenrider (it was something that actually made B'jin extremely angry, though he'd not let Talian catch so much as a whiff of that) and he was not completely unsurprised that J'ver had opted to seek revenge. The form of retaliation that J'ver had opted for, however, had B'jin go white, then slightly green as he stared at Talian with wide, horror struck eyes.

"He. Did. WHAT!" B'jin's voice was a furious hiss, snarling between his teeth. Completely rhetorical, and not expecting Talian to answer him again - B'jin had heard him the first time! - the greenrider felt his stomach drop and clench, rolling viciously and threatening to have him puke. He gripped the anger with both hands, unwilling to fall apart. He felt Larrikith on the edge of his consciousness, and slammed her out, causing the dragon to squeak vocally in surprise and a ripple of distress.

Talian sat quietly, his body poised and posture almost dignified, though the sheer weight of the event was visible in his face and especially his eyes. He frowned at B'jin, seemingly unphased by the anger he was witnessing.

"I brought it on myself," the healer said mildly. He didn't mean that he'd deserved it; just that he'd brought it on himself. He'd played with fire. "If I ran outside and grabbed a tunnel snake by the tail, I'd be a fool to not expect to be bitten..." The resignation and utter brokenness in his voice was evident. He just didn't have the energy to give a damn anymore.

"But..." he said after a moment of cold silence, "I...you have risked yourself to help me more than once, especially going north and checking on my family. I owe you something, I know I do. I've been waiting for a chance to repay you, and B'jin...I don't really care what happens to me anymore. It would be worth anything to me to protect you..."

His voice started to shake again as he spoke. He rubbed his puffy, dried out eyes and managed a weak and almost goofy smile. There was a hint of strength in there. He'd been through a lot, and while he was quite obviously affected by J'ver's disproportionate revenge, he was going to be okay.

Was it because he'd gotten stronger, or because there wasn't anything left unbroken anyhow? Either way, the healer did manage a very genuine smile. "I love you, B'jin...I'm sorry I got involved in all this mess. I just wanted to help you."

He rubbed his eyes once more, only to find no tears. They ached, but it seemed there wasn't much water left in the poor boy's body to cry anymore.

He straightened his posture again, sitting with the same nervous defiance as always. Tal had remained very insistent on his identity from day one. He knew who he was and what he believed, and though the riders may terrorize him in many ways, they would never change that. J'ver hadn't changed it either.

No sign remained of Talian's anger and hatred, previously visible in his words as well as his actions. He realized now that becoming hateful only meant the dragonriders had succeeded in changing him. His sense of identity was somewhat restored, but it had come at a high price. Mistrust and sadness still filled the boy, but at that moment, he was pleased with himself simply for having survived.

What a confusing mess of emotions it all was. Talian leaned back on the couch and let out a sigh. He was too tried to cry and too upset to analyze the situation too much, though he felt monumentally okay. Miserable, but okay. He was used to being abused. However, he was now certain that no amount of abuse would destroy him.

He could survive anything.

Talian wanted to make a joke about hating dragonriders. He reflected on what poor taste that would be, and how he'd always carried that certain little streak of morbidity. He snorted at himself.

He also started to ask B'jin's forgiveness, but he caught himself. B'jin hated it when he was overly-apologetic, and if anyone at Katila would understand, it would be B'jin. Everyone else would undoubtedly side with J'ver, at least to pessimistic Talian.

He would, naturally, assuming that he would be blamed. The entire Weyr probably would, assuming it ever got out, Katilans made a sport out of persecuting the victims of their crimes.

"Thanks for listening, Dad. I had to tell someone..."

B'jin's breath hitched, catching viciously in his throat and threatening to choke him, even as the onslaught of emotions and memories filled him, erupting past the barriers erected so many turns ago, designed to keep them at bay. To keep away those things that were stored with cerrated edges and would cut with rusty blades. Bjin shuddered, gasping in a sudden breath like a fish struggling on the shore line, eyes blurred with the past. He had had a strangle hold on the anger, but like a handful of water, it slipped away, leaving only drips behind.

Outside, Larrikith let out a plaintive whine, and head butted the main door. She couldn't reach B'jin mentally, so effectively blocke by him she suddenly found herself. Something was wrong, she could feel it coming in waves off Talian and - as the past night had given testament to - Talian was not easily alarmed. If he was getting uptight about B'jin, than so should she, even if decades of being bonded to Bjin simply indicated that she should wait for his tantrum to pass. 

Bjin was having trouble functioning, as past and present fought a battle he was simply a pawn in, the two sides screeching for dominance, to have the green rider sitting in the armchair react the way they desired. The past, wishing to break free from restraints of turns past, sick of being lost in the dark depths of a room unacknowledged. Of being repressed and for all intents and purposes, ignored. Chained, bound, restrained. The past fought viciously to reclaim its glory. 

But the present fought back, tooth and nail, claw and fire it hissed at the past and attempted to give it back where it belonged - out of sight, out of the way, in the dark! - so that it could focus on the here, the now, the youn man sitting on the couch, staring at his father with that look - begging for forgiveness as of e had done something wrong! As of it were his fault, as if he really had asked for it to occur. As of anyone asked for any such thing!

Bjin hissed between his teeth, an stood suddenly. He was unbalanced, internal war as visible in the drunken sway as it was on his contorted features; horror, terror, anger, confusion, and guilt, do very much guilt. His hand reached out, gripping the back of his seat for a moment. Then B'jin staggered out of the living area, completely blind to the world, and collapsed against the kitchen sink, choking as his stomach rebelled and forced his evenings dinner up, coughing and spluttering and gripping the edge of the sink with white knuckled fingers. 

"Didn't need help," Bjin finally groaned, when his stomach had stopped rebelling and he slid to the floor in a mess of legs an arms, lifting the hem of his shir to brush over his face, red, and shining with a thin layer of sweat. "Nothing. Ever! Is worth your being hurt, Talian." B'jin's features were twisted into a horrible combination of heartbreak and guilt. Oh. The horrible terror he had wrought upon the boy! Fix him, D'ren had said. not break him. Not torture him. Not throw him to thread and time his distraction. Fix him!

B'jin's bottom lip trembled for a moment, brown eyes almost black with guilt as he stare up at the boy. How could he fix that which could never be fixed? How did he give Talian back the life he'd lost (because of him!)? How did he give him back his fiancée and his daughter? How did he give him back his goals and purpose? How did he take away the traumas his association had brought down upon the youn mans narrow shoulders?

You can't, Larrikith said gently, slipping back into her niche within B'jin's mind as he gathered himself back together - a he removed from her access those things he had let slip moments earlier. He's not asking you too, she added, lifting her head to peer through the kitchen window, eyes swirling with distress.   All he wants is your love. she didn't feel the need to add any more than that, as Bjin turned, wide, sad eyes on Talian. 

How could he explain to the child that he knew what he was going through? That he knew what it was like to have his life torn apart by people who didn't seem to care at all. That he knew what the dark and vicious side of dragon riders looked like. That he understood -- all the while Bjin was completely unwilling to tell anyone he had that knowledge stored away; not even his dragon. 

Those beasts which were the catalyst for it all; good and ill both.

---

written and posted on iPhone. I'll edit later to make it more legible. <3

Talian inhaled deeply, watching regretfully as B'jin...reacted. Part of Talian was glad to see it. It showed how much B'jin cared, but it still made Talian feel horribly guilty.

He knew B'jin regretted the situation he'd put the boy in. Tal had cried and begged and clawed for his freedom for so long, but both he and B'jin knew nothing could ever be done about it now. To see B'jin not only acknowledging the wrongness but living with the consequences, it really meant something. Even the acknowledgement was more than Talian expected from most Katilans.

B'jin really was one in a million...or at least one in two hundred.

Talian got up and followed anxiously as B'jin ran to the kitchen. The greenrider had lost last night's dinner in the sink, it would seem. Talian frowned and approached nervously. Was something wrong that he couldn't see?

Why did he have that flickering suspicion that there was? Of course, unable to justify it, Talian let the thought go as quickly as it came to him. Instead, he approached and nervously put his hands out to hug the greenrider.

It came easier than he expected. Tal didn't want a dragonrider to ever touch him again, but B'jin was different. B'jin was safe.

"I'm going to be okay," the healer promised weakly as he attempted to curl up to the man. He reached out to Larrikith as well, even unconsciously. He needed the safety, he needed to feel their love...and he needed them to know that he would return it, he would do anything he could for them.  "Thank you so much. For everything. I mean that...you...care more about me than anyone else ever has. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Talian tried to think of something else to say, but his words failed him. A couple silent tears managed to escape him and his and his steady surgeon's hands shook uncontrollably. There were no more words, only silent reassurances.

He didn't know what would happen now. But at least he didn't have to walk into it alone.

"I'm so sorry," B'jin said hoarsely, fighting to calm his breathing as Talian curled up against him, surprise flashing visibly across his face, confusion lighting up his eyes though he took it in stride, wrapping his arms gently around the boy. B'jin dropped his head, feeling queasy, to rest his forehead against Talian's shoulder. "You have that," he allowed, voice soft, "you have that." A shudder ripped through B'jin, his body near seizing with the intensity. When it passed, he shoved splayed fingers back through his hair, removing the growing dirty blonde strands from his face.

To be alone... B'jin trailed his thumbs idly across Talian's cheeks, removing the fresh tears and wiping them onto his pant leg, gaze not entirely there and the motions out of synch. His features were pale, blank, as his mind wandered far away. Larrikith let out a plaintive whine from the other side of the window, eyes flashing with irritation. He's gone, she said irritably to Talian, voice grumpy. He wasn't literally, of course, but with her words to the young healer came the unworded information that she'd been butted out of B'jin's mind; that he'd gone wandering down lanes she didn't have access to.

Stupid man! Larrikith gave a soft hiss of irritation, battering uselessly against B'jin's mind as her eyes flashed hotly on the other side of the kitchen window. Inside, B'jin was oblivious to the world, his mind wandering. And then... B'jin gave a breathy little gasp, and shook himself fully, reflexively tightening his arms around Talian for a moment, before jerking away. He hit his head with a clunk against the back of the kitchen bench, swearing under his breath as he retracted his arms from Talian, one hand rubbing at the back of his head while he frowned up at Talian in confusion. "Ow!"

Larrikith's voice was dry; Welcome back. Turning her attention to Talian, she spoke lowly and to him alone as B'jin continued to rub the back of his head, still looking irritable. He will act like he did not freak out. She murmured gently, rustling her wings as she adjusted her point of view through the window. He is strange. The fact that if anyone should understand B'jin would be her, was lost on the little dragon.

"I'm sorry," B'jin said softly, turning tired brown eyes on the young Master Healer, and he leaned over to kiss Talian lightly on the forehead, slumping back against the bench and shaking his head slightly, he then rose. "Klah?"

---

[sup]Denial. At it's strongest.[/sup]

Talian was alarmed, even frightened by what he saw.

He knew madness when he saw it.

"B'jin?" he asked cautiously, sliding somewhat timidly into the man to accept the kiss. The healer frowned, his thin hands still shaking, as he watched B'jin take his seat. "N-no," Tal said softly. He blinked and cleared his throat. "Um, I mean...I'll do it. You just sit right there, okay Dad?"

For a split second, Talian had almost been frightened of the greenrider. It wasn't that he thought B'jin would harm him, but the incredibly bizarre sight he'd just witnessed was more unsettling than any physical threat could have been. He shot a puzzled glance towards the window, expecting to Larrikith's worried gaze.

Talian had known B'jin long enough to know that this wasn't right. The young healer's worries about himself drained away, at least for a moment, as he moved towards the pantry to collect the things he needed to make klah. If he'd been near-addicted to it before, he was sure he'd be totally addicted to it now. Shards, nothing on Pern sounded better than a good mug of klah now...

He was quiet while he worked, patiently heating the water and preparing both the usual ingredients and a couple special ones of his own. Fiora had always made him the best klah. Maybe that was one of the reasons he'd leaned on it so much during his initial separation from her; it reminded him of her, but in a distant and patient way, not a grating or painful way like so much else.

He still felt a pang of sadness as he thought of her, but he was much more level-headed about it in that moment than he had been for almost a turn. He dutifully duplicated her recipe, trembling hands falling steady after a long night of pain. He was as focused during that act as he was during any surgery, his eyes unwavering and intense. He wanted it to be perfect for his father, but he was also trying desperately to think of what to say.

"Dad?" he asked after an uncomfortable stretch of silence. His timid voice lapsed into the same quivering tone it had carried all those months ago, during their first encounter. He poured the klah and sniffed it, enjoying the soft herbal fragrance. He took a sip.

Perfect.

He hurriedly carried one mug over to B'jin and offered it to him. "...This is the recipe Fiora used to use. It's a little light on the honey and has some special herbs in it. I...I hope you like it," he said, awkward and sweet. He frowned, then turned his own mug up, regardless of the fact that it was hot as all hell.

His hands started to shake again.

"B'jin? I...I wish you'd tell me what's wrong," he said lightly, taking a step backwards as if he expected to be lashed out at. He could have elaborated on how he knew the signs, or how he knew B'jin so very well by now...but instead he left it at that, soft eyes appealing but not demanding. He wasn't going to push, but he felt like he had to at least let B'jin know that he'd been paying attention all this time.

He sat down and sighed heavily. He felt his eyes tearing up as the previous night came back to haunt him again. How unfair it was, for him to come complaining to B'jin about something that was his own fault. How depressing it was to know that even if he did expose J'ver for his crimes, nothing would likely come of it! It was the sad truth about this terrible place, though a truth that the healer was content to bear in relative silence this time. He needed only one person to listen, but he was filled with the overwhelming suspicions that B'jin needed that someone as badly as he did.

Why?

His eyes watered, but he stubbornly wiped the tears away. No more crying! The time had come to be strong.

B'jin blinked at Talian's soft voice, then frowned slightly when the young man insisted on getting the klah himself. The greenrider's lips pursed unhappily, but he didn't fight and instead slid back down onto the floor, crossing his legs and watching quietly as the young Master worked. It irked him that Talian was insisting on doing the simple chore when he should be the one being tended to.

The greenrider's silent gaze shifted to meet Talian's as the boy brought him a mug of klah, and B'jin accepted it placidly, taking a sip. "Thank you," he murmured, wrapping his fingers around the mug and feeling the warmth creep up his arms. He sipped more, eyebrows drawing together as once more Talian spoke. Brown eyes flashing as his lips pursed for a moment once more, then an eyebrow arched slightly. "What's wrong?" he asked, mildly. The other eyebrow arched up to join its partner. "Where to start." Now his voice was low, and held an undertone of anger. His eyes flashed, but they were directed at the wall, not at Talian.

"He will pay for this."

Talian smiled softly, pleased that B'jin had responded to him at all. He'd honestly come to expect a great deal of evasion from the greenrider, but hearing even the smallest bit of acknowledgement of those heavily-repressed issues put Talian a little bit at ease. At least B'jin was aware of it himself.

That was a start.

Tal's thoughts on the matter dropped into oblivion at the next words, though. The previously calm healer's face blanched as he rose to his feet, eyes wide. "Oh, B'jin..." he whispered, quickly moving across the room. He seized B'jin's shoulders in his cold hands and squeezed tightly.

The terror in his eyes was absolute.

"Please, please don't say anything..." he said in a haunted voice. His blood chilled in his veins as he thought of the implications. "Pleas...J'ver said he would turn you in if I told anyone, and if you say something to him...I'm...I'm afraid he'll do it again!"

He clutched tightly to the fabric of B'jin's shirt and shuddered. He took a moment to steady himself, to try and regain his composure. It was all a sign of just how fragile his apparent peace really was. He felt okay in general, but the idea of it happening again...it stopped his heart.

"Please, B'jin. I can't take it again..."

B'jin drew back against the backing behind him when Talian was suddenly in his face, gripping his shoulders. The greenrider's eyes were wide, but the emotions swirling through them were mangled. While there was no immediate visual of fear, it was also abundantly clear that B'jin was not at all comfortable with having the frantic young man in his face like that. Frowning, B'jin let his cup set on the floor, and gently de-tangled himself from Talian, rising as he did so and pushing the boy away enough to give him breathing space.

"I said nothing about telling anyone." B'jin said frankly, voice somewhat irritable as he glanced at Talian once more before stooping to pick up his mug and put it on the sink. He couldn't recall finishing it, but it was empty. A quick glance to the floor told he had not spilled it. Well, he must have drunk it then. Blinking, B'jin turned back to Talian and crossed his arms over his chest, frowning again.

B'jin's chin tilted slightly, expression stubbornly set. "Turning me in would have been preferable." B'jin said with a dark look at the roof, lip twitching irritably. "And he will not do it again," B'jin snarled, though the tone was aimed at his fellow greenrider, not the young Healer. Stalking across the kitchen, B'jin raked both hands back through his lengthening hair. Son of a bitch!

"I'll kill him!"

Tal pulled back quickly, the very moment he noticed B'jin's discomfort. Instead of clinging to his father, the boy instead began to wring his hands anxiously. "I..." he stammered, cut off by B'jin's outburst. He listened for the duration, cringing at the last words.

Tears welled up in his eyes. He once again refused to let them fall, but at the price of sputtering and shaking like a fool. He'd tried hard to be strong all evening, but such emotion was too much. He felt himself falling apart again, and it was all he could do to keep his calm.

"I...I..." He slumped to the table and buried his face in his arms. "...I'm sorry, B'jin! It's all my fault. I know I sh-should have stayed out of it, but I wanted to help you! You've done so much for me and put up with so much, I j-just wanted to give you one thing back. Just one thing!" he wept. "I didn't mean for it to turn out like this...I didn't..I..."

What was the point? No matter what he said or did, it seemed like B'jin always scolded him. When he was unhappy with the Weyr, B'jin told him to stop being sad. When he tried to end his own life, he was selfish to have done so, even though a rider would have been allowed such an end without complaint. When he became bitter, he was wrong. When he worried about himself, he was selfish.

When he worried about other people, he was stupid. Or something. Talian wasn't sure what he'd done wrong, but he knew it was something.

He fell off into a fit of tears. He'd cried briefly upon arrival, but now everything came out. His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists and his body drew up in the horror of remembrance. Yes, he was sure he still smelled like J'ver.

How awful of him. Now B'jin's wonderful, clean hut would smell like J'ver, too! And it was all his fault!

Suddenly, Talian realized his stomach was unwell. He whimpered softly and ran to the sink, where he imitated his father's previous action. He vomited, his entire body retching horribly as his stomach empties itself.

The smell was horrible, but at least it smelled better than J'ver.

He heaved over the sink for another few seconds before slumping to the floor, where he landed in a pile of self-pity and confusion. He loved B'jin. He hadn't meant to cause him more pain!

B'jin spun, hands dropping and eyes widening at the plaintive note in Talian's voice. He stared at the young man, brown eyes dark and conflicted even as they narrowed subtly. Waiting. It didn't take a moment before the young man exploded into a sobbing, tearful mess and B'jin watched, expressionless. He made no motion to move as Talian collapsed at the table, head tilting slightly as he deciphered the words that came out, tear choked and breathy and filled with sobs.

It wasn't until Talian made a mad dash for the sink that B'jin finally moved, stepping lightly and silently after the boy he refrained from touching him. Considering all the effects the young Master had been under the past several hours, B'jin had no intention of spooking him or prompting Talian to attack him. He wasn't entirely sure that was the young man's style, but B'jin was in no mood to find out. Expression still curiously blank, the greenrider allowed his young charge to sink to the floor, while he himself rinsed the sink out.

When the task was completed, B'jin turned and squatted down, using one hand to balance himself on the floor, the other resting across his knee. "Talian," his voice was soft, gentle. "Love, look at me." Again, B'jin refused to so much as touch the boy, but his eyes were soft now, waiting. "You are not at fault." A soft sigh. "That is mine. I am so sorry, kiddo. You deserve so much better than the threadfall I've brought down on you."

It didn't take long for Talian to melt into the man's side again. It was hard, and the young healer hesitated for a moment, but even his recent hardships couldn't scare him away from B'jin. He leaned into the man, throwing his arms around him and lightly resting his head against his shoulder.His own shoulders heaved softly for a few seconds as he got himself under control again.

"...I don't care whose fault it is," Talian said, tearing his face away and looking both sweetly and sadly at the greenrider. "I just...I just want to feel safe again. I never feel safe here," he said, rubbing his puffy eyes and letting out a sigh.

"I mean...I don't know. I just needed somewhere to go, I guess...I'm s-sorry for dumping this on you, but.." He paused and bit his lip anxiously. "...Thank you so much for  being here. I don't know what I'd do without you. If it wasn't for you, I d-don't think I could handle...that..."

Kidnapping was one thing. How could he have ever survived this alone?

He clung silently to B'jin for a few more minutes before he felt his eyelids get heavy. The weight of the day crashed on him all at once, and he shuddered.

"....I'm here for you too, dad," he sighed, yawning. "You know that, right?" He never had forgotten about that bizarre outburst.

So tired.

"...Love you..."

And with that, he was gone.

Surprise fluttered over B'jin's face as Talian wriggled into his arms once more, though the emotion did nothing to stop him from collecting Talian close and holding him gently. B'jin murmured softly under his breath, a combination starting with low shushing, to wind up in a low pitched lullaby, the same he'd softly sung to Talian numerous times before. The greenrider had barely begun when Talian's body relaxed, sleep claiming it.

B'jin sighed softly, burying his face in the crown of Talian's hair for a moment, then stood carefully, shifting his grip on the young Healer as he rose. He hadn't spoken in response to any of Talian's sleepy murmurs, or his soft plea for safety. The greenrider could feel the tendrils of guilt churning in his stomach, as he turned to meet Larrikith's gaze for a moment. He could feel the concern the little dragon held for Talian, see it in the shades flashing through her eyes before she backed away. She shared her intention - no words, just the sudden knowing - and B'jin felt her leave between to reappear above the Weyr. Larrikith gave a chirp of greeting to another green, before winging off to go hunting.

It had been a long couple of hours, B'jin decided, as he carried the very dead weight of Talian through the main room and into the bedroom, kicking a toy out of the way as he went and oddly thankful his other two children weren't currently staying. Sighing softly, B'jin paused in the door way to consider his options, before turning slightly and settling Talian down on Indamor's bed. He tugged Talian's boots off and dumped them at the foot of the bed. Being remarkably gentle, B'jin pulled the furs up and over Talian, tucking the boy in with only a small pause as he examined one of the young Healer's wrists, features going through a rapid fire combination of expressions before settling on pursed lips. "Oh, Talian," a soft, deeply sad sigh.

Brushing the young man's hair back from his forehead, B'jin studied him sadly for a moment, fingers lingering gently before he sighed once more. Guilt, exhaustion, horror, sadness and fear crashed heavily down on his shoulders, causing the man to slump. His hand left Talian, raking back through his own hair in frustration, and the greenrider stepped away. His arms wrapped around himself as B'jin's gaze flashed once more to Talian, then he quietly left the room, closing the door softly behind him. The kid needed sleep. And he needed..? The greenrider breathed softly, collapsing on the couch. He needed R'nd; but he couldn't risk the questions the bluerider would be liable to ask.

With another quick glance toward the closed bedroom door, B'jin curled up into a miserable ball, crying softly.