It's a hall full of Wherries! [Talian]

"The Master Healer is much too busy for that!"

B'jin's voice was a high pitched nasal whine, imitating the tone of the woman he was mocking as he stepped into Talian's office and kicked the door shut with his foot. His face was a disgusted scowl as his fingers swept back through his lengthening hair. It hung for a moment before falling back across his forehead in a manner that was increasingly annoying, though he still hadn't managed to get around to having it trimmed. He was pretty sure he'd be able to coerce the bluerider into doing so, especially if he threatened to shear it all off himself. Finding the time to visit his lover and then bring up the topic, when much more interesting ones were available, just hadn't happened yet. It wasn't urgent, it was just annoying. Much like that woman.

"If that horrible wherry tells me one more time how you're too busy to see me, I am going to tie her to Larrikith and give her permission to re-enact that ride she took Val on." B'jin had been trying on and off for the past two weeks to get in and see his kid, only to be refuted - repeatedly! - because the 'master healer' this or the 'master healer' that! He was about six inches from demoting Talian, just so he could see the boy! "I don't know who brought her South, but imagine being stuck with that horrible voice" He altered his tone to match her nasal whine, "for three turns?" B'jin's nose scrunched up in disgust.

His expression then converted into one of smug delight. "She's gone to fetch some poor sod to take my stitches out. I don't think they'll look for me here," he threw a cheerful wink at Talian, full of mischief. "Or they might, because Oh my dear B'jin Master Healer Talian is far too busy to do that!. Though I made it pretty clear I was sick of putting up with their silly apprentices. Do you know one idiot told me off when I came in after Larri's flight? Because I had obviously made a mess of Master Healer Talian's good work!," again he mocked the voice of one of the healers, apparently a young man. "On purpose! Heaven forbid, the scarring won't be bad enough without popping half the stitches!" B'jin scowled and crossed his arms over his chest with a grumpy pout.

"So, if my dear Master Healer Talian has the time for a lowly greenrider's company, this lowly greenrider would very much appreciate spending some time with his kid!"

Tal was sitting at his desk, eyes fixed firmly on a list of recent medical reports when B'jin entered the room. The healer's eyes darted over and immediately lit up. "B'jin!" he said, sitting up swiftly and hopping to his feet. He'd been drearily lonely and mechanically overworked the past couple sevendays. Other than a terrifying encounter with R'nd in the bathhouses and a few pleasant conversations with Breccan, Tal had done almost nothing but work.  It was soothing in a way; it allowed him to pretend he was somewhere else and that he was still a real healer. On the other hand, well...he was getting accustomed to having friends, and in the Katilan setting he'd become somewhat dependent on them. He'd almost given up on ever seeing them again!

His expression drew up into an indignant pout as B'jin spoke. "...They never even told me that you came by!" he protested with uncharacteristic fire. Perhaps it was a sign that he was - ever so slowly - adjusting. Feeling better. Something.

He marched over to the door and locked it. Find him NOW, you facists! he thought before turning on his heels to face B'jin. His expression softened and mellowed, less lively but filled with a certain warmth. "I've missed you.'

It was true. He hadn't seen B'jin much since the suicide attempt. Tal still remembered that night vividly, laying fitfully at B'jin's side while the struggled for life. Tal would never forget that night. B'jin had done more for him than anyone else had in his entire life. While Tal was eternally grateful, he'd also missed his surrogate father an awful lot during his recovery.  The sudden isolation had hurt more than he'd expected, even though he had seen B'jin once...and what a bad day that had been.

Tal walked over and threw his arms around the greenrider. "Any time..." he said softly as he squeezed.

B'jin gave a snort of laughter, his eyebrows arching up his forehead at Talian's indignation. Brown eyes alive with amusement, the greenrider watched his young ward stalk over to the door and lock it. Laughter bubbled up and escaped as he hugged the young man to himself, placing a gentle kiss on the top of Talian's head. "Of course they didn't tell you," he said softly, voice thick with amusement. "My injuries are hardly Master-worthy and I'm pretty sure they could invent at least a million reasons why you're too busy in general to see me." He paused, then his eyes opened wide and he gave Talian a look of mocking epiphany. "Oh! They did!" Leaning backwards, B'jin tossed Talian a playful wink. "Those knots of yours are a royal pain, my boy." Still grinning, B'jin gave Talian a quick squeeze.

Releasing the young man, B'jin moved to peer over the papers littering his desk. He didn't look close enough to read any, not willing to break whatever confidentially Talian extended to his staff and patients, but he did pick one up and turn it around delicately to face Talian. The rider's eyes were wide as his eyebrows arched high on his forehead, getting lost under his growing hair. "Please tell me this is not your handwriting." Turning it back around and peering at it in horror, B'jin shook his head and put the sheet of parchment back where he'd found it. "I bet it belongs to your babysitter." He threw a wicked smirk at Talian and then sat himself down cheekily in the healer's chair, peering up at the young man with bright innocence, though the twitch in the corner of his lips belied his good mood and obvious teasing.

"So! What have you been doing, when you're not sewing people back together?" B'jin asked brightly, steepling his fingers before him and looking particularly comical in his mockingly serious expression and posture. His fingers folded, so only his pointers were held upright and he pointed them at Talian. "You first. Then you can fix my back, and then I will tell you my news. After all of which I am going to go and soak in a bathtub for about six hours." He smirked wickedly. "R'nd's sponge baths are very nice, but I'm afraid not even he can out master a real bathtub!"

Talian squeezed B'jin tightly, clinging to the greenrider in an effort to make up for all their lost time. The healer sighed, his mood lightening at the kiss and at B'jin's gentle voice. A little bit of positiveness was good for the boy, even though he generally found it pointless and annoying.  In some amounts, it could actually rub off on him a little bit, or at least lift him up.

"Well, then can screw off," he said in a deceptively pleasant voice as he released B'jin. Talian smiled, a wider and more lively smile than he normally managed, and returned to his desk...only to find B'jin had already swooped into his seat and was critiquing his handwriting.

Talian frowned. "I worked hard on that..." he muttered, quite proud of his intricately organized records. He had the steadiest hand south of the sea, why was his handwriting so terrible?

He pouted a bit and sat down on the corner of his desk. "And nothing. Nothing at all," he said, crossing his arms and producing a sound B'jin was far more used to hearing; a dejected sigh. "I've been looking after Jada and Farlint. Indivara is doing well enough, and Breccan took care of her own wounds..." He lapsed into a bit of a  dry, factual mode as he spoke. It was business, though a distinctly troubled expression played on the corners of his mouth and in his eyes when he spoke of the wounds themselves. It was gristly business.

He sighed again. "That's mostly it, though." He didn't want to get in to it, but really he'd done very little and had been rather lonely.  He was trying his best to put a happy face on for B'jin, though.

He'd promised to get better.

"It is your hand writing?" B'jin's eyebrows vanished under his hair as brown eyes widened suddenly, looking both amused and horrified as he backtracked rapidly. "Sorry." That was sincere, and then he killed it with further blunt honesty, looking bewildered, "but your writing is terrible. How did you get permission to use parchment?" Shaking his head, completely confused, B'jin peered back at what was written, eyebrows drawing together. "At least you can spell." Well, if that wasn't a pathetic attempt at a compliment, nothing was. "Well, I think you can. What in shards does that word mean?" A pause, before B'jin sat up once more, pushing the parchment away. "Actually, don't worry. I'm sorry." An apologetic look was thrown to his young healer, and B'jin rubbed a hand over his face.

Sighing, he leaned back into the chair he had stolen as Talian seated himself on the edge of the desk, eyes narrowing thoughtfully as the boy spoke, lips pursing for a moment at Talian's own sigh. "How is Jada?" He asked softly, concern washing over his tone as he asked about the girl; she was one of his and while his relationships with his other Candidate's wasn't as personal as the one he held with Talian, he did take an active interest in their wellbeing and how they were settling into the Weyr. Jada was a spunky young woman, a harper, and now she was a major hope for the future of their Weyr. B'jin had many reasons to be concerned over the girl's wellbeing, but mostly it was genuine interest in her health, because he liked her.

"I'll try and see her when she's less closely monitored." He said softly, flashing a quick smile, he shifted subjects subtly. "Have you taken time to see the boys?" B'jin leaned forward, expression oddly serious as he stared up at Talian. He was pretty sure Talian hadn't taken time out to see Valerian or Erisi much since their Impression (if at all) and his face contorted to show his lack of happiness at his fostered son avoiding his friend and lover. "They likely miss you as much as you do them," he said softly, reaching forward to place a hand lightly on Talian's knee, and giving it a soft squeeze. "Weyrlinghood can be very lonely." Giving a dry, half smile and another gentle squeeze, B'jin pulled his hand back into his lap and twined his fingers once more.

Clearing his throat softly, B'jin leaned back and peered up at Talian from under his eyelashes. "Larri flew the other day. It was not a particularly good flight, and I had to drop by to see the Wherry. Dunno what she did for me, I left after she tried to 'weed me up and wasn't really in the mood to listen to her lecture me." He paused, and gave an amused snort. B'jin was rarely in the mood for anyone to lecture him though eh often put himself into positions where lectures were required. Of course, being lectured because your dragon had a rough flight? That didn't sit well with the rider. B'jin was surprised Talian hadn't heard about that particular visit. The woman had been crying when he'd left. He wasn't, however, entirely sure he was comfortable telling Talian that. B'jin could be unreasonable when he was proddy, and adding in flight that hadn't gone well for dragon or rider hadn't improved his mood afterwards, never mind the mess he'd made of his back or R'nd's having vanished when he'd half heartedly attempted to find the bluerider after his lunchtime drink out with D'ren. Then he'd had a Harper class while less than sober. That day had been generally fail all over. Then Jada had tried to kill herself.

Definitely not a good day for the greenrider.

Talian frowned again. He did that entirely too much, as evidenced by the ever-increasing frown lines on his otherwise youthful face. He reached over and delicately pulled the paper from B'jin's hands. There, scrawled in his erratic hand, was the word 'emesis'. Talian experienced the faintest brush of amusement. Of course B'jin didn't know that word. Tal smiled ever so sheepishly. "It means 'vomiting'."

He adjusted himself a bit, scooting back further onto his desk. "Jada is going to be fine," he assured B'jin in a soft voice. "Her arm may lose a little bit of it's function, but it's too early to tell. She's going to need a lot of medicine and a lot of therapy..." He trailed off a bit, unable to hide his flash of concern. As far as he knew, Katila lacked a dedicated physical therapist. He had some knowledge of it himself, but he also lacked the time to dedicate to it. Perhaps he would be able to find someone among the masses.

He pushed the thought away for now. "She is really lucky, though. The inside of her arm was dying and I had to cut a bit of it out," he said, making a cutting motion with one hand and remaining completely oblivious to how creepy it was. His brows furrowed in concern. "I hope we can get her full use of it again, but there was some nerve damage from the surgery. I minimized it as much as I could, but she may always be a little numb in that spot."

It was unfortunate, but it happened. He wanted to point out that it all would have been avoided if Jada had taken better care of herself, but much like his own attempted suicide, he knew that Jada herself was well aware of that fact...and so was everyone else involved. No need to rub it in.

The next part made him cringe a bit. His previously bright mood faded away even more as he placed his hands in his lap and wrung them self-consciously. "I haven't seen them at all," he confessed. 'Well, I visited Eri the night of the hatching, after Farlint and Indivara ere stable. His green doesn't like me at all." No surprise there. "And I haven't seen Valerian at all to speak of, just in passing. They're so busy, and I've been so busy..." He didn't voice his greatest concern: that they didn't need him any more.

He hadn't expected to be so miserably lonely after his friends' Impressions. He was trying to hold out some kind of hope that it wasn't permanent, but his pessimistic side wasn't buying it.

He came back into focus when B'jin mentioned his flight. Talian had no desire whatsoever to hear or think about it, but there was a serious issue here. He frowned, outright scowled, and reached for his parchment. "....I'm going to write a prescription for you, B'jin," he said, his words comically stiff and filled with sudden brashness as he scrawled something out. "And see to it that such a thing never happens to you again."

He pouted as he wrote. This would show them!

B'jin accepted the given information about the youthful goldrider with a quiet serenity. Besides the fact that there was little point in getting uptight about the situation now, the greenrider was firm in his belief that Talian could, would and did fix everything. There were no possible better hands for the goldrider to be in and if Talian said she'd only lose some feeling, B'jin could only imagine that without his boy, the girl would probably have ended up armless, or worse!

The news that Talian hadn't seen his friends since their Impression was met with a flat stare, B'jin's brown eyes hardening as he stared up at Talian's uncomfortable face. "Not that busy." B'jin said simply, though there was an unusual force in his voice. "And of course she doesn't." B'jin snorted. "You two were lovers. Dragonets are incredibly possessive for the first turn or so. Besides which, Larrikith likes the little green, so I can only imagine what type of dragon she will shape up to be." His eyebrows crept up his forehead once more, though now his eyes were alive with amusement. Larrikith wasn't all that fussy about whom she did and did not like, but she did have a reputation as an obnoxious little tart, and she rarely took to dragonets with such interest. Which was why he had specifically ordered her to stay away from the Hatchlings. Erisi would undoubtedly have enough trouble with his little green, without Larrikith encouraging it.

"I've changed my mind." B'jin announced suddenly, in the lengthy pause between subjects as Talian sulked to himself. "When we finish here, I am taking you to see your friends - even if I have to carry you! - and then I will go bathe." He gave Talian a look that was half smug, half serious and then flowed into the next topic, dropping that one completely. His mind was made up and Talian would be going to see his friends and their little mind-warts whether he wanted to or not. If he doubted B'jin would carry him, he would be in for a rude surprise! The thought of slinging the dignified young man over his shoulder and marching him across the Weyr was highly amusing, however, and a smile flickered over B'jin's lips.

The greenrider watched the play of emotions on his son's face with slowly arching eyebrows, amusement visible before his eyes widened dramatically with surprise and he stared at Talian, wondering if the boy were slightly mental. "Um, Tal? Larri flies four times a Turn, and I happen to enjoy them for the most part. Besides which, I'm pretty sure the only way you'll stop the little minx is by killing her, and for all my whining, I am rather fond of the pip squeak." Eyebrows suddenly furrowed and he eyed Talian with slight worry. "You're not going to hurt her, are you?" While B'jin couldn't imagine that Talian would actively do anything to hurt him, he was also well aware of the fact that the boy was firmly of the opinion that the world would be and was better without the great beasts. Talian hurting Larrikith wouldn't make B'jin angry; it would break his heart and as he stared at Talian with huge eyes, that was clearly written on his face.

B'jin? Larrikith asked gently, picking up on his distress despite her apparent amusement at whatever she was doing at that moment. Paying less attention to the Hatchlings for a moment, Larrikith strengthened the line of communication with her rider to see what was going on. Brushing over his thoughts, her amusement tripled and she laughed, the sound vibrating in the man's mind. He couldn't hurt me if he tried, Larrikith was as firm in this belief as she ever was. Hurting her would hurt B'jin, and while she had no doubt that Talian probably wished she'd jump between and never come back, she also knew he would never act upon it. Besides, he thinks far too loudly. I'd hear him coming before he even completed the thought. She snorted again, the eyeroll in her voice. Honestly. Could she not leave B'jin alone for even a moment before he was working himself up to dramatics?

He's so melodramatic sometimes. Just ignore him. While that was said for Talian, she in no way left B'jin out of it and the man pouted unhappily. "I am not," he sulked, distinctly childish in his determination to ignore exactly how much he was making true her words. Larrikith's impression of an eyeroll was broadcast before she cut communication off, putting up a neat wall between herself and B'jin, with a snide parting comment about finding her when he was finished with being a baby.

"I take it back. I don't like her at all." His look was flat, his tone a grumble. "Horrible creature." He winked at Talian, the older man's mood shifting as erratically as ever. He really couldn't find it in him to remain in a downer, and he trusted Larrikith (for all that he should probably know better after thir-twenty six turns) and he did know better than to think Talian would hurt his green monster, though hearing it from the boy wouldn't go unappreciated.

---

[sup]He's such a drama queen.[/sup]

Tal looked questioningly at B'jin. He didn't doubt for a moment that B'jin would indeed pick him up and carry him. He also didn't doubt his capacity to panic if that came to pass. Talian hated being manhandled, even more after the unfortunate incident in the spring, and the thought of B'jin doing it smelled like treason. He just frowned, shaking his head slowly as he kept writing.

"They are, though," he argued, unmoving in his conviction. He had no desire to approach Charath again any time soon. Their encounter hadn't been terrible, but Talian figured if he stayed away while she matured a bit more, perhaps he was less likely to be forcibly ejected from their lives like Nemall reportedly had been.

He didn't much care for having her nature pointed out to him, either. It was plainly obvious that Charath was another miserable wherry, just as Tal had come to assume all green dragons were. It didn't bode well for his friendship with Eri. He looked uncomfortable at the mention of Charath, unconscious of his own expression, and just shook his head again. Life was a mess.

He frowned pointedly at the next part. "B'jin? You honestly think I would try to hurt Larrikith?" he asked, tone amazingly dry and expression a blend of aggravation and disbelief. He waved his paper around a bit. "With a quill and a piece of paper? I must be quite well trained in the art of stabbing things with fragile objects," he grumbled.

This was an unfortunate side effect of his time at Katila. As he tried to leave his sulky side behind, it was being replaced with a markedly bitter one. He was still Talian though, so his words were lacking in force. It was still probably the first sarcastic quip B'jin would have ever heard from the boy. Talian reached irritably for the mug of klah on the table and took an uncomfortably long drink. So amazing!

Tal managed to suppress a shudder as Larrikith spoke to him. He was too resigned to her invasions to think ugly thoughts at her anymore, so he just accepted it, letting her walk all over him like everyone else in that cursed place did. At least she wasn't saying anything terrible this time. It even seemed to have an indirect calming effect on the boy; he really did have a hard time telling when B'jin was being serious sometimes.


He finally finished his note, tearing it away and handing it to B'jin. "There you are. It's a note from me saying you have a particularly interesting medical history and require my personal attention. They won't ask about your condition though, I promise...patient confidentiality."

A sweet smile replaced his previously harsh expression. He suddenly felt very tired. "That way, you won't get turned away anymore." Maybe they wouldn't have to go without seeing each other for so long again.

Tal smiled, though the ghost of discomfort still lingered on his face, and turned to a nearby counter to retrieve some medical tools. "So, we need to get those stitches out, right?" he asked, tone lightening a bit. He was optimistic about the outcome, though whether or not scars remained might depend on how badly the flight (and the other healer0 had screwed things up.

B'jin let the subject of Talian and his friends drop, though his conviction and stubborn resolve to take the boy to see the weyrlings was in no way dampened. The little healer was far too cut off as it was, without furthering his own self inflicted banishment by avoiding his friends and drowning himself in work. Yes, what he did was important, but B'jin wasn't going to buy that he was too busy to see them. He was a Master! All he had to do was dump it on the Journeymen and women that were panting around his ankles and take the day off.

"I would hope not," B'jin replied mildly, letting Talian's attitude slide off him without issue. He raised an eyebrow at the boy's words none the less, and his lips pursed for a moment. "Dragons are amazingly easy to kill..." He smirked, "But Larri is well trained in stab wounds. She tends to eat the quill." When the green horror got snarky about his art work, B'jin had a tendency to stab her. He had gone through quite a few quills, particularly in their early turns together.

"Brilliant!" B'jin said happily, taking the parchment with eager fingers and reading it quickly. Making sure the ink was dry, B'jin folded it carefully and slipped it into his pant pocket, grinning at Talian. He assumed Talian would be informing the other staff to back off as far as B'jin was concerned, but he'd keep the sheet of parchment with him at any rate. It was reassuring, and particularly sweet of the boy. B'jin couldn't recall what it was he'd been thinking (or apparently not thinking) when he blurted out his allergy to the young man, but he was very pleased he had done so. The idea of having had numbweed slathered on his traumatised back was not appealing, and besides Talian, B'jin was almost positive the only person who knew of his condition was S'kef. Also not at all reassuring.

"Apparently," B'jin chirped, particularly happy about that. He was incredibly tired of being restricted in his bathing habits, all else aside and irrelevant in comparison. He'd never realised how much he took his baths for granted! Wriggling out of his shirt, B'jin folded it carefully and placed it on his lap. He raised his gaze to meet Talian's, voice dry when he spoke. "Bad flight," he repeated, to explain the dark fingerprint bruising amongst other trinkets he'd received. He didn't offer any further explanation for the young healer, fairly sure the kid didn't want to know. "Where do you want me?" B'jin asked placidly, figuring Talian probably didn't want him still seated in his chair.

[sup]PP away my dear. Move him, and play with his wounds. Balls in your court :}[/sup]

Talian was pretty oblivious to how he'd all but taken over the healer hall. He didn't seem to recognize the others' pandering as pandering. Granted, it was nice to have no Masterhealer to worry about, and he certainly appreciated his father's absence. That didn't mean his status registered like it probably should have, though. Tal wasn't necessarily ambitious. For example, in a fit of humility that enraged his father, Talian had never expressed any interest in becoming Masterhealer. Being the boss wasn't nearly as important to him as being independent was, and with his tunnel vision secured firmly on that, he just didn't realize how much he could have probably gotten away with.

Or was he still scared to see himself replaced by those ugly dragonets? Yeah, that too probably.

B'jin's acceptance of the letter brought a smile to the boy's face. "And if they ever give you trouble again, tell me..if you can't GET to me, have Larrikith tell me I guess," he said in a muted but very sincere tone. He pulled some gloves on and picked out his favorite pair of scissors. "Well, normally we would do this in a regular infirmary room with a table...but since there isn't one in here, you can just sit on my desk."

He waited patiently for B'jin to move before swooping in. He ran his fingers along the edges of the first stitch, taking a couple moments to analyze the repair work. "Whoever did this has them a bit...crooked," he commented as he examined the perfectly functional suture. The boy had high standards. He smiled a little and clipped the first stitch.

Snip!
Snip!
Snip!

Sinew was difficult to cut, but these were his favorite scissors for a reason. He made short work of the stitches, easily snipping and removing all of them within a few minutes. A couple snagged and had to be tugged a bit, but Tal at least knew how to jerk them how fast and firmly to minimize the discomfort. Soon, a pile of crusty sinew rested on his desk and B'jin's back was free of sutures.

The wounds had healed nicely, despite a couple of them being burst during the flight. Talian paused for a moment and, remembering B'jin's vanity, moved to his personal stash of drugs hidden in his desk drawer.

Tansy and Thymus were not included among them.

"Here, I have something else for you," he said as he removed a small bottle of oil. He put some on his hands and began rubbing it into B'jin's back. Tal, who housed an encyclopedic knowledge of muscle and nerve arrangements, was quite skilled in that department. His fingers worked deftly into B'jin's flesh, both massaging the previously abused flesh and working the oil into the man's skin. "This is Hissop oil. It'll help reduce the scarring. It looks like they'll be modest scars anyhow, but if you apply this once a day, it'll reduce it even more," he said.

He capped the bottle and put it away before peeling his gloves off. "However, it's dangerous if misused, so you're going to have to come and see me for it," he said coyly. Hah! Let the idiots down the hall say no to that!

He discarded the gloves and stitches before leaning on his desk and smiling at B'jin. "You're done," he said, his tone indicating that he was in no hurry at all for B'jin to leave. He wasn't in any hurry to go back to work, either.

"Will do!" B'jin chirped happily, tossing Talian a small grin as he stood up and shuffled around to sit on the desk, hands folded lightly in his lap and eyes gazing unfocused at his knees. B'jin gave a snort of amusement at Talian's comment about the repair work. "Probably 'cause I was wriggling," B'jin said lightly, highly amused.

His features took on an uncomfortable frown as Talian worked his way through his appointed task. He didn't say anything, however, and sat quietly. B'jin was prone to bitching about the tiniest discomfort while he'd valiantly play the white knight after something like his lashing, but Talian wasn't the type to appreciate a good ribbing about his work, and so the greenrider refrained - this time.

"Oh?" B'jin asked curiously, when he felt Talian move away from behind him. His back was tingling uncomfortably, and B'jin rolled his shoulders a couple of times, rejoicing privately at the lack of imbedded foreign objects. The muscles felt tight and unhappy and, "Ooh!" the greenrider purred appreciatively, practically melting under Talian's deft touch as the young man worked the oil in. He pouted playfully as Talian recapped the bottle and stepped away, before smirking widely. "Can do!"

When Talian pronounced him done, B'jin bounced off the desk and picked up his neatly folded shirt, giving it a flick to flare it out, he went to put it on before deciding not to; he didn't really want residue from Talian's little pot of oil on his nice shirt. R'nd's clothing was for ruining, not his own. Amused by that thought, B'jin hooked an ankle around a spare chair and dragged it over to join Talian's. He then sat in Talian's (eyes widening innocently) and brushed his shirt flat over his knees.

"I spoke with D'ren," he said softly, jumping right into the topic he had promised the boy. "I'll be going North in the next couple of months, to check on your family. But you must keep it to yourself; D'ren is worried about favourtism." B'jin was rather proud of himself as he warped the truth into something new and said it without faltering at all. He didn't think Talian would tell anyone at any rate, but B'jin wasn't about to tell the boy he didn't have permission any more than he would break his promise to go. D'ren had given him loop holes and B'jin would slip through them. The greenrider's eyes searched Talian's, waiting to see how that would be received before he gave the next piece of information.

Tal frowned indignantly. That was his chair. Or it had been. It was a small price to pay for B'jin's company, though.

He seated himself in the newly added chair and laced his fingers in his lap, watching B'jin with his usual wide-eyed interest. "Going...north?" he asked. His face was immediately but almost invisibly shadowed with all kinds of emotion. A lump formed in his throat. It still bothered him, how easily the dragonriders could just pop North and yet still know he couldn't go home. It hurt to think it was so easy, yet so impossible. But the prospect of knowing, once and for all, what sort of mess had been left in his wake?

Well, he certainly knew it was a privilege. He doubted many of the others got such an honor. Most of them had to endure the same crushing uncertainty that Talian had come to live with, the painful lack of closure and the constant wondering. Tal thought about his family with less and less frequency, but that didn't make the pain any less.

He finally swallowed the lump and closed his eyes sagely, trying to hold his head high and maintain at least some of his composure. He'd made it his mission in life to at least look all right, especially around B'jin. Talian had really put B'jin through a horror that night. He shouldn't have to see Talian failing at recovery.

It wasn't exactly an act, either. Tal was recovering in bits and pieces, though it was unlikely he'd ever reach his previous pinnacle. The suicide attempt had just as much broken him as it had saved his life. He'd accepted an unpleasant fate and was trying to drag himself through it rather than cling stubbornly to his past. Which was worse in the long run?

He swallowed hard. "I'm glad," he said, refusing to open his eyes for fear that he'd cry. He was done crying over this, he reminded himself delicately. He maintained his composure well enough, though his rigid nervousness was visible. "It...it'll make me feel better to know. So I won't have to wonder anymore...thank you." His voice shook just a little bit.

"I can't promise you'll like anything I bring back," B'jin said gently, watching Talian's face with quiet caution. He could see how close to the edge Talian was over this small piece he had given him. What would happen when he brought back actual news? How would the boy he had taken on as his own react? What if the information B'jin gathered was disagreeable to the young man's peace of mind? Was not something he should know? The greenrider's features shifted into a worried from, wondering if he were doing the right thing or if, perhaps, D'ren really was making sure the youngsters within his Weyr were getting what was best. B'jin wasn't sure, and although he had no one he particularly cared for left up North, he had gone out of his way to find out what he could about who remained. It had hurt, but it had helped. He believed the same was likely to be true for Talian... he just wasn't sure how much more hurting his boy could take.

B'jin knew the young Healer wasn't as well as he was playing at being. He could see it in the subtle downturn of his lips, and the furrowing lines growing in visibility on his forehead. Talian was constantly unhappy, as far as B'jin was concerned, and he didn't know how to change that. He visited when he could, but between their differing duties, the wherry at the front desk, and B'jin's general aversion to the Healer Hall (too much numbweed floating around. Far too much.) he simply hadn't seen as much of the honorary Master since the Hatching as he would have liked. The greenrider had a feeling Talian wasn't helping the issue by hiding away and burying himself in work. There was a lot going on in that over active mind of his, and B'jin couldn't begin to piece together what to do about it.

"Don't thank me." B'jin said seriously, his frown darkening with discontent as he lowered his gaze from Talian's rigid expression to his own knees. He was the one responsible for the setting Talian now found himself in, and while B'jin wasn't above lapping up high opinions or gratitude, he wouldn't take it from someone who wouldn't need to thank him, if he hadn't caused their misery in the first place. The man's lips pursed and his gaze flicked up to peer at Talian, unintentionally capturing the young man's eyes when he saw them open. B'jin shrunk in on himself a little before speaking again. "The Weyrleader," for in this case, it was certainly the Weyrleader that had made the decision, not D'ren, "has decided you're unfit for Candidacy." B'jin paused, and his gaze turned desperate, searching Talian's face for anything that would tell him how the news was being taken.

"Tal... I'm so sorry!" B'jin's voice was a desperate plea, brown eyes afraid even as he curled up more, taking the opportunity to shove his shirt back on, no longer caring if he got oil stains on it from the liquid Talian had used on the new skin and lines of vague scarring that was scattered across his back. Anything to avoid looking at the young man he'd just told had been snatching from the life he had known, even if he hadn't loved it, for nothing. No, Talian didn't want a dragon - most of them didn't - but at least he had been stolen for a reason before. Now he had been stolen for... what? B'jin peered up timidly at Talian from under his lashes, eyebrows knit together in frustration and unhappiness. If he could drop him North again, B'jin knew he'd do it in a moment, and that was the light that lit his anxious brown eyes.

Tal paused. His face shrank into a slight, thoughtful frown. "I'm not expecting to like what  I hear, B'jin," he said. He carefully slid his chair closer and sat down, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands in his lap neatly and precisely. He leaned forward slightly, eyes widening in a pleading gesture.

"B'jin...I think about them every day. It's almost all  I can think about, unless I'm working or my friends are close by. I just...there are so many scenarios. So many possibilities.  I know I'll sleep better once I know," he said, brows furrowing to emphasize his desperate appeal. "I've been expecting the worst, though...I mean, my whole life was a recipe for disaster. Fiora was probably pregnant, I had a terrible relationship with my dad, I'd just received a promotion that made everyone jealous..."

He shook his head. "I must have left a mess. I just...don't want to sit and stew on it anymore," he said, exhaling hard as if he'd just run a mile.

The next part took a moment to sink in. His face remained uncharacteristically emotionless as he listened and watched, studying B'jin's face and trying to place the expressions. Guilt and uncertainty. "Unfit, huh?" he asked. He leaned forward and set one thin hand down on B'jin's. His hands were cool to the touch.

"That's okay," he said placidly, too deep in thought to provide much of a verbal response yet. He sighed a little bit as a series of emotions rippled across his face: confusion, relief, epiphany, sadness...and finally something resembling peace. "It...sucks. I wish this whole thing had never happened, but it's not like I can go home now," he said slowly. Tal had long given up hope of ever seeing the North again. The riders talked like it was an eventual goal, but they'd been sitting on their asses for fifteen turns...when were they going to get around to it? Never, probably.

"I...I dunno. I just..." he paused and bit his lip, trying to think of a delicate way to explain himself.  He looked so small and meek, nervous that any given word might upset the man he'd come to regard as his protector and greatest friend, who looked so scared that his fragile ward may shatter like glass. "....My career is all I really have left of my old self, B'jin," Tal said at length. He'd always identified himself in very impersonal ways; places and things, especially. Talian had his chair, his blanket, his knife, his career....his everything. Going so long without friends and without meaningful connections, it was all he really knew.

"I just feel like...Impressing a dragon would be the last thing, you know? I'll have lost everything at that point....since as a Weyrling and Dragonrider, I'd be too busy to be a healer anymore," he explained. He was being thoughtful and studious again, all emotion lost from his voice. "I also feel like..."

He bit his lip harder, almost hard enough to bleed.

"I don't have any loyalty to this place, B'jin. To me, it's just a prison. And Impressing a dragon would just...tie me to it. Forever. More than I already am."

He frowned as he snapped out of his near-trance. He realized his eyes were watering. He laughed weakly and wiped them. "I don't mean to be negative, it's just how I feel. I...I've had people tell me who I was going to be my whole life. I'm just really tired of it..."

He swallowed hard and squeezed B'jin's hand. "So it's okay. I'd rather not...I'll be fine just how I am. I promise. Impressing a dragon wouldn't make any of this better or worth it for me." Well, he said that. Everyone talked like a dragonbond was the most amazing thing in the world, but Talian doubted it. He would believe it when he saw proof. But he didn't actually say that, out of respect for B'jin, who loved his dragon so.

The healer frowned again as he watched B'jin wrestled his shirt on. The apology sounded so sad and poignant. Talian smiled a little bit and stood up, ambushing B'jin with a hug as he poked his head out of his shirt.

"It's okay. I don't hold any of it against you," he said softly. He sounded oddly at peace, though his words were as tainted by genuine resignation as always. He understood and accepted his position as a permanent resident, and while he wasn't happy about it, he couldn't stand to see the single most positive thing about his new life feeling so guilty.

"Don't worry about me, okay? It...happened. We can't change it, so...." he trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. The boy wasn't eloquent. He ended his heartfelt speech with an awkward little laugh before burying his face in B'jin's shoulder, trying to hide the fact that his eyes were watering again and out of embarrassment that he'd become so lost for words.

B'jin's face was a picture of mixing emotions as he sat quietly, watching Talian after he had finished speaking. The hug the boy had launched on him had been rewarded with a squeak of surprise, and a soft chuckle as B'jin returned it. He held him gently, the embrace almost loose as B'jin - who had been exceptionally quiet for the duration of Talian's speech, mulled over the words he had been given, and the emotions that had fed them.

The greenrider wasn't sure what to make of his young son, who seemed to be so sturdy and secure in who he was, and yet so delicately crafted that a simple smile could send him toppling over the edge to crash and burn like an autumn leaf in a fire. Gentle fingers brushed over Talian's back in soothing circles, the dragonman not unconscious of the fact that Talian was crying, or at least trying not to, by the dampness that had been fed to one small portion of his shirts' shoulder. It wasn't growing, and the young man wasn't trembling, so B'jin assumed he was less crying, and more overwhelmed.

Understandable.

With no idea what he would find upon travelling north, or even if he would be able to get close enough to get a real idea of the situation that remained there, B'jin had nothing to offer Talian in regards to his family and friends at the moment. He would find out what he could, he would do it before D'ren realised he'd done something he'd been ordered not to, and he'd hope that whatever was brought back would be good news for Talian - whether B'jin himself felt that were so or not. Sighing softly, B'jin let his hands trail across Talian's sides to grip him gently by the arm just above his elbows, and indicated with subtle pressure he wanted the young man to look at him.

"How can I not worry about you?" B'jin asked gently, releasing one of Talian's arms to use his left hand to gently tilt the boy's face, an eyebrow arching up in question and a bitter-sweet smile twisting his lips. B'jin was not unaware of the irony of their situation, and all it insinuated. An order to 'fix' the boy had resulted in a much deeper relationship between the pair, even if Talian had fought him every step of the way - in the beginning. B'jin couldn't really recall when the young Healer had been swayed, though he expected it had happened somewhere around his suicide attempt. Maybe a little before, but definitely after. Releasing Talian's chin, B'jin dropped his hand into his lap.

"I can't promise you won't Impress," B'jin said gently, after another lengthy silence. His voice was soft, gentle and he looked up at Talian with quiet insistence. After all, he had had no desire to Impress a firelizard, never mind a dragon! "But I'll do what I can to help you avoid it, if that is what you want." He wasn't sure how D'ren would take the news that Talian was pleased to be removed permanently from Candidacy. Well, for now maybe, but B'jin was sure there would be a backlash somewhere; particularly if it got out that Larrikith had chosen badly on one of her Searchees. Never mind a bronze and gold. She'd failed where in their arrogance had informed anyone that would listen that Larrikith was the best Green Searcher, and one of the better over all. But that was their issue, not Talian's.

Talian rested comfortably against B'jin for a few long seconds. He enjoyed B'jin's touch, just as he enjoyed the friendly touch of almost anyone. It was so rare throughout the boy's life and it made him feel so safe and wanted, a feeling he'd grown increasingly attached to and perhaps even dependent on. He didn't ever want to let go, for in those moments he felt safe and accepted. He wanted and needed those feelings so badly. He was lost and almost alone in a strange world, a diffuclt situation to live in after spending such a long time lost and alone in a familiar world. What would he do without B'jin and the two weyrlings, other than drown?

"I'm glad you worry about me," Tal said, ignoring the tremor in his voice. Was he really on the verge of tears again? Why did so many of his conversations go down this unwanted path? Tal wanted to scold himself for being too emotional, but in light of everything, it seemed almost fitting. The healer just smiled and leaned forward, wrapping his arms tightly around the greenrider and squeezing one more time.

"Thank you," he added at length. He wiped his eyes, refusing to allow himself to full-on cry. "I just...Well, I guess I don't really need to explain." His tone hinted at modesty, that he didn't want to complain anymore. In reality, it had more to do with preserving B'jin's feelings. Tal still hated dragons and found them hideously ugly, but no good would come from saying that to B'jin's face, especially when the greenrider already knew the boy's stance well enough. No need to rub it in. Talian just laughed again, nervous and embarrassed. Ultimatly, though, he also looked relieved.

"The idea of Impressing a dragon and sharing my head with someone forever is terrifying to me," he finally admitted, almost daintily. "And being stuck here forever, and not getting to be a healer anymore...I don't think I could take it. Maybe your leader will have mercy on me and let me avoid the hatchlings from now on..." he said with a touch of hopeful humor.

Your leader. Not mine. Otherwise, he seemed oddly alive and happy.

"Oh, Talian," B'jin sighed softly, his words tempted by amusement and love. "How could I not?" His question was genuine, but rhetorical. He wasn't interested in hearing Talian list all the reasons he shouldn't be cared for (something B'jin was uncomfortably aware the young man would be quite capable of doing.) because even if he had wanted to know how truly messed up Talian were from the past events in his life, B'jin didn't want to hear it, or have Talian think he needed to. He loved the young man, and he wanted to protect him. He didn't need to hear all the things he'd been unable to prevent in the past because he hadn't been there or known, any more than he wanted to be the cause of future pain for Talian. If not Impressing a dragon was what would truly bring the young man happiness in the uncomfortable situation he had ended up in, than B'jin would do the best he could to make sure it never happened.

Talian's excusing himself from complaining was met with a very mild look of relief, but despite it, B'jin leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on the young man's forehead, his hands rising to gently hold Talian's face still as he met the healer's eyes seriously. "You don't," he confirmed, voice oddly low and serious. "But you are welcome to, when you need to." Dropping his hands lightly from Talian's face, B'jin folded them in his lap, smiling gently. He didn't like it when Talian got upset, or when he complained, ranted or raved - but he knew it was healthier for the boy to do that, than bottle it all up inside and pretend like it didn't matter, or wasn't important, or that no one would care. All things B'jin was not quite aware he himself did. But, he was a parent, and even if he had been aware of his simple hypocrisy there, B'jin would have shrugged it off. The rules never quite apply in the same way for a parent as they do their child, and he claimed Talian as his own.

"Well, D'ren doesn't want you Impressing." B'jin said gently. The use of the man's name was subtle but purposeful. while he might have been responsible for the hardships undergone by the young Journeymen and women, D'ren was still human. He still felt the guilt, the pain and the happiness that each of them felt, and perhaps more so than many others within the Weyr. B'jin didn't agree with a lot of the decisions D'ren and Tsuen made, had even actively objected when he could, but he knew D'ren was doing as he thought was best, as was Tsuen. He didn't understand the reasoning, but then, as S'kef so kindly liked to remind him, B'jin was just a lowly greenrider. He didn't need to understand anything, except how to do as he's told. Talian was far better off not Impressing. Especially if he had the misfortune to end up with a green.

Leaning forward, B'jin visibly shook off the subject and the less than pleasant thoughts and emotions that came with it, and tapped Talian gently on the nose with a finger. He was grinning cheerfully, the expression fed with a river of teasing mischief. "What do you have in store today, my boy?" It was time for something less inclined to be dreary, and while B'jin didn't exactly find Talian's working life riveting, at least it wasn't depressing... usually. And he knew his responses tended to amuse the boy. Maybe he could get a genuine smile out of him yet!

Tal almost flinched from the finger reaching out to tap his nose. The young healer had developed quite a touchy, almost clingy side, but he very much preferred to initiate contact. B'jin was exempt from the rules, but the sudden gesture still startled the boy. He let out a weak laugh at his own expense and leaned close, as if to make up for his little jump.

"You're too good to me, B'jin. And I'm glad for all that."  He didn't need to go on about how Impression was the worst thing ever. He fully planned on tossing rocks at any approaching dragonets if he found himself stranded on the sands. He didn't think B'jin would appreciate that image, unless of course he found it humorous.

"I wish I could say I had something interesting," Tal said, content the let the issue slip away. It meant a lot to him that B'jin was just willing to indulge his little speeches. It always made Tal feel so much better just to think that someone had listened and cared. It was the best he could do when he was functionally helpless. Nothing he said or did actually mattered or could actually bring about any change. B'jin made him feel like he mattered, though.

In that moment, Tal locked eyes with the greenrider and offered his sweetest smile. He was curious, though. B'jin was so protective and paternal. Patient, gentle...and so very against Tal bottling up his problems, as he was want to do. Tal couldn't help but think about those few times he saw glimpses of B'jin's problems, though. How much did B'jin bottle up? Tal often wondered about it, for the more he watched, the more he felt there was a lot hidden beneath the surface. Perhaps the best evidence came from moments like this, where B'jin tried so hard to protect those he cared for from harm. There was a desperation about him.

B'jin gave him so much. Tal wished he knew what he could give back.

"...I actually probably need to get back to work," Tal said softly. "You're welcome to stay with me, but I cant promise it will be interesting.  I've been going over files mostly, so you don't even get to see any blood and guts." He spoke in a deadly serious tone, but his eyes contained a gleam of the sort of tasteless, morbid humor he sometimes trended towards. He laughed. It wasn't a real smile, but it was getting there.

Never having been particularly well renown for his skills in observation, B'jin missed the little twitch that was Talian's small reaction to his nose tapping. Not because B'jin didn't care - not at all! He would be horrified if he'd realised anything he did spooked the healer he called his own - but because B'jin was just plain oblivious more often than not. As a result, he blinked slightly in surprise at Talian's small laugh and instead snorted mildly at Talian's simple statements. The first required no answer, or at least, none that would take their conversation in a direction either were willing to go. The simplest fact, of course, was that B'jin wouldn't need to be good to Talian, if he hadn't been so horrid to him in the first place and stolen him away from his home life.

Instead, however, B'jin tossed Talian a wink as the boy claimed to have nothing of interest to say. It was a collection of words B'jin found to be far from truth, for he was content to listen to Talian babble about pretty much anything, for as long as the young man wanted. He had a pleasant voice, was intelligent, and the things he said were often unintentionally humorous. B'jin enjoyed listening to Talian talk, be it about himself (a rarity) or his craft (which tended to make B'jin feel ill or bored, more often or not) but none the less! It was, at least, far more relaxing that when he caught sight of the boy's handwriting...

"You work too much," B'jin teased, features twisted into gentle amusement as he settled back in the seat and made himself comfortable, grinning impishly and well aware that Talian probably wanted (needed?) his seat back. B'jin was a - what was it S'kef called him? An insolent layabout? Something like that, anyway. Working was no fun and fun was what life was all about, after all. Of course, the best fun came in trouble making, but B'jin was out of practice in regards to that, and he didn't think Talian would go for anything that could possibly be related to causing trouble.

That was okay though, B'jin would think of some way to get his boy out of his shell and have some fun. Maybe he'd steal him away for the day or something. He'd kidnapped him once, so doing so again could hardly prove worse than the first time around. of course, he'd have to get the healer on Larrikith, and that would be as difficult (or perhaps more so) than the first time... B'jin's features took on a slightly far away expression as he pondered how best to sweep Talian out of the office another day.

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[sup]Haha, explanation of why he stole Talian in a month's time? Check :P[/sup]