Teddy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tedandroses) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
abraxaslogs2024-10-27 05:22 pm
tedandroses) wrote in abraxaslogs2024-10-27 05:22 pm
Entry tags:
[open] we're only flying for a while
Who:Teddy
When:backdated to Oct 7th, the day after the mingle
Where: in town, Primary Settlement, Solvunn
What: Teddy's epilepsy finally catches up to her; give her a hand please?
Warnings: Um, seizure! The tonic-clonic isn't described in detail (though you are welcome to describe a character seeing it); the aftermath will be.
It’s on the way to pick up more of their tea -- Solvunn's tea, a remarkably decent replacement for their medication blended up and ritually blessed particularly for them -- that it happens. Later Teddy will think, indignantly, that’s just a little bit of insult to injury, there. (The truth is, there are very few ways to have a seizure — in public, at least — that don’t add insult to injury. It’s not exactly the most dignified of conditions.)
In the first moments, though, she’s not thinking about any of that: she’s trying mostly to figure out if she feels nauseous in a way that would be helped by food, or would be sick. It is late in the morning to not have eaten.
It’s pretty far into the morning, in general. Teddy had gotten home late from the welcome mingle for new Summoned at the Inn, and hadn’t slept easily. It had been good, seeing friends and greeting new faces. Albeit, a little melancholy with Ed gone and confirming some disappearances Teddy was hoping they were wrong about. They’d squared up to the challenge of a party in the circumstances, though: drunk and sung all the more heartily to honor those who would have if they weren't gone.
It’s not a hangover, though. Teddy’s had hangovers; she doesn't get them often, more out of a reasonable instinct for pacing and a dislike for sweet drinks than any sort of genetic blessing, but she didn't always have that self-control. This isn't that: there's no real headache, though everything does feel a little bright, the ambient sounds a little loud. The nausea's abrupt, though, a jolt of discomfort that comes with a sudden wave of -- it's like the sea's come and washed her out of her own head and left her scrabbling: more than that, it's like she dreamed it and then it happened --
Aw, fuck. It clicks, irritatingly. These little seizures happen reasonably frequently; the tea doesn't stop them any more than their own medicine did; interestingly enough -- especially considering the weird shit that happens here -- they seem to be slightly less common in Abraxas. It'll go away. Or it won't. That's the worst part, really; just having to wait and see. Teddy glances around, looking for someone to tell or somewhere to sit while it passes. They can tell a few people have noticed their pause, but it's hard to figure out who they're looking at.
Teddy takes a deep breath, trying to calm the rising fear in her stomach, but it just feels like it inflates her whole body, like now she's rising, filled like a balloon, a helium balloon, like a giant blimp Teddy floating away from Solvunn. She giggles a little, and she's vaguely aware that it won't make sense to anyone else, but she can't explain it, and even if she could she couldn't. And she's rising, rising and it was silly to be afraid, there are so many things people worry about in their bodies but up here you can see everything fits together and it's all right, there are so many colors and they're all music, and it's going to be okay.
Someone's talking to her. Except it's not words, it's like words that have gone through a vocoder, split apart and shivered into those colors, into a choir, and it's important that she know what they mean. They jerk their head toward the sound, trying to find the voice, trying to listen to what they're supposed to hear.
When she opens her eyes, Teddy's somewhere else. Someone's talking to her, and she knows she should understand, but she doesn't. And then she does.
Note: I ended up trying so hard not to make seizures a main part of Teddy's characterization that they basically became not one at all; both the previous event and the current one touch on things that Teddy experiences that make it even more difficult to tell what's going on, so it seemed like a good time to post this.
Teddy's got a Temporal Lobe Epilepsy primer on their journal:
DO feel welcome to describe the seizure third-person and don't feel afraid of offending if it's not 100% accurate, every seizure is different!
Okay, now I shush!]
When:backdated to Oct 7th, the day after the mingle
Where: in town, Primary Settlement, Solvunn
What: Teddy's epilepsy finally catches up to her; give her a hand please?
Warnings: Um, seizure! The tonic-clonic isn't described in detail (though you are welcome to describe a character seeing it); the aftermath will be.
It’s on the way to pick up more of their tea -- Solvunn's tea, a remarkably decent replacement for their medication blended up and ritually blessed particularly for them -- that it happens. Later Teddy will think, indignantly, that’s just a little bit of insult to injury, there. (The truth is, there are very few ways to have a seizure — in public, at least — that don’t add insult to injury. It’s not exactly the most dignified of conditions.)
In the first moments, though, she’s not thinking about any of that: she’s trying mostly to figure out if she feels nauseous in a way that would be helped by food, or would be sick. It is late in the morning to not have eaten.
It’s pretty far into the morning, in general. Teddy had gotten home late from the welcome mingle for new Summoned at the Inn, and hadn’t slept easily. It had been good, seeing friends and greeting new faces. Albeit, a little melancholy with Ed gone and confirming some disappearances Teddy was hoping they were wrong about. They’d squared up to the challenge of a party in the circumstances, though: drunk and sung all the more heartily to honor those who would have if they weren't gone.
It’s not a hangover, though. Teddy’s had hangovers; she doesn't get them often, more out of a reasonable instinct for pacing and a dislike for sweet drinks than any sort of genetic blessing, but she didn't always have that self-control. This isn't that: there's no real headache, though everything does feel a little bright, the ambient sounds a little loud. The nausea's abrupt, though, a jolt of discomfort that comes with a sudden wave of -- it's like the sea's come and washed her out of her own head and left her scrabbling: more than that, it's like she dreamed it and then it happened --
Aw, fuck. It clicks, irritatingly. These little seizures happen reasonably frequently; the tea doesn't stop them any more than their own medicine did; interestingly enough -- especially considering the weird shit that happens here -- they seem to be slightly less common in Abraxas. It'll go away. Or it won't. That's the worst part, really; just having to wait and see. Teddy glances around, looking for someone to tell or somewhere to sit while it passes. They can tell a few people have noticed their pause, but it's hard to figure out who they're looking at.
Teddy takes a deep breath, trying to calm the rising fear in her stomach, but it just feels like it inflates her whole body, like now she's rising, filled like a balloon, a helium balloon, like a giant blimp Teddy floating away from Solvunn. She giggles a little, and she's vaguely aware that it won't make sense to anyone else, but she can't explain it, and even if she could she couldn't. And she's rising, rising and it was silly to be afraid, there are so many things people worry about in their bodies but up here you can see everything fits together and it's all right, there are so many colors and they're all music, and it's going to be okay.
Someone's talking to her. Except it's not words, it's like words that have gone through a vocoder, split apart and shivered into those colors, into a choir, and it's important that she know what they mean. They jerk their head toward the sound, trying to find the voice, trying to listen to what they're supposed to hear.
When she opens her eyes, Teddy's somewhere else. Someone's talking to her, and she knows she should understand, but she doesn't. And then she does.
Note: I ended up trying so hard not to make seizures a main part of Teddy's characterization that they basically became not one at all; both the previous event and the current one touch on things that Teddy experiences that make it even more difficult to tell what's going on, so it seemed like a good time to post this.
Teddy's got a Temporal Lobe Epilepsy primer on their journal:
- The text describes a focal aware (and very beginning of a focal impaired awareness) seizure
- She wakes up after having had a tonic clonic
- In the last sentence he's in the post-ictal phase described here, a little past the first few paragraphs hitting the one starting "Lucidity returns".
- There's also first-aid advice etc on that page if you think your character would know it.
DO feel welcome to describe the seizure third-person and don't feel afraid of offending if it's not 100% accurate, every seizure is different!
Okay, now I shush!]
Seizure Alert Angel at your service
He closed his eyes, wishing he had more practice with this and grudgingly feeling grateful that Crane had him practice his breathing and running him through different exercises because it was helping. Teddy? Teddy. It was coming from Teddy. Nausea, then fear and then.....weirdness. Chris paused, trying to swallow down his own fear because it was freaking him out too and he was starting to mildly hyperventilate. Primary Settlement, Teddy wasn't far. Orbing to their location, Chris put a hand on Teddy's shoulder.
"What's going on? You don't feel right. Teddy? Teddy."
Tw for description of focal unaware and tonic clonic seizures
A very odd expression — not quite fear, not quite awareness, a little of both, like they’re hearing something no one else can - flickers over their face moments before their entire body goes rigid. There’s no way to describe it; it doesn’t look like a human movement as much as possession on TV: a sort of keen of a cry, wheezed and groaned, escapes Teddy’s lips through snapped-shut teeth. Their eyes roll upwards, their limbs all tense, sending them tumbling backwards.
Within moments, they’re jerking, erratic and everywhere, intense and impossible to still. Their eyes have relaxed back to their usual position, but they stare at nothing: limbs curl and relax spasmodically and symmetrically, risking knocking into anything nearby. Blood-ticked foam gathers at their lips as their jaw and esophagus clenches and relaxes, bitten tongue bloody and spit unable to be swallowed.
Her nails and lips are tinged purple-grey, her breathing a gurgling rasp. Even if Chris has seen convulsions, and especially if he hasn’t, the overtone of she’s dying in front of you is somewhat inescapable.
And then, it slows. The limbs flail less, then stop; the back stops arching, the eyelids blink and close. Teddy lays still, swallows, reaches uncoordinatedly to try and wipe their mouth (it’s more of a pat, really). They very sleepily sigh and blink their eyes open, looking around slowly and up confusedly at Chris.
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And then Teddy's entire body goes rigid, Chris reaches out quickly to grab them with his hands or his powers and guide Teddy toward the ground in a more controlled manner. Chris' thoughts race wildly, kicking himself that Teddy got the one whitelighter in existence that can't heal and he doesn't know what's wrong. He can't tell what's wrong, and that? That's on him.
Brushing aside all the thoughts of self hatred and recrimination, Chris tried to go through the options, what little he knew of them. Did Teddy take something? Did someone poison them? Hanging out around P3 he knew enough to keep Teddy on their side, but he is absolutely not prepared for the color their lips and nails turn.
Now would be a really good time to have a breakthrough. He held his hands out and ...nothing happened. And then, Teddy's convulsions slowed. And so thankfully did Chris' breathing, considering the hyperventilating he was doing. Wiping his own eyes, he reached out to wipe Teddy's mouth for them.
"Holy shit." It seemed stupid to ask if they were alright.
no subject
They kind of smack ineffectually at his hand, and blink, looking around; still looking very unfocused and uncoordinated.
When he says holy shit, though, Teddy turns to look at him, eyes wide and face deeply concerned, almost childlike in the lack of understanding there but clearly picking up on his fear.
“Wha-appen?” It’s slurred, pronounced by a swollen tongue and tired muscles.
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"That's a really good question! What happened?"
He held up his hand again, trying pathetically to heal the swollen tongue, and completely failing. "....You know what? Fuck this. I'm picking you up. You are not lying on the ground instead of an actual bed." Chris really wasn't planning on giving Teddy a choice in this, if they were even in any condition to actually protest.
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They frown when he holds his hand out. Whatever it’s for, it’s making their tongue tingly and not much else.
“No.” Teddy tries again to get up: she makes it to sitting, at least. “It’s not bedtime. Why am I on the floor?”
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"You fell. I caught you so you didn't crack your head open. You're welcome. And I think it definitely is bedtime. People who suddenly thrash like their in the exorcist get put to bed early." While their whitelighter tries to figure out what the hell just happened.
"Does anything hurt?" Chris figured probably a lot hurt because whatever happened to Teddy looked really, really, really bad. But he also wasn't sure she was conscious enough to actually be able to tell him anything.
no subject
“Ssshhh,” they retort to his list of things, putting a finger to their mouth, and lean up to put it to his. “Sshh. Too much. …I fell. Like the …”
Teddy blinks a few times; to Chris it will be clear something just happened, but not exactly what. For Teddy it’s like having just woken up — though there’s a vague memory of what had been being said immediately before, like a dream they couldn’t quite find the right words in. It’s not the only time this will happen, but it seems enormous.
Teddy looks around and back at Chris and frowns. There’s a bunch of realizations all crossing his face at once —- but he’s also a little more uncertain, almost a little wobbly.
When Teddy speaks her tone is quiet and unhappy, almost small, eyes abruptly a little shiny. “Did I have a seizure?”
Teddy nods mutely to does anything hurt. Too many things. They shift over to kind of thunk their forehead into his side, all at once incredibly tired and sad.
no subject
"You have seizures?" See that would have been a good thing for people to know, Teddy. For both their safety and other peoples sanity. Others might have thought they were freaking possessed. They burn people here Teddy.
"Let's get you home. Do you want to walk or can I carry you?" Really, Chris would much rather carry you. Especially since he couldn't just remotely orb them both. But he really didn't want to continue this conversation in public on the ground.
no subject
Hugs are good, though. Hugs are always good. This one could be turned up a lot, but he wasn't expecting any hug, so he drowsily shifts into it appreciatively.
"Hmm?" It feels like it's been a hundred hours since they last talked. "Yeah, sometimes." Ow. They pick their head up, not remembering why he's asking, frowning. "I had a seizure?" This time it's less wobbly and more really? fuck.
The way he asks that is nice. Do you want to ..., or can I...? Not can you walk on your own? as though that's the ideal answer, and not should I carry you like it's a burden or a responsibility. And not just can I, so she has to bring up other options -- more like, I'd like to but I won't if you don't want me to.
Teddy thinks, remarkably clearly, that it's a great example of how to give options.
"Remember that," Teddy tells him abruptly, because he knows he won't. "How you asked that. It's --" He can't think of the words he wants and makes an annoyed face. "Remind me later."
Things are rapidly starting to clear in their mind, but certain words just sit outside of their ability to put brain to mouth, like they got lost on the way. Teddy hates that part. They're a goddamn English major. Were. Whatever.
"I want to walk..." she says, dubiously and considers this. "You could... give me a piggyback?" Teddy suggests, which sounds less ...helpless-feeling, even though she reluctantly has to admit that this is one of the circumstances where she's pretty helpless. She's not entirely sure he's going to accept that offer, but. Hey. Worth a shot.
no subject
He gave them a look after they said 'remember that' and just nodded, because, he wasn't sure what that meant, but, he could tell it was important to them.
Chris wanted to carry Teddy but, he knew enough from growing up with Piper, Phoebe and Paige that what he wanted took a back seat when it came to someone elses wishes. This wasn't something that was going to impact Teddy's safety at all. So.
"Alright." It's not his favorite option, but, he also gets that being carried isn't always a first choice. Especially when Teddy actually wanted to walk but didn't want to say outloud that they weren't sure they could. He unwrapped his arms from them and crouched down.
"Get on."
no subject
(Though, they are pretty awesome.)
"You're an excellent, um." Shit. It's hard to be funny like this. Teddy purses their lips -- mediator? No... It's the, the thing you do. With business. Or... kidnappings. The guy on the phone! to the bank, or the embassy! -- as they haul themself to their feet. They mean to use Chris as a handhold for only half a second, but the abrupt launch upward is clearly too much at once; the whole world shifts abruptly.
Teddy puts both hands on Chris's shoulders for a second, breathing through the urge to either faint or throw up, neither of which would be very convincing that she was okay. "Well, ...an excellent railing, right now," they deadpan, maybe a little forced, but still wryly amused. After a moment the spell passes; Teddy smiles at having to figure out how to "get on" as an adult, wrapping her arms around his neck loosely and draping herself over his back so he can just stand and she can push off the ground along with him. "Sorry about that. Thought I was ready, but my brain was taking its sweet time..."
For some reason that little apology sets off a wave of emotion that they aren't expecting. As he moves, Teddy leans to rest their chin over his shoulder a little. "I'm sorry," they say again, fighting the lump in their throat and the heat at the back of their neck. "That you -- had to. Deal with --" (Me?) "All this...bullshit. I reckon I've never even mentioned, and I mean, this, even, you know, you don't have to..." They pause, pressing their lips together. "Thank you."
no subject
Chris tilts his head as far back as he can without shifting his body to get a better view of Teddy. "It's okay, next time we'll just go slower." He gets a good grip on Teddy and stands up, pausing again to make sure they're okay. And then Teddy's emotional tether lets loose. Chris didn't really have any experience with the after effects of seizures but, the best he could compare it to was someone coming off drugs or alcohol and, well, everyone's mind was fucked up with that. Seizures had to screw with your mind juice right? So he shifted his head and tilted it to the side so they were touching.
"You're welcome. This? Is not your fault. Don't put yourself down like that. I'm here because I want to be."
Chris slowly made his way to Teddy's house, figuring they would feel better in their own area.
no subject
Next time. If they weren’t dizzy and at the edge of whatever the hell neurotransmitter flood also tends to make them emotional, he’d get a teasing response like big words, kid. As it is, he gets a crooked-smile and a nod, a little breath of a wry laugh. That casual implication of yep hey so I guess this happens, and I’ll be around for it again feels Big. Regardless of how it’s meant.
The sideways lean, not-quite-a-nuzzle, is nice, and Teddy takes a second to breathe and just lean into it.
“Pfft.” Teddy lets out a little dubious huff at that order to never apologize again. “Pot, meet kettle,” she protests. Which is true, though it doesn’t change the fact that she does hate being a burden. “I know…. I just. Really fuckin hate these?” Her tongue hurts a little too much to explain every part, though once she can lie down and maybe get some water he deserves to know more.
On impulse, Teddy gives Chris’s cheek a kiss, simple and little, right at the cheekbone. “You’re sweet for saying so. though.”
“Oh hey, left here on the corner is me. If you go around the side, we can go up the stairs and not bother anyone.”
no subject
Then he got going, carrying Teddy on his back, arms looped around their legs for support.
"Yeah, I get it." Being helpless and stuck with something beyond your control was never a joyride. Then Chris got more Very Big Feelings when he felt Teddy's lips on his cheek. God that was nice. He wanted to lean into it, to turn and kiss them back. Except. His head didn't exactly turn that way.
Taking Teddy's suggestion, he went around the side and the up the stairs, and then carefully deposited Teddy on the bed. "Stay." He put his hands up like they might actually go somewhere. "Do you need a blanket? I'll get something to drink. And food if you need it?" Food? Chocolate? What did you give someone after they had a seizure? Chris looked around for a glass, not sure if a regular cup was okay or if he could find something with a kind of straw? Would a massage help? He thought it made sense, if they were sore.
no subject
“Yes, sir”, she teases, though bitten-up-tongue lisp probably takes a little of the snap out of the reply. Tell the truth, though, there’s little likelihood Teddy’s going anywhere, at least for a little while. Her absolutely everything aches, and she’s starting to get a headache behind one eye and spreading out.
Teddy’s not usually cowed by powering through pain, even, but right now he feels like he could fuse to the mattress, like the act of re-lying down reminded him he was tired. And yet, childishly, wishes a little that it was his bed at …home-home? Despite having both lived and had tonic-clonic seizures in a variety of places. It’s just that this is the first one here — and Teddy was sort of hoping it just wouldn’t happen, ever.
Chris is being very sweet, while also super extra in a I need to fix the thing way, and Teddy smiles at it. “Got water on the desk,” they nod toward it. There’s a tin pitcher and a tall glass that they keep filled when they’re in here, and they didn’t do much after waking up before going out, so it’s unlikely to be empty.
They shrug a little. “Um…”
Teddy isn’t sure she could eat, even though she probably should: she’s so exhausted, and in enough pain, that the idea seems a little nauseating. But also, it means going and getting something and coming back, and…
“Could you just…stay here?”
It’s a little sheepish.
no subject
It wasn't showing off if they asked you to stay right? Although Chris was quite sure that Teddy didn't mean 'don't go get the glass of water.' He waved his hand, carefully lifting the tin pitcher in the air to pour water in the tall glass, and send it speeding into his hand.
"Sip?" When Chris was content enough that Teddy was alright, or at least had sipped some water, he set it back down again and looked at them. "Slide over," and slid into the bed next to them, blanketing Teddy with his body, arm tucked around them. He leaned over to plant a soft kiss on their shoulder. "You scared the shit out of me back there." He couldn't help but feel mildly guilty though. He had been scared, but clearly not enough to be able to do anything about it. He tightened his grip on them, as if Teddy might somehow get up or fly away.
no subject
But this is like. Sword in the Stone, "Be Our Guest", Pinterest cottagecore~ cinemagraph magic, magic magic with the little floating pitcher, and Teddy lifts his eyebrows, giving Chris a little amused, impressed face before reaching to take the glass from him with both hands.
The water feels good on their bitten tongue, and it tastes good, which they have to concede means they're probably dehydrated, so they drink a decent amount before giving it back.
Teddy hadn’t expected Chris to not just not argue about food, but get in bed, and she smiles a little, shifting over. There aren't too many situations where being as small as she is feels like an advantage. But sharing a bed is one, and so is getting to be completely draped in a hug, like she has a Chris-shaped weighted blanket. Teddy leans into him, wrapping an arm around his. She's always a little cold after the initial way too hot drops off, and the warmth of him wrapped around her feels nice. Grounding, sort of, especially after the haze of sensations that are the last few moments she remembers.
They turn their head back, though, at his soft admission, the way he tightens his grip on them. "Hey." Teddy cranes their neck to bump his face with their nose. "I'm okay. Bumps and bruises. I'm right here."
He shifts, turning over in his hold; the solidity of being held is nice, but this feels like it deserves eye contact.
"I'm sorry. I should have told you. ...People have told me it's pretty fucked up." Teddy makes a face, hating it, hating that her life is a thing that scares people now. She pushes her fingers into Chris's hair, stroking it idly. "I -- was hoping it'd never have to come up? That's the first one I've had, here. That kind, anyway. There -- I'm rambling, aren't I."
no subject
"It is....pretty fucked up. But. I get it. This place is weird." He leaned forward to kiss the top of Teddy's head, smell their hair, know that they're actually okay. He sighed, feeling her fingers in his own hair, connecting, stroking. Alive.
"Ramble all you like." Chris had seen some fucked up things in his life. But what he saw with Teddy? Yeah, that was fucked up. And way scarier. Which was really saying something. Then again, he supposed watching someone disintegrate into white and blue orbs and reassemble was also kind of fucked up. So. Perspective.
"Is there anything I need to know about it? So that I can help you? If this is your first one here, then...what changed?" Chris was about to blame the Singularity, or the Free Cities or the gods. Something. Anything. But sometimes, things just are.
So, he just tightened his arms, feeling the change in her temperature and wished for the millionth time that he could heal and help. Chris breathes in deeply, enjoying enveloping Teddy as if there was danger. He let his limbs intertwine with theirs, thankful that Teddy was smaller than he was.
Then Chris realized something, and part of their words registered. "Wait. There are different kinds?" That. That sounded really important.
no subject
He does sigh a little, tucking his forehead kind of down against Chris's chest and smiling bitterly at that. If only this could be blamed on this place. "It's not this place," Teddy says half at the bed, brows knitting. "just my brain."
They look back up, tilting their head on the pillow a little to think as he tangles himself up with them. Sometimes Teddy's a little too proud to admit liking being comforted or taken care of, but right now it's so easy to relax into the security of Chris's arms around them and let themselves believe for the moment that he could actually keep more of the same away.
She doesn't think anyone except maybe her parents has asked her so many questions in a row in the interest of helping, and she hides a smile. "Probably I just pushed myself too hard," she admits. "I'm taking -- a kind of tea they give me, here, and it's been working about as well as the medicine at home. But lots of things can cause seizures..." Teddy trails off, trying to think where to begin. He asks about the different kinds, and she nods. That's as good a place as any.
"When you first saw me, was I already..." She winces. "You said you stopped me from falling, right?" It seems a little far away, now; the memory feels like a dream, but they're pretty sure they talked about that. "So I was standing up when you saw me. Did you say something to me then, or did I look at you?" Teddy feels like they remember Chris's voice, mixed in with all the impressions of something she was supposed to hear.
"I started having seizures when I was eleven. They weren't like this kind. They don't look the same. It more looks like I'm...daydreaming, or not paying attention, and it feels --" He makes a face. "Sometimes just dizzy, or sick, but sometimes I get...like a fucked up funhouse Wonderland. You feel like you're giant or things around you are stretched out, people keep saying things and you can't figure out what they are, or if you do it's not actually write. The world looks like it's melting. But -- only for a minute."
no subject
"So, I'll be there to help you not push yourself--and I'll still be there during and after." Because, that was the best he could offer right now. Teddy knew themselves best, and what he could do? Was try and pay attention if they were feeling extra fatigued or overwhelmed or.....whatever else might trigger it. And help, when, inevitably, shit happened anyway.
And then, Teddy asked. About before the seizure. At least they hadn't asked why he was there. "Yeah, you looked, well, kind of weird. You didn't seem right." That was, the truth at least. He kind of danced around it and hoped Teddy wouldnt outright notice.
"Alice in Wonderland-y. Okay, great. I'll keep that in mind. That is actually, really, really helpful. Thanks for telling me."
Chris hoped he wasn't saying anything or doing anything that was weird, but, this was all new. And mostly? He just really wanted to stay curled up around Teddy. It was nice. He watched Teddy though soft eyes, wishing there was a way to convey the swirling, complex feelings he had going through him. Feelings he hadn't really thought through completely himself yet. What he did know? He couldnt try to fix something that wasn't broken. And Teddy? Wasn't broken.
Hoping to convey that in not just words, Chris tilted his head down and lifted Teddy's head up to softly press his lips to theirs.
no subject
“The second kind...it’s a little like the first kind, only I’ll stop remembering and be even less aware. So no shaking or falling, still.”
Teddy lifts one hand to point vaguely at the right side of their head. “All the ...connections in my brain, like a big electrical grid...say there’s a misfire in one that starts here," they point at one random spot. "Right? And sometimes that’s all. But sometimes it makes all the ones around it glitch,” they spread their hand wider, “so more things get affected, and then sometimes it can spread to the whole brain,” — both hands — “and, well. You saw what happens then."
“That second part, where I don’t remember things, I guess sometimes I start walking, but ...badly, like I’m drunk. Or I stop in the middle of walking, or make little movements, like playing a guitar or scratching my face or trying to take clothes off. If you talk to me I might react but, near as I can tell it’s just to ...sound, almost, tone more than words, so if it's loud or stressed, I might get angry or scared."
"The weirdest part -- for me -- is right before that, though. When one’s turning into the other. The same weird sounds and distortions happen, they’re just...more. But there’s this thing, too. Sometimes..." Teddy tries to find a way to explain. "I get this feeling. Like someone’s trying to tell me the most important thing in the whole world, but I can't hear or..." She looks for the word. "Comprehend? Even though it feels like I should be able to. It's like -- if I could only understand this thing, I’d understand everything.
"And sometimes I get that with this just -- peaceful feeling. Even though I can't understand the thing, I still know that everything will be okay. Sometimes it's just quiet, and sometimes it almost feels like -- like all this chaos everywhere is silly and if everyone could just see what I was seeing, they’d understand too. And I guess sometimes I start laughing in real life too even though there's nothing happening outside my head.
"Sometimes it’s the other way — I feel really scared or sick and when I’m back to me, I can’t remember of what, just that I was afraid. Those ones don’t turn into big ones as much, but they’re a little easier to get out of my head after...weirdly. Like right now: I feel a little sad, like I missed out on the message and I can't even show you how perfect and okay things were. Even though I know it’s just my brain being poked in the right way, it still feels a little...like...like concert crash?"
She pauses again for a long moment, blinking up at him softly. "...This helps, though.”
It’s so nice, really, Chris’s hand on their head, just letting them ramble - or not talk at all — without moving or having to sit up, without pulling back to make proper eye contact. Between these long sections, Teddy takes a little longer than they might, just breathing and letting their eyes half-close. They just let their head settle; pick out what’s his pulse and what’s their own.
...it’s also incredibly convenient, when Chris says, “I’ll be there to help you ... and I'll still be there during and after."
(Like it’s nothing, like it’s easy. Like just level 1 and 2 weren’t enough to have made her, at various points, weird, creepy, embarrassing, the one slowing things down, “too complicated for what (someone was) looking for”. Completely free of the tannic aftertaste of you should be taking better care of yourself, but since you refuse to that tends to insinuate into her parents’ discussions, or the hint of maybe they’ll go away this time? that sometimes over-sweetens the band’s.)
For one thing, it gives Teddy a direction to look that isn’t straight at Chris for a moment, letting themself focus on the opposite wall until their eyes stop stinging. It also means she doesn’t have to move far to smush her face into his chest and wrap her arms around him in a best-she-can-manage crush of a hug.
“Good fucking luck,” Teddy says after a second, smiling wryly. It’s not quite what's bursting in their chest and caught behind their teeth, but it’s easier and less terrifying and better timed.
Chris tips her chin up and kisses her, and Teddy blinks for only half a second before relaxing. They kind of sigh into it, hoping they can press the gratitude and softness and care into the kiss back, smiling when they part and bumping their nose up along his before giving him a quick second kiss, pressing their foreheads together.
This is nice. Not scaring the shit out of Chris, which he still feels guilty about, or the headache and sore muscles that are making Teddy wish Solvunn had a God of Inflammation to bribe to fuck off with nightshades or something.
But lying in bed together tangled up talking and listening, and Chris not being fazed. Having literally just seen her foaming at the mouth, drooling tongue-blood, looking half possessed. And kissing her, too, anyway (after a glass of water, but still). It’s nice.
It’s almost impossibly nice, but ...something something about horses and their teeth.
"I really fucking like you," Teddy murmurs, fondly accusatory, tucking his head into the crook of Chris's neck and shoulder. "You won't go if I fall asleep?"
Wrap?
Chris let his fingers brush the side of Teddy's head, lightly over their hair, as they settled onto the curve of his shoulder. He breathed in deeply, enjoying the fluttering feeling beating in his chest.
"I really like you too, Teddy. And no, I'm not going anywhere. You know that rule that says you aren't allowed to move if a cat falls asleep on you? Well, the same applies to you. Sleep. I'll be here." Perfectly content at the moment at being used as a pillow. It was safer than that possessive feeling that was rattling inside him, that made him want to wrap his arms around Teddy and never let go.