Amnesia Plot [2 1/2 Weeks In]
Teddy hasn't hit his breaking point, because he can't break. Billy depends on him. Even if they're not what they should be, even if Teddy misses them every second of every day, Billy depends on him. He's his best friend, the only person he really knows on the island, at this point, and it's only been twenty days, not even three full weeks. So he hasn't hit his breaking point because that's not an option.
He's waiting for Billy, who went to the Compound to shower and get laundry and maybe food, and Teddy feels bad for not going with and loitering but...
He just needs a minute. He just needs a few minutes alone. Knees draw up and arms crossed over them, he tries to not to lose it, to breathe through the emotions he's been keeping under tightest wraps, but they're still threatening to rip out of him. He's so tired all the time, and he feels so damn lonely.
He's waiting for Billy, who went to the Compound to shower and get laundry and maybe food, and Teddy feels bad for not going with and loitering but...
He just needs a minute. He just needs a few minutes alone. Knees draw up and arms crossed over them, he tries to not to lose it, to breathe through the emotions he's been keeping under tightest wraps, but they're still threatening to rip out of him. He's so tired all the time, and he feels so damn lonely.
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Right now, that very moment... it's everyone else he's thinking of. Teddy especially. Shit's rough all over but even Maxxie can realize how hard this must be on Teddy. So he heads over to Billy and Teddy's place, hoping to find Teddy by himself but thinking that hanging out with the two of them might also make things easier, just for a little while.
When he sees Teddy on the porch, all curled up, he immediately thinks he should have done more and sooner. He can't imagine how tough this is, especially living with it.
"Hey, dude," Maxxie says softly, coming up to grab a seat beside Teddy. He lays a hand on his shoulder. "Alright?"
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"Yeah," he says on the exhale.
"Yeah, 'm okay. You?"
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"Alright," Maxxie answers with a shrug. He's been better, but this isn't about him.
"Everything's fucked, huh?" It's an easy comment, his tone as unremarkable as though he were talking about the weather.
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"Mmn- yeah. Uh, yeah, it is." He's quiet a minute, chewing the inside of his lower lip before looking over at Maxxie.
"I just... I thought he'd have remembered, by now. I thought..."
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"Yeah," he says. "All the stuff you guys have done, you'd think it'd come through. But it's not him, dude."
He lifts his gaze, sympathy written all over his face. "It's the island. It's the stupid magic stuff."
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He stops, pressing his lips into a thin line and ducking his head again. He draws his knees up further and puts his arms across them, grinding his molars together. He doesn't want to cry in front of anyone, although there are probably worse people to do it in front of than Maxxie. Nevertheless, he presses his knuckles to his eyelids for a long moment, as if that will keep anything from slipping out.
"Sorry."
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"S'alright."
He waits, and then he reaches out again, giving Teddy's shoulder a squeeze.
"It's hard. It fucking sucks. But he's still here, Teddy. It'll sort itself out. You just gotta hang on."
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"Yeah. And we're friends, already, I mean. It's great, how fast we became best friends. But he doesn't..." His gaze wavered and dropped.
"He doesn't think of me, as... the way he used to. So it's extra important I don't do anything that's become habit, you know, touch his hair, or his back or his hip, and I want to all the time. Bad enough we woke up in bed together, I can't freak him out any more. Friends is enough. For now. Anyway," he adds with a tired half grin, "I think he thinks you're cute."
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He barks out a soft laugh, startled by Teddy's comment, and shakes his head.
"Only 'cause I sort of look like you," he quickly points out. "Only reason he's ever given me more than a friendly glance."
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"There are definitely more reasons, but I'll take that. I will totally take that." He sighs and shoves his hands back through his hair, scrubbing them forward and back again, then shaking his head a little until it settles. He sniffles once, hard, deciding that he's done with crying, or almost crying.
"I really miss my bed. I've been couching it."
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"Oh, bummer," he says with feeling.
"...Is he here? Maybe you could sneak a kip when he's not looking."
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"No, he's at the compound. That... might not be the worst idea."
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"I'll keep watch," he promises. "So he doesn't find you and it makes things awkward."
It could also make things better, Maxxie thinks. But he has a feeling that thought comes from the portion of brain that still believes some porn could happen in real life.
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"Oh, God, you want awkward? He- we fell asleep on the couch last night, talking. And this morning, I woke with my arms around him, and- Jeeezus," he groans, shoving the heel of his palm against his forehead.
"I'm gonna lose it. I'm gonna do something really stupid and cross a line or weird him out."
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"Sucks, dude," he sighs. "If you ever need space, you know, there's a free bed in my room. And hey, maybe he wouldn't be weirded out at all. I mean, clearly he has to like you."
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"Thanks," he says quietly, then looks over at Maxxie and offers him a genuine smile.
"Not just for the offer. I'm, um, really, really grateful. Just for listening. So, thanks, Maxxie."
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"You're welcome," Maxxie says, squeezing his shoulder again. "Now come on. I think you need some fucking sleep."
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"No offense, but you're a mess." Maxxie couples his words with a tone of concern and then a dry, short laugh.
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"I know. I really know."
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This is definitely the latter and Teddy definitely needs it.
"Come on," he says again, letting his hands drift away. "Face down. In bed. I'll give you a massage and then wake you before Billy gets back."
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"I must really look like a total wreck if you're handing out free massages."
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"That's so cold," he mumbles, and collapses face first onto the bed.
Oh, it is so much better than the couch.
"Oh, no," he mumbled, into the bedspread, "'m not gonna be able to move. He's gonna think I'm like smelling the sheets or something and run screaming. Crap."
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"If that's the weirdest thing you do, I think you're in the clear. Besides, I'll cover for you. Swear on a Bible that you aren't a sheet sniffer," he promises. "Tell me if I press too hard, yeah?"
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