redrighthanded | IC; Duplicity Inbox

Hey, it's -- [ He starts forward, stops himself just in case, then realises as he does it how stupid that reaction feels. No matter what's happened between them, Jacob is still his friend, and he's clearly in some kind of pain.

Resolute, he crosses the space between them, reaching out to put a crooked finger under Jacob's chin and encourage him to lift his eyes back up before his touch drifts back, down onto the assassin's shoulder. ] Wanna talk about it?

[Jacob's response is instinctive, tipping his head up at the merest touch of the large red hand against his chin. He's trying very hard to keep a grip on himself, trying so hard not to let it all burst out of him but as he looks up at Hellboy, as he tries to breath steadily, he knows Hellboy can read him like a book.]

Those people. They were... what happened to them. I couldn't stop it. I didn't know it was going to happen. I've been here months. I've done nothing to make this place better. I don't- I can't-

[ He doesn't even know how to explain it, the knot of guilt in his chest, the feelings of inadequacy rearing up like stallions about to crush him. He's no closer now that he was when he first arrived.

And he's got no one to blame but himself.]

[ It's not the response he expected to get, not framed like that, but it fits with what he knows about Jacob. Those airy dreams about resistance they talked about in the darkness of their room weren't just ideals for him. That he feels a personal sense of failure over something he could never have prevented isn't, in hindsight, all that surprising. ]

Hey.. [ Hellboy breaks into that litany of guilt before it can go any further. There's no question about what Jacob needs from him now. He pulls him into his arms without a moment's hesitation, ducking his chin down to kiss the top of his head. ] You couldn't've stopped that. You've seen the crap those guys can do to people. It's not your fault.

[Tucking his head in against Hellboy, feeling the lips brush his hair, it releases something in him, although not totally. Pressing his face into the other man's chest, breathing in the scent of peanuts, wishing he could banish those images from his mind. It wasn't sex, it was torture, for all of the people involved. How could the people in charge get away with that? For all Hellboy says that he couldn't have done anything, Jacob is sure that he could have done something.]

It's not my fault. But they could do that to any of us. They could hurt you, or Harley, Gilia, anyone. I can't let that happen.

[ It's not difficult to feel the tension in Jacob's body, even through the layers he has on. Hellboy brushes his hand over the cold damp of his walk through the Down clinging to him, pulling him closer, even his tail winding out to wrap loosely around the younger man's knee. ]

They could hurt you. I don't want that to happen either.

[ Jacob is trying so hard not to tremble too, but failing. He's not as good at controlling himself as he thinks, be it his impulses or his body. But the way Hellboy pulls him in close distracts him from his failings, all of them. He's safe, he's loved, although that might still be on shaky ground, and his life is valued. Not by those who see him as a tool, a highly trained soldier, a means to an end, but as a person.

It's more than he deserves, and he knows it.

He takes a breath, realising that he might accidentally smother himself against the other man's skin, and tries to swallow back the answer that is always quick to his lips, the lesson all assassins are taught: his life is nothing compared to the people he must save.]

They might hurt me. But that means they'd have to catch me.

[ In the context of the conversation it's not a joke at all, but Hellboy allows himself the ghost of a smile anyway, if only because he likes to hear Jacob's confidence. He's pretty sure the young assassin could give whoever he wanted a run for their money, though he doesn't relish the thought of finding out.

He strokes his hand down Jacob's back, feeling that trembling tension in him, wondering what he can do to soothe it. ]

Hey, they'd have to fight me too. And I'm pretty sure I can make most of them regret trying. [ He makes a thoughtful noise, reaching up to brush his fingertips over the back of Jacob's head. ] You sure you don't want anything stronger than tea?

They'd have to fight you too huh? I hope they've got insurance.

[ The bare hint of a smile is nice, and it makes him long for the broader, easier smiles Hellboy used to turn his way. Instead he keeps his breathing as measured as he can make it, and shakes his head in reply to the question.]

Not to drink. Get myself into some real shite if I do. Besides, what's stronger than you? Not much.

[ He turns his head, putting his cheek on Hellboy's warm chest, and tries not to think about what would happen if they did catch him again.]

I dunno, I've met some pretty strong guys.

[ The banter is easier than talking about anything more painful, but the tension is still there. Hellboy's not about to break the hug though, not until the water in the pot starts hissing as it boils. Outside, the rain starts to come down more heavily, rattling against the roof of the warehouse. ]

C'mon, you wanna watch some TV? Might help take your mind off things.

Me for a start. But somehow I don't think those guys are as smart as you.

[He hears the pan start to boil and his fingers close on Hellboy's clothes. He wants a cuppa, he does, but he wants Hellboy not to let go of him just let. But after a second, he reluctantly eases his grip.]

That's the... play that's recorded right?

IC; Duplicity Inbox

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