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 Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 10:09 am
Takes place early January 2026 after: Known (Énna + Riker) Checking In (Julian + Talia)
He got a text while he’d been sleeping. Home. But of course he couldn’t respond when he woke up. Julian might have been sleeping, and he wasn’t about to wake him up just to make sure he was okay.
He texted both Evan and Zac to let them know he was on the way home, and made sure the door to Énna’s house was locked behind him.
The drive home was calm. The roads were relatively empty for a Sunday morning, thankfully. By the time he pulled into the driveway, he was already wide awake, despite the lingering exhaustion.
Maxim was the first to greet him, tail thumping against the floor as Riker crouched to pet him. The motion pulled uncomfortably at his ribs, but he didn’t mind. He pressed a kiss to Evan’s forehead when he saw him, muttering a low “Morning,” and leaning into a quick hug before he could be told to go rest.
The kitchen smelled faintly like coffee, and he took a few seconds to grab what he could carry. A couple bagels, a muffin, a banana. Just random things that Julian might actually eat. He balanced everything carefully in one arm and headed for the stairs.
A year ago, back when he’d been stabbed… back when he’d died and was brought back… his family had set up an electronic chair along the stairs to help him get up and down without agitating his injury. He hesitated, because he was already gearing up to take the steps two at a time for the sake of reaching the top faster…
But he’d noticed how it had been set to the bottom. And he knew he would probably be given sad looks if he ignored it. So even though Riker was desperate to check on Julian, he sighed and sat down in the chair to ride to the top.
Once at the top, it was easy to see that their door was cracked open, but he still lifted a hand to knock, softly.
“Hey,” he called, voice still a bit rough. “You up?” He nudged the door open with his foot, letting his overnight bag sling down from his shoulder and onto the floor by the closet.
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 10:11 am
When alone, Julian never closed his door. Maybe it was just an old habit. Maybe he just hadn't gotten used to having a room that was 'his'.
It would have been more concerning to find the door was closed than open, but it was open wide so Maxim had obviously been up to visit at some point.
Julian had turned to face Riker even before he entered. The hum of the electric chair would quiet, and maybe he wouldn't have heard it at all if the television volume hadn’t been so low. The Addams Family was on again; it was an easy go-to show for him to fall asleep to. It wasn't too colorful, wasn't too loud, wasn't too serious. No stress, no stakes, no one ever got hurt.
Before he heard Riker coming up, his eyes had been on the television. He hadn't been watching it.
"I'm up," Julian answered. His voice croaked just slightly–an ugly noise that made him stop talking immediately while he gently cleared his throat. He had a bottle of water next to him in bed, almost emptied, and he took a careful sip of it. He didn't move much.
He'd set up a nest of pillows and settled himself into a seated position against the wall. He'd draped a throw blanket around his shoulders like a cape. A second blanket was rolled behind his neck like a bulky scarf, and he rested his head against it instead of holding up a pillow. He had two more pillows balled against his stomach and rested an arm over them.
His heated blanket was tucked around him and turned on low. It wasn't quite cold in the room, but Julian always ran chilly.
None of the lights were on, but the room was bathed in the gentle glow of morning light.
Julian was glad to see Riker, but he couldn’t muster much of a smile. The corner of his lip twitched, like he tried. He just looked tired. Dark circles under his eyes competed with the shadows of a bruise on his temple, but anything more than that was hidden by his loose hair.
An ice pack, long since warmed up, was discarded on the table at the head of the bed. With it were a few snacks–boring and bland and not too heavy on the stomach. Most hadn't even been opened. He'd eaten some crackers and left the empty wrappers there. The wastebasket was nearby but he hadn’t even tried to reach it. Julian never left a mess, and he rarely–if ever–ate in bed.
Last night had been an exception.
Three different bottles of pills were set out by his snacks. The ibuprofen was no great secret. Even the Benadryl, which he sometimes took before bed, was loud in its pinkness but not otherwise out of place. The third bottle, hidden behind the others, came from the back of a desk drawer he never fully opened. The little bag of antibiotics was next to them.
Julian's phone was in his lap, face up.
"How are you doing? How's Énna?" he asked, a bit raspier than usual but no less soft-spoken.
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 10:12 am
“I’m fine. Sore. He’s okay,” Riker said, keeping his voice low. “Still sleeping when I left. His dad’s there, though, so…”
He trailed off, setting the food down on the corner of the desk. The motion drew another tug through his ribs, and while he winced, he didn’t stop. His body had learned to tuck discomfort into the background. And it was easier to handle when there was something more important to focus on.
Julian made that easy.
For just a moment, he stood there, studying Julian in the morning light. The bruise on his temple looked worse now than it had before. The shadow under his eyes made something twist in Riker’s heart. He’d known Julian was hurt, but the reality of seeing it -- of really seeing it -- felt like he plunged into ice water. Riker’s throat tightened. He didn’t move closer right away. He hadn’t been close enough when it happened, hadn’t been able to protect him. And the guilt settled hard in his stomach.
“You look like you’ve been up a while,” he said quietly, though it wasn’t a question. It was just easier than saying ‘you look worse than I thought’ or ‘I should’ve stayed.’ He meant it gently, not accusingly. He could tell from the slightly unfocused glaze of Julian’s eyes, and the way the blanket had settled unevenly around his shoulders.
He crossed the short distance to the bed, careful not to hover too much, but settled on the edge of the bed. “I grabbed a few things. Bagels, muffin, banana. If you don’t want any of it right now, I can leave them here. Or bring them back down.”
Julian didn’t need him fussing. But the sight of the melted ice pack near the bed had him pulling out his phone before he could think twice about it. He typed a quick message to Evan -- Can you throw up some ice packs when you get a chance please? For Jules.
He didn’t wait for a reply before slipping the phone back into his pocket.
He sat carefully on the edge of the bed, close but not too close, his voice quieter still when he continued. “I’m sorry. I should’ve come home sooner.”
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 10:12 am
Riker’s quiet scrutiny should have made Julian squirm, but there was nowhere to go and he didn’t have the energy anyway. At first, he kept his eyes on the television, but as the seconds ticked on, his eyes found their way to Riker’s anyway.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Julian assured, and this time he did manage a half-smile. “I’m glad you were able to be with Énna. I was worried about him. And you.”
Julian didn’t try to sit up; he just stayed in his comfortable nest.
“Do you want a pillow? I took all of them, sorry. It’s a good thing Talia likes blankets so much. I should have grabbed some more before I lay down.” He reached for one of the pillows on his left side, carefully passing it over. He kept his right arm folded and resting. “I slept, if that’s what you were worried about. I might go back to sleep in a little bit. I’m still tired. But thank you for breakfast. And the antibiotics.” He wasn’t hungry right now but he’d need to eat, and a banana was better than more crackers.
“Are you staying home today? I can move, let me make some space for you. Do you want to lie down?”
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 10:12 am
“No, don’t move,” Riker said, shaking his head. “You’re fine where you are.”
He took the pillow Julian offered, holding it for a second before setting it aside against the headboard. His ribs complained about the reach, but he ignored it. It wasn’t bad enough to make him stop, just enough to remind him he probably should.
He stayed sitting where he was for a moment, trying to decide what to do with his hands. There was a restless kind of energy under his skin. There were too many things he wanted to do and say, and none of them felt quite right. So instead, he reached for what he could reasonably control, which was cleaning up a bit around the bed.
It wasn’t much. Just the empty wrappers, the melted ice pack, the pill bottles grouped together. He set the trash aside first, then picked up the bottles to straighten them.
Ibuprofen, he knew. Benadryl, too. But the third one… he knew that one lived in Julian’s drawer. He’d seen the label before when he was putting things away, but he didn’t like making Julian think he was snooping. Riker’s fingers hesitated over it before he carefully set it neatly on the nightstand with the others.
He didn’t say anything right away. He didn’t want to sound like he was checking up on him, or worse, accusing. He knew how easily Julian shut down when things felt too close to that.
Still… his voice came out soft. Careful. “You feeling okay? These all for the same thing?”
He kept his tone as neutral as he could, even though his stomach was tight with worry. Julian was always so carefully composed, even when he didn’t have to be. He hid his pain too well. And it was obvious that he would be in pain, what with the bruising.
When the question lingered between them for too long, Riker’s voice softened. “You can tell me if you’re not, you know. I’m not gonna make a big deal out of it. I just--”
He stopped himself, pressing his lips thoughtfully together for a few moments before continuing. “I just don’t like seeing you hurting. Physically or otherwise.”
The last part came out quieter, almost under his breath, like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud.
He leaned back a little, finally giving Julian some more space again. “I’m staying home,” he said after a moment. “Figured I’d make sure you didn’t have to get up for a bit. You can rest. I’ll be right here.”
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 10:12 am
“I’m sorry about the mess,” Julian said instinctively, eyes sweeping the once-messy table. He hadn’t been fast enough to speak before Riker cleaned it up, so he tried to explain, “I was going to get it when I got up. I just haven’t yet. You don’t have to clean.”
Didn’t have to get involved with his mess.
Didn’t have to worry so much.
Julian’s eyes fell on the bottles like he wasn’t sure if he should be ashamed of them. Guilt crossed his features, like he thought he might have done something wrong.
“I’m fine,” he insisted, though he’d spoken without thought. It wasn’t the truth, but he hadn’t meant to lie. His thoughts were just scattered, stretched thin and in too many directions.
He needed to reel himself back in, to focus on just one thing at a time and work through everything at his own pace.
“They, um–no, they aren’t for the same thing. I just–” Julian sucked in a deep breath–too deep–and had to exhale in short, slow bursts to relieve the pressure in his chest. “I wasn’t sure which one to take. I needed time to figure it out. You can’t take them all together,” he explained, as if sharing some fun tidbit of information. It would have been more convincing if his voice didn’t tremble.
“I took half a Benadryl. And some ibuprofen,” he said, a little calmer, because he was sure Riker would ask–or worry more–if he didn’t know. “I was worried I would miss a text.”
None of his medicine would have left him clear-headed in an emergency. He wanted to sleep but he didn’t want to sleep through anything.
“I’m tired.” The truth. “And a little sore.” Sort of the truth. But it was impossible to tell if he was lying to Riker or himself.
“But it doesn’t hurt so much that you have to worry. Honest. I’ve got this all figured out,” he promised. “It’s not even that uncomfortable right now. And I was going to ask Atticus if I could borrow him in a little while. If everyone else is okay. You should rest, too. You got really hurt, Riker. I don’t want you to have to get up, either. Was everyone okay after the springs?”
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 10:13 am
“You don’t have to apologize,” Riker said softly. “It’s not a mess. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t wake up to it later.”
He didn’t sound like he was scolding, just tired. It didn’t help that even though he’d managed a few hours of sleep at Énna’s house, or the other hour of sleep he got in the Springs and embarrassed himself when he jolted awake to Lyon watching him, he was still practically running around trying to make sure everyone was okay. He was afraid if he stayed still for too long, he would just fall asleep again.
He rested his hands against his knees for a moment, watching the way Julian’s hand hovered near the pill bottles, almost as if he was guarding them. As if they were something Riker wasn’t supposed to touch.
“I believe you,” he said after a moment. And he did! Julian always thought things through, even when he was exhausted. Even when he shouldn’t have to. “I just…” He hesitated again, pressing his lips together once more as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say.
“You don’t always have to figure it out alone.”
It wasn’t an accusation, just a gentle hand reaching out to someone who could be drowning and think they should be able to figure out survival on their own.
He physically reached out as well, before he thought about it, brushing aside Julian’s bangs so he could see the bruise properly. The sight made his stomach twist. The bruise had bloomed darker overnight. Ugly violet and fading green. He let out a quiet breath, trying to release the tension from his chest.
He let his fingertips linger, gingerly tracing over the worst of the bruise, but never applying enough pressure to hurt Julian. More like determining just what happened by the shape of how it formed.
“Lyon told me,” Riker added quietly, eyes still on the bruise. “What you did. With the General.”
There was no judgment in his voice, but it was something heavy that he couldn’t quite let settle. “That was… really brave, Jules. But it scared me. You could’ve--” He stopped himself before the word died could slip out. They only had one of those beads. The thought of having to choose between Énna and Julian made him want to throw up.
He cleared his throat, but it sounded rough, and dropped his hand to his lap. “I’m glad you didn’t.”
He glanced at the bottles again, then held out his hand, nodding to Julian’s phone. “I can plug it in for you, if you want. You don’t have to keep checking it. I’ll stay up for a bit, keep an eye on messages.”
His tone softened a bit again. “You should call Atticus, though. Or text him. If you don’t, I will.” He meant it, but not in a scolding way. Just the quiet, stubborn tone that sounded a lot like Zac when he was done arguing.
He leaned back against the headboard again, careful not to jostle Julian’s blankets. “Everyone’s okay,” he said finally. “Sore, but okay. You did good, Jules. We all survived.”
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 10:13 am
Julian stiffened when Riker brushed his bangs to the side. It wasn’t a flinch, not really. Just something instinctive, like if he stayed still enough he could just disappear. Or, more accurately, the bruise would.
He wanted to stay here. He wanted to be here.
But the bruise could go.
It was an ugly thing, from his forehead, across part of his cheekbone, and down to his jaw. Most of it was easily hidden behind his hair.
He stayed perfectly still while Riker looked. It wasn’t an unwelcome examination, but it was uncomfortable all the same. He felt exposed and on display. Riker meant no harm. Julian trusted him implicitly.
Julian didn’t blink. Didn’t swallow. Just stared at the television.
“It’s not so bad,” he said, quieter now. He didn’t know how bad it looked. He just knew how bad it felt. “Please don’t worry too much. I think it must look worse than it is. But you know how I bruise.” Badly, easily, like his body was a canvas desperate for someone to paint it.
“I hope Atticus is still sleeping now. I don’t want to wake him up or worry him. I was thinking I might wait until lunch time to message him. But I am going to ask, I promise. I’m not avoiding it.” He didn’t want to hurt. He just didn’t want to be a burden. There were people who needed help last night, much more than he did. He could wait for it to be his turn.
He tilted his phone screen. Still at 48%, despite an entire night of checking it every few minutes. He showed the battery to Riker, not a rejection of his offer, but not a pressing need, either. If Riker didn’t have to move, Julian didn’t want him to.
One pillow wasn’t enough. He passed Riker another one, all the while moving in very slow, calculated ways. He was very good at making it look like he didn’t hurt, even when he wasn’t really trying to hide it. Then, he slowly began to pull a folded blanket from where he’d tucked it under his knees, and tried to pass that over, too.
“I think you should rest if you can. I can turn the volume up on my phone. I think one of us will hear it? Even if we both take a nap.” Truthfully, Julian wasn’t so sure he’d be able to sleep. His body was still on high alert. It would wear itself out, eventually. He just had to wait it out.
He knew he was safe. His body just hadn’t quite gotten the message yet.
But, it was okay. He wasn’t mad at it. Last night was hard, and it had been through a lot. His body was doing its best, and Julian could be patient. He just felt bad for it.
He turned up the heated blanket just a little, but lifted the edge as if to invite Riker to share it with him, if he wanted.
Though Riker had praised him, Julian wasn’t sure if he did good. He’d thought a lot about last night, and what he could have done differently. What he wished he’d been able to do. By no means was he cruel to himself, but he lived his life in a constant state of wishful thinking and dreaming about ‘being better’.
He was still figuring out what that meant–and how to achieve it.
He still had a long way to go.
“I’m really glad everyone is okay.” Though, ‘okay’ felt like such an inadequate word. ‘Alive’ didn’t feel right either. His head hurt too much to search for better terms. He had to force those thoughts to slow, to retreat, and then to fade.
Everyone was okay–or, at least, on the road to it. Even him.
“Although, I’m not sure what Lyon told you. I don’t think I really did anything. I saw your summon fighting, and Lyon had your sword. I didn’t see much else clearly.” He’d seen a few other flashes of magic but his mind was foggy and the bright lights blurred them all together. “You guys did a really good job. I was worried he was going to hurt Rose and Lyon. Is that what you mean?”
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 10:13 am
“Yeah,” Riker said, voice low. “I know how you bruise.”
He let out a quiet huff. Reluctant acceptance mixed with mild exasperation. “And I also know what that line means. ‘Looks worse than it is.’”
He leaned back a little, letting his head rest against the headboard. His ribs didn’t love it, but he was used to the complaining from his body. “That one’s an easy thing to say. I use it too. Usually when I don’t want anyone worrying or looking too close,” he hummed, but his eyes softened. He didn’t sound like he was scolding, just a quiet admission of his own.
“Lyon told me you grabbed the General’s cape,” he said finally. “That’s what I meant. Trying to stall him, I imagine.”
He didn’t add that he could see it in his mind. How reckless it must have been, how easily it could have gone wrong. That he’d had to picture Julian’s body being cut open like Énna’s…
“It was smart,” Riker said instead, even though his throat tightened around the words.
He glanced at the phone Julian tilted toward him, looked at the partially charged battery, the quiet justification to not move, and took it gently from his hand anyway. “I’ll plug it in. You can still hear it if you get a message.”
He reached for the cord by the nightstand, careful about his ribs, and quickly busied himself with getting the phone plugged in to keep him from saying anything too raw. His thoughts were messy. A mixture of worry, admiration, guilt… and he didn’t trust any of them to come out right.
When he turned back, he nodded toward the bottles again. “You said you couldn’t take them all together,” he started carefully. “But could you take one of the others now? Or the antibiotics, at least? We all breathed in a lot of stuff down there. I don’t want you getting sick on top of everything else.”
It wasn’t a demand, just gentle insistence that balanced between concern and stubbornness.
“I promise I’ll sit down and stay put after. Maybe even take you up on that blanket. Let me check if Evan’s too busy first. I can get some more ice if he is,” he explained, picking up his own phone to check for any messages. His body felt heavy, but the thought of stopping, of actually resting, still made his heart race anxiously. He couldn’t. Not until he was sure Julian was taken care of.
He looked back over at him, quieter now. “You did do something,” he said, circling back because he couldn’t just let Julian’s doubt hang there. “You made him stop. You gave everyone enough time to fight back. You gave the others the time they needed to get their footing. You were vital in getting him to leave long enough for us to escape, whether you think you were or not.”
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 10:13 am
Julian didn’t huff, but the soft exhale of breath came out a little too forcefully. He was controlling his breathing–short, light breaths. In, and out. Consistently paced, delivered with a mindfulness built through practice.
His half-lidded eyes found Riker this time, because it would have been a disservice to him not to give him the attention he deserved.
Julian didn't say much at first, aside from a soft word of gratitude when Riker plugged in his phone. Except, now Julian didn't know what to do with his hand, so he just curled his fingers into the pillow and held it tightly.
"Well," he said, dragging out the word a little longer than he meant to. "...I'm glad I could help. A little. Thank you."
And, he meant it, even if it sounded rehearsed. Julian was not–nor had he ever been–good at accepting any sort of praise. Most of the time, he felt like a fraud, and worse, that it would lead to disappointing his friends, and then somehow the inevitable collapse of their trust in him would result in distance, and then abandonment. Which was a completely impractical fear, he knew. His friends were too good for that. Too kind, too stubborn.
He knew better than to worry about it. But he wasted energy on it anyway.
They could have done it without him, probably. But he didn't say that. Reims was hurt, and trying to hide it. Why give him more to get worked about?
Julian smiled politely instead, and pulled another blanket from his nest, apparently willing to deconstruct it entirely if it meant making Riker more comfortable.
"Did you text Evan to ask for ice? I hope it was for you. I'm okay." But Riker wouldn't believe that, so Julian tried to correct. "I don't hurt so much right now. Honest. My body's too tired for that right now. I took the antibiotics last night, at one thirty. With food," he reported. "I followed the instructions and set an alarm. The other stuff–" his eyes fell to the table. "I don't need the other stuff. It was just in case. The Benadryl was all I needed. So I overreacted."
Somehow, it sounded like an apology.
He fixed his hair absently so it covered the bruise again but he caught Riker watching him and felt like he needed to explain that, too. "It does look worse than it is," he insisted, without argument but full of conviction. Julian knew what it meant when Riker said it. He knew how hypocritical it was that he said it now–but, it was different.
"I can still move my face. And if I'm not moving, I don't really even notice it. You know my body's just a little overdramatic. I'm fine. Nothing's broken. I didn't bleed a lot. I'm sore. But I've got a nice bed, and a nice room, and a nice place to rest. So I'm doing really well, Riker. I promise. I'm being good."
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 10:14 am
“Yeah,” Riker said quietly, glancing over the screen of his phone. “Texted him. He said he’s bringing ice up in a minute. Didn’t ask for anything else.”
He didn’t look up right away. The little tremor in Julian’s voice when he’d said ‘I overreacted’ made him uneasy in a way he couldn’t explain. Julian never overreacted. From how he breathed to how he placed himself in a room, it was always calculated, controlled. And when things shifted out of alignment, Julian froze like he had to recalibrate to get back on track.
“You didn’t,” he said after a moment, shaking his head. “You didn’t overreact. You were right about everything. About being watched. About what was coming. I think we’d have been way worse off if you hadn’t been so careful.”
He tried to keep his voice even, but it came out softer… tired, not scolding. “You don’t need to apologize for that. No one would want you to.”
He glanced over at the bottles again before he could stop himself. “If that other one’s for… you know. Anxiety or panic or whatever,” he said carefully, “It’s okay if you need it. I’d rather you be comfortable than sitting there trying to breathe through it.”
He didn’t try to push it further, at least not yet. Julian would take it or not, but Riker wanted him to know it was okay either way. “I don’t think you told me the story behind those. The other one in the drawer too,” he nodded vaguely towards the desk. He’d seen the bottles, but he didn’t try to get answers. Maybe now wasn’t the time for them. Maybe there would never be a good time. But he knew it wasn’t the kind of thing Julian would volunteer.
He drew in a shallow breath, his ribs protesting the effort. The sound that escaped him was a half sigh, half huff of disbelief. “You keep saying you’re fine,” he said, but his eyes were softening again. “But I think you’d say that even if you were missing an arm. You don’t have to convince me you’re being good, Jules. You’re always good. You don’t have to try so hard to prove it.”
He shifted on the bed just enough to reach for the folded blanket Julian had offered, pulling part of it over his lap so it wouldn’t feel like he was rejecting Julian’s offer.
“You should still take it easy, though. Let your body be dramatic for once. It earned it. Once the ice gets here, I’ll help you get settled, okay? Then we’ll both rest.”
He hesitated then, because the thought wouldn’t leave his throat no matter how many times he swallowed. When he finally spoke again, it came out low, and a little unsteady.
“You don’t have to be good for me to care about you,” he said. “You don’t have to earn it. You just… you just need to exist, Jules. That’s good enough for me.”
The words settled between them, heavier than he meant, but true. Every bit of it.
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 10:14 am
Julian’s eyes dropped to the heated blanket’s tag. He wasn’t reading it, it was just conveniently eye-catching. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t frowning, either. He never took a deep breath, never let his lungs fill up too much. Except, now he was breathing a little faster, a little heavier.
Even in the quiet of the room, it was hardly even noticeable.
“My body is always dramatic,” he said softly. “I don’t get to control what it does sometimes. But it’s okay. It’s doing its best. And I’m happy to have it, and it’s taken good care of me so I’m taking good care of it. I promise,” he said, only it sounded like he was pleading for Riker to trust that much, at least.
“I’m fine,” he repeated, even if he would have said it if he were missing an arm. “I know how this is going to turn out, and it’s okay.”
He said it like a mantra he’d become very familiar with: “I’m home, I’m safe, I’m resting. I’m going to ask for help, and I’m going to get help. There are good people in my life. But they need to rest too. I’m okay. Things are only going to get better.”
He must have repeated it in his head because it took a second for him to look up at Riker again. To the medicine. Back down.
“I only took what I needed to take. I’m comfortable.” As much as he could be, at least. He was well settled and had probably been sitting up against the wall all night. He’d slept there, like that.
When he slept again, it would probably be in the same position.
He knew how to take care of this body, for all of its dramatics.
Someone had to.
But he was still desperate for Riker to deem him good because the alternative was bad and Julian could not exist in comfort if he was bad.
So he needed to earn it–and would continue to try, no matter how gently Riker assured him otherwise. And the worst part was that he trusted Riker, he knew Riker believed those things.
But Julian didn’t. And he was in no state to reorganize his entire thought process. He could save that for tomorrow, or next week, or never, because doing his best to be good had worked out pretty well so far, all things considered.
And people only said you didn’t have to earn goodness when they hadn’t seen what you were without it.
But he felt guilty for being disagreeable, so it was only fair that he offer something to Riker to make up for how difficult he could be. “There isn’t really a story. I had a doctor that told me to take them when I was having a hard time sleeping, or when I got too stressed. So I do. I’ve had them for a while. If you take them too often, they stop working as well. So I don’t. They make me sleepy. It’s not for anxiety. Well, it is. I mean, you can use them for anxiety. Or you can use them to sleep.”
His jaw twitched like he wanted to say more–or wanted to say more and was stopping himself. He had to force it to move. He had to force the words to come out a little more honest. “My prescriptions are ‘as needed’ so I’m not skipping out on medicine I’m supposed to be taking. It’s just there if I need it. I don’t take the Ativan a lot. I haven’t even in months. Since before you moved in.”
He stumbled over the words, like they were unfamiliar in his mouth, but didn’t pause to give himself time to slow down.
“I’ve taken the Hydroxyzine a few times since you’ve been here. It’s like Benadryl. It’s just to sleep. But it’s harder to wake up from.” There had been a few mornings where Julian was particularly out of it, stumbling around as they got ready for school. Over the summer, he’d just slept in. He never made a big deal about it before, and now he was only worried because he wanted to reassure Riker–to deserve his trust.
“Sometimes I get stressed. That’s all. I didn’t need them last night. I wanted to be awake. I wanted to be able to check my phone. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be dramatic. I was trying to be responsible.”
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 10:14 am
Riker’s chest hurt in a way that had nothing to do with his ribs. Julian’s voice had gone soft again, as if he was confessing a crime instead of trying to reassure someone who loved him. He said he was fine, that he was responsible, that he was trying. He said all the things people say when they don’t want to be left alone, but don’t believe they get to ask to be held, either.
Riker didn’t look away this time. He couldn’t.
“Hey,” Riker said, softly but firmly, enough to break the string of apologies and reassurances and promises. “You don’t have to--” He stopped, because what was he even trying to say? You don’t have to apologize for existing? It resonated deeply with him. To be there, unwanted, in the way, trying desperately to both be wanted but not be a burden.
He let out a breath that trembled as it left him. “You don’t need to say sorry. You weren’t being dramatic. Your body isn’t being dramatic. You were trying to keep yourself safe.”
He didn’t move right then. He just watched Julian’s hands on the pillow, holding so tightly his knuckles were turning white, the way he seemed to shrink in on himself every time he said fine.
Riker’s heart ached.
His hand lifted like he might reach for Julian, but it faltered halfway. He wasn’t sure what would help. If touching him would make it worse or not. So he just let it drop again, fingers curling into the blanket between them.
“I know that kind of ‘responsible,’ Jules,” he continued after a moment. “It’s survival. It’s making sure no one has to take care of you. Making sure you don’t make anything worse. I used to call that being good, too.”
He let out a slow breath, trying to make his tone lighter and more steady. “It isn’t bad, Jules. I get it. I really do. But you don’t have to do that here. Especially not with me. You don’t have to control every single part of yourself so you don’t worry us.
His voice dropped again, small but earnest. “You already do enough by just being in our lives. You’re allowed to let your body be tired. You’re allowed to let yourself be scared. You don’t have to keep proving you deserve to rest. You don’t make things harder.”
He swallowed, his jaw working like he couldn’t quite get the next words out. When they came, they were raw and almost broken. “You mean more to me than you think. You always have. And I can’t-- I won’t let you keep disappearing into that space in your head where you think no one’s supposed to follow.”
He pushed himself up just enough to reach for Julian again, but once again he didn’t touch him, but instead rested his hand lightly on the blanket near his arm. Just a quiet promise that he was there and wasn’t going anywhere.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t have to earn being cared about. We’ll care about you, no matter what. Okay? You need to sleep. With or without the medicine. I’ll stay awake,” he insisted, conviction clear in his voice and in his eyes. “When you wake up, I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere.”
He knew the words were heavy, but they had to be in order to balance everything unsaid.
“You don’t have to earn your place,” he echoed what he’d previously said, but he had a feeling that Julian needed to hear things multiple times for them to stick. “You have a place with me. With us. You always will.”
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 10:15 am
Julian's breathing was heavier now, impossible to hide in the small room. It didn't help that his nose was stuffy, and breathing so deeply made everything smell like blood. He couldn't breathe through his mouth when his jaw was clenched so tightly.
He wouldn't have been able to look at Riker even if he'd been brave enough to try; his eyes were on their own mission. Scouring the room for something, anything. Pink–the Benadryl. Bright. The blankets, stacked perfectly, across the room. The television, a commercial selling a vacation package. His desk drawer, cracked open. Riker's guitar.
Riker was waiting for an answer. Julian wanted to give him one. Someone had taken all of the thoughts in his head and shook them up, and now he had to pick through the pile of words to figure out how to make a sentence with them.
He pushed his fingers into the pillow in his lap. Soft, stretchy. He felt the stiff wall against his back. Hard, smooth. The heated blanket. Warm, heavy. The one behind his neck. Firm, plush.
How many seconds had it been since Riker last spoke? He wasn't sure. Riker was still looking at him.
Could Riker hear his heartbeat as loudly as Julian did? He had to focus on that for a second. And then the distant buzz of someone mowing their yard. And then the soft–very soft–whispers from the television. They were smiling on screen. He couldn't make out what they were saying but he'd seen this episode a dozen times before, probably more. It ended on a smile. Whatever they were saying was something good.
His shoulders eased a bit, like some tension had lifted.
Riker was still waiting for an answer. Julian still couldn't remember his words.
He needed to focus. What more was there? The smell of detergent had been a pleasant companion all night. Competing with the smell of blood in his nose. It hadn't bled again but he was afraid of the next time he had to go blow it, so he'd simply settled with the stuffy discomfort.
Julian tasted blood, too. But that wasn't fresh, it just lingered on his tongue.
Those were bad answers.
If he opened the window, he'd smell fresh morning air. He wasn't going to get up, so he imagined it.
He imagined the taste of the banana, too. He'd eat something soon.
Had Riker eaten? No, probably not. There were no crumbs anywhere on him. He wouldn't have taken his time to eat downstairs. He would have gotten food and come up here, and probably decided he'd just have whatever Julian didn't.
He'd been quiet for a while but couldn’t guess how long. The silence started to feel like pressure but he didn't squirm.
"Sorry," Julian said. "I know." His eyes didn't find Riker's–not because he didn’t want to look, but because it felt too heavy to try. Instead, he moved his hand. It was a slow, timid gesture. His fingers ghosted against Riker's.
Several times already, Riker had reached out like he wanted to take Julian's hand. Each time, he stopped himself. Julian noticed–and appreciated the cautiousness. But Riker was stretching himself thin with worry. Julian's antics certainly weren't helping, and if he couldn't find the words he hoped he could at least find an action to buy a little time.
There didn't need to be a barrier between them. He was trying to take it down. There was just so much going on, and Julian was a creature of habit. Challenging the norm, the safety, the predictability, was well beyond his capabilities tonight.
But, he tried. Maybe it wasn't a very big, or very loud, gesture–none of Julian's ever were–but he tried to dissolve the distance between them. Even if it was just pinky to pinky, it was a connection–an invitation.
The words didn't come much easier, but they came a little faster than he'd thought they might.
"Thank you. For being so kind to me." Did Riker want to hear those things, too? He must. He'd been through so much. His mother had been so cruel to him. And Riker worked so–so–hard to try and make up for things he'd done. Big things, little things. He was always trying so hard to be good. And he was always so hard on himself. He'd worked harder than anyone to survive, and he'd accomplished so much.
But he looked so tired. Had he stayed up all night with Énna to watch over him, too?
Julian didn't need two pillows balled up in his lap. He could work with one.
Mindful of the one arm he was clearly resting, he shifted positions very slowly, very slightly, and separated their hands briefly so he could pass Riker another pillow. Their fingers met again right after.
"I did sleep," he promised. And he'd had several light, fitful naps, too. "I'll sleep more. Don't stay awake for me. You need rest, too. I can move if you need more room. I'm comfortable like this." He must not have looked it, but he was honest about it, in that nervous way he got when he was worried about criticism but spoke anyway. His voice was softer, mumbled. "I'm not trying to disappear anywhere, I'm trying to stay right here."
He chewed on the inside of his cheek, too hard, but said, "I want to be here. And I'm glad you're here, too."
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Posted: Fri Feb 06, 2026 10:15 am
Riker’s throat went tight. The light brush of Julian’s finger against his was barely there, but it felt heavy in his chest. He didn’t move for a moment, just stared at their hands. The smallest touch, but it said so much. Julian was trying.
He curled his pinky slowly, careful not to startle, just enough to hook against Julian’s. He didn’t need more than that. He wouldn’t take more than Julian was ready to give. The pillow was pulled into his lap, making sure Julian knew he wasn’t rejecting his offer.
“You don’t have to thank me for that,” Riker murmured, his voice barely audible, more breath than actual sound. “You don’t get kindness because you’ve earned it, Jules. You get it because you’re--” he faltered, then said, quieter, “--you.”
He glanced over Julian’s face again. He looked exhausted, like there was great effort in just trying to exist in his own body. The bruises made him look like he was fighting for something he wasn’t even sure he deserved to keep.
“I’m glad you want to be here,” Riker said softly. “But you don’t have to keep proving you belong.” He would say it as many times as he needed, he just hoped Julian would understand he was being sincere and not just trying to annoy him. “I see you trying, I really do. But you don’t have to do it alone.”
He swallowed. His ribs ached from holding his breath for too long, but he didn’t move.
“I know it’s hard,” he continued, his voice quiet and raw. “I know it’s hard to believe anyone means it when they say you’re safe. But you are. Right now. Here. You don’t have to keep pretending it’s easier alone. It took me a long time to understand that, too.”
He squeezed Julian’s pinky, just a small gesture to ground them both. He felt comfortable letting the silence linger a bit. There was never anything tense in the quiet that surrounded the two of them. It was just patient and gentle. Permission to breathe.
“If there’s something I can do that will make things easier for you, I’m here. I want to listen. Even if it’s nothing more than what you’re thinking about.”
He glanced down at their hands again, that small, persistent unease still whispering in the back of his head. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe…
Still, something in the way Julian spoke tied Riker’s stomach into knots. The way he spoke was too careful, like he was reciting something he’d been made to memorize, the way his breathing was heavier… with panic? Was he the cause?
“How long have you had those prescriptions?” The words slipped out before he could stop them. He braced himself, not for rejection, but for the way Julian always seemed to shrink inward at the first hint of scrutiny. It wasn’t defiance. It was defense. Survival. And that scared Riker more than the answer itself.
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