nysalogs | Semi-closed

[ He does flinch, but he forces himself not to draw his arm away from her. He continues to look right at her, just so he doesn’t slip into the false belief that she might be lying to him. He knows better, but his mind is so quick to play tricks on him. ]

He did, though. He did take home away.

[ His eyebrows knit together, and he wonders how that thought managed to escape and become audible, but he can expand upon it with Claire. His voice grows quieter, like he’s afraid someone might have overheard, but he continues. ]

Winterfell was my home. Not…not really, but it was the closest I ever knew, and he destroyed it before the Storm ever could.

[ This is the first time he’s dared to name Winterfell as his home out loud, but he had a lot of time to think on the matter. He looks upset, but he manages not to fall apart entirely. ]

You want me there so I don’t do anything stupid, don’t you?

[The flinch is expected. That he stays, and doesn't pull away, means he's trying. She sees it. What he says doesn't come as a surprise to her, but it does make her chest ache, knowing he must have realized where home was long after the fact.]

You can have a new home. I'm sure you've figured out that it's the people that make a place home, not the walls. Jon and Sansa might not have been it before, but they can be now. There's a place for you.

[Winterfell was home because he grew up there, alongside his best friend. His only friend.

Some of the sadness leaves her eyes at his question. She probably shouldn't find it amusing, but her lips curve.]

Naturally. [She won't lie to him.] I don't want you to feel alone, or fear that you're going to slip backwards. I want to take care of you. Your hair, your teeth, your limp... I can fix these things, once you're stronger. It's going to be painful, and you're not going to have a good time, but what he did to your body can be mended. It's just... what he did to your mind, and your heart. Your soul, if you believe in such a thing--that will take the longest, and much of that is on you. But I'd like to do what I can, and if you were closer, you'd have an easier time of it.

When I first woke here, the four of us lived in the place you stay now. Robb, Jon, Sansa and I. Robb and I fought so constantly, people who lived nearby complained about us on the network. Sansa wanted nothing to do with me. Jon and I were as we often are.

[ There’s still a part of him that’s incredibly prideful, and he occasionally wonders what they said about him when he wasn’t within earshot, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. ]

They didn’t want me there, but I wanted to be there with them. I don't know why. Maybe because it reminded me of Winterfell.

[ Because whether either of them likes it or not, they are his family. Even Jon. He may act as though he paid half the family little notice, but he still knows as much about them as a brother should.

He sighs, his bones practically rattling in his skin. He would rather go back to arguing with Robb every day than go back to being Reek, and he would rather go back to being completely ignored by Sansa than feel more pain. ]

I don’t want to leave Maximus on his own.

[ Both of them are paranoid men who find it difficult to trust, but Maximus doesn’t need Theon half as much as Theon feels he needs Maximus. He’s trying to fill a void left by Robb, and since he trusts Maximus, that’s the friendship he chooses to cling to. That, and he remains unaware of his dislike of Claire. ]

[Because Theon seems to have found a friend in Max, Claire doesn't push. And it's why she doesn't make it known how Max seems to be intent on disliking her when she's made it clear as day that she's not interested in being his enemy.]

Then all I can ask is that you come visit. Spend the night, now and then. Things are different now, for all of us, but I would never force you to leave your friend.

[All right, she can't resist making a remark with a quirk of her lips:]

I'm sure it'd make Maximus happy if he had to see less of me.

[ He thinks for a moment. They’ve all changed. Robb is gone, Sansa is older and wiser, and neither he or Jon have the energy to bicker as they once did. He doesn’t look forward to experiencing more pain just to set himself right, but he trusts Claire as well. Hesitantly, he nods. ]

Aye. In time.

[ But he does blink at her second comment. Maximus doesn’t trust easily, but he’s vaguely surprised to hear of any problems. ]

Has he been unhappy?

[In time. That's about the best response she could hope for. It makes her smile, though it dims when he asks if Max has been unhappy.

Well, at least she knows their bickering hasn't reached his ears.]

Quite. He's dead-set on not getting along with me, but that's all right. Can't be everyone's favorite, can I?

[She tends to step on toes wherever she goes. It only bothers her now because of Theon. The few people he chooses to surround himself with should get along.]

[ He just doesn’t want to hurt for a time. He’s always in pain, whether it’s the poorly healed wounds stretched across his chest, or poorly healed bones, or his teeth, but he wants to be free of anything new, just for a little bit.

Max’s unhappiness is news to him, though. They’ve barely spoken since Theon arrived home. Maximus helped to calm him down, helped to reassure him that Ramsay wouldn’t be invited into their home, but then Claire took over. ]

I suppose not.

[ He frowns, though, looking genuinely concerned. He knows how Maximus gets sometimes, and he never considered that he might be uncomfortable with someone intruding into his life. ]

I didn’t think this would upset. He doesn’t have to look after me if someone else already is.

Don't worry about it too much. [She says, seeing the look on his face.] We're all adults, and he does understand why I'm here.

[He's just eager for her to be out of his space. His tune might be different if she wasn't around at all, and if he were indeed the sole person looking out for Theon now, but there's still time for him to figure that out.]

But I will go, after this week. At least in the evenings. I'm sure you'll appreciate the break from me, too.

[A gentle tease. Theon doesn't hate her company, she knows what much.]

Regardless of Max, whenever you need me, or want me, I'll come. I promise. You come before anyone else.

[ It’s hard for him not to worry. He worries about every creak of the floorboards. Not worrying about angering one of the few people he trusts is a chore, to say the least. A week is a long time, especially to ask of Maximus, but Theon knows he needs the help. He can’t bring himself to go out alone just yet, and Maximus has the shop to run. ]

You’re not as irritating as you once were.

[ He mumbles the response, looking down at his gloved hands. It’s a sweet sentiment wrapped in awkward words. He’s grateful for her company and for her help, so much so that he thinks he might even miss it when she leaves. It's his way of expressing that. ]

[Maybe you're not the devil after all.

Claire smiles, looking down at his gloved hands as well. Of all the relationships she's had in this city, this is the one that's been the most frustrating--and the one that's seen the most growth and improvement.]

Nor are you.

[And not just because he's had his spirit broken.]

Maybe one day Maximus will feel the same.

[ That earns the ghost of his smile once again, just a small tug at the corner of his mouth. He knows he’s always been a difficult person, an incredibly stubborn person, but he wouldn’t have survived this long if he weren’t. ]

Maybe.

[ He doesn’t think so. He and Maximus are similar: paranoid to the point of being almost unwilling to trust, but Theon has been starved for love and acceptance. Then again, perhaps Maximus has been too. ]

It isn’t as though you’ve tried to jab him with a needle, after all.

Very funny. [Maximus likely wouldn't let her come within a foot of him with a needle in hand. He already eyed the food she made with intent to share with him as if she put something nefarious in it.]

I won't let anyone know that's the secret to getting into your good graces, though.

[She's actually not sure what the secret was--persistence, perhaps. She could see that, before at least, his personality didn't really give much incentive for people to stick around.]

[ Claire’s persistence certainly helped. You can’t continue to push someone away when they simply won’t give up. It’s something Theon needed all along: someone who wouldn’t give up on him despite that hard to swallow personality. ]

You won’t have to do any of that now, will you?

[ He looks uncertain. He already knows to expect a lot of pain and one jab of a needle is less than he's known in recent days, but he’s seen so much blood. He’s lost so much blood. The less he has to see now, the better. ]

No. No needles, darling. [She doesn't need his blood. And even if she did, she'd push it off as long as possible.]

I don't need to draw blood. Are you worried about that?

[ He hesitates. There’s still that part of him that doesn’t want to appear weak, but that’s something that’s nearly impossible now. He’s grown so frail and so frightened, jumping at his own shadow. The thought of more blood shouldn’t bother him, but it does.

He shrugs, trying to downplay his worries just a little bit. ]

No.

[ But he can’t make that seem particularly believable. ]

I’ve just seen a lot of blood as of late. That’s all.

[His own blood. She can only imagine was it was like, gaining the injuries he has now.]

I can promise you that anything that needs to be done, you won't see blood. [He'll probably (hopefully) be out for the things that will require some clean up: his teeth. He'll be in a miserable state after, and that's saying something. He'll either be staying with her, Jamie, and Sansa, or she'll be grating on Max's nerves once more.]

I've been fixing bodies longer than you've been alive. I'm going to do everything in my power to make this... tolerable, and I know how to do that well. You've suffered enough for one lifetime. I'm not going to inflict any more, or let you wallow in it. Understood?

[ He doesn’t know what it is to not be miserable. He doesn’t strive for happiness anymore, he doesn’t strive for acceptance. Now he would just like to be left untormented.

He looks uncertain, frightened, but he gives a hesitant nod to show that he understands. Claire seems to think that these things need to be done and that they’ll help in the long run. ]

What…what are you going to have to do, then?

[She was hoping he'd not ask that. Not right now, at least. Reluctance paints her features, but after taking a breath, she explains.]

Well. Those teeth aren't doing you much good as they are. I think it's best if they come out. [Just what he wants to hear. Claire's quick to add:] That will be the worst of what needs to be done. And I'll medicate you well enough that you won't be awake for it. Everything else will just take time. Stretching out the parts that healed incorrectly, and getting strength back.

But only when you're ready. I'm not going to force you into any of this, Theon.

[ He knows he shouldn’t ask, but he thinks he would rather know than be left in the dark. Maybe he can gather the courage to endure it—but what she says only drains his face of what little color it had to begin with.

He falls silent, running his tongue over the jagged splinters that remain of his teeth. They’re painful, and she’s right, they aren’t doing him much good, but he manages. Isn’t that enough? He still feels pain, even when he’s asleep. He closes his eyes, his expression pinched. ]

It’s…enough. He left me with enough. I can still eat.

[ He’s clearly frightened and trying to come up with excuses. He can hardly eat at all. ]

You can eat, but I know it's painful. [God forbid he bite his tongue or lip on accident. Those teeth will draw more unwanted attention than no teeth at all, and with so much physical discomfort. Gently, she rubs his arm, as if she could warm some courage back into him.]

It's scary, but I do believe you'll feel so much better once it's done. I don't know how long you've been living this way, but it's not something you need to endure any longer, Theon. Theon doesn't have to live like this.

[She tries to laugh, but it's more like a breath of air.]

... and if it's because you really enjoy my concoctions, I can find occasions to still make your meals.

[Meals that have been mostly liquid and sprinkled with vitamins and such. After seeing how thin he is beneath his clothing, she's glad she's been cautious when it comes to his menu.]

[ The sound of his name snaps him back away from the edge of that dark place again; the place where he defends what’s been done to him, or tries to make it seem just a little bit better than it really is.

For a brief moment, he considers telling her that he doesn’t enjoy her concoctions, but he’s learned not to complain. He was starved for too long, he’s eaten rats, and any food that he doesn’t retch back up is better than nothing at all. He doesn’t have the humor to tell her anyway.

As he stares back down at his gloved hands, he quietly mumbles: ]

I don’t want to live at all.

[ It isn’t about his teeth. Even if Claire can relieve his physical pain, he’s still in constant fear and emotional pain. He still feels guilty for the things he’s done, and he still has’t found a way to free himself from that prison. ]

I never asked to, but I’m craven if I don’t. After all of this, I'm still craven if I don't carry on.

[The words are a knife, but a familiar one. He's not surprising her. It simply hurts to hear. It's never something she'd want for him.]

We'll make it easier to carry on, then.

[She steps closer, and if he doesn't move back, he'll be caught with a kiss to the forehead while he's busy looking down at his hands.]

I'm not giving up on you, Theon. I still think you can live a decent life.

[ He wishes he could go home. He wishes he could dwell in Winterfell alone with the ghosts until the Storm sweeps them all away. Maybe then he’ll finally see the Drowned God’s watery halls.

I did what was asked of me, he thinks miserably. I saved the girl. The other Theon saved Sansa. I’m of no use to anyone else. Why shouldn’t I just be allowed to stop existing?

He flinches only slightly at the contact, but he doesn’t move back. He just furrows his eyebrows and keeps his eyes downcast. ]

I wish I could apologize. Not just to Robb.

[ To those boys, to their mother, to Bran and Rickon. He has a growing list. ]

[He's paid for any crimes he's committed in his short life, but she understands there's a difference between a punishment and an apology. Wanting to apologize.]

I know. I'd forgive you for it all if I could, but it's not my place.

[It wouldn't mean anything.]

[ He gives a meek shrug, but he understands. Jon has already tried to offer forgiveness, and so has Sansa, but it just isn’t enough to feel any sort of real relief. ]

I know.

[ If only it were that easy. He closes his eyes again, trying to keep his breathing even. ]

I’m sorry. For saying all of this. I shouldn't have.

[ He wishes he could hide behind his smile the way he used to. ]

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