singillatim | why not give it a try, be a beautiful monstrosity

"It's okay," he assures him, helping him sit up a little. Wrapping an arm around him to steady him, maybe try to warm him a bit. "I don't exactly know what happened, but things seem to be getting back to normal.

God, you're frozen. How long have you been out here? We should try to get you back to your cabin, get those stoves going. Do you feel like you can walk?" He can probably carry him, if absolutely necessary. Or at the very least, let Alan lean on him for the walk back.

Under usual circumstances, Scratch would find Darling's eagerness to help unappealing. But he can't deny that, right now, he needs the help, and it's probably ideal that Darling's the one who's come along. This can turn into something useful once he's this chill is out of his bones.

"I don't know."

That's true, at least, but it can't have been too long. There's still some movement left in his muscles as he pushes himself up to standing (with some assistance by leaning on Darling).

"I think I did some horrible things."

"I know," Darling says, understandingly. He gets Alan's arm around his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his waist to help hold him up.

"But it isn't your fault. Everyone was -- muddled, these past few weeks. You weren't in your right mind. But things seem to have calmed down, I think."

He nods, leaning into Darling, unsure how much he's putting on an act and how much he really needs the support. His fingers flex a little as he tries to combat the numbness settling into them.

"Let's hope everyone else is as forgiving as you."

If it comes to that. The town is effectively lawless, but everyone's staked themselves so high on their pedestals that he's sure people will be unimpressed. Still, Darling's right. It was a collective frenzy, and condemnation for things beyond one's control also poses a threat to the Kind Neighbour vibe everyone is hiding behind.

Thinking about it right now makes his head hurt. The sun's too bright. Scratch keeps his head down as they move.

"I've had ... Anger issues. A history of them. But I never wanted to do anything like this."

"I read a few things," he says, his tone even and free of judgement. He'd read up on Alan a little, after the Bright Falls AWE. A casual glance at the tabloids now and again, but nothing in depth. He'd had other cases at the time.

But the situation at the House, well. That's intriguing. He'd been working on a list of questions to ask, but now isn't the time.

"What matters now is that you're okay. Once we get back to your cabin, I'll get the stoves going and we'll make sure you're in tip top shape."

Scratch nods. Darling's vague familiarity of Alan is enough for Scratch to sell that he's the real thing without having to fit the exact Alan mold. It's an ideal situation.

His arm goes around Darling as they walk, holding him tight like he's some sort of lifeline (this is absolutely performative). Alan's just a frail writer, after all.

"Are you okay?"

"Been better," he says, honestly. "But I've also been worse, so. I'm just glad things seem to have calmed down and maybe we can get a chance to rest and recover before the next major catastrophe happens."

Once they're back at Alan's cabin, Darling gets him settled on the sofa, wrapping a blanket firmly around his shoulders, rubbing at his arms a little to get some circulation back into them. He goes about stocking the stove with wood to get things warmed up.

"Once your base temperature is back up a bit, we'll make sure you don't have any numb spots that need attending to."

He's not going to complain about being doted on. He loves when people focus on him, so rather than fuss, he lets Darling wrap him up. Thankfully the living room stove is huge and should get heat going quickly, and there's a reasonable pile of wood still.

"You're just asking for an inappropriate comment."

Scratch huddles himself up on the sofa, continuing to flex his fingers and toes to try and help himself out.

"I did walk myself into that, didn't I? But I'd rather make sure all your appendages are still attached, first."

Once Alan seems less solidly frozen, Darling tips his chin up, checking his nose and cheeks for any redness or blistering. Then his hands, rubbing at Alan's fingers to get some circulation back into them. "Any numbness anywhere?"

He lets Darling examine him, admittedly relieved that it doesn't seem like he's any worse for wear.

"Mostly hands and feet. My legs feel like there are thousands of little pin-pricks."

Scratch leans in a bit.

"Did I say already that I'm glad it's you who found me?"

"That makes sense. Hands and feet lose feeling first, so that blood can circulate around the organs to keep them warm. Pins and needles are to be expected while you're thawing. I'm not seeing anything too concerning right now. Your fingers are a little red, but I wouldn't worry about that."

Darling settles next to Alan on the sofa, massaging his hand and over his fingers to work some feeling back into them. "I'm very glad I found you, too," he agrees, quietly. Maybe a little shy.

While Scratch can't complain about the attention - both medical and otherwise - he hates the idea of tenderness. It's annoying and it's tedious, but desperate times, desperate measures. Honestly, it's not much different than the plans he has for Alice.

Darling's really just a test drive.

Scratch draws his hand free so he can unwrap himself from the blanket, only to drape the other end around Darling so they are wrapped up together.

"Today or in general?" he asks, letting a vague smile cross his face as he presses a kiss to Darling's cheek.

Exasperating.

Oh, well that's rather nice, actually. Darling tucks up against Alan, tugging the blanket a bit to drape it around the both of them. For warmth, of course.

And fuck it, because it's nice. Because he hasn't cuddled with anyone in a long damn while.

"In general. I find you fascinating. Not because you're an author, I don't -- " He waves a hand a little, dismissing the idea that Alan is interesting because he writes books. Darling's written a book, it's not that interesting to him. "Doesn't matter. I'm sure they're very nice books, but I haven't read most of them."

He's skating around things. Alan doesn't know about his work, which is as it should be. The FBC isn't meant to operate in the public eye. But how do you tell someone that you've researched them? It feels like an awkward topic to just dive into.

He can tell Darling is beating around the bush about something. So Darling's not a book fan, maybe he's one the conspiracy people. Easy enough to coax him into admission.

"They're not really that great," he says, like he's telling his own silly secret. "If you're talking about what happened at Cauldron Lake, you can tell me."

Edited 2024-07-02 05:10 (UTC)

"Ah." Darling has the distinct look of someone caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"That is what I'm talking about, yes. My research pertains to paranatural events. Things that the human mind struggles to comprehend. I myself specialize in alternate dimensions, psychic abilities.

So that is how I know about you. About what you can do. And what you can do is... incredible." He sounds awed, admiring. Not unlike some of Alan's other fans, perhaps, but for an entirely different reason. "I mean, to be able to shift reality, even for a short amount of time is -- well, I'm jealous, really."

It's a good thing Darling isn't still holding Scratch's hand to work some feeling back into it, otherwise Scratch would break Darling's own hand at those words. Alan? Incredible? Incredibly moronic, maybe. And that tone in Darling's voice...

Scratch takes in a deep breath through his nose and rubs the back of his neck, recomposing himself.

"I mean, I don't know if it's that - I'm sure you understand it all a lot better than I do. I don't really know how it happens."

Because, again Alan is not incredible. He's stupid and a means-to-an-end.

"I don't really want it to happen. But it'd probably be nice if I could do it here."

"I had wondered about that. I had heard murmurs that such things weren't possible here, but hadn't spoken to anyone about it.

I apologize, that's not really how I meant to tell you, I just -- " Darling sighs and rubs at his eyes under his glasses. "I was getting edgy. Worried that you might think our friendship had begun only because I like your books. And I wanted to assure you that I think you're so much more than all that."

"Instead, our friendship began because you think what I can do is incredible," he quotes, with a bit of an edge to his tone.

All of this praise about Alan is making his skin crawl. He thinks, briefly, what it would be like to show Darling what he thinks about people who fawn over Alan, but, no. He has to switch gears.

"I hope you're not going to try and get a blood sample." Scratch leans back in a bit. His voice has taken a playfully flirtatious quality instead of the annoyance seeping in earlier. "I'd be a terrible lab rat."

why not give it a try, be a beautiful monstrosity

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