[There's a part that, awfully, sickeningly, cringes back when Quentin approaches, a flinch that Koby can't quite control, not when he's this tired, not when there's blood and fire and salt in his mind. A shuddery inhale, and Koby's opening his mouth to say everything's fine, he's being stupid, he's being ridiculous, he's sorry to disturb, he'll go back to his room where he belongs.
That's not what he says, though, because Quentin scoops him up, easy and effortless, warm and solid and real, real, like a scourging fire that sears away the ghosts in Koby's head, and his arms are up and around Quentin's neck, clinging on with all the strength in his shivery muscles, and he makes a sobbing sound of relief as everything inside him goes quiet. It's impossible to speak, for that moment, too dizzy with relief to articulate what's happening, what's happened.
But Quentin asks, and Koby shakes his head, quickly, realizing what it must look like, how it must seem.] N-Nothing, nothing happened, it's just -- dreams, they were just dreams. [It comes out too shuddery, too choked-off, and he's crying again, because of course he is. Because he's crybaby good-for-nothing Koby and that's what he does. One hand pulls away, swipes furiously at his eyes, at the tears that well up and keep welling, streaking down his already teary face.] Just dreams.
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That's not what he says, though, because Quentin scoops him up, easy and effortless, warm and solid and real, real, like a scourging fire that sears away the ghosts in Koby's head, and his arms are up and around Quentin's neck, clinging on with all the strength in his shivery muscles, and he makes a sobbing sound of relief as everything inside him goes quiet. It's impossible to speak, for that moment, too dizzy with relief to articulate what's happening, what's happened.
But Quentin asks, and Koby shakes his head, quickly, realizing what it must look like, how it must seem.] N-Nothing, nothing happened, it's just -- dreams, they were just dreams. [It comes out too shuddery, too choked-off, and he's crying again, because of course he is. Because he's crybaby good-for-nothing Koby and that's what he does. One hand pulls away, swipes furiously at his eyes, at the tears that well up and keep welling, streaking down his already teary face.] Just dreams.