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[mrballisticsdummy]

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[statementfuckingends]

He takes a swig, still lying on his back; but the burn makes him cough, unexpected and sensitive and he sputters it back out as he curls up on one side, bracing himself with a hand on the wall and heaves, dry and useless but painful.

[mrballisticsdummy]

Jacobi takes the bottle back and pulls it away. "Stop that," he mutters. "Don't push yourself. You need to sit still. Even if I have to look at your sort of naked self."

[statementfuckingends]

Tim doesn't resist - he's shaking now, from the sudden exertion, and he lets himself flop onto his back again. One hand reaches blindly for the blanket, and at least pulls it over his hips so Jacobi's delicate constitution is spared.

His eyes flicker shut as he breathes through the pain, and it's a few breaths before he opens his eyes to half-squint at Jacobi.

"'m sorry."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"If it hurts, leave it off," he tells him. "I really don't fucking care."

He rests his head on the bed beside him. "Are you sorry for what? Making the most annoying domain?"

[statementfuckingends]

That gets a slightly wheezy huff. "Little bit. Wasn't great."

He closes his eyes and lets his head rest straight again. "Shouldn't've asked."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Asked what?" he wonders, closing his eyes before picking up the bottle again to take another drink.

[statementfuckingends]

"The detonator." It's less of a word and more of a breath, a tired exhale, and he lifts a hand to run it through his filthy hair. "I could've... could've kept going. Gotten you out. Done..." What could he have done there, when he doesn't even know fully what he did, just flashes of coherency in a nightmare of calliope music and screams. "...something."

[mrballisticsdummy]

He shakes his head. "No, Tim. That's what I do. Who else would do it?"

Jacobi breaks. He breaks and he destroys.

At least he could help someone this time.

[statementfuckingends]

Tim's breathing hitches, just quietly, because he knows.

He Knew.

No-one else there could have done it. None of them would even have been able to know what they were searching for. And Tim couldn't, not when he was running the show. It's just a miracle that Jacobi still had the Hunt left in him.

His breathing becomes shallower, faster, and he lets his hand slip down to cover his face again.

"Wasn't fair to make you."

[mrballisticsdummy]

He reaches up and gently trails fingertips across Tim's hand. He knows he's raw. He knows he's hurting.

"Tim. I forced you to tell me. I forced it. I remember that."

[statementfuckingends]

His hand tenses at the touch, but he doesn't pull away.

"'s'not how that worked. I was... i-it was Stranger, but. Eye, too. Had to make sure you... you saw what it was, to fear it right." The long sentences are hard, leave him breathless, but he needs Jacobi to understand. "I don't... dunno how you tapped it, but. Stranger, Eye, not as far apart as y'think. Ritual was never gonna work, was it Gertrude, you... y'need to Know t'know...what you're looking at is wrong."

His hand lifts, muscles trembling, and rests on Jacobi's. "You couldn't hurt me, not. Not like that. Told you 'cos I wanted to."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"No. That's what Jon said. But I could have not pushed. I could have backed off. But you needed it. I know you well enough to know what you wanted, even when I didn't know a damn thing."

He lets his fingers rest lightly against his hand.

[statementfuckingends]

His next breath is more of a wheeze, hoarse from all that talking. Sore on every point that touches a blanket, touches Jacobi. But he stays still, and there's nearly another faint smile.

"Yeah. You could've." A deeper breath, that calms the following ones down a bit more. "I'm... glad you didn't."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Yeah, I know," he says and closes his eyes again, folding his arms underneath him.

He doesn't want to talk about what he did. He doesn't even remember how he did it.

He doesn't want to talk about how right it felt in that moment.

"I have something for your skin if you want it," he murmurs. "I know you're not really burned anymore, but it might make it feel better."

[statementfuckingends]

He shakes his head gently, and immediately groans softly with regret.

"Won't help. Not yet. Not gonna be able t'put it on."

One eye's easier to open, so he cracks apart his fingers and looks at Jacobi through the gap.

"'m'alright, Daniel. Just... hurts."

[mrballisticsdummy]

Jacobi isn't actually getting up. He's staying right where he is. "Okay," he mutters. "I'm gonna stay right here with you."

He has been by his side most of the time and he doesn't plan on stopping now.

"I'm sorry my last words to you were so shitty."

[statementfuckingends]

That almost gets a laugh. Another soft huff.

"'s'not last words if I come back. 's'just... a shitty 'see you later'." He sighs softly. "Mine t'Jon were, 'I don't forgive you'."

[mrballisticsdummy]

Jacobi does laugh at that. "You came back. Here. Here counts But - you can hold a grudge better than anyone I've ever met."

[statementfuckingends]

That makes Tim laugh, and it hurts but it's almost the good kind.

"Lots of practice. Wouldn't have made it as far as I did if I couldn't."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"I guess," he laughs. "But you're giving me a run for my money. And you were wrong about Jon."

It hurts to talk about him, though. About last words and goodbyes. So he moves on.

"Have you forgiven me for getting your arm broken yet?"

[statementfuckingends]

"You kidding?" he breathes through another laugh. "Gonna use that in my wedding speech. First time I met you, got you t'swoon about plastic explosives, a week later your homemade Terminator broke my arm and locked me up with a teenage corpse."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"You should," he laughs. "I'll toast to that. It also - definitely sounds like all of the other stories people would share about me."

He sits up but only decides to take another drink.

[statementfuckingends]

His own laugh fades off a little, but the growing, weak smile on his face is still fond.

"'s'part of being an older brother. You get a special area of your brain dedicated to the shit your family gets up to, s'you can shame 'em later."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"That's probably why my parents decided not to have another kid," he murmurs. "They knew I wouldn't make a good older brother."

Says the man who exudes little brother energy.

cw canon typical clowns

[statementfuckingends]

"Used t'think I was a pretty good one, 'fore everything."

Before he couldn't protect him the one time it turned out to matter.

And an image flashes in his mind - unbidden, unwanted, forced upon him by Elias. Of being in Danny's eyes, looking up in pain and fear and incomprehension at the clown with its hands under his skin.

Tim's mouth presses tightly shut, and he covers his eyes again. His other hand turns and grips Jacobi's to keep it from trembling.

"God..."