It's Tim's turn to look concerned, and he rolls onto his side, reaches over to rest his hand on Jacobi's arm, stroking gently with his thumb. It doesn't take much of a leap, even as foggy as his head is.
Jacobi shies away from his touch, from the words. "It's fine, Tim. I didn't have to kill him."
But he remembers scrubbing blood from his nails in the shower. He remembers the sounds that he made and the way Jon gripped him in the end. "Get some rest. We'll go to Jon when I'm a little more sober."
"Fucking slander," he mumbles, but it's almost a smile. It takes effort, and more pain, but he manages to roll onto his stomach to give his screaming back a break from the pressure and textures. His arm stays flopped off the bed, fingers brushing Jacobi's blanket. But he lets himself slip back into exhaustion, his next words a trailing mumble. "'m a bloody gentleman..."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
"I'm so sorry, Jacobi."
no subject
But he remembers scrubbing blood from his nails in the shower. He remembers the sounds that he made and the way Jon gripped him in the end. "Get some rest. We'll go to Jon when I'm a little more sober."
no subject
"Jacobi, listen. There wasn't another way it was going to end. Jon knew that. It's not. Your. Fault."
no subject
Of course it's his fault. He might not have been able to prevent this, but he was supposed to protect Jon. He failed him.
no subject
"Last one. Promise." Then he'll leave you to wallow, Jacobi, he just has to know. "Who...?"
no subject
no subject
"Want your bed back?"
no subject
no subject
no subject