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[mrballisticsdummy]

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[statementfuckingends]

"At least you know you're supposed to," he comments wryly, resting both palms on the bench behind him and drumming his fingers quietly on the cupboards beneath. He needs a moment to think of the right words.

"...Maxwell was important, Jacobi. To you and Warren. I don't think he'd replace her, but. Well, it's not a hard conclusion to draw, from the outside. You're allowed to be mad."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"It would break his fucking heart if I said those words to him. Because she is important."

He stands up and takes out a carton of orange juice. If he can't have a mimosa, then he'll make a screwdriver.

"Anyway, that's just - the start of it. He got hurt in the library for, again, saving someone else. The lesser Daniel, actually. I caught the tail end of it. Would have killed him if Warren hadn't just been the big, damn hero. At least this time, I - I was there to save his stupid ass."

[statementfuckingends]

"Christ." He turns back to the food again, but he doesn't hide the look of concern as he does. Partly because he always feels a bit guilty for using his warden item. "I heard part of it when I was with Jon - on my walkie? Nearly gave me a heart attack hearing you in the middle of it all."

He glances over his shoulder, just idly. "I'm glad you got to get him out this time."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Yeah," he says with a long breath out. "I - don't know what I'd do if I lost him twice."

Just because he comes back here doesn't mean anything. It's not the same. Seeing him burned and in so much pain...

Jacobi's a little heavy handed as he pours the vodka.

"Sorry you had to hear it."

[statementfuckingends]

He shakes his head, mostly for Jacobi to see. "Don't be. It meant you were around to worry about."

He takes a breath, trying to keep it quiet despite himself, but his voice still wavers a bit when he adds, "At least you guys got out okay. It's more than I was hoping."

[mrballisticsdummy]

He pauses there, taking the half step closer to Tim and just pulling him into a tight embrace.

[statementfuckingends]

Tim lurches slightly with the hug, not expecting it, but there's no real hesitation before he wraps his arms around Jacobi and squeezes back. His breath is shaking when he takes a deep breath, but he's just glad for the contact.

[mrballisticsdummy]

He holds him for a moment and then steps back, clearing his throat. "So. Thanks for playing Dear Abby."

[statementfuckingends]

"Yeah, we're not done yet." He sniffs as he turns around to check the bacon, and starts pouring the pancake mix on them. "But that can at least wait until after you've got some food in you. You look like you're gonna pass out."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"I'm not sick or anything," he tells him. "I've been eating kinda." He takes another drink of his screwdriver. "I just - haven't been sleeping well."

[statementfuckingends]

"Orange pulp in your mimosas doesn't count and you know it," he scolds lightly. "And I could have figured that, you're going to bleed coffee if I cut you."

He pulls out a plate to flip some pancakes clear of the heat. "Which means you've got way too much on your mind right now, so we'll keep talking until you can pass out."

[mrballisticsdummy]

Jacobi groans. "I don't - that was just the easy shit, Tim."

He takes another drink. "And you - are you sure you're up for this anyway?"

[statementfuckingends]

He looks back over his shoulder to give Jacobi another Look. "Are you really gonna try using me as an excuse this time? I'm doing..."

Ugh, he can't lie to Jacobi. "Alright, well. Not fine, but. I can handle this. Still easier than the Circus."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Three root canals and being raked over coals is easier than the Circus," he reminds him. "That doesn't mean anything."

[statementfuckingends]

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, as he scoops the last pancakes out and turns the heat off again.

"It's just, um. Different. The Circus was just... pain. Fear. It wasn't..." He presses both hands onto the counter to stop them shaking when he thinks about it. "I could feel Jon's... everything, getting burned up. It wasn't just hurting him, it was-- destroying him."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Yeah."

He puts his hand on the small of Tim's back, just for a moment, as he takes a drink and brings down the plates.

"He told me what happened. We - talked a bit after."

[statementfuckingends]

"Good to hear. He wasn't in much of a state for it when I left him."

And he still feels like he shouldn't have. He knows he would have gone mental doing nothing, but it still felt like abandoning him.

"How was he with you?"

[mrballisticsdummy]

Jacobi goes quiet, swirling his drink around in the glass. "Weird. He was burning up first, then settled. And - " He snorts. "He could hear Maxwell in my fucking head. So they had a whole conversation."

[statementfuckingends]

"...that is weird. What the fuck." He'd never really thought about it, but it made sense that he could. Especially if he wasn't in any state to filter any of it. "How'd that go, then?"

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Very fucking weird," he admits. "Especially because he argued with her. And spoke directly to her. No thanks."

He sniffs, taking a long drink. "Anyway, he was miserable. He could tell I was miserable. And he's still trying to talk me down."

[statementfuckingends]

"I mean, it's not exactly a secret that this is a prime situation for you to go nuclear," he points out, and sits next to Jacobi after he's put the dishes in to soak. "All the harm to Jon's pretty much done, but we're still gonna be hurting for a while after the fact."

[mrballisticsdummy]

"Yeah," he says because how can he not? He can't exactly dispute the fact that he's losing his mind with this. "I'm starting to think that there's no point in - trying to help people. Stupid as that sounds. But I've never - had control of things. And it really sucks here."

[statementfuckingends]

"Yeah." Because, same. "It's... frustrating, sometimes. Helping people is a constant effort. Never really looks like there's any progress when you're always picking someone up from their worst. Especially when people target them specifically."

[mrballisticsdummy]

He frowns. "Hey. You help me. Obviously, because I haven't blown this goddamn ship apart."

[statementfuckingends]

"Exactly," he comments dryly. "And you've got to agree that it's not exactly a one-and-done thing. Every time you start getting an itchy trigger finger, I'm there to help talk you through it."

He spears a pancake with a fork, but doesn't make much effort to do more. "But that's the point, isn't it. If I didn't, we'd both be worse off. My best friend going and killing people without remorse, getting the people he cares about hurt, again, because I didn't put in the effort to talk him down."