[ well, surprise!!!! he is in fact in town!!! he's in your pharmacy!!!!
darius doesn't even take his change at first - he's squinting at the person in purple across the room. therion can feel his gaze on him, and worse, he can hear sushang like she's talking to him through water - you are here to see him. he's almost banking on darius not recognizing him, now, because he feels his chest absolutely clench at the terrifying idea of him making that connection. he should leave. he should run. he should ignore sushang and turn around, and hightail it directly out of this city, as far away as humanly possible.
but the thing is, in a moment like this, therion's pride wins every time. he doesn't want darius to see him running like a cockroach uncovered from a rock. his shoulders roll backwards, and with his heart pounding and his fists clenched, he regards sushang with a smile. not unusual - he often greets her with a completely fake, friendly persona, just because he thinks its funny to make jiaoqiu cringe. ]
Think I got it. Thanks.
[ though it's definitely not as well practiced as usual. his tongue feels too big for his mouth.
he doesn't move right away, and he doesn't have to. the guy at the counter makes a low noise. his voice picks up a different timber, going from a genuine lack of recognition to something that feels almost... delighted? but the connotation's all wrong. "Well, hang me. Ain't that a coincidence? Therion, that you?"
fuck. he turns, finally, properly, and for the first time in years, he's eye to eye with darius. he's clenching his fists so hard in his pockets that he's drawing blood with his nails, his expression forced into nonchalance despite the fact that he's about to vibrate out of this plane of existence. if you didn't know him, you'd never be able to tell. (and that's the problem, is two people in this room, do.
or. one of them thinks he does, at least.) ] Darius. [ he says, tightly, giving a curt nod.
darius looks him over - up, down. "Gordon Bennet, I thought you'd be dead by now. Ain't grown an inch, have you? This your haunt?"
all therion does is snort, the noise sharp, his voice low, and says: ] No, it's not. [ but it's not enough of an answer. he knows its a mistake, because darius isn't stupid, and the spreading smile of interest on his face is enough to prove it.
in the meantime, jiaoqiu even from a distance has to be able to tell that therion is wildly uncomfortable, that he's about to fucking bolt - it's not an unfamiliar expression. ]
well. jiaoqiu doesn't like this. his fur stands on end, as he watches darius approach therion, as he sees the clear discomfort in therion's posture. he can hear the conversation clearly, his ears twitching.
sushang watches the two of them for a second, and then glances over at jiaoqiu, who looks like he's about to climb the counter, and puts her hands on her hips.
"Is this guy bothering you?" she asks, completely clueless, just in time for jiaoqiu to very pointedly slam the door to his office behind him. she startles, looking up, as jiaoqiu makes his way over and starts arranging things on the shelves. he doesn't say anything and he doesn't look at either of them, but his presence is loud. for all that jiaoqiu can melt into nothing, there's still a part of him that used to be an advisor during the peak of war. there's a sort of danger to him that wasn't there before - not a rattlesnake, but a brightly colored frog, confident in its place. he doesn't have the muscle to intimidate, but he doesn't need it - there's an abyss inside him waiting to leak out, there's a curdling and rancid fire, made from burnt oil and melted plastic, waiting to strike. this is his pharmacy. it is not an invitation to linger. it's a suggestion to leave.
he knows better than to imply that he knows therion. even if it is obvious - he's practically bristling, protective, putting boxes down aggressively. ]
don't overreact. don't overreact. don't let him know that you care, don't let him know anything, don't show him anything. darius regards him for a second, and he's about to say something when sushang speaks up, and then the door slams. both therion and darius, in perfect unison, jump - both trained to be just as high alert, both used to living the same shitty life, that just happened two be intertwined, and darius glances behind him as therion stares at the slammed door. ]
...No. [ therion says, after a moment, and the sardonic lace to his tone is something like self-deprecating, something sharp. all edges, all teeth. ] No, he's not.
[ "Nah." says darius in response, too, turning slowly away from the pink figure loudly stacking boxes - staring after jiaoqiu for a moment too long, one that makes the hair on the back of therion's neck stand up - and then slowly turning back. "We go way back - just been a proper minute since I saw this tea leaf scarperin' around. I won't tread on your manor, Therion."
that rankles him even worse - all those feelings of dread curdle violently in his stomach, and he feels the bite of his nails into his palm to keep him here. his manor. his turf. the worst part is he doesn't even know which part he's referring to. it might be the place. it might be jiaoqiu. the assumption either way is a bad sign.
darius adjusts his bag, and doffs an imaginary hat to sushang. "Tell your boss I said hope he's feelin' better, birdie. And, Therion - hah. Maybe you can give me a butcher 'round. Just like old times, eh?" ]
Pass. [ he says, sharply. no, the last thing he wants to do is give darius a fucking tour. the other thief gives him a long look, and then - whistling a tune that's downright jaunty, he heads out of the door with a cheerful ding like he didn't just walk in and send therion's entire life crashing down with a couple of sentences, with his very presence in this room.
and as he's gone, therion doesn't even move, at first, just sort of staring after him, his heart pounding so hard he can feel the blood roaring in his ears. ]
[ she's a good girl she tries her best!! she has NO idea what the fuck is going on, but she can feel the tension and she's on edge. she watches darius saunter his way out of the pharmacy with a scowl, folding her arms across her chest.
"Wow, he seems like a jerk," she says, glancing over at jiaoqiu - and there's a pause, before she continues: "... I'm going to go make sure he didn't mess anything up. Call me if you need me, okay?"
and then she wanders off, leaving jiaoqiu and therion alone.
jiaoqiu is not an angry person, but there's something about the way that darius spoke that rankles him. that unsettles him, in a way, because the way he took up the room reminded him so forcefully of a certain wolf, big and cocky and ruthless. so - he's not angry. he's not scared, and he doesn't even think twice about the way darius looked him over like a piece of meat, or some sort of tool. he's defensive, ready to bite. it's a concentrated effort to chill himself out before he turns to therion entirely.
[ sushang says something to him and honestly, he has no idea what it is. the entire world feels like it's underwater. if he knew better, he'd realize he was about to have a panic attack - and in fact, he just might have, if left on his own long enough. staring out after darius' back, his nails still dug into his palms, he hasn't moved a muscle, he's barely breathing by the time jiaoqiu makes his way over.
it's the sound of his own name that finally snaps him out of it. his pupils dart from the door to jiaoqiu, back to the door - he takes a deep breath, and his eyes snap back to jiaoqiu standing beside him. he thinks about that smile on darius' face when he said, your manor. he feels like he's going to jitter out of his skin, like a piece of broken glass, like static, like he's moving at lightspeed and through molasses all at the same time. ]
What. [ what, because that's all he can say. it's all therion can manage, at first, forced flat, forced nonchalant and failing. forced unaffected, and failing. ]
[ he says, in that same tone. he doesn't reach out, because therion looks like he's going to climb the walls, or stab something, or both. he's not afraid, he just doesn't want to make it worse. jiaoqiu, of all people, can understand a panic response like this, even if he doesn't exactly get why it's happening. doesn't matter. the first step is to get him somewhere safe. ]
Will you come home with me?
[ it is less of a question and more like, we should leave. ]
Perhaps we can stop to eat somewhere first.
[ so they can make sure they're not being followed. he's leaving it up to therion, but he's very clearly not going anywhere. ]
[ he's fine. he's fine, he's fine, it's cool, it's fine. everything still feels like it's moving through sludge.
the first comment - because it's not a question, he almost opens his mouth and says something stupid, but jiaoqiu suggests something else and it settles, because. yeah. yeah, yeah, the last fucking thing he wants is for someone to follow him. he doubts darius himself would, but he can't imagine he's completely by himself. (not like therion is, anyway, and the idea makes him rankle even worse, makes his expression look thunderous, but he reaches up and scrubs at his face with one hand. ]
Yeah. [ another harsh inhale, exhale. ] You pick.
[ fucking bolting is not going to help, even though he kind of wants out of this city let alone out of this building, but he's not going to let this affect him that much, because that pisses him off too. this shouldn't bother him that much. why the fuck does this still bother him that much? why does he even care? god, that's so annoying - he rubs his face again, one handed, and shakes his head. ] Whatever.
[ he has a lot of little places around town that he likes. the food is important - it's normal. it's routine, and it is in public, where nobody can attack them without causing a scene. they can find a little cart somewhere. sit outside, in view of people, not enclosed. he heads back into the office briefly to grab his things, and then comes back to therion. ]
May I touch you? Yes or no, not whatever.
[ he just wants to put his hand on therion's back, to lead him - to connect them, a little. the response therion is having to this encounter is worrying, and he's not entirely sure how to help, but he can be steady. at least his instincts are still somewhat sharp, he thinks idly. he knew that dude was an ass.
either way, he'll lead him out of the pharmacy, ears perked and alert. nothing is going to sneak up on them. ]
[ therion steps outside when jiaoqiu is gathering his things and looks around, because he can't stop himself from it. paranoid, always paranoid, and a look once, twice, three times, shows no strange faces, no random unfamiliar people, no one lurking in dark corners. therion knows these dark corners, he knows where any fucking thug would hide out in this place, because he's hidden out there, and it doesn't exactly help him relax, but it's something.
when jiaoqiu comes back out, he's jittering in place, hands still in his pockets, and when he asks him a question -- something just occurs to him like, a second too late, and though jiaoqiu so nicely asks it, therion reaches out and grabs onto him, around the wrist, smearing blood from his palm across his sleeve or his skin, and then starts pulling. he just pulls jiaoqiu away, into the closest little dark area he can find, and turns to face him, and in a low, urgent voice, just - ]
Check your pockets. Did he threaten you?
[ it's intense, his eyes just as intense, darting over jiaoqiu, over the alleyway, above their heads, making sure there is nothing here and no one else here, checking over jiaoqiu, watching him with a sort of urgency and panic that is unmistakable. ]
[ it surprises him, as it usually does when therion grabs him out of nowhere. but - he's fine with being pulled out of the place, and follows obediently. of course, until the smell of blood hits his nose, and then he's very alert, making a protesting noise as therion drags him into an alley. whatever he says to him at first is ignored, because jiaoqiu shifts his grip, holding therion's hand in both of his own, looking it over. did he dig his nails in too hard?
he does not bother looking in his pockets. ]
No. He flirted with me, poorly.
[ jiaoqiu says, with a hint of disgust. he presses his sleeve to whatever the blood came from, ear flicking violently. and then he tries to catch therion's gaze, expression softening. ]
[ he sure did! there are thin crescents in his palms from the bite of his stubby nails - it's not a lot of blood, but it's blood nonetheless. familiar injuries, though usually in a much more positive manner, and usually on jiaoqiu, not the other way around. when he takes his hand, he makes a protesting noise of his own when he doesn't fucking check, is he not listening - therion jostles closer and shoves his own hand in jiaoqiu's stupid fucking pockets as if this would help, feeling around like he could tell if anything was missing. if he has his wallet this makes him like one inch less ready to explode off the face of the earth.
in the meantime, the sharp, rapid fire questions continue, ignoring him. ]
Was there any medicine on the counter? Did you check the cash register?
[ a tremor quakes through his hands, just once, and therion bites back a half growl of frustration. he doesn't yank his hand out of jiaoqiu's grip, but he does pull the other one away from his pockets once he's satisfied. good. he's fine. it's fine. it's -] You wouldn't have any idea if you weren't.
[ fine. or at least, he sure as hell wouldn't have any idea that he got pickpocketed. they were both good at it, was the thing - therion was always better, which was the crux of the issue, but he can only imagine how darius has improved in the many years that have passed.
belatedly, take a breath registers, and he does, but no one would call it anything near relaxing. therion brings his free hand up and scrubs it over his face again, leaving a little blood on his cheek, and then he looks around again, like he's checking their surroundings. ]
[ he does in fact have his wallet on him, he's not missing anything, probably. he tends not to carry a lot on him anyway, just his phone and the flimsiest excuse for a wallet ever. he'd be very impressed if darius managed to steal anything from jiaoqiu specifically with a counter between them, when jiaoqiu did not take his eyes off him for a moment. he's old, not blind. anymore, anyway.
still, he gets it. he lets therion dig around in his pockets, with a huff. ]
I didn't check the cash register. The only medicine was his own.
[ calmly. he's measured, gently wiping the blood from therion's palm. a beat, and then he pushes therion's sleeve up his arm and presses his fingers to therion's pulse. not for any medical reason, just to say that he's here. there's no panic or fear in him, just... concern, mostly, and it shows on his face. ]
I'm a healer. I know very well when there's something wrong with me. Therion.
[ look at him. telegraphed, very clear where he's reaching, jiaoqiu tilts therion's face away from frantically looking around, and directs his gaze to jiaoqiu's. he wipes the blood from his cheek, adjusts therion's hair so it's safely over his ruined eye, his own gold eyes soft and worried. ]
[ listen no one ever said he was rational. this is not even remotely close to a rational response.
the feeling of his pulse cements it - it is going rabbit fast, to the point that it's certainly unhealthy, and it hasn't calmed down for a second since they left the store, and it might not for hours. he feels so wildly on edge, like a prey animal in a predator's territory, and that makes him feel even worse. the twin feelings of anxious awful dread and fury that it's still bothering him this much, that he can't just fucking shake this off.
the telegraphed movement stops him from looking around, even though he's clearly still incredibly tense. he doesn't flinch or anything, but he's holding himself unnaturally still, unnaturally fine, he's fine, he's fine. explain, jiaoqiu says. he doesn't even know where to start. the worry in his eyes feels like he's breathing in cold air again, bracing and unfamiliar and he knows how honest it is. the little gesture like he sets his armor back into place, all honest, too.
a few months ago, he would've shoved this away. no, no thank you, no i won't, goodbye forever. at this point, though - therion says, gruffly, finally: ]
Not here.
[ not - this close to the pharmacy. not in public. he pulls away a little, looks down and then back. ] Come on.
[ and he doesn't offer much explanation beyond that, because he steps back, and then he steps out to the edge of the alleyway, and then he waits. a nonverbal "follow me" - though therion doesn't ever let jiaoqiu out of his peripherial, really, but if he'll follow, they can go. ]
[ something in jiaoqiu, when he feels that rabbit-quick pulse, makes him want to wrap therion up and hold him. he knows that's not what you're supposed to do with panicking people, of course, but the instinct to take care of him and help him calm down is so strong that he can barely handle it. he wants to kiss him and put a blanket around his shoulders and sit him down in his warm apartment, it's okay, you're safe here.
but he lets therion call the shots. because - therion doesn't turn him down. doesn't run. he trusts him, and it's such a relief. it makes his whole body ache with it. he thinks about saying thank you. he doesn't, but it's clear in his expression.
he'll step in if it seems like therion leading is actually going to hurt him, but for now, jiaoqiu is obedient and calm. a rock, a lighthouse. he lets therion go, brushing his hand down therion's back in a comforting gesture as he turns. and then he follows. ]
I'm with you.
[ he says, easily enough. just a reminder. he's not going anywhere but to wherever therion is taking him. ]
[ he doesn't say anything else - he reacts a little to the hand, briefly straightening, still utterly tense, but then nods. i'm with you. and he thinks, that's gonna be the fucking problem to himself, viciously, but he lets it go.
and. well, they're not going to the nice warm apartment. that's for sure. in fact, therion leads the way briskly, constantly looking back and over his shoulder, slipping through the roughshod district of town. they take a path that twists and turns, clearly the long, long way around. for blocks, for a while - ten, fifteen, twenty, nearly thirty minutes of what would be a meandering, winding stroll were it not laced with his own anxiety. it probably does look a little sketchy to be doing this, but if jiaoqiu trusts him for some fucking reason, they come back out into a nicer part of town, past many pretty nice houses, and eventually, to a train station, and beyond that, to a dilapidated old building that might be an apartment complex, or like, maybe a condemned hotel. but therion pushes the back door of this building open with a flick of his wrist and holds it for jiaoqiu, until the door shuts with a final click. he looks up, around, checks his surroundings, and then leads him up (sorry) a lot of stairs.
however, eventually, down a dingy hallway with barely working lights and musty old carpet, he stops at a door and produces - a key, and pops the door open.
it's an apartment. it's. not great? it's really not great. jiaoqiu's might be bland, but it's a marked improvement over this little place, which consists of a tiny kitchenette, what amounts to a nest of blankets and a couple of pillows settled onto what looks like an air mattress, and a backpack of some kind leaning against a wall, a shitty bathroom with a tiny shower, and... that's about it. it's drafty as hell in here, but after some fiddling, therion flicks on a buzzy, old light and there's the click-click-click of three deadbolts, and he leans against the door and sighs.
he feels like he needs - god. a drink, that sounds fucking great, and without any other word, he pushes off the door and goes to the tiny kitchen cabinets and out of nowhere pulls out a really fucking nice bottle of whiskey and a couple of cups.
but talk about a sign of trust. this is his safehouse - the tiny, shitty place he used to spend time the most when he was in this town. his voice is low, gravel, but jiaoqiu can see that his tension level's come down a peg or two just by being here. ]
Shouldn't have been followed. [ a pause. and then a little more normal, a little more dryly; ] Hope you're not expecting a lot of hospitality.
[ outside, the sound of a train rumbling in the distance can be heard - as it passes by, it rattles the floor and walls of this apartment, indicating exactly why it's the way it is. therion holds still until it passes, and then pops the top off of the fancy booze and goes to pour himself a glass. ]
[ okay, well, this is the worst apartment in the world
jiaoqiu follows him easily enough, though by the end of it, especially when they have to go up a lot of stairs, he's out of breath. he is not built for a lot of physical activity - he takes public transit to work, and the elevator to his apartment. he's not going to die when they reach the hallway, but he looks like he's worn out, at the very least. especially in the cold, especially after a long shift. he doesn't complain, but his tail droops behind him and he's panting. lame.
of course, then therion lets them inside, and jiaoqiu forgets about being tired.
the inside of the apartment - the whole building, really - pains him. he's not unused to places like this, and he's by no means prissy about having to stay in a rundown building - he slept in tents for a good part of his life, in the mud, on the battlefield. it's just that thinking about therion being camped out here, in a place that barely counts as shelter... therion, curling up next to him in the warmth of jiaoqiu's bed, searching for heat, it's all very present in his mind. he looks over the flickering light, the blanket nest. the draft makes him shiver, his ears pinning back. the train makes him jump a bit, if only because he's not expecting it.
this probably isn't the first nest therion's had to stay in, jiaoqiu thinks.
and then therion pours himself a glass of whiskey, and jiaoqiu wanders after him and carefully slips his arms around him from behind. he hugs him, burying his face against therion's neck, and just stays there, eyes closed. jiaoqiu doesn't have a lot of body heat naturally, but he tries to give over some, anyway.
for right now he doesn't answer the snark, he's just. glad to see him, and very much wanting to Take Care. ]
[ NOT THE DROOPY TAIL any other time he'd be teasing him about his lack of stamina, but he's so very distressed at the moment that he does not. that's how you really know something's up.
it doesn't even really occur to him to be ashamed about the condition of this place, at least right now. it's safe - it's the first feeling of safety that he's had since he walked into that pharmacy, actually, because he knows they weren't followed, and he knows that if for some fucking reason someone tries to find him now, they'll just go to this place, which is as disposable as any other place he rests his head. jiaoqiu's gut feeling is correct - he's had many of these, in many different cities. early in his life, they were shared, but for the past few years, it's just been him in these little safehouses, alone, just the way he likes it. (or pretends to, at least.) this one's one of the better ones - it doesn't smell particularly terrible, and despite the train rattling by at all hours, he's gotten used to it, and he knows its hard to find, so it's one of the safest ones he's ever stayed in.
he still has to explain to jiaoqiu what the actual fuck is going on, but he's pretty sure he'll be able to do it better once he's calmed his nerves down, and despite not really being much of a drinker - he is way too paranoid for that - this should at least take the edge off. he must be clearly out of it, because he doesn't even really register that jiaoqiu is behind him (or maybe he just knows that he's safe) until he's right there, and though he jumps a little, it's not as bad as it could be.
he doesn't stop him. and in fact, after a very, very long beat, he just exhales out and leans a tiny bit into it. he doesn't want to explain, is the thing, and he feels shitty and exhausted just from one stupid fucking interaction, and that annoys him even worse. ugh.
just. ugh. he just holds the glass, and for a second, closes his eyes. ]
gently, he pets therion's side with his hand, an absent little motion. it's more for himself than it is for therion, but he imagines it won't hurt. his arms are low, giving therion room to drink if he wants to, full range of movement, but he's not letting go.
therion's less tense, he can tell, but not nearly enough, and jiaoqiu thinks about the way his pulse was going so fast he was in danger of a heart attack, and just hugs him a little more tightly. there's a lot of trust here, and he does see it. the way that therion doesn't hit him or push him away out of instinct from coming up behind him, the way he leans into it. the way he brought jiaoqiu here at all.
a sigh, after a long moment, and then: ]
Do you want to sit?
[ because he knows therion doesn't want to explain, but he's going to have to. ]
[ yeah. he knows, unfortunately, he's going to have to explain. he said he would. and - with darius floating around this city, ostensibly, it's for the better that he just knows, right? just in case. if something goes wrong, jiaoqiu had said, you shouldn't mention me. it's a little late for that, now, here, but it's the same concept.
he's quiet for a long moment, and then sighs, noisily, maybe a little dramatically, and knocks back the contents of the glass. it burns going down, and it's not nearly enough to get him tipsy, but it might take the edge off a little, and that's - just going to have to be what he needs. ]
Might as well.
[ he's decided he's going to go at this with a "well i guess this is fucking happening" kind of attitude because that will make him feel better about it, probably? he gestures with his arm like go on. not that there's. really anywhere to sit, and after a moment, he slips out of jiaoqiu's grasp, glass in hand, and makes his way over to the little living space, kicking the little pile of blankets off the air mattress and dropping one on top that's semi passable as a sheet, if nothing else. as is to be expected, it's kind of flat - sorry about your bones - but it's the only thing he's got.
therion sleeps with his back to the wall, always, and here, he sits the same way - horizontally on his stupid little bed, short legs kicked out in front of him, and leans back, tilting his head back against the wall, which is kind of cold. at least it's bracing. he eyes jiaoqiu from under his fringe as he does, watching to see what he decides to do. ]
jiaoqiu lets him go, and wanders a little absently after him as he kicks around. he watches him make a little space, and then has to go through like a whole dissertation of where it's acceptable to sit. does he sit next to therion? does he even sit on the mattress? does he take the floor? does he lean against the wall, is he allowed to sit with therion like, arm to arm, does he have to be not touching...
this is stupid but that is why he hesitates and kind of just stands there hopelessly for a long moment.
and then carefully he follows over and sits down on the floor, off the mattress, not too far from therion, back not against the wall. this is his default - putting himself on a different, lower level, like always, like the night that he curled up in front of the armchair instead of in therion's lap. he also winces a bit because his back hurts, but that's fine.
he'll move if therion moves him, it's just instinct to put himself in a second shitty position. ]
so sarcastic, and also he is happy for a distraction (short as it is) but also he would be a fool to not notice that jiaoqiu just - does this, puts himself on the floor. his air mattress does suck! it is not very comfortable! but it's kind of stupid for him to sit on the ground when the air mattress is like literally .5% better than the floor. that, and he doesn't have to sit on the floor in his shitty apartment, let alone in jiaoqiu's like, nice one. ]
[ he does not do that! because why would he. why would he say something helpful? therion? have you seen him?
the air mattress dips when he sits on it so they are both practically on the floor, so it's really not that much better. they end up dipping a little closer together if they weren't before, nearly hip to hip, and therion says nothing about it, looking down at the mostly empty glass held between his fingers.
[ well, therion doesn't startle or try to get away from him, so jiaoqiu settles close, hip to hip. his tail deposits itself directly into therion's lap, and jiaoqiu reaches to take his hand. the one that's cut up - not to hold it, to look it over, fussing at it. but also kind of to hold his hand in a way that isn't overt. ]
You knew him.
[ jiaoqiu prompts, digging into his pocket. he has to have like, antibacterial cream and bandaids somewhere on him, he's stupid like this. ]
he lets jiaoqiu take his hand. he's still so, so tense, even now - bringing the conversation back doesn't make it any better, but he lets him do whatever he wants, staring down at the giant pile of pink fluff in his lap. ]
I don't want any sympathy.
[ he says that, first. sort of like - a warning, though it's not, not really. just because he doesn't think the story's that worth it. it was his own fucking fault for deciding to trust darius with his life. he was young, and stupid, and he learned. and he sits in this room now, with another person, holding onto those tentative, scary bonds all over again, and he drinks the dregs of the whiskey in his cup. ]
... We ran in the same circle. [ that's a start, at least. ] When I was younger.
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darius doesn't even take his change at first - he's squinting at the person in purple across the room. therion can feel his gaze on him, and worse, he can hear sushang like she's talking to him through water - you are here to see him. he's almost banking on darius not recognizing him, now, because he feels his chest absolutely clench at the terrifying idea of him making that connection. he should leave. he should run. he should ignore sushang and turn around, and hightail it directly out of this city, as far away as humanly possible.
but the thing is, in a moment like this, therion's pride wins every time. he doesn't want darius to see him running like a cockroach uncovered from a rock. his shoulders roll backwards, and with his heart pounding and his fists clenched, he regards sushang with a smile. not unusual - he often greets her with a completely fake, friendly persona, just because he thinks its funny to make jiaoqiu cringe. ]
Think I got it. Thanks.
[ though it's definitely not as well practiced as usual. his tongue feels too big for his mouth.
he doesn't move right away, and he doesn't have to. the guy at the counter makes a low noise. his voice picks up a different timber, going from a genuine lack of recognition to something that feels almost... delighted? but the connotation's all wrong. "Well, hang me. Ain't that a coincidence? Therion, that you?"
fuck. he turns, finally, properly, and for the first time in years, he's eye to eye with darius. he's clenching his fists so hard in his pockets that he's drawing blood with his nails, his expression forced into nonchalance despite the fact that he's about to vibrate out of this plane of existence. if you didn't know him, you'd never be able to tell. (and that's the problem, is two people in this room, do.
or. one of them thinks he does, at least.) ] Darius. [ he says, tightly, giving a curt nod.
darius looks him over - up, down. "Gordon Bennet, I thought you'd be dead by now. Ain't grown an inch, have you? This your haunt?"
all therion does is snort, the noise sharp, his voice low, and says: ] No, it's not. [ but it's not enough of an answer. he knows its a mistake, because darius isn't stupid, and the spreading smile of interest on his face is enough to prove it.
in the meantime, jiaoqiu even from a distance has to be able to tell that therion is wildly uncomfortable, that he's about to fucking bolt - it's not an unfamiliar expression. ]
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well. jiaoqiu doesn't like this. his fur stands on end, as he watches darius approach therion, as he sees the clear discomfort in therion's posture. he can hear the conversation clearly, his ears twitching.
sushang watches the two of them for a second, and then glances over at jiaoqiu, who looks like he's about to climb the counter, and puts her hands on her hips.
"Is this guy bothering you?" she asks, completely clueless, just in time for jiaoqiu to very pointedly slam the door to his office behind him. she startles, looking up, as jiaoqiu makes his way over and starts arranging things on the shelves. he doesn't say anything and he doesn't look at either of them, but his presence is loud. for all that jiaoqiu can melt into nothing, there's still a part of him that used to be an advisor during the peak of war. there's a sort of danger to him that wasn't there before - not a rattlesnake, but a brightly colored frog, confident in its place. he doesn't have the muscle to intimidate, but he doesn't need it - there's an abyss inside him waiting to leak out, there's a curdling and rancid fire, made from burnt oil and melted plastic, waiting to strike. this is his pharmacy. it is not an invitation to linger. it's a suggestion to leave.
he knows better than to imply that he knows therion. even if it is obvious - he's practically bristling, protective, putting boxes down aggressively. ]
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don't overreact. don't overreact. don't let him know that you care, don't let him know anything, don't show him anything. darius regards him for a second, and he's about to say something when sushang speaks up, and then the door slams. both therion and darius, in perfect unison, jump - both trained to be just as high alert, both used to living the same shitty life, that just happened two be intertwined, and darius glances behind him as therion stares at the slammed door. ]
...No. [ therion says, after a moment, and the sardonic lace to his tone is something like self-deprecating, something sharp. all edges, all teeth. ] No, he's not.
[ "Nah." says darius in response, too, turning slowly away from the pink figure loudly stacking boxes - staring after jiaoqiu for a moment too long, one that makes the hair on the back of therion's neck stand up - and then slowly turning back. "We go way back - just been a proper minute since I saw this tea leaf scarperin' around. I won't tread on your manor, Therion."
that rankles him even worse - all those feelings of dread curdle violently in his stomach, and he feels the bite of his nails into his palm to keep him here. his manor. his turf. the worst part is he doesn't even know which part he's referring to. it might be the place. it might be jiaoqiu. the assumption either way is a bad sign.
darius adjusts his bag, and doffs an imaginary hat to sushang. "Tell your boss I said hope he's feelin' better, birdie. And, Therion - hah. Maybe you can give me a butcher 'round. Just like old times, eh?" ]
Pass. [ he says, sharply. no, the last thing he wants to do is give darius a fucking tour. the other thief gives him a long look, and then - whistling a tune that's downright jaunty, he heads out of the door with a cheerful ding like he didn't just walk in and send therion's entire life crashing down with a couple of sentences, with his very presence in this room.
and as he's gone, therion doesn't even move, at first, just sort of staring after him, his heart pounding so hard he can feel the blood roaring in his ears. ]
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"Wow, he seems like a jerk," she says, glancing over at jiaoqiu - and there's a pause, before she continues: "... I'm going to go make sure he didn't mess anything up. Call me if you need me, okay?"
and then she wanders off, leaving jiaoqiu and therion alone.
jiaoqiu is not an angry person, but there's something about the way that darius spoke that rankles him. that unsettles him, in a way, because the way he took up the room reminded him so forcefully of a certain wolf, big and cocky and ruthless. so - he's not angry. he's not scared, and he doesn't even think twice about the way darius looked him over like a piece of meat, or some sort of tool. he's defensive, ready to bite. it's a concentrated effort to chill himself out before he turns to therion entirely.
gently, but firmly: ]
Therion.
[ it's okay. he's gone. ]
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it's the sound of his own name that finally snaps him out of it. his pupils dart from the door to jiaoqiu, back to the door - he takes a deep breath, and his eyes snap back to jiaoqiu standing beside him. he thinks about that smile on darius' face when he said, your manor. he feels like he's going to jitter out of his skin, like a piece of broken glass, like static, like he's moving at lightspeed and through molasses all at the same time. ]
What. [ what, because that's all he can say. it's all therion can manage, at first, forced flat, forced nonchalant and failing. forced unaffected, and failing. ]
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[ he says, in that same tone. he doesn't reach out, because therion looks like he's going to climb the walls, or stab something, or both. he's not afraid, he just doesn't want to make it worse. jiaoqiu, of all people, can understand a panic response like this, even if he doesn't exactly get why it's happening. doesn't matter. the first step is to get him somewhere safe. ]
Will you come home with me?
[ it is less of a question and more like, we should leave. ]
Perhaps we can stop to eat somewhere first.
[ so they can make sure they're not being followed. he's leaving it up to therion, but he's very clearly not going anywhere. ]
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the first comment - because it's not a question, he almost opens his mouth and says something stupid, but jiaoqiu suggests something else and it settles, because. yeah. yeah, yeah, the last fucking thing he wants is for someone to follow him. he doubts darius himself would, but he can't imagine he's completely by himself. (not like therion is, anyway, and the idea makes him rankle even worse, makes his expression look thunderous, but he reaches up and scrubs at his face with one hand. ]
Yeah. [ another harsh inhale, exhale. ] You pick.
[ fucking bolting is not going to help, even though he kind of wants out of this city let alone out of this building, but he's not going to let this affect him that much, because that pisses him off too. this shouldn't bother him that much. why the fuck does this still bother him that much? why does he even care? god, that's so annoying - he rubs his face again, one handed, and shakes his head. ] Whatever.
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[ he has a lot of little places around town that he likes. the food is important - it's normal. it's routine, and it is in public, where nobody can attack them without causing a scene. they can find a little cart somewhere. sit outside, in view of people, not enclosed. he heads back into the office briefly to grab his things, and then comes back to therion. ]
May I touch you? Yes or no, not whatever.
[ he just wants to put his hand on therion's back, to lead him - to connect them, a little. the response therion is having to this encounter is worrying, and he's not entirely sure how to help, but he can be steady. at least his instincts are still somewhat sharp, he thinks idly. he knew that dude was an ass.
either way, he'll lead him out of the pharmacy, ears perked and alert. nothing is going to sneak up on them. ]
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when jiaoqiu comes back out, he's jittering in place, hands still in his pockets, and when he asks him a question -- something just occurs to him like, a second too late, and though jiaoqiu so nicely asks it, therion reaches out and grabs onto him, around the wrist, smearing blood from his palm across his sleeve or his skin, and then starts pulling. he just pulls jiaoqiu away, into the closest little dark area he can find, and turns to face him, and in a low, urgent voice, just - ]
Check your pockets. Did he threaten you?
[ it's intense, his eyes just as intense, darting over jiaoqiu, over the alleyway, above their heads, making sure there is nothing here and no one else here, checking over jiaoqiu, watching him with a sort of urgency and panic that is unmistakable. ]
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he does not bother looking in his pockets. ]
No. He flirted with me, poorly.
[ jiaoqiu says, with a hint of disgust. he presses his sleeve to whatever the blood came from, ear flicking violently. and then he tries to catch therion's gaze, expression softening. ]
I'm fine, Therion. I mean that. Take a breath.
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in the meantime, the sharp, rapid fire questions continue, ignoring him. ]
Was there any medicine on the counter? Did you check the cash register?
[ a tremor quakes through his hands, just once, and therion bites back a half growl of frustration. he doesn't yank his hand out of jiaoqiu's grip, but he does pull the other one away from his pockets once he's satisfied. good. he's fine. it's fine. it's -] You wouldn't have any idea if you weren't.
[ fine. or at least, he sure as hell wouldn't have any idea that he got pickpocketed. they were both good at it, was the thing - therion was always better, which was the crux of the issue, but he can only imagine how darius has improved in the many years that have passed.
belatedly, take a breath registers, and he does, but no one would call it anything near relaxing. therion brings his free hand up and scrubs it over his face again, leaving a little blood on his cheek, and then he looks around again, like he's checking their surroundings. ]
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still, he gets it. he lets therion dig around in his pockets, with a huff. ]
I didn't check the cash register. The only medicine was his own.
[ calmly. he's measured, gently wiping the blood from therion's palm. a beat, and then he pushes therion's sleeve up his arm and presses his fingers to therion's pulse. not for any medical reason, just to say that he's here. there's no panic or fear in him, just... concern, mostly, and it shows on his face. ]
I'm a healer. I know very well when there's something wrong with me. Therion.
[ look at him. telegraphed, very clear where he's reaching, jiaoqiu tilts therion's face away from frantically looking around, and directs his gaze to jiaoqiu's. he wipes the blood from his cheek, adjusts therion's hair so it's safely over his ruined eye, his own gold eyes soft and worried. ]
Explain, please.
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the feeling of his pulse cements it - it is going rabbit fast, to the point that it's certainly unhealthy, and it hasn't calmed down for a second since they left the store, and it might not for hours. he feels so wildly on edge, like a prey animal in a predator's territory, and that makes him feel even worse. the twin feelings of anxious awful dread and fury that it's still bothering him this much, that he can't just fucking shake this off.
the telegraphed movement stops him from looking around, even though he's clearly still incredibly tense. he doesn't flinch or anything, but he's holding himself unnaturally still, unnaturally fine, he's fine, he's fine. explain, jiaoqiu says. he doesn't even know where to start. the worry in his eyes feels like he's breathing in cold air again, bracing and unfamiliar and he knows how honest it is. the little gesture like he sets his armor back into place, all honest, too.
a few months ago, he would've shoved this away. no, no thank you, no i won't, goodbye forever. at this point, though - therion says, gruffly, finally: ]
Not here.
[ not - this close to the pharmacy. not in public. he pulls away a little, looks down and then back. ] Come on.
[ and he doesn't offer much explanation beyond that, because he steps back, and then he steps out to the edge of the alleyway, and then he waits. a nonverbal "follow me" - though therion doesn't ever let jiaoqiu out of his peripherial, really, but if he'll follow, they can go. ]
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but he lets therion call the shots. because - therion doesn't turn him down. doesn't run. he trusts him, and it's such a relief. it makes his whole body ache with it. he thinks about saying thank you. he doesn't, but it's clear in his expression.
he'll step in if it seems like therion leading is actually going to hurt him, but for now, jiaoqiu is obedient and calm. a rock, a lighthouse. he lets therion go, brushing his hand down therion's back in a comforting gesture as he turns. and then he follows. ]
I'm with you.
[ he says, easily enough. just a reminder. he's not going anywhere but to wherever therion is taking him. ]
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and. well, they're not going to the nice warm apartment. that's for sure. in fact, therion leads the way briskly, constantly looking back and over his shoulder, slipping through the roughshod district of town. they take a path that twists and turns, clearly the long, long way around. for blocks, for a while - ten, fifteen, twenty, nearly thirty minutes of what would be a meandering, winding stroll were it not laced with his own anxiety. it probably does look a little sketchy to be doing this, but if jiaoqiu trusts him for some fucking reason, they come back out into a nicer part of town, past many pretty nice houses, and eventually, to a train station, and beyond that, to a dilapidated old building that might be an apartment complex, or like, maybe a condemned hotel. but therion pushes the back door of this building open with a flick of his wrist and holds it for jiaoqiu, until the door shuts with a final click. he looks up, around, checks his surroundings, and then leads him up (sorry) a lot of stairs.
however, eventually, down a dingy hallway with barely working lights and musty old carpet, he stops at a door and produces - a key, and pops the door open.
it's an apartment. it's. not great? it's really not great. jiaoqiu's might be bland, but it's a marked improvement over this little place, which consists of a tiny kitchenette, what amounts to a nest of blankets and a couple of pillows settled onto what looks like an air mattress, and a backpack of some kind leaning against a wall, a shitty bathroom with a tiny shower, and... that's about it. it's drafty as hell in here, but after some fiddling, therion flicks on a buzzy, old light and there's the click-click-click of three deadbolts, and he leans against the door and sighs.
he feels like he needs - god. a drink, that sounds fucking great, and without any other word, he pushes off the door and goes to the tiny kitchen cabinets and out of nowhere pulls out a really fucking nice bottle of whiskey and a couple of cups.
but talk about a sign of trust. this is his safehouse - the tiny, shitty place he used to spend time the most when he was in this town. his voice is low, gravel, but jiaoqiu can see that his tension level's come down a peg or two just by being here. ]
Shouldn't have been followed. [ a pause. and then a little more normal, a little more dryly; ] Hope you're not expecting a lot of hospitality.
[ outside, the sound of a train rumbling in the distance can be heard - as it passes by, it rattles the floor and walls of this apartment, indicating exactly why it's the way it is. therion holds still until it passes, and then pops the top off of the fancy booze and goes to pour himself a glass. ]
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jiaoqiu follows him easily enough, though by the end of it, especially when they have to go up a lot of stairs, he's out of breath. he is not built for a lot of physical activity - he takes public transit to work, and the elevator to his apartment. he's not going to die when they reach the hallway, but he looks like he's worn out, at the very least. especially in the cold, especially after a long shift. he doesn't complain, but his tail droops behind him and he's panting. lame.
of course, then therion lets them inside, and jiaoqiu forgets about being tired.
the inside of the apartment - the whole building, really - pains him. he's not unused to places like this, and he's by no means prissy about having to stay in a rundown building - he slept in tents for a good part of his life, in the mud, on the battlefield. it's just that thinking about therion being camped out here, in a place that barely counts as shelter... therion, curling up next to him in the warmth of jiaoqiu's bed, searching for heat, it's all very present in his mind. he looks over the flickering light, the blanket nest. the draft makes him shiver, his ears pinning back. the train makes him jump a bit, if only because he's not expecting it.
this probably isn't the first nest therion's had to stay in, jiaoqiu thinks.
and then therion pours himself a glass of whiskey, and jiaoqiu wanders after him and carefully slips his arms around him from behind. he hugs him, burying his face against therion's neck, and just stays there, eyes closed. jiaoqiu doesn't have a lot of body heat naturally, but he tries to give over some, anyway.
for right now he doesn't answer the snark, he's just. glad to see him, and very much wanting to Take Care. ]
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it doesn't even really occur to him to be ashamed about the condition of this place, at least right now. it's safe - it's the first feeling of safety that he's had since he walked into that pharmacy, actually, because he knows they weren't followed, and he knows that if for some fucking reason someone tries to find him now, they'll just go to this place, which is as disposable as any other place he rests his head. jiaoqiu's gut feeling is correct - he's had many of these, in many different cities. early in his life, they were shared, but for the past few years, it's just been him in these little safehouses, alone, just the way he likes it. (or pretends to, at least.) this one's one of the better ones - it doesn't smell particularly terrible, and despite the train rattling by at all hours, he's gotten used to it, and he knows its hard to find, so it's one of the safest ones he's ever stayed in.
he still has to explain to jiaoqiu what the actual fuck is going on, but he's pretty sure he'll be able to do it better once he's calmed his nerves down, and despite not really being much of a drinker - he is way too paranoid for that - this should at least take the edge off. he must be clearly out of it, because he doesn't even really register that jiaoqiu is behind him (or maybe he just knows that he's safe) until he's right there, and though he jumps a little, it's not as bad as it could be.
he doesn't stop him. and in fact, after a very, very long beat, he just exhales out and leans a tiny bit into it. he doesn't want to explain, is the thing, and he feels shitty and exhausted just from one stupid fucking interaction, and that annoys him even worse. ugh.
just. ugh. he just holds the glass, and for a second, closes his eyes. ]
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gently, he pets therion's side with his hand, an absent little motion. it's more for himself than it is for therion, but he imagines it won't hurt. his arms are low, giving therion room to drink if he wants to, full range of movement, but he's not letting go.
therion's less tense, he can tell, but not nearly enough, and jiaoqiu thinks about the way his pulse was going so fast he was in danger of a heart attack, and just hugs him a little more tightly. there's a lot of trust here, and he does see it. the way that therion doesn't hit him or push him away out of instinct from coming up behind him, the way he leans into it. the way he brought jiaoqiu here at all.
a sigh, after a long moment, and then: ]
Do you want to sit?
[ because he knows therion doesn't want to explain, but he's going to have to. ]
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he's quiet for a long moment, and then sighs, noisily, maybe a little dramatically, and knocks back the contents of the glass. it burns going down, and it's not nearly enough to get him tipsy, but it might take the edge off a little, and that's - just going to have to be what he needs. ]
Might as well.
[ he's decided he's going to go at this with a "well i guess this is fucking happening" kind of attitude because that will make him feel better about it, probably? he gestures with his arm like go on. not that there's. really anywhere to sit, and after a moment, he slips out of jiaoqiu's grasp, glass in hand, and makes his way over to the little living space, kicking the little pile of blankets off the air mattress and dropping one on top that's semi passable as a sheet, if nothing else. as is to be expected, it's kind of flat - sorry about your bones - but it's the only thing he's got.
therion sleeps with his back to the wall, always, and here, he sits the same way - horizontally on his stupid little bed, short legs kicked out in front of him, and leans back, tilting his head back against the wall, which is kind of cold. at least it's bracing. he eyes jiaoqiu from under his fringe as he does, watching to see what he decides to do. ]
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jiaoqiu lets him go, and wanders a little absently after him as he kicks around. he watches him make a little space, and then has to go through like a whole dissertation of where it's acceptable to sit. does he sit next to therion? does he even sit on the mattress? does he take the floor? does he lean against the wall, is he allowed to sit with therion like, arm to arm, does he have to be not touching...
this is stupid but that is why he hesitates and kind of just stands there hopelessly for a long moment.
and then carefully he follows over and sits down on the floor, off the mattress, not too far from therion, back not against the wall. this is his default - putting himself on a different, lower level, like always, like the night that he curled up in front of the armchair instead of in therion's lap. he also winces a bit because his back hurts, but that's fine.
he'll move if therion moves him, it's just instinct to put himself in a second shitty position. ]
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Wow, air mattress too good for you, fluff?
[ this is
so sarcastic, and also he is happy for a distraction (short as it is) but also he would be a fool to not notice that jiaoqiu just - does this, puts himself on the floor. his air mattress does suck! it is not very comfortable! but it's kind of stupid for him to sit on the ground when the air mattress is like literally .5% better than the floor. that, and he doesn't have to sit on the floor in his shitty apartment, let alone in jiaoqiu's like, nice one. ]
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If you want me to sit somewhere specific, tell me where.
[ otherwise!! his instinct is to degrade himself in some way!! but he'll move up to the air mattress, at least. huff. ]
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the air mattress dips when he sits on it so they are both practically on the floor, so it's really not that much better. they end up dipping a little closer together if they weren't before, nearly hip to hip, and therion says nothing about it, looking down at the mostly empty glass held between his fingers.
and... not saying anything, at first. ]
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You knew him.
[ jiaoqiu prompts, digging into his pocket. he has to have like, antibacterial cream and bandaids somewhere on him, he's stupid like this. ]
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he lets jiaoqiu take his hand. he's still so, so tense, even now - bringing the conversation back doesn't make it any better, but he lets him do whatever he wants, staring down at the giant pile of pink fluff in his lap. ]
I don't want any sympathy.
[ he says that, first. sort of like - a warning, though it's not, not really. just because he doesn't think the story's that worth it. it was his own fucking fault for deciding to trust darius with his life. he was young, and stupid, and he learned. and he sits in this room now, with another person, holding onto those tentative, scary bonds all over again, and he drinks the dregs of the whiskey in his cup. ]
... We ran in the same circle. [ that's a start, at least. ] When I was younger.
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