[It's very soft, and though it's hushed, the emotion in it is the same as he speaks to Luca. He's tried to hold back on being familiar with Alois, but this comes too strongly to the surface to mask.]
You are not vulgar, you're not bad. I've seen horrible things, and you're not them.
[ al is only saying this because he doesn't know the things alois has done. allowed to be done to him. that he's unclean, profoundly filthy, rotten cored.
he's a terrible child who's only capable of doing bad, tearing off wings, or breaking small bones, or moving them just right over a man. sinful hands. unworthy, bile-inducing hands.
the whole time, alois weeps and weeps, because for once he's at a loss for words, even fragments of sentences because he doesn't know how to say what he feels, or what he thinks, not when it's true or when he's hurting so much. there are tears stubbornly rolling down his cheeks, rebelling against the flighty, small pale hands that come up to wipe the backs of themselves, the knuckles, or wrists against his eyelashes.
a good few minutes of this, then gasping out. ] I didn't want to kill it, I didn't want to, I was so mad.
I'm tired.
I... [ he grows hush here, and the rest is muttered with airy, shock into his palms. ] I want Claude.
[It's very soft and he has no idea if Alois with even allow a touch, but he can't watch him cry and ignore the need to comfort the tears. He holds out his hands.]
[ fingers settle against the leg of a chair to push aside, and he very much wants to. he wants arms right now and it doesn't really matter how, but then he sees his raw knuckles and his dried blood speckled wrists and he pulls the arm back. ]
I'm dirty. [ all tentative, while peeking out at him. ]
[It's soft, final and reassuring. He doesn't care about whether he's dirty, bloody or otherwise. In any form. This is still Jim -- this is still his boy, even if he's hurting and damaged.]
[ hesitating still, his eyes drop to his knees, his fingers curl in toward his palms, then he's nudging the chair aside to crawl out.
alois half-topples and half-drops his face against his chest, and winds trembling fingers into al's clothes. stares widely into the shadow against him, created by his own head. ]
[ his own arms don't wrap around, but his fingers do clench more earnestly. he's still wide-eyed, peering, heart hammering relentlessly. claude can't hold him, but al can, and he hadn't expected it to feel so different.
he can't figure out what al wants. it's enough to have him shaking too much. part of him wants to cry into him, another wants to crawl into his lap, and another wants to pull his hair and kick him, and so he strains because he isn't sure which is the best to do in this case. ]
[The warmth and reassurance is perfect. He gathers Alois up all the more, ruffling his fingers through his hair.
There's nothing more he seems to want, nothing pushed for, nothing asked. It doesn't cost him anything to give him this, and he expects nothing in return.]
[ he'd hit hannah. God, would he have hit hannah had she been al in this very moment. his hands ache and he wants to, that's definite, but he's so very, very worn out and all he can manage is another quiet spilling of tears. ]
[ he's not sure what al's saying at all. after a half-minute of resting his cheek against him, he slips away to sit up, pressing the heel of a palm against one eye. ]
Nothing is, [ and, if he were in a better state of it, he would have managed this convincingly and not so quick that it's defensive. ]
I meant, I don't understand how you can sit here like you are and talk like you fucking do with your fucking voice and make it so difficult to figure out what you must be thinking, and not hit me because I'm bad at chores or I won't do them, I killed your chicken, and I'm really gross and you're just sitting here holding me like nothing's even happened!
... then I'll answer whatever questions you have. I'm not going to hit you because it's wrong to hit someone unless it's in self-defense, and you can't hurt me.
[There was something so simple about it. 'You can't hurt me.' But so... assured, of him.]
I'm holding you because you were crying -- when someone's upset I want to make them feel better.
[ both cheeks grow pink, and it might suit him—blushing, but it's such a rare, almost non-existent occurrence. he blinks widely, unsure of himself, at the ground, their legs, and his shoulders have absently hitched themselves and made him look his age, or even younger maybe.
finally, still small: ] ... maybe I can ... stitch the head back. I don't know how to stitch, but maybe ... I mean, things can be ressurected, can't they?
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-10-19 04:10 am (UTC)[It's very soft, and though it's hushed, the emotion in it is the same as he speaks to Luca. He's tried to hold back on being familiar with Alois, but this comes too strongly to the surface to mask.]
You are not vulgar, you're not bad. I've seen horrible things, and you're not them.
no subject
Date: 2012-10-19 05:32 am (UTC)he's a terrible child who's only capable of doing bad, tearing off wings, or breaking small bones, or moving them just right over a man. sinful hands. unworthy, bile-inducing hands.
the whole time, alois weeps and weeps, because for once he's at a loss for words, even fragments of sentences because he doesn't know how to say what he feels, or what he thinks, not when it's true or when he's hurting so much. there are tears stubbornly rolling down his cheeks, rebelling against the flighty, small pale hands that come up to wipe the backs of themselves, the knuckles, or wrists against his eyelashes.
a good few minutes of this, then gasping out. ] I didn't want to kill it, I didn't want to, I was so mad.
I'm tired.
I... [ he grows hush here, and the rest is muttered with airy, shock into his palms. ] I want Claude.
no subject
Date: 2012-10-19 05:58 am (UTC)[It's very soft and he has no idea if Alois with even allow a touch, but he can't watch him cry and ignore the need to comfort the tears. He holds out his hands.]
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Date: 2012-10-19 06:02 am (UTC)I'm dirty. [ all tentative, while peeking out at him. ]
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Date: 2012-10-19 06:17 am (UTC)[It's soft, final and reassuring. He doesn't care about whether he's dirty, bloody or otherwise. In any form. This is still Jim -- this is still his boy, even if he's hurting and damaged.]
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Date: 2012-10-19 06:23 am (UTC)alois half-topples and half-drops his face against his chest, and winds trembling fingers into al's clothes. stares widely into the shadow against him, created by his own head. ]
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Date: 2012-10-19 06:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-19 06:37 am (UTC)he can't figure out what al wants. it's enough to have him shaking too much. part of him wants to cry into him, another wants to crawl into his lap, and another wants to pull his hair and kick him, and so he strains because he isn't sure which is the best to do in this case. ]
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Date: 2012-10-19 06:47 am (UTC)[The warmth and reassurance is perfect. He gathers Alois up all the more, ruffling his fingers through his hair.
There's nothing more he seems to want, nothing pushed for, nothing asked. It doesn't cost him anything to give him this, and he expects nothing in return.]
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Date: 2012-10-19 06:50 am (UTC)I don't understand.
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Date: 2012-10-19 07:01 am (UTC)[It hurts to admit.]
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Date: 2012-10-19 07:04 am (UTC)What do you mean?
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Date: 2012-10-19 07:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-19 07:12 am (UTC)I meant, I don't understand how you can sit here like you are and talk like you fucking do with your fucking voice and make it so difficult to figure out what you must be thinking, and not hit me because I'm bad at chores or I won't do them, I killed your chicken, and I'm really gross and you're just sitting here holding me like nothing's even happened!
no subject
Date: 2012-10-19 07:19 am (UTC)... then I'll answer whatever questions you have. I'm not going to hit you because it's wrong to hit someone unless it's in self-defense, and you can't hurt me.
[There was something so simple about it. 'You can't hurt me.' But so... assured, of him.]
I'm holding you because you were crying -- when someone's upset I want to make them feel better.
no subject
Date: 2012-10-19 07:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-19 07:23 am (UTC)[Firmly, but still in that soft voice.]
Luca is like that.
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Date: 2012-10-19 07:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-19 07:30 am (UTC)[He says it without bothering to conceal the love in his voice. Luca is obviously important to him.]
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Date: 2012-10-19 07:34 am (UTC)he only puckers his lips moodily, though, and sinks slightly in toward himself. ]
You're better for him. I've come and I'm going to mess it all up.
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Date: 2012-10-19 07:39 am (UTC)[Al frowns, and it doesn't work on his face. It looks more like a pout. He very lightly pokes Alois' cheek.]
You're not going to mess anything up.
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Date: 2012-10-19 07:44 am (UTC)finally, still small: ] ... maybe I can ... stitch the head back. I don't know how to stitch, but maybe ... I mean, things can be ressurected, can't they?
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Date: 2012-10-19 07:57 am (UTC)[He sets a hand on his hair, tries to swallow back the feeling of sickness, of hurt.]
It's not going to come back.
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Date: 2012-10-19 08:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-19 08:10 am (UTC)[He tells him, quietly.]
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