Sticks And Stones Will Break My Bones But It'll Shut My Brain Up So It's Fine

toss him like a sack of potatoes

"You're too thin," Liquid says, pulling Mantis into a hug like they haven't seen each other in years. To be fair, they haven't. Sure, they'd still been in contact-- the psychic link never faded, even if there were a couple stretches where it saw less use-- but that was different. Not the same sort of presence, not the same sort of interaction.

Mantis doesn't object, knows Liquid isn't wrong, but does roll his eyes fondly at the concern. At least I can still function well, he thinks, and Liquid scowls for a moment.

That's a bad baseline and you know it, he responds, while out loud he says, "Come on, let's get you inside."

As he leads him into the base, he gratefully notes that it's warmer than the outside world had been. The halls are also empty, likely due to the time. After all, most of the people on-base used mid-evening for meals or their own business.

Mantis stays quiet throughout the tour, only cutting in with questions once or twice. He's always been good at absorbing information, so Liquid isn't worried-- at least, not about the tour. A sense of anxiety had been growing in his chest, and he's fairly sure it isn't his, but that does little to stop him from being put on edge anyways.

While the two walk, Liquid feels I missed you press itself into his head. Then before he can respond, Mantis reiterates the sentiment, his emphasis bordering on a sense of desperation.

I missed you too, he responds, and Mantis's mind warms in acknowledgement.

The tour finishes without further issue, and it's a couple days before anything eventful happens. Mantis shifts easily into his new role, quite familiar with being at Liquid's side. The more defined hierarchical aspect is less familiar, but nothing he can't adjust to.

In fact, maybe he adjusts too easily-- while he has much better control of it these days, the little parasitic component of his brain is still all too eager to be directed by Liquid. It's messing with his head, or at least messing with his psychic ability.

One evening he goes to Liquid's office, determined to do something to fix himself. As he enters the room the dots connect, and he shuts the door behind him. My mind isn't as it should be right now, he says hesitantly, pushing the thought towards Liquid but not directly into his head.

He nods, standing from his chair to approach him. "You're nervous enough that I'm picking up on it without trying. What's going on?"

Boss, Mantis presses into Liquid's mind. He grabs onto the lapels of his coat suddenly, but his grip is loose-- it's only for emphasis. Hurt me?

For a moment Liquid recoils: confused, a little shocked. Maybe disgusted, but Mantis can't quite tell. Doesn't really want to tell right now, either. "What?"

Mantis tries again. It-- I need you to do something. Anything blunt. Throw me across the room, deck me as hard as you can, whatever. I'll recover, it'll be fine. His brain is doing that awful thing again, crackling and sparking with uncontrolled energy. He knows it's from his brain reacting to Liquid, and he also knows it'll be a problem if he can't get it to shut up quickly. Please, Eli?

Liquid looks away, unable to determine how to respond. He knows he wouldn't beg if it wasn't important. He hesitates a moment before sighing, pulling Mantis's hands away from his coat and taking a step back. Instantly, he feels Mantis's regret hit his mind. Boss, I--

"Okay. Sure. But we're discussing later, deal?"

Mantis goes still for a second, processing the information. Then he nods, trying to keep his franticness from leaking over with the agreement he sends Liquid's way. Almost before he realizes it, Liquid's fist is slamming into his solar plexus, and it throws him off his balance.

As he stumbles, Liquid slams him into the wall, pinning him there with his forearm. He tries to breath, with considerable difficulty. Can I? Liquid thinks, indicating Mantis's mask with his free hand. When a thumbs-up is pressed into his head he reaches towards the straps, loosening them enough to tug the mask off and throw it aside.

Mantis grimaces, blinking hard to try and reorient his mind as he's hit with the stifling static of ambient thoughts. But he adjusts, catching his breath successfully and sending an All good into Liquid's mind.

At that Liquid shoves against him forcefully, his arm pressing into Mantis's throat. He lets out a sort of khakgkh sound as he chokes, turning his head to the side to cough immediately afterwards. Once he looks recovered Liquid slugs him again, hard and quick. He winces as his body registers the impact, and Liquid picks up on a stray thought about how this will bruise later, huh.

"Should I stop? Or..." he asks, pulling away to give him some breathing room. Mantis pauses, considering. The prickling and cracking in his brain was thankfully settling, turning into a fizz that would certainly dissipate.

Throw me for good measure, but I should be better now.

Liquid complies, grabbing him by the shoulder and winging him as hard as possible at the adjacent wall. He goes easily, taking the brunt of the impact with his shoulder and upper arm before slumping to the floor.

Dropping into a crouch alongside him, Liquid asks, "So why the hell?"

Mantis takes a moment to collect himself before responding, "It's... seeing you set off the psychic equivalent of overloading a circuit, essentially. I needed to settle my mind to prevent something going wrong, and collision and pressure tend to help." And, I'd rather go to you about this than get carried away on my own or physically engage with someone else.

Concern resurfaced in Liquid's mind, though he tried to push it to the side for the time being. "So, a grounding thing. And not you wanting me to hurt you just for the sake of being hurt?" He didn't say it like an accusation, more like he was looking for confirmation.

"Right," Mantis nodded. "Apologies for being unclear about my intention." I didn't mean to worry you.

"Water under the bridge now," he says, while at the same time he thinks, You show up skin and bones, clearly stressed, and ask to be hurt, Mantis. Of course I'm worried.

He at least has the decency to look guilty, turning ever-so-slightly away from Liquid as his expression contorts. It's then that Liquid notices how emotive his face is; he'd never picked up on it, with Mantis near-always wearing the mask even when they were young.

It's simply what my field demands of me, I get by fine.

You shouldn't have to be just getting by, Liquid thinks, though he chooses not to transmit that idea.

He's sure Mantis picks up on it anyways. The quiet Thank you, Eli he sends is a pretty good indicator, after all.