Shades of Dusk

Raw Wound

If Beam had thought today was going to be easy, he'd been sorely mistaken. Because of the panic attack last night, he woke feeling hungover, and an hour late since his phone was still... Not in his possession. His whole body aches, and he knows he looks a bit like death warmed over.

But he can't make more people disappointed; bad enough Kit's face is grim when he finally makes it to class, not to mention Pha's stone-faced silence and even lack of acknowledgement, but he can't bear the thought of disappointing his parents on top of everything else.

He was doing his best not to think of how badly he's hurt Forth. Of how much he's fucked up with the man who is supposed to be his partner, his boyfriend.

By the time break comes, he is ready to crawl under a rock and just die already.

"Before we get lunch, you should get your stuff," Pha suddenly speaks up for the first time since their first class, still looking wholly unhappy.

No, not just unhappy. Almost... disappointed.

Beam freezes, whole-body and wide-eyed, confused and with a tired brain that is trying to process what Pha could be referring to. His stuff? Forth had--

"You have my stuff." The words slip out of him, his tongue forming them without permission, even while they leave a bitter aftertaste.

"Yeah. I got it from Forth before class this morning," Pha agrees, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Shit," Kit curses, eyes wide as he looks between Pha and Beam, though Beam doesn't really care about that.

What he cares about are the implications. What it means that Forth gave his things to Pha, rather than giving it to him directly.

His chest feels tight and empty, at the same time, even while his head pounds in time with his too-fast heartbeat as it begins to pound again. This isn't the start of another panic attack, this...

This was just him free-falling, his wings clipped and gone.

The knowledge only settles in his belly, deep and heavy, as he pulls his bag from the back of Pha's car ten minutes later, digging through the front pocket to find his phone. Of course, the damn thing is dead, of course it is because that is just how today is going. Pha's face continues to be stone-like, cold and unfeeling, all the while watching him as he becomes more and more panicked. Kit remains with them, quiet and unsure, looking back and forth as though not sure what the hell is going on.

"I need... I need to go, I need to talk to Forth," is what he finally decides on, when he can't find his goddamn spare charger, or the power bank he'd gotten when he'd started to talking Forth on a much, much more regular basis.

"You're not going to find him," Pha tells him, stopping him cold as he's starting to turn. Slowly, fingers curled painfully around the device in his hand, he turns back to Pha.

This time, it's not disappointment on that cold face; it's sadness, it's fucking pity.

"Ai'Pha--" he starts, voice rough and a clear warning there. A plea. But his friend cuts him off, pressing a hand to his shoulder, warm and heavy.

"Leave him be for a few days, Ai'Beam. Let him cool his head," Pha encourages, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

All Beam can do in response is nod mutely, staring down at his dead device, cursing himself to hell and back. If he'd thought the idea of tomorrow would fix things, he should have known better.

All it's done is completely fucking wreck everything.

\;*;/