thewidewideworld | (no subject)

Sinric drinks deeply and swiftly, nor minding that it burns his tongue. He welcomes oblivion from the maelstrom within him and the hurt he's already caused.

Athelstan watches him, then moves to sit on the edge of the bed.

He did say he'd stay.

Ragnar lies beside Sinric, to provide the warmth of his presence, even if Athelstan'S distance is acutely painful.

Sinric curls in Ragnar's arms, his slight body shaking. He reaches out one hand to Athelstan, radiating apology and praying the drugs act quickly. He can't bear this any more.

It isn't anything Sinric's done. He just isn't able to be who Sinric wants, or who Ragnar does, and Athelstan feels guilty for that himself.

He takes Sinric's hand and squeezes it.

Ragnar looks up at him.

"Can you sleep, too?"

Sinric feels the drugs that him, feels himself begin to float. He squeezes Athelstan's hand, hoping it expresses his love and gratitude.

"I'll try. Whether yes or no, I won't leave."

"At least get comfortable?"

Sinric is sinking fast, his lips moving in a silent whisper as his eyes close.

{ooc: feel free to play around him a bit.}

Athelstan nods and lies down on the bed, trying very hard to untense.

Ragnar makes sure to completely stay on his own side of Sinric.

Athelstan is still holding Sinric's hand but doesn't initiate any other contact.

It's not,something either of them can break through, it seems. Ragnar doesn't want to put any more pressure on his love, which seems to have become terribly fraught, rather than better, since Athelstan left for Olofier's rooms.

Mostly he doesn't want to give Ragnar false hope of more happening than he's able to give, since it seems to him Ragnar still wants it very much.

Ragnar would rather not have sex, ever again, than lose Athelstan's love. His simple, affectionate touch. Talking to him.

But he feels all this might be gone already.

Sinric sleeps quietly but his eyes twitching behind closed lids, his fingers twitching in their grip.

And all of a sudden, the peace is gone and Sinric is screaming, clawing at his face.

Athelstan was only just drifting into an unhappy sleep. He snaps awake and grabs Sinric's near hand, pulling it down.

"Stop. Sinric, stop."

Ragnar is there on Sinric's other side, reaching out to hold him.

"Sinric," he says. "Sinric. You are here with us, and safe."

Sinric throws his weight against them, fighting against something unseen, something terrible.

His eyes roll back, thrashing and gurgling. This is no longer a nightmare but a fit.

Athelstan looks up at Ragnar.

"You're stronger than me. Hold him down and I'll fetch the doctor."

"Yes."

Ragnar is holding on to Sinric, trying to keep him from injuring himself.

There are words between his screams, almost coherent. "Don't! Don't kill her! Ragnar, no!"

But they get lost in a babble of Greek and sharp cries of pain. He fights with ever ounce of strength, blood speckling at the corner of his lips.

Athelstan runs for the door.

Ragnar wraps a blanket around Sinric, trying to calm him at least a little.