[ Hours after Benedict had come to him Hanzo has him still, but the time has been spent idly. The other man had been weak from the dragons, broken from the ache, and all Hanzo could do was pick him up and lift him into his bed, waiting. Over time his eyes had slipped closed, Kenji and Tomo hovering as a kind of guard as he dozed.
Waking now is slow and uneasy and Hanzo has to stop himself moving too much. Benedict is in his arms how, his own wrapped around him as he keeps him right against his chest, fingers brushing idly where they lay. He’d be embarrassed if he cared enough, but he’s had his share of drunken nights and. Well. Benedict might be more embarrassed.
Huffing a soft noise against his neck, Hanzo waits. ]
[It's been the sleep of the exhausted and miserable, longer than a nap has any right to be, yet something direly needed. The sun is nearly down when his eyes finally open again, an ache in the core of his body causing him to curl inward-- and then he notices the arm around him. It's nothing to panic over, not yet; he rolls onto his back with a sleepy sigh and is only a little perplexed to see Hanzo there.]
[ It’s easy to feel as Benedict comes to, the shift of his body as he wakes up and realises where he is. For a long moment Hanzo just waits to see what he’s going to do, to see if he’s going to flee or make himself comfortable, hovering just a little before he breathes out. He’s sure Benedict can feel some of the tension relaxing from the body behind him as Hanzo holds him just a little tighter.
[Trying to lift his head is all the proof that Bene needs, and he lays it back again with a wince, pressing a hand over his abdomen. Being held thus is strange, but it's nice, especially when one is feeling as weak as he is, and another long sigh is indication enough that he has no intention of going anywhere.]
When did I fall asleep, [he murmurs, not entirely bothered by whatever the answer is.]
[ That is acceptable as far as Hanzo is concerned. He holds onto Benedict because he sees no reason to let go - the embrace is nice and he’s dozy, half-asleep and prepared in case the other man decides to run. It’s odd, considering, to feel this comfortable, but he simply hums against him before he replies. ]
Not long after. The effect of the dragons can be exhausting. [ Hanzo does have some regrets. He knows Benedict wished to be hurt, but in his anger... ] It will take time.
[Hanzo's arm over him puts pressure where he wishes it wouldn't, so Benedict puts his hand over it, gently guiding it upward to lay over his sternum instead of his middle.]
My mother wrote to me at last, [he murmurs, perhaps on the edge of explaining his strange outburst.]
[Here arises a series of complicated feelings, accompanied by thoughts he'd simply rather not have. Resting his hand loosely over his mouth, Benedict scowls at the ceiling and contemplates for several moments before answering.]
I think... [haltingly,] ...Mother is angry with me.
[Benedict has to think on it for a moment. He can't recall his mother ever being openly angry with him, just as he can't recall her ever being openly pleased with him-- fond of him, interested in him at all. To be treated like an associate who has displeased her is the logical explanation, but that only makes things harder.]
...I don't know why. [He knits his brow unhappily.] I don't know what I can do about it.
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yoooo
Waking now is slow and uneasy and Hanzo has to stop himself moving too much. Benedict is in his arms how, his own wrapped around him as he keeps him right against his chest, fingers brushing idly where they lay. He’d be embarrassed if he cared enough, but he’s had his share of drunken nights and. Well. Benedict might be more embarrassed.
Huffing a soft noise against his neck, Hanzo waits. ]
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It's nothing to panic over, not yet; he rolls onto his back with a sleepy sigh and is only a little perplexed to see Hanzo there.]
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He’s too tired for an argument right now. ]
Don’t move too much. It will hurt.
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When did I fall asleep, [he murmurs, not entirely bothered by whatever the answer is.]
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Not long after. The effect of the dragons can be exhausting. [ Hanzo does have some regrets. He knows Benedict wished to be hurt, but in his anger... ] It will take time.
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[Hanzo's arm over him puts pressure where he wishes it wouldn't, so Benedict puts his hand over it, gently guiding it upward to lay over his sternum instead of his middle.]
My mother wrote to me at last, [he murmurs, perhaps on the edge of explaining his strange outburst.]
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I knew something happened. [ He remembers Benedict's mother. ] You do not have to tell me.
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[A long pause, and then,] they've sold my... [it sounds stupid for a grown man to say 'nanny'] ...the woman who raised me.
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ah. He can appreciate that, at least; he saw less and less of his father and more of servants as he grew older. ]
Do you blame yourself?
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[Here arises a series of complicated feelings, accompanied by thoughts he'd simply rather not have. Resting his hand loosely over his mouth, Benedict scowls at the ceiling and contemplates for several moments before answering.]
I think... [haltingly,] ...Mother is angry with me.
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[ Hanzo reaches up, absently, covering Benedict's hand with his own lightly. ]
Mothers are often irritated with their children. I remember mine being much the same.
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...I don't know why. [He knits his brow unhappily.] I don't know what I can do about it.
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What would you like to do about it?
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...I... have to get her back.
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