[ There have only been a handful of times Steve's said his name quite like this, and an even fewer number where he felt absolutely powerless to do anything about it. Put this one on the list, up there with the flu that almost took him out when they were both too young and stupid for it. Somewhere above that time he fell off a goddamn train, because really he was a little more preoccupied with himself at the time.
There's really nothing quite like watching a loved one suffer to such a degree that you're half convinced it's going to kill them. He knows better, he knows, everything they've heard says they change back and then it's over. No reports of anyone dying during it, at least nothing caused by the transformation. The vulnerable state they're in to both other monsters and other people is a different matter.
Steve grabs at him and wilds against his chest, and all he can really do is grab back. He presses his forearm across the span of Steve's chest like a safety bar, because the only goddamn thing he can offer is to keep him from smacking his head on a stone, or to keep a wayward branch from digging into eye, mouth, nose during all the thrashing. ]
Alright, I got you.
[ Even though it's a veritable onslaught of Steve practically clawing at him emotionally, nails on a chalkboard, fingers in pressure points, pain in ways he can't even properly explain because it's not even physical.
It's killing him, not being able to take this away. He knows what the guy can handle without making much of a sound at all. The noises he's making now... ]
no subject
There's really nothing quite like watching a loved one suffer to such a degree that you're half convinced it's going to kill them. He knows better, he knows, everything they've heard says they change back and then it's over. No reports of anyone dying during it, at least nothing caused by the transformation. The vulnerable state they're in to both other monsters and other people is a different matter.
Steve grabs at him and wilds against his chest, and all he can really do is grab back. He presses his forearm across the span of Steve's chest like a safety bar, because the only goddamn thing he can offer is to keep him from smacking his head on a stone, or to keep a wayward branch from digging into eye, mouth, nose during all the thrashing. ]
Alright, I got you.
[ Even though it's a veritable onslaught of Steve practically clawing at him emotionally, nails on a chalkboard, fingers in pressure points, pain in ways he can't even properly explain because it's not even physical.
It's killing him, not being able to take this away. He knows what the guy can handle without making much of a sound at all. The noises he's making now... ]
Come on, come on, you gotta breathe-