#long store

tw 1: a lot of hate and malice if you're not into that stuff tw 2: a whole lot of incoherent yapping

Sean falls heavily to his knees, pain jilting through his legs for a moment, and he buries his face in his hands. He doesn’t even know if he managed to shut the door behind him, but... it’s fine. A part of him expects a skeletal hand on his shoulder or a cat leaning on his leg, it eats them, but... they aren’t there. Larry is dealing with problems left from his life, and Ves is trying to help people evacuate a dying universe, and... Who knows where Synaelia is. Sean’s family is busy, so he is here to deal with things alone. Grieving someone he’s never met, but aching for that cold hand in his own. Wishing to see those unfairly golden eyes wrinkled in a laugh, and those dark yellow waves falling into the man’s face carelessly as he focuses on something. Sean can remember glimpses of this life that he’s never had, and... it hurts. Because in that life, he’s happy. And he’s got someone determined to stay by his side. And... it hurts, because eventually, in that life, it was taken away. A well placed spike of wood, and a rapidly aging corpse.

And then there’s a hand on his shoulder. A cold hand, but the wrong kind. Sean finds himself making a face before he really registers anything beyond who it is... and he pushes himself to his feet to glare at a rather familiar corpse.

“Didn’t I tell you to leave me alone?”

The words come out much harsher than he intends them to, but that’s just fine. The warlock’s eyes widen and the man raises his hands, taking a half step back.

“I... no, I’m sorry, you just...... Hurt. I... dammit, I wanted to know if I could... help... somehow...”

Amnes seems to have lost his air of confidence in the recent months. Sean doesn’t entirely know how he feels about that... but the fear? Sean earned that. Maybe not on his own, but... It’s nice to have, sometimes. Not that he would ever admit that, of course.

“You want to *help*? Fuck off and quit ruining people’s lives. That’s one hell of a start.”

Dead eyes fall to the ground, and Sean huffs to himself.

“We had a deal. I’ll patch up barriers if you go away, and you won’t have to worry about my problems any more. That work for you?”

Geryon doesn’t do anything for a long moment before nodding, and Sean wills the corpse to turn and walk out of the room. It’s not that hard, after all... he’s the one that raised him, so... there’s little to push past. Once it’s just Sean in the room again, the necromancer shuts and locks the door before going to flop onto his bed and trying to remember all the spells he needs to renew. It is going to be a... busy night.

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