#lr73

Lukas has always had a bit of an issue with getting stuck in his own head. Failures, real or simply perceived, were often a one-way ticket to a self-doubt spiral. Another thing that, despite their best attempts, nobody had ever quite gotten him to break out of.

Even Pat couldn't do it. He had gotten close, been good at keeping Lukas from descending too far down that road, but he still always found himself there.

(He shakes his head. Thinking of Pat now would only serve to undo the admittedly minimal work done by the cold water of the stream to pull him back.)

He knows he's going to be late getting back now. He got stuck in his head too long, going from scouting to simply wandering until he realized just how close to sunset it is. There is a guilt that seizes his heart, one that he has to try his best to swallow as he finally makes his way back.

By the time he enters the small campsite, it's fully dark, Lukas having to rely mostly on the memory of his movements to get back after a certain point. The small of dinner is faint, likely long missed, which sucks. He does enjoy the group's cooking, even if it can't beat a nice, actually home-cooked one.

The only people out, likely waiting for him, are Stillman and a once-again shifted Ty, this time in his dog form. The shifter perks up as Lukas approaches, which causes Stillman to look up as well. His face is neutral, but there's something in his eyes that tells Lukas he's not happy.

Despite this, Stillman gently nudges Ty. After a moment, the dog is a human again, and said human walks towards the tent that Lukas knows Chase is staying in. Probably to let him know that Lukas is alive.

With Ty gone, it leaves the two of them—Lukas and Stillman—alone, staring at each other from over the quietly crackling campfire.

There is a moment of silence, then Stillman speaks.

"Just because you don't care about this group doesn't mean you get to do whatever you want."

Lukas stares at him. "What?"

The glare leveled at Lukas is enough to have him shrinking back slightly. He's seen what Stillman (a real knight, a proper one) can do. He doesn't want to be on the receiving end of it.

"They were worried about you. You left—alone—on a scouting trip, and don't come back until after everyone else is getting ready to sleep. I know you don't want to be here forever, but the least you could do is pretend like you care."

"I do care," Lukas retorts, because he does. He really, really does. His voice comes out softer than he means for it to. "I'm just…"

(Keenly aware of the fact that this isn't what he needs, that he isn't what they need either. That he cares about them and they care about him but—)

"… I'm sorry." Lukas finally finishes, voice quiet. Stillman's gaze remains cold, colder than the stream had been, and Lukas can't really blame him.

The Abbys are everything to Stillman, but despite how grateful Lukas is to the group, that's not what they are to him.

"You should be." Stillman says flatly.

The flickering fire casts deep shadows onto Stillman's face, making him look more menacing than he really has any right to. But, if he wants to say anything else about it, it's cut off by Ty re-emerging from the tent, cutting into the tension in the air like a knife.

Lukas clears his throat. "I can, uh, take watch. Let you guys get some—"

"I'll be fine," Stillman cuts off Lukas, earning a slight look from Ty. Stillman, after a moment, sighs. "You've done enough today. Get some rest."

He had at least been called before they had to sever the pact, allowing Lukas time enough to rush home and begin packing before he had begun choking on way too much blood to be normal (or at least, as close to normal as any of this gets), part of him pried away by phantom talons in his chest.

He definitely hadn't been expecting that.

He had at least thought that hopefully, maybe, the flight to Vancouver would be easy. Quick, even. Instead he had to sleep in the airport, uncomfortable and feeling like he was going to end up consumed by this fresh, open Wound that he had to just… live with now.

Then he finally, finally gets there, and is playing that night. Even he knew to expect that it wouldn't be a pleasant experience, if it were anything comparable to what being Bound to The Hawk was like (it wasn't, if only because The Whale seemed to be slightly more cautious about it all), but adding a frantic (but not sloppy) edge to it definitely did not help.

Despite it all, though, despite the fact that he felt like death warmed over and his entire soul felt like it was trying to implode on itself, he did it. He played, he even gave interviews. Exhausted as he had been, he couldn't just deny that.

But once that's all over, once the reporters are gone and it's just the last vestiges of the team hanging around, it all seems to hit Lukas at once. Exhaustion, the echoing longing, the painpainpain—

He falls to his hands and knees, a wheeze knocking loose from his chest, sent somewhere up from where part of him used to be. His vision blurs, whether from tears or just his eyes refusing to work anymore, he isn't sure. He is sure he hears his name being called, and he is sure that this new Being is just as panicked as his teammates sound, but that all seems so far away.

He feels himself being maneuvered into a supine position, careful hands that are equally comforting and stinging. He doesn't fight it, he's not sure he could. He feels like he's underwater, an icy numbness leaking into his limbs slowly as he just stares up at his new teammate's faces. He feels almost feverish, stuck in a haze of feeling bad and uncomfortable, and he almost has the presence of mind to wonder if he does have a fever. He's never been traded before, maybe it's a side-effect?

He's in no state to ask about stuff like that right now, regardless.

They're saying other things now, careful murmuring that Lukas is sure is directed at him, but not matter how hard he tries, he can't parse the words. It's not until Hughes is hovering over him that things seem to unblur, if only slightly. He can feel Something gently nudging at his soul, attempting to focus him, but the steady, echoing undercurrent of panic-panic-wrong just serves to cause Lukas' heart rate to spike.

The Captain begins saying something, and slowly, sound returns.

"—Talk to me. Talk to me, Reichel. Scream, yell, breathe—I don't care. If you can hear me, just do something."

There's a ringing sound in his ears as he finally manages to gasp in a full breath—had he really not been breathing that whole time?—and he bolts upright, nearly smacking right into Hughes as he does. His Captain catches him by his shoulders just before they can collide, gripping just tight enough to further ground Lukas into the moment. For a moment, everything and everyone is quiet aside from Lukas' harsh, uneven breaths.

"Sorry," Lukas finally manages to squeeze out, wiping the tears—when had he actually started crying?—from his cheeks. "I'm sorry, I don't—"

"You don't need to apologize," Hughes says quietly, and the sentiment is echoed from Somewhere Else. It makes his chest ache, but almost pleasantly. Not like the way his new Wound does. "You're allowed to break down. You're, uh, expected to, basically."

He rubs gentle circles into Lukas' back, helping the younger man calm down, if only somewhat. The rest of the team have either filtered out already, or are beginning to now that Lukas is about okay as someone can be, in this situation, basically leaving him alone with Hughes. The Captain breaks the relapsed silence this time.

"You're okay."

It's a reassurance more than anything, one that is again distantly echoed in by the Being he is now bound to. Lukas nods, though it doesn't feel very convincing.

There's still another game tomorrow.

"Get some rest, okay?" Hughes helps Lukas to his feet, slowly but surely. "We're here for you."