"Yes, that's right." He still remembers Parker. The way he smiled.
Can't admit he loved his partner.
Sheehan rubs at his face again, inspecting the bruising and irritation on his wrists like that's the most important thing at the moment.
"Since then, I thought - that's surely the worst it can get. Losing my memories. Losing myself. That's what I fear the most. Even now, sitting here, I don't know if I'm here or if I'm dreaming."
Arthur's face falls to sobriety as Sheehan talks, but his hand pulls back now, just so he can adjust himself and sit up a bit straighter.
But he still has to take a deep breath, before he replies. "I know how that feels, doctor. To... to not be able to trust the world around you, t-to doubt everything your senses, your mind is telling you, because... because something else is toying with it."
He shifts so he can touch Sheehan again, grip his shoulder and give him something to focus on. "I don't know how much it helps, right now, but- you are here, doctor. This is real. You're here and you're safe."
Sheehan reaches up and places his hand on Arthur's. "I want it to help, so it does," he assures him. "I - fuck, it's selfish, but I'm glad it was you who was here."
Reality is hard, but he's not in the mood to mask what he's thinking.
And Arthur doesn't flinch, under the touch. There's just a faint, bashful smile, his face turning away just a fraction from the magnitude of appreciation in his chest as he squeezes Sheehan's shoulder.
"I'm just glad I have the relevant experience to help," he chuckles softly. "I can't say it's a set of memories I've expected to draw on so frequently."
The smile fades a fraction, replaced by a faint quirk of his brow at the request. He hadn't thought he'd been being dishonest about anything, there, but if Sheehan just wants more context...?
"There was a flood, last December. Quite shortly after John and I arrived, er- about a month and a half, perhaps a bit more. It let us... see into our futures, in a sense, we would- we discovered what would happen, if we hadn't gotten picked up by the Admiral." He pulls his hand away, just to rest it in his own lap and pick idly at the seam on his pants. "We learned that... the King does find us, eventually. That he- tricks me, into not trusting John, as we enter a temple dedicated to him. Isolates me, and... uses my memories against me. Changes the way I-I was able to understand the world around me, so I couldn't-- that meant every step I took was just walking further into his trap. I couldn't keep my own mind together, because every time I thought I had a hold on it, something changed."
He takes a breath, slow and tense. "It's why I hate my own memories being tampered with. Because I can't- I don't have the luxury to assume it's as benign as a flood."
This was not a normal truth; this was a selfish one. He wanted to hear Arthur's voice, hear him talk about something in the way he knows how. He wanted reassurance that Arthur was still there, that he's still real.
He leans against him briefly, encouragingly. Letting him know that he's saying just the right thing.
"I- knew you'd learned about your future. I didn't know what that actually entailed. I - god, I've seen what the mind does, on its own, without supernatural influence. That's what frightens me the most."
Sheehan leaning against him is... weirdly reassuring. And he leans back against him, reinforcing the contact, taking Sheehan's weight so he can relax.
"My understanding of the whole debate is that- supernatural influence can only open cracks that already exist. If there's nothing there to force that further open, then- usually people would be able to recover with only a normal amount of shock," he adds, more of an amused tone than is probably appropriate, but fuck it. They've both earned the right, at this point.
"That's a hell of a thing to do. Everyone has cracks; that's the nature of humanity. No one of us is immune to it. It's settled in us as children, young men and women, and then it influences everything we do."
He talks just to talk, though there's no real inflection to it. He feels so strangely numb, like the world is just outside his reach. He knows what's happening; he knows that he's attempting to cope by trying to disassociate, but he rakes a hand down his face again, focusing on that sensation, keeping himself here.
The flatness in Sheehan's tone is... concerning, to say the least. And Arthur can feel himself starting to flounder a little internally, even if on the outside he stays calm and even, pressed against Sheehan.
And then, perhaps a little abruptly. "Doctor- have you had anything to eat at all, recently? It didn't seem like your- er, well, th-that you were, I-I supposed inclined to, earlier. You must be fucking starving."
Sheehan could kiss him, and not for the usual reason. It's a go"ddamn brilliant suggestion and Sheehan's forced to focus on himself again, to the way his stomach aches and his head hurts.
"'Fucking starving' doesn't begin to describe it."
God, the change in tone for Sheehan sends such a wave of relief through Arthur that he visibly brightens, a smile making its way back onto his face with no hesitation.
"Right! Well-" And he pulls away from Sheehan, so he can stand up properly. "We've got no shortage of biscuits, if you plan on eating your weight in sugar, but we've got some wonderful stew as well- John made it a night ago, now, and bread to go with it."
"I hope you like snickerdoodles, in that case." It's hard to be upset when you have to say the word snickerdoodles. "We've got some chocolate chip ones as well, they don't usually leave the kitchen since they're so messy."
He's not sure where his cane went at this point (since it rolled slightly and ended up partially under the bed) but he doesn't need it in John's room anyway, and he leads the way to the kitchen. "Most of them are going to be made with coconut sugar, since it's Natalie's favourite."
"They should be on the counter, I believe," he comments as they walk in; the kitchen is very similiar to Arthur's, stylistically, but slightly more modern with, indeed, a set of cookies in a tupperware container on the counter. "I can make us some tea if you'd like something to cut through the flavours, at least. Or coffee, but I can't imagine you need more reasons to be unsteady."
"Tea's fine if you're making it, but some water would be fine, too. I didn't drink any of that, either. It was - " He sighs. "It wasn't rational. Any of it. I was just mirroring Andrew's delusions."
"Right, yeah." He knows where the kettle is, so he'll make them two cups of tea, but he'll also pour a glass of water for Sheehan as well, sliding it over to him while the kettle's boiling. "You said you- I-I suppose Teddy thought it as well, that the cigarettes were drugged."
"That uh...that was deliberate on our part. Mine and Cawley's. After the storm, our clothes were soaked. We changed and the orderlies gave us a pack of their cigarettes. Made it seem deliberate that our cigarettes got ruined."
He laughs to himself. "I should repay them when I get back."
"How was that supposed to work, anyway?" It's genuine curiosity, not derision. "You basically set up a whole conspiracy for him to explore, right? Get him to- to play it through to the end and he'd realise he was Andrew?"
There's no point in hiding it now, he supposes. All his secrets have been laid bare, spread out on the floor.
"It was his delusion. His conspiracy. He talked about it for years in bits and pieces. We just - finally let him have run of the place. Played along. Set up clues that would lead him to the lighthouse where we could confront him. We would have had more time, but he assaulted another patient when I lost track of him."
He hums sympathetically. "So I suppose after that point you'd understand his delusions just as well as Teddy does. No wonder they came through for you so readily."
"Yes. At his worst, he was picking clues out of nowhere, so we had to give him the clues. The rule of 4. Who is 67. We were trying to guide him to the realization that the conspiracy was him. He had created it."
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2023-10-19 01:49 am (UTC)Can't admit he loved his partner.
Sheehan rubs at his face again, inspecting the bruising and irritation on his wrists like that's the most important thing at the moment.
"Since then, I thought - that's surely the worst it can get. Losing my memories. Losing myself. That's what I fear the most. Even now, sitting here, I don't know if I'm here or if I'm dreaming."
no subject
Date: 2023-10-19 02:05 am (UTC)But he still has to take a deep breath, before he replies. "I know how that feels, doctor. To... to not be able to trust the world around you, t-to doubt everything your senses, your mind is telling you, because... because something else is toying with it."
He shifts so he can touch Sheehan again, grip his shoulder and give him something to focus on. "I don't know how much it helps, right now, but- you are here, doctor. This is real. You're here and you're safe."
no subject
Date: 2023-10-19 02:14 am (UTC)Reality is hard, but he's not in the mood to mask what he's thinking.
no subject
Date: 2023-10-19 02:22 am (UTC)"I'm just glad I have the relevant experience to help," he chuckles softly. "I can't say it's a set of memories I've expected to draw on so frequently."
no subject
Date: 2023-10-19 02:25 am (UTC)"You never know what might come in handy at the most opportune moments."
He finally lowers his head. "Detective. Tell me a truth."
no subject
Date: 2023-10-19 02:35 am (UTC)"There was a flood, last December. Quite shortly after John and I arrived, er- about a month and a half, perhaps a bit more. It let us... see into our futures, in a sense, we would- we discovered what would happen, if we hadn't gotten picked up by the Admiral." He pulls his hand away, just to rest it in his own lap and pick idly at the seam on his pants. "We learned that... the King does find us, eventually. That he- tricks me, into not trusting John, as we enter a temple dedicated to him. Isolates me, and... uses my memories against me. Changes the way I-I was able to understand the world around me, so I couldn't-- that meant every step I took was just walking further into his trap. I couldn't keep my own mind together, because every time I thought I had a hold on it, something changed."
He takes a breath, slow and tense. "It's why I hate my own memories being tampered with. Because I can't- I don't have the luxury to assume it's as benign as a flood."
no subject
Date: 2023-10-19 02:59 am (UTC)He leans against him briefly, encouragingly. Letting him know that he's saying just the right thing.
"I- knew you'd learned about your future. I didn't know what that actually entailed. I - god, I've seen what the mind does, on its own, without supernatural influence. That's what frightens me the most."
no subject
Date: 2023-10-19 03:36 am (UTC)"My understanding of the whole debate is that- supernatural influence can only open cracks that already exist. If there's nothing there to force that further open, then- usually people would be able to recover with only a normal amount of shock," he adds, more of an amused tone than is probably appropriate, but fuck it. They've both earned the right, at this point.
no subject
Date: 2023-10-19 11:11 am (UTC)He talks just to talk, though there's no real inflection to it. He feels so strangely numb, like the world is just outside his reach. He knows what's happening; he knows that he's attempting to cope by trying to disassociate, but he rakes a hand down his face again, focusing on that sensation, keeping himself here.
no subject
Date: 2023-10-19 12:11 pm (UTC)And then, perhaps a little abruptly. "Doctor- have you had anything to eat at all, recently? It didn't seem like your- er, well, th-that you were, I-I supposed inclined to, earlier. You must be fucking starving."
no subject
Date: 2023-10-19 12:27 pm (UTC)"'Fucking starving' doesn't begin to describe it."
There it is. A smile. An actual laugh.
no subject
Date: 2023-10-19 01:18 pm (UTC)"Right! Well-" And he pulls away from Sheehan, so he can stand up properly. "We've got no shortage of biscuits, if you plan on eating your weight in sugar, but we've got some wonderful stew as well- John made it a night ago, now, and bread to go with it."
no subject
Date: 2023-10-19 01:39 pm (UTC)He isn't sure about the stew, only because he doesn't know if he can stomach something heavy after not eating for three days.
no subject
Date: 2023-10-19 10:49 pm (UTC)He's not sure where his cane went at this point (since it rolled slightly and ended up partially under the bed) but he doesn't need it in John's room anyway, and he leads the way to the kitchen. "Most of them are going to be made with coconut sugar, since it's Natalie's favourite."
no subject
Date: 2023-10-19 11:56 pm (UTC)He doesn't know the first thing about that, but he's happy to try it out.
"I'll take aby cookies at this rate."
He follows Arthur, heartbeat slowing slightly.
no subject
Date: 2023-10-20 02:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-10-20 02:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-10-20 02:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-10-20 02:50 am (UTC)He laughs to himself. "I should repay them when I get back."
no subject
Date: 2023-10-20 02:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-10-20 10:18 am (UTC)"It was his delusion. His conspiracy. He talked about it for years in bits and pieces. We just - finally let him have run of the place. Played along. Set up clues that would lead him to the lighthouse where we could confront him. We would have had more time, but he assaulted another patient when I lost track of him."
no subject
Date: 2023-10-20 10:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-10-20 11:04 am (UTC)He leans against the counter.
no subject
Date: 2023-10-20 11:13 am (UTC)"I'm sorry, doctor," he says gently, picking up one of the mugs by the rim to offer Sheehan the handle. "For all that it did and didn't work."
no subject
Date: 2023-10-20 01:51 pm (UTC)"Thanks. But that's why I'm here. If I can't help him, then someone has to."