Stark's apartment, Tuesday afternoon

[designateddadfriend]

Concussions really, really, really sucked.

Concussions when you didn't technically have an actual home and had been living in your fire station and as your not-a-boyfriend-shut-up-we-talked-about-it-and-agreed-we're-NOT-BOYFRIENDS pointed out fire stations are the opposite of restful and -- crap, where was that sentence going?

Right.

Concussions. Bad.

Anyway. Travis had been staying at Stark's, because Stark had said he should and Travis wasn't really in much shape to put up a fight at the moment because concussions really, really, really sucked. But at least Stark was doing his best not to hover -- mostly by spending as little time as possible in the apartment -- and Travis was doing his best not to be too boyfriend-y -- or tragic patient-y, he did not need those memories of the weeks recovering from the skyscraper with Grant, thanks -- by making his way from the bed to the couch every day when Stark went out.

Sometimes he just, you know, didn't make it all the way to the couch. It was fine. Floors were nice to sit on. And he could keep Probie company down here. Yeah, she could -- and did -- get on the couch with him too, but --

Floors were fine. He liked sitting on the floor. That was why he was sitting on the floor next to the couch and not on it. Not because he'd gotten dizzy and had to sit down abruptly and hadn't bothered to get up again yet.

. . . shut up.

[For the owner of said apartment, and likely slowplay. Woo!]

Comments

[stykera]

Stark had, indeed, been making excuses to leave the apartment so he wouldn't hover. For example, this time he'd gone out to get lunch and had gotten in a bit of a walk while he did so. He could have taken Probie with him but he preferred leaving her to watch Travis. Just in case.

"I brought back food," he called out as he walked in. "If you're hungry. You should eat."

He'd notice Travis being on the floor in a minute.

[designateddadfriend]

Travis sighed, head leaned against the wall. "I should," he agreed, without a lot of enthusiasm. "Thanks."

[stykera]

"There are sandwiches, for now," Stark said. "And soup."

Because soup was good when you were sick, right? Brain injuries totally counted.

"...why are you on the ground? You didn't fall, did you?" Yep. He'd noticed now.

[designateddadfriend]

Travis would roll his eyes, but that required opening them. "No, I didn't fall. I sat here on purpose."

Because he'd been smart enough to realize he would have fallen if he'd kept trying to get to the couch.

[stykera]

"Do you need...do you want help getting up? Or...you could eat there. If you want. It's fine. But the couch is more comfortable."

Stark walked over to set the food on the coffee table by the couch and then crouched down by Travis. "Are you alright?"

[designateddadfriend]

Travis waved an idle hand. “. . . Yeah, alright. I guess I could probably use a hand. I got dizzy. Have I mentioned that I don’t like concussions?”

[stykera]

"You may have mentioned it a few times," Stark said. "Come on then. Up off the floor. I'm sorry it still hurts..."

[designateddadfriend]

Travis let out a strangled groan as he let Stark help him to his feet.

“It’s just so dumb.”

[stykera]

"Being hurt?" Stark asked, wincing a little when he started to reach out with his right arm to help steady Travis. "I'd rather neither of us was. I'm sorry. Food might help. We'll sit here for a bit and have lunch. I brought a few different kinds of the sandwiches. I didn't want to bother you asking what you were hungry for."

"Come, sit." He tugged Travis gently in the direction of the couch. "It's more comfortable than the floor."

[designateddadfriend]

“It was a rookie mistake,” Travis said. “Taking off my helmet? On the first big fire in years. I might as well quit.”

[stykera]

"You were helping me," Stark said quietly. "So I wouldn't choke on all of the smoke more than I already was."

[designateddadfriend]

"I should have had a spare mask," Travis said. "But I sent it off with Nell." Which wasn't exactly the wrong thing to do. "I should have grabbed another one before I went in again, or -- or figured something else out. I can't help people if I become a casualty myself."

Moping was not helping his headache at all.

[stykera]

"You did help us," Stark pointed out. "You did exactly what you went in to do. And we're all, I think, mostly fine now. Aren't we?"

He'd gotten lightly toasted and breathed in smoke but Stark was relatively unharmed and Nell was doing better and nobody else had seemed to need too much medical attention.

"Everyone got out. Isn't that the most important thing?"

[designateddadfriend]

"It would have gone way better if we'd had an actual fire captain," Travis insisted. "Those warehouses should have been inspected ages ago. What if someone had gotten really hurt in there? Or died?!"

Probie yelped at him, climbing up into his lap. She was on your side, Stark, he needed to calm down!

[stykera]

"Nobody died. Nobody was even close to dying. I promise. I would have known. But that's thanks to you. And Buck, and Eddie. Everyone is still on this side where they belong."

He reached over to rub Probie's ears. "Good girl. You helped too."

[designateddadfriend]

"You were such a good girl," Travis agreed. A bit wetly. His brain was rolling right off the track on the whole 'what if someone died?' thing, and there was no stopping it now. "Such a good girl."

Oh, that last syllable definitely ended in a bit of a sob.

God, he hated concussions.

[stykera]

Well now you were getting a hug Travis. Even if it hurt Stark's arm to use both of them to pull you into that hug.

"You're alright," he said quietly. "We're all fine. Everyone is fine and you made sure of it."

[designateddadfriend]

“This is why I never wanted to be in charge,” Travis muttered. “If I ever did get someone killed. . . . like-like Pruitt, or Ripley — or —“

He choked.

“Or Michael.”

[stykera]

"Oh, Travis."

Stark held on tighter. "I'm sorry. So sorry. You must have...I'm so sorry."

[designateddadfriend]

Travis let himself go, sobbing into Stark’s shoulder for a long moment. He didn’t have the energy to hold it in at the moment anyway, even as it shamed him, to compare Michael’s loss to something as . . . small as this. As he felt this should be. Stark was right, hardly anyone was even hurt, for all that the fire had taken out a whole section of buildings. He was overreacting.

But he couldn’t stop.

“What am I even doing here?” he asked. “I’m not a leader. I have no business being in charge of a fire house.”

[stykera]

Grief was complicated. Stark understood that all too well.

"But you did fine," Stark told him. "What if you hadn't been here for this? But..."

[designateddadfriend]

“Then you wouldn’t have to deal with a sad sack crying on your living room floor.”

Hey! You were on his couch now, Travis!

[stykera]

"Or I might not have gotten out at all," Stark said gently. "I'm glad you're here. Even if you need to cry. You're allowed to cry. You're allowed whatever you need."

Stark still wasn't letting go.

[designateddadfriend]

If Stark wasn’t careful, Travis’s unreasonable anger would moodswing onto him for going into a burning building.

“I’m out of practice. Out of shape. Out of . . .” He trailed off with a groan. The crying wasn’t helping his headache either. But he wasn’t picking his head up off Stark’s shoulder.

“We got lucky.”

[stykera]

Stark loosened his grip just enough that he could rub a gentle circle on Travis's back.

"What do you need?" he asked softly. "I want to help."

Saying he thought Travis was in very good shape, while true, didn't feel terribly appropriate at the moment.

[designateddadfriend]

Neither would Travis saying "Vic" in answer to Stark's question. So he didn't, even though it was true.

"I don't know," he said instead. "I just -- I don't know."

[stykera]

"I'm sorry," Stark said again. "I don't know how to help but I'm sorry. And I'm here."

He kept up the gentle circle motion with his hand.

"Do you want food now? Or... you can stay right where you are."

[designateddadfriend]

Travis felt vaguely pathetic, but relieved that Stark didn’t push for any more answers, or for Travis to eat anything immediately, or for him to get up or — anything. So he stayed where he was, eyes closed, dog curled firmly against his legs, and waited to feel some version of . . . normal again.

[stykera]

"Do you need anything?" Stark asked a few minutes. "Water? Me to leave you alone?"

[designateddadfriend]

Travis sighed. Vic would already know. (Because he’d already had the tough conversations with her.)

“No,” he said. “Just. Let’s just stay here and. Put a movie on or something.”

Pretend they were normal for a while.

[stykera]

"We can stay here," Stark agreed. "I have plenty of time before class for a movie. Do you... here."

He let go of Travis with his right arm and reached for the remote. Will would not be impressed by the movement. Oops.

"Find whatever you like. And we can just sit. For a while."