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He still felt like he was leaching happiness from his brother, taking something that was never supposed to be his. He was the screw up. Neteyam was the golden child, he could do no wrong. He was shaking, like he was in a never ending frost. He waited for his brother to tell him it was his fault he never got to be happy, but he doesn’t. He can’t. He had visited him. He knows that is not what he thinks so why can’t he believe it. Shut up, Shut up. Maybe if he thinks it loud enough, long enough it will drown out the rest of his thoughts. What is wrong with him? His muscles tense without his command, he tries to relax them but as soon as they settle it starts all over again. Stop shaking. Stop shaking. A frantic chant in his head. His heart beating akin to that of an animal being hunted. He digs his finger nail into his forearms hoping for something he can’t name. He can’t see, but he can hear. When he hears Rotxo’s voice his head snaps toward it, quickly scrubbing his face to remove any trace of what had just happened. Rotxo smiles at him talking about the hunt as he begins to prepare the meal. Rambling like it is the most interesting thing in the world. As he finishes preparing their meal he turns and his eyes settle on Lo’ak; his hunched shoulders, templing hands, and lips bitten bloody. He tries to ignore it since if Lo’ak didn’t bring it up he probably wouldn't want to talk about it. As they sat down to eat, Lo'ak picked at his food, breaking it into small pieces.
“If you don’t eat you’re going to blow away one of these days.”
It pulls a dry laugh from his mouth. He moves to sit next to him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and pulling him into his lap.
“I am serious, you need to eat,” he said, running his fingertips over his face.
Lo’ak had always been thin but this was different. He was no longer thin with lean muscle; he was thin in the way there was nothing left. He thought he was doing better. So why did it seem like he was getting worse than before? It was as if as soon as the color had begun to reach his eyes he lost his sight.
“What’s wrong?” he murmured
Lo’ak looked off to the side for a moment, a battle going on behind his eyes. He turned back to him and looked at him with such sadness.
“I don’t know,” he sighed
How could he not know? Why didn’t he know? There is something wrong but he can’t name it. He felt a cold track down his cheek.
“Hey, hey,” Rotxo breathed out gently, “It is okay to not know.”
This only made him cry harder. He was being so kind and he couldn’t even tell him anything. Why? Why? Lo’ak pulled his hands up to his face, before he could even reach his face Rotxo took his hands in his and wiped his tears with his free hands. Stop crying, his brain commands him. Rotxo should not have to watch this. This though only makes him shake harder Rotxo folds over him pulling closer.
“I know, I know,” Rotxo murmured into his stomach, “It hurts and you don't understand.”
It was not that he didn’t understand, it was that the words to describe what he felt disappeared as soon as they reached his mouth.
“I don’t know the words,” came his shaky whisper.
God, why did we have to sound like that.
Before he could fall further into that train of thought, Rotxo hummed.
“What can I do?” He asked gazing up at him
What could he do? He didn’t know.
“I don’t know yet, but can you just be here?”
He didn’t even hesitate, “Yes,” he said before pausing, “but do you want to lay somewhere more comfortable?”
“Yes,” came his simple reply
As they moved over to Lo’ak’s hammock. Lo’ak climbed in first, while Rotxo watched. After he was settled he climbed in and laid nearly on top of Lo’ak, normally he would have asked before doing anything like this but he knew that it helped Lo’ak when he was panicking.
He had found this out when he was thrown into a panic after he cut his hand causing his hand to be covered in blood.
He had been breathing hard, whimpering “No, no, nonono,” the more panicked he got the faster he spoke.
He had reached out but that had only scared Lo’ak more and he began to rise. Rotxo began to panic if he ran out now he could get hurt. He had not meant to but he had tackled Lo’ak. He at first began to thrash but as Rotxo’s weight settled over him he started to calm down. After he had calmed down he had told Rotxo that putting his weight on him had helped.
It appeared that it helped this time as well as Lo’ak’s breathing slowed down. He was okay. Lo’ak was getting better, it was hard but Lo’ak was strong. They would be okay.