theboywhodied | A quick and dirty hurt/comfort meme

Though he feels a rising sense of dread, Cedric would be lying to himself to claim he was entirely surprised. They're from different worlds. Howard's always been different about food, always concerned that there's enough to eat and that nothing is wasted. And Howard does tend to disappear for hours at a time.

And this is the explanation. He walks over to the couch, sitting at a safe distance. It's usually safest to close the gap slowly.

"Hey yourself," Cedric whispers back. "What's going on?"

He doesn't expect an answer right away. He just needs an initial response to figure out which way to go.

"Nothing."

Which is, obviously, complete and utter bullshit.

Howard's torn between reaching out to Cedric and eating more mayonnaise. He goes with the mayonnaise. He dips his hand into the jar and licks it off his fingers. He's shaking so hard that most of it ends up around his mouth rather than in it.

"I can't stop."

"I see." He doesn't, but it's something to say as he tries to work it out. He knows Howard has lingering issues like this. There just needs to be a way to deal with it---hard, when he's never dealt with something like this before.

He pushes the box of tissues over, in case Howard feels the need to wipe his hands. "You're having nightmares?"

"Yeah. I mean, just the usual, nothing new or..." Granted, Howard never lets Cedric in on what constitutes 'the usual' out of some mixed-up combination of pride and shame and urge to protect Cedric from those sorts of things. He hiccups. "And I think I'm panicking. God, I'm just wasting all this food..."

He waits for Cedric's response to the revelation that his boyfriend is, in fact, completely mentally ill and just really good at hiding it. Ignoring the tissue box, he plunges his hand back into the jar.

"And I've already thrown up twice and I can't stop eating more. You have no idea how disgusting I feel right now."

"I can fix the food problem," Cedric promises, flashing his wand. "You don't ever have to worry about that."

He waits patiently as Howard speaks, taking this slowly.

"No, I can't imagine I'd have an idea. But what would happen if you stopped?"

This is where he works out how to act next. Take the jar by force? Talk him down? He doesn't know.

"It doesn't matter that you can. I know you can. I know we're totally fine and I still can't stop." But as much as it frustrates Howard to have how totally illogical this is pointed out, at least Cedric hasn't come out and called it crazy.

"It's like...if I stop, everyone's going to drop dead. Or a jet's going to fall out of the sky and crash into the house. Or something awful. Like not those things exactly, but..." More mayonnaise. "That kind of dread. That intense of dread. As soon as I stop. And usually I can stop once I made myself sick but I'm just having a really, really bad night right now."

"Yes you can," Cedric insists. It's all he can think to say. "Maybe not right this second, but you can stop. You have before, and you will."

Now how do they get from Point A to Point B? That's the question. He inches closer, tentatively extending a hand toward Howard's shoulder. "I'm here. I'm here to stay. And as long as I'm here, I'm going to fight whatever comes."

Howard knows deep down that he will. Eventually. He can't keep bingeing forever, he just has to ride this out, but as logical as that is, he feels like he's at the bottom of a deep well and can't even see the way up. He scooches on the couch over to Cedric, craving more of that touch that grounds him.

"I'm so scared, Ced." He leans a head against Cedric's shoulder and hugs the jar close.

"I know, Howard," Cedric answers, fully extending his arm and pulling Howard into his side. It's the least he can do for him. "It's a scary world. But it won't get us."

He'll do his absolute best to make sure of that.

"How many people do you think say that and get killed anyway?" Howard sighs and shudders all the way up through his shoulders. "Maybe it'd be easier if it did get us. Then at least it would be over."

He scoops more mayonnaise into his mouth and swallows past gagging.

"I'll fight it," Cedric swears. He knows deep down that Howard's right, that life is cruel and death happens randomly, but...

"I don't know about you, but I really like what we have here. I'm not giving it up," he repeats, giving Howard's shoulders a comforting squeeze. "I wouldn't miss this."

"I would." Which, while it may not be true always, is true in this moment right now, when he's this scared and miserable. It's hard to tell Cedric that what keeps him here on bad nights is not the thought of Cedric sleeping in the next room, but just the fear of dying. Nothing more or less. He'd give up on living through fear and pain entirely if he wasn't more terrified of what might happen next. "I'm sorry."

Cedric doesn't know what to say. Is there anything he can say? Doubtful. He holds Howard close, rubbing his shoulder. Even the mayonaise won't stop him---he'll just shower later.

"Okay. But that's not right now. I mean...do you really want me to have to write 'death by mayonaise' on your obituary?"

"I'm not going to die by mayonaise, stupid." Generally these kinds of moods bring out some of the worst aspects of Howard's personality, the tendency to snap at Cedric without provocation. And it's married to that counter-intuitive clinginess, because he clutches at Cedric's shirt while he says that. "I feel like I'm going crazy."

"Right, of course not." Cedric's only a little hurt. He knows better than to let Howard get to him too much when he's upset like this. All he can do is continue to hold Howard close, hoping that it's all going to be okay someday.

"I've got you." That's not changing.

"Okay." Howard whispers into Cedric's chest and squeezes him. He never wants to let go, because as long as he's holding on to Cedric he can feel that Cedric is alive and close and well-fed and loves him, oh so much. "Don't leave me, okay? Not over this."

"I wouldn't think of it," Cedric whispers back, keeping Howard in that safe hold. He rubs Howard's shoulder in steady circles, working at calming him. It'd be great if they could both sleep tonight.

He uses his free hand to summon some things, just in case---drinking glasses, pillows, and a plastic bag. Best to be prepared at a moment's notice.

"Right here. It's okay." Cedric concentrates on breathing steadily, hoping the rhythm will be of some use. "We're not going anywhere, unless it's back to bed."

"Okay." Howard squeezes his eyes shut and just focuses on Cedric, the rhythmic circles, the rise and fall of Cedric's chest. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't want to be like this, I don't want you to see me like this, I don't want..."

Breathing. Mimicking Cedric's, because without that to follow his own is fast and tight and makes him dizzy.

"It's never over. I keep thinking I'm going to wake up one morning and I'll be okay again and we can be happy together and that'll be it."

"I know, I know. We'll get through it."

Cedric holds on, hoping for a little restoration of calm. It can happen, they can get some rest eventually. He has to believe it will.

"Things like that...maybe they don't go away, but I think they'll fade. We'll be happy in between the bad days---you still have that, you always will."

He nods, but at the same time he asks a question in the other direction. "What if I don't?"

"Then I've been abducted by aliens and replaced with a Cedric drone," he jokes. "But honestly---you have skills to offer the world. Somehow, you'll make it, even if you hide them sometimes. And I'll be here to help you," he promises again.

"I don't care about offering skills to the world. I just want to be okay." With effort, he screws the lid onto the mayonnaise jar and sets it aside. He's trying. He licks his fingers again and curls back up into Cedric's embrace. "And for you to be okay too."

"Alright, then we'll focus on that," Cedric shifts gears, securing Howard in his arms. He knows not to hold too tightly, but just enough to let Howard know that he's proud of him. They're going to make it.

"I'm not going anywhere, see?" With some effort, he stretches them on the couch. Howard can lie on top of him, Cedric will bear the bumps of the cushions. Limbs will fall asleep at this rate, but he doesn't care.

"Okay." Howard leans onto Cedric's chest with a bit of a groan. His stomach is cramping and he has a headache to go with it, and his throat is burning from being sick earlier, but if he can keep from stuffing more food in his mouth he's probably through the worst of it. "Thank you."

Maybe they can move back to the bed later. Howard doesn't want to move now. Moving might upset that delicate balance they've just reached, where the warmth and safety and calmness of staying here with Cedric outweighs the comfort the food promises and fails to bring. He can feel the burn of acid and sticky mayonnaise at the back of his throat, and he sends some wish up to the ether that he can just fall asleep here, with Cedric, and stay asleep the whole night without vomiting. Please, give him this peace.

He shifts his weight so his bony hips and knees are more on the couch than on Cedric and closes his eyes.

Cedric's thoughts briefly touch on the same theme. He lays his wand out on the side table, ready to clean up any messes and make things comfortable.

"You'll be good as new soon. I'll make sure of it." And he will! He's gathered up a few herbs, and while he's no medi-wizard, Cedric knows a little more about medicine than he did before. He can even handle some things the Muggle way now, thanks to Howard.

Cedric breathes deeply, rubbing circles between Howard's shoulders in the hopes of lulling him to sleep. Not too roughly, softness is the way. That stomach doesn't nee to be jarred.

A quick and dirty hurt/comfort meme

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Aww Cedric.

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