Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rand woke from a restless sleep to the sound of something crashing somewhere in their home.

He jolted upright, a sense of panic filling every part of his body, adrenaline filling his veins as his mind told him to run, hide, fight back, protect, protect, protect. Someone was attacking them, they weren't safe, it was the fucking bugs or the government or something-

He forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to follow the stupid fucking breathing exercises Kian had shown him. In for four seconds, hold for seven, out for eight. Repeat, inhale through his nose, hold, exhale through his mouth. Repeat again. And again. Until he felt a little less like breaking down, until the thoughts of danger and needing to protect himself and his friends were nothing more than background noise.

Inhale again, everything was fine. Hold, Kian had probably just dropped something in the kitchen. Exhale, they were safe, they were safe, they were safe. He kept repeating it to himself over and over again, whispering it under his breath with each exhale. He was safe. His friends were safe. Nothing would hurt them, everything was okay.

He let out another shaky breath, his heart was still beating out of his chest but at least he didn't feel as much on the verge of a panic attack. Inhale, hold, exhale. It was fine. He was fine. A quick look at the clock hanging on his wall showed that it was a little after seven am, so at least he hadn't woken up way too early or anything.

He rubbed his eyes, going through the five steps to ensure he knew what was happening. Step one, what could he remember? It had snowed. They'd gone outside to the snow, had a snowball fight, it had been a nice, calm day, nothing bad had happened, nobody had gotten hurt. They'd just acted like kids, played in the snow and then cuddled up on the couch to watch movies together.

There was a part of him that wanted to call it unrealistic. That it was too nice, too happy, he must have imagined it or made it up. But his hallucinations and delusions and whatever the fuck else… they weren't usually of nice things. They were almost always terrifying things he didn't want to happen. And everything that had happened the previous day… it was the kind of shit they might have done as teens. It wasn't weird or out of character. It was just happier than they usually got to be.

And none of his memories seemed to conflict with each other. Slowly, hesitantly, he stood up, wincing at the ever-present ache in his back just below his shoulder. It hurt more than it usually did today, but it was fine. He could ignore it.

He stepped over to his window, pulling open his curtain just a little bit. It was still dark, but he could see plenty of snow still on the ground, so his memories also lined up with what he could perceive right now. They were probably real. Nothing bad had happened, everything was fine.

But what had that crashing sound that woke him up been? It had come from somewhere else in the house, from the direction of the living room and kitchen. Most likely, it was either Barc getting hyper early in the morning and crashing into shit, or Kian accidentally dropping something. He couldn't hear anything else, so it seemed unlikely anyone was breaking in or badly hurt. And who the hell would break in somewhere at seven in the morning anyways? No, it was probably either one of his friends or Barc.

That was the most reasonable answer. It was the one that lined up with the reality he could perceive, it was the one that made the most sense. But there was nevertheless a part of him that was refusing to believe it, that was still screaming at him that he wasn't safe, that something was wrong, that he needed to do something, anything to protect himself and his friends.

At least today, those thoughts were easier to ignore than they were at other times. He sighed, walking over to his closet and grabbing the closest pair of pants he found, pulling them on with some struggle in the dark and with the pain still radiating from his shoulder. Sure, he could have turned the light on, but fuck that, too much effort. The shirt he'd worn to sleep was still clean enough, especially considering he had no plans of leaving the house- except maybe to hang out with Barc in their yard for a bit- so he didn't bother changing it.

Even if his beloved Led Zeppelin t-shirt was definitely not warm enough for the current temperature. A shiver ran down his spine, and he almost wished he would have still had his jacket to wear. Almost. It was more important that Kian could get something out of it… and there was the smell of blood that clung to it. But Jesus, some kind of jacket or sweater would have been great right now.

He didn't bother dwelling on it too much, though. Instead, he simply grabbed his sunglasses from his bedside table, putting them on despite the darkness still all around him, and exited his room into the hallway.

He nearly stepped right on top of Barc, who'd been lying in front of his door, and was now getting up as quickly as his old bones would allow while whining sadly at Rand. A new spike of anxiety shot through him at that, why wasn't Barc with Kian?

Looking around the dark hallway, only illuminated by the lights in the living room, he saw no sign of his friend anywhere. But Barc was supposed to stay with Kian, to make sure he was safe and okay when Rand couldn't. He kneeled down to be almost eye level with his dog, trying to keep himself from panicking as his mind began reeling.

"Hey, bud. Where's Ki? Why aren't you with him?" Barc whined again, before grabbing Rand by his pant leg and tugging on it in a clear ask for him to follow after him. Rand stood up straight again, and followed after his dog as Barc led him through the living room and into the kitchen.

He let out a sigh of relief as his eyes landed on Kian in the kitchen, though the anxiety from earlier was instantly replaced with a new kind of concern. Kian was kneeling on the floor in front of a small puddle of water, seemingly trying to dry it up with a towel. One of their pots was laying on the floor next to him, presumably as the source of the spill.

Well, at least that answered the question of what the crashing sound had been.

Kian looked up as Rand entered after Barc, giving him a weak smile that didn't get even close to appearing genuine. He looked… bad. Not bad bad, but just… like something was wrong. His hair was still a complete mess, he was wearing nothing but boxers and a t-shirt that was a couple sizes too big for him, and he didn't have any makeup on.

All of that would have been fine, it was fucking seven am, but Kian almost never left his room without dolling himself up first. The fact that he looked like any reasonable person would so early in the morning was enough reason to be concerned when it came to Kian.

"Mornin', dude." Kian's voice was rougher than usual, almost like there was something stuck in his throat. Rand stepped further into the kitchen, as Barc walked over to Kian's side, nudging him softly while whining. Kian didn't pay the dog any mind, though, instead going back to drying up the mess on the floor.

"…morning. What happened?"

"It's nothing, man, just accidentally dropped the pot. Sorry if the sound woke you up."

Kian was clearly trying to keep his voice calm and light, but it wasn't working. And with every second that passed, Rand became even more convinced that something was seriously wrong.

For one, Barc was acting concerned, and Rand trusted his dog's intuition. For two, looking closer at Kian, Rand could also see some extremely dark bags under his eyes, a distinct lack of color on his even paler than usual face, and a slight tremor to all of his movements. And lastly, the entire situation made no fucking sense.

Kian wasn't strong physically, sure, but he shouldn't have been weak enough to be unable to carry a small pot of water from the sink to the stove. And also, that crashing sound that Rand now knew the origin of, had happened several minutes ago. Drying up all the water from the floor wasn't a task that took that long, which Rand knew for a fact, since Kian was now seemingly done with it, and was slowly- too slowly- standing back up.

He let out a heavy breath as he got to a standing position, like just the act of doing so was enough to leave him winded. Something was really fucking clearly wrong, Rand just wasn't sure what.

"What's up with you?" Jesus, that came out way fucking ruder than he'd meant for it to. Which was evident from the confused and slightly hurt look Kian gave him in response, he hadn't meant it like that, he'd just meant that something was clearly wrong with him and Rand didn't feel like wasting time trying to ask him if he was okay when they both knew he obviously wasn't.

"What? Sorry, dude, but I don't-" Kian didn't get to finish his sentence as without warning he was taken over by a coughing fit. It wasn't a small or a short one either, it was bad enough that Kian would probably have fallen straight onto the floor if Rand hadn't been close enough to grab him.

He barely even had time to comprehend his own actions before Kian was in his arms, still coughing as he clung to Rand like his life depended on it, his fingers digging into Rand's skin from how tightly he was holding onto him. Rand did his best to support Kian's weight, ignoring the pain from his own body as Kian's body gave out underneath him, his legs fully collapsing from the force of the coughs.

Even when they eventually stopped, Kian's body was still limp in his arms, his breathing wheezy and strained as small tears ran down his cheeks. Rand reached over with one hand to wipe them away almost on instinct, before moving his hand to Kian's forehead to check his temperature.

He wasn't sure whether the result he got was better or worse than he'd expected. He'd thought that Kian would have been burning up with a fever, or at least warmer than usual, but no, it was the opposite. He was fucking freezing cold, it was like touching stone rather than a living person. Rand wasn't a medical expert or anything, but that definitely didn't seem good.

Rand pulled his hand back away from Kian's forehead- which got a small, surprising whine out of Kian as he tried to reach to get it back, before seemingly catching himself and flushing red in embarrassment. He flinched, trying to pull away from Rand and finally easing off how tightly he was holding him, but yeah, no, fuck that. Rand kept holding him, and with how low energy Kian was, it wasn't at all difficult to keep him in place.

"Dude-" Kian began to speak, probably to tell him to let go, his voice even weaker and raspier than before, but he was cut off by the sound of Rolan's bedroom door opening. He saw the blush on Kian's face get even deeper- at least he wasn't as pale anymore, although Rand didn't really know if this was much better- as he tried- and failed- to once again pull away from Rand's hold. Rand didn't budge, though, he was about ninety percent sure that if he let go Kian would have just fallen right onto the kitchen floor within seconds.

A couple seconds passed with nothing filling the silence except for Kian's labored breathing before Rolan stepped into the kitchen. His hands froze while he was in the middle of tying his tie as his eyes landed on Kian and Rand and darted between the two of them in clear confusion.

"…what's going on?"

"It's nothi-"

"Kian's sick."

Rand didn't let Kian even try to finish his sentence, not that it would have mattered when he still sounded so out of breath and even Rolan wasn't gullible enough to believe his bullshit right now. Kian let out a quiet groan, while Rolan's expression slowly changed from confusion into concern. His eyes widened as he looked back to Kian, and Rand could hear a quiet, rythmic clicking sounding from his throat as he speed-walked over to them.

"You- click -you're sick?" Kian tried to shift away from them both, but his efforts were even more futile now than they'd been earlier, as Rolan also gently grabbed onto his arm to keep him steady while checking his temperature with the back of his hand. Rand watched as Rolan's brows furrowed and his frown deepened as he also felt how freezing cold Kian was.

"I'm not- dudes, it's fine, just- just a little cold-" He tried to insist, but his claims were made even less credible when immediately after he was hit by another coughing fit. It lasted for a shorter amount of time and was much weaker than the last, but it still sent Kian falling right back into Rand's hold, clinging onto him with what was probably more instinct than a conscious decision.

Rolan moved quickly, grabbing hold of Kian to help keep him up as well- which was a fucking relief, Rand's shoulder felt like it was burning at this point- as his clicks increased in volume and were joined by a gentle buzzing. Rand fought back his immediate instinct of discomfort and fear at the sounds, it was fine. It was just Rolan, not the fucking hive, it was all fine.

"You shouldn't- clickclick -what are you doing up? You- clickclick -you should be in bed, Kian, you'll get more- click -sick like this." Rolan's voice was gentle yet firm, filled with worry and care even through the clicking and buzzing. Kian shook his head in response, though at least it seemed like he'd given up on trying to get away for now.

"I'm fine, don't- you don't need to worry, man… I can't- I'm not gonna fucking laze around in bed all day cause of a stupid fucking cough-"

"Yeah, you are. You need to rest, Ki, or you're gonna get way worse."

"It's my own fucking fault for not- not being careful enough, dude…"

"No- click -no, it's not, and even if it were, you still- click -you should still be taking it easy when you're not feeling well."

"Ro's right. Would you tell either of us that we need to stay up and not 'laze around' or whatever the fuck if we were sick? 'Cause I highly doubt that you would, same rules apply to you."

Kian mumbled something incomprehensible in response, his eyes fluttering closed and his body slumping even further with each second that passed, like he was struggling to even stay awake. And even despite that, he still tried to uselessly pull away from them, his attempts getting weaker and weaker with each time.

Rand sighed, surely Kian could tell that this wasn't a fight he could win, right? But then again, he knew Kian could be stubborn with a lot of shit. And especially with anything regarding his own health, how many times had he come to school while on the verge of passing out, or vomiting every few minutes, or with a fever high enough that you could feel the heat radiating off of him even from a couple feet away?

All of those times, no matter how sick he'd been, Kian wouldn't be willing to go home and rest unless he was physically forced to. And nobody tended to force him unless absolutely necessary, because most people didn't care, and the people who did- like Rand himself, or Rolan, or Mr Dickman- didn't have the heart to make Kian go back home when they knew how much he hated being there.

Kian had had that as an excuse back then. That he hadn't wanted to be home, that his parents wouldn't let him rest anyways, that he didn't want to deal with them. And Rand had offered to take him to his place to rest instead, but Kian had made a shitty and gross joke about how he wouldn't mind Rand's mom 'taking care' of him, after which Rand hadn't brought it up.

And since Kian refused to go to the nurse's office either- which Rand couldn't blame him for, the nurse at their school had been an absolute asshole that accused everyone of faking everything to get out of class, whether that was a cold or a broken bone- they hadn't really had any choice but to let Kian stay up and get even more sick until he became physically unable of getting out of bed and was forced to stay home anyways. They hadn't liked it, but they hadn't really had any other options.

The difference now was, they didn't need to play along with Kian's shit. Frankly, Rand shouldn't have played along with it back when they were kids, either, he should have taken Kian to his home no matter how gross he was with his mom. But that was beside the point, the point was, this wasn't about sending Kian to a lonely and bug infested and gross trailer on the edge of town with his shitty parents. This was about getting Kian to go to a different room in the same house, with a warm bed and his friends to keep him company and take care of him.

Something warm and undescribeable fluttered in Rand's chest at the thought. At taking care of Kian, of being able to comfort and care for him, making him feel better even in some small ways. He… he'd never really had that as an option, before. Not since Rachel, anyways, and he'd never been good at taking care of her. He'd never even been able to take care of himself.

But he could take care of Kian now. It made him feel… good, nice, fucking whatever, words were hard, it made him feel proud. In control in a way he never had been, he had never been in control of much. Of his own life, of his money, of his things, of himself. And he still wasn't, really. But something about the thought of getting to be in control of not just himself, but of Kian… it felt good. It felt nice. It felt right.

"Ki, c'mon. You can barely stand, let's just get you to bed so you can get some sleep, yeah?" He was almost shocked by how gentle his own voice was. Rand wasn't gentle, he was all rough edges and yelling and anger. Or… well, he was gentle with Barc. And he'd been with Rachel when she'd needed it as a kid, he'd at least tried to be. Was he gentle? He didn't think so. But could he really trust his own perception of himself?

"I need- I gotta clean up, dude… and make breakfast, I can't- I can't sleep…" Kian mumbled his weak objection, as if either of them were going to change their minds because of something as small and frankly stupid as that.

"We can take care of- clickclick -it, Kian. You don't need to worry."

"But- but it's not… I'm s'pposed to do it…"

"You can barely stand up, man. You're gonna end up getting hurt or breaking something if you don't listen to us, seriously."

Kian shook his head weakly, and Rand could only sigh. They weren't getting anywhere, Kian was just going to keep disagreeing with them no matter what, even if he must have known they were right. And the longer they spent just standing there, arguing about things, the longer Kian was going to be not resting, slowly getting even sicker from the cool air of the kitchen and whatever the hell else.

Rand knew Rolan's stance on all of this shit was to work with Kian. To go at his pace, to not push him too hard. But for fuck's sake, if they didn't push him at all, they were never going to get anywhere. And so, he made a decision, tightening his hold on Kian and carefully picking him up into his arms, the same way he would do with Barc. Kian let out a small shocked gasp, but was luckily too weak to struggle past that.

He expected it to be a lot harder than it was. But even with his own relatively weak strength, and the burning pain in his shoulder, picking Kian up was concerningly easy. Christ, they needed to get more nutrients in him, Rand didn't want to even try to guess how much he weighed because he knew thinking about it was only going to make him worry way more.

Rolan gave him a skeptical look, but didn't voice any objections past that. And so, Rand slightly adjusted his hold on Kian to make sure he wouldn't slip out of his hold, feeling that same odd, proud sense of warmth in his chest as he felt Kian's still somewhat strained breath against his neck.

He could take care of him, he could protect him, he could make sure everything was alright. He had things under control, his life, Kian, everything was under control.

"Alright, rockstar. Let's get you to bed." Both Rolan and Barc followed behind him as he carried Kian from the kitchen and through the living room with a small bit of difficulty. Logically, would it have been smarter to ask Rolan to carry him instead? Yes. But that would have meant relying on Rolan instead of just doing shit himself, which he didn't want to do.

And he liked being able to just… carry Kian around like this. He shouldn't have been able to, and it was just more proof that they definitely needed to get Kian to weigh a bit more, but he could enjoy it for now. Or he could start working out to be able to do it for longer? It'd definitely be useful if he could just carry Kian places whenever he got difficult. Rolan was too much of a pussy to do it, so maybe Rand should make sure he'd be able to, instead.

He couldn't dwell on it for much longer at the moment, though, since they reached the door to Kian's room. Rolan moved in front to open the door for them- since Rand's hands were a bit preoccupied- the quiet clicks still coming from his mouth with each breath he took.

Kian's room… Rand didn't like being in it, honestly. And the biggest reason for that was the fact that Kian still hadn't unpacked his belongings, or at least most of them. The floor was still covered by filled cardboard boxes and packed suitcases, and it filled Rand with a sense of dread. The same sense of dread that so many things Kian did brought up within him, the fear of losing him again, of not being able to help when something was wrong.

He did his best to ignore that for now, though. He stepped around the boxes on the floor, carrying Kian over to his bed and setting him down with gentleness and care he rarely reserved for anything. Kian looked about half-asleep already, though his eyes were still ever-so-slightly open. And as soon as Rand stopped holding him, he tried to stubbornly push himself to a sitting position, even if his attempt was immediately thwarted by Rand somewhat gently pushing him back down.

"Asshole…" Kian muttered, but there was no fight in it anymore. He didn't seem to have the energy to argue back when Rolan pulled his blankets out from under him and draped them across his body, nor when Barc jumped up onto the bed and settled on top of Kian's legs. He just gave them a very weak, very tired glare.

"Try to get- click -some sleep, okay? And let us- or, I guess- clickclick -I have to go to work, so let Rand know if you need anything." Usually, Rand would have gotten upset over Rolan's indirect command at him to be at Kian's beck and call, but well, he wasn't going to disagree. And so he instead gave a nod in agreement, stretching slightly to help ease the stiffness and pain in his back.

"Yeah, just call if anything's up. We'll go take care of breakfast and stuff, yeah?" He turned his attention to Barc, giving the dog a few scratches behind his ear.

"And you, keep an eye on him, start making noise if he tries to get up. You got that, boy?" Barc gave him a lick to the nose and a small barking sound as confirmation. He ignored the small laugh he heard from Rolan, he knew his dog was smart enough to understand what Rand wanted from him, whether Rolan wanted to believe it, or not.

"You're really telling the dog to fuckin' babysit me, dude?" Kian mumbled, clearly annoyed but not sounding too upset. Rand shrugged his shoulders in response, turning his attention back to his friend.

"Not my fault the dog's more trustworthy than you."

"Fucker…"

"Bastard."

"Idiot."

"Nerd-"

"Okay- click -okay, that's enough. Kian, get some sleep. Ra- click -and come help me with breakfast."

He rolled his eyes, but didn't argue back, Rolan was, unfortunately, in the right, and so he pretended not to hear the final 'asshole' from Kian. Rand gave Barc a couple more scratches, and then, without really thinking, gave Kian some as well. His hair was soft- not that Rand had been expecting anything else- but it was definitely a bit messier than he would have thought, with small tangles hiding within the curls. It was much better than Rand's own hair could ever be, though.

"…sleep well. We'll take care of breakfast and shit, don't worry." Kian hummed, all the energy seeming to fully melt away from him as Rand played with his hair. His body relaxed even further, his eyes drifting closed as he fell asleep within a few seconds.

Rand pulled his hand away slowly, ignoring the needy part of himself that wanted to stay near his friend for as long as possible. As much as he might have wanted to stay with Kian, to make sure he actually managed to rest, they did need to worry about breakfast. And he could always stay with Kian later, after Rolan had gone to work.

It looked like Rolan was going through a similar dilemma, as his eyes lingered on Kian with an unmistakable craving that Rand didn't want to read into right now. The shit between the two of them wasn't any of his business, he wasn't even thinking about it.

Rolan followed after him as they left Kian alone with Barc, closing the door to the bedroom most of the way but leaving it slightly cracked open. They stood there for a few seconds, neither saying anything, before Rolan broke the ice.

"Well… that was easier than I expected."

"Yeah, didn't put up much of a fight. I guess it just goes to show how much he needed this."

"True, he definitely would have made it harder for us if he- click -if he was able to. Let's just hope he's actually able to rest."

Rand really hoped so. He knew there wasn't exactly a guarantee of it, though. Even if Kian wasn't trying to fight them on sleeping, he might have still been unable to get enough of it because of nightmares or the cold or some loud noises from outside or… a bunch of things. A bunch of things that Rand shouldn't start thinking too much about or else he'd risk going down a rabbit hole of horrible anxiety and stress.

"…okay, well, let's not just stand here talking or we're gonna end up waking him up on accident. Come on bug boy, let's go get something to eat." Rolan raised an eyebrow at the nickname, but nodded in agreement, following Rand through the living room and back into the kitchen.

They didn't talk too much throughout the rest of the morning, partly because they didn't want to get too loud and wake Kian up, but mostly because they didn't really need to. It was kind of nice, honestly, to be able to just exist in silence with Rolan without the need to talk about something at all times. Kian was great, but really, his constant need for conversation could get tiring sometimes.

Rolan wasn't like that, and never had been. Before Kian joined their group, the two of them could often hang out for even hours at a time with very few words exchanged between them. It had never been awkward, or strange, it was just… comfortable. Being in the same space with his best friend, not needing to worry about doing or saying anything, but just enjoying each other's company.

They didn't bother making any kind of complicated breakfast like Kian would have usually made for them- how he had the energy to cook them multiple meals daily, Rand couldn't understand, especially when he couldn't even eat them himself- and instead just got some cereal and cut up fruit. It was simple, but hey, Rand had simple tastes. No, it wasn't as good as the food Kian made or that his mom would have made before they moved in together, but he had no complaints.

Time passed by relatively fast, and before long it was time for Rolan to start leaving for work. He was clearly unsure about it, though, he kept stalling- probably without even realizing he was doing so- and fidgeting in place, shooting nervous glances towards Kian's bedroom. Even now, when he had all of his outdoor clothes on, and was about ready to leave, he still didn't seem at all committed to doing so.

"Do you- are you sure you can handle him on your own? I could call my work and take the day off-"

"Ro, man, we'll be fine. Besides, you really think that's a good idea so soon after your break? Don't imagine your boss would be too happy about that."

"Well… no, but-"

Rand sighed, grabbing Rolan by the arm and looking him directly in the eyes, trying to keep his expression firm but not too angry. Maybe he failed at that, though, judging by the fearful expression that appeared on Rolan's face as he flinched a bit further away, but was kept mostly in place by Rand's hold.

"Rolan, seriously, go to work. I'm not some fucking kid, I can handle Kian just fine. You don't need to try to fucking… act like you're the only adult here or some shit. I've got it covered." Rolan didn't look fully convinced, his expression was still equally nervous and Rand could feel his body trembling. It honestly pissed him off, was it really that fucking hard for Rolan to just trust him on this? Was that really how fucking little he thought of Rand?

"I… it's not about whether you can handle things, I'm just- I'm worried about what might happen if you have an episode and neither me nor Kian is there to help-"

"I'll be fine, seriously, you don't need to act like I'm fucking- fragile or need constant supervision or something, I can fucking handle myself-"

"Rand I wasn't-"

"Will you just fucking leave already? You're gonna end up being late if you stay here arguing."

He managed only barely to keep himself from raising his voice for Kian's sake, but Jesus, he was so fucking tired of Rolan always acting like he was somehow fucking better than him. Rand wasn't a kid, he wasn't stupid or broken or whatever the fuck else Rolan seemed to think, he was perfectly capable of taking care of both himself and Kian without Rolan there.

A flash of irritation appeared in Rolan's eyes, but instead of snapping back at Rand, he just pulled his arm away and took a deep, frustrated breath. Of course, because clearly he was just so much better than Rand at not getting upset over small shit, like he didn't-

"Fine, okay? Fine, you win, fucking- I'll leave. I'll see you in the evening." And that was all he said before turning around and exiting out the front door, leaving Rand alone in the entryway, still glaring into the empty air where Rolan had stood moments ago.

Fucking… asshole. That's what Rolan was, an asshole. Who looked down on Rand and saw him as lesser and never fucking trusted him to handle anything alone, just like everyone else. All because he was a fucking lawyer and Rand had still only worked for a couple months in his early twenties before being fired for missing work too many times.

Everyone always had to treat him like he was fragile. His parents had, everyone in Galloway had, Kian, Rolan, fucking everyone. And he fucking despised it, how no matter what he did people would apparently always only see him as a crazy, fucked up, unstable failure, unable to make anything of himself even after so many years.

Rolan was wrong. He was fine, he would be fine, he could take care of Kian. Hell, he did it every fucking day when Rolan was at work, it would honestly probably be easier with Kian sleeping and unable to be his usual, difficult self. Rand could handle this shit without Rolan there to watch over him.

He sighed, resisting the want to stomp so he wouldn't wake Kian up. Instead, he kept his movements light and barely audible at all as he walked across the hall and into his own bedroom, closing the door behind him. He could handle himself, he could handle Kian, it was fine. He didn't need anyone's fucking help with this shit, least of all Rolan's.

Chapter Text

Rand was doing fine. Fuck Rolan for acting like he couldn't handle shit on his own, he was doing great. He'd spent a while just laying in his bed, staring at the ceiling, sure, but aside from that, he'd spent the entire day so far actually doing shit.

He'd finally gone ahead and picked his laundry off of the floor, even putting it in the washing machine instead of just throwing it in a hamper and calling it good enough.

Once that was going, he'd gone outside and shoveled some snow off of their drive-way, hell, he'd even made small talk with a neighbor! Yeah, he hated it, but he'd still done it. If afterwards he had to spend a couple more hours laying down because his back was killing him and he felt overwhelmed by everything, that was nobody's business but his own.

When he'd felt better, he'd made some lunch for himself and Kian. Which had unfortunately meant having to wake Kian up so he could eat. Which then meant having to convince Kian to go the fuck back to sleep afterwards.

It really shouldn't have been hard, with how tired Kian clearly was, but somehow it felt like the most difficult thing he'd had to do all day. Not physically, keeping Kian from getting up was actually really fucking easy, but convincing him to rest was a whole different thing.

He'd managed to wear Kian down enough to make him go back to sleep eventually, after way too much back and forth, and threatening to tie him to the bed if he tried to get up again. Which obviously made Kian smirk in that stupid, infuriating way, before Rand hit him with a pillow to get him to not say anything.

But either way, it had worked eventually. Kian had gone back to sleep after eating some of his lunch- not enough of it, which Rand was willing to accept just this once since he was sick and probably feeling nauseous- and Rand had left to go wash the dishes.

Which he was doing currently. He'd even decided to wash them by hand instead of putting them in the dishwasher, just to have something to do. See, he was being productive! He was fine! Everything was fucking fine.

He was fine. Yes, his back was killing him, and every movement he made felt like he was getting stabbed repeatedly, but it was fine. Kian had eaten and was now back asleep, the washing machine was going, their lawn was shoveled clear of snow, he was fucking exceeding all expectations.

Rolan was nothing but a fucking asshole, who thought that just because he had a fancy fucking lawyer job that meant he was better than Rand suddenly. Rand could handle himself and Kian just fine, he didn't need anyone's help, or support, or anything else. He had shit under control, he-

"Rand?" A voice spoke out from somewhere behind him, and Rand spun around, still holding the kitchen knife he'd been washing in shaky hands. He couldn't see anyone, but he recognized that voice, he fucking recognized that voice.

"…Rat?" He sounded far more scared than he wanted to be, his voice shaking just as much as his body was. There was no answer, he couldn't see or hear anyone. It was just him, alone in the kitchen. But he'd heard Rat's voice. He knew what Rat fucking sounded like, knew what he'd sounded like against that fucking wall, dying a slow, painful death, while Rand was unable to do anything to help-

Fuck, no, no, everything was fine. Rat was- he was dead. He wasn't there, Rand had just… he'd heard shit that wasn't real. It happened. He knew that it happened. Everything was fine, he was fine.

He turned back around, trying to ignore the tremble in each movement he took. Fuck, he had to get a grip, he could handle himself. He wasn't about to just fucking prove Rolan right, he could wash the God damned dishes without having a breakdown. He was fine. He could fucking handle this.

His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest as he went back to washing the dishes. Fuck, why did he have to feel so panicky when he knew there was nothing there? Why did his hands keep shaking, why did his thoughts feel jumbled and messed up, why was his breathing so shallow, why could he feel someone staring at him?

Glancing over his shoulder nervously, there was nobody there still. Of course, who would have been there? Kian was asleep, and Barc would have let him know if he'd gotten up. Rolan was at work, and would be for several more hours. There was nobody with him, nobody was looking at him.

What about the windows? There was nobody he could see outside of them, but it would have been much easier for someone to just hide out of the way every time he turned around. Someone could be watching them through the windows. There was no guarantee that nobody was.

He walked over to the few windows in the kitchen, pulling the curtains over them. There. Now that was safe. But he still- he felt like someone was watching him. He felt unsafe. He felt like at any fucking moment someone might have attacked him.

No, no, everything was fine. He was just- he was being paranoid, right? The curtains were closed. Nobody could have been looking at him through them. And there was nobody in the house, other than him, Kian, and Barc. There was nobody else there.

But did they have to be? Nobody had to physically be there to watch him, did they? There could have been cameras. Hidden cameras, set by who? The fucking government? What if someone had found out about Rolan, and they were now watching them at all times, just waiting for the perfect chance to attack?

When would anyone have been able to even set hidden cameras inside their house, though? At least one of them was almost always at home, it would have been too risky for anyone to break in… except for yesterday. They'd been outside, not just all three of them, but Barc as well. That would have been plenty of time for someone to sneak in, set a bunch of hidden cameras places, and leave without ever being noticed.

But wouldn't Barc have been able to smell them? Surely he would have, no, if some stranger, some fucking government agent had been in their home, Barc would have noticed something was wrong. Or Rolan, or both. Nobody would have been able to just enter without Barc throwing a fit about it.

…unless it was someone Barc already knew and felt safe with. Or… or someone who smelled like someone Barc knew. If he was able to recognize that Rolan wasn't human because of his smell, that meant the bugs probably smelled different than people. Maybe they all shared a similar smell, maybe, if one of them had broken in, Barc would have mixed their smell for Rolan's.

But the bugs would have no reason to set up any kind of hidden cameras, would they?

Had Rand really just hallucinated Rat's voice earlier?

He must have, he- that hadn't been real. But he could fucking feel someone staring at him, and he'd heard Rat's voice, and Barc might now have noticed anyone was there. It wasn't like they'd seen all the bugs dying, what if some of them had survived?

Kian- Kian had said something about how some of them were smarter than others, hadn't he? What if… they knew the bugs had gone nuts when the queen died, but did all of them? What about the more intelligent ones? Officer Dudes, Becky…

Rat.

What if they'd made it out?

What if even one of them had made it out?

Could Rand really say for sure that they hadn't?

But why would they only show up now? Why wait several months, why let them settle down, instead of just killing them immediately? How would they have even found them? Fuck, wait, Rolan's bug shit. He'd given up control to the bug, what if that had let whatever was left of the hive know where they were?

Maybe one or two of them had survived, and they'd known the three of them would go to Chicago, so they'd followed after them. But they hadn't been able to actually find them, until Rolan let the bug control him. They'd followed some fucking signal it had sent to their home. They'd snuck in while the three of them were outside. Barc didn't notice, because they smelled like Rolan.

He couldn't see them, but did that mean anything? They might have been sneaky, it wasn't like they'd seen the bugs attempting to sneak around or whatever, they didn't know. And Rat had always been good at hiding.

No, fuck, he was freaking himself out over nothing. He'd hallucinated, there was nobody there, everything was fine. He was fine, Rolan was fine, Kian-

Kian. Kian wasn't fine, he was sick. Vulnerable. Was he even sick? What if- what if the bugs had fucking done something to him? He could have been poisoned or something- no, Kian was fine, he just had a bad cold, it was fine. There was nobody in their fucking home, nobody had broken in, nobody was watching him, spying on him, anything. They were okay.

But what if he was wrong? Could he take that risk? When Kian was sick, when Rolan was out, could he risk not just his own safety, but Kian's as well? He was supposed to protect him. He'd failed him when they were kids, he'd failed him back in Galloway, he'd promised it wouldn't happen again.

If something hurt Kian now, it would be his fault. He'd told Rolan that he could handle things, he'd promised himself to keep Kian safe, he'd reassured Kian that he'd be taken care of, that he'd be okay. Kian was the weakest of them. The most vulnerable, most trusting, most careless. The easiest target.

Rand had left him in Galloway, and he'd died. He couldn't let that happen again.

Slowly, fearfully, he finally gave up on the dishes, dropping them in the sink full of soapy water. His body moved almost on autopilot, out of the kitchen, and into the living room. The eyes followed him throughout, even if he still couldn't see them. He stepped into the hallway, Kian's door was cracked open. He'd left it open, right? Had he? Or had someone else gone in after him?

He opened the door, his eyes landing on Kian's still, sleeping form. Barc raised his head as Rand entered, but didn't move otherwise. He closed the door behind him, making sure it shut properly. There was no lock on it, they should get a lock for it. No, Kian might end up hurting himself and locking them out so they couldn't help. But he could already do that in the bathroom. Kian needed a lock. So he could be safe. So Rand could know he was safe.

The curtains in the room were already closed so no light could get in, so at least Rand didn't have to worry about that. He walked over to Kian's side quietly, keeping his steps as light as possible to avoid waking him.

Kian looked… he looked fine. His face was relaxed, his body was relaxed, he didn't look hurt, or distressed. He was in the same exact position that Rand had left him in, another thing that had changed after his death. Kian used to toss and turn in his sleep constantly, even sleep-talking at times, but he didn't, anymore. Whenever he slept, he was completely still, completely quiet.

He almost looked like a corpse. Perfectly still, unmoving, unfeeling. Under the thick duvet, Rand couldn't even see the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

…was he breathing? Could Rand be sure? He moved his hand less than an inch away from Kian's face, holding it there so he could feel the air leaving Kian's nose.

A second passed.

Another.

Third, fourth, fifth, tenth.

Nothing happened.

He wasn't breathing.

He wasn't breathing, he wasn't breathing, he was dead, he was dead, Rand was supposed to protect him and he was fucking dead, no, no, no-

And then he felt it, a small exhale of air out of him, barely even there, barely noticeable. But still something. Still proof that his worst fears hadn't come to reality.

He let out a breath he hadn't even realized he was holding, his body finally untensing as the terror and fear melted out of him. Everything was fine, Kian was alive, he was alive, he was breathing, he was safe, he was safe, he was-

…he wasn't safe, because there was- or could be- something dangerous in their house. Rand couldn't tell, since Barc was now looking at him, he didn't know if the staring he felt was from Barc or from someone- something- else. He didn't know. He needed- he had to check the rest of the house, to make sure there was nobody there.

His eyes drifted back to Kian's still sleeping form. Defenseless, asleep, he couldn't even scream for help if something happened. He had Barc… but that wasn't enough. Barc was pretty smart and strong for a dog, but he was still a dog. He couldn't do much other than try to bite and bark for Rand. And what if he was too far away to get there in time?

No, he couldn't leave Kian, he couldn't. He'd let him die in Galloway, he couldn't let it happen again. He had to stay here, with Kian, to protect him. He had to. But could he even protect him? He might just fail again, the only reason he'd survived back in Galloway was because of Rolan. And he'd had a fucking shotgun back then.

He hadn't even brought a knife with him. Fuck, he had nothing to defend himself, or Kian with. Nothing. He should have brought something, could he go get a weapon? If he was fast, could he get to the kitchen, or Rolan's bedroom in time, and back to Kian before anything happened?

…could he even be trusted with a weapon? What if he freaked out over something, what if he had another episode? Where he wouldn't believe his friends were really themselves? He wouldn't hurt Kian, would he? But what if he did? What if he hurt him, or Rolan, or Barc, he couldn't, he wouldn't, would he?

Wasn't that what Rolan had been afraid of? Had he been right? No, he was a fucking asshole, who didn't trust Rand, who thought he was better than him… but he wasn't wrong, was he? Rand knew that. He was nothing but a fucking failure, a freeloader, a mentally fucked liability.

He needed to protect Kian, but what the fuck was he going to do if he became the thing Kian needed protecting from?

A tear rolled down his cheek, and he quickly moved to brush it away. He needed to get a fucking grip, he needed to calm down. Breathe in, hold, out. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Barc let out a quiet whine, but Rand ignored him.

He looked back at Kian. He couldn't leave him alone, he couldn't risk that. Couldn't risk something coming in and hurting him. And even if nothing did, Kian was still sick. Something else might have happened to hurt him, they didn't know how serious the illness was. With how weak Kian seemed to be, it was entirely possible that even a single fucking cold could have taken him out.

Rand looked around the room for a bit, before finally standing up from where he'd been crouched on the floor, his legs shaking uncontrollably. Like a newborn deer, except instead of a cute, tiny animal, it was a fucked up, overweight man in his fucking thirties.

He struggled over to Kian's desk- that was just as barren and unused as the rest of the room, a constant reminder that Kian was still fucking planning on leaving him again- picking up the desk chair and carrying it over to Kian's bed. He set it down on the floor next to him, sitting down in the chair while his mind and body were both still stuck in fight-or-flight mode.

His eyes flicked from Kian to the bedroom door, back to Kian, back to the door, he couldn't choose just one to focus on. What if he was looking at Kian and someone entered the room, and the split second longer it would take for him to notice led to Kian's death? But what if he was looking at the door, and Kian stopped breathing, and he didn't notice until it was too late to save him?

Looking away from Kian for more than a second at a time felt like he was letting him die. Like if his eyes weren't on him constantly, his heart would stop beating, his lungs would stop taking in air, his body would begin breaking down to that string it had been before Rolan brought him back. Rand watching him was the only thing keeping him alive, he couldn't look away, or else he'd lose him for good this time.

It wasn't logical, he knew that. But that knowledge changed nothing. He couldn't look away from Kian for long, he shouldn't look away even for a second. Because during that second something could happen, and it'd be Rand's fault. It was always his fault.

He almost felt like he was back in time, back when they were kids. It had been particularly rainy for several weeks, and as a result, Kian had gotten sick. It had started off fine, some coughing and a runny nose, nothing to worry about. But he kept getting worse, and he wouldn't take time off to rest and heal, and Rand had been unable to do anything but watch as Kian's health deteriorated.

Until one day, at the end of history class, Kian had just… collapsed. He'd stood up, shaking so badly anyone could tell something was wrong, and then, without warning, he'd fainted. Rolan was just close enough to grab him before he could hit his head on a table, while Rand was frozen in place, unable to act as Dickman hurried to them from the front of the class and began to check up on Kian.

Dickman had called for a substitute for his next class, and carried Kian to his car. He for once didn't start on a lecture about the importance of not skipping school when Rolan and Rand demanded to come with him, getting in the backseat with Kian who was still struggling to stay conscious.

They'd convinced the teacher to bring Kian to Rand's place instead of the hospital or Kian's own home. It wasn't hard, Dickman knew how poor and unstable Kian's parents were. Everyone in town fucking knew, everyone saw them waste their small paychecks on drugs, alcohol, or some stupid fucking cult shit instead of their son. They wouldn't have helped him if they'd brought him to them, and they couldn't have afforded any kind of hospital bills.

Rand remembered, once they'd gotten home and his mom had helped get Kian into some of Rand's old pajamas and into the bed in their guest room- Rand's old bedroom, before he chose to move into the attic instead- how he'd sat by Kian's bed for hours. Unable to look away, terrified of what might happen to him. Just like he was right now, except at least then, his mom had been there. She'd been a nurse when she was younger, she'd known how to help Kian.

He wished his mom would have been with them now. To tell Rand what to do to help, to give Kian the comfort he needed but Rand didn't know how to give. He didn't want to rely on her. He didn't want to rely on anyone, he could do this himself, he needed to be able to do this himself. But it would have been so much easier to just… not. To go back to how he'd always been, and let someone else control things.

But he couldn't. Because there was nobody else there to take care of things, it was just him. He was the only one who could protect Kian, the only one who could make sure nothing bad happened to him. And Rand wouldn't, couldn't, fail him now.

He took a deep breath, he had to be calm, he had to be ready for anything. Thinking about the past, feeling sorry for himself, it wouldn't help anyone, it could only end up hurting Kian more. None of this was about Rand or how he felt, it was about Kian, his needs, his pain, what Rand could do to for fucking once be the one to help him and not the other way around.

Focusing his thoughts back on Kian now, he noticed that there was something different about him. It was subtle, just like fucking everything with Kian seemed to be, but it was still there.

He no longer looked as peaceful, as relaxed as before. He was clearly still asleep, but his brows were now slightly furrowed in what Rand could only describe as fear, the little Rand could see of his body was tense, and his lips were parted, shaky, strained breaths leaving his mouth.

Rand's first thought, and his first fear, was that it was the sickness. That Kian was struggling to breathe because there was something in his lungs, or his organs were fucking failing on him, or something. But as he watched a single, small tear slip past Kian's eyelids and onto the pillow underneath him, he realized a much more likely explanation.

A nightmare. He knew Kian struggled with them, how could he not, after everything? It was just… weird to actually see it. To see the obvious distress and fear on Kian's face, as a strained, quiet whimper tore out of his throat.

Rand looked back at the bedroom door nervously, he should be keeping an eye on it. He should, to make sure nothing could come in and hurt them. But… he needed to focus on Kian, he needed to offer him some kind of comfort, at least. But he needed to protect him. But Kian needed him. But-

Barc whined quietly, and Rand's eyes moved to him, to the concerned puppy-dog eyes Barc was giving him as he nudged at Kian gently. Barc… Barc could keep an eye on the door, right? He had good hearing, he'd alert Rand if anything was coming close. Rand could focus on Kian for now, it was fine. They had a literal guard dog with them, it'd be fine.

That just left the question of what the fuck was he actually supposed to do to help him. He was pretty sure he'd heard somewhere that waking up someone while they were having a nightmare was a bad idea, and even if it wasn't, it was difficult enough to get Kian to sleep already. It was better to let him sleep, and just… try to comfort him through the nightmare.

But how? Rand's first thought was by hugging him, giving Kian something- someone- to cling to, to feel comforted by. But that would mean getting into the bed with Kian, and laying down it'd take him far longer to get up and be ready to fight if anything happened.

Holding Kian's hand was an option, but that was- that was the kind of shit you'd do with a partner, not a friend. It was too intimate, too romantic, too gay, whatever, he didn't want to do that. Hugging was one thing, but hand holding… it just felt different. At that point, he might as well have just fucking kissed him instead.

Another tear slipped down Kian's cheek, fuck, no, he was getting distracted. No hugging, too risky. No holding hands, too gay. Not that there was anything wrong with that, just- Jesus, why did he feel the need to fucking defend himself from his own thoughts? Focus, what was left? It was pretty obvious once he actually thought of it.

Slowly, like he was approaching a scared stray animal, he raised his hand up towards Kian, gently setting it on his head. Another whimper came out of him, scared and confused and so fucking hurt, as Rand began to softly, carefully petting his hair.

He felt Kian tense up even more underneath him, shit, was this a bad idea? Was he just making Kian even more distressed? Before he could pull his hand away, though, Kian finally relaxed a little. Maybe that was a sign to keep going.

As the minutes passed, and Rand continued to pet him, more of the tension slowly melted out of Kian. The tears stopped falling, and his face returned to a much more even, much less distressed expression. As Kian relaxed, Rand could feel his own body doing the same, calming down at least a little as Kian seemed to feel better.

His lips twitched up into a small smile, a much more gentle one than he usually was fine with having. He didn't want people to think he was soft or whatever, but it was… it was fine. Nobody was there to see him. Nobody except for Barc, and, well, Barc was already one of the few beings Rand didn't mind being soft with.

Kian… Kian wasn't okay, sure, but he had Rand. And Rand could help him, shit, this was at least some tiny proof of it, right? That he could comfort Kian through a nightmare and make him feel better? It might have been a small thing, but… it was still something. It wasn't like he was useless.

But now he was kind of stuck in a situation of his own creation. Because he couldn't just stop petting Kian, what if he'd have another nightmare if Rand stopped? But he needed to be ready to act if something attacked them. But… if there was something there, if- if the bugs had found them, why wouldn't they have just attacked already?

They were almost entirely defenseless. Kian was asleep, and in no position to fight, or run, or anything. And Rand didn't even have a weapon. But there was- something had been there, right? He'd heard it, he'd felt it watching him, even now, if he focused, he was sure he could hear clicking from somewhere in the house.

But what possible reason would they have had to wait this long without doing anything? And… surely, if there was something or someone in the house that wasn't supposed to be there, Barc would have seemed on edge, right? Barc knew that Rolan wasn't home, so if he could smell the bug monsters… he'd be going crazy right now.

His eyes locked with Barc's, and the dog began to lazily wag its tail, before yawning and setting its head down on top of what Rand assumed was Kian's leg under the covers. Barc was a guard dog. Not a properly trained one, sure, but still. He was smart. And he was protective of the people he deemed as his. He wouldn't have been so calm if he thought something might pose a threat to Kian.

But… what if Rand was wrong? What if there was something dangerous, what if Barc just hadn't realized? He couldn't risk it- but he also couldn't fucking do anything. He couldn't leave Kian to go check the entire house just in case, he couldn't go grab a weapon, he couldn't do anything other than sit there because he couldn't leave Kian.

Fuck, but he didn't want Rolan to be right. He didn't want Rolan to fucking come home and see that Rand had gotten stuck in his own anxieties and hadn't been able to do anything. He wasn't going through that shame, he wasn't. But then what the hell was he supposed to fucking do?

…he'd- he'd check all the rooms in the house, just to make sure there was nothing dangerous there.. And he'd finish what he'd started doing earlier. The dishes, the laundry was probably done so he should put that in the dryer. And then… he could come back and check in on Kian. Stay with him until Rolan got back. It'd be fine. It had to be fine.

He stood up slowly, trying to ignore the pain and guilt at letting go of Kian as he took quiet, shaky steps towards the bedroom door. He paused at it for a moment, trying to listen for anything. Clicking, buzzing, footsteps, anything. But there was nothing. Nothing yet, at least.

The door creaked slightly as it opened, and he winced, his entire body tensed up and preparing for an attack. None came, though, the hallway was just as empty as it was supposed to be. He shut the door behind him, looking to his left and right multiple times, expecting something to jump out at him. He almost wished something would have, at least then he wouldn't have had to fear it anymore.

His footsteps were as quiet as possible as he walked to Rolan's bedroom first, stepping inside the depressingly very barren room. Sure, Rand's own room wasn't too decorated either, but at least his mom had brought some of his stuff from Galloway so he had something. His D&D stuff, a rug, random knick-knacks from his childhood, whatever. Rolan's room had nothing but the essentials, and it was frankly just sad.

At least that made it easier to check the room, though. Underneath the bed, nothing, checking the lock on the door to the patio, closed, in the closet, nothing but clothes. His eyes hesitated on where the shotgun was, hidden from view on the top shelf.

He wanted to take it. He would have felt way fucking safer having it. But if he didn't find anything, if Rolan noticed he'd taken it, even if he put it back… Rolan already thought he was too unstable to be left alone. He didn't want to fucking prove him right by being so paranoid that he needed to carry a gun around in his own home.

And… what if he accidentally shot at Rolan again? Or possibly worse, Kian? What if Kian got up out of bed without him noticing, and Rand mixed him up with a monster and shot him? He'd already made a very fucking similar mistake once, he'd only missed Rolan by sheer luck. He couldn't, he couldn't let that happen again. He couldn't fucking be the reason a person he loved died again.

He left the gun behind alongside Rolan's empty room. His own bedroom was empty as well, the only sounds were those of a clock ticking on his wall. The hall bath was empty, and so was the entryway, and the hall closet. So was the living room. He checked every single cabinet in the kitchen, nothing anywhere.

Last, he returned to Kian's bedroom. Nothing was there. Kian was still breathing. The on-suite bathroom was clear. Kian was breathing. Rand closed the door as quietly as he could as he left him alone again.

His body moved more on autopilot than anything else. Move the laundry from the washing machine to the dryer. Check that there isn't a buildup of lint, check again, almost turn the machine on, check a third time, finally turn it on. Finish washing the dishes. Grab a dish, wash, rinse, set to dry. He should have just put them in the dishwasher.

Check that every door to the outside is locked. Close all curtains, he doesn't want anyone looking in on them. Check the doors again. Unlock them, lock them again, check that he locked them properly.

Look in every room again. Rolan's, clear, the gun was where is was supposed to be, the door to the patio was locked. His own room, empty, he grabbed his sketchbook and pencilcase from his desk before continuing his rounds. Hall bath, empty, the dryer wasn't on fire, the entryway, empty, the door was locked, closet, empty, almost entirely so, there were very few extra blankets or towels. Not even a box of holiday decorations or anything, depressing shit.

Nothing and nobody in the living room. Nor in the kitchen. The oven was off, so were the burners. He counted the knives, then counted them again, none were missing. The oven was still turned off. He left the kitchen, he went back in, he counted the knives again. They were all there. It was fine.

Kian was still asleep in his bed, Barc was still laying on top of him, there was nobody else there. The bathroom was clear. Everything was fine. There was nobody in the house except for them.

He sat down on the chair next to Kian's bed, looking at his friend's sleeping, gentle face. It was fine, it was okay. Kian was alive. He'd be okay. Rand would protect him, Rand could protect him. He wouldn't leave Kian alone again.

Hours passed in blessed silence, as Kian continued to sleep, and Rand continued to watch over him. He only left him for a short moment, when Barc asked to be let out to use the bathroom- which was stressful as hell, but it was fine, nothing bad happened while Kian was left alone.

It was dark outside by the time he heard the sound of the front door clicking open, and someone entering the house. Rand paused his sketching to looked at Barc, who just gave a small grumble, and then went right back to sleep, it was Rolan. It was fine, it was just Rolan.

A moment passed, before the door to the bedroom opened slowly as Rolan hesitantly looked in. Rand didn't say anything so Kian wouldn't wake up, instead choosing to stand up with a stretch, wincing from the pain. God, he'd been sitting still for too long.

He set the book to Kian's bedside table, closing it so Rolan wouldn't see what he'd drawn. Not that it was anything bad, but just… Kian was nice to draw, okay? He'd drawn a lot of Kian in the past several hours. And drawing Kian made him feel like drawing Rolan as well, sue him, that wasn't weird. He just didn't trust Rolan to not take it that way.

Rolan stepped out of the way as Rand walked past him into the hallway, closing the door behind him. A few seconds passed between them in silence, before Rolan spoke up, his voice quiet and oddly nervous.

"Hey. Did… did everything go alright?" Rand shrugged his shoulders, no, him convincing himself that someone was inside their home and was going to attack them was definitely not something he'd consider alright. But, also, no way in hell was he telling Rolan about that. The other would just feel justified in not trusting Rand to handle things if he knew about it.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Kian's basically just been sleeping the whole day, did some basic chores, whatever." Rolan hummed in response, fidgeting with the ends of his sleeves, shifting his weight from one foot to the other nervously. Rand waited for him to say something, and after almost a minute, he did.

"Rand, look, I just- I'm sorry about earlier today, okay?" An apology was about the last thing he expected, honestly. Some of the confusion and surprise must have shown on his face, since Rolan quickly continued explaining himself.

"I- I didn't fucking mean to make you feel like I don't trust you, that's not- I do. I do trust you. I just- I let my own fucking anxieties get the better of me, because of the state Kian's in, and… Rand, I know you can handle yourself. But I'm still going to worry about you, because you're my best friend, and- I know you hate that shit. I know you hate being pitied and whatever, but I can't help it. I care about you. You and Kian both. So just… I'm sorry."

Rand didn't know how to respond, really. He'd never been good at this stuff, at apologies and making up and whatever. When they were younger, they'd never apologize after their arguments, they'd just pretend none of it had even happened. That was what Rand had been good at. At moving on, and acting like he wasn't still hurt and bitter for weeks after.

What was he even supposed to say? 'I forgive you'? 'It's fine'? Should he apologize back? Probably, he had kind of just… exploded at Rolan over nothing. And it wasn't like Rolan had even been wrong to be worried, Rand just hadn't wanted to admit that.

"…it's- it's fine, Ro, don't worry about it. And I- fuck, whatever, I'm sorry too, alright? For snapping at you and shit. I just… I don't fucking want you acting like I'm weak. Especially not when Kian's the one who needs help, not me."

"Yeah, I know. I'm- I really am sorry, Rand."

"But… I do get it, I guess. I don't fucking like it, but I know I'm not exactly the fuckin'… most stable person in the world or whatever. I mean, shit, I had to close all the curtains today 'cause I was worried about someone watching me. I just- I wish I wasn't like this, you know?"

Rolan nodded, and, well, yeah, he did know, didn't he? Not exactly, but out of everyone on Earth, Rolan was definitely pretty high on the list of 'people who wish they weren't the way that they are'. Except for him, it was being a bug person, rather than being unable to trust his own mind.

"I… I get it. But, just for the record, I do like you no matter how kind of insane you are. Not- I don't mean, like, in a gay way, just-"

"Yeah, yeah, understood. Don't worry, I like you too, bug boy. No matter how bug you are, or whatever."

Rolan had a small, hesitant smile on his lips, and Rand couldn't help but respond to it with one of his own. Maybe actually talking about shit instead of just ignoring it was a smart thing to do. Probably something he should have realized several years ago, but whatever.

"…I started drying some laundry earlier, and it's probably done by now, so… I should go take care of that, probably."

"Okay. Do you want me to make us some dinner? Or are we fine with leftovers for today?"

"Leftover's fine. Just need to make sure to get something for Kian as well, I got him to eat some food for lunch, but not enough."

"Alright, I'll take care of that, then, you can go handle the laundry. Just… I think I should check in on Kian first, the fucking bug's- it's been on my case about him all fucking day."

Rand snickered, mostly because the visual of a tiny bug inside Rolan's mind screaming at him was pretty funny. He patted Rolan on the back, before going to the bathroom to finally unload the laundry.

He didn't bother folding it neatly or anything, it was all his own laundry anyways. Which… he had considered doing laundry for all three of them, but he really hadn't wanted to deal with touching his friends' underwear or whatever. Plus, with how high-maintanence Kian was, he might have ended up getting upset about Rand washing his clothes wrong or something. So his own laundry it was.

Once the clean clothes were set in his closet, he finally went to the kitchen to get something to eat. He grabbed some of the leftovers from the pasta meal they'd had the previous day, tossing it in the microwave to heat up while he sat down at the kitchen table.

Christ, he hadn't even realized how fucking hungry he was until he actually let himself focus on it. Or how tired. He hadn't eaten since lunch, and… well, he'd been really fucking on edge the entire day. Now that he finally had the chance to relax, and not have to worry about Kian for a moment, he felt utterly and completely spent.

He sighed, leaning his head against his arms on the table. He wasn't going to sleep, just… he just needed to close his eyes for a moment. While his food heated up. And then he'd eat, and… go back to Kian, probably. Sit by him to make sure he was okay.

Was Kian awake right now? He couldn't hear anything, no speaking or whatever, but he would have thought that Rolan had had enough time to get some food for them already. Or maybe he'd gotten distracted, or he'd decided to go change into more comfortable clothes first, whatever.

The microwave beeped, his food was ready. He should have gotten up and gone to get it. And he would, he was going to, just… soon. In a minute. He'd just take a moment to let himself relax, and then he'd go get it. It was fine. He just… needed to rest his eyes for a short moment.

Chapter Text

When he was a little kid, maybe four or five years old, Rand could vaguely remember how whenever they were driving home later in the evening, he would pretend to fall asleep in the back towards the end of the ride in hopes of his dad carrying him from the car to his bed once they got home.

He didn't know where he originally even got the idea. It was probably something he saw in a movie or something, just one of those silly things kids got fixated on for no real reason. But for a while, it was always the same thing. They'd be driving home, and maybe five minutes before they got there, Rand would pretend to doze off as his masterplan.

It never really worked, though. His mom would simply gently shake him 'awake', and he'd be forced to walk the short distance from their driveway to their house. With the hindsight of not being a kid, Rand didn't blame his parents for it, obviously. They didn't even know what he'd wanted, and Rachel had been a literal baby. She needed to be carried, and if they had anything else to carry as well, picking up Rand was just impractical.

His plan never worked, except for one, single night. When he'd done the same thing he always did, and instead of his parents waking him up, his dad had unbuckled him, and gently picked him up from the backseat. He remembered it with such clarity, trying to keep himself from smiling as his dad carried him up the stairs to his bedroom, removed his shoes and his pants so he'd be more comfortable, and then tucked him into bed.

It was such a small moment to remember. He didn't even remember where they were coming home from, or anything that would have made the day different than every other one, he just remembered the warmth and safety of being in his dad's arms.

He'd clung onto that memory when their relationship had gotten worse as Rand grew up. That memory of softness, that small proof that his dad was capable of being gentle with him. That his dad loved him. Especially after the loss of Rachel, when his dad would so rarely even look at him anymore, that was what Rand had clung to. That single, tiny memory.

In his half-asleep, hazy state, that memory was the only thing he could think of as he felt himself being picked up and carried somewhere. For a moment, he thought that maybe he really was still a little kid. Maybe he'd fallen asleep in their car, or on the couch, or anywhere else. Maybe his dad was carrying him to bed, maybe everything he remembered from the last decades was just a horrible, horrible dream.

The arms around him didn't feel like his dad's, though. They were longer, and lankier, and clearly struggled with carrying him more than his dad would have when Rand was a child. He let out a confused mumble, struggling to make his mind catch up with the world around him. Where was he? Why was someone carrying him?

All he got in response was some kind of strange vibrating coming from the person still carrying him. It was similar to a cat's purring, just louder, gentle and soothing. He couldn't help but lean against the feeling of it, as he listened to the quiet clicking accompanying the sound-

He snapped awake, letting out a startled gasp as he pushed himself away from the fucking thing that was holding him, clicking, the bugs, the hive, fuck- the clicking only grew more frantic as Rand fell from its arms. He expected the fall to be harsh, using the split second he was in the air to mentally prepare himself to hit either the floor or, worse, the ground outside, but instead he fell onto something soft.

At first, he thought that he'd fallen onto a bed. But looking around him, and down, it seemed more like some kind of weird fucking nest. It was dark, but he could see pillows and blankets and mattresses strewn about on the floor with some kind of order to them. It looked like basically everything soft in the entire house had been gathered, Rand could even see the couch cushions, some towels, and even some clothes mixed in with everything.

What the fuck was going on?

Before he could get an answer, he felt something gently grabbing hold of him. He screeched, trying to pull himself away, which made the clicking once again get louder alongside the buzzing. It took him a moment, mostly because of the dark and because he had just woken up, before he recognized the figure in front of him.

"Rolan? What the fuck are you doing?" He raised his voice, but Rolan didn't give him a proper response. Instead, he just clicked again, sounding very upset despite the lack of words. Rand didn't feel quite as panicked anymore, with the realization that it was just Rolan instead of the fucking hive or whatever, but he was still really fucking confused.

Rolan was bugging out, that was clear enough, but one, why, two, why the fuck did that mean carrying Rand around and dropping him in- what, a badly assembled pillow fort? He tried to stand up, but Rolan let out another string of upset clicks at that, and pushed him back down.

"Oh, fuck off, bug boy, just tell me what the fuck is going on-" His words were cut off as the bug put one of his hands against Rand's mouth to shut him up. He tried to pull away from it first, but when that didn't work, he had no choice but to settle for the oldest solution in the book: licking Rolan's hand.

The bug- Rolan, bug, whatever, he didn't care to make a distinction right now- pulled his hand away with a very upset sound, looking at the hand and then back at Rand like he'd tried to kill him or something. Rand just flipped him off, don't get in the kitchen if you can't handle fire or however the saying went.

"That's what you fucking get. Now, fucking tell me what you think you're doing already-" This time, it wasn't the bug that cut him off. Instead, it was a confused, tired muttering coming from somewhere to Rand's right.

As his eyes followed the sound, he found himself looking at a mess of blonde curls just barely peeking out from underneath some of the many pillows and whatever else around him. On top of the pile was Barc, looking at Rand without a care in the world, gently wagging his tail.

The mound shifted slightly, and Kian's confused and barely awake face came into view. Well, shit, now Rand knew why the bug had been trying to keep him quiet. Kian's eyes met his in the dark, clearly struggling to make any sense of his surroundings.

"Rand..? Where… what's happening?" His voice was heavy and slow, his words slightly slurring together from exhaustion. Rand didn't really know how to respond, mostly because he had no fucking clue what the answer to Kian's question was. Where were they? Looking around, he recognized it to be Rolan's bedroom, just… very different. What was happening? Some fucking bug thing, that was all he knew.

Kian began to sit up slowly, at which point the bug in question finally acted again, starting up the soft clicking and buzzing again as it- he?- rushed over to Kian's side and gently pushed him back down. Kian was clearly still too tired to fight against it, collapsing into a laying position with a heavy sigh as the bug began to pet his hair while still buzzing up a storm.

"Mhm… Ro..?" He sounded on the verge of falling back asleep, even more-so than just a few seconds ago. Was it because of the buzzing? It had felt relaxing, sure, but not that relaxing. Did it just affect Kian more strongly than him? Why? Because he used to also be a bug? Maybe that was it. Or maybe it was just because Kian was more tired than him.

Rand looked between his friends for a moment, what was he supposed to do? Rolan was obviously not… himself. But he didn't seem like he wanted to hurt them or anything, so should he just go along with whatever the hell this was? Or should he take this opportunity of Rolan being too busy with Kian to pay attention to him, and get out of there?

Why the fuck was he even there? He'd fallen asleep at the kitchen table, and Rolan had found him there, fucking picked him up, and carried him to his room where he'd made… a nest? Like a fucking bird or something? How long had Rand been asleep for? Had Rolan even done what he was supposed to, and gotten himself and Kian something to eat? Fuck, he had too many questions, his head was starting to hurt.

He looked back over to Barc, the dog seemed fine with the whole situation, at least, so… there probably wasn't any kind of danger to it. Rolan had just bugged out and turned his bedroom into a pile of blankets and pillows for some fucking reason. And then he'd brought Kian and Rand in there. And possibly Barc. It was also possible that Barc had just followed after Kian, but either way, they were now all here.

Rand just didn't know why. And since Kian obviously also didn't know why- and since Rand wasn't about to wake him up again- he didn't really have any way to figure it out outside of just… trying to reason his way to finding the answer. Rolan didn't seem capable of speaking, so he couldn't tell him. And Barc was a dog. He had nothing but his own brain to rely on.

It was some kind of bug thing, clearly. Rolan was, what, nesting? Using everything soft he could find in the house? Honestly, if that was the case, Rand didn't really have any room to complain, considering that the nest in Galloway was made of human flesh. He much preferred a weird pillow fort over that.

Now, why? Because it was cold? It had been cold for a bit, and Rolan hadn't done anything like this before, at least not to Rand's knowledge. So maybe it was because of Kian being sick? If the bug saw them as its hive, then… it made sense for it to get worried about Kian being sick and needing to make him something warm and safe to rest in. Or, well, it made as much sense as anything could with an alien bug monster.

But why was Rand there as well? He wasn't sick. Maybe he was getting sick and the bug could somehow tell? No, he felt fine. Hungry, and a bit tired, but not sick. Maybe the bug had chosen to interpret his mental issues as him being sick? No, then it would have done this shit sooner. Rand's issues weren't exactly a new thing.

Maybe it wasn't that deep, actually, the bug might have just wanted its hive all in the same place. Or maybe it thought that Rand could help it somehow? In taking care of Kian, or keeping them safe, maybe? Safety in numbers and all that, it didn't sound unreasonable.

All of this would have been much easier if Rolan was actually capable of simply telling him what was up. But no, the bug could only buzz and click, so Rand was in the dark. He could draw conclusions and assume shit, but he wouldn't know for sure.

A sound that almost resembled a whine came from Rolan at that moment, and when Rand looked at him again, he saw those pitch black, large eyes staring at him. The bug looked from Rand to Kian and back to Rand with some kind of intent, buzzing and gesturing to the pile of pillows and blankets right next to Kian.

"What? What do you want from me?" The bug just whined again, and continued to gesture, staring at Rand. After a moment, it lowered itself closer to the ground, maintaining eye contact with him still. It almost reminded him of how Barc would look when begging for something, all large, sad eyes and making himself look smaller-

…was the bug fucking begging for him? Trying to cater to Rand by, what, submitting to him or some shit? He… didn't know what to make of that. It was so unlike anything Rolan would do, but at the same time, it… he didn't dislike it. He kind of liked the thought of it, honestly. Of Rolan- or the bug- seeing him as something better or superior to him, or… something like that.

It made him feel warm, satisfied. In the same way that caring for Kian earlier that same day had. He shook his head, pushing the thought and the feelings aside, he wasn't thinking about any of that shit right now. Or ever. Preferably ever.

He had to focus on what mattered, namely, what did the bug actually want from him? It continued to look from him to Kian, did it just… what, want him to come lay down next to Kian or something? To warm him up or keep him safe or whatever? It was the only thing he could think of, it just also sounded way too simple. Too easy, too… logical. Maybe he was just too used to expecting the worst out of every situation, though.

He kept a close eye on Rolan as he scooted closer, noticing the way he perked up a little, the buzzing increasing in volume once again. The closer he got, the happier the bug seemed to be, until he was right next to Kian, kneeling down on the opposite side of him from the bug.

Rolan's hands reached over to start pushing him down, but Rand swatted them away, glaring at his not-quite-friend. The bug immediately shrunk back, Jesus, it was weird to see 'Rolan' acting like this. All… subdued and non-argumentative. The only times Rand had seen him be anywhere close to this were with adults when they were young kids, before Rolan had gotten the confidence to stand up for himself to his parents and teachers.

"Chill, you're actin' like I'm gonna fucking hit you or something. Just- don't try to push me around, okay? And let me take my God damn pants off first, I'm not sleeping in jeans." He knew the bug probably couldn't understand what he was saying, but it still felt better to explain himself. And who knew, maybe there was some part of Rolan in there that would get it.

The bug looked at him curiously as he unbuckled his belt and shuffled out of his jeans, obviously keeping his underwear on. He pulled one of the blankets over his legs to cover himself up more, maintaining eye contact with Rolan as they both sat there.

Rolan looked from him, to Kian, and then back to him, whining again. Rand sighed, laying down on the floor- well, not directly on the floor, it was quite soft and comfortable, honestly- next to Kian. He hesitated for a moment, before scooting even closer to his friend, and wrapping his arms around him. Christ, he was fucking freezing.

Rand held Kian close to himself as Rolan began to fuss over the blankets and pillows around them, placing them in different places over and under them, all while buzzing the whole time. It was weird as hell, but fucking whatever, Rand was fine with letting Rolan bug out a little and act like a damn mother hen over them if it meant so much to him.

And he did have to admit that it wasn't… bad. Weird, yeah, but by the time Rolan seemed satisfied with his work- when they were almost entirely covered in multiple layers and wrapped up so tightly next to each other that it made even small movements difficult, like he'd put them in a fucking blanket cocoon- he was both very comfortable and very tired.

Barc finished up Rolan's work by moving from where he'd been laying near their feet to instead lounge directly on their torsos, adding even more to the comfortable weight suppressing Rand. He felt like it should have been claustrophobic, honestly, but… it really wasn't.

His eyes found Rolan's form in the darkness, now sitting a bit further away from them, his eyes wide and still just as black. Rand looked at him, and then at Kian, mimicking the way the bug had been with him earlier.

"You gonna come join us?" He kept his voice low, his fingers cradling through Kian's hair to help keep him relaxed. Rolan's eyes followed his, darting back and forth between them nervously. Slowly, he got closer to them, keeping his eyes on Rand's face the whole time like he was looking for something.

Whatever it was, it clearly didn't come, since the bug reached them with no issue and equally slowly and hesitantly laid down on Kian's other side, putting one of his stupidly long arms over them in a hug. His arm wasn't quite long enough to wrap around Rand entirely, but he seemed satisfied enough with it, since he closed his eyes with a quiet string of clicks, buzzing softly against them.

Rand let his eyes fall closed, letting out a heavy sigh as he wrapped his arms even tighter around Kian's too cold, too skinny body. He might as well just try to sleep and worry about everything else the next morning.

Did he understand what was going on? No, not really. Was he hungry after not eating anything for dinner? Sure. Was he going to have a lot of questions for Rolan in the morning? Yeah. But really, right now, it didn't really matter. Rolan was happy with his weird bug shit, and Kian was sleeping, and Barc was unbothered, so Rand wasn't going to complain. He was just going to try to get some sleep, knowing his friends were safe and happy next to him.

"What the fuck?" Rolan's slightly raised and very confused voice woke Rand up from his sleep. He cracked his eyes open, taking a moment to remember where he was and what was happening, before it came back to him. Oh, yeah, Rolan's fucking nest thing.

His eyes met Rolan's, who was now sitting up, looking at Rand and Kian in clear confusion, as well as around his entire room. He looked completely lost, and Rand would have felt sorry for him, if it wasn't kind of funny to witness.

"Mornin', can you keep it down? You're gonna wake Kian up."

"Wha- wake Kian- Rand, what the hell are you doing in my room? And why the fuck is- what happened?"

"Don't fuckin' look at me, man, you're the one who did this. You bugged out and dragged me and Kian to… whatever you'd turned your bedroom into, and wouldn't stop looking at me like a kicked puppy or somethin' until I let you wrap me and Ki in blankets."

Rolan's expression switched from confused to concerned to bewildered, as he looked from Rand back to Kian again and then around the rest of his room. Rand could see his face lighting up in a bright red shade

Barc stood up from where he'd been laying at that moment as well, stretching with a yawn before trotting over to Rand and giving his face a couple licks. It smelled fucking gross, but Rand's hands were still stuck around Kian, so all he could do about it was glare at the dog.

"I… I did- what? Why? Why the fuck would I do that, Rand?" Rolan sounded like he was in disbelief, and Rand could do nothing but attempt to shrug his shoulders. He had no clue, some kind of bug thing. He'd hoped Rolan would be able to tell him, honestly.

"I don't know. You really don't remember it? Turning your room into a pillow fort? Somehow carrying me here from the kitchen table after I fell asleep by accident? You don't remember any of that?"

"No! I don't- last I remember was going to check up on Kian after we talked, and then… then…"

"…then?"

"…nothing. It was like I… I blacked out or something."

Rolan seemed really distressed about the fact, far more distressed than Rand thought he should have been, honestly. Yeah, of course it'd be upsetting to black out and then wake up hours later with no recollection of what he'd done, but at least he hadn't hurt anyone. He'd just raided their home for blankets to wrap them in.

But then again, Rand didn't really understand what Rolan was going through, did he? If the same thing happened to him, if he lost control of his body for hours and couldn't even remember it afterwards… he'd probably be freaking out way more, honestly. Even if he hadn't done anything bad during that time.

"Well, at least you didn't-" He barely managed to even start talking before getting interrupted by a confused and very tired sound from Kian, followed by him shuffling slightly in Rand's arms, struggling to move with both Rand and the many blankets around him. Shit, they should have been more careful about waking him, Rand could only hope that Kian was still half-asleep enough to not get difficult with them.

Kian's cyan eyes came into view as he lifted his face up to look at Rand, his eyes still half-closed and his expression a mix of exhausted and confused.

"R'nd..? What's… why're you-" His mumbling got cut off by a small coughing fit that rattled his body, and Rand quickly tightened his hold on him to help steady him at least a little. He'd all but forgotten that Rolan was also still there until he heard the all-too-familiar clicking of the hive start up again, and Rolan was at their side, petting Kian's hair while rumbling.

As Kian managed to stop coughing, Rand saw Rolan freeze in place, the blush on his cheeks that had been slowly receding appearing back even darker than before. He cleared his throat to silence the clicks, pulling his hand back like it had been burned, staring at Kian in a mix of concern and shock.

Was Kian coughing really enough to make Rolan lose control over his bug side? Rand couldn't help but roll his eyes, why did he have to be friends with two gay idiots? He didn't want to fucking get stuck as a third wheel watching them act like losers around each other.

"…don't worry about it, just Rolan's bug shit. Go back to sleep, we'll try to be more quiet."

"'s he okay..?"

"Yeah, yeah, he's fine. Don't worry about it."

Kian mumbled something that Rand couldn't quite understand, sighing as he relaxed again, his face against Rand's shoulder. Huh. That was easier than he'd expected it to be. He wasn't complaining, though, definitely not. It just made him worry about how badly Kian was doing even more than he already had been.

He waited a couple minutes in silence, until he was fairly certain that Kian had fallen back asleep, and then turned to look at Rolan again. There was an intense, desperate yearning in his eyes, one that he quickly tried to hide by turning to look away from them, quiet clicks sounding from his throat and the blush on his cheeks once again darkening.

Like Rand had thought earlier; Christ, he was such a fucking loser. He would have made fun of him for it if he wasn't worried about it waking Kian up.

"How long do you have until you need to go to work?" He whispered. Rolan shrugged his shoulders, looking around until his eyes landed on the alarm clock knocked over on his nightstand. He shuffled over to take a look at it, before turning back to Rand.

"A couple hours."

"Cool. You're takin' care of breakfast today."

"Wait, you don't get to just fucking decide that-"

"Tough shit, if I get up it's gonna wake Kian again. This shit's your own fault for wrapping us in a God damn cocoon."

He chose not to acknowledge the fact that Rolan had been able to wrap them in said cocoon without waking up Kian just by buzzing the last night. Yeah, they could have used it to also do the reverse, probably, but fuck that. Rand could make dinner or something if he felt like making things fair anyways, it wasn't a big deal.

"I didn't do that, that was the fucking bug-"

"You're a fucking bug-"

"Real fucking mature, Rand-"

A shift from Kian and a sleepy mutter was all it took for both of them to shut up, staying deathly still, staring at their sleeping friend like he was a ticking time bomb. A full minute must have passed before Rolan finally spoke up again, his tone much quieter.

"…fine, I'll go make breakfast. But don't be surprised if I happen to accidentally burn your eggs." Rand considered biting back with something, but decided against it, opting for an eye-roll and a quiet snicker instead. Rolan stood up fully, stretching with a few audible pops on his joints- Jesus, that wasn't a nice sound- before struggling over the many, many pillows to get to his bedroom door.

Barc followed after Rolan for once, probably to get something to drink and eat and demand Rolan let him outside to do his business, so for a while, Rand was fully left alone with Kian for the first time in a while. He let his fingers run through Kian's hair gently, looking over what little he could see of his resting face from where it was hidden against him.

He felt… conflicted. Weird. He wanted to be near Kian, wanted to take care of him and keep him safe and all that crap, but… fuck, he couldn't stop thinking about how Rolan had looked at them. How anyone else would have looked at them if they saw how they acted.

It was pretty fucking gay, wasn't it? For him to be cuddling with Kian like this, even if… even if he wasn't gay. Even if there wasn't anything between them, and there never would be, because Rand wasn't like that. He wasn't gay. But why the fuck did he feel so comfortable being like this around Kian? Especially knowing that Kian… could have liked him that way?

…he probably didn't. Why would he? Rand wasn't exactly a catch by any means, especially compared to someone like Rolan. He felt almost sick thinking about that, the thought of Kian liking Rolan but not him… it wasn't jealousy. He didn't want Kian to like him romantically, he didn't fucking care. He just… didn't like the thought of him liking Rolan over him? It was fucking stupid. He was being stupid and overthinking shit.

His eyes focused on Kian again. He looked peaceful when he slept, resting against Rand like this. He was pretty. He was… really pretty.

Rand shook his head, carefully and slowly unwrapping himself from around Kian. It was a struggle, especially with how tightly Rolan had wrapped the blankets around the two of them the previous night, but after a minute or two, he'd managed to free himself without waking up Kian.

A part of him was calling him an idiot. Was telling him to lay back down, to stay as close to his friend as he could. To protect him. To take care of him. To be stupid and gross and act like a fucking queer. He ignored the voice. He ignored how much it hurt to see Kian's arms still grabbing the air where he'd been mere moments ago. He ignored it, and he stood up, and followed after Rolan and Barc, fuck this, he could make breakfast for himself.

Kian should be fine spending a few minutes alone.

Chapter Text

It had been a few days by now of Kian's sickness, and things were slowly starting to seem better. Kian definitely wasn't healthy yet, but he wasn't sleeping all day anymore, and could talk without breaking down in a coughing fit every ten seconds. So, things were getting better. At least a little.

Rand was still insisting Kian rest as much as possible, though. No way in hell was he letting Kian overwork himself and then end up even worse than before because of it, especially not when there was no real reason for Kian to be doing anything anyways. Even if Kian tried to argue with him about it, Rand- and Rolan, when he got home in the evenings- wasn't giving in until he was actually healthy again.

Especially since the best argument Kian could ever come up with was either being bored, or looking away while refusing to actually say anything, probably because he knew they wouldn't buy his shitty excuses anyways.

Of course, that left Rand having to do most of the housework. Which… he didn't really hate, honestly. He'd never been good at keeping up with cleaning or cooking or anything like that, but knowing he was doing it for his friends, not himself… it helped. It made the process feel a lot easier.

Currently, there wasn't really anything to do, though. They'd had lunch, and it'd be a few more hours before they needed to worry about dinner. There wasn't really anything that needed cleaning, they didn't own a lot of stuff in the first place. He'd been flicking through the channels on the TV for a better part of an hour, knowing he wasn't going to find anything interesting to watch anyways, when he finally grew bored enough of it to give up.

He turned the TV off, and looked out into the hallway, towards Kian's bedroom. He didn't know if Kian was awake or not, but if he was, talking with him might at least be a little more interesting than the shitty cop drama he hadn't been watching for the past five minutes.

With a stretch, he stood up, trying to ignore the forever present stinging in his back. Fucking Dudes, screw that guy. For multiple reasons, actually. He didn't give too much time for thinking of him, though, and instead walked over to Kian's room, only remembering that maybe he should have knocked after already opening the door.

He felt a freezing sense of dread hit him as his eyes landed on Kian's empty bed. Kian wasn't there, neither was Barc, they weren't anywhere to be seen. Had he heard the bedroom door opening? No, definitely not, so where the hell was he, where-

"Kian?"

"In here, dude, everything's fine!"

His body felt like it could have collapsed from relief as he heard Kian call out from the on-suite bathroom. Christ, of course, how did he not think of the bathroom? He let out a heavy breath of relief, stepping over to the bathroom door and trying the handle.

It wasn't locked. He cracked the door open, looking in with a small bit of hesitance. Yeah, if Kian was naked or using the toilet or something, he probably would have locked the door, but he was still cautious.

He didn't need to be, though. Kian was in a tank top and boxers, standing in front of his sink, in the process of applying… something to his hair. Some kind of white cream like thing, that Rand couldn't even begin to guess the purpose of. He turned to look at Rand as he entered, giving him a small wave, before turning back to look at himself in the mirror.

"Hey, man." His voice was hoarse- just like it had been for several days now- and Rand could see small tremors shaking his body. Barc was laying by hit feet, looking up at what Kian was doing curiously, wagging his tail softly. Rand stepped further into the room, shutting the door behind him.

"What are you doing?" He tried not to sound too upset over the scare earlier, it wasn't like Kian had meant to terrify him by disappearing like that. But it was hard to not feel annoyed, especially when Kian was once again doing some stupid beauty shit instead of staying in bed like he was supposed to.

"Applying a hair mask." Kian continued to face the mirror, barely even acknowledging Rand's presence. With the tank top he was wearing, Rand could see his arms uncomfortably clearly, the rose vine tattoos not doing anything to hide how horribly thin they were. How weak he was. How badly he should not have been walking around doing shit.

"Okay, why? You should be resting, Ki, you're still sick. This shit can wait." Kian let out a small sigh, shaking his head dismissively. He was acting like Rand was missing something obvious, talking so fucking matter-of-factly as if he was obviously the one in the right here. Fucking asshole, no, Rand didn't get Kian's hair stuff, but he didn't have to be so condescending about it.

"Man, it really can't. I haven't washed my hair since Saturday, it's drivin' me fucking insane."

"It's not like you're going anywhere-"

"It's not about that, dude! Or, yeah, I also want it to look good, but it's- fuck, I can't handle how it feels, okay? My hair's all greasy and my scalp is itchy as hell, I couldn't rest if I tried 'cause it feels so awful."

Rand wanted to argue back, wanted to insist that it couldn't be that bad, but something in Kian's expression stopped him. He looked… almost desperate. Not like he was making up excuses, saying whatever he could to get his way. His eyes were pleading, genuine in a way that they so fucking rarely were.

Obviously he knew that Kian had his issues with feeling shit. The way he'd physically cringe away from certain kinds of fabrics, or how he used to gag even as a kid when eating something with the wrong texture, or scratch at his skin because the feeling of his body hair bothered him too much. Kian was sensitive to a lot of shit, even if Rand knew he hated that fact about himself. It made sense that he'd be bothered by the feeling of his hair after not washing it for a few days.

But, still, could it be that bad? Bad enough to stop him from sleeping? Presumably so, since he didn't look like he was lying, but… still. Especially after only a few days, Rand had gone without washing his hair for weeks when his depression had been at its worst. No, it hadn't been good, but it hadn't been that bad.

"I think you're being pretty over dramatic about this shit. It's only been, what, five days?" Some kind of emotion passed on Kian's face, gone quickly enough that Rand couldn't identify it, but not so fast to go unnoticed. He took a deep, sharp breath, like he was trying to calm himself down, before responding.

"Dude, I know I'm a fuckin' drama queen, but that's- that's not what this is about, okay? I need to do this shit, or I'm gonna go insane. Just- please just drop it? I'm not doing my whole routine or whatever, I just need to wash my hair, dry it, and then I'll go back to dying of boredom in my bed. It won't take that long-" He was cut off by a weak coughing fit that sent him collapsing against the sink, gripping onto it for dear life. All the more proof that he shouldn't fucking be doing this, especially when he'd just started getting at least a little better.

'Not that long' by Kian's standards probably still meant at least an hour. Which was way too long for him to be standing around in a cold bathroom while wet and only making himself even worse instead of just fucking resting.

But the issue was, Rand couldn't just… tell him not to wash his hair, could he? Or, well, he could, but if it was genuinely bothering Kian that much, it'd be a dick move to try and stop him. And it wasn't like there was a guarantee that Kian would obey him even if he tried to insist on it. If he didn't, they'd just get in a stupid argument that would also mean Kian staying up. If he did, Kian would get back to bed, but would be uncomfortable and miserable the whole time.

He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Kian needed rest, he was still sick, he shouldn't be standing around worrying about his hair. But Kian wouldn't be able to rest without worrying about his hair. He shouldn't be wasting his energy on something like this, he needed to focus on getting better, but Rand couldn't just tell him to suffer from discomfort until he was healthy again-

"I'll wash it for you." He didn't even get a moment to think about the words before they came out of his mouth. Kian looked up from where he'd been bent over the sink, struggling to catch his breath, his expression confused.

"Wha- what, man?"

"Your hair. I can wash it, if it's that important to you."

It was a pretty simple solution. They could move to the primary bathroom so Kian could sit in the bath instead of standing the whole time, which would already put less of a strain on his body. Plus, Rand would get to actually do something useful with his time. And Kian would get his hair cleaned. Win-win-win situation.

Kian didn't seem to think so, though. He looked hesitant, maybe even a bit concerned. What, did he think Rand couldn't handle something as simple as fucking washing his hair or something?

"You don't need to do that, dude-"

"Oh, come on, stop being so fucking difficult about shit. It's just me washing your hair, I'm not offering to sacrifice my life for you or something."

Not that he wouldn't do so if he was asked to, but whatever, not the point. Kian still didn't look too convinced, but after a moment he shrugged his shoulders, clearly trying to act more casual about it than he felt.

"Sure man, whatever. Like I said, I wasn't gonna do my whole routine anyways, it'll be fine." What the fuck was that supposed to mean? What, he was only agreeing because it was going to be easier or some shit? Fucking asshole, as if Rand was too stupid to figure out how to do it unless Kian dumbed it down for him.

"What, you think I couldn't fuckin' handle it otherwise?" Kian rolled his eyes, looking more amused than annoyed.

"Honestly, dude? Kinda yeah. It's complicated shit, especially compared to your two-in-one routine-"

"Oh, fuck off, just because I don't waste my time and energy on overly complicated sissy shit doesn't mean I'm a fucking idiot or something!"

"Didn't say you were, man. I'm just sayin', I use, like, thirteen times as many products as you do."

"You know what? Fuck you, if you think I can't do that shit, then I'll prove you wrong! I don't care if you weren't going to bother with the whole thing, I'm doing your entire fucking routine from start to finish and you can't stop me."

What the fuck was he even promising? He didn't know how to do that shit, and he doubted Kian was exaggerating about the number of products he used. But, also, no way he was letting Kian act like he was fucking better than him because of that shit. It was just hair, he could figure it out, right? It couldn't be that hard.

Kian didn't seem too confident in his abilities, though. He looked at Rand with a mix of shocked and disbelief, though it was pretty quickly replaced by a smug, challenging smirk. Rand needed to wipe it off his face more than he'd ever needed anything else before.

"Okay, dude. Hope you didn't have anything planned for the next few hours." No, he didn't. When did he ever?

"Great. I'll go draw a bath for you, you can… I don't know, switch into a swimsuit or some shit, I don't need to see any more of your body than I need to."

"Fuck you, I've got a nice dick, you're just jealous-"

"I don't want to fucking hear about it either! Anyways, bring your… hair shit to the primary bath when you're done, okay? All of it. Got it?"

Kian gave a mock salute, to which Rand responded with a middle finger, before stomping out of Kian's room and into the primary bath. What had he fucking gotten himself into, genuinely? He couldn't back out now, he'd never fucking live it down. But he really didn't want to risk messing up Kian's hair either, both because how fucking embarrassing would it be if Kian had been right, and because even if he was an ass, Rand knew how much Kian's hair meant to him. He didn't want to ruin it.

No, Kian wouldn't have agreed to this if there was a risk of Rand seriously fucking up his hair. And, besides, Kian would probably be willing to tell him what to do with the different shit if he was way too clueless about it. It wasn't a test of whether he could do it with no help, it was just about whether he could do it, period. It'd be fine… probably.

He shook the thoughts from his head, instead stepping over to the bathtub at the other end of the room, putting the plug in before turning the water on. He let it be a bit hotter than he himself would have liked it, since Kian loved showering in damn near boiling water, it was probably the same for baths. He did still make sure it didn't get too hot, though. The last thing they needed was Kian suffering from mild burns while already doing badly.

By the time Kian entered the room, every reflective surface in there was fogged up from the heat. Barc followed after him- like he always did, like the good boy that he was- sticking close to his legs and wagging his tail softly.

Just as Rand had requested, Kian was wearing a swimsuit, a pair of frankly ridiculous trunks with a tiger pattern on them. Though, honestly, Rand was just glad they weren't speedos or some shit. The hair mask or whatever he'd had on earlier had also been washed off, and his hair was still slightly dripping water onto the rest of his body.

"Alright, dude, here's all the shit you've gotta use." He showed off a bag he'd brought in with him, clearly filled with quite a lot of stuff, before setting it on the washing machine. Rand turned off the tub faucet as Kian began unpacking, turning to look at the absolutely ridiculous amount of products he'd brought with him.

Rand wasn't even going to try and count them all. There were far too many bottles and tubes of different shit, and a few containers in other shapes as well. Every time he thought that must have been it, no, there was somehow more. How? How the fuck could one person need that many things for their hair?

Alongside the products was also a hairdryer- with some sort of weird add-on at the end of it, like a circle with dull spikes on it- a hairbrush, a timer similar to ones his mom would use when baking, and two towels. At least Rand had some clue what to do with that shit, even if he had no idea why the dryer looked like that. There was probably some reason. There was probably some reason for all of this shit, but Rand didn't know where he'd begin trying to figure any of it out.

"How the hell can you have this much shit for your hair?" Kian shrugged his shoulders, sorting through the different items to place them in some kind of order. He had a frustratingly innocent smile on his face as he cocked his head to the side, looking at Rand with an annoying sparkle in his eye.

"You can still go back on that promise, man. If you're too scared…"

"Fuck you, not happening. I'm just saying, no fucking way that you actually need all of this stuff. You're definitely wasting your money on some of it."

"Dude, you said you wanted to do my whole routine. This is the whole thing. No, I don't use all of this shit, like, daily. Just most of it."

Whatever, it was Kian's money. Or was it Rolan's? No, he was pretty sure Kian had insisted on using what money he had left to buy his hair shit when he'd needed to restock during their grocery shopping. Either way, if Kian wanted to spend the little money he had on what was probably just random shit in a bottle, meant to get gullible people to buy it for no actual benefit, then that was his decision.

Kian was almost definitely getting scammed, though. Seriously, he couldn't need all of this shit. Plus the hair mask he'd had on before, Christ, he had even more stuff that wasn't here, probably. Whatever, Rand would try not to think about that too much. Thinking about how much money Kian was wasting on these products was starting to hurt his brain.

"Just… get in the bath, I'll figure this shit out." Kian hesitated for a moment, the playfulness in his expression gone and replaced with slight concern. Rand was starting to worry he'd somehow managed to say something horribly wrong, when Kian spoke up, his voice much softer and more genuine than before.

"All jokes aside, dude, you don't have to do this, okay? Like, I'm not gonna think you're an idiot or something if you don't, you can change your mind about it." Rand waved his hand dismissively. It wasn't like he had anything better to be doing with his time, he might as well prove he could be useful with something.

"I know, I know. I didn't offer to help you just to prove a point."

"Still, if you don't want to do the whole thing-"

"I'll let you know if that happens, Ki. Now just get in the fuckin' bath already, you're shivering like hell."

Kian nodded finally, walking over to the tub and stepping into it with a little bit of hesitance. A small, content sigh left his mouth as he relaxed into the warm water, and Rand felt a small twinge of pride at himself as he watched the tension leave Kian's body.

Barc let out a quiet huff, laying down on the bathmat and closing his eyes. Rand leaned over to give him a couple scratches behind the ears, before turning back to the ridiculous amount of products he was supposed to be using.

"…I'm gonna need some help figuring out what I'm supposed to actually do with all this shit." Kian nodded, offering him a small, gentle smile.

"Yeah, don't worry, I'm not gonna just leave you in the dark. I put them in the order they should be used in, so just… follow that for the most part, yeah? I'll explain each step when it comes up." Okay, that helped things a little, at least. Although first in the line was three bottles in no clear order, so that kind of confused things.

"So, uh-"

"Oh, those are all just different shampoo. The order doesn't really matter, dude, just apply one, rinse, and repeat with the other two. If it's not too much, I… I usually brush my hair before and after them. Not all of them, just, once now, once after all three.

"Got it."

He grabbed one of the three bottles at random, alongside the hairbrush, before settling on a stool next to the bathtub and gesturing at Kian to get him to turn around a little so Rand could get access to his hair. Kian obliged, wincing slightly as Rand began to run the brush through his hair. Try as he might, it was hard to be gentle with how many small knots there were in the hair. Rand did still try, though, and after a few minutes he was satisfied enough with the work he'd done.

He took the bottle, and squirted a generous amount of the shampoo onto his hands, rubbing them together for a moment to get it to bubble up a little before applying it to Kian's hair. At least this he couldn't mess up. It was just shampoo, basic shit, he just had to make sure to apply it evenly. There was an artificial flowery scent to it, similar to the perfume his mother would wear to hide at least some of the cigarette smell always stuck to her.

He grabbed the shower head, gently pushed Kian forwards to hopefully prevent any water from getting on his jeans, and then began to wash off the first of the several products he was going to have to use.

"What on Earth do you need three shampoos for, anyways?"

"Is that, like, a rhetorical question, or do you actually wanna know?"

"…you know what, it was rhetorical, but fuck it, tell me. I'm curious now."

Kian let out a quiet hum as Rand turned around and grabbed the second shampoo off of the washing machine, before starting to apply it as well.

"One of them's for, like, dyed or bleached hair. Helps prevent your hair from getting too damaged, you know? Then one is for helping if you have a sensitive scalp or get dandruff easily or whatever. And the last one's for curly hair. Got a bunch of natural oils in it and shit." Okay, at least that made… some sense. Explained some of it. Although Rand had no clue why someone would need a different shampoo specifically for curly hair, hair's hair, right?

He didn't voice that aloud, though. He simply hummed in understanding, and continued the process of applying and rinsing off shampoo. He made sure to apply the last one- that according to the etiquette seemed to be the second one Kian had explained- especially on his scalp, rubbing his fingers hard enough against Kian's skull that he almost feared he might have been hurting him.

Once that was washed off as well, Rand brushed through the hair again, before turning to the next step. It seemed to be two different types of conditioner, and he raised a questioning eyebrow at Kian, who began to explain them without him even needing to ask aloud.

"The pink one's for curly hair, the silver one's for bleached hair. To help with the color and stuff." Rand didn't actually know which one Kian was talking about, honestly, his glasses just made everything seem orange. But whatever, using conditioner wasn't exactly difficult either. He applied one of them to Kian's hair, let it sit for about two minutes, rinsed, and then repeated with the other one. Not exactly the most complicated process.

It was after that that he'd need some more help, probably. He took the next bottle in row, the front of it had 'Curl Lotion' written on it in large, bold letters. How much shit for specifically curly hair could one person possibly need?

"That was all the shit that needed to be washed off, dude, the rest just… gets to stay there. You can use one of the towels to get off some of the excess water in my hair, make's the drying process a little shorter." The towels were stupidly soft as he grabbed one, although Kian quickly grabbed it from him because apparently just ruffling the hair with it wasn't the right way to dry it.

After the lotion, was apparently a third fucking conditioner, different from the first two in that it was supposed to be left in the hair rather than washed off. He got a small dollop of it on his hands, as Kian instructed, and applied it as evenly as he could through the hair.

"You can stop now, if you want, man. That's, like, all the basic shit I was gonna do myself, the rest is more for looks than, like, the health of my hair or whatever."

"I've gotten this far, might as well finish the whole thing. Besides, there's less than half the shit left."

Kian didn't look convinced, but nodded anyways. Rand took the next item in the line of crap, a tub that when opened, revealed what looked like some kind of clear jelly.

"That's scrunching jelly. You, like… shit, dude, how do I explain it, just… get a bunch of it on your hands, and then… scrunch my hair? Like, take sections of it and just-" Kian raised a small bit of his hair up and squeezed it as an example "-do that. A bunch of times. Don't be scared to use a lot of it, also, you should be able to like, hear the squelch when you do it."

Okay. Sure. Sure, he could figure this out. Probably. He scooped up a fair amount of the jelly onto his fingers- it felt weird, and kind of gross- and under Kian's watch, spread it on his palms before grabbing a small section of Kian's hair and… scrunching it up.

Just as Kian had said, he was definitely able to hear the sound it made. Squelching, gross, it reminded him of walking on the flesh covered ground in Galloway. Not nearly as bloody or gross, but still. He also didn't really know if he was doing it right at all, but Kian wasn't complaining, so he took that as a yes.

He continued that for a couple minutes or so, adding more of the jelly a few times just to make sure he was getting enough of it everywhere in Kian's stupidly thick hair. When he was finally done, he turned on the sink to wash the excess off of his hands, Jesus, he hadn't like the feeling of that.

"Can you give me the other towel, dude?" He gave Kian a nod, and then grabbed the second- equally soft- towel off of the washer. Kian stood up from the water- that was very cloudy by now with all the product that had gotten in it- and took the towel, wrapping it around himself with a soft sigh.

"What's next, then?"

"Gotta dry it. And, look, like I said, if you don't wanna do the whole thing-"

"Ki, please just stop. I got it, if I want to stop, I can, understood. Just… sit down somewhere further from the water, I'll plug in your weird-ass hairdryer."

Kian looked like he wanted to argue, but didn't. Instead, he sat down on the stool Rand had been sitting on up until now, shivering slightly even with the towel around him. Rand, meanwhile, plugged in the dryer, made sure it worked fine, and then turned back to Kian.

"Is there a reason it looks like some medieval torture device, or..?" Kian snickered, and Rand couldn't help the small bit of pride the reaction caused within him. It wasn't weird that he felt warm making Kian laugh, it was normal. He was his friend. It wasn't fucking weird.

"Yeah, man, there's a reason. Basically, you need to, like… gather a section- about a fourth or so- of my hair in the dish, or whatever, raise it up, and then, just, keep it there while it dries. About fifteen minutes per section, plus then fifteen minutes for the roots, and fifteen for any parts that didn't quite get dry during their initial fifteen minutes."

…he shouldn't have agreed to this. No, he didn't even agree, he fucking offered. Why? That was… no, fuck that, he wasn't doing math, at least over an hour. Just to fucking dry Kian's hair. Why. What had made him think this would be a good idea.

Kian seemed to notice his deep-seeded regret regarding every decision he'd ever made that had led him to this moment. Rand knew what he was about to say before he even said anything, he didn't have to do this. He could just say fuck it and stop. Nothing was keeping him here, except for his pride, and Kian.

If only both of those things weren't some of the most important, yet most fragile things in his life.

"Jesus, let's just get this fuckin' started then, already. Let's see if we're done with this by the time Rolan gets back home."

"Are-"

"Yes, I'm sure. Wouldn't be doing this otherwise."

He turned the hairdryer on, covering the sounds of whatever further objections Kian might have voiced. Actually figuring out how what exactly he was supposed to be doing was a struggle, but soon enough he had about a quarter of Kian's hair raised up with the dryer while Kian's head was leaned over in a position that couldn't have been very comfortable, and the first of many fifteen minute timers was going.

It wasn't a difficult process by any means, honestly. But Christ, was it boring. The sounds from the hairdryer meant they couldn't exactly easily talk about anything, and it wasn't like Rand had thought to bring anything in with him to pass the time with.

Time was dragging by at a snail's pace. He swore the timer had been at 13.46 left for several seconds at this point. 13.45. 13.44. 13.43… this was it, this was the thing that was finally going to break his sanity for good. Not Galloway, not the bug shit, not all the weed or his sister or anything, nope, just having to sit here and hold Kian's hair in a fucking dish with spikes on it to let it dry. 13.35. He was going to fucking scream.

The minutes passed agonizingly slowly. Barc fell asleep on the bathmat at some point, and if Rand were able to, he would have tried to do the same. By the time the timer finally went off, he could have cried from relief. Except, well, he wasn't done. Nowhere close to it, actually.

He gave Kian a few moments to stretch his back and shoulders, and then it was right back to the torture. He'd been joking about the thing looking like a torture device, but looked like he'd been right after all. He just hadn't expected to be the one getting tortured.

How did Kian do this shit? He knew Kian usually had an even worse attention span than Rand did, unless it was something he was really interested in, how the hell could he handle this on an almost daily basis? Well, because it was one of the things he was really interested in. But still. It was so fucking boring.

His hand was starting to cramp by the time the second timer went off. He switched hands. Kian stretched more. Rand took up the next section of his hair.

He'd offered to do this. Why? Because he'd taken Kian's innocent comment as an attack and had needed to defend his ego. His fragile, fragile ego, that a small breeze could break apart. His other hand was starting to cramp. Already, how? He could have been doing anything else right now. Watching TV. Sleeping. Drawing. Eating. Smoking. And that was where his hobbies ended, Jesus, his life was depressing.

Time… moved… much… slower… than… usual. He stared at the timer, every second took at least five to pass. He counted. He definitely counted wrong, and he was sure if he were to ask anyone else, they would have said that the seconds went just as quick as always. But what did anyone else know? Fuck that. Fuck this. Fuck everything.

Kian flinched when the timer went off a third time, had he fallen asleep? Maybe. He mumbled something incomprehensible as Rand reset the timer again and moved onto the last section of his hair. Not the last timer, though, no, there were still two more after this. He was at the halfway point. He was either going to manage this, or shrivel up and die.

He could very barely see Kian's face behind the hair hanging in front of his face. His eyes were closed, he looked like he was asleep again. How could he fucking sleep with the sound next to his ear? It was insane. Or maybe Kian was just insane. Maybe Rand was. Maybe they both were. Yeah, that sounded like the most likely option. They were both incurably and utterly insane.

The towel around Kian's shoulders had slipped off slightly at some point. When, Rand didn't know. But it revealed Kian's shoulder, the tattoos reaching up his arm, and the ones on his collarbones. The shapes were misshapen by Kian's bones showing through against them. He was still so skinny. Rand didn't know what to do about it. He didn't know how to help him. How to get him to eat more.

Kian couldn't eat. Because of his trauma about Becky. So maybe Rand needed to help him get over that trauma? How the fuck was he supposed to do that? Should he just start insisting that Kian at least try to eat something more solid from time to time? Or would that only hurt him more?

To push, or not to push. Should he demand answers and risk hurting Kian, or let him move at his own pace and risk never getting anywhere with him? He knew what Rolan's answer was. He also knew what his own preferred one was. But he didn't know what would actually help Kian. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. He never really did.

This time they both flinched when the timer went off. Kian stretched more fully this time, yawning while Rand set the timer to the same hellish fifteen minutes. How had he already done an hour of this torture? How was there still more?

"You can- you don't need to-"

"Don't fucking start again-"

"Wasn't going to, dude… just, don't keep it still, you know? Move it- move it across the roots and stuff. To make sure they're… dried evenly."

Kian sounded half-asleep still, his words kept getting interrupted by small yawns and sighs. At least that sounded less mind-numbingly boring than the process had been thus far.

He set the timer for fifteen minutes again, and got to work on Kian's roots. He didn't pay much attention to where exactly he was placing the dryer at different points, honestly, he wasn't paying much attention to anything. God, he wished he had some weed right about now. Maybe Kian had some stashed somewhere. He should ask after this.

By the time the timer went off again, Rand was fully, and entirely, done with this whole thing. Surely they didn't actually need another fifteen minutes of this shit? Kian's hair looked dry enough. Please, for the love of God, let it be dry enough.

"I cannot fucking do another fifteen minutes of that, Ki. Just- please tell me that's good enough? Please? I'm gonna either kill you or myself if you say no." Kian let out a small laugh at the last comment, but nodded, thank fucking God. With the washing and drying done, Kian's hair was almost as it usually was, curly as hell and wild, but in a stupidly cool way.

"Yeah, dude, it's fine. Are you fine to do the last few steps though, or..?"

"…do any of them take over an hour?"

"Nah, like, five minutes max in total."

"Then fuck it, yeah, sure. Just- I'm never doing this again. I've proved myself enough I think, I am never doing this again."

Kian just laughed again, as Rand unplugged the hairdryer and set it aside. He grabbed the next of the containers that had been sitting abandoned all this time, a small bottle with what looked like some kind of oil in it.

"Isn't the point of washing your hair to keep it from getting oily? Why the fuck would you put some in willingly after all that shit?" He didn't let his own questions stop him from getting a small amount of it on his hands, though. He barely understood what any of the shit had been used for up until this point anyways, he might as well just go with it.

"Oh, the leave-in and the scrunching jelly can make your hair get all… crunchy. The oil helps with that, dude. Just apply some on your palms and then, like, run them through my hair a few times? That should do it." Sure, why not. He rubbed his palms together to get the oil on both of them, and then began to almost pet Kian's hair, applying the oil in all the places it had gotten crunchy in. There was definitely a small bit of wetness still mixed in there as well, but Rand could not be less bothered about it at this point.

After the oil, was some kind of spray. Kian instructed him to shake it well before applying it, apparently it was meant to help with the frizz or something. He didn't apply too much of it, only a couple sprays before Kian said it was good enough.

Then there were two. First was hairspray- finally something Rand understood, even if he'd never had a reason to use it himself- that he put in to help his hair keep its volume.

And, finally, Rand grabbed the last, small bottle off of the washing machine. It looked more like a perfume bottle than anything, it was just a basic, fancy glass bottle with a tiny spray thing on top. He read the etiquette of it more out of curiosity than anything else-

"…Kian, why the fuck do you need perfume for your hair?" Kian had the audacity to shrug his shoulders.

"Smells good. I don't use it, like, daily, man, but you said you wanted to do the whole thing. So…"

"How much of all of that shit do you do daily?"

"I guess I don't do almost any of it every single day, but, like… everything up to the oil. The styling spray and hairspray are just for if I'm going out somewhere, and the perfume I usually only use when I go clubbing or whatever."

"…you're fucking insane, you know that? I thought that was my role in this friendship, but no. It's you. You, Kian Stone, are fucking nuts."

Kian cackled at the comment like an absolute maniac, punching Rand in his forearm. It wasn't hard enough to hurt, he kind of doubted Kian's ability to hit someone hard enough to hurt them in the first place.

"Hey! Watch it, or I'm spraying this shit on your face instead." He threatened, and Kian rolled his eyes, raising his hands in mock surrender. He settled back down, though, and Rand did a couple small sprays of the perfume onto his hair, before stepping back to see the results of his torment.

Kian's hair looked good, he couldn't deny that. Much better than Rand had thought he could do, even with Kian's help. The curls were just as unruly as always, but they were defined, and there was a lot of volume to the hair. He didn't really know how to actually describe it in any meaningful sense, but it looked good.

He stepped aside as Kian stood up, checking the results out in the mirror. He looked happy with the results, the smile on his lips made Rand's heart beat inexplicably fast.

"Fine, you win, you did great, dude. Man, it's a shame to waste it lookin' this good on just, like, lazing around all day, wish I could go out and show it off or somethin'." He felt warm- too warm, ridiculously warm- at Kian's praise, but he tried to ignore it. Yeah, he had done well. He'd done fucking fantastic, in fact.

Before he could voice any of those thoughts out-loud, though, he heard the sound of a lock turning down the hall, followed by the front door opening. There was some mumbled swearing from Rolan as the door slammed shut, and Kian and Rand exchanged slightly concerned glances.

Stepping out into the hallway, it didn't take a genius to figure out the source of Rolan's upset. The entryway floor was now completely covered in quickly melting snow, as was Rolan himself. Seemed like a proper snowstorm had started at some point during the past… however many hours.

"You look like shit." Rand commented, and Rolan responded by flipping him off as he struggled to take his shoes off. He opened his mouth, probably to say something equally childish in return, but Kian stepped out of the bathroom behind Rand at that moment. Still wearing nothing but the swimsuit and a towel.

Rolan's cheeks had already been colored red from the cold, but it was even more noticeable now. Rand saw his eyes widen, before Rolan quickly turned to look away, suddenly very interested in the plain wall next to him.

"Uh- hey. How- was today okay?" Christ, he sounded so fucking awkward. It took Rand all of his self-control to not make fun of him for it, God damn dork.

"Yeah, dude, Rand helped me wash my hair."

"Never doing that again, for the record."

"I didn't even ask you to, man, you offered! And I told you you could cut it short if-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Chill, Ki."

Rolan had finished taking his coat off, and was now clearly trying to avoid looking at Kian's almost-naked body without making it obvious that was what he was doing. Rand couldn't help but roll his eyes, for fuck's sake, it wasn't like Rolan hadn't seen Kian in even less clothing before. Granted, yes, they'd been a little preoccupied trying to stop the world from ending at the time, but still.

"It looks- it looks nice. Uh, sorry I'm home late, I… I got you guys something? Here." Rand hadn't even noticed the two shopping bags Rolan had alongside his usual briefcase until now. Rolan grabbed them from where he'd set them on the floor earlier, and offered the bags towards them.

"Dude, you didn't need to-"

"I kind of did, honestly. Just- just take them, okay? I hope they fit alright."

Kian looked conflicted, hesitant, but he still reached over and took the bag Rolan was offering him. Rand didn't. All he could think about was the last time Rolan had gotten him something, the fucking glasses he was wearing right at that moment. The immediate guilt-tripping, the way Rolan had barely given them to him before holding the cost of them against him. He hadn't even asked for them. He hadn't asked for whatever the fuck Rolan was offering him now.

Rolan looked at him, his arm still extended, his expression growing more and more nervous the longer Rand stood still without accepting his 'gift'. He didn't want to fucking deal with this shit again. Least of all from Rolan.

Chapter Text

Rolan was looking at him, holding his hand out, still holding the bag out towards him. Every second that passed his expression grew more nervous, his eyes shifted from side to side the same way they always did when he was anxious or unsure about something, like he was looking for a way out.

Rand didn't say a word as he finally reached over and grabbed the bag, his heart beating so loud in his chest he feared it might burst. He could feel both Rolan's and Kian's eyes on him, judging him, looking at him like he was fucking insane and once again acting crazy over nothing.

The bag rustled as he pulled out the contents of it, and his eyes narrowed at the bundle of fabric. A coat. A simple, dark blue one, much better for the coldness of Chicago than anything Rand owned. It was similar to the one Rolan wore, but several sizes bigger so it would actually fit him, with a rounder collar and a shorter hem.

If you asked him, he couldn't tell you why just the sight of it made him want to snap, made him want to scream and punch at someone. His eyes drifted to Rolan for only a second, to the anxiously hopeful look in his eyes as he waited for a reaction. For a thanks, for Rand to start fucking falling over himself to show just how grateful he was, for a polite 'oh, you shouldn't have'.

He knew it was the reaction he should have had. It was the nice thing to do, the right thing to do. He was an asshole for the growing feeling of anger and bitterness inside of him, Rolan had tried to do something nice for him. He should have been grateful.

"Fucking keep it, I don't need shit from you." He shoved the coat back to Rolan's arms unceremoniously, somehow managing to keep his voice even, the fire inside him contained. Catching a glimpse of Rolan's shocked and upset expression, he spun around, and shoved past Kian towards his bedroom.

"Wha- dude, why-?" He didn't respond to Kian's question, or even bother stopping to listen to the whole thing. Instead, he slammed the door shut behind him hard enough to cause himself to flinch.

His breathing was heavy, and his eyes had began to sting with unshed tears he hadn't even realized had begun building up in them. His legs shook as he walked over to his bed, collapsing onto the soft mattress.

Why did he feel so fucking awful? He had no reason to, yeah, he'd been tired from doing Kian's hair, but not… not tired enough to justify getting so angry over Rolan buying him a fucking gift. He could practically hear his mom's voice, telling him to be kinder and more polite, to not act so ungrateful over a gift.

Hey, at least he'd been able to control himself instead of just snapping, right? He hadn't started yelling, hadn't made things way worse than they needed to be. He'd just… left the situation. That was something to be proud of, wasn't it? Maybe. He wasn't really sure.

Fucking whatever, who cared? He hadn't done anything wrong. He hadn't fucking asked Rolan to get him anything. He didn't want it. Yes, going outside in the clothes he owned had been hell, but he could have fucking managed. Rolan should have fucking asked him if he wanted something first, before getting it. Or- or at least fucking asked him what he wanted, let him have any fucking say in his own clothing, instead of just buying something.

And, besides, he knew how this shit went. Rolan bought him something, except it wasn't really his. It was Rolan's money, and that meant he could fucking take it away, or hold it over Rand's head, or tell him what to fucking do with it, like with the glasses. He didn't fucking need any more things to owe Rolan for. That made it sound like he was somehow fucking beneath him, and fuck that, he wasn't. He wasn't.

Even if he relied on Rolan for fucking everything. Even if he was too mentally ill to even work, to support himself. Even if he could have never afforded to buy a coat for himself. He didn't- that didn't make him less-than. It… it didn't fucking matter. He should have had a fucking say in his own God damn clothing, even if he wasn't buying it, even if he should have just been grateful to get something-

…God, he was a fucking asshole. It wasn't like he didn't know that, of course he did, but, just- fuck, he was an asshole. It never used to bother him, it never bothered him when it came to other people. He didn't care if the neighbors, or teachers, or strangers at a store thought he was an asshole.

But it was different with his friends, just like it had been with his family. That disappointed way his mom would have looked at him, mirrored on Kian's face when he acted like a stupid fucking kid because he didn't get his way about something. The tired, disapproving way Rolan would sigh, the same sigh his dad would have had whenever he acted out for no good fucking reason. He hated it, he dreaded it, he hated knowing that he deserved it.

And he did deserve it. Because he'd once again snapped over fucking nothing. Because he felt upset about Rolan getting him a gift. Because he was acting like some asshole brat, rather than the adult he was supposed to be.

A month ago, it wouldn't have bothered him this much. A week ago, even. He didn't know what had changed, why the thought of his friends being disappointed in him or upset with him sounded so much worse than it used to. Maybe some of Kian's bullshit therapy talk had finally gotten through to him, flipped some 'hey you should be nice to other people' switch in his brain or some shit.

He kind of would have preferred he didn't care, honestly. It would have been much easier, much nicer to just continue feeling justified and moping away alone in his room, staring at the ceiling and only coming out once enough time had passed that they could pretend the earlier interaction hadn't even happened. But Rolan fucking deserved better than that, and God damn it, Rand might have been an asshole, but the least he could do was apologize to his friend, right?

The floorboard creaked under his feet as he stood up, swearing quietly under his breath. Since when had he fucking done this? Since when had he been capable of acting like a grownup, to not just want to make things right, but fucking put in the effort to initiate that? He didn't have to. Nothing was forcing him to. He just didn't want his friends to be upset.

Fucking bullshit, honestly.

He cracked the door open slowly, half-expecting, maybe even half-hoping that the second he did, Rolan would be out there, ready to start an argument with him, ready to fall back into the same familiar routine they both knew far too well. But, no, of course not. The hallway was empty, there was no yelling, no fire to fight back against with some of his own. Just silence, and a horrible sense of calm, gnawing at him as he shut the door behind him and walked to the living room.

The living room was calm, quiet, with an anxious energy hanging in the air. Rand's eyes met Kian's first, lounging on their singular armchair in a position that Rand had a hard time believing was comfortable. He was wearing a sweater that was too large for him- probably one of Rolan's- and Rand's denim jacket on top, and tight, slightly too big leather pants on the bottom. He looked up at Rand, his expression a mix of concern and surprise, and Rand had to look away before he could begin to read into it too much.

Rand had to fight back the urge to snap at him for being up, and even more-so at Rolan for allowing it. He was sick, he'd already been out of bed for too long while Rand washed his hair, he should have been resting. But starting another argument about it would only end with all of them more upset than before.

Barc was laying on the floor near Kian, looking up at Rand with wide, concerned eyes. A quiet whine came out of the dog's shut mouth as he stood up slowly, before trotting over to Rand, nudging against his leg in an attempt at comfort, probably. Rand scratched him between the ears, before finally forcing himself to look up at Rolan.

He wished Rolan would have looked angry. He wished he would have had something to defend himself from, something to attack in return. But instead, Rolan's expression was almost the exact same as Kian's. Concerned, confused, surprised, all covered with a layer of hurt. Rand took a deep breath, and finally made himself speak, trying to keep his voice level.

"I'm- I'm sorry." The words felt much harder to say than they should have been, it felt like there was a knot in his throat, trying to push down on them as he spoke them aloud. He saw Rolan's eyes widen even more in surprise, like that was the last thing he'd ever expected to hear from Rand's mouth. And Rand couldn't even blame him for it.

A second passed in silence. Another. For once, even Kian wasn't saying anything. They were probably waiting for Rand to continue, to elaborate, or maybe to take it all back. Jesus, why was this so fucking hard?

"…yeah, just- sorry. I shouldn't have… snapped at you like that. Whatever." More silence, stretching between them, pressing down on Rand with an impossible weight. He'd never been as relieved as he was when Rolan finally responded.

"…it's- it's fine. I forgive you." Rand nodded in acknowledgment, without actually bothering to face Rolan. Jesus, this whole situation was fucking awkward, what the hell was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do? Were they just done here, should he move on like everything was fine, what-

"Do you wanna talk about it, dude?" The silence was broken by Kian's gentle, so stupidly, horribly gentle voice. Talk about what? What the fuck was there to even talk about? Rand shrugged his shoulders, trying to avoid meeting either of their eyes.

"What the hell am I supposed to want to talk about?"

"Well... whatever's going on, man. Why you got upset."

"There isn't anything fucking 'going on', I'm just- I fucking got angry over nothing, you know what I'm like, this shit isn't exactly a new God damn development."

He was just an asshole. An asshole who took everything way too personally, who got upset over every little thing, who couldn't keep his temper under control. Kian should have fucking known that by now, he'd been on the receiving end of Rand's unjustified rage more times than he could count.

"…Rand, dude, that's not true." He couldn't help the humorless, cold laugh that left his mouth at that. Of course it was true, he might have been an idiot, but at least he fucking knew himself.

"You should at least listen to Kian, you know…" Rolan spoke again, sounding much more hesitant, like he was worried that every word he said might have caused Rand to snap again. Which was all the more proof that Kian was full of shit, just like usual.

"I'm not going to fucking listen to him when he's just lying to make me feel better-"

"That's not what's happening, man. I- look, yeah, you tend to get angry over a lot of things. Including plenty of smaller things that… you probably shouldn't."

"So what the fuck are we even arguing about, if we agree-"

"Dude, let me finish. You can get mad over a lot, but it's never over nothing. Even if it feels small, there's always some reason for it, and usually that reason goes a lot deeper than what it might initially seem. So, man, just… if you're up for it, we should talk about what that reason is. It'd help you avoid not getting in this same situation again."

He highly doubted that. Even if there was a reason for his shit, what would talking about it help? But if he said no, then Kian would just keep bringing it up over and over again, trying to push him to fucking 'open up about his feelings' and 'tell them what was wrong' like the God damn hypocrite that he was.

…maybe he should agree to talk. Did he think it'd help, no, he didn't. But at least then Kian wouldn't be able to hold it against him. And… well, he wanted Kian to be more open with them. Shouldn't he at least try to act how he wanted Kian to, to be a fucking positive influence or whatever? Christ, he sounded like his fucking mom with that. But he might as well at least try.

He sighed, and walked forward a few steps, collapsing into a sitting position on the floor next to the coffee table. Was it comfortable? No, definitely not. But whatever, he could manage. Barc laid on the ground next to him, resting his chin on Rand's leg while sighing heavily.

"Fine, we can talk. If you- if you think it'll help." Kian smiled at him, that stupidly gentle and reassuring smile, like he was proud. Like there was any reason for anyone to be proud of Rand. He turned to look at Rolan, who still looked more concerned than hopeful, though he wasn't sure if he was worried about Rand or for him.

"Hell yeah, dude. Okay, to start with… can you tell us- or Rolan, more importantly- why you got upset? Like, what about the jacket was it?" God, this felt so stupid. Like Kian was trying to play at being their therapist or some shit, just like he so often did. But Rand had said he'd try. He owed Rolan at least that.

"It's not- it wasn't about the jacket specifically, I don't fucking care about that, just- I don't- Christ, I don't fucking know how to say this shit…"

"Take your time. We're not- we can spend as long as you need on this, Rand."

"…I didn't want- I don't like you getting me shit that you could then hold over me, okay? Especially when I didn't ask for it, I don't want to owe you shit just because you got me a fucking gift."

"Wh- Rand, you don't- I wouldn't hold that over you, and you don't owe me anything, I just-"

"Uh-huh, sure. You say that, but then the second I do something you don't like you're gonna start guilting me, or I don't treat that jacket as well as you'd like so you'll threaten to take it away or some shit-"

Fuck, he needed to calm down. He could feel himself growing more upset again, for no good fucking reason just like always. It wasn't like Rolan wasn't right for it, Rand should have been more fucking grateful and respectful and whatever else bullshit his parents had tried to teach him. It was just… God, he didn't even know. He just hated it. He hated all of this.

"Rand, it's- it was a gift. Why would I- like you said, you didn't even ask me for it, I'm not going to-"

"Yeah, a gift. Like these glasses you got me, where within a God damn minute you started using the fact they were expensive against me. Actions fucking speak louder than words, Deep."

A tense, uncomfortable silence settled over them once again. Rolan could say whatever he wanted, but Rand wasn't buying it when he knew it was all bullshit. He was starting to get really tired of both of his friends lying to him at all times.

"…I'm sorry." Rolan's quiet words cut through the silence, and Rand could do nothing but sigh and shake his head. He had no reason to be sorry, Rand was still the one acting like an entitled asshole.

"Don't fucking apologize, you haven't done anything wrong-"

"Yes, I have. Rand, seriously, I- I shouldn't have acted like such an ass about the glasses. I just… I wanted to do something nice for you, and it hurt that it didn't feel like you- like you cared. But I shouldn't have fucking held that against you, especially when you were already going through a migraine, I just- I was overwhelmed, and worried, and… and I took that out on you. And I'm sorry."

This wasn't how he was expecting the conversation to go. Not in the slightest. He was supposed to apologize, and then they were supposed to move on like everything was back to normal, because he was the one in the wrong and he'd admitted that. But instead, Rolan seemed genuinely fucking guilty, and he didn't know how to deal with it. He didn't know how to deal with any of this.

"Rand, I promise, you don't… you don't owe me anything. Not for the glasses, or for the jacket, or anything. I don't want you to feel like you owe me, that's not the point. I just- I want to get you guys things. Because you're my friends, because- because I care about you. Not so I can have some fucking leverage to hold over you later."

He wanted to believe that. And part of him did, a part of him knew Rolan well enough that he knew he was telling the truth. That part of him remembered that Rolan had always showed his care by giving them things, without ever expecting anything more than their friendship in return. That even for the past months, Rolan had paid for almost anything for the three of them, without ever complaining, ever saying anything about it, except for one, single time with the glasses.

But another part of him refused to buy it. Refused to believe that Rolan wouldn't look down on him for needing to rely on his charity, that Rolan would be willing to get him anything actually expensive for nothing in return. He didn't think Rolan would use it against him, not really, he knew Rolan wasn't the kind of person to do that, but… God, he didn't know. He didn't know what he was feeling, or what to do, or how to even respond.

"I… it's not like I don't believe you, I just… fuck, man, I don't know…"

"…do you feel like you owe him, man? Like… he'd be right to hold the stuff he pays for over your head?"

Kian finally spoke again, his voice soft, open. He didn't say the question like it was an accusation, or like there was a right or a wrong answer to it, it was just a question. One that he spoke so fucking carefully, that Rand was sure he already knew the answer to it.

"…kind of. I don't fucking know, yes? I don't fucking want to, but it's- it sometimes fucking feels like I do."

"Rand, you don't-"

"I know that! Fuck, Ro, I know I don't owe you shit! I know you're choosing all of this shit, and you're supporting us because you care, and I'm not fucking beneath you just 'cause my brain's fucked and I can't do shit for myself, but knowing that doesn't help! It doesn't fucking stop me from feeling like I'm nothing but a God damn freeloader!"

He didn't owe Rolan anything. Rolan didn't want him to owe him anything. He knew that, he understood that. But still, he couldn't fucking get it through to his head. He could only hear his parents' words at him over the years, about how he needed to get a job already, how they loved him but couldn't support him forever, how he should have been more grateful, should have been better, should have-

…oh. Jesus fucking Christ, he was an idiot.

"It's my parents' fucking fault." How did it take him so long to realize that? His parents would never let him forget how much they did for him, how he should have been grateful. Not every parent would have let their child live at home rent free at fucking thirty-three, he was lucky to have them as his parents. And… his mom had been good, and his parents had never threatened to kick him out or anything, but they hadn't hidden the fact they weren't happy about it.

And now he was fucking projecting that onto Rolan. Even if Rolan had never said anything that his parents would have, he'd held their words against him, and expected that he must have felt the same way somewhere deep down inside. It was fucking bullshit.

"Proud of you for figuring that out, man. I kinda assumed that might have been it, but… yeah, didn't wanna say anything if I was wrong." Fucking of course he did, because apparently Kian always had to know him better than he knew himself. It was bullshit, frankly.

"You couldn't have just brought that up as a possibility? Did we need to waste all this fucking time just talking?"

"I mean, I could've, dude, but it's more useful if you come to the conclusion yourself. That's what my therapist told me, at least."

He rolled his eyes, not bothering to retort with the fact that Kian wasn't his fucking therapist, but his friend. They'd had this conversation a thousand times, and nothing about Kian's behavior changed, it was starting to seem like a lost cause.

Or maybe that was because Rand kept telling Kian not to act like their therapist, but never actually tried to stop him. He hadn't put up any resistance to Kian once again putting himself in that role today, because… well, because it fucking worked. It helped. It helped to have Kian mediating their arguments, it helped to have him there, trying to figure out a way to make them both happy.

It worked. But it wasn't fair to Kian, was it? Always stuck between them, putting himself aside for their sake. Was it any wonder Kian had ended up with all the issues he had, when Rand and Rolan were continuously letting him act like he didn't matter? Like he was just there to help them through their issues?

"…Ki, can you- I wanna talk to Rolan. Alone. For a while." Jeez, he sounded so fucking awkward. He didn't like lying, really, but if he tried to get Kian to think about himself for even a moment, he'd no doubt find some way to weasel out of it. He'd only agree to stop worrying about their shit if he felt like he was doing it for them, that was just how he always seemed to work.

"…oh. Okay, sure, dude. I'll… uh… I'm gonna go to- my room then, I guess. Just… call out if you need anything?" Maybe he should have said his point a little more carefully. Kian was careful to keep his expression neutral, but Rand was still able to see the nearly invisible pain underneath it. Fuck, did he always have to make everything worse?

"Yeah, I will. Just… relax for a bit, okay? You've been up for way too long." He tried to sound reassuring, similarly gentle to the way Kian was with him, but he didn't think he did too great at it. Kian just nodded, giving a painfully fake smile as he walked past the coffee table and towards the entrance to the hallway.

Rand scratched Barc between his ears as the dog stood up with a stretch and a yawn, trotting after Kian. Rand and Rolan both sat in silence until they heard the sound of Kian's door closing, at which Rolan finally spoke up.

"Why'd you want him to leave?" He didn't sound accusatory or upset, just genuinely curious. Rand stared at the empty hallway for a moment longer, before turning to look at Rolan again, hoping he didn't look as shitty as he felt.

"I just- he shouldn't have to fucking be in the middle of our shit again. Actin' like he's our therapist or something can't be good for him."

"Yeah, that's… that's fair. I've been thinking the same, honestly, just… didn't know how to bring it up, I guess."

"Mhm. He can be a stubborn bitch when it comes to literally anything regarding his well-being, had to find some way to get him to agree to take a break without putting up too much of a fight."

Rolan nodded, and they fell back into the silence. Was the conversation over? Or should they keep talking about it, trying to find some kind of solution, or whatever? He didn't know. But for fuck's sake, they needed to be able to handle a single fucking conversation without Kian there to mediate it, so he was going to at least try.

"I don't know how to fucking stop feeling like this." Like what, he wasn't even sure. He really hoped Rolan wouldn't ask him to elaborate, because he really, truly, didn't know. He just wanted to feel fine. Not even good, not nice. But at least okay. It just felt like way too much to ask for.

"…I get it. Or, well, not the same thing exactly, but- I get your parents making you feel like shit about something, and not being able to get over that even though you know it's bullshit. It sucks ass."

"Yeah. It's not- it'd almost be easier if they were, like, horrible, abusive monsters or something, you know? At least then I could just ignore everything they said as bullshit. But they weren't. Yeah, my pa was shit, but… he could've been so much worse. At least I never got beat or anything, he just pretended I didn't exist."

"I know the feeling. It's… both our parents, they fucked up, but… at least they tried. And that somehow makes it worse."

It felt kind of ridiculous that Rolan was- at least if Rand was assuming correctly, since the idiot was refusing to just speak directly- comparing dealing with his homosexuality to Rand feeling bad about being given things, but whatever. Rolan was the one to make the comparison, not him. He'd just gone along with it.

"It's just… it's all just bullshit, man." He felt bad for even criticizing his parents like he was. They'd done their best, they'd never hurt him intentionally, he was lucky. Hell, he hadn't even been spanked for misbehaving as a kid! He'd gotten off so easy. But still, they'd fucked him up. And it was so fucking stupid.

"…is there anything I can do to help?" He shrugged his shoulders. Maybe there was, but fuck if he knew what that might have been. He wished someone else would have just had the answers for him. But also, even if someone did, he would probably not accept it. What the fuck did anyone else know about what would help him?

"I don't know. Maybe. Or maybe there's nothing that anyone can do to help, I have no clue. I just know that I feel like shit and thinking about why is only making me feel more shitty."

"We don't need to keep talking about this, if-"

"No, it's not- not like that. I just- fuck, Ro, I don't have the fucking answers! I never do! I feel like shit for having to rely on you, even though I know I shouldn't, but there's nothing I can do about it, because I can't fucking support myself. I- I know you're not going to use your money against me, but I just… I hate that you could. I hate that you have so much fucking control over me and my life and there's nothing I can do about it!"

Maybe that was what it all boiled down to. Control. He had no control, and he hated it. He was terrified of it. Even though it was all he'd ever known. His entire life, he'd had to rely on other people, he hadn't been able to control his life, and his paranoia and hallucinations and everything else meant he couldn't even control himself.

For years, he'd had to ask his parents for everything. And even if they'd always provided for him, fed and clothed him, he'd still been under that control. It had, ironically, been better when he was younger. When he'd been given some freedom as he aged, an allowance if he did his chores, his own car when he turned sixteen. Freedom. Control.

But then Rachel had gone missing. And… he'd given up that control willingly, even if he hadn't really realized that was what he was doing. He never went anywhere, so even if he had his car, it didn't get much use. He didn't do any chores, so he didn't get any money to buy his own things with.

And there'd been no way out of it. He wasn't smart enough to get into university, it was a miracle he'd even graduated from high school. The only job he'd ever had was because his dad managed to get him one at the factory, and he was fired within a couple months for missing too many shifts because he didn't have the energy to get out of bed in the morning. He'd had to either be dependent on his parents, or end up on the streets, it was as simple as that.

It was the same now, just with him being reliant on a different person. He was still under someone else's control. Even if Rolan didn't want to do anything with that fact, it was still true. Rand had no choice but to rely on him. No choice but to let someone else decide how his life went. And God, he hated it.

"I just wish I had some fucking control over my own life, but I don't. And there's nothing anyone can fucking do about it." He could feel tears threatening to rise to his eyes, but he forced them back down, he wasn't fucking crying. Not about something as stupid as this, absolutely not, fuck that.

"…I mean, there are ways you could feel less dependent on me-"

"What, by getting a job? I'm sure that'd end well, and definitely not with-"

"No, that's not- if you want, then sure, try and find a job, but it's not what I was going to suggest. I was thinking, I could… give you an allowance, or whatever? So you could have your own money to spend on whatever you want."

"I'm not a fucking kid, Ro. I don't need some fucking 'do your chores and you get a couple bucks for it' type of deal."

"It wouldn't be like that. Rand, just… I'd give you money. A set amount every week, or month, or whatever, not dependent on you doing anything. Not for any specific thing. Just… yeah, the money would still be from me, but it'd be yours. You'd have full control over when and where and on what to spend it. You wouldn't need to do anything for it, you wouldn't owe me for it. It'd just be yours."

He stared at Rolan, half-expecting him to crack and start laughing about the hilarious joke he was making, but he looked dead serious. Rand just… absolutely wasn't going to buy that.

It was entirely unfair, it was a one-sided deal in every possible way. He got free money while Rolan got nothing, nobody in their right mind would suggest that kind of exchange. It was a horrible deal for Rolan.

But maybe that was the point. It wasn't supposed to be a deal, it wasn't supposed to be some kind of business exchange. It was just… an offer. An offer from Rolan, a suggestion to help Rand. To make him feel better. Because they were friends. Because Rolan saw that he was struggling, and had the ability to help, and so he wanted to do so. It was that simple. But it didn't feel like it could be.

"What, so you'd just give me money for absolutely nothing? And I wouldn't owe you anything for it?"

"Yeah. That's the whole idea."

"And the money would be mine? I could use it however I want?"

"Yes."

"So I could just spend it all on weed and waste my life away smoking in my room?"

"I- I wouldn't be happy about that, but yes, you could. Just… if you start smoking again, please only do it in your room? I don't want the whole house to smell like weed."

He'd honestly expected Rolan to fold at the mention of Rand using the money for anything illegal or irresponsible, but… apparently not. Or maybe he thought Rand was bluffing and wouldn't actually do what he was saying, so he felt fine agreeing to it? He wasn't sure. Rolan could be difficult as hell to read at times.

The problem was, Rand still didn't know whether to accept the offer or not. Logically, he knew he had no reason not to. He trusted Rolan enough that he wasn't worried about it being some sort of trap, it wasn't about that, he just… he didn't want to feel like Rolan was fucking pitying him or something. He didn't want to feel like some kind of charity project, like someone who needed Rolan's help and couldn't handle himself without it.

"…how much money would it be? And how often?" Rolan seemed to hesitate, rubbing his neck awkwardly. He looked away from Rand, clearly more than a little uncomfortable, even if Rand couldn't quite figure out why.

"I… don't know. Uh, I think that's probably something we should ask Kian to help with, I'm not- you know I can't do math for shit." Oh, shit, how had he forgotten about Kian? Of course, there was such an easy fucking solution to avoid him feeling like shit about it.

"Yeah. I… look, I'm fine with the offer, okay? I just have one condition."

"Okay? What?"

"I want you to give Kian an allowance as well. So I won't… I don't know, it'll make me feel less like some charity case or whatever."

"Yeah, that's- that's fine. We're gonna have to talk about it with Kian too, but I'm down."

That wasn't going to be an easy conversation to have. Kian had always had such an issue with being given anything, even if he actually needed it, he'd probably put up a fight about things. But maybe they would be able to get him to agree with it being for Rand's sake rather than his own? He could at least hope so.

"Cool. Guess that's… that taken care of." Rolan gave him a small smile, and Rand didn't feel too weird returning it. They'd managed to have the conversation without Kian there, without yelling, without trying to attack each other, verbally or physically. It was better than they could have done as kids or teens, that was for sure. And probably better than they could have done even a couple months ago.

Maybe it was a stupid thing to feel proud of, maybe for most it would have been too small to even be worth mentioning. But at least it was something. It was some kind of progress. And that was good enough for him.