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 Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 7:36 pm
The door to the bedroom was open, a perfect three inches, so Maxim hadn’t been up since Julian closed it. The light was on, and the television, so that much was normal. Not much else was.
Upon entrance, the room smelled clean and fresh–the bedding had been recently washed, the room aired out, vacuumed, dusted–more than just straightened up, it had been dutifully tended to.
Julian’s desk? Immaculate. Spotless. You’d think no one ever used it before. The shelves? Tidy, meticulously arranged. The curtains? Recently washed, maybe even ironed.
The bed–made, but…recently rumpled. Julian usually made the bed after they woke up, before they went to school. Riker’s side was mostly made up, but the blankets were wrinkled from where Julian had recently crawled in. Not with his usual care, it seemed like he’d had to drag his body over to his side. He wasn’t even under the comforter, but the heated blanket was turned to the highest setting, and he hugged it to his chest.
His hair was tied back in a low ponytail–something usually reserved for when he was working, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, which was just as uncommon. His hands were red, mostly from scrubbing, but he had a faint chemical smell, too. He had a few scratches and bruises–nothing dark or menacing. They just looked careless.
He faced the wall, eyes open, and kept his back to the rest of the room–mostly, the closet.
Which was a mess.
The light was still on, the door opened. Boxes spilled out, some stacked and some scattered. Julian didn’t leave a job half-finished; even if he was taking a break, he straightened up enough that it wouldn’t cause any issue. He also tended to work in small sections to make sure everything was manageable. So this–
This was a lot. It wasn’t the pre-planned, carefully structured work he usually did, marked by scheduled breaks taken only after specific milestones.
It was disorganized, mildly chaotic, and while it looked like things had started under control, the most recent items had been sorted strangely. Several pairs of mismatched socks, some chapstick, and one of Maxim’s chew toys were in the box with his violin supplies, a pack of batteries was sorted with some notebooks, some hand sanitizer, and an empty pack of gum.
Another box had slid off to the side and half-spilled, and the clothes he’d been putting up were stacked on the back of his chair, moved from his desk. He usually put things away while they were warm, fresh out of the dryer, but these must have been out for a while already.
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 7:37 pm
Riker eased the bedroom door open with his shoulder, one hand still hooked through the strap of his bag. He stepped inside carefully, quiet more out of instinct than necessity, and paused once the door was open enough to let him slip through.
The room stopped him immediately.
It was too clean. Not in the normal Julian way, where everything had its place and the bed was made and the desk was tidy because that was just how Julian liked it. This was different. Too thorough. Too scrubbed down. It smelled fresh in a way that didn't feel very restful, but more like a forced reset because nothing else would work.
He glanced slowly over everything. The dustless shelves, the neat desk, the washed curtains. The bed, mostly made except for where the covers were pulled as Julian moved across them. The heated blanket turned up too high. The rolled sleeves. The tied back hair. The red hands. The chemical smell still clinging to him. Then the closet.
Riker's gaze caught there and stayed.
Julian didn't leave things like that. Not half done. Not messy with boxes spilling and things mixed together.
Something in Riker's chest tightened painfully. He still didn't know what had happened. Just enough to know people were angry, Julian was upset, and Riker had come home to a room that looked like someone had tried to erase pieces of identity if they just scrubbed hard enough. The not knowing sat heavy and sour in his stomach. If Zac was this mad, then Riker knew he should be too. He just didn't know where to put that anger yet. So it just stayed there and festered uselessly.
He set his bags down by the door as quietly as he could, then crossed the room carefully, treating it as though it wasn't currently his. It was, and he knew Julian wouldn't make him leave, but for right now, he knew he was a stranger in what felt like something new.
When he reached the bed, he stood there for a moment just looking at Julian's back. The tension in it, the way he faced the wall, the way he didn't really look asleep.
Riker's hand lifted before he thought too hard about it, and brushed his fingers lightly through Julian's hair near the base of his ponytail, gentle and familiar, just enough to check if he was awake without making him speak sooner than he wanted.
"Hey, Jules," he said softly. "It's just me."
He didn't wait for a response. Not because he didn't want one, but because Zac had already warned him enough to know not to demand anything. Riker tugged the comforter down and climbed into bed behind him, moving slowly so as not to jostle him too much. Once he was settled, he slid one arm around Julian's middle and held him, careful and close, like he was trying to say ten different things without making Julian answer any of them.
"You don't have to get up," he murmured, voice low against the quiet hum of the television. "And you don't have to say anything either. I just—..."
He stopped, because the truth was embarrassingly simple.
"I just wanna close my eyes for a minute."
It wasn't the best excuse, and Riker knew it. But he rested his forehead lightly against Julian's shoulder anyway and let himself stay there, just breathing him in beneath the smell of detergent and chemicals.
He'd be still, and quiet, and he would wait. Even if every part of him wanted to turn Julian over and look him in the face and ask what happened and what he could do for him.
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 7:38 pm
The muscles along Julian’s back rippled and he stiffened, not to recoil, but if a chill had just come upon him. His breathing grew silent, or maybe he wasn’t breathing at all, but his eyes opened.
And then, suddenly, he rolled to face Riker. “When did you get back? I was listening for you. Maxim didn’t even wake–”
The lump at the foot of the bed was the blanket, rumpled from where he’d crawled in, but Julian couldn’t remember when Maxim had left. His mouth shut and his brows furrowed. He stared like if he blinked enough, the dog would reappear, but–
Julian inhaled, a little sharp, and seemed to come back to himself quickly.
He half-rose, just to fall back to the bed as soon as he realized the weight around his waist was Riker, not the comforter–which he was still laying on top of. A few more seconds passed by before he awkwardly tried to maneuver under the comforter without pulling it from, or otherwise disrupting Riker.
“I’m sorry, you can close your eyes. I meant to ask–how was your trip?” He opened his mouth to say more but had to blink again quickly. “No–sorry, I mean–no, you can rest. Sorry, I’ll stay quiet.”
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 7:38 pm
Riker immediately loosened his arm when Julian tried to awkwardly work himself under the comforter, helping to lift it enough that he could just slide underneath without getting tangled.
"Hey, no, it's okay," he said softly, already shaking his head. "You don't have to apologize."
Once Julian was under the covers, Riker tugged them up a little higher around him, making sure the heated blanket wasn't bunched up weird.
"I got back a little while ago," he said. "I took a quick shower and changed downstairs first. Had clothes with me, so I didn't have to dig through anything up here." The corner of his lip twitched lightly. "And I was being really quiet. Plus it's raining hard enough that you probably couldn't hear much anyway."
He glanced briefly toward the foot of the bed, then back to Julian. "Maxim's definitely not up here playing guard dog right now. Not when there's takeout downstairs."
He'd meant it to be light. Not enough to force a smile, but hopefully enough to ease some of the pressure.
"So it's not your fault you didn't hear me. And you don't have to stay on alert," he said softly as his hand lifted to smooth lightly at Julian's hair near his temple.
"If you want to talk, I don't have to rest my eyes," he added after a moment. "That was mostly just me trying to give you an excuse not to, if you didn't want to."
He hesitated for a moment, then admitted more quietly, "I missed you. So I'm okay with just being here, whatever that looks like. And if you're hungry, I can grab you something later. Or now. Or not at all. Whatever you want. But the trip was good. Wish the weather didn't keep us away so long. Meant I had to suffer through Elliot trying to prank me for days longer than I was prepared for," he huffed, although it was obvious there was more fondness than annoyance.
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 7:38 pm
It didn’t matter if the heated blanket was bunched up weird before, Julian hugged it into a bundle, holding it to his chest with both arms. If it was chilly, as it was now, he always shared. It just hadn’t seemed to register that the room was cool from all the rain. Riker had to mention the rain for Julian to turn his gaze to the window, and even then it took a few seconds before he nodded agreeably.
So rapt was his attention that he didn’t even see Riker’s hand by his temple until he felt it, and he stiffened briefly, immediately, and his eyes snapped to Riker.
“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I thought it was a bug. I was in the–oh, the closet.”
This time, he did sit up, propped on his elbow and peering over Riker.
“Oh–Riker, I’m so sorry, hold on. Stay here. Oh, here,” he said, and released his heated blanket. He shook it out before draping it over Riker, and then crawled over the edge of the bed. Julian made it two steps to the closet before he spun on his heels and smoothed out the blanket, and then hurried to the closet.
“I just need a minute. It was supposed to be clean. I don’t know what happened, I just lost track of time. I can fix this,” he said, scooping up boxes and trying to stack them neater. He frowned as he looked into the open boxes, perplexed by the mismatched contents, but it was more important to make it look good, not make it right.
“Sorry–so you were saying…Oh, Elliot. Oh–” he paused abruptly, then looked between Riker and the desk, and then Riker, and–
He couldn’t make up his mind.
“Oh, Riker, I’m so sorry. I was supposed to–I didn’t–I bet you already told me this, I need to–I misplaced my phone, I just–oh, maybe it’s in here.”
He looked into the closet, and then shook his head. “Well, I’ll find it later. I’m sorry, I should have texted. I missed you, too. I’m not hungry, I just ate a little while ago.”
Arms full of boxes, Julian quickly began to neatly stack them in the closet–not where they had been, and not where they were supposed to be, but out of the way.
“You said Elliot was trying to prank you–did he? And–oh, your game. I’d really like to hear more, please.”
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 7:38 pm
It didn't take long for Riker to slide out of bed, the heated blanket carefully pushed aside. He didn't move fast enough to startle him, but quick enough that Julian wouldn't be left alone with the mess for more than a few seconds of frantic rambling and panic cleaning.
"Jules—hey," he said softly, but more firmly than before. It wasn't sharp, but it was enough to give Julian something to catch onto besides the closet.
He stopped just behind him and let Julian stack one more box before reaching out and carefully taking the top one from his arms. He set it on the chair instead of back into the closest, where it would only wind up crooked and wrong and feed whatever this was.
"You don't have to fix it right now," Riker said quietly. "Not for me."
He glanced over the mixed-up contents, the half-finished sorting, the boxes that looked like they'd been torn through instead of carefully packed. His chest tightened again, but he forced that down. This wasn't the moment for anger. Not at Julian. And not in front of him.
"And I didn't already tell you anything," he added, gentler now, answering the apology that felt like it was part of whatever need for cleanup Julian was trapped in. "You didn't miss anything. I literally just got here. And the signal was too bad for me to send anything good, anyway."
The last bit wasn't exactly true, but he had stopped sending more than messages for Julian to have a good night after Zac told them he'd been resting.
Riker stepped a little closer, enough to block some of Julian's line of sight into the closet without cornering him.
"It's fine for one night. I promise it's not going to offend me. And Elliot's prank was stupid," he continued with a huff, because Julian had offered him the opening and Riker was taking it. "He stole half my fries, swapped my sports drink with one of those gross zero sugar ones, and tried to convince me Coach said we had to start saying 'teamwork makes the dream work' before every game." He made a face. "So obviously I suffered."
While he talked, he reached for Julian's wrist lightly. It wasn't to restrain him, just to interrupt the frantic cycle of reaching and sorting and apologizing.
"You can hear all of it," he promised. "The trip, the game, the videos Evan took. All of it. I'll even show you the one where Elliot almost got hit in the head with a duffel bag because he wouldn't stop being annoying."
His voice softened again. "But not while you're doing this." He paused, and then added quieter and more honest, "I don't need the room perfect. I need you to sit down for a second." He glanced at the bed, and then back at Julian.
"We can deal with the closet tomorrow. Or later. Or I can help now if you really need to do this, but you've gotta stop trying to do it all at once," he said, his hand tightening just slightly on Julian's wrist. Enough to be grounding but not trapping him. "Pick one thing. Sit with me, or tell me what box goes where. But you don't get to apologize your way through a whole breakdown while I stand here and pretend not to notice."
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 7:38 pm
Julian listened. Intently.
At first, he could meet Riker’s gaze. At first, he was able to open his mouth. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t make the words, but he could try.
That stopped.
His eyes dropped to the boxes in his arms–what was left of them–and his head hung.
Riker made it sound so easy. Julian wanted it to be that easy.
The box in his arms felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, but the idea of putting it down felt like it weighed so much more.
So he stood there awkwardly. His shoulders tucked inwards, of their own accord.
Seconds passed, long and uncomfortable.
Then, Julian nodded.
He set the boxes down on the floor, not anywhere close to where they should be, but Riker wanted him to stop, so he stopped. He left the four remaining boxes where they were, just outside of the door. He didn’t touch the clothes-covered chair.
A whole breakdown.
His hands were empty. He didn’t know what to do with them. Twice, he took one hand into the other, but then dropped each to his side. Something clicked, finally.
Sit down for a second.
Stop.
Sit.
Julian moved, not quickly, and not comfortably. Just automatically.
He sat down on the edge of the bed. It was Riker’s side, but he wasn’t really thinking about that. He laced his fingers together and rested them on his knees, but he didn’t seem to know what more to do with himself so he just sat quietly.
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 7:38 pm
The moment Julian actually stopped, a wave of relief rushed over Riker.
But it was twisted up with something just as overwhelming.
Because Julian hadn't stopped in a way that seemed like it was his choice. He'd stopped like he'd been told to. It was as if all that frantic motion had just… been unplugged at the source, leaving him standing there with nowhere for the energy to go. And when he sat, quiet and automatic, something in Riker's chest twisted painfully.
That wasn't what he wanted.
He hadn't wanted to corner Julian into obedience. He'd wanted to help. To take some of the pressure away. But instead, Julian looked so beaten down that Riker felt guilty all over again, like maybe he'd just added himself to the list of things Julian had to manage. Just one more box for him to try and keep organized and contained.
So he didn't say anything else right away. He just quietly moved the box he'd set on the chair a little farther out of the way so it wouldn't fall, and then crossed back over to the bed. He sat down beside Julian, careful not to crowd him, and not close enough that their shoulders touched unless Julian chose it. His hands rested loosely in his lap.
Everything in him wanted to reach out. To wrap an arm around Julian's shoulders, pull him close, press his face into his hair and hold him there until whatever was happening inside him stopped hurting so much. But Riker wasn't oblivious. He'd felt the way Julian had startled at a light touch. Seen the way Julian had tensed and held his breath.
So he stayed still and quiet. He let the television keep humming quietly in the background, listened to the rain as it pattered softly against the window and roof, let Julian have silence without contaminating it with more questions or apologies. Riker just sat there beside him, trying to make his presence there feel more like safety instead of pressure.
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 7:39 pm
A moment passed. Five. Ten.
Julian didn’t relax immediately.
For all of it, he sat almost perfectly still, not by force, but instinct. Everything movement was carefully conditioned, intricately coordinated.
Each breath was exactly the same as the last, silent and shallow.
He didn’t seem bothered. Just–
Gone. Deeply lost in thought. Or maybe without a thought at all.
He stared at his hands–through his hands.
Thunder struck loudly but he didn’t so much as startle. It was like he hadn’t heard it at all.
Julian was tired.
Slowly, as the minutes ticked on, his shoulders relaxed. The tension left.
The rain was coming down harder now, beating against the window like tiny pebbles. The television was too quiet to hear over the noise, but not enough to be disruptive.
Somewhere around the twelve minute mark, Julian exhaled–long, heavy. He blinked a few times, like it was only now that he realized how dry his eyes were.
For the first time, he saw his hands. Chipped nails, scratched, red. He rubbed them together slowly before tugging his sleeves down to his wrists.
He didn’t look up, didn’t speak.
He didn’t know what to say, and Riker didn’t want to hear sorry.
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 7:39 pm
Riker stayed where he was and let the silence continue. He didn't try to fill it or try to pull Julian back from wherever he was with words just because the quiet made him restless.
Because it did.
It sat uncomfortably in his chest. Anger with nowhere to go. Zac had been angry enough that Riker knew he should be, too. Protective enough that Riker felt it in his own bones. But he didn't know the details, only the damage that was left behind. It made him feel useless in a way he hated, like he'd been handed the aftermath of a fire and told not to ask what had burned.
So he sat there in the middle of everything, caught between wanting to tear apart whatever had done this to Julian and wanting to be so calm that Julian didn't have to flinch away from a single thing from him.
He hated the limbo of it. Hated not knowing what he was supposed to fight.
But Julian's shoulders slowly loosened beside him, and Riker made himself stay still. When Julian finally moved his hands, when he seemed to come back enough to actually see them, Riker's gaze lowered too. The red skin, the scratches, the sleeves gently tugged down as if that could hide anything. He didn't say anything about them, although his jaw tightened for a moment.
After a moment, he spoke, his voice low and even enough that he hoped it wouldn't startle Julian.
"You don't have to figure out what to say," he murmured, his eyes still on Julian's hands instead of lifted to his face. "I'm okay just sitting here. I'm not going anywhere."
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 7:40 pm
Was he okay just sitting here? Julian didn’t let himself think too deeply about it, because the longer he let the thoughts percolate, the more rancid they became. It would have been easier to just let them all float away, but Julian couldn’t risk losing something important.
He couldn’t risk saying–doing–the wrong thing.
So he had to stay here. Had to figure it out.
He didn’t want to mess this up. Again.
The changes in him were small, but they added up.
His breathing was a little quicker, a little deeper. He swallowed. He blinked. He sat straighter, then slouched.
Everything felt wrong again. His skin was too hot, too cold, too tight, too thin.
Riker must have hated this. Did he ever sit so still? He looked so uncomfortable.
Julian could make out parts of him in his peripheral, not all of him. He didn’t dare to actually look, so his brain just filled in the gaps. It felt wrong.
All of this felt wrong.
But he didn’t know what right was supposed to feel like, so he was willing to cram himself into any shape, stuff himself into any box, if things would just make sense.
He didn’t want to drag Riker down with him. And that’s what this was, wasn’t it? He was sinking, and Riker was–
Sitting with him. Sinking with him? Offering a hand, but Julian didn’t know how to take it.
He didn’t have to figure out what to say but he couldn’t just say nothing forever.
…Could he?
He could.
If he didn’t say anything, he couldn’t say the wrong thing. That felt safe.
Maybe that was better. And it wasn’t any great loss, was it?
What had he ever said that was important? Or good? Every time he opened his mouth–every text he sent, every letter he wrote, no wonder it felt so difficult to find the right words. They weren’t the right words. They were wrong, always wrong. Even now–
No, that’s not what Riker wanted. That’s not what he was saying.
Julian deflated.
Whatever strings he’d been grasping at fell through his fingers, leaving him empty and without direction, again.
There were a dozen things Riker could be doing instead of just sitting here. Quietly. Hadn’t he just been on a bus? That was a lot of sitting.
He’d said–
Something, what was it–oh. He wanted to lay down.
…Had he meant that?
Was that today? Was that–
His head hurt. Maybe it had been hurting, but Julian only just felt it. His heart beat was rapid in his throat, in his temple, and he could feel each pulse of blood. Could hear it, too. Or–maybe that was the rain?
…No, that was him. So loud, so noisy. Could Riker hear it? How obnoxious. Riker probably just wanted to relax. He’d been gone for so long, he probably wanted to take it easy and enjoy being home. How was anyone supposed to relax with all that noise?
Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.
If it would just stop, if it could go back to being quiet–if he sat still enough, if he was small enough–
Riker wouldn’t have gone anywhere anyway. He wasn’t looking like Julian like he was a problem. But Julian didn’t know what to make of it, anyway.
He was trying. Trying.
But he was doing it wrong. He did everything wrong.
The weight of it all was so suffocating.
He didn't know what to do, didn’t know what to say.
How long could Riker sit here? How long before he got tired of it? How long did Riker have to suffer just because Julian couldn’t figure this out?
He was supposed to be better. He was supposed to handle this. He was supposed to–
To what?
What was he supposed to do?
He wasn’t sure how long had passed, but he finally reached up his hands to rub at his face, just to make sure it was still there. He pushed, hard, but he felt it, and then he just planted his elbows on his thighs and hid his face in his hands.
“I’m sorry.” Tired. Heavy. Slow.
An apology given even when he knew it wouldn’t do anything. He meant it, though.
Muffled through his hands, voice heavy with guilt and spoken as a confession, he spoke again a moment later.
“...I keep messing things up. I don’t know what to do.”
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 7:40 pm
"Jules," he said softly when Julian apologized again. He turned a little more toward him, but still careful not to crowd him, his hands visible in his lap where Julian could see them.
"You're not messing things up," he said quietly, but firmly. He wanted to make sure Julian heard that before anything else. "I know you think you are, but you're not. And not knowing what to do doesn't mean you're doing something wrong. It just means you don't know what to do yet. Those aren't the same thing."
His voice was soft as he spoke, but there was no less certainty in it. He glanced down at Julian's hands then, at how he covered his face, and Riker's chest ached so hard that he nearly reached for him anyway. He didn't.
"You don't have to figure it out all at once," he promised. "You don't have to fix the room, or explain everything, or make yourself feel better on command. I'm not asking you for any of that. I just want to know what you need from me right now. And if you don't know, that's okay too. I can stay here. I can help if you want help. I can be quiet if that's better. You're allowed to have a hard time without it meaning you failed at something."
Because he knew how hard Julian was on himself. And Riker was still struggling with not knowing what exactly happened to trigger all of this.
"You're still Jules. You're still you. Nothing will change that for me."
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 7:40 pm
Riker’s reassurance was appreciated, but misplaced. He didn’t know the truth, he didn’t know how much Julian had messed up. Would he have said those things if Julian hadn’t been lying to him? It was going to come out, one way or another.
Had Zac told him, too? –Did their friends know?
Why did it feel like they knew?
Everyone knew something. Sometimes he caught it, in the way their gazes lingered on him when he said something just slightly not right. Or when he fumbled something that should have been simple. When he squirmed over basic, normal expectations.
Julian was normal too, right? Right?
…Right?
A gap spread between his middle and ring finger, spread just enough that one eye could land on the second drawer of his desk.
No, not normal. Built wrong, or made wrong, or just born wrong.
It wasn’t fair to keep misleading Riker like this.
Riker was always looking after him. After everyone. He cared so much about doing the right thing, about keeping people safe. He cared so much that he’d gone blind to the rot festering within Julian, oblivious to the way it would spread from him, to Riker, to everyone.
It was only a matter of time, wasn’t it?
He ruined everything. How long before he ruined this, too?
How cowardly it was, to even think he could pretend that everything was fine. That he could just lock everything up in a drawer and act like that meant it was safe and confined. How stupid, to think that if he couldn’t see it, he didn’t have to think about it.
That it would just go away.
Riker had spoken, and Julian listened. Or, tried to. Put every ounce of energy into paying attention.
It was a fight, and one he was losing. His mind wanted to be away from here, and Julian didn’t have the strength to force it back.
So he got bits and pieces of it. Half a mind was better than no mind at all, but he wasn’t sure if he got the better part or the worse. It all felt the same.
You don’t have to figure it all out at once.
But then, when? How long was he supposed to exist in this limbo, how long could he let this black hole grow inside of him. What would it take to fill it? Who would have to get sucked in to stop it?
You don’t have to fix the room…
But he couldn’t fix anything else. He just wanted to fix something.
You don’t have to explain everything.
But he did, he did, he didn’t mean for this to be a problem, he didn’t know. He didn’t mean to be bad, he didn’t mean to hurt anyone–
Julian’s lip twitched, like he might have said something, but his hands hadn’t moved and his gaze was stuck on the desk. The ceiling felt like it was coming down slowly, like it was going to press downwards on him. Into the bed, into the floor, into dust. He wanted to tell Riker to run, but he couldn’t remember how to speak.
–You failed–
Yes, yes! He knew that! Finally, someone understood. Someone saw it in him. He didn’t know if he felt relieved or exposed. It all felt the same. Cold, empty, distant. His muscles were tight and he started trembling. He moved so much without moving at all.
You failed.
But that wasn’t Riker’s voice. It hadn’t been the first time, either. Riker said–what did he say?
He was allowed–allowed what? Oh–
You're allowed to have a hard time without it meaning you failed.
…Did Riker say that? Or did Julian imagine it? What was–
Was Riker even here right now?
Julian’s head turned slightly to the left, and for a few seconds he looked at Riker. He blinked, still hidden behind his hands. His vision was blurry, so he covered his face completely.
His foot inched closer to Riker’s, slowly, awkwardly. Uncoordinated. Their ankles knocked together.
Real.
Okay. Riker was real.
…Was Julian?
Who was Julian? ‘You’re still you’–who?
Thunder rolled. Julian heard it this time. He counted out the seconds as it rumbled–five, six, seven.
He counted to ten, even though the noise stopped.
He counted to twenty, just to see if he could.
Maybe he could have counted to thirty, but he was so focused on numbers that he forgot to breathe, and stopped so he could force himself to draw in a rattly breath.
When he managed to find his voice, it was wrong. Tight, croaky. Wet.
He had to force it out of his throat. Every cell in his body told him to stay still, stay quiet.
But this was Riker. Riker deserved better. Riker deserved something.
So Julian gave him all that he could.
“I’m not trying to be difficult. I just–”
Just what? Just tell him! Just tell him–
Wait, what? Tell him what? Oh, come on. Come on, his thoughts were right there–
“I’m just having a hard time. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do. I just want to fix everything.”
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Posted: Tue Apr 28, 2026 7:40 pm
Riker stayed still when Julian's ankle knocked against his. He didn't pull away. He just let his foot stay there, because it felt as though the contact was more important than he could put into words.
He noticed the way Julian kept glancing toward the desk, and the close. The way his attention seemed to catch onto certain things and then slip to something else. Riker didn't know what any of it meant, but he knew it meant something, and that Julian looked like he was trying to hold too much in his head at once.
So… Riker listened. And when Julian finally got the words out, Riker's expression softened immediately.
"You're not being difficult," he said quietly. "And you don't have to apologize for having a hard time."
He glanced over at the mess by the closet, and then back to Julian.
"And if fixing things feels important right now, then okay," he agreed. "We can do that. But I need you to know I'm not looking around this room thinking you're the problem."
He shifted a little more toward him, although still careful not to crowd or reach out when Julian had already been so jumpy about touch.
"I just see that you've had a rough week," Riker said softly. "And that this got a bit more out of control than you meant it to. So if you want to fix something, let's just pick one thing. Not all of it. Just one."
Because he wanted to make sure Julian had control of something without letting it get away from him again.
"You can tell me where to start," he offered. "The boxes, the closet, the desk, wherever you want. I'll help. Or I can stay out of the way and let you tell me what goes where. And if you change your mind in five minutes and don't want to do any of it, then that's okay too. Just tell me what feels more reasonable right now, even if it's something small."
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