When the next crack tears the room in half, his eyes shoot open, and he sees me again.
“Down stairs,” I repeat.
He nods, but as soon as he’s standing, he seizes.
Facing him, I wrap one hand around his middle and rest my other palm against his cheek. Shuffling backwards as best I can, I slowly lead him to the basement stairs, where, instead of tryingto persuade him, I pick him up and carry him down. It’s not pretty—he’s fucking huge. But it's necessary.
The basement is cooler like it always is, and once the den’s door is shut, it cuts off the worst of it. Thuds still punch at the ceiling, but they’re dull now.
I set Tek on the sofa, and when my touch leaves him, his eyes snap open like they’re screaming for me to not leave.
It hurts me to do it, but I have to. Just for a second.
Rushing to the guest room, I snatch my headphones and turn on the noise cancelling function as I run back to him. I stretch them over his hands and grab the blanket that lives on the back of the sofa. Thick, heavy, and a little scratchy, I drape it over his shoulders and tightly wrap it around his front, cocooning him. Then I’m by his side; my arms around his chest and my legs around his thighs, squeezing as tight as I can.
For several long moments we stay like that, his hands still over his ears.
Soon, his head starts to sway, like he’s trying to calm himself. I rock us both together, gentle, at the same pace as his lethargic nods.
In time, his shoulders lower and his hands slip from beneath the headphones, his head falling to rest on my arm.
“I got you,” I say into his temple. “You’re here. Not there. You’re mine. Breathe with me. In… Hold… Out…”
Tek tries, but ends up trembling, his breaths coming out in ragged huffs as he buries into my neck.
“Plastic… In my hand,” he gulps. “Metal… Through my thigh.”
I stroke his hair as best I can.
“Blood.” His chest starts convulsing as tears cascade. “She—Miri—she… Lights wouldn’t stop flashing… I couldn’t get to her… Anaise was screaming, but she… Miri… She wasn’t moving… She was…”
“I’ve got you,” I say again, unsure if he can hear me. Unsure if he even wants to.
All I can do is be here for him.
I press my hand to his heart, and hold him until the noise upstairs thins to sporadic pops before finally ending.
For at least another ten minutes I keep pressure on him. I don’t push. I don’t even breathe in a way that will disrupt him.
His face is red, the front of his shirt is wet, and his eyes are bloodshot when he finally raises his head to look at me again.
“I’m sorry.” He takes the headphones off and shifts, almost like he’s trying to cower away from me. But I won’t let him.
“Where are you going?”
His eyes dart around the room.
His chin flaps several times before anything comes out. “You must think I’m pathetic.”
“I think you’re an idiot, but you’re far from pathetic.”
Pulling his sleeve down over his hand, Tek uses it to wipe the tears from his face.
“You look cute with puffy eyes, Oppa.”
“Shut up.” He sniffles and bashfully punches my arm. “I’m sorry for lying to you.”
I tilt my head. “What did you lie about?”
