“Not… necessarily,” he mumbled, finding the question just a bit odd. Padlock never really wanted to share anything. He didn’t even know what Phantom had in mind.
“And, it’s alright, Phan,” he continued, unable to keep from laughing. “You don’t have to go out of your way to accommodate me. I’m really okay with anything, I don’t think you understand. I live in a 5 by 5 room and you’re worrying about it not being spacious enough?”
He looked over, a smirk prominent on his face.
“Really, I’m okay. Just being here and being taken care of is enough. If not too much.”
As he blinked away his sleepiness, it was clear he was back to his usual sarcastic self. Only being tired and on medication seemed to make him all warm and fuzzy like it did a few hours prior. His face adopted a reddish tint as he thought about it. He couldn’t really remember much of what he had said previously, hoping he hadn’t let anything really important slip.
In spite of the thoughts running through his head, Solo looked relatively calm and composed, shaking his head and stretching what he could that wouldn’t hurt him. He flicked his eyes back over to Phantom, awaiting an invitation to eat. He didn’t really know how manors worked in a common household, so he just held off on everything and waited for permission.
Phantom didn't have anything in mind, really, he just wanted something to distract himself. But if Padlock didn't want to share, then that was alright. He could deal. "I know I don't have to go out of my way or anything, I just…" His cheeks went a little pink and he looked away, fiddling with the arm of the sofa. "I want you to be comfortable. That's part of taking care of you, right?" It came out a lot more sincere than he wanted it to so he shoved himself to his feet and fled to the kitchen.
The sandwich was in his hand when he returned, along with a Gatorade. Green. His favorite kind, since he didn't know what Padlock liked. "Anyways! Um… here. I know the energy drink's kind of a weird choice but I did some reading and apparently it's got electrolytes, which is good. Very hydrating too." He kind of missed the softer, sweeter Padlock, but he couldn't get too worked up about it. Not when it was all to obvious that he was only acting like that because he was tired and in pain and a bunch of other things that Val would really prefer he not be.
"Just tell me if you're still hungry after this. Like I said, I've got way too much food. And… I'm gonna get ready for bed. Just yell if you need something, I'll be back in a flash."
Padlock mulled over his words for a moment, unable to keep himself from smiling. Phantom was insane. He tried his best to help someone who he was hunting all along, and honestly, Padlock was just so euphoric that he hadn’t woken up in a prison cell. He had really been paranoid, and that was enough to make him very pleasantly surprised.
“You take too good care of me,” he said, shaking his head again. After stretching, he sat back down, wincing as he reached for the Gatorade. At least it was better than the kind he had gotten. Some kind of other expired drink, the only thing his hideout was good for.
He had the sudden feeling that he never wanted to go back. Of course that wasn’t a choice, considering he’d have to get out of here sometime, one way or another. That was a ridiculous thought. There was no way he could ever stay. That was infringing on someone’s privacy.
But that didn’t make him want to stay any less. In fact, he found himself longing for it. Being taken care of was… nice. Very nice.
He took the sandwich, tired eyes gazing over it. Phantom was right— it was cold, but that didn’t matter. He had survived on a lot less.
He waved off to Phantom as the man dissappeared, finishing the sandwich in only a few minutes. Considering he was used to smaller rations, the thing had filled him up tons, including the Gatorade. It had been a long time since he felt like this.
Finally, for once in his life, he was full, comfortable (not counting his hands or shoulders), content, and… feeling something else he didn’t know. Butterflies? If that’s what it was called. But it happened every time Phantom showed up. Padlock couldn’t say he minded that.
Val rolled his eyes as he slipped into the other room. "There's no such thing as taking too good care of you!" He called, stripping out of day clothes. Picking out pajamas took a bit too long, he could admit, but he wanted to look cute. Padlock only ever saw him in his costume, which was a pair of plain black pants and a white shirt. They were serviceable of course, made so he could fade in and out without leaving his clothes behind, but they were far from cute.
He pulled his hair out of its ponytail with a soft sigh, combing through it with his fingers as he rifled through his pajama drawer for the third time. Eventually he just gave in and yanked on an over sized white shirt and some shorts with little foxes printed across them. A little childish, but they were soft and way more comfortable than pants.
And speaking of pants… "Oh! You need some sleep stuff, right?" He poked his head out the door, giving Padlock a curious look. "Can't be all that cozy to sleep in those old slacks, come in here and let me get you something more comfortable! I'm pretty sure one of my exes left his shit over here and he was about your size, should work well enough, don't you think?"
Padlock raised an eyebrow, closing his eyes and letting out a short breathy laugh.
“Sure, yeah, I’ll come see,” he called back. “Just a moment.”
He took a minute, just looking out the window, elbows propped on his knees and his head resting atop his knuckles. He closed his eyes, still feeling the effects of the pills, let only slightly. He procrastinated getting up, not wanting to move his shoulders any more than he had to.
Padlock was still debating on staying or not. His plan before had been ‘sneak out when Phantom falls asleep, go back’ situation, but it didn’t seem so inviting anymore. Especially because Phantom had earned… a lot more trust, if not regained the majority of it.
Padlock had been hurt. Asleep. Vulnerable, and Phantom hadn’t done anything to pressure motives, or get him in trouble. It was refreshing, considering their history. Padlock hadn’t expected it at all, and that was enough to keep him smiling. He didn’t know why he was this giddy— usually making his heart skip was harder than this— but it seemed Phantom had really no trouble at all when it came to doing that.
With that, he awkwardly pushed himself up, glancing from the wraps around his hands to the room, then back to the window as he walked. He soon stationed himself in the doorway, leaning his back against the frame.
“You look adorable,” he said plainly, voice tinted with humor. Though, he couldn’t even tell if he was joking or not.
Val smiled and left the door open as he wandered back to the drawers. Honestly, he was surprised that Padlock had stuck around this long. He'd been so sure that he'd come back from the grocery store and find the couch empty, but he hadn't. He'd expected to come back from changing and see the window open and his house empty again, but he hadn't. Padlock was here and there was something so unreal about it because their whole relationship was based on an antagonism he liked to pretend was much more friendly than it actually was.
Seeing him in the doorway was enough to give Val a minor heart attack because he looked… good. Chest bare, hair mussed, it was all so close to something he'd thought about hundreds of times. It didn't feel like too much of a stretch to think that they might be here for some other reason. That Val might be able to walk over and drape his arms around Padlock's chest and kiss him.
The words almost didn't register and he flushed when they did, forcibly tearing himself from his day dreams. His fingers fiddled with the hem. There was a pleased little smile on his lips. "You think so?" His voice came out a little too sincere and sure, it wasn't like fishing for compliments was uncommon, but he didn't have to be so damn transparent about it. "I really like them. I know they're a little young, but…" he shrugged, biting his lip. "… y'know, they're cutesy. I like feeling cutesy."
Too much! That was definitely too much, time to abort. "But! Anyways!! Let's get you something comfortable!" He dug through his drawers, all his attention on the clothes because if he looked at Padlock and saw him frowning or worse, smirking, he was going to spontaneously combust. And that was strange, wasn't it? How flustered he seemed to be around Padlock nowadays. Maybe it was all the trust the villain was putting on him, it made every action feel so much more important. "I don't think I have any boxers, but I might have pants and I definitely have shirts."
Padlock watched absently, his mind seemingly elsewhere. He was taking account of all possible exits in the room— the windows, how easily the door opened, where to run to afterward…
Not because he needed to know. It was just a habit. He knew he’d have trouble escaping this place if the situation presented itself. Hell, he couldn’t even turn a door handle. Granted, that probably wouldn’t stop him from trying, though.
He snapped his mind back to the present, face regaining its red hue as he realized he was staring, that stupid content smile still plastered to his face. He shook it aside, clearing his throat and adjusting the bandages around his hands.
“Really, whatever you’re offering,” he replied, a little too quickly. He held his hands partially around himself, suddenly very aware of his bare torso. He had never liked showing off his past. No matter how hard he worked himself, his body wasn’t for show. It was for actual utility, so he could achieve things like, say, jumping from a building. Just an example.
Paddy kept his station on the frame of the door, only standing up when Phantom addressed him. He took a few steps forward, uncrossing his arms due to the inherent and simply annoying aching, and stopping just short of the other man.
“I can really sleep in anything,” he said, voice lower now that he was closer. He then gave a small smile, still surprised by how committed to his comfort Phantom was. “And anywhere. With anything. I have no clue what I have to do to make you believe me. You don’t have to be so concerned.”
The room had two windows, each one on the left side of the room. They were unlocked, cracked open to let the faint breeze inside. Unlike the rest of his house, his room was messy. There were papers scattered across the desk, knick knacks littering the top of his dresser, and so many books crammed onto the single small shelf he'd bought that it looked in danger of bursting. The wall behind the dresser was devoted to pictures, some art prints, some photos of friends or family, and a few that looked like they'd been done when he was a child.
Valentine smiled back at him as he stepped inside, rolling his eyes a bit as he waved Padlock over to the bed. "Hush, it's not like it's any trouble for me. And anyways, I've got every right to be concerned about you. You dislocated both your shoulders and shredded your palms to little bits, that's perfect grounds for fussing over somebody." He pulled out a shirt, then two, then three, eyeing them over before he tossed them at Padlock. "Those should work for now, might be a little big but hey, that'll just cover more. We can find something better tomorrow." If he even decided to stay the night.
Strangely, it wasn't the possibility of Padlock creeping around his apartment at night that made him antsy. It was the possibility that Padlock might toss himself out a window again and hurt himself trying to escape. "Just so you know, I'm a pretty deep sleeper! So… um… if you need anything in the middle of the night, you can just walk around, shouldn't be loud enough to wake me up."
A pair of pants got tossed Padlock's way, then some basketball shorts. "And the security's shit anyways! Y'know…" he turned back to Padlock, hoping he wasn't being too obvious. "If a burglar managed to break in here, he could just walk back down the stairs and out the door. Easy as pie."
Padlock eyed all of the shirts carefully, but they all looked relatively the same for him. he couldn’t say he wasn’t happy that he was finally getting to cover up the majority of his scars, even though it didn’t stop at his arms. Sure, they were spaced, but they were also pretty much everywhere.
“Good to know,” he replied jokingly. “Say goodbye to your TV, if that’s the case.”
His voice sounded anything but sincere. In truth, Solo actually tried to steer clear of doing illegal things. It’s why he lived off of whatever he could find, not whatever he could steal. Mainly his comments about thievery were complete jokes.
The only ‘bad’ thing he had done was… well… try to infiltrate the government. That was labeled as intrusion and ‘surprisingly’ very illegal.
That was pretty much all he’d done, besides convincing everyone he knew that he was dead. As far as he knew, that wasn’t a crime. Or maybe it was, but he’d never considered that much.
As Phantom spoke, he sort got got the notion that the man didn’t want him around. In telling him how deep of a sleeper he was, and how the security was garbage, was he inherently trying to make the thought of leaving sound easy and appealing? He didn’t want him gone, did he?
Solo looked down to the shirts again, grabbing one and tugging it on. He was right, it was slightly big, but that didn’t matter. He then grabbed the shorts, figuring they’d be the easiest to move in. He held them up slightly, as if to ask where he should go to change into them. Really, he didn’t care much for personal privacy, considering his boxers were technically shorts already. He just wanted to possibly spare Phantom the potential embarrassment, and the sight of even more scars.
Val laughed and he didn't want Padlock gone, but he also didn't want him doing something stupid and getting even more busted up. "Yeah, yeah, I'm sure. It's just… y'know, since you're gonna stick around for a few days, you should know that you're the one who has to scare off any potential burglars because I'm gonna be dead to the world until the sunlight starts streaming in."
He didn't seem to get what Padlock was asking for a few seconds but he just kind of turned around once he did, fiddling with the little baubles on his desk and desperately trying to keep his eyes from flickering around the room. "Yeah, you get going." He waved a hand behind his back, a sort of 'go on' gesture. It might've been better to go out into the living room, but doing that would've felt so awkward. And he'd probably end up picking apart his apartment the way he always did when something didn't quite sit right with him.
"We… um… we're gonna be living together for a little while, yeah?" He didn't quite manage the easy breezy tone he usually adopted. "Cause I don't know how long you're planning on sticking around, but I'd really like it if you could stay. Even if it's just for a few days, so you can get all healed up."
Padlock raised an eyebrow, frozen. He hadn’t expected that blunt of an answer to his very much internal question.
“I don’t have to stay,” he began, even though his heart was pleading him not to go on. “But I don’t think you’ll be letting me leave anytime soon, especially now that you’ve seen my sorry excuse for both a house and first aid kit.”
He stopped for a moment, holding out a hand defensively, even though Phantom was turned.
“I mean, that’s not saying I don’t want to, I’ll stay— just I don’t want to be imposing, or anything,” he said, digging himself deeper into an embarrassing hole. He wasn’t the kind to ramble, but somehow the subject matter just automatically influenced his nerves.
He shut his mouth, dropping his hand back to his side and taking a moment of silence before laughing. The entire situation was absolutely bonkers, but since when did Padlock not oblige to anything crazy?
With that, he kicked off his slacks, pulling on the shorts. He folded the previous pants, keeping them cradled in his arms. He flicked his head to the side to get the hair out of his eyes without having to do it manually, to no avail, so he just left the strands impede his vision.
“You’re all good, by the way,” he said, implying he was finished changing. He adjusted the shorts slightly, feeling the comfortable thin fabric cascade down to just his knees. It had been a long time since he was in anything this relatively nice.
"Oh definitely not! You're pretty much dead to the world until you get your shoulders working again, and even then it's iffy. I'm keeping you here as long as you'll let me." He laughed quietly, sweeping his hair over one shoulder so he could twist it between his fingers while he babbled. "And… y'know, I really do want you to stay. It's a little selfish, but this place is just so empty all the time and I've barely got anyone to go see so… it's nice. Having someone else here is nice, especially when that someone is you."
It took him a while to turn around, and when he did he had to bite his lip to keep from smiling like an idiot. Padlock just looked so cosy. So domestic, it was cute. "Um… all that to say, you're not imposing. At all. I like having you here, and I'd like to keep having you here for the foreseeable future, as long as you're okay with that."
He took a step forward, reaching up to brush the hair out of Padlock's eyes. They were close. Maybe too close, but he couldn't bring himself to pull away. "It's not really a secret that you're sort of special to me." His hand slid down, cupping Pad's cheek. "And… I think you know that I'd do a lot for you, if you asked. 'cause I want you to be happy and taken care of, and if that means you need to crash at my place or… or you just want a warm meal or something, then I'm happy that I can give it to you."
Padlock’s heart leapt up into his throat, and he had to swallow to keep it from leaving his body completely.
He wanted to lean in. To throw his arms around Phantom and hug him, at least. Just to be closer, to kiss him, maybe. Everything was perfect— the moon through the window haloing the man in front of him with an angelic white light.
But alas, he didn’t. He just leaned slightly forward, let his smile grow, and said, “You are so goddamn weird. I like it.”
He tried his best to act suave, letting his eyes fall for a moment before flicking them back up to meet Phantom’s. It was all in an attempt to keep himself occupied, without focusing too much on how he had just gotten an offer to live here, technically. Of course, he couldn’t, considering all of his work was back where he left it— a mile under the city and locked away, waiting to be done.
“I can’t stay here forever, though,” he continued, pulling away slightly, back to where he was before. “After all, I still have work to do, and you stil have to stop me. I hope this isn’t your way of charming me into quitting.”
Because it’s kind of working, he finished internally, but showed no unease as he gave a playful sneer.
For a second, Valentine thought Padlock might kiss him. He wanted to, that much was clear from the way he leaned in. The way his eyes lingered on Padlock's lips and his hand slid back to cup the back of his neck, to pull him in close. He saw that smile and for a second the though that maybe… "Oh." His cheeks went pink and sure, it might not've been what he wanted, but it was one of the few real compliments Padlock had given him. "Thanks! I…"
For once he couldn't think of something to say. So he listened to Padlock instead and tried not to get too sad about the fact that he'd have to leave. Because he knew that, it wasn't some new thing. This wasn't a fantasy world where he could have his way all the time, and Padlock had his job, if you could call villainy a job. "I'm not doing that, just so you know! I just like having you around, you always act like I'm so nefarious."
He pouted a bit, pulling Padlock down a until he was stooping over and they were eye to eye. It really wasn't fair that Padlock was taller than him, even if it was only by a few inches. "You're gonna hurt my feelings one of these days, you know. I'm not actually that smart, and anyways I don't need an ulterior motive to hang out with you."
For a moment, Padlock actually figured Phantom was telling the truth. Just maybe.
Still, he couldn’t be off his guard. He couldn’t give into the want to be here, the want to.. basically do everything that was running through his mind. That could, and probably would, get him locked up again, if not killed. It was a bump in the road, and Phantom was a gas pedal. If he gave in, he just might end up dead— for real, this time.
But, then again, it didn’t seem like that was the case. He had slept here, and Phantom kept his promise. After all, he was a hero. They were supposed to ‘see the good in people’ and ‘be trustworthy’ and all that junk. That made Padlock desperately want to throw caution to the wind and do what he wanted. It was clear Phantom also had some… thoughts about them… unless he was actually that good at faking it, which Padlock doubted.
Still, he kept replaying a saying in his head.
Better safe than sorry. Better safe than sorry. Better safe than—
“Fine, fine,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “I’ll stop bugging you about it then. Just know, before you ever even think of calling 911, I’ll already have been long gone. And then I’ll make sure you’ll never see me again. Not sure if that’s a threat or a relief to you.”
He smiled, clasping his hands behind his back as he allowed himself to be tugged lower.
(Sorry I was gone most of the day!)
(it's fine, glad you're back!)
Valentine nodded and pressed his forehead up against Padlock's for a seconds, unable to wipe away the stupid grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, yeah, how many times do I have to tell you that I'm not gonna call the police?" He patted Padlock on the cheek before he let him go, a little skin in his step as he ushered him over to the bed. "Just go to bed already if all you're gonna do is doubt my motives. I'll be out on the couch if you need me, but if you just get up 'cause you need water or a snack or something, you can bumble around the kitchen on your own."
The temptation to hop into bed with Padlock was strong but he resisted, shooting out the door as soon as he got his answer because he really wasn't principled enough to keep himself from crawling into bed and curling up against his side when the bed was right there.
His traitor brain kept coming back to it as he grabbed spare blankets and pillows out of the linen closet, an endless loop of thinking about things he could never have. Things that were more liable to run away in the middle of the night than kiss him or hold him or do any of the things he liked to daydream about. Still, today was a good first step towards something. Padlock was staying over, which was mind blowing all on its own.
He settled in his makeshift bed, pulling the covers high around him. "Goodnight!"
“G-Goodnight,” Padlock mumbled as Phantom left him standing there like a gaping idiot. He had been so close to doing anything that was running through his mind. He half-thanked the man for leaving, so he wouldn’t comply with something he might regret in the long run.
He watched as Phantom walked away, almost leaning into him as he broke his gaze and went for the door. He had to restating himself, still staring at the empty doorway even when Phantom had gone. Upon realizing how stupid he felt, he let out a stiffled laugh, shaking his head and sitting on the side of the mattress.
He was starting to trust the man more and more, and he didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. It made him question his goals for just a moment— perhaps this world wasn’t as broken as he thought, and didn’t need as much fixing as he had intended. Maybe it wasn’t entirely horrid, and he could actually be happy with smaller achievements…
No. He’d continue doing what he was doing. His name was Padlock, and he was going to reshape his laws how he saw fit. The injustice was to grand to ignore, so he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.
He glanced back to the cracked windows, entertaining the thought of scaling down just for a moment before shaking his head and crawling into the man’s bed. Part of him felt guilty that he wasn’t the one sleeping on the couch, but he figured he couldn’t convince Phantom to do anything otherwise.
Pad sighed, shutting his eyes as he felt his body sink into the mattress. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world, almost bringing a smile to his face.
Yes, he had a large goal. But it would have to wait. Just for now, at least.
Valentine fell asleep quickly and it turned out he might've been a tiny bit more effected by the day's events than he thought.
The dream started out pleasant. A bit vague, sure, but that was how his dreams were, all the focus on the person in front of him, nothing in the background. It was him and Padlock, together. They were talking about something, maybe flirting? It went by fast enough that he didn't really grasp it, mouth moving independent of his brain. Typical.
But then he leaned over whatever Padlock was sitting on and saw the drop. They must've been dozens of stories up and the height was dizzying and he knew, then and there, that he had to get him off. He couldn't grab Padlock no matter how hard he tried because his hands kept turning into nothing whenever he reached, and he couldn't cry out because his stupid mouth wouldn't stop moving and when he tried to walk away his body just twitched uselessly, fidgeting, until Padlock gave him some stupid little salute and pushed himself off and he screamed loud enough to shake the light fixtures.
He dropped right through the floor to join him and maybe if he was fast enough he could reach the ground first, find some way to cushion the fall, but no. No, no, stupid him for ever thinking that because when he reached the ground Padlock was already there, oozing red along the concrete, and Val couldn't even touch him. Couldn't force himself to shut the fuck up as he stared into those unblinking eyes, trapped in a body that wouldn't let him look away until he clawed his way out of the dream.
When he woke up, it was to his own voice ringing in his ears tauntingly. His throat was raw. He'd managed to get himself stuck halfway in the couch and he couldn't muster up the focus to fade again because his attention was all on the dream and Padlock's body and…. Padlock, god, what if he'd hurled himself out another window trying to escape? He was stubborn like that, bastard'd do it even though Val had been so careful to let him know that he could just walk out safely if he wanted. "Fuck, fuck, um… Pads? Padlock!?"
Solo was sitting up on the bed, arms draped around his knees and head hung low. Sleeping had been a scarce thing, his pills wearing off. He hadn’t bothered to go get more, figuring he could handle without. But the ache in his body made him question if that logic was sound. Which it wasn’t.
He was about to doze off again, still sitting upright, when he heart Phantom’s frantic voice. He sounded panicked. Did something happen? Was he okay? It was so late, why would he call?
Almost tripping over himself, Padlock leapt from the bed, stumbling through the doorway and across the room until he got to the couch. He rubbed his eyes, fumbling around for a light switch before finding something equivalent to a lamp, the thing casting just a faint light upon the room.
“What, what?!” he asked worriedly, blinking and narrowing his eyes as he tried to adjust to the sudden light. “Phantom, what’s up? What do you need? You alright?”
And then his eyes caught sight of a sunken man, basically one with the couch, and he snapped. His entire body froze. He didn’t know how powers worked— he didn’t have them. What did he do?
“Ha— Uh— What the hell are you doing?” He moved over to the side of the couch, kneeling on the floor before holding up his hands, not knowing at all what to do with them. “Wh… Are you okay? What do you need me to do?”
"I didn't mean to!" He sounded panicky, using the arm he had free to try and tug his hand out of the couch. All he got for it was a searing pain in his hand that made the room all blurry. Or maybe he was just crying. It was hard to tell, everything was happening too fast. "I just… I… I was trying to… to…" His breaths came in quick gasps and his head was all over the place and he couldn't stop seeing Padlock's body even though Padlock was right here and fine and he was acting like a fucking three year old. "I… I had a nightmare and… and you…"
What he needed to do was focus. Force in a deep breath, turn his attention inward until he could fade and pull himself out of the couch without having to rip his hand out and pluck stuffing out of his skin for days. This used to happen to him all the time when he was younger and he always got through it.
Only when he tried to focus he couldn't, because it felt like someone was smashing a hammer into his head. It was all too much, the light and the nightmare and all of Padlock's questions and the way he was stuck here and it hurt. He couldn't separate everything like he usually could, couldn't block out the things that he didn't need to be focusing on, and as a result everything was smashing together until he was completely overwhelmed, tears spilling down his cheeks as he struggled not to break down.
Padlock kind of just sat there, not sure at all what he could do. He had never figured out how Phantom’s powers worked, whatsoever. He had never understood how he even could come to know them, considering it was far too supernatural for his taste. Now, he wish he had asked about it earlier.
He knew he could phase, that much was true. He had seen it in action too many times to count. Maybe it was… internally based? Not externally activated, but more of a mental standpoint. That would make sense, considering Padlock had never heard him chanting any kind of incantations or doing any motions or drawing anything of the like, so his power must have come from within himself.
Still, in a situation like this, what could Pad do? He doubted he could just reach for his hand and yank him out— aka his intial idea.
It was time to think, here. Time to delve deeper into his own mind and think, goddamnit. Think!
He took Phantom’s hand in his own, and gently brushed his thumb over the man’s knuckles. It hurt his wrapped palms, but he was much too occupied to worry about that now.
“Val, I’m here. I’m here with you, and I’m okay,” he said as softly as he could. He had no clue what the man’s nightmare had been, but it sounded extremely far from positive on Padlock’s behalf. “I’m right here, and I’m okay. Stay with me. Just breathe, Phan. Breathe.”
Padlock had never been the best at comforting people, but he tried his absolute best now. He didn’t know what to say, or how to say it, so he just held Phantom’s stray hand against his chest, pleading to whoever upstairs that would answer.
His breath rattled in his chest as Padlock took his hand and he squeezed down hard, latching onto the touch like a lifeline. He could touch, that was good. That was better than the nightmare. And… and Padlock was here, he was in front of the light and he was talking in some sort of comforting murmur that Val didn't quite have the energy to pick out from his own racing thoughts but was still enough.
Because now, instead of five different things all crowding his attention, it was just Padlock. Just one thing, familiar enough to be soothing as he slowly drifted back. He forced himself to take a deep breath, then another, nodding weakly as he clung to Padlock. He should talk, explain what had happened, but he knew that the second he opened his mouth a stream of babble would come out and that was entirely too close to the dream for comfort right now.
He tugged at Padlock instead, grabbing his shirt to pull him down and then burying his face in the man's shoulder where it was dark and he could hear the steady sound of someone else's breathing. It helped. Having him here was the most comforting thing right now, physical proof that the dream wasn't real. It took him some time to relax, slowly gathering up the focus he needed until he could fade and pull himself out of the couch.
It wasn't a very clean job. He kept flickering in and out, different parts of his body gone at different times until he was out of the couch and he could stumble back into Padlock's arms.
Solo continued his ongoing smooth whispers, cooing softly to Phantom as he flickered.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this… downright scared. Phantom wasn’t a piece of technology he could just rewrite if it went haywire. He wasn’t just a puzzle Pad could figure out and put back together no problem. No. He was a person dabbling with some kind of superhuman abilities, and for once in Pad’s life, he didn’t know how to help.
He wasn’t one to panic. Usually his mind kept steady, him taking the full situation into account and working from there. This time was different. His mind was everywhere, his thoughts racing faster than he could reel them in.
He let himself be tugged in, wrapping his arms tightly around Phantom as the man slowly flickered back and out of phase. He couldn’t bring himself to let go. His heart was racing probably faster than he had witnessed, noticing Phantom’s shaky breaths as he cradled the man.
Solo wasn’t crying, but he figured this had been the closest he’d ever got. Which wasn’t necessarily extremely close, but he had never been this plainly worried. He was only slightly shaky, trying his absolute best to stay steady so Phantom at least had some kind of anchor.
“We’re alright,” he whispered, voice deep. “You’re out, and we’re both okay.”
Val was trembling in Padlock's arms, breaths quick and shaky. His eyes stung with tears. He didn't even know why he was crying. He'd gotten out of the couch and he was fine and Padlock was here and he had no right to fall apart like this when nothing was even wrong. His body didn't seem to be getting the message at all though, because he was sobbing now, pressing a hand over his mouth to muffle himself while he clung to Padlock.
Even though he was a mess, he was glad that Padlock was hear. He'd be a million times worse if he didn't have someone to cling to and a voice to focus on. If he weren't being held. He could feel the little shakes running through Padlock's body like this and a whole new wave of guilt swept over him because he really didn't mean to stress him out like this. He'd just woken Padlock up screaming his head off and now he was forcing the guy to comfort him even though all this ridiculousness was his fault and he should be able to take care of it on his own.
"I…. I'm s-sorry," he murmured, voice soft and scratchy. He hiccuped a little as he spoke and his breaths still wouldn't come right. His throat was all thick with tears and even though it was inconvenient he couldn't help but be grateful because at least he wouldn't start babbling. "I'm…. I'm s-so sorry, I didn't… I…"
“Don’t you dare apologize, man,” Padlock responded, although he kept his voice still soothing. “It’s okay. It’’s okay, I promise.”
His voice was oddly sincere for a person who only spoke in sarcasm— but that’s what he had been raised to do. A promise was a promise, and it was never broken. It was a way of telling the full truth and nothing but, and for some ungodly reason, Padlock still abided by that rule. He may have had not the best execution of many of his ideas, but he was honest to a mark.
He wanted to understand what happened, mostly. What could have earned this reaction, and what it had to do with him. Had he done something wrong? Damnit, he knew he should have taken the couch instead of the bed. Or was that even the issue? Phantom had stuttered something about a nightmare… and something to do with Padlock. That’s all the information he had to go off of.
Then, what did he do in said nightmare? It couldn’t have been anything bad against Phantom, like hurting him or otherwise, considering how tight Val was clinging to him now. Almost relief-like.
Then, did that mean something bad had happened to him? He was jumping to extremes, but had he.. died? If that was the case, then all of his doubt flew out the door. If that was the case, it showed just actually how much Phantom cared about him. He was telling the truth. He had been telling the truth. He wasn’t some two-faced liar that Padlock had been so wary of.
With that in mind, Padlock hugged him even tighter, one arm draped across his back and the other on the back of his head, that was buried into his own shoulder.
