Theo nodded. "I am tired," he admitted freely. "I felt like a donkey to you and I couldn't sleep. I missed having you close and just spent the night mad at myself. Just figured sitting outside at least I wouldn't bother anyone and could still keep awake and enjoy the day. Apparently being cozy when it's cold just makes you sleepy. Who'd have known?"

He dragged himself to his feet and stretched before trundling off to his bed. "Can you do the fire again though please? You always do it best and I'm too much of a fire risk."

"Devlin," he repeated practicing how it felt on his tongue with an unconscious smile. "I can do that. Your real name just when it's us then?"

He regarded him some feeling greatly unsure on how to ask his next question. Was it better to accept the offer without question or to saddle Fletcher with another choice?

"Is that what you want? Do you want to be alone with your thoughts? Do you want company or even distraction? Do you even want to be in the same room as me right now? You do not need to stay. But you are welcome to."

"You mentioned Dev or Fletch, do you have a preference of any of them? Or against? Oh—it is Devlin with a D right? Not Tevlin with a T? I'm suddenly having flashbacks to Daw and Taw again."

Theo continued to smile back. "I love you. I love saying your name and knowing I'm allowed to."

He offered a sad half smile and nodded his head. "I'm sorry I don't know how to banish ghosts. If you figure it out though I wouldn't say no to learning."

His eyes dropped to follow Fletcher's gaze. He'd noticed the bracelet before but had honestly not paid it much mind. He had his own jewelry but there was something about the way his bodyguard looked at it now that made Theo suspect at its significance. It reminded the man of his husband. A gift perhaps? Or something that had once belonged to him? Either way it was important to Fletcher and so Theo wisely dared not ask. Nor, he resolved, would he ever ask the man to remove it for Theo's sake. 

"Anything," he uttered earnestly. Then his look of hopefulness turned to genuine, gentle joy. "My Devlin Fletcher."

Theo's smile broke out into a soft giggle as a thought struck him. "Peas in a pod. Archer and Fletcher."

"Oh, my Jack," he sighed softly in deep sympathy and concern. "No, my love. You're not hurting me. We're alright if you can forgive me and I'm not hurting you either. All I need is this. I need to know when I hurt you so that I can stop and not do it again. And I hear you. You need me to back off when you say back off like now. But, how do I make this right and fix this for you? How do I put you more at ease? Should we slow down?"

He sighed. "We're hurting men trying to survive in a world that doesn't allow much for healing. What I deserve and what you are, are the same: a good man. Being good and being broke are different things. So...instead of us saying we'll be better...maybe we can...maybe we can work on healing."

Theo allowed the other man his peace as he sat and held his book open in his lap. The words were a blur and once more he sat unreading. The difference this time though was that he wasn't staring at Fletcher but very much at the page. The book was no longer the excuse to stare but the excuse not to until the other man moved.

"I love you too," he replied immediately and without any hesitation. "We're going to be okay. We're okay. You don't have to say it again until you're ready. I know it was forced out of you and I'm sorry."

He nodded, sad but not hurt that his offer had been rejected. "Thank you for sharing your wishes," he replied instead. Theo collected a cloth square and placed it on the table beside Fletcher's chair to wipe his face with before retreating back to the other side of the fire.

"We both made mistakes and I'm sorry for my part in them. Take the time you need. I'll sit quiet and let you do what you need to."

His heart ached deeply. What kind of man had this Ven been? A sick one truly. One drowning in his own self-medication, and the thought scared Theodore because wasn't Fletcher doing the same? It was thoughts better left for later. Right now his beloved needed more of him than concern that would sound like admonishment.

"I'm sorry. Can I...may I touch you? May I provide comfort? Or do you prefer space?"

"No one's ever?" He whispered, hands reaching out to Fletcher before he realize what he was doing. He curled his fingers back into his palms and lowered his arms.

"You're right. I pushed you and I shouldn't have. I'm also sorry. And that wasn't even how I wanted to tell you that I just...I was so focused on trying to provide you with space in our life that I didn't give you any in the moment. And when I realized and we were just being angry I retreated to give you the space you wanted. I even said to you before I left that just because we were frustrated and angry I still very much meant what I said. I do feel that way for you, even now. I thought you'd come back inside calmer and we could try again and I could apologize. Or you'd need more space and take it—which is fine! 

"Instead though you came in and you silenced me in the middle of talking to you. In the middle of me telling you that I love you, you turned your back on me and walked away. Then today you won't tell me what's wrong, you yell at me I'm being childish, treat me again like I am incapable of being an adult making grown decisions, and expect me to just know and understand things you left unsaid.

"I am not trying to hurt you. But I acknowledge that I very much did. And I am very sorry, Jack. I am so sorry. I didn't mean to push your boundaries and I didn't mean to abandon you when you needed me there most. I know it's the time of year when you're not your best either. And I respect that and am staying no matter how bad it gets. But I need you to talk to me, Jack. Write to me, talk to me, sign with me, something so I can alter course in time with you. I want this to work, but I need help...it's all new to me too."

"You matter. I don't want to hurt you either. Come home," he signed back before moving to head back to his room. He made sure to maneuver his body just so to hide as he gave Fletcher's arm a reassuring squeeze in passing.

He kept his stride even paced when all he wanted was to bolt back to his room, dragged Fletcher into his arms, and hold on tight until they were both better. Instead he opened the door to his room calmly, stepped in and waited long enough for the other man to enter before closing and locking it.

He nodded his head as more of a blink than a nod before signing back. "Now or later after your shift? I'm not going to force you to do this until you're ready."

In that moment he wanted nothing more than to yank Fletcher into a hug and console him. To ask what was wrong and to comfort and support this beautiful man that he loved. But, outside of the safety of their rooms they had to remain locked in place forever kept at arm's length as if they were not too men deeply in love with each other in defiance of all that was deemed right and good in the world. 

He nodded quietly. So it wasn't excessive drunkenness. Fletcher just was intentionally behaving this way. He was in control of himself. He wanted to lash out and punish Theo. And somehow that hurt more than it being carelessness. 

Theo nodded again, looking out at the trees. He wanted to run. He couldn't physically outrun Fletcher, sure. But he could outride him. He could get down to the stable, saddle up and take off before the other man could keep up.

Why? Why was he running from the man he loved? Why was he so desperate to escape that he couldn't try once more to salvage what this was? Did Fletcher even want to? Was that what it was? That Fletcher seemed so wholly against meeting Theo in the middle or talking to him that Theo despite having finally professed those three little words wanted to just give up and bolt?

He hated himself and had to tilt his head and swallow strongly to force back another wave of tears. He couldn't run from Elijah. He could run from his father. Here was a man that treated him on most days far better than either ever had. But from this one he wanted to run. Or was it himself?

Theo turned to face Fletcher and spoke very quietly. "You're hurting me," he began. "You're punishing me and lashing out at me with coldness over something I don't know I've done. Yesterday I told you something in complete confidence that was very important to me and you shared it back. And now this.

"I'm not your father and I'm not Ven. I'm Theo and this isn't fair to me. I don't want to be fighting with you like this all the time. But, I need you to communicate with me. You yell at me that I don't listen, but you don't talk. I don't know what he was, but I'm not a mind reader. I only know what you tell me.

"You don't want to talk this out right now, that's fine. But communication needs to consistently happen at some point for both our sakes if you want this. Because I do. I very much do. But, I'm not going to endure this cycle every other night if you're not going to talk to me when there's a problem.

"I'm not trying to get you fired. I'm not trying to get you in trouble. And I'm certainly not trying to hurt you. But, this is me telling you that you're hurting me and I need it to stop. Please."

The tears hit him like a great, big rogue wave. No sooner had the door shut than a soft, pained whine escaped him and the waterfalls began. He bit his lips hard to try and stifle the sound though, already too afraid of being accused of further dramatics and childish attention-seeking antics.

His heart hurt. He was absolutely overwhelmed by lack of sleep, confusion, frustration, betrayal, and heart sickness. He still didn't know what he had done, last night or more specifically in that moment to warrant this. And Fletcher wouldn't tell him. He got yelled at plenty for not believing Fletcher or listening to him. But how could he listen to a man that didn't speak to him or tell him what he needed, wanted, felt?

Theo's eyes darted about the room, desperate for something to ground or distract him. Nothing. This room that had been his sanctuary from the world was now a prison. The chair where Fletcher sat. The balcony where he smoked. The bed where he slept. The room next door that was his. The bathroom where he had bathed Theo.

He needed to leave. He wanted to run, to flee, to get as far away as possible only to make another pained sound knowing the one he wanted to run from, the one he wanted to run to was stood just on the other side of his door. There was no escape. For Theodore Archer, there never would be. 

Still, he darted into his bathroom and got cleaned up and changed. Then, it was out into the hall. His eyes slid over Fletcher, still wet with tears before he looked away and wordlessly made his way through the house. There was no clear destination, just aimless wandering the mostly unused section of the house that was his. At one point he stopped before a window opening that overlooked the small forest he and Fletcher had once fled into on their night of revelry all those months ago. It seemed like an eternity since then.

"How much have you had to drink today," he asked quietly, turning his head just enough to see if the other man would respond to him.

"I'm sorry what? Bizarre stuff I pulled? I'm sorry expressing my feelings and giving you the space you wanted in the first place is so damn horrible for you. I'm not the one that intentionally silenced me and shut me down though so maybe look in the mirror before accusing me of things.

"And that's another thing. You want to talk dramatics? Who is the dramatic one: the one that was sat peacefully on their own bedroom balcony for the day, or the one that aggressively dragged them off it so violently that my bones hurt from how loud it was? You feel good about yourself now? You showed me who's the bigger man? I don't know what I did to deserve this treatment this time but I certainly didn't something so horrible as to have you treat me the way you did last night. You know better than to do that."

Theo shook his head again looking utterly betrayed and hurt. He pursed his lips and attempted to take another resetting breath. "Are you going to talk to me and tell me what this is all about or are you going to play games with me and leave me guessing until we're both too miserable to manage?"

He scowled and stared as if expecting Fletcher to continue. But when he did speak it was in short, clipped words. 

"And how was I hurting myself by SITTING OUTSIDE? Am I so incapable of caring for myself that I now warrant dragging about like an unruly toddler having a tantrum in the middle of the street? I must now what? Be protected from myself?"

Theo took a deep breath and attempted to calm himself. "I have not slept all night and that was the first sleep I'd gotten since the night before last, which was itself in turn limited, as was the night before it as well."

He sighed and shook his head sounding utterly exhausted and with no fight left in him. "I can't do this with you right now. I'm...I hate fighting with you. I don't even understand how we got here AGAIN. I'm just so tired."

He disentangled himself from his blankets with a huff and looked over to glare at his partner. So the man was not going to speak to him but was going to sit and sulk in his presence. Fantastic. 

"Is there a legitimate reason you woke me up and dragged me inside like that? Are we actually under attack? Or are you just continuing shutting me down and shutting me out like yesterday?"

Theo had fallen asleep in the afternoon sun with his legs thrown over one arm of the chair and his back curled up against the other. He didn't realize Fletcher was even on shift let alone on the balcony until he was suddenly and rudely awakened by his equilibrium being thrown off by the chair tipping backwards and the vibrations of it being harshly dragged back inside.

He squealed and flailed violently in surprise before looking up at Fletcher in wide-eyed alarm and horror. The blanket tangled around him making it impossible to just jump up and away but his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Upon recognizing his nap-disturber, he settled and dropped his gaze, refusing to look at the other man. Two of them could play the ending communication game if they wanted. 

And there was the rejection. It was such a familiar pain and thing to have someone just close communication on Theo. People turned away, they walked away, they covered their mouths, or stood where he couldn't see. Most wouldn't even learn sign for him and instead forced him to struggle on a daily basis. But, Fletcher, who knew how important this was to Theo had turned his back and walked away from him mid-sentence.

He considered saying his words aloud but given that his lover's actions had been deliberately silencing, he decided against pushing the matter. Fletcher needed space and Theo would give it to him. He tried desperately too to not give into anxiety and despair, to not think the worst and that this was a sign that the other man was done with him. It was difficult but he held onto his promise not to and allowed his trust in Fletcher to overpower his own worry.

Theo still dragged himself out of bed and mindful of the fact that Fletcher would hear him if he paced or muttered, moved himself instead back out to the balcony. It still lingered with the smell of smoke and for a moment he looked to Fletcher's window to see if more came from his room. But it was vacant. With some bitter sadness he wondered if the other man was drinking now and it was entirely his fault this time. 

He stared down over the railing. A tiny fantasy of leaping off and into the tree beside it then running away flashed within his mind. Its appearance startled him. It had been a very, very long time since he had considered such things but it had never been from love he had been wanting to run from. So why now?

Movement below caught his eye and he realized Barty had spotted him. He waved back at the man eyeing him and then retreated back into his room. Pretty songbirds like him belonged in their gilded cages safe from the wilds of the real woods. He'd never survive out there. Not even Fletcher believed he could rough it for long. His eyes dragged back towards the other man's door. He wanted to burst in and pounce, to brandish apologies on a silver platter and demand an embrace. But as greedy as he was, that was going too far and even stupid pretty boy that he was, he knew that.

He settled into a chair and stared as the flames died down and dawn crept back through his window. How many more nights were going to start lovely and end in heartbreak like this? Were they just ill-fitted? Was Theo forcing something on Fletcher that the other man was all too eager to go along with because he didn't know better and was just that desperate?

For once, Theo dreaded what the morning would bring. He felt terrible, looked worse, and was too afraid that he'd be receiving a cold look from Fletcher instead of the warmth he craved. He did write a letter though begging off having Edwina come over, feigning a headache and begged one of the guards to switch with Neal so that he didn't have to face the man's scrutiny when he was already feeling like dirt under a farmer's boot.

Instead of returning to his chair by the fire, he dragged it out onto the balcony along with a throw blanket. At least the cool air would help keep him awake and didn't require him to get caught and yelled at for being in the yard by his mother whose nerves would likely suffer a fright over her baby boy risking getting sick in the "frigid" temperatures. All he wanted was peace, and perhaps a bit of punishment for having ruined things again. It would serve him right if he caught a cold. Maybe then he wouldn't have to face the world for a few weeks. 

He nodded in understanding. This was why he hadn't gone straight back to Fletcher's room when he left to give him space. There was less sting in the rejection by being told no versus being kicked out of the room or abandoned in it.

"Alright. Get some good sleep. I love you and I'll see you in the morning."

Theo sat up in bed staring ahead at the fire as a million thoughts swirled slowly through his head. He'd confessed at last how he felt. But it had been done in frustration and not sweetness as he had always dreamed. He had been confessed back to. But it had been done in anger and not tenderness as he had always hoped. He'd made this man the the loved above all else look at him in such pain and fear, had trod upon the space Fletcher had been seeking and inserted himself into to without care of the other man's wants. All his talk of respecting Fletcher's boundaries, wants, needs and then he'd gone and done that. 

He picked anxiously at his nail beds, waiting and wondering what state his love would be in when he returned. Would he even speak to him? Would he just storm away and slam the door? Would he feel better? Worse? Would he come back to bed or call Theo to his? Would he retreat further into himself and drink himself tipsy again?

So wrapped up in his thoughts, Theo initially missed Fletcher's entrance through the balcony doors. He did however catch the look and sat up straighter. His mouth opened before he had time to think as he called out, hesitant and nervous but longing.

"Jack? Are you going to bed? Or...would you like to come stay?"