His heart ached deeply. What London 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?"

Fletch looked horrified as it finally sunk in exactly what he'd done to Theo. "No. No no no. That's not — that's not what I was doing — I wouldn't. We're past that. I respect you too much. But you left me, and all I could see was you trying to start another fight when I still needed air from the last one. That was all, Theo. I'm not like that. You know I'm not."

Fletch looked away for a moment and took a deep breath, blinking away the burning in his eye. "I'm sorry. I was awful earlier. Dragging you in like that. I...really don't want to relive this shit right now, but I think you deserve to know. I think I erm...I think I need to sit."

He returned to his chair, head hung, and slumped into it. He closed his eye for a moment, willing himself to focus on the very thing he avoided day after day. When he thought he had a tenuous hold on it, he returned his gaze to Theo. "You need to know where this is coming from, love. I think it's the only way I'll make any sort of sense to you. Ven and I were together for over ten years. That part you know. Here's what you don't.

"He was a healer from the start. He...got into his own supply when he was younger. Poppy. It was what he used to keep from feeling, I think. Like me and drinking. And maybe he quit back then, but once you've started something like that, you never really quit for good. And then when we finally had some peace, it was like everything caught back up to him and he couldn't handle it. And he started in on it again. And he pulled away from me. Started having tantrums when I took his poppy or asked anything of him. So I took care of him through it. Made decisions for him. Made sure he ate, you know. Washed him. Kept him safe. And then he just...finally...left. Left me. Left everyone. By his own hand."

Fletcher ground his teeth and clenched his jaw and looked away again with such fierce and bitter agony. Only when he'd controlled it did he look back. "When you act like him, I do what I know. And that's making the decisions and keeping you safe and holding everything else in. I didn't know you were sleeping. I thought you were trying to...I thought you wanted me to watch you hurt yourself. To hurt me. I'm so sorry, Theo. I didn't think. I wasn't thinking."

"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."

Home?

Was home supposed to hurt like this? He supposed it always had, in some way or another. If there was ever a place he had to watch his own back, it was home. As he passed over Theo's threshold, he braced himself for what he knew he was too raw to face. But he had to do this. He wouldn't drag this man down with him.

He put some distance between them, opting to stand beside the fire, hands still clasped behind his back like anyone else could see him. He stumbled over what to say, but with no armor left, everything was a jumbled mess, and no one part of it was clear enough to focus on. "Theo, I'm sorry," he blurted out instead. "I didn't know. I didn't mean to. I thought you..."

He stopped and thought on what the man had told him by the window and tried again. "You said you're not him. Good. I wouldn't want you if you were. But you went and did something that was so like him that it..."

There was another pause as he wrested control of that sick anger. "You dig in like you're trying to tear my damned skin off to see me. And I say stop, and you say you will while you dig in deeper. And then you go and say a thing like that. Something — no one's ever — and I say it back, and then you leave? And then you just leave me with it? Like you got what you wanted and damn what you do to me? Don't do that. Don't be him. I can't do this again. I can't have another man just — just pull me apart and break me like this."

"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.

Fletch shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Now. I'm hurting you. I don't want to be."

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. 

From the first words out of Theo's mouth, the wall fell, revealing anguish and fear and worry. He'd hurt Theo. He'd been mistaken and he'd genuinely hurt the man. Somewhere along the way, their accounts of the other night had diverged, and both had clearly left with a very different picture of how it had all gone down, and now they both were bleeding. He listened intently, and by the end of it, he looked close to tears.

"I'm sorry," he rasped. "That wasn't..." He stopped himself. Hesitantly, he lifted his hands and signed instead. "Not here. Could be heard. Your room."

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."

Begrudgingly, he followed the nobleman down the hall and about his day. He hadn't missed the tears. Theo had been crying in the time between when Fletch had left and when the man had reappeared. The sight only irritated him further. "Playing lost puppy now? Really?" he muttered behind Theo's back. He felt sick the moment he said it. With that invisible jab, he'd stepped over the line from self-defense to cruelty. Regardless of Theo's maturity, Fletch had to be better than this. He couldn't stoop to who he used to be. 

They stopped by a window, and Theo stared out to the horizon like a caged animal that had long ago accepted its fate. And then, without so much as a warning, he dug again. Fletcher's expression turned dark and warning as he faced the man. What a thing to hold over him right now. What a weighty thing. And if the wrong person overheard them, what a threat to his place here. "As much as needed to do my job, sir," he murmured.