lanselos_du_lac | [Semi-Closed Post] the 'how are you's

"Good as new," Magnus says, which -- physically speaking, at least -- is accurate. Galahad knows how much Magnus is still shaken, because Galahad is his bestest best friend. Lancelot doesn't need to know about all that, though. Especially since the next thing Magnus says, is, "I trust you haven't let all this add to your trauma."

Galahad watches Lancelot with his usual very serious and unblinking look.

Lancelot shrugs, holding up his bandaged hand. "I'm well enough that you should not worry."

He shifts his gaze to Galahad, "I am also glad to find you, since I owe an apology to the two of you, together."

"What the hell, dude, you got hurt???" Magnus demands, and then clamps his mouth shut -- Galahad was addressed; Galahad should get to talk.

"How were you hurt?"

He was, he supposes, hoping to keep the focus on them, rather than himself, but there's no reason to keep the details from them.

"When I took the sword back to Lan Wangji, I brought along some of the glass that was also there, in case he might learn something from that. I tried to bundle this up in our shirts--" Well, what was left of his own tunic, plus Magnus' hoodie. "I must have sliced it then. There were a few other very small cuts, but they are of no concern."

Magnus sighs and rolls his eyes, partly to cover up the twinge of guilt he feels at this revelation. "Come here," he says. "I'll heal it the rest of the way."

"Were you afraid?"

Lancelot considers this offer for a moment, and then determines that it will take a task off of Susan's list if she no longer has to dress it. He moves to stand next to Magnus, as he says, "Yes. Very much so. I feared for Magnus, but also that others might come to harm. I didn't understand Magnus' explanation."

"I don't know why not," Magnus sighs, huffily. "I was only a little delirious from blood loss."

It's easy, despite the weirdness of this little season, to call up the power he needs to heal Lancelot. He has a lot of gratitude right there hovering underneath the surface that's profoundly simple to tap into, plus he's flush with the concentration of growing vegetables for several days straight. He reaches with one glowing hand and starts to untie the bandage so he can see what he's working with.

A little of Galahad's hurt softens. Lancelot was frightened and injured. And Susan said he felt badly. He presses his lips together and watches.

The cut itself is probably deep enough to warrant stitches, but it is clean and healing well so far. (It is still rather painful, but Lancelot is used to ignoring that sort of pain.) He stands still, letting Magnus work.

When the healing happens, it will be apparent to Magnus that the last few days have taken their toll, no matter how Lancelot brushes off any questions of trauma. There are some things that are sharply clear: Magnus himself, with the sword pinning him in a pool of his own blood and covered in bits of glass; Lancelot's singular focus on at least slowing the bleeding, getting Magnus somehow stable; carrying Magnus out into the stinging wind and feeling the shock of cold while brushing off Magnus' comments about said cold; Susan's expression when she opens her door to him, the intensity of relief at seeing her unhurt; his own strange feeling at the continued shivering, the lack of coordination; Susan's care for him, in a fluttering collage of specific moments; and, strangely, the memory of Arthur asking him if he would rather stay, of Arthur holding him more tightly than he ever had before.

The rest is a blurry jumble. He remembers the cold, remembers knowing that he had been out in the weather, half-dressed, for much longer than was wise. He remembers finding Lan Wangji, and Alex's dramatic entrance. He remembers knowing that Magnus was recovering. But much of the rest of that day and the days that followed are hazy thanks to the hypothermia, the fever, the general dissociation of managing a life and death situation while being very much out of practice with encountering grave injury or death.

It is, frankly, harrowing to see himself in Lancelot's memories and through Lancelot's eyes -- he looked like that? -- but for all that Magnus is an open book with Galahad and Alex, he's actually pretty good at keeping his reactions to things locked down when he thinks about it, and being exposed to another guy's memories (especially your best friend's quasi-estranged dad's memories) is a good time to lock it down. So he does, even though he's having a little moment of his own. Now that he's softened a little to Lancelot, this little field trip through the massive pile of complexities in a trenchcoat is -- a lot to face down.

He doesn't joke that it's clear Lancelot didn't keep his promise not to be traumatized. If anything is apparent on his face, it's thoughtfulness and focus. The hand wound is easy enough to heal completely, especially since there's no infection; while he's at it, he handles all the other nicks and scratches he can sense, too. As always, it's easier to heal someone else than it is to heal himself. It barely takes a minute.

Galahad watches them both, his gaze flicking from face to face. He can tell Magnus is feeling something, and that it's complicated (he can't tell anything from Lancelot's face).

"Thank you," Lancelot says, with a little partial bow, once Magnus lets him go. He recalls, of course, that Magnus will have seen memories as part of healing him; he pauses for a moment. He isn't entirely sure what Magnus may have seen, but it seems likely that the incident is part of it.

He looks back to Galahad, "So. I came to apologize, as I said, to the both of you. Magnus, you asked for Galahad, I think, but I didn't quite understand you and... things began to get confused. I know, too, that Galahad-- you would have wanted to be with Magnus. I know he is dear to you. But eventually, I was... well. I was very poorly, it didn't occur to me until much later, and by that time I wasn't able to do anything more. I am sorry to have failed you."

That last you is meant to encompass them both, which perhaps he should make clear, but he feels he's already said too much. (He does not want them to see this as an excuse. It is meant as an explanation -- but that distinction hasn't helped him in the past so probably it's best to just stop talking.)

In Magnus's book, Galahad showed up eventually and that's what really matters, but he knows Galahad was more upset about not being there. So he figures this apology is more for Galahad than for him.

Still, that last thing Lancelot said low-key pisses him off. "Yeah," he says, dryly. "It really sucks how you saved my life."

He's quiet for a long moment -- he drops his gaze from Lancelot to the sketchbook on his lap, the sinuous dragon wreathed in myrtle. He thinks of Claudius toasting with Lancelot at Wanderers Gather. He thinks of Susan in the tower.

"I forgive you."

"Thank you," he says, solemnly, to Galahad. Still, as much as he's visibly relieved by Galahad's response, he pauses to consider Magnus'. Eventually he says, "Magnus, I take your point."

Magnus raises his eyebrows, crossing his arms without realizing he's doing it. "Do you?"

His gaze lifts to Lancelot again.

Lancelot thinks briefly of Susan's point that he may hold himself to standards that no one else has for him. Even so.

"Aye," not bothering now to keep any fatigue out of his voice. "I do. But it did not set right with me, that there was something you needed that I missed. And anyway -- I have been weary and am entitled to feel however it is I feel about it. Provided I don't make it your problem."

Magnus's eyebrows stay up, but this time it's because he's surprised. "Huh," he says, thoughtfully, and then nudges Galahad. "Anyway, Galahad found me pretty quickly anyway."

"I did," he allows.

"I am glad of that. And glad you're well. Was Lan Wangji able to learn anything from the blade?"

"You'd have to ask him. Or Alex. Or -- Galahad, do you know?" Magnus has decided to take a back seat in this investigation.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject