Chapter Text
Waking up feeling like absolute shit wasn't exactly a new experience for Kian, but fuck it was rarely this bad. His head felt like someone was stabbing a knife repeatedly through his skill, swallowing felt like sandpaper dragging against the inside of her throat, and his stomach hurt almost as much as it had with Becky, like the acid inside them was trying to break apart her insides in a desperate attempt to get something to feed on. And on top of all that there was the aching throughout his body, much worse than it had felt the previous night now that there wasn't alcohol and the cold numbing the pain.
It felt fucking horrible, yet there was that fucked up familiar comfort in the pain. He could almost pretend that she was back in LA, like everything that had happened since they returned to Galloway had been a fucked up fantasy that she'd gotten too invested in. He'd always return to this, waking up hungry and hungover and feeling like death, a stranger's arms wrapped around her and offering a shallow pretense of care while he couldn't even remember how he'd ended up here. It was right, it was safe, it was reliable. A shitty life of everything he deserved.
Fingers began to scratch at his scalp, gentle and grounding, though the arms around her hadn't shifted. There was someone else in the room, then, running their long fingers through his hair, carefully de-tangling the curls. There was a strange rumbling that accompanied it, familiar in a way that Kian couldn't quite name. It was… nice. Much nicer than he'd expected. Much nicer than she deserved, too intimate, too caring. It made him feel sick with guilt.
Maybe the gentleness was deserved, maybe it was an apology for whatever the fuck had happened the previous night. She didn't remember what that actually was, everything after he'd hit his head getting slammed into the ground by one of the assholes he'd picked a fight with was a blur, but there were only so many explanations for why they'd be naked in bed with someone after getting blackout drunk the previous night. Maybe whoever he was with felt guilty for taking advantage of the state he'd been in or something.
Even if he didn't really feel like she'd been taken advantage of. There wasn't that usual gross feeling of waking up the morning after a hookup, dried cum sticking to her skin and ass and sometimes even hair, their whole body still wet with sweat, both his own and other peoples'. He felt like shit, sure, but she felt clean. Even though he knew she definitely hadn't been conscious enough to clean herself, and the odds of a stranger putting in the effort to do it for him were pretty much zero.
It was confusing, a contradiction without an explanation. Trying to make sense of it just made her head hurt even worse, the thoughts slipping out of his grasp like trying to carry oil. And it wasn't helped by the rumbling—that word didn't sound right, but he didn't really know what else to call it—that came from behind him, jumbling up his thoughts while also filling her with an incomprehensible sense of safety, a need to rest and relax and not worry or think because he was safe, she was with his hive and it was going to be okay…
…what- what the fuck? Why the fuck had he thought that, his hive? It was like she'd been thrown headfirst into freezing cold water, the confusion and gentleness and safety shattering in an instant as they ripped away from the arms around her, pushing himself up to sit even as the buzzing—the buzzing, that was the right fucking word—got more high-pitched and concerned, reaching inside him to the instincts that shouldn't have been there anymore but still clung onto her like a fucking parasite.
He didn't get even a moment to make sense of things, though, getting up so fast just made everything worse. The knives inside his skull had multiplied, and a small bit of acid burned up his throat and into his mouth, she was barely able to shut his mouth in time to stop it from spilling all over themself. Black spots danced in his blurry vision, making sure he couldn't make any sense of his surroundings before firm hands grabbed onto him and slowly pushed him back down.
"Chill out, you gotta fuckin' give your body time to adjust before getting up like that." Rand's familiar voice was more than enough to confirm the worst possible explanation for what was going on. He wasn't in bed with a stranger after a drunken hookup, no, she was with Rolan and Rand, and Rolan was holding them, trying to calm her down, buzzing gently and promising safety and love while Rand kept him from escaping it.
"What- what the fuck are you doing?" Fuck, speaking hurt his throat even more, and the words came out fearful and confused instead of angry like he'd intended. She couldn't make any sense of what what happening, how they'd ended up like this when the last thing Kian remembered of being with them was yelling at them and attacking them with the worst possible shit she could come up with. How, how had he managed to mess up badly enough to be waking up in their arms after that?
They were supposed to hate her, that was the whole point, so why the fuck were they not acting like it? Kian had fucked up somehow, but she didn't remember how, or how to make things right again, how to fix what they'd broken, and it was so fucking hard to think with the way his head was hurting and Rolan's buzzing trying to coax him back to sleep-
She tried to pull away from Rolan's hold to no avail, all it got them was Rolan's tone rising again, switching from gentle and comforting to bordering on angry, or maybe disappointed, like he was trying to correct a bratty kid's behavior. Kian hated how close it was to working, how his instinct was to immediately go limp and let Rolan care for him and click out an apology that she didn't even have the vocal chords to properly make. Stupid leftover bug instincts telling him to submit to an older member of the hive, it was bullshit.
"You talkin' to me or him? Cause quite frankly I've got no clue where bug boy's brain is at right now either." Rolan responded with a string of clicks that almost sounded like words. Kian blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to get rid of the spots dancing around in his vision as his eyes looked for Rand's face through the haze of everything. The light pouring in through the window didn't help, it just made everything glow, but slowly he was able to make some sense of what was in front of him.
Rand was sitting on the bed, his legs dangling off the edge, boxers covering some of his hairy thighs and his torso hidden by one of his stupid fucking band Ts that Kian knew he should have recognized, the name of it right on the tip of his tongue but always slipping away when she tried to grasp for it, the letters printed on the fabric swimming and mixing into a nauseating nothingness every time he tried to make sense of them.
And above that was Rand's stupid, pretty, trying to act casual but clearly worried face, his awkward teenage boy stache still the only facial hair he could grow despite how hairy he managed to be everywhere else. There were two tiny cuts on his lips, ones that Kian was almost certain hadn't been there last night, and above all of that were the orange aviator glasses reflecting Kian's own messed up appearance back at him.
Behind him Kian could see forever unpacked boxes and suitcases littered around an otherwise bare bedroom, an unused desk sitting opposite the bed because what the fuck would he even use it for? They didn't let their gaze linger on the room, turning back to Rand instead, hoping desperately that the expression on her face came across as glaring instead of pathetic squinting.
"What the fuck are you doing in- in my room?" Not his, it wasn't, but if she said something else Rand might notice and press her on it and it'd be a whole fucking thing and he didn't need that when they were already having an entirely different thing to deal with. Rand just stared at him for a moment, his expression unchanging, before he responded.
"You don't remember, then?"
"Fucking obviously not, I wouldn't ask if I did, asshole."
"Jeez, chill out, I just wanted to make sure. I mean, you were really fuckin' out of it but I didn't know if you'd retain something at least-"
"Stop fucking avoiding the question, dude! You can't just talk around shit when I wake up in my bed with you fucking cuddling me while I'm naked, you-"
…fuck.
Oh, fuck.
His hands reached towards his thighs before they could think. She was naked. Fully and entirely, not even underwear or anything. Had he undressed willingly? Had the others forced him to strip before putting them to bed? Maybe—maybe they hadn't seen. Maybe it had been dark, or she'd gotten into bed before they could notice, maybe. But the look on Rand's face, the frown that may very well have been born from either guilt or pity, it all but confirmed that Kian hadn't been that lucky.
Rand knew, he'd seen them, the cuts, and he of all people knew what they meant, and there was no fucking way that Kian could get out of this. What could he say? Claim that it wasn't what it looked like? What the fuck else could it be? No, it he needed to be calm, there were—she could get out of this, there were excuses that would work, he just needed to think through the buzzing and the headache and-
"Stop fucking looking at me like that, man, it's not what you think." Rand just stared at him, looking incredibly unimpressed and equally unwilling to believe her. Rolan's buzzing changed in tone again, back to that disappointed sound, chastising him for lying to them.
"You don't actually expect that to work, right?" No, not really, but he had to at least try. Even if they didn't believe him, they couldn't make her admit the truth. He just needed a story to stick to, something believable enough that it had even a small chance of making them doubt what they already knew.
"It's the truth, dude. I didn't fucking make them myself, just got a bit wild with this chick with long as fuck nails."
"Okay, sure, let's pretend that's not the shittiest excuse you've ever come up with. You wanna come up with another one for why some of them look days or weeks old and some you probably made literally yesterday?"
"Some of them were deeper than others, man, they take longer to heal."
Rand sighed, running his hand through his hair—a nervous habit that Rolan had and Rand had apparently picked up for himself at some point—as he glared daggers at Kian. He was getting frustrated, okay, not what he'd hoped for, but she could work with this. They didn't need Rand to believe him, she just needed to make him see that it wasn't worth it to keep arguing about it.
"Would you stop the fuckin' act already, man? We're not going to believe you, so just give it up and let us help." Not a chance in hell, he wasn't putting that on them. They couldn't help anyways, letting them try would just end badly for everyone involved. They couldn't help. Nobody could.
"Oh, fuck off, we both know you're just trying to prove to yourself that you're not worse than me." The only change to Rand's expression was his eyes widening slightly, but it was enough. Even if being cruel filled him with a nauseating guilt, it'd be worth it to get Rand to give up on them. It'd have to be worth it.
"Fucking wishing that I'd be as fucked in the head as you are so you could feel better about yourself, is that it? Poor Timothy, always left behind, trying to drag others down to your level 'cause you know that you could never catch up otherwise-"
"S- click -stop."
He tried not to flinch as Rolan cut him off, voice stern and steady despite the clicking that interrupted it. Fuck, the effect of what she was saying would have been much stronger if he wasn't stuck being held by Rolan like this. Rand's face remained unchanged, the words very clearly not hitting as hard as they should have.
"I'm just saying what we all know is true-"
"- clickcli -I said-"
"Ro, let go of him for a moment so he can sit up."
What? He couldn't think fast enough to hide the confusion on their face, his eyes boring into Rand as he stared down at her, his expression still just as unreadable. Why would he ask for that? Was his strategy really to just ignore him, surely he didn't actually think that that would work, right? Kian was too stubborn to just accept defeat, for fuck's sake, if Rand tried to ignore him she'd just get worse until he had to acknowledge it.
After a moment Rolan obeyed Rand's command, though, his arms falling limp around Kian and allowing them to finally get out of the safety and warmth of his hold. She was more careful sitting up this time, he'd learned his lesson from last time, and although they still felt a little lightheaded because of it, it wasn't nearly as bad. Once he'd sat up, Kian could now see Barc laying at the end of the bed, his tail thumping against the mattress slightly as his eyes locked onto Kian's. At the same time, Rolan's long—too long for a regular human—fingers wrapped around her wrist, though whether that was to make sure he couldn't get away, or just to satisfy the bug side of his brain, Kian couldn't be sure.
She glared at Rand, but he just responded by looking to the side instead, reaching over towards Kian's nightstand to grab something. Following his gaze they saw a glass of water, a pill set on top of a small bit of tissue paper, and a bowl of yogurt with what looked like jam and honey mixed in it. His stomach growled at the sight, he hadn't eaten in… a while. He didn't deserve to, with all the horrible shit he was doing.
Luckily Rand left the bowl untouched, instead grabbing the glass of water and the medicine. He pushed them towards Kian, a clear, wordless command that she had no intentions of obeying. The more difficult they were, the less Rand would be able to keep this up. And besides, the pill was almost certainly a painkiller. Hurting was the least repentance that he could do.
"I'm not taking that shit."
"Yes, you are."
"No."
Rand sighed, a heavy and exhausted sound, and Kian couldn't help but feel a small bit triumphant for getting on his nerves. Even if Rand didn't seem exactly angry yet, it was only a matter of time. He had a temper, and Kian knew what buttons to press to get to him. He couldn't keep this act of indifference up forever.
"This isn't going to go how you want it to, Ki." He didn't sound as annoyed as she'd expected. He almost sounded sad, or maybe guilty? Fuck, that wasn't… that wasn't right. He wasn't supposed to be sad, or at least not like this, not in a way that didn't include shouting and anger and violence. Rand's sadness always included violence, it was just a question of whether he directed that at himself or others. Him seeming so calm just felt wrong.
"Don't- don't fucking talk like you know what's going on in my brain, asshole." Fuck, that came out way more pathetic than they'd wanted it to. He was losing control of the situation fast, he needed Rand to get actually upset and snap in anger already or she was going to fully lose the plot. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like Rand was too keen to do so, he still just looked sad.
"I do know what's going on in your brain." He said it like it was a fact, like it was obvious and Kian was stupid for not being aware of it. Kian didn't know what to do with it, didn't know what to do with being treated like he was dumber than he was. It should have been an inherently negative feeling, and they didn't know what to do with the fact that it wasn't. That some small part of her wanted to cling to Rand treating him like something lesser.
"No, you fucking don't." Rand stared at him for a moment, unmoving and expressionless before he closed his eyes, speaking with a tone much more even and factual than Kian had ever heard him use outside of DMing for them.
"You're being as mean and assholish as you possibly can to the people who care about you in hopes that it's gonna make us hate you and leave you alone to wallow in your own self-hatred in peace." For a moment, the entire world seemed to stop. All the thoughts going on in Kian's head, all the arguments and disagreements died on his tongue and left her unable to speak as Rand continued. "And it's not gonna work no matter how much you want it to."
This wasn't—they weren't supposed to know, they couldn't know, Rand was—he was just saying shit. The entire plan needed them not to know, if they knew then they were just going to get more stubborn and less willing to admit that they needed him gone, they couldn't know. It couldn't all have been for nothing, he needed them to not know so they would hate her and let him go willingly because otherwise he would keep hurting them and all the awful things he'd said would be for nothing.
"That's- I'm not-" They couldn't get the words out, couldn't think of something to say quick enough, she needed something, something to dismiss and distract and make things right again but he couldn't think of what and Rolan's hand squeezed his wrist and he could probably fucking hear the way that Kian's heart was racing and it was only convincing them further-
"Ki, you couldn't seriously expect to do the exact same shit you would call me out for back in the day and have me not catch on eventually. I mean, yeah, I'm not as fuckin' smart as you are, but I'm not stupid." Grab onto something, anything, anything to make them focus on something else, anything else, make Rand angry so he would look at him with hatred instead of that horrible pity that made them want to break and give in already.
"I'm not broken like you fucking are." That would work, right? Making it seem like Rand was projecting, being unreasonable and mentally ill, it had to work, make Rand doubt himself and Rolan doubt if he could trust his perception. It would work, it had worked when Rand had called her out for all his lying back then, it would have been fine if Kian had just been stronger and didn't break under the pressure, they could do that this time.
"You- clickclick -you're not getting anywhere with- click -this. You told us last- click -night that- clickclickcli-" What the fuck was he trying to say? What had Kian told them? If Rolan could actually speak properly, it would have made things much easier, but as it was getting the words out was very clearly a struggle for him. Kian could see his face from the corner of his eye and the way he winced as he cleared his throat made it seem physically painful.
Rand set the glass and pill back on the bedside table with a soft thunk, while lifting his other hand towards Rolan like he was going to pat him on the shoulder. He froze right before making contact, though, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air before falling back on the bed beside him.
"It's fine, man, let me handle the talkin' if it's too hard with all your… shit." There was something about the way Rand moved and spoke, some unspoken tension in his actions when they were directed at Rolan. His instinct, like always, would have been to ask what was happening, to try and help with whatever it was, but she shot that down. Being good and useful would only make things worse right now.
Rand cleared his throat awkwardly, his expression hardening as he turned his attention back to Kian. "Bug boy's right, though, you all but admitted it, so you can just give it up already."
No, he fucking hadn't. They were bluffing, pretending they had proof that they didn't, that was the only explanation, because Kian couldn't have been careless enough to do that. She refused to believe it, refused to even entertain the idea that they might have ruined everything like that. Even if they were right, it didn't mean anything, they'd just fucking assumed shit and were now trying to get him to confess.
"I wouldn't- that's bullshit, I wouldn't fucking do that."
"You very much did. What was it, 'please just hate me already, I can't keep doing this, you were supposed to give up on me by now', something along those lines. You might not remember it, but you can't take that back anymore. We know what you're doing. And we're not gonna give you the reaction you want."
That- that hadn't happened. Kian hadn't said that, he couldn't have, he couldn't have. But fuck, Rand looked so sure, so confident, and he wasn't this good at lying, and she'd been drunk, and high and concussed and clearly not fucking thinking straight, so what if they had? What if he had fucking broken apart, admitted the truth, ruined everything?
They couldn't know. They couldn't know how broken she was, because if they knew then they'd just try to fucking cling on harder in a useless attempt to fix him, and they'd get hurt because of it and refuse to let her go and he was too fucking weak to fight it forever. Eventually he'd break and actually believe that they cared, that he could stay, and she couldn't go through that again, he couldn't put them through trying to help him when she couldn't be helped, they couldn't.
She needed them to hate him, there was no other way to make things right. They needed to hate him. But if they knew, if they knew that that was the whole fucking point, then they'd never let it happen, and they'd keep being like this, keep giving her gentleness and care that wasn't real, couldn't be real, and more importantly that he didn't fucking deserve. He'd keep being a burden on them and making their lives worse and some fucked up sense of obligation would still keep them clinging onto them until it broke them badly enough that they finally gave up.
But she didn't know how to stop it, didn't know what to say to convince them, what strings to pull on to make it right again. He needed to, needed to think of something, anything, because she couldn't be selfish and give up no matter how fucking badly they wanted to do exactly that. He needed to fight, needed to argue, needed… needed to convince them that it wasn't worth it. That she wasn't worth it.
…she wasn't worth it. She wasn't. She.
Would it be enough? Surely, surely it would be, they'd been uncomfortable with the dresses, they'd barely even tried to hide their disgust, for fuck's sake, Rand was still uncomfortable with the fact that he was a queer. Her being a tranny would have to be the last straw. There was no way they could move past that, even if they wanted to.
But what if they could? What if it wasn't enough? What if Kian confessed everything, and they still didn't give up? Could he risk that? Could she risk how much more impossible leaving them would be if they accepted her? If despite everything, they'd still insist on putting up with him? They wouldn't, they couldn't, but what if?
"…get out of my room." It wasn't his, it wasn't, it never would be, she didn't deserve for it to be. Too nice, too safe, too clean, he'd ruin it like they did with everything, contaminate it, it wasn't theirs. He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve it.
"Yeah, not happening." They had to, why couldn't they fucking understand that they had to? That if they stayed she'd break, and they'd be the ones to suffer, and eventually it'd be too much and he'd get left alone either way and it'd be worse because she was weak enough to believe that that wouldn't happen.
"Fine, dude. I'm gonna fuckin' go, then." He went to stand up, but couldn't even manage that before Rolan's hand around his wrist tightened and Rand grabbed onto their shoulder, pulling him back down harshly enough that Kian nearly fell back over from the force of it.
"No, you're not. Not until you actually let us help." They needed to fucking stop, she already felt like a dam on the verge of breaking, he had to get away before the cracks got too big for him to fix. He tried to pull his hand away from Rolan's grasp to no avail, glaring at Rand with as much anger as he could possibly manage.
"I don't want your fucking help-"
"Uh-huh, sure, heard that already last night. The thing is, man, I know you're full of shit."
"I'm not-"
"Yes, you are. For fuck's sake, Kian, you can't lie your way out of this, not to me. Of all people, out of everyone in this shitty fucking world, I get what this shit is like!"
He didn't quite get loud enough that it could be considered shouting, but Rand's voice definitely rose above the norm for him. Rolan's buzzing got a little louder again, a bit more persistent in an attempt to keep Rand calm, but all it fucking did was make Kian's limbs feel like jelly as Rand continued his ranting.
"You want help, I know you fucking do, because so did I! I wanted so fucking badly for someone to get through all that God damn anger and hurt and insist on helping me anyways, no matter how little I deserved it, no matter what I did to drive them away, and guess what? You did. You were the only one who fucking did, who stuck by me, and I hated it, I hated you for being there for me, I fucking dreaded seeing you because I knew it'd make me feel less miserable and that was the only thing I deserved! And you're doing the exact same shit as I did back then, saying whatever you can to push people away, and it's not going to fucking work."
He leaned in close to Kian's face, close enough that their noses were almost touching, and Kian couldn't move, could barely breathe, he was so close, and so warm, and they could feel his breath on his face, and fuck it was hot. It wasn't fair, Rand couldn't fucking do this to him, not when he had such an intensity in his eyes, and he was sure that Rand could hear the way his heart raced, both from fear and, more strongly, from want.
"I don't care what you do, what you say, I don't give a shit how many times you insult me, or blame me for everything I already fucking know is my fault, or use everything I fucking hate about myself against me, I'm going to help you, because I fucking love you and I'm not going to risk losing you again!"
She needed to get away, away from Rand's hands and the look in his eyes and the words that Kian wanted so fucking badly to believe even though he knew he couldn't. Even if Rand meant it, even if he believed it himself, it wasn't true. He couldn't handle them forever, nobody could, he'd give up and let her go just like he always fucking did and until then he'd keep suffering trying to fix someone so beyond fixing, and he'd keep doing it because he was too stubborn to admit defeat and Kian would keep making things worse because that was all they ever fucking did.
And eventually they would see that too, they'd see that she was ruining them and they'd finally accept what he'd been saying all along and by then maybe Kian would be stupid enough to believe they wouldn't and it'd hurt so much more and that was what he deserved, to hurt, but fuck he couldn't take it, he was already so broken, so exhausted, so scarred, she couldn't take any more pain.
His entire life had been nothing but pain and pushing through and surviving despite that and he couldn't fucking take it anymore. Couldn't take the hunger, the smell of vomit and rot, the yelling from the next room over and the people who only saw him as a plague or a means to an end and those who tried to help but always failed because eventually they realized he wasn't worth it and every fucking time she fell for it, every time they thought it might be different, that this time they wouldn't give up, this time things would actually get better and maybe they would for a little bit, an hour or a day or a week or a month or maybe even a year but it never lasted because he always fucking ruined it and he was so fucking tired of it, so tired of trying and believing and still ending up right back down where he belonged.
He was tired of it all, so, so fucking tired. He just wanted to stop already, to stop fighting, stop surviving, stop thinking and feeling and breathing. She could have, so many times he'd had the chance, but every single time he chickened out. Every time he clung onto that same stupid childish hope that dying wouldn't be worth it, that it could get better, that his life didn't need to always be so fucking meaningless, and yet every single time it was.
"Ki- hive -Kian?" Rolan's voice was still overlaid with the same buzzing, the same promises of love and safety and warmth that she knew were empty, empty promises and offers of belonging that he could never truly earn, never be good enough for, because they'd known, of course they had, he wouldn't be able to bring them in, couldn't ever hope to be strong enough or smart enough or good enough for the one single job it'd been given, that was all it had to do, just bring them to the hive, to the queen, and then it could rest, then it could be loved and cared for and it could atone for his lies making them think it would be worth something. It was never supposed to succeed, it was never going to. And still, still, he wanted to believe the same promises again, because she could never learn his lesson.
A tear rolled down their cheek, wet and warm and salty as it slipped past his lips and onto his tongue. Rand's fingers, fat and rough and calloused from burn scars wiped away the next one that followed, gentle in that horrible way that Kian wasn't strong enough to resist leaning into. Even worse, Rolan moved behind him, his hand still holding onto their wrist but his other arm wrapping around her in an embrace, the weight of his body and the deep buzzing from within him making Kian tremble all the way down to her bones, still with those same offerings of protection and hive and belonging.
He wanted to believe them so fucking badly. Wanted to give in and believe their promises even when she knew he couldn't, shouldn't, wasn't allowed to, wasn't supposed to. It wouldn't last, it wouldn't be given for free, and he'd never earn it, never deserve it, and still, still his mouth opened in a desperate need to call back, to respond, to plead and beg for her hive, for a chance to be better, good, useful, he'd be obedient and good and do anything that was asked if they just kept her, if they protected and loved them. She tried, tried to say it, tried to get it out even when he knew it wouldn't be worth it in the end, but he couldn't, his body wasn't built correctly for it anymore, they didn't have the right kind of anatomy, the right vocal chords, and instead of clicks and buzzing all that came out was a pathetic, childish whine.
"There we go, rockstar, just let it all out." She shook his head weakly, desperately, he couldn't, he couldn't do this to them, couldn't put all the weight on her shoulders onto them, he needed to be strong and selfless no matter how much it hurt, no matter how tired she was, they couldn't give in, couldn't, couldn't.
"Stop- stop it-"
"And why should we? You know what, sure, give us a single good reason to do that, and maybe we'll consider it."
"Rand, we're- cliclick -not-"
"Chill out, man, I know what I'm doing. So go ahead, tell us why we should stop."
It was a trap, he knew that it was. To what end, she wasn't sure, couldn't think clearly enough to figure it out, but he knew Rand wasn't actually planning on giving him a fair chance. But still, despite that knowledge, maybe it could work? Maybe he could actually get them to give up. He was quite honestly desperate enough to try anything at this point.
They took a deep breath, tried to calm himself, tried to stop the tears and the trembling and the horrible nauseating aching in his chest. She needed to be smart about this, needed to give them something they might actually listen to, he needed to at least try and make them see reason.
"Because- because, dude, you're going to fucking get hurt if you don't." Rand raised an eyebrow at him, his expression almost bordering on amused.
"You really think threats are gonna be your best bet right now?"
"It's not- it's not a fucking threat, man, it's a fact! You're not-"
Breathe in, out, in, out, he needed to stay calm, needed to keep up an act of confidence so it wouldn't all come crumbling down. They wouldn't listen if she was emotional, he needed to be calm.
"You're not my fucking therapists, if you try to help you're just gonna end up getting overwhelmed, and it's gonna hurt you. You're not equipped to deal with my bullshit, and you shouldn't fucking have to, either." Rand nodded as if he was actually considering their words, though he looked way too sure of himself to actually be listening to her.
"Uh-huh. And let me guess, that's of course totally different from you trying to help us with our issues, because of… reasons?"
"Because I can handle it and you can't, dude."
"Really? That's the best you can come up with? Come on, Ki, you've gotta have something better than that."
Fucking—trying to reason with Rand was useless, it always was, he was too stubborn and too proud to admit he was wrong, especially when it came to his own well-being. It was a losing fight to go against Rand on this when he'd already decided he was right. But he could still try to get Rolan to listen, right? Rolan was more reasonable, generally, more willing to hear people out, more capable of seeing Rand's issues than he was himself. So maybe he could get him to listen.
They tried to turn around, twisting in Rolan's arms in an attempt to face him, but had no option other than to give up as Rolan continued holding onto her just as tightly, refusing to let him move properly. He was forced to instead stare at the mattress and Rand's lap in front of her.
"Rolan…" A quiet hum came from behind him, letting him know that he was listening without actually needing to say anything. "Rolan, man, please, you know I'm right, you- you know Rand's… fragile. He can't fucking try to take up my issues to handle when he's barely taking care of himself, it's gonna make him so much worse and- fuck, dude, you can't put my well-being above his."
Rand hated being fragile, hated being pitied and looked down on, and he'd probably never forgive either of them if Rolan agreed with her, but fuck, he had to. He had to understand how horrible of an idea this was, how stupid it would be to let both Kian and Rand end up hurt in a useless attempt to help him.
The seconds passed in silence as he waited for Rolan to respond, the buzzing still trying to pull them into a rest that she couldn't let himself have. He needed to be strong, needed to keep fighting no matter how nice it sounded to just get to rest.
When Rolan finally did speak, his voice was deep and rumbly, though horribly, deceptively calm. "You're wrong." For the first time all morning, he wasn't interrupted by the clicks, the words he spoke clear and even. Kian was going to fucking scream, for fuck's sake, he couldn't take them ganging up on her right now, siding with each other over him even though he was right.
"Fucking- Rolan, you know I'm-"
"No, I don't. You're wrong. Rand… fine- clickhive -yeah, he's not okay. He's fucked in the head and definitely needs to see a fucking shrink. But you make him better, not worse. Helping you makes him better."
"That's not true, man, stop trying to-"
"Kian, he functions best when- click -when he's in control. He always has, you know he was always most in his element when DMing or taking care of Rachel when we were babysitting her together or leading the way on whatever dumb fucking exploration we'd go on. Think about it, when does he have his worst episodes? It's when he doesn't know what to do, or feels like he doesn't have control over a situation. If you want him to be better, then… then gi- clickclick -give him the chance to have that control."
It wasn't true. It wasn't, there was no way that Rand could feel better over trying to help her, that wasn't how it worked. He was a burden, burdens didn't fucking make things better, burdens led to a life stuck in a trailer with no stable income, no family support, drug abuse and mental health issues and a life that was ruined before it could really even start.
"I'm also not a complete fucking idiot, you know." His head snapped upwards to look at Rand's face before he could think to stop themself, though it was at least a small blessing that Rand was looking to the side instead of at him as he continued. "I know I'm not okay, you don't need to try and convince me of it. But neither are you, and you've still been helping me for a long ass fucking time, so if you get to do that, so do I."
"It's- that's different, dude! I told you, I can handle it, you can't!"
"Then I'll stop. If you're right, if it gets too much, then guess what? I'll stop. I'll step back and let Rolan take care of you until I feel better and can do it again. Or if- if it happens when you're doing fine, then I'll fucking let you take care of me in return."
"And what if we're all doing badly at the same time? What then, man? What's your genius fucking plan for that?"
"Nothing. Then we'll all feel like shit, let bug boy make the whole house into a shitty pillow fort if he wants, live off of pizza and weed and let all our garbage pile up until one of us feels good enough to take care of it. It's gonna be shit but at least better than if we were all dealin' with it alone."
He said it like it was simple, obvious, and Kian hated that he couldn't come up with anything to say to convince him that it was a bad idea. Any argument he could think of would be dismissed too easily, brushed aside and ignored and only used against her later. It all sounded so weak and useless, even to his own ears. But they had to fucking try.
"That's not gonna be fair to the one who feels better first, dude." Rand just shrugged his shoulders, not even disagreeing with her, simply acting like it wasn't a big deal.
"Yeah, so? Life's not fair, and nobody's fuckin' askin' for every friendship to be a perfect fifty-fifty." Kian chose not to point out that since there were three of them, it would be more like receiving sixty, giving thirty for things to be fair between all of them. Rand would just call him a fucking nerd if he said that.
"Besides, who's to say you can't be the one to feel fine before us, man. That'd give you an actually valid excuse to ignore your own needs and focus on us, shouldn't you be fuckin' jumping for joy at that chance?" In theory, yes. The issue was, it wouldn't fucking be Kian. He was too fucked up, if she gave in to the chance to be taken care of and pampered even once then they'd never fucking want to give it up. It would end up being Rolan or Rand who would have to pick up after him, and she wasn't letting that happen.
"It wouldn't be me, man. It'd fucking be one of you two every time."
"And why's that?"
"Because, dude, I'm not going to get better."
It came out too defeated, too broken, too everything that Rand wanted him to be at this moment. Rolan's arms tightened around him, the clicking growing more distressed, more upset as he spoke.
"You don't- clickcl -know that-"
"Yes, I fucking do! for fuck's sake, I've tried! I've gone to therapy and taken the meds and all the other shit you're supposed to do, and guess what, it never fucking works! Or- or if it does, it only does for a bit, and then I'm right back to before, and it's- fuck, man, you can't waste your time with me when it's never going to get any fucking better than it is right now!"
Kian knew admitting it was a mistake, but she said it anyways. They wouldn't believe him, they'd just take it as him needing their help even more, he could already feel the arguments, the promises that it would get better, that he just hadn't tried hard enough, that if they just kept going and kept fighting and kept trying eventually something would work, and they'd think it was something revolutionary and eye opening as if he hadn't heard the same bullshit a thousand times before.
It never worked. Nothing worked, no matter how much kindness he was given, no matter how much grace and patience and how many chances for improvement they got, she always ended back down where he belonged. But they weren't going to believe that, no matter what he said they wouldn't-
"Okay." He snapped his attention back to Rand, all the frustration and exhaustion giving way to pure confusion. Okay? He was just… agreeing with him? He wasn't going to fight, wasn't going to tell him she was wrong, wasn't going to try and convince him to give them a chance?
"What? What the fuck do you mean 'okay'?" It couldn't be that easy. Even if that was what Kian wanted, surely Rand wouldn't… he wouldn't just agree, right? They should have been happy at the thought, but all he could feel was dread. All that talk about how they wouldn't leave her to handle this shit alone, and the second he gave them a reason to give up, he'd just… take it?
She should have been expecting it, wasn't that what he kept fucking reminding himself of, they didn't care. Their 'love' for him was nothing more than pity. Maybe it made sense that being told the truth would make Rand accept defeat, even if he was always so fucking stubborn about everything else. Maybe deep down he also knew Kian wasn't worth it.
"I mean, okay, then you won't get better. You'll continue doing badly, continue feeling like shit, continue needing help and support and it'll never get better. Maybe it'll even get worse. And guess what? We'll still be here. We'll be here and we'll keep doing whatever we can to help, not because we're expecting you to be better, but because we fucking care about you."
…oh. It wasn't… he wasn't just accepting defeat after all. Kian shouldn't have felt relieved, that meant more arguing and more convincing and more trying when he didn't have the energy to, but… but the thought of Rand being so willing to just give up had simply been too painful. Knowing that wasn't it… it shouldn't have been a relief. It shouldn't have. She was so fucking selfish for being relieved about it. But he couldn't help it.
"But I- that's not- it isn't fair." Expecting them to keep caring for him for forever would be the most unfair, selfish thing he could ever do. What, she'd just get to lay in bed and do nothing while Rolan had to work and Rand had to take care of the house? That wasn't how things worked. If he couldn't take care of shit, couldn't cook or clean or work or any of the other shit they were expected to, then he didn't fucking deserve to enjoy the benefits of those things.
"You'd- hiveclick -do the same for us." She wished he could stop fucking picking up on that word within Rolan's clicking, he didn't want to understand any of it, didn't want the reminder of what he'd been, what he'd seen, what he'd lost. They wouldn't have a fucking hive, not now, not ever, she didn't deserve one.
"You don't know that." It was a weak argument, easily disproven and even more easily dismissed. Of course he would. Of course, if given the chance, they'd do anything he could to take care of his friends, even if she got nothing in return. But that wasn't the point, the point was that Kian didn't fucking deserve it. Rolan only saw her as hive because he'd fucking manipulated him into it, he didn't deserve it.
"Yeah, we do, dumbass, because we know you." Rand patted him on the head like he was a fucking dog—the actual dog was still laying at the end of the bed, watching their interaction with those big brown eyes of his. He hated how nice it made her feel, being treated in such a patronizing way. Why couldn't he just feel normal about something for once in their fucking life?
"We don't need you to get better, okay? We just- I just need you to stay this time. Even if- look, fucking obviously I want you to be happy, but it's okay if you can't be. So long as you're here." Why didn't they get it? Why didn't they fucking see that it wasn't right? Kian didn't deserve to just fucking get what she wanted, he had to fight for it, earn it, claw his way to it until his hands bled and his body ached. Nobody was going to just give them what he wanted, he didn't deserve that.
Why couldn't they just fucking see that already?
"You don't fucking get it, dude. I- for fuck's sake, I'm not letting this happen. I'm not- it isn't fair, it's not fair of me to just- just let you waste your time and energy caring for me and getting nothing in return!"
"Kian, we- clickhivecli -we want to do it. Please, just-"
"No, you don't! You- you fucking think I do because you feel bad! Because I- I've made you feel like you're responsible for me, and it's making you blind to the fact that I don't fucking deserve to be treated like that when all I've fucking done is make things worse!"
He'd tricked them, lied to them, manipulated them into thinking he was someone worth loving, someone worth being cared for. He wasn't even a real rockstar, the one fucking thing that could have redeemed her, that could have made them worthy of this, he hadn't even been able to achieve that. Just a failure, a pathetic, useless failure who had to lie and cheat to get anywhere in life.
"You don't- clickclick -have to deserve it."
"Yes I fucking do-"
"Listen to me. You- clickclickclickcli -you don't need to earn being cared for. You're our- clickhive -friend. You don't need to deserve us loving you or caring about you, we'll do it either way."
He wasn't even a rockstar. He was nothing, just a failure and a burden, but they wouldn't see that, wouldn't admit it, wouldn't give up. They were still right back where they started, with Kian unable to convince them of what she knew was true, and them willfully ignorant.
She was so fucking tired of it, so tired of fighting for nothing, so close to just giving up and giving them what they wanted but he couldn't. Couldn't be selfish, couldn't be a burden, couldn't be lazy and give up no matter how badly he wanted to, because he had to try, had to try to be good, had to try and help and make things better even when they only ruined everything further.
He couldn't give in, couldn't, because he knew how this ended. No matter what they said, eventually Rand would grow tired of picking up after Kian's uselessness, and Rolan would want someone actually worth something, and their care would shift into resentment and bitterness until they couldn't take it anymore. It was always the same, people could say whatever they wanted, but they never meant it. The two of them wouldn't be any different in the end. Kian couldn't let herself believe that they would be, couldn't handle the pain when he was proven right once again.
"It won't last." Kian was tired. Of the arguing, of pretending, of trying. They wanted truth? Wanted to know what he was thinking, what was wrong? Fine. Fine, he was too fucking tired to argue. Too tired to keep fighting and trying to convince them when it never fucking changed anything. They weren't going to listen, so what did it fucking matter?
"What's that supposed to mean?" It didn't matter what he said, they were never going to give up. This was exactly why he'd tried to just make them see the truth without having to actually say it, now that they knew what he wanted they were going to fight tooth and nail to make sure it would never happen. And Kian was supposed to keep fighting back, but God, she was so fucking tired.
"You'll see I'm right eventually, man. You think you're fucking special? You think nobody else has tried before? It won't fucking last, you'll give up eventually and you'll see that I was right. Everyone does, you already fucking did." The bitterness and hurt and everything else clawed its way up from his throat like a roach, and he knew he'd regret it later, would hate herself for talking to them like this, but he couldn't bring themself to care. He'd just find some way to punish herself like it would make anything better.
It wouldn't, because he never fucking learned, never grew, never improved. Just a failure, a waste of space, a liar who tricked people into thinking they could be loved. She deserved to be left alone. Deserved to suffer. Deserved all of it.
"You're the one who left me." Rand almost sounded angry. Fuck, could he just get angry already, please, it would be so much easier. If Rand would snap, and yell, and maybe even hit him, and he could lay there and take it and maybe use it all as inspiration for her sick fucking fantasies later. He didn't want to fight back anymore. He just wanted to sleep and never wake back up again.
"And? It's not like you gave a shit that I did."
"Fucking of course I did-"
"No, you didn't! If you cared, you would have at least tried, but guess what? You didn't. You didn't try to stop me, not when we were teens, not- not when I went to see Becky, you couldn't even fucking wait for me at the community house, so stop acting like it's gonna be any fucking different this time! Like it won't- like it won't end with- with Rolan fucking leaving again and you giving up on me like you always fucking do!"
Always the same, it was always the same, people left, or they gave up and let him leave instead, did it matter which one came first? It always ended the same, with her alone, with the person he was with worse off than before, it was always the same, and it was always her fault. And still, still he always fell for it. Fell for the kind words and promises of it being different and to the fantasies of a future he knew they didn't deserve. And still, it was always the same.
Rand and Rolan could say whatever they wanted, it would still end the same way, and if Kian let himself believe it wouldn't, she'd break. They didn't care. They didn't love him. He didn't deserve it, didn't deserve them, no matter what they said, no matter what they did, it was all a lie, it wasn't real, because Kian didn't deserve that, and they could say he didn't need to, but it wasn't true.
"Kian-"
"Shut up! Shut up, shut the fuck up! Stop trying to make me believe you, I won't! You never cared about me, never loved me, not like you- not how you care about him, I was always just fucking there! Just- just there to- to fill the silence, you don't care, you don't- you don't love me, you never- I was always just the fucking extra, the third one, the- the one you only included to complete the set instead of actually fucking wanting me there!"
"That's not true!"
"Yes, it is! You didn't even fucking care about having me back in Galloway, I know you didn't! You just invited me so- so you'd have an excuse to see him when he came back for the funeral! You didn't care when I left, you didn't even care when I fucking died! You- he left, and you just let me fucking go! You didn't even try, didn't tell me not to, didn't- didn't… you just- you just let me leave…"
He wanted to cry, but no tears came out, only pathetic sobs that shook his entire body. Rand didn't care, neither did Rolan, they didn't, they couldn't. Rand hadn't wanted him there, and if he had, he hadn't wanted her. He'd wanted Kian Stone, the successful rockstar, the person who made it, the person who deserved everything Kian didn't. And even then, even that version of him hadn't been enough, hadn't been enough for Rand to keep him around, so why would this one be? Why would she be?
If Kian as a teenager with a future ahead of him hadn't been enough for Rand, and neither was the pretense of a successful rockstar, then why the fuck would this Kian, broken and scarred and useless ever be enough? Why would it ever be different now? Why, he wanted to beg for an answer, an explanation, anything, why would it be different this time? They were too weak, he just needed something, a single excuse, a single lie to cling to. Something to believe, something to believe even though he knew it would break her.
"…I never wanted to let you go." Rand sounded broken, defeated, and Kian wasn't strong enough to look him in the eye, to see the pain he'd caused. He wanted to believe him. Wanted to fall for it, for the gentle lies that would no doubt break her. They wanted to give in. For once, maybe the first time in her life, he wished he were weaker.
"Then- then why the fuck did you?" The words were barely a whisper, they burned like a prayer on his tongue. Was it any different than praying to a God he knew could never love her, pleading for salvation he knew he could never deserve? Maybe it wasn't. Maybe thinking so was blasphemous. They couldn't find the energy to care if it was.
"Because fuck, Ki, what else was I supposed to do? You were- you were never going to stay. You could have never been happy in Galloway, you were too fucking bright for that shit-hole. I- God, I didn't fucking let it happen because I didn't care, or- or because I cared about Rolan more, it was- I- Jesus, I don't have the fucking words for this…"
"You thought- click -I'd stay."
"Yeah. I was- I was always going to fucking lose you, man, and I knew that. I had time to prepare for it, and I fucking hated it, but it was- it was just a fact. Rolan wasn't supposed to fucking leave, or at least- at least not like that. I thought I'd get to- to keep him, but I was never stupid enough to believe the same with you."
Did what Rand was saying make sense, or was she just trying to pretend it did because that was what they wanted? Of course the way he'd left had differed from Rolan, but was that enough to justify how differently Rand had reacted? Was it enough? Kian wanted to believe it was enough, but could he actually do so?
Rand's voice was even quieter, somewhere between gentle and mournful as he continued to speak. "You were always too fucking good for Galloway. Too bright, too big, too… you. I knew you wouldn't stay forever. And that- that even if you did, if I somehow convinced you to not leave, you would've been fucking miserable. And I know I'm a selfish prick, but I wasn't- I couldn't do that to you. I couldn't keep you somewhere you'd never be happy and where most of the fucking town would have wanted you dead if they knew you were a… fucking- you know, like… a sissy."
It was true, wasn't it? If all the shit with the bugs hadn't happened, if Rolan hadn't died… he probably would have stayed in Galloway, or at least wouldn't have left so suddenly. Kian, though, he'd always known he couldn't stay. Her dreams of stardom could never have come true there, and… it was true, the town wasn't safe for someone like her.
But Rand still didn't need to let him go. He could have come with them, Kian offered it, once, during that final summer they shared, high out of his mind in Rand's bedroom, he'd asked him to come to LA with him. And he'd refused, mumbled out excuses Kian couldn't even understand, and then never brought it back up again. She hadn't been worth leaving Galloway over, back then. But would Rolan have been, either? If he'd been the one to ask, if he'd wanted Rand in Chicago with him all those years ago… they couldn't imagine Rand agreeing. Nothing short of a miracle or the world nearly ending had been enough to make Rand leave.
But what was there to guarantee that something else couldn't change things again? Back then Rand's issues and the town they lived in meant they had no option but to separate. Who was to say it couldn't happen again? They weren't in Galloway, and… and Kian didn't have a good reason to leave, but things could change. Rand could get more ill again, could become apathetic and isolated again like he had been after Rachel. Something might drive Rolan away again, might make him leave and start over somewhere even further away. She couldn't guarantee that even if they meant what they said right now, that wouldn't change. Something always changed, something always went wrong. Always.
"And- and how am I supposed to believe that- that you won't- that you won't give up on me again?" It was a horrible question to ask, pathetic, needy, fishing for compliments and reassurance that he didn't deserve. But he couldn't help it, couldn't help it when Rolan's arms tightening around her felt life a lifeline, the gentle, deep buzzing forcing his heart to calm and their breathing to even out, when Rand's voice tethered him to reality, kept him from slipping into that nauseating nothingness that threatened to pull him under for the rest of time.
"I don't know. I don't even fucking know how to believe Rolan when he says he won't leave us again, but it's… that's okay. You don't need to believe it, you just- just stop fightin' us on it. I mean, you were always more of a lover than a fighter anyways." He had to keep fighting. Had to keep fighting, and surviving, and lying, because stopping meant death, or failure, or loneliness. She knew that, giving up never led to anything good.
But he was tired. So, so tired. Would dying really even be that bad at this point, when she had practically nothing to lose? The worst case if he gave in now was being abandoned and left alone again, but at least… at least this time he'd have nothing more to live for when it happened, right? Nothing more to cling to, no more excuses left to keep pushing their death until tomorrow.
Maybe he could give up. Stop fighting and finally just rest. And when everything went wrong, when she ruined everything like he always did, they'd be done. He'd finally let go. Didn't it sound nice? To finally stop trying? It did. It sounded like Heaven.
She gave a small nod, weak and exhausted just like him. It was selfish. It was wrong. Even if Kian had nothing left to lose, her friends did. He was going to hurt them, he was going to bring them down with him. It wasn't fair. But she was too tired to do the right thing, anymore.
Rolan buzzed behind him, promising safety, a home, a hive, and Kian knew they couldn't trust it, but he let it relax his body and mind anyways. Slowly, gentle at first, before growing firmer, Rand's arms wrapped around him from the front, pulling Kian's face into the crook of his neck. He smelled like weed and cheap cologne, and it was the nicest thing Kian had ever smelled.
"It's gonna be okay, rockstar. We've got you, and I'm- I'm not letting you go again." It wasn't true, and Kian knew that, but he didn't care. She could pretend, could give in and let himself believe their lies this one final time. It wouldn't last, but hey, at least there would be no reason to stay around after.