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“What on Earth is that?”
Thomas surveyed the Captain from his sighing spot as the Captain had asked him that question. The poet’s head felt thick and foggy, his eyes hardly able to stay open. His limbs were made of bricks. From an outside perspective, his shoulders were bowed, his hair was a mess, and his entire presence seemed not fully there. What is the Captain talking about? He thought to himself.
Thomas squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, drew out a breath, and looked back at the other ghost again. “...What?” he finally muttered.
“That!” The Captain pointed his swagger stick to Thomas’ right hand. “That mark! I haven’t seen it before.”
Oh. That.
Thomas hastily tucked his hand under his vest. The mark should have faded by now. Why hasn’t it faded by now? He was now becoming hyperaware of his appearance; oh, he probably looked a wreck. Why hasn’t he gone back to normal yet? “O-Oh! It’s nothing. I promise.”
“Don’t lie to me, Thorne. There’s definitely something there.” The Captain reached out his hand to pull Thomas’ arm back into view.
“Nonononono, please don’t, please–”
The Captain had already torn his arm away from his vest. Thomas was attempting to take it back, but he was feeling especially weak before the already stronger soldier. “Good Lord– is that a bite mark?” the Captain interrogated. “This looks recent. This has to be recent. What happened? Who did this to you? Are you hurt–?”
“Stop– please–” Thomas knew exactly what had happened, but the Captain’s rapid fire questions were piling onto him in a horribly suffocating way. Tears were beginning to prick at his eyes. He didn’t want to explain himself before, and he definitely wasn’t going to now.
The Captain ran a thumb over the mark. “This is so odd. What could have possibly–?”
Thomas had it. He let out a sob and snatched his hand back, stuffing it into his pocket and running off crying. He didn’t yet know where he was going. He just needed to be away.
☆☆☆
The Captain watched Thomas leave, absolutely perplexed as to what was going on. He had so many questions. All he knew was that it was not the first time he had seen Thomas cry like that. In fact, he still remembers the first time he witnessed it.
It was early in the afternoon when the Captain overheard Thomas sobbing in his room. He had no idea why Thomas was feeling so emotional, but he sounded absolutely awful. He was not only bawling his eyes out, but also letting out the most horrible, deeply saddening screams the Captain had ever heard. He felt like he just had to check in. Being a newer ghost, however, he was afraid he’d do something wrong with his limited knowledge of Thomas' emotions (and him as a whole). He frantically searched for the nearest ghost who might have known something, anything about Thomas.
“Robin, Robin,” he had finally found someone and was practically running up to him to catch his attention, “I have a question–it’s very important!”
“What? What?” The caveman replied. “Why you yelling so much?!”
The Captain, now recognizing (and a bit embarrassed about) his raised volume, cleared his throat and continued. “Thorne is in his room having a breakdown, and he sounds far from okay. I feel I should check in on him, but I don’t want to hurt him. What do you normally do when this happens?”
“Ohh… Yeah, he jus’ gets like that sometimes. Best leave him alone.” Robin shrugged, looking uninterested and beginning to walk away.
The Captain followed closely behind, eventually stepping in front of him. “What do you mean ‘he just gets like that sometimes’? This has happened before? Why don’t you guys… erm, do something?!”
“We tried!” Robin replied. “He gets real upset when people walk in on him while he’s crying.”
The Captain opened his mouth to cut in, but Robin interrupted him before he could. “We also tried askin’ him ‘bout it after… he never wants to talk!”
The Captain was highly doubtful that nothing could help Thomas. His first inclination was to step in and help someone who wasn’t okay, and Thomas was clearly suffering. “Are– are you sure I can’t help him out?” He was debating just trying anyway.
“‘M sure!” Robin confirmed. “‘S better to jus’ let him be.”
The Captain was ready to just walk off and not listen to Robin, but he truly considered it for a moment. As much as he hated to admit it, the other ghost knew much more about Thomas than he did. Did he really want to be known to Thomas as someone who made him more upset during one of his worst moments? The Captain let out a sigh. “Okay, fine. I’ll just leave him alone,” he said, going against his very instincts.
And now, The Captain was in a familiar state of helplessness over Thomas’ emotions. And after seeing the mark on his hand, he was even more concerned about the poet. If he looked as horrible as he did when the Captain saw him, the Captain could only imagine what was going on behind closed doors. He was desperate to know what (or who) was putting Thomas into such an awful state. It didn’t feel right to simply leave him feeling like that.
The Captain had to do something. He wasn’t going to let Thomas suffer.
☆☆☆
It was around 7:30 p.m. when Thomas was pacing the halls of the house. The soft tapping of his shoes against the wooden floor was quite soothing to him, especially after such a long and painful day. He was by himself, loosening his tense muscles and mind, until he heard another pair of footsteps nearby.
The poet snapped his head up, looking around for the origin of the new noise. His questions were answered when he noticed the Captain approaching him from the ballroom. His signature sense of importance in his walk was missing. Rather, his steps were slower and more drawn out, clearly having some care in them.
“Thorne?” he asked, his voice soft like his demeanor. “May I… may I ask you something?”
Thomas put his pacing to a halt. He was a bit anxious about what the Captain was going to ask him just then. After all of his intrusive questions a few hours ago (even if they did come from a place of concern), Thomas didn’t quite know if he could trust him. It took him a moment to answer. “Yes?”
The Captain breathed a sigh, tapping his swagger stick on his leg while he also hesitated to speak. “Actually, can we go to your room?”
Thomas agreed with a nod.
The two of them were now in Thomas’ room, the Captain seated on the edge of his bed and Thomas pacing back and forth in the extra space.
“Now,” the Captain began, resting his swagger stick on his thighs, “I’m not exactly sure how to– well–” the Captain was stuck stammering for a few more seconds before eventually, suddenly, “are you okay?”
What? Thomas stopped in his tracks again, narrowing his eyes at the question. That’s what he wanted to ask me? He thought to himself. “...Yes,” was his kneejerk response. Why would he answer otherwise?
The Captain breathed a sigh, leaning further forward in his seat. “You see, that’s not really the answer I was looking for, because we both know that’s not true. You need to be honest with me, and truly think about it, are you okay?”
Thomas was just about ready to repeat his simple ‘yes’, but the Captain was right. Thomas was lying through his teeth. He had spent most of the day sobbing in his room and recovering in the time he wasn’t. “This is about earlier, isn’t it?” he asked cautiously.
The Captain nodded softly. “Yes… Admittedly, I’m concerned. Concerned about the way you isolate yourself in your room and cry like that. And I know this has happened before. Many times.”
As the Captain was talking, Thomas stared at him with the same sort of spaced-out look he gave him earlier.
“I’ve been told to leave you alone while you’re upset, but I get so worried. Especially after seeing the mark on your hand–”
“I did that,” Thomas immediately interrupted.
The Captain blinked. “...What?” he asked with uncertainty.
Thomas nodded slowly, breaking eye contact, slipping his hands into his pockets, and beginning to rock back and forth on his feet. “I bite my hand when I’m in distress. I’ve done it my whole life. And death.” He noticed the Captain open his mouth to speak, so he cut him off once again. “It… it clears my head. I suppose. Though I’m unsure why.”
The Captain let out a deep sigh, tightening his grip around the swagger stick. “Hurting yourself like that cannot possibly be good for you. You know that, right?”
“I…” Thomas knew it didn’t end at biting. He also pulled at his hair. He also hit himself (which sometimes left some nasty bruises). He also screamed to the point of straining his voice. But he knew he could do that because nobody would notice. He knew that in just a few minutes after he was finished, his body would go back to normal and there’d be no evidence of what he had done to himself. That was until the Captain noticed him after a breakdown. Yes, Thomas did know everyone knew about his emotional outbursts, but it took until that day for the true extent of them to be revealed. Thomas felt exposed. Thomas felt humiliated. Thomas felt guilty. Thomas felt tears coming again, and he tried his absolute hardest to keep them in that time. He’d do anything to make himself not look bad again, even if his whole being wanted to be away, away, away. “I’m sorry,” was all he said. ‘I’m sorry’ was all he could manage to say. Why did he have to get like this? Why did–
“Thorne,” the Captain said carefully, pulling Thomas out of his head for a moment, “it’s okay. It’s okay. I promise you it’s fine.”
“It’s not…” Thomas shook his head, the breaking in his voice becoming more obvious. He clenched his hands in fists. “You said it’s not healthy–”
“That doesn’t make it your fault,” the Captain assured.
“What?”
That was a foreign concept to Thomas. Throughout all the time he had existed, he had been at fault for every wrong thing he had done. He couldn't see it any other way. If he was the direct cause for something, the blame was placed on him, from everything like dropping a glass or messing up table decorations or rocking in chairs. (Yes, it scuffed the floor up, but he loved doing it so much!) Even if something was a mistake or subconscious, it was his wrongdoing and therefore he’d receive the consequences. Hurting himself was no different. How wasn’t he at fault when the harm was at his own hands?
“Well, you clearly harm for a reason–being in distress… and you can’t control being distressed, can you?” the Captain said plainly. So plainly, like it was supposed to be common sense. It may have very well been obvious, but it wasn’t to Thomas.
“Oh.” Thomas didn’t have anything else to say. What was he supposed to say? Hands still in his pockets, he shuffled over to his bed and sat down next to the Captain. He awkwardly leaned close to him, not quite touching him just then.
They were both quiet for an uncomfortably long moment.
“...You want me to hug you, don’t you?” the Captain finally asked, softer than ever before.
Thomas gave a simple nod.
The Captain wrapped one arm around Thomas, securely (but not too tightly) holding him to his side. Thomas was at ease for the first time that day, feeling tension melting from his muscles and the weight lifting from his head. He completely collapsed into the Captain’s body, removing his hands from his pockets and resting them at his sides.
“We can discuss this tomorrow,” the Captain stated.
Thomas shook his head. Tomorrow was too soon. Tomorrow was scary.
“When you’re ready,” the Captain corrected. “Whatever we do, whenever we do it, all I want is for you to not be in so much misery. As much as I hate to admit it, it hurts me to see you cry like that.” A beat of silence. “Now listen, if you ever feel like you’re starting to feel overwhelmed–by your emotions or whatever is causing your breakdowns–please feel free to confide in me. It’s ultimately up to you if you want someone to go to, but I’m open. Is that alright?”
Thomas couldn’t be more grateful. He wanted to show his gratitude, but being low on words, all he could do was provide another nod.
The Captain set his swagger stick aside and put his full attention on Thomas. “For now, we rest. And… erm, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for pushing you past your limits. I need to learn to be less… obtuse. Frankly, with everyone, not just you.”
Thomas wasn’t upset by the Captain. At least not anymore. He had shown concern nobody else had shown for years. He lazily put an arm around the Captain’s shoulders.
“You’re probably exhausted, aren’t you?” the Captain chuckled gently, patting Thomas’ arm. “Do you want me to leave you alone so you can go to sleep early?”
Again, Thomas shook his head. He wasn’t quite ready to be by himself yet.
“Hm…” The Captain hummed in thought. “Do you want me to stay with you while you sleep, then?”
Now that sounded like a good idea. He slowly nodded once again and rolled back into the bed, spreading out into a proper sleeping position. The Captain stayed seated on the edge, giving a small grin that said ‘I’m here.’ Thomas couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle. He rarely saw the Captain smile.
There was a lull between them for a small while. The peaceful environment meant it didn’t take long for Thomas to fall asleep.
The Captain stayed seated on the edge of the bed for quite a bit longer. By the time Thomas was sleeping, the sun was barely down. The Captain watched the sky get fully dark, occasionally looking back at the sleeping ghost to ensure he was doing alright.
After some more time, he laid down next to Thomas, ready to rest as well. Before closing his eyes, he whispered a small, sweet ‘goodnight’ to the poet before falling asleep by his side.