crash and burn. [blane rekner]

synopsis: featuring a 'you came' Blane and a 'you called' hunter.

Blane is dry heaving. Their vision is blurry, spots dancing around the blurry objects in front of them. A bookshelf. An abandoned tablet. A hand that they know should be theirs, though it feels heavier than any limb in their body. It can't be theirs, can it?

They drag themself to the wall, pressing their back against the peeling paint and soaking in the cold. A window, right above them. The outside world, just beyond this mixture of wood and plaster and whatever else was used to construct this damn building.

They fumble for their phone. They might pass out. They might just die here.

A green messaging app. Fingers tapping the last chat they had. Hands shaking as they slowly type out something they hope makes sense. A blue send button. Collapsing on the floor.

Blane curls in on themself, knowing that no one would even think to enter this side of the Media Room—half the employees don't even know this section is here. Breathe in. Breathe out. Don't think. Don't spiral into thoughts that you know will only make things worse.

They don't know how much time passes until they hear footsteps coming.

Blane doesn't know who they called. They have few contacts and even fewer that they text, so whoever it is, it'll be someone they trust. Even Devereux has somehow made it on that list, though they're sure they're at the bottom of their texts—the last time the two spoke was because one was wondering where the other was. N knows about their panic attacks. It would be easy if it were them. They text their partner the most often out of everyone, though they have a feeling that N wasn't the last person they texted. K and Rylan—it wouldn't be them. Blane doesn't mind the two, but they're not particularly close. Which leaves…

You round the corner and see Blane on the floor, jacket draped over them like a blanket, body shivering despite it. It's not the greatest of covers, they'll admit, but it was the only one they had close enough to grab before the panic attack hit them.

Before the world came crashing down and they thought about how fucking shitty everything is. Everything has gone to fucking shit and they're no exception.

Their throat clogs up.

You approach them like you would a stray animal, hand outreached and posture unsure. Blane watches you, knowing how pathetic they look and how easy it would be to scare you off like this. The cruel and cold Blane Rekner, brought to their knees by anxiety and self-deprecating thoughts.

"Blane," you whisper.

They cringe at the noise, curling in deeper. You hesitate but move in closer, your hand slowly coming closer until it touches their bicep. Blane's eyes flutter at the contact. Something to ground them. Something to make them feel less like they're floating outside their body and more like they're… here. With you.

"Blane."

Blane looks up, vision clearing. They hate the worry on your face. Hate knowing that they caused it and hate seeing their reflection in your eyes. They shrink away at the sight of themself, but you hold tight. Grounded again. An anchor pulling their boat back to shore.

"You…" Blane breaks off, their voice hoarse. You wait patiently, eyes imploring but kind. They wish they had eyes like that. "You came. You came for me."

You smile. "Of course. You called."

Two words. A simple nine letters but it's their undoing. Blane, who normally hates close contact and physical touch, collapses into you. Your chest is warm as their body shakes, sobs wrecking their body. No tears ever come, but they know that if they fell, you wouldn't judge them. Not here, not ever.

"You came," Blane repeats. It plays in their head like a mantra.

You came. You came. You came.

They didn't have anyone like this before they transferred to this institute. And when they did, it was only one person. They never expected that number to ever grow. It'd be egotistical for them to ever think so but selfishly, they wished. They wished and it came true.

You stroke their hair, the touch more soothing than they'll ever admit. "You called, Blane. I'm here. I'll always be here if you call."

Blane lets their defences fall. The world falls back into place but the part of them that they always suppress when they see you comes crashing down. Feelings that have been there for ages but ones that they know they'll never have the courage to act on.

I really do like you. It's okay if you don't like me back but… do you like me too?

They don't dwell on the idea for too long. For now, they focus on your embrace and your soft murmurs and your presence. Because you came, you came and that's more than enough.