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[vecna]

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[striketwice]

[ He piles the bits of glass on the counter, hand dipping into the sink to pick up a sliver that slides out of Henry's palm under the water. ]

I don't think you could ignore him if you tried. You don't seem the type.

[ The low, stormy glow of Alec's magic begins to fill the space as he etches a series of runes over the broken bits. ]

I'm just saying maybe don't go so fucking hard when you're the only one with anything to lose.

[vecna]

[The water stings, stings, stings, but the blood washes away easily enough, drawn down the drain with it. The only one with anything to lose. Today proved that Henry could throw heavy objects at Steve all day, and he would be the only one to suffer from overexertion. A bloody nostril within the first few attempts.

Turning his hand over in the water again, he finally shuts the faucet off with the other, reaching for a dishtowel. It's fine if that gets a little bloody, who cares.]

So what, a middle ground? Hover around him and make him uncomfortable?

[Wry. But also. He could.]

[striketwice]

[ Alec casts the other man a small smirk. ]

I dunno, man. He's your nemesis or whatever the fuck.

[ Your teenaged nemesis.

The spellwork suddenly dissipates, and the broken glass mends itself back together with a soft sound of the pieces clinking. It's like Henry never smashed the thing at all. ]

[vecna]

Nemesis?

[Drying his hands with vigor.]

Don't give him so much credit.

[The soft clink of glass mending itself back together draws his attention back down to... Well, his glass.

Good as new. That's different.]

...He's a pest with a baseball bat.

[striketwice]

Nah. He's more than a pest. That's not a diatribe you give a pest.

[ He just takes the good-as-new glass and shoves it in the dishwasher. ]

[vecna]

[He gives Alec a thin, facetious smile.]

He's only human. He'd be inconsequential without his friends to help him; or in this case, without his possession.

[A PEST, just a very stubborn one.]

[striketwice]

Whatever you say, Henry.

How's your hand?

[vecna]

[He holds it up, palm out. The skin around the cut is swollen and red like all fresh wounds have a tendency to be; the cut itself is eking a little blood.]

Stings.

[He's had worse. The whole team's had worse. It's worth the minor meltdown.]

[striketwice]

I guess it could be worse.

[ A mild shrug. ]

Just maybe try not to break our shit next time. I don't know if the powers that be will give us extras.

[vecna]

You're complaining about me breaking one glass when you literally put it back together with your magic, Alec?

[Honestly, be glad he didn't level the whole cupboard.]

[striketwice]

[ He is glad he didn't do that!! ]

Mending isn't exactly my strong suit. Any more than that and I probably can't fix it.

[vecna]

That sounds like a deficiency of yours, not mine.

[If he's casually sniping back and forth like this, at least it's a sign that Alec has reeled him back into vague normalcy again.]

[striketwice]

I'm only one man. I can't know all the magic there is to know.

[ Alec shrugs. Henry might recall that this sort of magic was a specialty of Alec's dad. Useful as it is, it's probably a bit. Fraught.

And yay for him. He'll add "bringing Henry Creel back from the brink" to the list of talents he didn't know he had. ]

[vecna]

[Yes, he does. That word that wove through his mind during his little dip into Alec's past -- Mending. He imagines it's not a magic he particularly wants to focus on, at least not enough to put back together a cupboard full of broken glass.]

We can't all be perfect.

[Right, Henry.

Speaking of trips down memory lane-]

How are you feeling, by the way?

[striketwice]

[ Ah. Alec could dodge that question, but at this point, why bother? ]

After the other day? Fine, I guess.

I really wasn't ready for how shitty that would make me feel.

[vecna]

I suppose I should have warned you that it would be like reliving a memory all over again.

[The lilt of his tone implies that he really did not consider that; this only comes to him belatedly.]

I think you're taking it well, actually.

[Or he puts up a strong front. That's more likely.]

[striketwice]

[ In fairness, he did talk about reliving memories before, Alec just never put two and two together. ]

Shit sucks, but I've had longer than most to deal, I guess. That was, what? Forty five years ago.

[vecna]

Being an old man [yes he called you an old man] doesn't mean grief loses its edge so easily. He was your father, after all.

[striketwice]

Yeah, well. I'll deal. I always do.

[vecna]

[Henry's very good at digging up the worst emotions in another person's head. He's not quite sure he buys such a dismissive answer.

But maybe that's a good segue into another question he never got a chance to ask.]

...Why did you let me do it? Visit one of your worst memories?

[striketwice]

[ Alec does always deal. Perhaps not in the best or most healthy way. He's been doing it for decades, shoving all that nasty stuff beneath his mask of cutting sarcasm and engineered cockiness. It's what he does.

His gaze flicks over to Henry. ]

Temporary insanity, maybe? I really don't know. It just kind of felt like after all the stuff you told me, it was something you should see.

[vecna]

[Truth for truth. And, though Henry still cannot bring himself to see it that way, vulnerability for vulnerability.]

“Temporary insanity.” So you regret it? For how it’s made you feel?

[striketwice]

[ That gives Alec pause. Does he regret it? He always knew that if, for some anomalous reason, someone were to get close enough to learn the truth of his past and all the things he'd done, it would hurt. And this fucking hurts.

But it hurts in the same way it always has. The pain he felt yesterday was no different than the pain he'd felt years ago. There's nothing new here, apart from there being someone who's seen him for what he is and hasn't shied away from it. ]

... No. I don't think I do.

[vecna]

[For what reason would Henry shy away? He is just as bad, done reprehensible things without even a mote of regret or guilt. To find someone else who’s cut from the same cloth is so, so rare — and he’s the opposite of repulsed. He is inherently drawn to it, the same way he would have been drawn to it twenty-seven years ago if he had ever found someone like him.

Well. Maybe not exactly the same way.

 I don't think I do. That fixation’s flaring up fast and hot again, and Henry tilts his head, assessing that reply, turning those succinct words over and over in his mind. And, in a way strikingly similar to how he touched him in Alec’s memory, he reaches out again. Left hand, the one with the stinging cut still eking crimson. He places long fingers along the curve of man’s jawline, letting his hand slot slowly against the shape of his face.

Blood smears against skin. It's warm.]

It’s a shame you come from universes away. That you never resided in my world, that I never got to meet you years and years ago. [Red-blue eyes look at him like a curiosity. They nearly look through him.] I wonder how things might have turned out differently.

[striketwice]

[ And just like that, something in the atmosphere shifts. Maybe it was some misguided sense of connection that allowed Alec to let a man like Henry into his head in the first place, let him see the darkest day of his life. Now that link hums between them, like a live wire. Electric.

This time when Henry's fingers brush against his face, he doesn't flinch. He's not young and broken like he was in that memory. Well, certainly still broken, but it's different now. Now he wields his broken edges like a weapon, much in the same way that Henry does. He's still under that touch, quiet, like he often is when just observing. Like he was moments before as Henry spit venom and crushed a glass with his bare hand.

Henry's palm is still bleeding, painting a red streak against his skin. Alec's hand comes up to curl around his wrist, though he simply holds it there, fingers on the other man's pulse. ]

Henry...

[ It's half warning, half... something else that Alec's not sure he could name if he tried. Those mismatched eyes bore a hole right into him, and Alec stares back, the low glow in his own eyes flickering. Lightning, trapped behind the storm clouds. What would things have been like, had they known each other a lifetime ago? Maybe they would have saved each other, slotted their broken pieces together into something a little more whole and acceptable. Or maybe they would have just sent each other spiraling faster, farther. There's no way to know. ]