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[not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com]

Castle. Bar. In.

He had to come downstairs to eat something.

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[namo]

Not that Námo really wants to be downstairs, either, but he hadn't really moved since his conversation with Asar-Suti.

Which means he was still curled in the corner of his booth, thinking.

At least someone had cleared away the uneaten food.

His head lifts when he sees Lee; he watches him from the safety of his booth.

[not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com]

He's not paying attention. His head in in his hands and he's nursing a severe and very persistent headache.

[namo]

Tea would help that.

The cool sound of Námo's mind-voice is gentle.

[not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com]

The feel of it soothes his headache some, tension leaving his shoulders slightly.

[namo]

I believe that goo is not healthy for you.

There is a soft chuckle that passes with that.

[not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com]

There's a faint, faint hint of a smile.

[namo]

I am sorry, Lee. There is nothing more I can do or say. I--I dislike you being angry with me. I also dislike the other things I feel.

[not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com]

He says this hastily, wanting to establish that much as soon as possible. He cannot be angry at anyone right now, least of all someone he loves.

[namo]

There is a flicker in Námo's mind -- obviously stifled -- of disbelief.

He cannot help but think Lee will leave. Why would anyone say it if it wasn't true on some level?

Then what are you if not angry? You seemed quite angry a few nights ago...

[not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com]

His mindvoice is weary.

[namo]

And that weariness on furthers Námo's worry.

What can I do, love?

[not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com]

He has made up his mind to stop thinking about this altogether, and god damn it, he will. As soon as the migraine goes away.

He orders aspirin from the bar, swallows it dry and looks around to see where Namo is.

[namo]

He is huddled in the corner of a booth not too far off, his eyes the only visible over folder arms and long hair.

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

Gorlim. Nearby. Tossing button at Castle's head.

[not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com]

His head feels like someone is drilling a jackhammer directly into the back and both sides of it, and so the button goes unnoticed.

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

Gorlim frowns. He can tell there's something amiss through the bond, but he's gotten used to blocking that out; the way Lee and Namo fight, he'd be in danger of losing his mind if he didn't.

He gets up and wanders over.

"Hey, Lee," he says quietly. "What ensues?"

[not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com]

He hopes his migraine isn't bleeding through the bond.

He leans his head against Gorlim's arm.

"Just been thinking about a lot of things I don't want to be thinking about."

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

He smooths Lee's hair back and kisses his forehead.

"Bugger of a thing, that. Are you hungry at all?"

[not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com]

"Nah. But thanks." What he needs is a nap. A long, long nap.

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

Gorlim can sympathize with that. A lot.

He tugs Lee into his arms. "I don't suppose you would let me force-feed you strawberries just because you look like you could use something cheerful?"

[not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com]

Faint smile. "No strawberries. I think I'd puke."

But having Gorlim there is soothing.

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

"Is it that bad?" He looks worried now. "Are you ill, perhaps?"

[not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com]

"Gorlim, relax." He pulls his brother down onto a seat. "It's only a headache."

[gorlim.livejournal.com]

Gorlim plops down next to him. "All right, all right! I just had to ASK." He baps Lee lightly on the arm. "I suppose you did take medicine for it? You give me enough headaches already without having one through the bond, too."

He gives his brother a teasing grin. "Tell me, then, what is this nonsense you'd rather not think about that you are?" Maybe if he can make fun of it, it'll seem less headachy?

[not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com]

He holds up the bottle of aspirin in response to the first, and does not respond to the second at all. Not wanting to think about it means not wanting to talk about it, even to his brother.

"Some other time, maybe."