[ peter had assumed that dylan knew he was there, given how he'd reacted, and he watches him in silence for a moment before leaning enough to bump their shoulders. ]
I told you I'd be there, so I was there. And yeah, wouldn't really call you a werewolf, but y'know, to each world its own. You chilled out when I was there. Stopped freaking out and settled down. Took a nice nap, actually. There was no mayhem after I poked my nose in. Came up and sat with you, even, once you settled and the rest figured you weren't gonna try and hurt anyone anymore. Caleb fussed a bit, but he trusts me to know what I'm about.
So from here, seems like you did pretty good to me. Nobody got hurt, and my wolf chills yours out for whatever reason. Maybe I'm just a chill kinda guy. You don't remember at all?
[ In the midst of all the depression that followed his transformation, this bit of information gives him an inkling of hope. He glances over at Peter in awe and then belatedly returns his cigarette to him since it's merely sitting there, burning away in his fingers. So there's something about Peter that can keep the worst of his impulses at bay -- that can keep him from hurting others. Maybe the monster inside of him can be controlled after all.
He looks away from Peter and swipes his forearm across his eyes. Dylan isn't necessarily someone who cries very easily. When he's afraid, yes. But he's not the sort to be moved to tears. Yet, fuck it all if this doesn't move him in some way. ]
Fuck. Sorry. Um.
[ He sniffles, swallows the emotion and glances toward a snowdrift. ]
I don't remember any of it. But knowing you could reach me in that state makes me feel like...maybe I'm not entirely lost, yanno? Maybe there's something of me in there. And that it's a real fucking good thing I met you.
[ Dylan reaches out to clasp Peter's free hand, clutching it in both of his as he pleads. ]
So I say this, without a single lick of pride -- I need your help. To figure this out. To get to a point where maybe I don't need to be chained. To regain control of my fucking life. I don't think I can do this without you, Peter...
[ peter lets dylan turn away to hide his tears, but it's not like he was going to comment on them regardless. he's not immune to the powers of a good cry. ]
You're not lost, you just don't know where you are yet. Know that sounds like bullshit, but so does lots of life. Even a vargulf doesn't lose themselves entirely, even if they're not quite there, either. If you'd really, really wanted to hurt someone, you'd have found a way. But you didn't.
[ there's no hesitation as he squeezes dylan's hand, holding the cigarette loosely in the corner of his mouth to put his other hand on top of the hands clutching his own. ]
Course I'm gonna help you. What do you think I've been doing? [ the chuckle he gives sounds almost...shy? embarrassed? clearly not mocking, at least. ] I'm not a hero, Dylan. I'm just a guy who gets wolfy on a regular basis and knows just enough shit to get in trouble and usually mostly out again. But we'll figure it out, okay? We'll figure it out.
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I told you I'd be there, so I was there. And yeah, wouldn't really call you a werewolf, but y'know, to each world its own. You chilled out when I was there. Stopped freaking out and settled down. Took a nice nap, actually. There was no mayhem after I poked my nose in. Came up and sat with you, even, once you settled and the rest figured you weren't gonna try and hurt anyone anymore. Caleb fussed a bit, but he trusts me to know what I'm about.
So from here, seems like you did pretty good to me. Nobody got hurt, and my wolf chills yours out for whatever reason. Maybe I'm just a chill kinda guy. You don't remember at all?
no subject
He looks away from Peter and swipes his forearm across his eyes. Dylan isn't necessarily someone who cries very easily. When he's afraid, yes. But he's not the sort to be moved to tears. Yet, fuck it all if this doesn't move him in some way. ]
Fuck. Sorry. Um.
[ He sniffles, swallows the emotion and glances toward a snowdrift. ]
I don't remember any of it. But knowing you could reach me in that state makes me feel like...maybe I'm not entirely lost, yanno? Maybe there's something of me in there. And that it's a real fucking good thing I met you.
[ Dylan reaches out to clasp Peter's free hand, clutching it in both of his as he pleads. ]
So I say this, without a single lick of pride -- I need your help. To figure this out. To get to a point where maybe I don't need to be chained. To regain control of my fucking life. I don't think I can do this without you, Peter...
no subject
You're not lost, you just don't know where you are yet. Know that sounds like bullshit, but so does lots of life. Even a vargulf doesn't lose themselves entirely, even if they're not quite there, either. If you'd really, really wanted to hurt someone, you'd have found a way. But you didn't.
[ there's no hesitation as he squeezes dylan's hand, holding the cigarette loosely in the corner of his mouth to put his other hand on top of the hands clutching his own. ]
Course I'm gonna help you. What do you think I've been doing? [ the chuckle he gives sounds almost...shy? embarrassed? clearly not mocking, at least. ] I'm not a hero, Dylan. I'm just a guy who gets wolfy on a regular basis and knows just enough shit to get in trouble and usually mostly out again. But we'll figure it out, okay? We'll figure it out.