He shot a questioning look back at Sam, but didn't dare take his eyes off Initiate for long. Did Sam know what was up? Did this have to do with Helmsman's leaving? No, that didn't make sense, no one forced Initiate to self-medicate. The way Initiate reacted, it was like some old fear rearing its head.
Psii knew that feeling. He'd seen the worst in trolls, the damage they caused one another. He grew up among broken souls, being told by friends and enemies alike to walk it off and stop crying like a wiggler. Signless had taught him better since, but the scars remained. Psii thought of Initiate's avoxing in relation to his own enslavement, but he didn't immediately connect that to the present. He didn't have Signless or Dolorosa's knack for empathy, not without knowing the complete story. He only knew it had something to do with morphling or needles, and wanting only to do it himself.
Psii kept quelling himself to retain some semblance of function. His own torrent of emotions was sure to come back to bite him in the ass later. His voice grew markedly more level, uncannily so.
"It'll only take two thecondth if you hold thtill and let me do it right." The needle pressed through Initiate's skin with but a light touch. He spoke swiftly again, afraid of giving Initiate time to really panic. If he and Sam kept talking, maybe they could distract him enough. "Lithten to Sam. He'th your friend, he careth about you. And think of SS—Kankri, imagine he'th here now worrying hith nubth off, I thwear he'th going to give himthelf an ulther one of thethe nightth...."
For a few agonizing seconds, Psii pressed slowly on the plunger. He was tempted to inject and pull away faster, but he knew if he screwed this up, he'd have to stick him again. Finally it was done, and he pressed the band-aid to Initiate's arm. He kept his hand there on that clammy skin to staunch any bleeding, but also to remind Initiate of his presence. This was now, not whatever "then" that was haunting him.
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Psii knew that feeling. He'd seen the worst in trolls, the damage they caused one another. He grew up among broken souls, being told by friends and enemies alike to walk it off and stop crying like a wiggler. Signless had taught him better since, but the scars remained. Psii thought of Initiate's avoxing in relation to his own enslavement, but he didn't immediately connect that to the present. He didn't have Signless or Dolorosa's knack for empathy, not without knowing the complete story. He only knew it had something to do with morphling or needles, and wanting only to do it himself.
Psii kept quelling himself to retain some semblance of function. His own torrent of emotions was sure to come back to bite him in the ass later. His voice grew markedly more level, uncannily so.
"It'll only take two thecondth if you hold thtill and let me do it right." The needle pressed through Initiate's skin with but a light touch. He spoke swiftly again, afraid of giving Initiate time to really panic. If he and Sam kept talking, maybe they could distract him enough. "Lithten to Sam. He'th your friend, he careth about you. And think of SS—Kankri, imagine he'th here now worrying hith nubth off, I thwear he'th going to give himthelf an ulther one of thethe nightth...."
For a few agonizing seconds, Psii pressed slowly on the plunger. He was tempted to inject and pull away faster, but he knew if he screwed this up, he'd have to stick him again. Finally it was done, and he pressed the band-aid to Initiate's arm. He kept his hand there on that clammy skin to staunch any bleeding, but also to remind Initiate of his presence. This was now, not whatever "then" that was haunting him.