Seamus Finnigan (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} openbottle) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} finnigans_rpg, |
For a moment after Dean finished, Seamus was paralysed. He didn't know who to be - Seamus who lead Battlescars and had a responsibility to this entire group, or Seamus who was Dean's best mate. The first felt like a bad act and the second didn't feel like enough. It was far from the first time someone had broken down in Battlescars, but usually they'd had a friend close by who could wrap an arm around them and offer them a tissue. Seamus knew if anyone tried to sling an arm around Dean's shoulders right now, he'd probably go into a full on PTSD episode.
Without ever consciously making a decision, Seamus found he'd stood and crossed the circle to kneel at Dean's feet, his fingers wrapped around whatever bit of Dean he could reach - one knee and one elbow. "Hey," he said. "Look at me." Just like that, he had a better idea of what to do and had forgotten that everyone was likely watching them. "Do you need to go upstairs? There's one of your candles by my bed." Seamus had 'borrowed' it the night before in a failed and futile attempt to get some sleep.
What he really wanted to take Dean upstairs himself, to make sure he was okay, but he knew he couldn't, not right now. Dean wasn't the only one who needed a chance to speak today - and Seamus didn't feel like he could leave. He glanced across at Susan, silently asking if she'd be okay to take Dean upstairs, if that was what Dean wanted.