hr lawrence

henry richard lawrence - but just call me hr. 21, submissive and new student at st. brendan's.

[stbheadmaster]

PM: Headmaster? I know things are probably insane for you right now, and I'm so glad you're all right, but have... have you heard anything about Miss Jaime?

PM: Good morning, HR.

Yes, I received an email from her sister yesterday. Miss Kehoe was air-lifted down to a specialty center in Boston, and is dealing with a traumatic brain injury. My understanding is that she ought to be fine once the swelling is under control, but she may be experiencing some temporary memory loss in the meanwhile.

Would you like her sister’s contact information? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind sending updates to all of us who are concerned about Jaime.

[subhrlawrence-blog]

PM: Temporary? Are they sure it’s only temporary?

I... sorry, Sir. Thank you. Yes, I would like that please. I’m trying to keep Miss Erica as updated as I can about everyone. Especially Miss Jaime.

[thewrathofawright]

Lost Stars | HENRICA

[subhrlawrence-blog]

deviiousqueen:

“Jaime,” Another name to remember. Another person that apparently cared for her. Even if she didn’t know these people, she was at least starting to put some of the pieces of the puzzle in place. She didn’t even know if HR was right about it or not. Maybe there was someone else. “I don’t… is she okay?” 

She frowned again at HR’s explanation. So she was a rough person? She felt nothing but fragile right now. She hadn’t complained or turned away help while in hospital, and she hadn’t been angry with anyone. Just frustrated by her own self. “… Did I hurt you?”

Charlie. Finally, something clicked. She knew that name. She’d said it so many times in the past; she could feel the emotion in her voice as she said the name. Sadness. Hurt. Betrayal. Love. “A long time.” Her voice was hollow as she took a moment to try and bring back those flashes of memories, make out a face, make out anything, but it wouldn’t come to her. But Charlie and the sandy-haired man were one and the same. That much she knew.

Her smile grew as she realised that she’d gotten something right. She’d remembered something right. “A found family. People to love.” She had to look away for a moment, realising her eyes were starting to sting with tears. Why had that made her sad? “I can’t– I can’t even find myself. I don’t know who Erica was. … I don’t know who I was. Do you think you could–?” The correction at the end made her feel so strange. What if she’d been cruel, horrible, rude? What if that was why Charlie had left? What if that was why she didn’t have any family to speak of that had come down to visit her?

Would she want to be the person that everyone had said she was before?

He swallowed hard. “I don’t know, Miss. I think I... heard she went to the hospital. But I don’t know which one,” HR admitted. He needed to find out, he absolutely did, because Erica and Jaime belonged together. Erica needed Jaime. 

His eyes went wide, and he shook his head. “No. No, Miss, you didn’t hurt me. It was rough, yes, but I wanted it. I wanted every moment I had and will have with you. I swear, you’ve never hurt me,” HR promised her, leaning closer in his fervor to convince her that maybe she’d inflicted physical pain, but she’d never really hurt him.

His head dipped in a nod. “Yes. I... it hasn’t been long since I’ve known you, but you and Charlie go back a long time.” His voice cracked on the switch’s name, and he had to look away to keep from crying. How different would it be with him here? Would he be with HR, helping Erica find herself again? Or would he be in another room, forcing the sub to split his attention between the two? He shook his head, not wanting to think about the man he still loved like this. That would be something he couldn’t handle.

HR got up, bringing both hands to cup Erica’s cheeks gently, mindful of her injuries. “I will. I’ll help, Miss. Everyone who loves you will. We’ll find you again, I swear.” Carefully, he leaned in, brushing his lips lightly against hers, hoping the action wasn’t something that would make her more upset. “You’re not alone in this, my Miss. You’re pretty stuck with me.”

[thewrathofawright]

Lost Stars | HENRICA

[thewrathofawright]

subhrlawrence:

HR nodded. “I don’t… I haven’t heard from anyone else yet. I tried to text Miss Jaime but I haven’t… everyone is kind of scattered since it happened. I’m trying to find out though.” He felt his lips twitch. “Yeah. HR is better. Otherwise I think you’re mad at me.”

Sad brown eyes regarded her, though the light shone a bit brighter when she seemed to lean into his hand. He kept his palm curled around her cheek, holding her the only way he could. “Yes. Yes we did. We’ve kissed and… done other things.” He didn’t know if he should tell her she was the only woman, the only person he’d ever made love to. Maybe it would be too much for her - and it would kill him because she couldn’t remember.

“I hope you did.” HR swallowed hard. “We both… loved someone else. The same man. He left,” he said, his voice hitching. “And we… we found comfort in each other. You called me your darling. Yours. And you’re my Miss. You have someone else too, and me, we’re… we’re open. We can see others. But we’re together.”

“I’m not mad at you,” She started, her brow furrowing as she tried to imagine herself getting upset with such a sweet person. It didn’t seem like it would ever happen. “Who’s Jaime?”

“… Done other things,” Sex. They’d slept together. Were they together? Was she the type of person to sleep with anyone? How could she know? Bringing her hand up to place it over HR’s, she buried her face as best she could for a moment, then taking a breath and asking more questions. There were always more questions. “Can you tell me about it?”

“I must have. I feel like I did…” She sighed, listening to his explanation. “A man? Which man? We both– loved him?” Who was HR talking about? They’d shared someone. Someone that had left them. Maybe she’d already blocked it from her memory before everything had happened; but a flash of a lopsided, goofy grin, sandy hair and eyes like the summer sky still ran through her head. “… I loved him.” She quietly said. She had more questions about the man, but… something stopped her from asking. It was too much at once.

“… We’re together?” It was a hopeful tone this time. She must have done something truly great to have someone so gentle love her. So have someone so kind want to be with her. “… I’m your Miss,” She repeated it more for herself than for HR, trembling slightly as she processed the fact that she did, in fact have someone out there that knew her, that cared about her, that wanted to be here with her.

“Polyamorous,” The word jumped into her mind without really thinking about it, and she nodded decisively as she remembered exactly what it meant. “We’re together and polyamorous.” She managed a half-smile at that, looking over to HR, feeling more at ease with him than any nurse or doctor in this hospital. “That’s really nice. I like that.”

[subhrlawrence-blog]

“I know, Miss. it’s just that people use my given name when they’re upset so that’s why I go by HR most of the time,” he explained. How could he describe who Jaime was when he barely knew himself? “She’s... yours. Your submissive. Girlfriend. I’m not sure what you two use to describe but she’s yours. And I don’t know where she is. I’m trying to find out.”

He stroked his thumb over her cheek softly, a loving caress. “We - the first time was gentle. It was- it was my first time,” HR admitted softly. “Other times it wasn’t so gentle but it was incredible to be with you. To be what you needed.”

His eyes stung again thinking about Charlie, and he sucked in a breath, determined not to cry. “Yes. For a long time, you loved him. You still do. He’s... he’s impossible not to love.”

“Yes. Yes,” he said with a smile, encouraging. She remembered. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. “Yes we are. I do too, Miss. you once said we were looking for our family. For people to love, together. A found family. We found each other once... I’ll find you again, Miss. I promise,” HR vowed, his voice cracking on the words.

[roxygilmour]

Text: Miss? Will you be.. around, later?

Text: Of course, Tresor. I’m just dropping some flowers off in the hospital rooms of all the people from St. Brendan’s (the rooms that will allow them, at least) and then my afternoon is… free.

[roxygilmour]

subhrlawrence:

Text: Okay. I’m sorry, Miss, I know you’re dealing with a lot, I just - I need you for a minute.

Text: You never have to apologize for needing me, Tresor. I can always make time.

[subhrlawrence-blog]

Text: Thank you, Miss.

[roxygilmour]

Text: Miss? Will you be.. around, later?

Text: Of course, Tresor. I’m just dropping some flowers off in the hospital rooms of all the people from St. Brendan’s (the rooms that will allow them, at least) and then my afternoon is… free.

[roxygilmour]

subhrlawrence:

Text: She doesn’t remember anything. She doesn’t… remember who I am.

Text: I’m still at the hospital. In the waiting room. I can’t… I can’t stop crying, Miss, I don’t know how to help her.

Text: Oh Tresor… I’m so sorry.

Text: Give me just a moment to drop off this last vase of flowers and I will come to you. We will figure out how to help get her memory back, okay? Even if we have to work with her every day.

[subhrlawrence-blog]

Text: Okay. I’m sorry, Miss, I know you’re dealing with a lot, I just - I need you for a minute.

[roxygilmour]

Text: Miss? Will you be.. around, later?

Text: Of course, Tresor. I’m just dropping some flowers off in the hospital rooms of all the people from St. Brendan’s (the rooms that will allow them, at least) and then my afternoon is… free.

[roxygilmour]

subhrlawrence:

Text: I went to see Miss Erica this morning and I just… really need a hug.

Text: Oh Tresor.. how is she?

Text: Are you still at the hospital or are you at home?

[subhrlawrence-blog]

Text: She doesn’t remember anything. She doesn’t... remember who I am.

Text: I’m still at the hospital. In the waiting room. I can’t... I can’t stop crying, Miss, I don’t know how to help her.

[roxygilmour]

Text: Miss? Will you be.. around, later?

Text: Of course, Tresor. I’m just dropping some flowers off in the hospital rooms of all the people from St. Brendan’s (the rooms that will allow them, at least) and then my afternoon is… free.

[subhrlawrence-blog]

Text: I went to see Miss Erica this morning and I just... really need a hug.

[thewrathofawright]

Lost Stars | HENRICA

[thewrathofawright]

subhrlawrence:

He wished he could be better at this. His heart felt like it was going to crack open and bleed, watching his Miss struggle with her memory like she was. Head injuries weren’t something to mess with, he knew that. But Erica was a goddess in his eyes. Indestructible and beautiful, strong as iron and beautiful as a diamond.

“You tried to,” he said softly. “You tried and something… fell on you. That’s how you got hurt.” He sucked in a shaking breath. “Yes. HR. Henry Richard.” The jumble of memories wasn’t something he could help her remember, not with more specifics. But the other question…

“You have friends. You have people who love you, Miss. many people. Leroy and Jaime and Leah, so many others. You are loved,” he assured her. HR paused, biting the inside of his lip. It would be easy to lie and say she did. But even like this, she had a power over him. He couldn’t lie to her. “I don’t know if you do, Miss. you’ve never… said. The circumstances of our relationship are unconventional at best.” He reached up, gently touching her cheek. “I do know that I love you though.”

“Other people got hurt too?” She asked, though she should have guessed. With her situation, it was most likely that others were in a situation similar to her own.

“Henry Richard.” That was far more awkward rolling off the tongue. Like she’d never said it before. “HR sounds better.” She mumbled, though even that felt wrong. Even in this state, she knew it wasn’t a name she used for him.

Leroy. Jaime. Leah. She wished those names meant something to her, just like she wished that she could remember who HR was to her. But there were people that apparently knew her, that cared about her. “Where are they?” The question was kind of stupid, considering what had gone down, now explained to her by her companion. Did they get hurt too? She didn’t know. She had no understanding of any of this.

“Maybe I did,” She finally replied. “I could have.” She sighed, defeated by the fact that she couldn’t even pull a single memory out of the locked box they seemed to be in.

The touch was soft; and with it came with a flash of another image. “We– we kissed,” Without really meaning to, she leant into HR’s touch, like she had been craving it. It didn’t matter whether or not she could recall the details, she could tell there was something here, with the boy.

“If you love me… then I must have loved you too.” She concluded, turning her head in, to brush her nose against HR’s palm. It was an instant relaxant for her, the gentle caress. “Even if I didn’t say it, I must have.”

“Why are we unconventional?” She murmured, unaware that she’d said it out loud until her brain, still working slow registered that she had.

[subhrlawrence-blog]

HR nodded. “I don’t... I haven’t heard from anyone else yet. I tried to text Miss Jaime but I haven’t... everyone is kind of scattered since it happened. I’m trying to find out though.” He felt his lips twitch. “Yeah. HR is better. Otherwise I think you’re mad at me.”

Sad brown eyes regarded her, though the light shone a bit brighter when she seemed to lean into his hand. He kept his palm curled around her cheek, holding her the only way he could. “Yes. Yes we did. We’ve kissed and... done other things.” He didn’t know if he should tell her she was the only woman, the only person he’d ever made love to. Maybe it would be too much for her - and it would kill him because she couldn’t remember.

“I hope you did.” HR swallowed hard. “We both... loved someone else. The same man. He left,” he said, his voice hitching. “And we... we found comfort in each other. You called me your darling. Yours. And you’re my Miss. You have someone else too, and me, we’re... we’re open. We can see others. But we’re together.”

[thewrathofawright]

Lost Stars | HENRICA

[thewrathofawright]

subhrlawrence:

HR couldn’t bring himself to talk. To watch her struggle like she was, to form words, it broke his heart. She was the strongest, fiercest woman he had ever known, and it was a slap in the face to see her so… broken.

He nodded, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. Hopefully his glasses would cover the shimmer of tears lingering in his dark eyes. “There was - a fire. An explosion. Someone tried to burn down the school. St. Brendan’s,” he clarified. “We are students there. And you went back in to try and help and… that’s how you got hurt,” he told her gently, wishing he could touch her somehow.

A fire. And an explosion. At… “St. Brendan’s?” Students… It was a school. She went to school? How old was she? She didn’t feel like she should be in school. ”Why did–” But she stopped asking the question as soon as she started. HR wouldn’t know. Would he?

“I went back in?” None of what HR was saying made much sense to her. Why would she go into a wrecked building? “I don’t… remember. Did I help people?” She queried, searching her mind for some sort of understanding of the information.

“The doctors– said something. I hit my head and– now I can’t remember. They told me it was bad… They– …” She couldn’t even remember what they had told her. They’d talked about all these terms, conditions. Regardless, if she remembered them, she probably wouldn’t know what they meant.

“Are we friends?” She asked hesitantly, her gaze dropping as the question slipped out. She just wanted to know. “You’re HR. And called ‘my darling’.” She wasn’t even sure if she was saying it to try and commit it to memory, or to add to her question. “I– remember… smiles. Faces. Kissing. Laughing. Crying. Yelling. Anger. I remember being angry. Hate… Hurt… Lots of blood.” She wasn;t sure if those flashes were true memories. She couldn’t tell. She couldn’t understand it at all.

“Do I have friends? Do I have family?” It was a stupid question to ask, but she didn’t know what else to say. “I remember hurt. Crying. But I also remember– loving people. … I don’t know who I loved.” Her cognition was returning quicker than she’d expected, words coming easier as she talked. It had taken hours for her to recover part of her vocabulary, though it was still simple. “… Did I love you?” A simple, naïve question. Could HR even give her an answer?

[subhrlawrence-blog]

He wished he could be better at this. His heart felt like it was going to crack open and bleed, watching his Miss struggle with her memory like she was. Head injuries weren’t something to mess with, he knew that. But Erica was a goddess in his eyes. Indestructible and beautiful, strong as iron and beautiful as a diamond.

“You tried to,” he said softly. “You tried and something... fell on you. That’s how you got hurt.” He sucked in a shaking breath. “Yes. HR. Henry Richard.” The jumble of memories wasn’t something he could help her remember, not with more specifics. But the other question...

“You have friends. You have people who love you, Miss. many people. Leroy and Jaime and Leah, so many others. You are loved,” he assured her. HR paused, biting the inside of his lip. It would be easy to lie and say she did. But even like this, she had a power over him. He couldn’t lie to her. “I don’t know if you do, Miss. you’ve never... said. The circumstances of our relationship are unconventional at best.” He reached up, gently touching her cheek. “I do know that I love you though.”

[thewrathofawright]

Lost Stars | HENRICA

[thewrathofawright]

subhrlawrence:

HR had lingered outside of the curtain for a few minutes, trying to gather himself. It had taken about a day to work through the insanity, to get himself settled at Miss Roxy’s, to get new glasses and his new phone. And now he was here, about to see his Miss. His Miss, who didn’t remember who he was. The doctors had told him a bit, scary words that he’d heard in his readings but he couldn’t apply them to his Miss.

He swallowed hard and forced a smile for Erica. “It’s… I’m HR, Miss. we were texting a little while ago?” It was hard to see his strong, beautiful Miss looking so fragile and pale. But HR tried to keep the smile on his face as he sat in the chair by her bed.

“HR,” She repeatedly dumbly, trying to commit it to her failing memory. Sitting up in her bed, she felt a lump in her throat appear. If she really was this… Erica person, then why couldn’t she remember anything about herself? She couldn’t recall anything. Did she have a family? Did she have people who liked her? Hated her?

“Doctors… said I was hit… on the head,” She spoke slowly, taking a fair amount of time to find the right words. “And arms,” As if they weren’t obvious, she lifted her arms up, both sporting casts on the forearm.

“I don’t… remember. What–” There were so many questions she wanted to ask. If this person– HR –really knew her, what could he tell her? “You’re… HR. You’re called–” Wait. What had it said on her phone. She grabbed it from her lap, struggling a little to keep her hands steady as she searched. “My darling,” The words sounded empty– unfamiliar. It ached, it stung. She just wanted to remember. To know who she was. To know the people she had apparently known before.

Looking back up at HR, she blinked a few times as flashes of memory came back to her. Nothing concrete. Just images, moments that she couldn’t piece together. “My darling,” She repeated, trying to connect the dots. An image of kissing him flashed by. At least– she thought it was him. The image, the broken memory made her heart beat a little faster. Had she loved this boy? She’d scrolled up through the other texts, but there was so much information that she couldn’t take in. But they had talked. A lot. At least, Erica and he had. All she could glean was that in some way, HR was special. Maybe she didn’t know his face, but the information on the phone made it clear.

“What happened?” She finally asked. After all, she still had no idea how she’d ended up here in the first place.

[subhrlawrence-blog]

HR couldn’t bring himself to talk. To watch her struggle like she was, to form words, it broke his heart. She was the strongest, fiercest woman he had ever known, and it was a slap in the face to see her so... broken.

He nodded, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. Hopefully his glasses would cover the shimmer of tears lingering in his dark eyes. “There was - a fire. An explosion. Someone tried to burn down the school. St. Brendan’s,” he clarified. “We are students there. And you went back in to try and help and... that’s how you got hurt,” he told her gently, wishing he could touch her somehow.

[thewrathofawright]

Lost Stars | HENRICA

– ( @subhrlawrence )

She wasn’t sure who she’d been talking to, honestly. They were labelled ‘My Darling’ in the phone. Did that mean that this person was her partner? She struggled, racking her brain for something about them. All she had were brief flashes. Faces she didn’t recognise, smiling, laughing, crying, screaming.

Whoever Erica was, she had been to many places. Seen many people. Done many things.

But she couldn’t remember exactly what any of it meant to her.

Maybe this was mistaken identity. Maybe they thought she was someone she wasn’t.

She didn’t know.

When the curtain was pulled back, she was met with another unfamiliar face.

“Who– are you?” She struggled to get out. But it was a sentence. The first one she’d been able to speak out loud properly. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. “Are you–” What had the person said their name was?

Her expression turned into one of frustration. A new word she’d remembered as she’d laid back in the bed, trying to figure out who Erica was.

If she was supposed to be Erica, why couldn’t she remember being her? Why couldn’t she remember people that she was supposed to be close to?

She groaned softly as she tried her best to recall what had been said in the messages. But nothing came to her. Her memory failed her.

Maybe whoever this was would help.

[subhrlawrence-blog]

HR had lingered outside of the curtain for a few minutes, trying to gather himself. It had taken about a day to work through the insanity, to get himself settled at Miss Roxy’s, to get new glasses and his new phone. And now he was here, about to see his Miss. His Miss, who didn’t remember who he was. The doctors had told him a bit, scary words that he’d heard in his readings but he couldn’t apply them to his Miss.

He swallowed hard and forced a smile for Erica. “It’s... I’m HR, Miss. we were texting a little while ago?” It was hard to see his strong, beautiful Miss looking so fragile and pale. But HR tried to keep the smile on his face as he sat in the chair by her bed.

[thewrathofawright]

Text: Miss? Miss, no one will tell me where you are... and I can't find Miss Jaime either, please, where are you?

[She struggles to read the message, struggles to figure out who ‘My Darling’ is supposed to be. Nothing is familiar. But she supposes that she should say something. She supposes she should try.]

[text]: i cznt se

[text]: im in a bed

[text]: my hradd

[text]: arms

[text]: got brken

[…]

[text]: wh are yoi?

[thewrathofawright]

subhrlawrence:

Text: I’m coming, Miss.

Text: I’ll help you find what’s right. I promise.

[…]

[text]: okl

[subhrlawrence-blog]

Text: I’ll see you soon.

[thewrathofawright]

Text: Miss? Miss, no one will tell me where you are... and I can't find Miss Jaime either, please, where are you?

[She struggles to read the message, struggles to figure out who ‘My Darling’ is supposed to be. Nothing is familiar. But she supposes that she should say something. She supposes she should try.]

[text]: i cznt se

[text]: im in a bed

[text]: my hradd

[text]: arms

[text]: got brken

[…]

[text]: wh are yoi?

[thewrathofawright]

subhrlawrence:

Text: Okay. I’m going to come see you.

Text: …you. You are Erica, Miss. Erica Wright.

[She squints at the messages, and feels her skin crawl as yet another person tells her that she is Erica. It doesn’t sound right. This– person, HR, keeps calling her Miss. She doesn’t feel like a Miss. She doesn’t feel like Erica Wright. She feels like she’s been thrown into a life without any idea of what it is. Who she is. All she knows are the sounds of the hospital, the bed she’s lying in and the doctors who check on her as she tries her best to talk like everyone else.]

[text]: tht doesnt sounf right

[text]: i’m

[text]: i dont know

[subhrlawrence-blog]

Text: I’m coming, Miss.

Text: I’ll help you find what’s right. I promise.

[thewrathofawright]

Text: Miss? Miss, no one will tell me where you are... and I can't find Miss Jaime either, please, where are you?

[She struggles to read the message, struggles to figure out who ‘My Darling’ is supposed to be. Nothing is familiar. But she supposes that she should say something. She supposes she should try.]

[text]: i cznt se

[text]: im in a bed

[text]: my hradd

[text]: arms

[text]: got brken

[…]

[text]: wh are yoi?

[subhrlawrence-blog]

deviiousqueen:

[text]: hospital

[text]: yrs

[text]: its whiite here

[text]: hr?

[text]: i dont

[text]: im

[text]: wjo is erica?

Text: Okay. I’m going to come see you.

Text: ...you. You are Erica, Miss. Erica Wright.

[thewrathofawright]

Text: Miss? Miss, no one will tell me where you are... and I can't find Miss Jaime either, please, where are you?

[She struggles to read the message, struggles to figure out who ‘My Darling’ is supposed to be. Nothing is familiar. But she supposes that she should say something. She supposes she should try.]

[text]: i cznt se

[text]: im in a bed

[text]: my hradd

[text]: arms

[text]: got brken

[…]

[text]: wh are yoi?

[subhrlawrence-blog]

[He gulped as he read the broken messages, his heart pounding. A bed. Broken arms... her head. His lips trembled as he read the final message.]

Text: Are you in the hospital, Miss? With doctors and machines and funny smells?

Text: I’m... I’m HR. Henry. I’m yours.

Text: I’m going to try to come see you, Miss. Is that okay?

[subhrlawrence-blog]

thomasdixon:

As soon as Thomas realised who it was that was dragging him out of the building, he managed to relax ever so slightly. He knew that he could trust HR, there was no doubt about that. HR served as a reminder that he wasn’t in enemy territory, that he had nothing to fear except the flames that were quickly catching up on them. He dragged his feet a little quicker, glad to feel the cold air on his skin. He breathed the clean air and he smiled. It was relief, exhaustion and calm that washed over him. 

The smile only remained for about half a minute before the explosion rang through his ears. It was unmistakable. He knew that sound, he knew it a little too well. His heartbeat skipped a beat before picking up again, racing through his chest and pounding in his head. His eyes glazed over and he began hyperventilating once again. This time, the air was clean and it wasn’t damaging, but he still somehow couldn’t breathe. His eyes filled with tears and despite HR’s attempts, he sank through his knees onto the ground, unable to keep his composure. He wasn’t in Seabrook, not in his mind he wasn’t. He cried, no–– screamed was more like it. Loud sobs, shaking shoulders, he dug his nails into his arms, scratching at the dozens of cigarette burns that had left red and white spots all over his body. “No–– no, please, don’t–– please. I won’t–– I won’t tell you no m-matter what y-you––” 

His heart was pounding, the sound almost deafening. Not deafening enough to drown out the melee around him, but enough to dull everything aside from the man in front of him. Thomas was fuzzy in the dark, without his glasses, but he could focus enough to try and make out the details of his face. He needed something to focus on or else he would run back into the fire to find his Miss, his Jaime, the women so important to him here.

HR went to his knees in front of Thomas, heedless of the cold that seeped through his thin pajamas. “Thomas - “ He grabbed the man’s hands, trying to keep him from hurting himself. This wasn’t something he’d done before, he had no idea how to really call someone back from inside their head, but he had to try. “Thomas, shh. You’re okay. You’re here in Seabrook, no one is going to hurt you. No one, I promise, you’re here with me - remember me? It’s Henry, HR. Come on, come back to me, Thomas, I know you can. Focus on me, you’re okay,” he babbled, keeping his voice as low and soothing as he could with the terror he couldn’t control flooding his veins.

[subhrlawrence-blog]

thomasdixon:

Thomas’ ears were blocked. His senses were giving up on him, putting him back in a place so awful yet so familiar. His skin was clammy and he was shaking all over. He was a mess. His upper body was still littered in nearly a hundred of small circular scars and if he didn’t move, there would be more scars added to that collection. He barely moved as HR tugged on him, his feet stuck to the floor until HR forced him to move forward into the right direction. 

The cloth was still pressed firmly against his nose and mouth and although the heat was quickly drawing out the last bit of water, he could still feel it. He could feel it filling his lungs and obstructing his breathing. He was choking, drowning, and before he knew it, the cloth had fallen to the ground. Trying to gasp for air, his lungs filled with smoke, making him cough and topple over, but also pulled him back to reality.

“H-HR––” he spluttered, tasting the familiar iron on his tongue. His feet move a little faster, towards the exit. He could feel a light breeze, but he knew that it meant the fire would keep spreading. For a moment, his mind is in the right place. He remembers. He’s in Seabrook. He’s quit the vocational program. He’s going to work in the infirmary. He just needs to get out. His feet still won’t move, but they’re moving. He just needs to keep going and eventually they’ll reach that exit. 

His mind was racing, because he had to get out. He had to know about Erica, about Lexi and Jamie and Sam, about everyone who had touched his heart while he was here. But mostly he just had to get out. He fell to his knees as Thomas did, coughing, and he shook his head, though he knew the other man couldn’t see him. “No - come on, Thomas, we have to get out.”

HR was smaller than the other man, but he managed to get him to his feet. His muscles screamed in protest, locked and tight as panic thrummed through him. “That’s right, it’s me... We’ll be okay, Thomas, come on - “ He grunted again when someone else bumped into him on their frantic run towards the door, his glasses sliding from his nose. Fuck.

Swallowing hard, he continued, not caring about his glasses at the moment. He could see... mostly. Enough to get them towards the door. The chill of the early morning air was welcome, and he stumbled outside, his arms still wound around the older man. “Thomas... Thomas, look at me,” he rasped out, one hand on the other sub’s shoulder, the other tentatively touching his cheek.