maskormenacelogs | i think there's a flaw in my code

"If I let go of it, then what do I have left?" It's scary, letting go of things you've held onto for most of your life. Clinging to it, suffocating in it. And now Kylo is telling him to let that go, the only thing he's had for so long.

Necessary. Wanted. Needed. Loved. They all a tangled mess in his head and Murphy's never tried to tease it out. His jaw visibly tenses when he clenches his teeth, trying to ebb away the tears that threaten to roll down his cheek.

"I was loyal to you." Murphy's talking about their other life. Murphy was a lieutenant then, too. It was much different; Kylo never tried to hang him. "Is that what you were doing? Using me?" Murphy hadn't come here for this conversation. He didn't come here to be flayed like this. This isn't the kind of reunion that Murphy was expecting.

"In the City? Only as much as you were using me," Kylo points out, eyes locked on Murphy's face. It's a delicate operation, this. He can see the trembling edge of misery threatening to break Murphy's resolve— it would be so easy for him to slide into defensive despondency here.

Kylo won't let him.

"John," he says, the barest hint of something fond in his voice. And for once, it's Kylo who offers reassurance... or, at least, his own interpretation of it, complete with a physical connection to remind Murphy where he is. Here, in Kylo and Ronan's bedroom at the Meadows, where he'd been welcomed without condition.

He reaches out, broad hands grasping Murphy's shoulders, seeking his undivided attention.

"Do you think I need you? Is that why you're welcome here? Is it your usefulness that had me fighting an army of the undead to reach you? Is that the reason Ronan and I cut through that vision of your past to cut you free? No. You can't buy my loyalty by proving yourself useful, John— because you already have it."

Kylo's lips quirk.

"That's what you will have left if you let go: exactly what you had before."

It's hard not to steer his gaze away from Kylo, it's like he physically held his attention. Murphy doesn't say anything, knowing that Kylo is right. His lips purse, jaw visibly tenses at his grinding of teeth.

Murphy's angry, it's etched into his eyebrows, the anger rests on his lips. He's angry at himself. He's angry at Kylo for caring this much. More than Murphy could haven imagined Kylo having for him.

"I was only welcomed here because I was here before," Murphy murmurs. He wants to fight this because, for some reason, he wants to be right about something so miserable.

A second later, relenting, "I want to let it go. I'm so tired." His voice cracks; he lets out a sigh, trying to steel himself.

Kylo's not concerned about Murphy's anger. Why would he be? He knows where it comes from. It's the reaction that makes the most sense, from his perspective— it's how he would have responded. In fact, it is how he responded, in the early days of discovering Ronan's care for him.

So he lets Murphy speak without interruption, watching his face. His towering bulk and strange intensity often give across the impression he knows exactly what he's doing and why, but having encountered this fragility in Murphy, Kylo finds himself reluctant to release him. Maybe, this is why he should wait until he has a plan for letting go before he seizes hold, himself? He gives Murphy's shoulders a squeeze instead.

"I know," he says. And he does. He remembers. "I don't have anything like this where I come from either. It takes time."

Kylo's empathy has Murphy's anger slowly dissipating. The reassurance is convincing enough, enough to smooth away prickled nerves. It's good enough that Murphy doesn't want to lash out. He's removed himself from the defensive, from the offensive. Beneath Kylo's firm grip, his muscles relax; his shoulder slump down.

It grounds him, the squeeze of shoulders, reminds Murphy that he's still in Kylo's room. That they are both having this conversation now.

"It's not fair," Murphy murmurs, attention flicking back to Kylo. He's found the courage to look at him in the eyes now.

"No?" Kylo prompts, hands firm, gaze steady.

What is fair? Very little, in Kylo's admittedly miserable experience. Fairness, as far as he's concerned, is a myth— just as forgiveness is. A shared delusion he refuses to participate in.

But Murphy's presumably thinking of something in particular, and Kylo affords him enough consideration not to simply take the specifics. They can talk about it.

Though, he realises belatedly, he should probably let Murphy's shoulders go now. They should... sit. How do people usually do this kind of thing? It's not like he can use his discussions with Ronan as a template...

i think there's a flaw in my code

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