He snaps his hand back when she pulls away, as if he's been burned and frowns at her, his expression equal parts worried and calculating, the latter if only because he's running her symptoms through some mental medical dictionary, trying to decide what's wrong and if he can treat her without moving her. He stops only when she cries out, anxious former (current?) lover and friend marking another victory against collected medical professional, and he reaches for her again only to stop short.
The swell of muscle mass, the slow spread of green, the pain she's in -- it all makes sudden sense and no sense at all. He recognizes what she's going through, if only because he's gone through it himself time and time again, but it shouldn't be possible. He's the man leashed to his monster, not her. She couldn't -- she shouldn't --
He shakes his head, trying to clear it, and it works, if only partially, trying to figure out how the hell this is possible replaced by a hundred different things he could say to try and guide her through this. All of them sound too much like the things he's heard from the other people who know what he is, however, pointless and uneasy -- just breathes and calm downs -- and so he gives up on them, settling instead on something he knows will help, even if it's against his better judgement. Even if he still doesn't understand.
"Don't try and fight back."
If there's anything he's learned over the last few years, it's that fighting a change only makes things worse. If he lets it come, if he doesn't try to control it, it hurts less and he's generally less likely to put a friend through a wall in his fury. He can only hope the same will be true for Betty and not for his own sake. He trusts her, just as she trusts him. He doesn't want her to have to live in terror of trusting herself until they can fix this.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-06-27 07:24 pm (UTC)From:The swell of muscle mass, the slow spread of green, the pain she's in -- it all makes sudden sense and no sense at all. He recognizes what she's going through, if only because he's gone through it himself time and time again, but it shouldn't be possible. He's the man leashed to his monster, not her. She couldn't -- she shouldn't --
He shakes his head, trying to clear it, and it works, if only partially, trying to figure out how the hell this is possible replaced by a hundred different things he could say to try and guide her through this. All of them sound too much like the things he's heard from the other people who know what he is, however, pointless and uneasy -- just breathes and calm downs -- and so he gives up on them, settling instead on something he knows will help, even if it's against his better judgement. Even if he still doesn't understand.
"Don't try and fight back."
If there's anything he's learned over the last few years, it's that fighting a change only makes things worse. If he lets it come, if he doesn't try to control it, it hurts less and he's generally less likely to put a friend through a wall in his fury. He can only hope the same will be true for Betty and not for his own sake. He trusts her, just as she trusts him. He doesn't want her to have to live in terror of trusting herself until they can fix this.