Sniffle. "Fuck, I got sentimental, why'd I do that."

"Well, it really does sound like you trust each other."  Like you love each other.  Like...well, nevermind.  "But - so, one of the old guys on my old EMT squad had a thing he liked to say.  He trusted his wife to be loyal, and to do right by him, and to make him happy.  But she wasn't allowed in the kitchen, because he couldn't trust her not to burn rice in a pot of water.  I don't know - if you have that second kind of trust, where you trust him to do what needs done correctly.  Or maybe you do.  If you want to talk about, y'know, the everything, I've got nothing better to do."  He'll gently hold her head down and use the forbidden Double Scratch technique, since it seems to be helping her.

"Ffflllbbrrrghlrgl."

"...we used to date. We broke up because—I don't know, because I have trust issues, I guess. When I started losing my shit, I didn't know what was going on, I was just incredibly pissed off and thinking about all the stupidest fights we'd ever had, and I sent him some nasty texts and—he knew I wouldn't do that in a million years normally, he knew something was wrong, so he came to find out what. And then just. Stayed. ...I think, before this week, I would've said I didn't trust him with like... Impulse control stuff? But I spent three days straight crying on him, and especially at first saying just the worst shit because I had no impulse control when it came to my feelings and I had a lot of feelings, and he just... never snapped back, literally not even once. Like. Fuck."

With a valiant effort, she keeps her sniffles under control.

"Well.  Between you and me, you don't want relationship advice from me.  I'm a catastrophe at it."  Gotta reciprocaaate this suuuuuuuuuuucks.  "I've got five months left on a vow of not diving headfirst into a relationship right now.  So yeah.  I don't know.  Maybe he needed to give something to care about before he could learn to do that."  Tim chokes up a little.  "Sorry, think I got some dust in my eye."  He wipes at his eyes with a thumb, and thinks about the first time he touched his eyeball with his thumb.  And chokes up a little more.

"Don't you 'some dust in my eye' me, mister, not when I've been blubbering on you all afternoon." She attempts Comforting Snug.

He gives a slightly watery chuckle.  "Heh.  I guess that's fair.  It's just - it's been a lot."  He tries to dab at his eyes with his shirt, only to realize he's not wearing a shirt.  This makes him laugh, which...isn't really doing him any favors in the holding back the waterworks department.

April laughs a little too, and gives in to the sniffles. She's hardly even grumpy about it this time. It doesn't feel as frustrating when the misery has company, maybe.

He drops into an Esper Hearing undertone.  "D, d'you mind if.  Um.  Your hair?  I don't want to...cry.  In public.  It's gonna happen, but.  I can hide a little."

"I'm just gonna assume you meant 'hey April can I stick my face in your hair?'" she says, in an approximation of the same undertone, though hers is less practiced.

By way of answer, she shuffles up a little to present a more convenient Weepiness Concealment Surface. And attempts another Comforting Snug.

He hiccups a little.  “Yeah.  It’s.  Sorry.”  He could just be getting guiding.  Into all of the skin surface that hair provides.  While shaking.  And making sad little choking noises.

That’ll surely hide the evidence in from all ten of the espers with mildly superhuman senses.  The ones within fifty feet of him, the ones specifically ordered to listen to his orders while inside the circle.

Her backlash must be contagious.

She lets herself sniffle a little louder, to provide better cover.

Sean returns, with snacks and tissues!

... he'll just... set these down in easy reach and find somewhere to chill.

Tim isn’t a person who cries a lot.  More since he started dungeoneering.  But between almost losing Sara to a crab last night, the gut wound from earlier today, April crying as well, and one case of being redirected from one victim and being pretty sure it’s because the victim  died…

Tim’s not really feeling his best.  His own sniffles and repressed sobs do start to slow down, eventually.

Sean hands him a pack of tissues.

“Thanks."  He hands some to April.  Keeps a few for himself.  “Uh.  Sorry.”  It’s not clear if this is addressed to April, Sean, or if it’s an autonomic response.

"Coulda sworn I heard somebody a minute ago saying not to feel bad about being a mess when you're saving lives."

Tim grumbles a little bit but doesn't, actually, have a coherent argument.  "Well.  Thanks, anyway."  It looks like he's stabilized emotionally, for the moment.

Look, some new patients approach! Or, one patient, anyway, and one assistant.

"Oh, hi Tim," Jamie :3 greets the apparent healer as he drops Zei off on a soft surface nearby. 

Zei has a bump on his head, apparently, given the trail of dried blood on his face. He half-raises a hand towards Tim, his eyes squinted open in his direction for a moment before he closes them again. 

"Hey, Jamie, Zei.  Good to see you."  Both of them can get buffed, it's the SOP.  "I don't see much wrong with you, he's got a little blood loss.  No concussion, I don't think, kind of a jagged laceration?"  He passes a hand over his face and smiles.  His eyes are notably red and puffy.  And as his power ticks on further, he scoots April into a better guiding position.

"Sounds right," Zei grumbles. "Backlash, though. Jay, Lyra?" 

"I think we're not supposed to put pregnant people in the circle," he looks to Tim for confirmation. 

"Yessir.  I've been meaning to test it on a rat or something, but I haven't gotten around to it and I think Bill will have a fit if I ask him to deliver me a pregnant rat in a disaster zone.  I've, uh, been helped by April here."  He pats the relevant party on the shoulder.  "She's in the middle of awakening, and she's, uh, been very helpful.  Considering, you know."  Wait.  "Actually, no, she's just been super helpful overall."