Jealous

It wasn't until that lingering touch that Dillon finally realized. The world stopped for a moment as he tried not to react. He could only hope he wasn't blushing as he met T's hurt but strong eyes. He liked T. He really did. He just didn't realize how much or that it could go anywhere until that moment.

"It, uh..." He cleared his throat and gave a small nervous smile "It's just a bruise. Nothing to worry about. You're the one who's bleeding." He applied a last bit of medical tape to keep a bandage in place.

~~~

Isaac felt the touch too, but only the gentle twinge of the bruise. There was no comfort from it. Instead, Isaac felt something burning in his chest. He quickly realized it was jealousy. Was he jealous that T was being that way with Dillon instead of him? No. No, he realized he was feeling... protective. He realized the only person he wanted to touch Dillon that way or even look him in the eyes for that long was himself. Nobody else. If his little melodic spell hadn't been interupted-

Other T gave one more sudden buck, trying to throw him off. It took most of his focus back, but only most of it. He applied more weight to his knee. "Would you quit it? Fucking moron..." he hissed. He realized when real T winced. "Oh, right... sorry, T." He shot him a grin that hopefully came off as apologetic.

~~~

"I'm good....Thank you, Dillon.... Ya know, eventually you'll be saying that to me, "

"Oh, I know. Trust me... I'm usually useless and helpless. The opportunity will come." His nervous smile turned more gentle and his shoulders sagged with relief. "I guess it's obvious now..." he muttered. He glanced back at Isaac who gave a little shrug and smile as if to say oh, well.... "Did you... know the whole time?" He'd been expecting some huge affair full of begging and crying from both he and Isaac. He was beyond relieved Isaac had finally dropped it.

When T started to get up, he was back to fussing. "Hey, hey, hey! Just stay down for a minute. You-"

"I'm good, I'm good," T insisted. "let me just..." He found his way to the couch and collapsed onto it. Once he got comfortable, he pointed to the stairs. "I decided we might need to contain the fake you, so I turned my room into a cell while I was down here, or at least I hope I did. Either way, I think putting him in there would be a better idea now."

Other T began struggling again at the prospect. Isaac had no trouble holding him down, but he shot a glare at T. He didn't like knowing that had been the plan either.

Dillon stood up to go sit by T on the couch, giving him a little space.

He had come to assume they would somehow force Isaac to admit to his identity then leave. He didn't know how they would've been able to keep Isaac out, but then, he didn't know how they'd be able to keep anyone contained in a place like this either. "I think someone will have to guard him..." he said, looking towards Isaac and Other T.

Isaac frowned. "What? I don't wanna do it."

This surprised Dillon somewhat. Normally, when nobody else volunteered for something, he took up the task. It made sense, though. If Isaac was his inner voice and he wasn't trying to hide anymore... of course he'd be unashamed of speaking his mind. He shrugged. "I don't think I'd trust you two together anyway," he said plainly. "Sorry," he added.

T finally looked towards Isaac, waving a finger half-heartedly in his general direction. Even as he spoke, T's eyes were already beginning to close, and he looked to be settling now.

"And you, I don't know about you...but just don't do nothing stupid...you good...until I wake up...''

~~~

Isaac somehow wasn't really thinking about that until Dillon said it. He didn't want to guard Other T because he thought it would be boring and he wanted to be with the others, but now that he thought about it... there was fun to be had with Other T, too. He wasn't planning on plotting with him, no. He seemed like a useless moron, but... maybe he could get a little payback. His imagination ran wild with ideas and none of it even included physically hurting him. He didn't have to be violent to be intimidating and get the upper hand. He had to hold back his sigh of dissapointment. Nobody was going to let them be alone together. He shrugged inwardly. Other T probably wouldn't stay locked up forever. Isaac could be very patient.

~~~

Dillon could tell Isaac was thinking, but he couldn't tell what about. It didn't look like he was thinking very hard, though. Hopefully that meant it was nothing to worry about.

Eventually, Isaac sighed. "So the jig is up, huh?" he said half heartedly, not really looking at anyone. "I... I'm sorry, everyone." The apology sounded so genuine. "I just... I don't know... what I'm doing, or... what to do at all, really.... I just didn't want..." He sighed, looking up at Dillon with a sad smile. "I don't know..."

Dillon nodded. "You..." he sighed, hoping he wasn't wrong or making a horrible mistake. "He's not... fake," he was speaking to everyone, but looking only at Isaac, trying to judge his expression. "He... He's real... Kinda. He's not... I dunno, I don't think he's just... some thing trying to act like me. He... he is me." Isaac's expression was difficult to identify. Surprise? Appreciation? Worry? "I think..." He shook his head and shrugged, unsure. "I think he's like... A part of me. Like... like I've been split in two. Well, no... I'm all... Still the same. I'm not missing anything, but..." He sighed frustratedly. "Isaac is... I think he's part of me," he finally admitted. "We're... probably actually super different, but..." he sighed again. "I bet we're all a little different on the inside..." He was beginning to worry what Isaac might do in the future and how it would reflect on him to the others. Maybe he shouldn't have said it all out loud.

Isaac just sort of... melted his posture a little, a sweet, appreciative, heart-warming smile on his face. "Well... aren't you the sweetest thing on the planet." He almost looked embarrased and timid. "I guess... There's no reason to keep this up, is there?" He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back. When he let it fall back into place, it was shorter and neater, more stylized than Dillon's long curtain of emo fringe. His less focused right eye was actually more visible. Nothing else changed, but maybe, like everything else here, it couldn't happen while everyone was looking.

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