16 February 1894 — Tycho's House, Wellingtonshire
It was ultimately unsurprising that Ford barely made it to Tycho before collapsing in on himself like a decaying star. He'd been trembling from the moment he stepped in through the floo. Maybe if he'd made it here when he'd originally intended to come, immediately after Mr. Farley had leftt he parlor, he would have fared better. As it was, he had already expended too much of his mental energy talking with Noble — or maybe too much just existing in his new state of the world, under the pressure of this new development, to have any left to hold himself together more than a dozen feet. As soon as he'd seen Ty his face had crumpled, eyebrows furrowed and mouth twisted.
He had to tell Ty, obviously, and he knew he ought to tell Tycho first, before he said or did anything else. Tycho was going to have thoughts and feelings on the subject, which Ford ought to give him space to process. Ty was going to have things to say, which Ford ought to hear out. Ford knew all of this because he had been in this position already — he'd been on the receiving end of this news, and he'd felt all the things he knew Ty was going to feel, and he knew exactly how not to handle it. He knew what he ought to give Tycho in terms of time and space and allowances, but — whatever his intentions had been when he'd come in through the floo, he'd forgotten them immediately upon seeing Tycho and feeling, all at once, how overwhelming this whole situation was. So instead of telling him, instead of saying anything, Ford found himself merely dashing to his lover as fast as his shaky legs could carry him and lodging himself in Tycho's arms.
He had to tell Ty, obviously, and he knew he ought to tell Tycho first, before he said or did anything else. Tycho was going to have thoughts and feelings on the subject, which Ford ought to give him space to process. Ty was going to have things to say, which Ford ought to hear out. Ford knew all of this because he had been in this position already — he'd been on the receiving end of this news, and he'd felt all the things he knew Ty was going to feel, and he knew exactly how not to handle it. He knew what he ought to give Tycho in terms of time and space and allowances, but — whatever his intentions had been when he'd come in through the floo, he'd forgotten them immediately upon seeing Tycho and feeling, all at once, how overwhelming this whole situation was. So instead of telling him, instead of saying anything, Ford found himself merely dashing to his lover as fast as his shaky legs could carry him and lodging himself in Tycho's arms.
Set by Lady!