Page 121 of Untouchable

Parker wriggles back into the blanket, not wanting to feel so exposed. Anger is flaring up in him, and it’s not an emotion that Parker is used to. He can’t see whatever mental roadblocks Harp is stumbling over, and it seems like Harp is refusing to tell Parker anything, leaving Parker to suss out the truth with a handful of cryptic clues and a few stern frowns.

He’s frustrated, he’s confused, and most of all, he’s scared—scared that Harp regrets something, scared that Harp has changed his mind, scared that Harp will decide Parker isn’t worth the effort.

"You just—I thought you just did. Tell me I mean. Is there something else?"

Parker sighs with frustration and runs his hand through his hair. He can’t tell if Harp is being intentionally obtuse, and he realizes it’s the first time ever where he’s felt like Harp was the person a step behind in the conversation instead of himself.

“There’s nothing else to wait around for,”Parker says, dropping his voice into a ridiculous imitation of Harp. “You must be antsy to get home. Like, did it ever occur to me that maybe I wanted to spend time with you? Maybe I didn’t want to be rushed out the door the morning after we—after last night? That maybe it might feel, I dunno, a little shitty to tell someone you like them and then have them ask you if you’re ready to leave?”

He knows he’s being unfair, but he can’t stop himself. Harp is probably exhausted from having Parker around for three days. They’d barely slept last night, and Harp is recovering from a panic attack. Parker is being immature, is being selfish, is being a pest. He sees himself doing it, but he can’t seem to stop.

He hates himself for it, hates the way he’s becoming a clingy, whining, needy mess, just like he’d been with Cole.

Christ, Parker thinks. No wonder he wants you to leave.

* * *

"Parker,it's not even—You're right and—I can't do this right now," Harp says. He realizes it even as he's saying it. He can't. He's no longer the test pilot with an option to pull out. He's simply free falling now and there's no way to fix this. Not right now. Not until he can function again at some happy medium. He’s had a panic attack and although it’s not as devastating as it sometimes is, he’s still not equipped to console another person. It’s too much, too soon.

"I want to have this conversation. We need to have this conversation. I had a panic attack this morning because if you'd have died in here, it would've been my fault. And I'm... I haven't been completely honest with you. And I want to have this conversation—I really do—but it can't be right now."

* * *

His brain isshort-circuiting trying to comprehend all of this.

He doesn’t hear, I care a lot about you.

He doesn’t hear, I am happy.

He doesn’t hear, I want to have this conversation.

All he can hear is, it can’t be right now.

Which transmutes, so quickly Parker hardly even notices, to, I need you to leave so I can buy time to let you down gently.

Parker’s throat tightens and he realizes his hands are shaking.

WhatdidIdowhatdidIdoslams around his head wildly.

“What do you mean you haven’t been honest?” Parker demands, his voice unsteady. “Like, what, you still are married and she’s coming back later today and you need me to clear out? Like, could you not be so cryptic at least? I don’t—I don’t understand, Harp.”

* * *

"I'm trying,"Harp says. It rasps in him. His chest feels like it's caving in. He's begging. He's already let Parker in so much, and it's not enough, and he knows it's not enough, and he's gone about this all wrong—he's wrecked it before it could even get off the ground. He doesn’t know about Cherry or Walt or any of the things that Harp did before he ever met Parker—all of the bad things that make him retreat, make him hated by his family and Mink Creek.

"No," Harp says when the pain eases off. "Cherry is gone for good. And I really, really need your trust for a moment. This isn’t about you. If it was about you, I give you my word that I would tell you, Parker.”

* * *

Something cracksin Harp’s expression, and Parker sees a sliver of emotion beyond the stony wall Harp has put up. He relents. Parker feels awful—unsure and frustrated and confused and unwanted—but judging by the flash of panic in Harp’s eye, this isn’t exactly easy for him either.

What Harp is asking for feels impossible. To trust him, to trust that he’s not mad, that some resentment isn’t festering away inside. In Parker’s life, this has always been a minefield. I’m not mad meant the opposite. We don’t need to talk about it meant you better find a way to fix this.I’ll tell you if something’s wrong meant you need to work harder in the future to stay on my good side.

Parker shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

This isn’t Cole, he reminds himself desperately. This is Harp. This is different.

“Fine,” Parker says, and he winces as the word comes out more petulantly than he intends. “I—I’ll go and we can... we can talk later.”

---