"If you had said something, we could have replicated it from an existing example. Since you already took it...' Declan trailed off, worried that there was something seriously wrong and that he was going to be unable to do anything about it. was it some important medicine for a serious condition?
"There is nothing physically wrong with him," Ghost spoke up quietly from where he'd been hovering and listening, scanning Aoba stealthily.
"Then what's the problem?" Declan demanded, doing his best not to let too much of his fretting seep into his tone. Mostly it came out like the low warning growl of a sleepy, poked bear. he was too distracted to notice.
"Psychosomatic symptoms?" Ghost suggested, earning a blank look of confusion from the Guardian. "Physical illness caused by mental distress," the construct clarified, and Declan sighed softly, releasing a tense breath as he shook his head and leaned over to carefully remove Aoba's shoes, finding it necessary to do something with his hands.
"Well, that makes sense, right?" the Titan asked, setting the boots aside and staring at the socked feet underneath with a thoughtful look. "You're under a lot of stress right now, aren't you?" he pointed out, reaching in again and gripping one of Aoba's feet, thumbs digging into the arch. No questions or comments, just doing it. Stretching the foot, pulling the toes. Pop. Pop. Pop. In lieu of medication, releasing natural endorphins was all Declan could offer until the ordered pills and tea arrived.
"If it isn't some kind of cranial abnormality, the most we can do is treat the symptoms," Ghost added, floating near Aoba's face briefly before drifting away, unwilling to be the cause of further headache's with his lights and sounds.
"It's not, right?" Declan asked, pausing to look at Aoba directly. "You're not sick and hiding it, are you? We have good doctors in the city...we just don't need them in the Tower."
no subject
"There is nothing physically wrong with him," Ghost spoke up quietly from where he'd been hovering and listening, scanning Aoba stealthily.
"Then what's the problem?" Declan demanded, doing his best not to let too much of his fretting seep into his tone. Mostly it came out like the low warning growl of a sleepy, poked bear. he was too distracted to notice.
"Psychosomatic symptoms?" Ghost suggested, earning a blank look of confusion from the Guardian. "Physical illness caused by mental distress," the construct clarified, and Declan sighed softly, releasing a tense breath as he shook his head and leaned over to carefully remove Aoba's shoes, finding it necessary to do something with his hands.
"Well, that makes sense, right?" the Titan asked, setting the boots aside and staring at the socked feet underneath with a thoughtful look. "You're under a lot of stress right now, aren't you?" he pointed out, reaching in again and gripping one of Aoba's feet, thumbs digging into the arch. No questions or comments, just doing it. Stretching the foot, pulling the toes. Pop. Pop. Pop. In lieu of medication, releasing natural endorphins was all Declan could offer until the ordered pills and tea arrived.
"If it isn't some kind of cranial abnormality, the most we can do is treat the symptoms," Ghost added, floating near Aoba's face briefly before drifting away, unwilling to be the cause of further headache's with his lights and sounds.
"It's not, right?" Declan asked, pausing to look at Aoba directly. "You're not sick and hiding it, are you? We have good doctors in the city...we just don't need them in the Tower."