Darius wondered how these questions would help him feel better. He got slightly annoyed, but answered somewhat sincerely. "Yes. You could never understand this, doctor, but... while he did foot me with the bill more than once, he never needed my money. He didn't want me there for my money. Even when I felt like an outsider of the group because I'd be the butt of his jokes. Or he risked my life for his fun. Or he gave me nightmares I still haven't passed over..." he ran a hand through his hair. "I felt like I mattered with him. That I was in a group, and that I was an important part of the party. That this powerful guy wanted me there. So I was someone."

It also didn't need a medical degree to understand that nothing Mr. Carrington described sounded like a friendship. But he was careful not to point that out directly. He didn't want to anger his patient. Plus, the 'friendship' was over. Tristan was more interested in the young man needs that had driven him into the 'friendship' and apparently still prevented him from seeing it as anything else than that. "Did you never feel like you were someone outside of this friendship?"

Darius shrugged. "Yeah, I saw the way he spoke with the others in the group. Like I was less his friend and more of a lap dog. I know he spoke badly of me and they would all laugh. It hurt. But I was there when he needed me to be. I was at his side when things got bad until it was too bad. We had moments none of the others knew."

He clenched a fist. "Of course I didn't know he had some male lover who ended up murdering him. But I guess it was fair we were all allowed our secrets."

The last comment threw him of guard. How stories intersected... He was quiet for a few seconds, processing. What the hell did he say to all of that?

"I'm sorry he treated you that way..." he finally said. He meant it. But he was also ready to observe the response.

Darius glanced at the doctor and gave a weak, bitter laugh that only lasted a second. "Thanks I guess. But it was better than my family. I might as well be dead. I don't know when it began but... I've always been a ghost in this place. If you were to ask my family, at best I'm a disappointment. At worst. I'm a shadow haunting this room who only comes out for wine and money. Even as a child I dont think any of them even knew me." That was a surprise to say. Though it was the truth.

The information found some difficulty landing in his head. He had no difficulties believing that the father neglected his children at best. And the siblings might disregard their brother. But it was harder for Tristan to think poorly of Mrs. Carrington. Surely she loved her children. But he supposed she might have been so occupied surviving the terror her husband put her through that her children hadn't always felt seen. The information managed to find a landing spot.

"I'm sorry you felt that way. That must have been very lonely. How about other friends? Did you have friends in school? How about this friend who got married?"

Darius scowled and shook his head. "I had no friends in school. I was a shy child and was bullied mercilessly. While I was alright at reading, I didn't excel in school. It made everything worse. "

Damn, he wanted something to drink. He covered his face. "That..friend? I helped her out a little, tried to save her from some drunks at my father's party. She was married to my brother who died and had his children. She was my model because she is beautiful." He stared hard at nothing. "She has been kind to me. Kinder than just about anyone else in my life. She tried to tell me she loved me, but when she hugged me... it felt so strange and foreign I wanted to scream and flee. I don't think that should happen between friends, do you?"

Tristan's eyes widened slightly, and once again he wondered at the strange ways lives interconnected. This was poor Mrs. Sonia Meijer he was talking about...

Then the things Mr. Carrington said about the hug caught his interest. He remembered the pronoun he had used for "Calliope". It could be that? He was an artist... Or it could be how unaccustomed the poor man was to affection. Tristan did feel very sorry for him. Mr. Carrington showed signs of vanity. He clearly didn't reflect much on the impact of his words on others. But he had also clearly been deprived of warm relationships in which to learn how to treat others respectfully. Or indeed how to respect himself.

"Should it not? Things we are not accustomed to can feel intimidating at first, can they not? Do you feel uncomfortable with physical affection as a rule?"

Darius was surprised by the question. He stared at Tristan. "I suppose.. when you get used to it, people can enjoy physical contact. But affection... " he laid back in his chair. "How can it not be terrifying? You have to drop your guard even if you know the other won't kill you. Good things don't happen... even when I finally grew the courage to do it, it wasn't worth it to me. Though I guess others crave it enough. Maybe it takes just the right person to make it pleasant." He sighed.

"Maybe it does. And trust," he said quietly. "I can imagine that's not easy when people have hurt you so often. Perhaps you friend hugged you before you were ready for it? It's okay to feel uncomfortable, even between friends."