It was a long shot and judging by that look on his face, he didn't believe him any more than the police did. He had seen the way Harrison Wells looked at Hartley, it repulsed him. All he wanted to do was go in there and protect him and then suddenly, mid way through talking, he hit himself in the head with his pencil holder off the desk and shoved it into James hand before triggering the alarm.
He had a record, the police knew him, of course they assumed he'd broke into steal, panicked and attacked that psycho asshole. And here he was, back in jail, a panel of glass separating then and talking into a telephone. "I didn't try to steal anything. I went in to talk to your creepy pervert boss. Do you see the way he has his eyes all over you? He's a freak. I was trying to have your back. I never hit him."
"I believe you didn't try to steal anything." Hartley sighed, fingers tightening around the phone. "I'll try to get you your meds, James. You sound paranoid again."
Very paranoid. Hartley knew that Wells had never been anything but professional with him, so he had no idea what could have triggered this kind of reaction. Usually this kind of behaviour from James was at least based on something, but apparently he had gotten even worse. "I'm trying to pay the bail, but... It's pretty high. I'm sorry."
"What?" He felt his stomach sink. Hartley thought he was crazy? No, no way, why would he think that? James never hurt anyone, he always tried his best not to lash out and when he did, he always owned up to it. Sometimes, sure, he may have not told and avoided talking about it but hell, he wouldn't do this. "You don't believe me."
Shit. "I can't believe this." All he wanted to do was protect Hartley from that psycho, he did nothing wrong, he even entered the place legally and now he was in fucking jail? "Wells is a total psycho, Hart. He's insane. Okay? He hit himself. He picked up that pencil holder and hit himself and I-I freaked. And then it was in my hands and I don't even know how it got there. He set me up." That cunning bastard. "You have to see it? Come on. The way he looks at you."
"No. No, James, I don't see that he looks at me that way." Hartley's smile was sad. He didn't want to have to do this. He reached out to put his hand against the glass, because it hurt him to see James like this, especially when he couldn't hold him to calm him down. "James. I'm sorry. I'll try to help you. But I've seen the footage. I believe that you think it happened this way, but you know you lose the plot sometimes. I've no idea why you're so angry at Dr Wells, but it sounds exactly like one of your episodes."
"I don't have episodes. I'm not fucking Axel, I'm not some crazy guy you can throw meds at. I'm fine, I'm not crazy. Wells hit himself and set me up. He's a psycho. He wants you and he wants me out of the way. He told me." James slammed his hand on the table in anger and the guard shot him a warning look until he settled, fingers wrapped tightly around the phone. "He's fucking gay for you and I wanted to tell him to back off but he kept baiting me."
Calling him insignificant, uninteresting, a distraction that Hartley didn't need. To him, James was just some street rat that crawled its way into his precious lab. He kept provoking him, getting him angrier and angrier. Now he knew why. "He totally set me up."
"So, while Wells told you that he wants you out of the way, so he can sex me up, was he by any chance twirling a moustache?" What was he supposed to say to all this? "Look, I... I've no idea what happened, James, I can't know. I want to believe you, although if it was true and you went there just to stake your fucking claim again, like I'm your possession or some shit like that, that's not actually any better."
"What? No! What is wrong with you? That wasn't it at all. I was worried. That guy is off, I could see it from the get go. It's in his fucking eyes. There's nothing there. It's so fucking hollow. Every smile is fake, every word he says is so careful. He played me and he's playing you too." And he didn't believe him. He just saw James as some angry asshole who wanted to take a claim? That hurt. Was that what he was? He didn't want to be that person... God. Was that how people saw him? "I wanted to protect you, not claim you." He swallowed hard and looked at Hartley once more. It was so clear he didn't even believe him, he was just humouring the idea of his innocence.
"Fuck you." He was hurting, he was scared, he just wanted to lash out. And there was Hartley. "Fuck you and fuck Wells. You two queer assholes are welcome to each other." And with that, James slammed his phone back on the receiver and moved away before Hartley could see him tear up.
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no subject
It was a long shot and judging by that look on his face, he didn't believe him any more than the police did. He had seen the way Harrison Wells looked at Hartley, it repulsed him. All he wanted to do was go in there and protect him and then suddenly, mid way through talking, he hit himself in the head with his pencil holder off the desk and shoved it into James hand before triggering the alarm.
He had a record, the police knew him, of course they assumed he'd broke into steal, panicked and attacked that psycho asshole. And here he was, back in jail, a panel of glass separating then and talking into a telephone. "I didn't try to steal anything. I went in to talk to your creepy pervert boss. Do you see the way he has his eyes all over you? He's a freak. I was trying to have your back. I never hit him."
no subject
Very paranoid. Hartley knew that Wells had never been anything but professional with him, so he had no idea what could have triggered this kind of reaction. Usually this kind of behaviour from James was at least based on something, but apparently he had gotten even worse. "I'm trying to pay the bail, but... It's pretty high. I'm sorry."
no subject
Shit. "I can't believe this." All he wanted to do was protect Hartley from that psycho, he did nothing wrong, he even entered the place legally and now he was in fucking jail? "Wells is a total psycho, Hart. He's insane. Okay? He hit himself. He picked up that pencil holder and hit himself and I-I freaked. And then it was in my hands and I don't even know how it got there. He set me up." That cunning bastard. "You have to see it? Come on. The way he looks at you."
no subject
no subject
Calling him insignificant, uninteresting, a distraction that Hartley didn't need. To him, James was just some street rat that crawled its way into his precious lab. He kept provoking him, getting him angrier and angrier. Now he knew why. "He totally set me up."
no subject
no subject
"Fuck you." He was hurting, he was scared, he just wanted to lash out. And there was Hartley. "Fuck you and fuck Wells. You two queer assholes are welcome to each other." And with that, James slammed his phone back on the receiver and moved away before Hartley could see him tear up.