[yeah, as far as fuck ups go - it's a pretty bad one. or it would be if it was intentional, the way embry's trying to play it off for ash as an irresponsible night of drinking and flirting and tumbling into bed with an old flame. but it's not that, because nobody would fucking ask to be drugged through their already tortured thoughts and taken advantage of like that. that's not embry's brand of self-loathing or punishment. it's...well, hawk knows exactly what it is, but if he says the four letter word that sums it up succinctly he's afraid he'll watch embry shake apart in real time and utterly fall to pieces. what he needs right now is to know someone's in his corner, and that while this is the last thing ash or anyone else wants to deal with, hawk is going to clean up the mess. he's going to do his goddamn job, which actually does not require him to watch it, even if embry seems determined to get him to do it.]

Hey. Listen to me right now, Embry.

You didn't fuck this up, do you understand me?

[christ, why does the sudden thought of how he'd have treated tim in similar circumstances lance through him right now? he knows he's a ruthless son-of-a-bitch at best, and half the west wing would laugh till tears were in their eyes thinking about the smooth, polite aide that's risen in ranks with his sharp suits, even sharper favors and facts hidden away up his sleeve and in his pockets. a shark in the water - that the kind of man hawkins fuller is. maybe he has gone soft. maybe he's weak to let his own feelings cloud this - but at its core, this is a clear case of right and wrong. embry didn't choose this. nobody would. so while there's probably a lecture and an "i told you so" about the woman that raised his hackles in the first place, that's not the priority here.

he waits for acknowledgment before he stands up, keeping his presence less than imposing until embry slumps forward against him. his arms lift, slow and gentle - still worried he might startle at the touch - before settling around his shoulders and lightly rubbing along his back.]

This isn't on you.

[there are so many words he might say that all sound wrong, hollow and pitying which is the last thing embry would want - you were a victim. she took advantage. you're going to be okay.

he feels light pressure against his breastbone, glancing down to see embry fishing out his phone and blinking in surprise when he pulls back. his brows furrow briefly before smoothing out, the plan that had been rotating like the gears of his daily tuned watch finally clicking into succinct place. his voice is neutral, calm even as he fixes embry with a look.]

I don't have to watch it. [not because it's the right thing, or even because he doesn't want to see him hurt, but - ] It was my video. I did this. Too much scotch, a late night after putting in the time for you at the office - needed to blow off steam.

[he'll take the fall. all the heat that would come his way - it's nothing compared to embry having to admit what really happened.]

Yeah?