[Fern doesn't even spare the hand on his shoulder a small glance, as he falls back into his memories of Jon, covered in eyes. Jon, saying just wait a moment, and all of those eyes trained on him, looking straight into him. Past all the grass, the plant matter, into his head or his soul or whatever you want to call it.
Fern curls further in on himself as he cringes, unable to stop the flood of memories from causing him to relive the overwhelming sense of existential horror as he felt as if he was reaching back out to those eyes, even though he also knew he wasn't, and didn't want to. It wasn't him doing it, except it was, and he remembers Jon saying the thing inside you.]
He wouldn't stop, I had to make him stop somehow! And - and -
[It's all building up, until Fern is ripping the ears of his grass hat right off.]
cw: sort-of-self-harm
Fern curls further in on himself as he cringes, unable to stop the flood of memories from causing him to relive the overwhelming sense of existential horror as he felt as if he was reaching back out to those eyes, even though he also knew he wasn't, and didn't want to. It wasn't him doing it, except it was, and he remembers Jon saying the thing inside you.]
He wouldn't stop, I had to make him stop somehow! And - and -
[It's all building up, until Fern is ripping the ears of his grass hat right off.]
It still feels like he's doing it!