Entry tags:
[open] feeling numb most of the time
WHO: Cairngorm and others
WHERE: the harbor, around town, gem haus which has air conditioning
WHEN: late july into early august
WHAT: Cairngorm comes back from dying! They zone out by the water for a while before wandering back into town after their existential crisis.
WARNINGS: possible mentions of suicidal ideation
i. the wallowing option
WHERE: the harbor, around town, gem haus which has air conditioning
WHEN: late july into early august
WHAT: Cairngorm comes back from dying! They zone out by the water for a while before wandering back into town after their existential crisis.
WARNINGS: possible mentions of suicidal ideation
i. the wallowing option
[ When they wake up, they’re in one piece.ii. the not wallowing option
Miraculously, maybe. Whether it’s by fate or by the hands of a mysterious other power here, they can’t ever know, but when they wake up, their sketchy body is one white blob as opposed to several dismembered white blobs. With the number of people who have died, it’s only natural that no one can tell who they are with this vague appearance - practically everyone is trying to suss out who each white blob is. That’s fine by them. They don’t make an effort to try and let people know who they are, not responding to people’s guesses or flat out avoiding making contact with others. They aren’t ready to speak to anyone, and it’s a comfortable familiarity to shrink back into inexistence, especially after something so hard for them to grasp going through.
Once they start to regain color and their features, they take to laying near the cliffs overlooking the harbor, legs dangling over the edge. They either don’t care that their weight could send them tumbling down the cliffside into the water below (people like Magilou are the first to know they break these cliffs when they get too close to the edge), or don’t think it’s a possibility - but with Cairngorm’s characteristically cautious attitude, it seems more likely that it’s the former.
They can be found laying there at any point in the time of their transformation back into full gem-ness, sometimes staring blankly at the sky, merely taking in sunlight, and at other times, eyes closed calmly. If seen from a distance, it might be easy to guess that it’s them lying out there with the unnatural stillness that they lay there for more than a full day, not needing to eat or do anything else - and most of all, even letting insects crawl and land on them without so much as a flinch. It seems like they’re wholly zoned out, not even reacting to any obvious sounds of someone approaching - to any onlooker, they truly look like a lifeless statue. ]
[ With the heatwave that’s in town, they’re spending as much time in the sun as they can. Will taking in light from the sun reverse the effects of their death? Probably not. But they suspect that they still need the sun’s rays to completely heal from being broken apart like they were in the forest - there were still seams at their neck and thighs from the breaks, so they’ve washed off all their powder, leaving them walking around town in their powderless form. It may be the first time since many people of the town have seen Cairngorm’s powderless form, dark and inky as opposed to the stark white powder they have on. What’s more is that they seem to be lacking their usual luster on the account of still regaining all their features, the living jewel seeming strangely matte despite the lack of powder that mutes the shine of their skin.
When they finally come back to town from ruminating by the harbor for a few days, definitely later than some of the other revived, they do what they can to act normal, taking a path straight through the center of town back to their home in Flavo. Whether they catch your eye because you’re a friend relieved to see them back, or just someone surprised by their dark form, they give you a Look that’s half confusion and half concern. ]
...Staring at me, are you?
[ It’s awkward, and they’re hoping hoping hoping it’s just the luster that’s earning them attention rather than their brush with mortality. ]
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I'm just worried.
[ They murmur, softly and sadly. Even with him by their side, they can't bring themself to look at him, grateful as they are for his presence. They're sure he really believes what he's saying; that he isn't just saying it in an attempt to placate them. But, the uncertainty lingers, of course - they always have trouble relying on the benefit of the doubt. ]
If this will have an effect on me later... like keeping me from leaving. That sort of thing happens in fairy tales a lot.
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Then we'll find a way to get you out.
[ he speaks in a tone that brooks no argument, as he often does. This time, though, it's punctuated with a slight falter in his expression, a guilty dimming of that light as his lips pull taut. Cairngorm has a hard time believing in him as it is; his utter failure to prevent this from happening in the first place certainly won't make him seem any more reliable now, trying to pick up the metaphorical pieces. He hates it. Failure isn't supposed to be an option for him at all.
But he's stubborn - and even if he's beating himself up, he won't be broken by this. Especially not when it comes to them, and even more when it comes to their escaping this place. The very idea of leaving them trapped here is unfathomable. He shakes his head. ]
I'm not leaving without you. If there's some problem later, we'll deal with it together. We're partners, too. [ a beat. ] ... I'll be there. This won't happen again.
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Of course you'd say that.
[ They keep their tone level, no haughty note of challenge to it. Just a tired exhale, and a closing of their eyes. This is time old tradition between them at this point; Lupin's determined optimism versus Cairngorm's bitter realism. ]
Even when you'll have to leave without me, eventually. [ They're in a weird mood, disoriented and unstable, so the inevitable end just slips out sort of bluntly, their hand leaving his arm to tuck hair behind their ear. The wind is always stronger out by the sea. ] I don't want you stuck here for my sake, you know.
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Would it be crass to bring it up now, while they're in this state already? Or would it be careless of him not to, and to leave them thinking there was no hope while they're here at one of their lowest points? Lupin's quiet for a moment. ]
Are you so certain I will?
[ he doesn't reach out to cup their cheek or caress them or whatever else; he just stares at them, quite seriously. A weaker man might doubt his ability to protect them for a lifetime after letting them get so hurt - Lupin simply uses those doubts to fuel his resolve. No - he can't let it happen again. ]
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....What are you saying?
[ Their tone is pushy and demanding, even in it's shaky quietness. Just what is he implying? What goes unsaid in his question seems obvious enough, but they need to hear him say it, they need to know in clear terms that all those one day, I won't see you anymore's aren't what he's envisioning now. They seem afraid to even confirm it, like they're both treading on thin ice that they've been tip toeing around since the start. ]
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[ it's asking a lot - the enormity of the request is exactly why he hasn't said anything until now - but he doesn't falter: his mind's made up. Lupin's been hesitant to try and sway their path from the start. Cairngorm has enough trouble making their own choices and deciding what's right for them; intervening would just make him part of the problem. However, on this matter - the matter of their happiness - he thinks he can be allowed to push. And it's not just theirs, either - it's his. Could he really go back to life without them, knowing they were suffering in their world (or worse, trapped here by this, like they're suggesting?) He can't imagine being able to carry on as before with the memories of them still fresh in his heart.
Maybe he's being selfish. But so what? Let him be selfish. In the end, after all, he is a jewel thief; how could Arsène Lupin let his finest prize slip through his fingers? ]
I know you've got your duties back home - but I'm almost as sure you'll be miserable and in danger. [ a beat. ] ... I don't want to send you back there. I want to keep you.
[ another pause; he quirks a half-smile, faintly, a little apologetic. ]
It's fine if you haven't got a response yet. But I do want you to think about it.
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Isn't this what they've always wanted? For someone to favor them and think of them first? It's always been foreign to be stared at or singled out, but the most foreign sensation of all is feeling genuine and steadfast care, a love so strong that it transcends worlds. It shakes them to their core, enough so that their head bows just slightly, fingers threading through his before they can think about it. ]
Lupin, [ They start, struggling for words. It can't be wrong for them to feel so relieved and so whole from hearing this, can it? But there's a bitter aftertaste, deep seated and nagging that keeps them from cherishing this in full. Always their obligations. They hate that thoughts of who will take care of winter, and who will protect Phos are all interrupting and casting a selfish light on what should be one of the happier moments of their life.
It's so frustrating.
They hate this, that they can't choose what they want and simply agree. But they can't. And they don't want to flat out reject, either— that's not what they want at all. ] I want to be free from it.
[ If they were free from everything that's been asked of them, they'd go, is the implication. The truth is, they'd trade everything for him if they could. Home, the forged partnership they had with Phos— it all pales in comparison. It's a testament to how much they've changed here that they can even recognize that they want to get away from it, that they want more from their life than to always be a shadow of someone else. ]
But... [ It is killing them inside to say this. It isn't fair. ] I— I don't know if I can.
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Truth be told, he doesn't know if he can. He doesn't know how this place works more than anyone else does - when they find a way home, who's to say they'll have enough control over whatever it is to allow Cairngorm to come with him? There's no proof. Nothing other than his own will. But that's enough for him. They've visited each other's homes before, if only in dreams and other facsimiles; it can't be impossible. He'll find a way. Hearing them agree, or want to agree, only strengthens that feeling. That means they love him so much that they'd be willing to forsake everything for him, after all - meager as that "everything" may be - and only the somber circumstances of this discussion keep him from rushing forward to meet that love with his own. They want a life with him...
(He's sure he'll spend a lot of time thinking about that later. For now, he needs to take care of them.) ]
... Because of what Ghost told you.
[ an educated guess, based on their last conversation. His tone is soft; his free hand, unable to resist any longer, gently cups their chin, urging them to look up and meet his eyes. ]
There's no shame in putting your own happiness first. Especially when it's so hard-won. [ but his words won't be able to convince them of this; he knows it already. Not for the first time, he wishes he knew what would. Tentatively, he offers a smile - very small, gently reassuring. ] I don't mind waiting for you to find out. Consider it a standing offer.
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...I'm sorry. [ Their voice doesn't go above a mutter. They really, really don't deserve this. He's always offering things to them and going so far out of the way - and they can't even follow him in return. That's shameful in itself. They wish they could be the kind of person someone like Lupin deserves to have by his side - someone able to pay him back, someone eager and free to stay with him - but for now, all they can do is apologize that they aren't, and bring their shoulders in guiltily, as if trying to make themself smaller. ]
You shouldn't have to wait. I didn't know you wanted me to go with you, though...
[ After all, this isn't something Lupin ever suggested or hinted at to them; between them, it was far more common for them to speak realistically about the end whenever the topic came up. Naturally, they'd never go so far as to believe on their own that he'd want them enough to ask this. They assumed the avoidance of the topic, even amidst the knowledge that other pairs have decided to go together, had meant the opposite. The suddenness of his want to keep them makes this all the harder to process, especially with their head already swimming. ]
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[ they haven't turned him down, after all; closer to the opposite. Lupin can't quite determine what they're apologizing about until they go ahead and put it into words, and then he can only smile and shake his head. Cairngorm only ever seems to consider him extraordinary and out of reach when it comes to situations like this, comparing him to themself, and he wishes they wouldn't - he sees them as an equal, for all the differences between them. But their lack of self-esteem is nothing new or surprising. He brushes his thumb over their cheek, affectionate and reassuring, before setting his hands on their shoulders even as they shrink away, refusing to let Cairngorm run off into their head too far. ]
... I do. I've been turning it over in my head for a while now.
[ on this, though, perhaps he's been sloppy - he can't place the blame entirely on Cairngorm's low self-worth when he hasn't included them in his decision-making. ]
It's a selfish request to make, I know - especially after all I've said to you about making your own decisions. [ he didn't want to put pressure on Cairngorm, who is so easily swayed by the will of others; he's sure they'd listen to anything he asked, which is precisely why he always goes so far out of his way to put the power of choice in their hands. This flies in the face of that. But... ] ... But I've decided I'd rather be selfish than go on without you.
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Since he's let go of their hand, they reach out to latch on to the fabric of his coat at the waist, wanting to hold onto him somehow, too. They've always been worried deep down about being selfish, the last words their sibling uttered to them making them hyper-aware of the notion - so for Lupin to choose to be selfish to avoid leaving them truly does mean something special to them. ]
I don't know what to say. [ They admit, after a prolonged pause. They can't bring themself to reject him, and yet, they can't make themself accept, either, so they're at a loss, on top of their cloudy thoughts about their death. ] You're asking me all of a sudden after thinking about it for a long time.
[ It's a complaint with no bite, more like an explanation for their less than exact response. They meet his eyes, their gaze soft, and they tug on the fabric, wanting to bring him closer to embrace. ]
It's not like I want to go without you. [ They snake their arms around his waist, obscuring their face from his view. ] I don't know what I'd do.
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[ they hardly need to prompt him to hold them; normally, he'd be delighted that they initiated any affection, but this time, it only speaks to how fragile they are in this moment. Their head is heavy against him, their arms cold. His own wrap around the thin frame of their shoulders, pulling them in as close as he can, as close as they'll allow, heedless of their weight, as usual. In this moment, he doesn't care. He just doesn't want them to be alone. And -- he doesn't want to be without them, again, either. Not now. Not ever.
Because that's what he's asking, too, even if it's only implicit. If they come to his world, he knows for a fact there's no technology that will send them back. He sets his jaw and closes his eyes. Common sense dictates that he should be more anxious about offering such a permanent thing, but he doesn't feel any fear - only certainty and determination, and love, too, always love, for their delicate emotions and proud, defenseless heart. ]
We're just the same. [ he rests his cheek against their hair, as he often does. ] I've been going mad these past few weeks, thinking you were gone.
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[ They ask, quietly and vulnerable in the way he's only seen a handful of times. Like the brief moment after he'd seen into their heart, like when Ghost Quartz had suddenly appeared in the well. They won't let him pull back and see their sorrowful expression, they decide, resting their chin heavily on his shoulder. They just feel so unbearably sad and torn hearing this from him. Not because what he's saying saddens them, per se, but because they're fully certain that no one would miss them like this were they back where they came from. If they disappeared or smashed themself in the ice floes, it'd be mostly insignificant. And that's the world they feel they have to go back to— one where they're not really anything, much less anyone.
They've yearned to mean something to someone for so long that this particular admission breaks their metaphorical heart, grateful and aching all at the same time. It should be obvious that he'd react that way— it wouldn't be the first time he's gotten upset over them disappearing suddenly. But even knowing the significance of this bond between the two of them, self-doubt always weighs heavily down on them, making any explicit confirmation of their worth all the more dear to their admittedly fragile heart. ]
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I was.
[ And they were gone, too; the knowledge sticks painfully inside him, like a thorn in his heart, and he holds them a little tighter. He can't fail again. If anything really happened to them, permanently, it would tear a hole in him. That their life was snuffed out even temporarily is bad enough. Lupin wishes he knew a way he could convey that to them without making them feel worse - feel guilty for what happened to them, because he knows they already are. His eyes cast downwards at the ground and the cliff beyond them. ]
I could barely sleep, not knowing what had happened to you. I walked every centimeter of this town trying to find you. I've hardly done anything else the weeks you've been away. [ maybe they don't realize how much time he spends thinking about them... after a moment or two, he admits: ] ... I was scared that I'd lost you.
[ rare for him to say he's scared of anything, but he was. ]
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...I'm sorry.
[ They can't help but apologize again. They're sorry he's gone so far for them, and they're sorry for worrying him, too, but they don't specify between them. The two of them have been here before. Cairngorm used to say you shouldn't have done that or you didn't have to, but this time, they can't bring themself to say it, just clinging onto the notion he'd done so at all like a lifeline. When he holds them tighter, they want to return the gesture as much as he is, but they settle for tightening just the slightest amount - gently, always gently. ]
You're always... [ It's a start, but they don't finish. Then, they sigh, leaning on him as much as they think he can handle. ] ...We really are the same.
[ It's as bittersweet as it is comforting, this dedication they have to each other and how far they're both willing to go. They can only imagine they'd be doing the exact same thing if their roles had been reversed, and they admit this to him openly, even in the face of trying to accept, again, that he's for real, that he won't waver, that this is all for them. ]
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[ their body is as heavy as ever, but he leans back against them with everything he's got, trying his best to support them. Like he could blame them for this - the same thing happened to him, too. He just had luck on his side. As usual. Lupin wishes it had lasted him a bit longer. But, he supposes, they came back, and the stone weight against his shoulders is proof enough of that. He'll hold them as long as they need. (He thinks he needs it a little, too.) ]
My intention wasn't to make you feel sorry; it was to let you know that. [ if it wasn't patently obvious by the fact that Lupin wants to bring them back home with him, well - actually, he knows Cairngorm has a hard time believing it at all, that he cares for them as much as he does, no matter how much he tells them. Keep saying it, though, and one day, maybe they'll start caring, too. That's his hope. ] When it comes to you and your happiness, I'll do whatever it takes. That's a promise.
[ if this makes things complicated later, this death - he'll find a way to overcome that. True, he's not perfect. He failed here - but that only means he has to try even harder. ]
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For a while, they don't say anything, just pulling him in tighter after he says what he does, knowing it's enough for them to just hear what he says, to try again to believe in it. More than that, there's something sacred about the moment, this reunion and these confessions and these questions about the future. They should feel uneasy about this sort of unpredictable future, and the harrowing question of whether they can abandon their assigned fate. But next to him, they feel at ease, always comforted by his promises and steadfast words. Lupin makes them want to believe in something better for themself, and that's the best thing he's ever been able to give them in their time here.
It's not as if they can heal all at once, from their lack of self worth and from the helplessness they feel towards their duty, but doing so a little at a time isn't all for naught. After a long silence, they draw back, raising their cold hand to his cheek, cupping the line of his jaw. Their pale eyes still read distantly sad - they almost always do - but the concern overshadows it, the familiar crease in their brow setting in. ]
...You must be so tired.
[ Staying up the way he had over this... they know he doesn't sleep the way other humans do (and should), but they can't help but feel worried, especially when they're the reason he pushed himself like this. ]
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The cold feeling of their hand against his face refocuses his attentions. He's not surprised, per se, but he still blinks once or twice, the barest suggestion of pink coming into his cheeks. It still feels like a rare treat when they touch him like this - like a lover. But then he's smiling again, wry and proud as ever, though it's perhaps a bit affected. ]
Nonsense. I could have kept on for another month. [ a pause. ] Besides, that should be my line. Let's get you home.