[008]

[bloodsugar]

A): phone - mid-morning.

[OPEN;]

[one hazard of spending a good deal of your time lurking on the phone lines is that one might become prone to forgetting that people can HEAR you while you listen. so, it's entirely innocent, of course, when the half-absent and somewhat petulant mumble comes across the phone lines sometime this morning.]

...all this talk of Valentines Day... honestly! As if they're rubbing it in some of us are destined to be forever alone. 'Vow of celibacy'? More like vow of perpetual and ongoing boredom.

[...a pause.]

It's not like I wanted to find out what a romantic holiday with another human being is like, regardless... eh? I'm sure edible underwear isn't all it's cracked up to be, anywa--

[...]

Eh? [wait for it.]

AH--

[...there's a rather flustered squawk, and a hasty CLICK of the phone into the cradle.]

[filter to Charles Fei-Ong]

Alright, so maybe I'm a little late in checking in. You'll forgive me, right? After all, I'm sure you've been busy collecting recipes and taste testing! [no really are you okay... :| last time he saw you, after all, was... uh, colorful, to say the least.]

...I don't suppose you'd be up for a cup of tea, Charles? [he has a feeling you'll just bs him even if you weren't alright over the phone, anyway. CLEARLY HE MUST BE NOSY IN PERSON.]

[filter to Esther Blanchett]

Esther-- do you have a minute? There's... ah, something I wanted to ask you. [AND IT DOESN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH EDIBLE UNDERWEAR HE SWEARS DEAR GOD.]

[filter to Django]

How are you holding up, partner? I hope the radio silence is because you've been gloriously enjoying the sunshine, hm? Making up for lost time and all that...! [are you okay partner? :(]

B): action; 1648 Albright Lane - lunchtime.

[there's the smell of something burning, late in the morning approaching lunchtime -- and if Rachel or Cain follows their nose, they might find the source in the form of one (1) Abel Nightroad with his drone wife's FRILLY PINK APRON several sizes too small draped around his neck and haphazardly tied back in the process of butchering... grilled cheese. yes, he is a total failure.

...somehow, he's gotten butter all over the counter and is trying to catch an overturned bottle of orange juice that is apparently spilling its contents over and onto the floor. the pan is burning and he's jostling cups and plates, trying not to drop EVERYTHING EVER as he fumbles to cease the spill of juice fruitlessly.

NO ONE SAID YOUR DAD WAS GOOD AT BEING DOMESTIC. this is why.]

C): action; around town - afternoon.

[the tall, lanky, and often times clumsy priest is among your streets today, Mayfield! anyone similarly prone to hitting up the bakery quite often might recognize his face, or simply wish to gape at the way he's leaving cheerily with a bag under his arm and so engrossed in the effort of inhaling the vanilla frosted doughnut in his hand he is clearly not paying attention to anything else. ...like the sidewalk. which, he may or may not inevitably trip over at an uneven crack and WOEFULLY lose his doubtlessly precious bounty as the bag tumbles to spill the fruits of his labor everywhere...

...and maybe his doughnut might happen to ah. misplace... itself from his hand and end up on your face. WHAT DO?]

D): action; church - evening.

[Abel's day eventually brings him to someplace to seek solace, to rest a weary soul... or something of that effect. one who enters might be hard pressed to FIND said priest who should be more or less easy to spot on the regular, right? how many 6'4 lanky bastards in cassock ARE there in here?

...but if one is apt enough, they might notice that the Father's side of the confessional is occupied. do you care to confess? ...or notice that said Father might just be lightly snoring if you listen hard enough...]

Comments

[bloodsugar]

One of their highest ranked members, yes. He's done terrible things. Been responsible for the greatest losses we've suffered, ever since they surfaced.

[kinship]

...And we both saved her?

[He's putting two and two together slowly, he's not quite there yet.]

[bloodsugar]

...yes, at... different times.

[he isn't exactly making it hard to connect the dots.]

I don't know why...

[kinship]

[Yeah, he's got there... and he's stuck staring for a moment.]

I'm a member of a terrorist organisation?

[bloodsugar]

[he sits a little straighter, and-- shakes his head, quickly.]

--That's not--

[well, it IS, isn't it?]

...It's... there's no way to draw a definitely link between the Orden and-- 01, Cain. [not you. 01. it -isn't- you.] I didn't even... realize that it was still--

[...alive.]

[kinship]

[Abel's evasive wording really isn't helping, but he's not... as disturbed by this as he should be. At least he's still alive, at least he's free (of a sort) even if it's just his body and not his mind.]

...

[bloodsugar]

[...

he finds his heart is beating harder in this silence. had he said the wrong thing...? he thought that this would only go over at some... acceptable level if he'd conceded a part of the truth with it, but... maybe it had been a mistake.]

[kinship]

[He's quiet for a long moment, trying to sort this through in his head before replying. He doesn't want there to be this barrier between them of Abel trying so carefully to pick his words, as though he were made of spun glass.]

...I need to know everything you do. No more word games or hiding, you can't... hide my future from me, it's not fair.

[bloodsugar]

...Not... fair?

[he hates that he's this transparent. to Esther, to Cain... the both of them, the people in Mayfield he wants to protect most -- neither one of them accepts what he is offering. he can be grateful that Esther won't press, but... Cain is like a dog with a bone. he sniffs it out and won't let it go.]

You don't think it's fair...? No one should know their own future, Cain. I've told you too much already.

[kinship]

[He bites back the unfair retort that... he had know all about his own future before Abel threw these curveballs his way, and only now was it cast into unsure confusion.]

You're my-- [Brother. Twin. Self.] --you can't hide from me, that's what's not fair, not right. These secrets, please don't hide this from me, it'll drive me insane.

[bloodsugar]

...I've told you everything I know.

[he can't be lying, right? after all, he had no idea that Cain was even alive. there is no way he could know that he's affiliated with anyone, or what he's been doing if that's the case.]

[kinship]

No, you haven't.

[He's no an idiot, maybe he doesn't know much more, but Abel's words have the ring of being chosen carefully and issues evaded... they have done since they first started discussing this. Hiding things about his death, about Crusnik, and now what Esther had said.]

Please, I just want to hear the whole truth, from you.

[From the person he shouldn't have to beg and prise the truth from. Is he being unfair? Childish and manipulative to ask this way? Yes, but he needs to know.]

[bloodsugar]

...

[no. it's an instantaneous reaction, internally -- showing in his abrupt rigidity, the way his expression becomes slightly more grim.]

There's... nothing else to say, Cain.

[kinship]

[It hurts worse than anything to be told no, to be lied to even by omission from Abel.]

...That's it?

[He's really going to refuse him?]

[bloodsugar]

Do we have to go down this road again...?

[he shifts to face his little brother more, reaching out to take his cheeks and look firmly into his eyes.]

It has been... a long time. A very, very long time... and whether you like it or not, you are still a child, no matter how intelligent, how... capable a child you might be. But more important than that... you are my brother. My brother... and this is my chance to protect you and love you like I should have back then.

I am not going to tell you everything. I never will. You can respect I have my reasons as your guardian, or you can resent me for it -- in the end, it isn't going to change my resolve. Knowing that truth will not give you peace of mind, Cain. However doggedly you pursue it, I'm not going to change my mind. You've gone through enough, already. At home, and here. Enough.

Knowing what 'might' happen won't change the here and now for either of us. I'm doing what... I think is best. That's... all I can do. [his expression is a grimace, as he rubs a thumb softly over his cheek.]

...That's all I can do.

[kinship]

[Abel... ;;

It's all too much. It's been building and building since-- well, since Halloween when he had first been told about Crusnik with Abel's regain of the cassock. It had grown with the Post Office, with Thanksgiving and losing his brother, with Christmas and New Year, with Mrs. Johnson and those screaming waking nightmares. And each time he had pushed it down and carried on, because it was what he needed to do in order to keep moving.

No matter what else might change in the town and what else might hurt them, he always had his brother and his future to work towards. And now his brother was behaving... like a guardian instead of his twin, someone who had always shared everything with as though they were really one person in two bodies. Now it was different, now there were secrets and... Abel has never been less like his angry-eyed twin. And the secrets being kept were those of his future, of how he had died or survived, of what became of him... how was he supposed to plan if he didn't know?!

Abel was just staring at him, cupping his cheeks as though some empty words were supposed to make it all better. As though he was supposed to be happy with 'no' and 'never'. It feels like there's a pressure building in his chest, and all his limbs are trembling - though in anger or distress he couldn't have said. He tilts his head away from those fingers at his cheeks, eyes cast away from his brother as though worried just the sight of him being a 'guardian' instead of a twin would set him off.

He's going to snap any second, taut as a bowstring, he can feel it. Then he might say things he'd regret, things he could never take back. He had to calm down, he had to keep his cool. There'd be a way to find it out, he just had to think-- think--- THINK--!]

...

[bloodsugar]

[angry. he's angry with me...

he imagined it was a justified response. without knowing the 'why,' this seemed... cruel and like Abel didn't trust him, didn't it? he hates it -- his chest panging hard at the sight of his brother responding so viscerally to what he'd said. in pain and emotions festering under the surface begging for a relief that Cain was denying himself.

even if he tilted his face away, Abel doesn't draw back -- instead trying to tilt their eyes back together again with an apologetic and guilty look.]

...I promise, it's...

[he won't say it's going to be okay or alright. it won't be, will it? even if he manages to miraculously find some way to make it so in this hellhole, it won't be when they inevitably return home if what everyone says is true. Cain won't remember anything; the future will go on as it had as part of Abel's past and the cogs of the machine will keep turning. unhampered. unchanging.]

Even if I don't tell you everything, I still love you. ...I never stopped. I never will.

[kinship]

[It was selfish and petty, but Cain didn't want to see Abel's guilt or distress right now... he didn't want to feel sorry for him and he didn't want to nod and accept it. He doesn't want to hear his promises, promises have become empty here through no fault of Abel's, and they're not the words he wants to hear.

But he meets Abel's eyes when his brother is more insistent about it, his own reflecting how utterly furious and betrayed he's feeling, even if it's not entirely justified.]

Don't--

[He doesn't want to hear another word. He misses his brother so viciously in that moment, the one he met two years ago who had been his from the outset. Why can't they share that here? Why does there have to be a divide?]

1/2

[bloodsugar]

[...]

[bloodsugar]

[he bites the inside of his lower lip, and... lets his fingers drop away as he leans a bit away to give him space.]

[kinship]

[Somehow that just makes it worse, he feels a horrible guilt for hurting Abel this way, for wishing he was the other Abel when they were both his brother and he loved so many things about this Abel more, and he instinctively wants to make it better.

It's too much, he doesn't know what to do any more, he feels like a child lost in the dark. He wants his future, he wants his brother, and he wants them all how he wants them, to his design.

His gaze remains on Abel's face for a moment more, before everything finally bubbles out of the little cracks he can't paste over fast enough, the anger crumples in on itself and he starts crying.]

[bloodsugar]

[...h... hey-- don't...

his brow instantly furrows in concern and guilt -- Cain, don't... don't cry. please don't cry. his hands hesitate, torn between reaching out for him when he just got pushed back -- would that make it worse? and consoling him. he's torn, stuck, just--]

C-- Cain...

[kinship]

You're all I have...

[Here and back home. Or all he had that mattered, anyway. He would trade in all his friends in a heartbeat for Abel, and never regret it for a moment. He's scared of this new relationship here in Mayfield, of putting all his trust so blindly in Abel knowing what's best for them both without having input, just having to trust him as adult to child.]

I don't want to lose you too. I want... I want to be us. You're not... not supposed to be my guardian. You're supposed to be my twin.

[bloodsugar]

[ahh.

the teary confession makes his mind up for him, and he ends up reaching out and tugging his tiny brother toward him into the firm and hopefully reassuring circle of his arms.]

...It's scary. Different than it's supposed to be, but...

[he ducks his head to press a little kiss into blonde hair, trying to offer comfort as his own heart tugged in empathetic pain.]

You and I are still... us. Just in a new way, Cain, it's... a different way to be us... but what's under it all is still the same. Nothing could ever make me not your brother.

[kinship]

I don't want it to be different.

[It's vehement, almost spat out against Abel's cassock, though he's not making any moves to pull free.]

Everything's different here, why can't we be... the same?