[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]

[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?

[bloodsugar]

[...so, it's... that. at the heart of it all, this is what has him so upset, isn't it?

Abel strokes a few fingers slowly through Cain's hair in some effort to soothe or apologize.]

...I don't know. I don't... know, why. [he can't make himself that boy you want, Cain. but... he would if he could.]

[kinship]

[No, it's not that, not entirely. There's so much about Abel like this that he's grateful for - the affection towards him, the ease with which he smiles...]

Stop... stop treating me like a child.

[It's a stupid thing to say, because he is one. But he means he wants to be treated as an equal, as they should be.]

[bloodsugar]

I can't.

[he wanted truth; he is getting it. Cain is ten; he isn't an adult, and however strong and intelligent and sharp he is... he can't NOT be a child. Abel will not hold him to an adult's standards... and he won't burden him with things that a child has no right bearing, either.]

[kinship]

[He doesn't know if he'd rather cling or push Abel away more, it's hard and it still feels like his heart is being squeezed.]

...I'm not...

[He is. But he can handle it, he's sure. He has absolute misguided and arrogant belief in his own ability to handle things and carry on.]

[bloodsugar]

You are.

[it might be hard to swallow -- Cain had always possessed charisma and poise beyond those twice, three times his years, but... he was STILL a child, even with those talents. and a child was not equipped to deal with all of this...

...an adult would not.

he shakes his head.]

[kinship]

[It says something, probably not a very good something, that Cain is far more concerned about Abel not being completely honest with him than he is about becoming a terrorist in the future.

His fingers curl in Abel's cassock, tight and strong, refusing to let go. He doesn't want the balance between them to change, he's... frightened of it, he's frightened of losing Abel to all the other people he cares about; which is silly, he can love more than one person.]

...

[bloodsugar]

[Abel hasn't even thought on that, yet... :| he figures this needs time to digest. all of it. this is such a mess...

he keeps running fingers through his hair, quietly. he doesn't know what else to do, how to comfort him.]

[kinship]

Will you...

[He swallows hard, trying to bite back the tears and gain some semblance of control.]

...will you come and find me, now you know?

[He means back home, back in Abel's home. Surely if his brother comes for him, there's a chance he could gain control instead of being the puppet.]

[bloodsugar]

...I will.

[find him, and...

...]

[kinship]

Then... I know we can still be together again.

I'm in there, I have to be. It's just... a reverse. You don't exist without Crusnik, you exist together, so it has to be the same.

[And if he's inside, if Abel can get to him, it will all be okay.]

[bloodsugar]

[is it sad that some part of him believes that...?

would he be so eternally guilty if he didn't believe that he had thrown him out of the airlock, believing that there had been some part of him left behind...

he swallows against the lump in his throat, and settles for pulling his brother a little closer. he'll... kill him if he has to. if there is no other way, then that is what he will have to do. but he wants so badly to believe there is hope to save him, if he's really still alive...]

[kinship]

[It is a very good thing and a good call for Abel to not tell Cain that possibility and his resolve to do so if necessary, that would not go down well.

He can't believe he's half wishing for the simpler life back on the colony, where they at least knew they had each other and that would never change.]

...love you.

[bloodsugar]

...you shouldn't... do this to yourself.

[his voice is quiet as he tries to tilt his brother's head up, forcing his tone to be even despite the pit in his stomach.]

As much as you wish you weren't... a child, Cain... you are one. You can't swallow everything up like this... you know that, don't you? It will eat at you.

[kinship]

[He's too frightened to do otherwise, pathetically a coward underneath... he doesn't want to show vulnerability and he's scared of not being able to piece himself back together if he lets it out and it shatters him.

But after all his fierce words about the truth to Abel, he can't make himself lie and say it was all okay. So he just stays silent, face buried in Abel's chest as though he could pretend he hadn't heard him.]

[bloodsugar]

[same person, down to the last strand of DNA -- same base fears and anxieties and faults, is that it? cowardice... just another string that binds them.

Abel doesn't know what to do with the silence -- he doesn't know if he's being denied, or outright ignored, if Cain is still angry... so he falls silent, letting him draw whatever comfort he can garner from being held if that's what he needs... :(]

[kinship]

[He wants to scream and bite and kick and rage, understanding why Abel had done all those things now, but he won't. His fingers just tighten painfully rigid in Abel's clothes, nose smushed firmly into his chest.

What does he do, Abel? Tell him where to go from here. Tell him again it's all going to be okay and he's doing the right thing, your validation is all he needs to paste on a smile again.]