nysalogs | ( catch-all )

I despise it when you lie. You can start by doing less of it.

[ Percival says plainly, and perhaps it's a good thing that he's finding it easier to speak honestly the longer he beholds Cain and confirms that he is indeed in front of him again. In what universe would this constitute "fine"?

He sighs, taking another step forward and pressing the back of his palm to Cain's forehead. He isn't feverish, at least. But despite how worse for wear Cain appears, it isn't the physical scars that worry him the most. He leans down to pull the covers further over him. ]

Rest up. I will be here when you wake. I don't intend to wander off any farther than the small garden nearby. [ He isn't entirely sure why he feels he needs to offer this information to Cain... perhaps because he knows that if he were in Cain's position, he wouldn't feel at ease letting him slip away from his fingers so soon after coming back. ]

[ That reassurance is the only thing that keeps Cain in bed, keeps Cain from insisting that they talk now, before he— before he loses Percival all over again. He finds himself leaning into the touch of Percival's hand against his forehead for just a brief moment, allowing himself that much — just that much before he pulls away. He won't take more than that when Percival still wishes this distance between them, no matter how much Cain's itching for more contact. No matter how much he wants more than this, to prove to himself that Percival is truly whole and well.

He has to breathe shallowly, keeping himself still as Percival fusses with the blankets, tucking them in around him. Has to hide his hands under the covers and clench them in the sheets to keep himself from reaching for Percival and pulling Percival to him as he wants to. Percival's so close that he can breathe him in, could just lean forward, rest his head against Percival's shoulder, let Percival take his weight against his chest—

But Cain doesn't have the right to such intimacy, no matter how much he wishes for it. No matter how much he wants to embrace Percival, no matter how much he wants to throw his arms around Percival and feel him solid and real and alive. He has to sit here, straining to keep himself still. This is the bed he's made, and he has to lie in it.

And if what Percival says stings — that's only because it's true. Lies of omission, lies about his own wellbeing. In the end, it's all still lies.

It's just that usually no one calls him on them. Usually, he's much better at hiding them, but Percival— he'd been better at hiding them, but now, Percival's seen through all of it, hasn't he?

He doesn't know what to say to that. To being seen through so thoroughly. In the end, he can't find anything at all to say to it. But he can at least offer something true, easier when the position he's in has his hair falling to hide his face from Percival's gaze. ]

...I'm glad you're safe. When I felt it— [ It had been like the world went cold. It had been like losing his brother all over again. But even now, he doesn't have the right to ask Percival not to go. ] You should rest, too.

[ Emotional scars on the magnitude of what he'd suffered never truly heal. Instead, they become a part of his past that shapes his decisions and actions in future experiences. The worst of one's memories become demons that one must battle with on a regular basis, but Percival is and will remain someone who looks towards the future rather than dwell on the past.

It was necessary to take the time he had, to heal and spend time with friends, to face his own fears of venturing too far past Olympia again. But eventually, as he'd promised Cain he would, he returns and doesn't stray.

It's certainly very odd that there seems to be something wrong with their front door, and in his absence was poorly patched. Had they faced some sort of home invader? It's concerning. But after being told by Vane not to worry, he pushes the issue to the back of his mind as a non-priority.

This, however, is important.

He feels a bit foolish at the state he's in at the moment, reduced to knowing on his own bedroom door to be granted access. It feels formal and awkward. ]

[ There's no answer from Percival's room — from their room. Instead, there's a stirring on the couch — a previously unremarkable pile of blankets sitting up, revealing itself to be Cain, sleep-mussed and bleary-eyed. He'd been curled in on himself in such a small, tight ball that he'd been unnoticeable, easy to walk past, dead asleep as he was, exhausted after a day of finally managing to escape his minders and find a little trouble.

One of his bandages has come undone in his sleep, showing the angry red of still-healing wounds running down the length of his arm. Hastily, Cain tugs down his sleeve as he blinks at Percival, his sleep-fogged mind taking a moment to register what he's seeing. ]

You're back. [ He can't hide the rush of relief. It's been days without seeing Percival. Long enough that he'd wondered if Percival even wanted to see him again at all, if this new much larger distance between them, the room Percival had asked for, time to think, wasn't something permanent.

Then, he notices where Percy's standing, Percy's hand raised to knock. He's still sleepy enough to speak without thinking. ] Ah, you can go in, I haven't been sleeping there, anyway.

[ Percival is surprised to hear the other's voice coming from behind him. He doesn't have enough time to hide neither surprise nor immediate worry when his gaze settles on the other's still-inflamed wound.

Despite everything, despite telling himself that keeping their separate paths was for the best, his heart still beats a little faster whenever Cain is in the vicinity.

It must be that Volkkran Pact again. Or the overwhelming concern regarding his injuries. It must be... ]

There's no need. I wasn't looking to go into the bedroom in particular.

...I was looking for you. [ He does briefly wonder why Cain has been rejecting the bed in favor of the couch, but honestly, if he's dealing with the events that happened similarly to Percival, it must be hard to get any sleep at all lately.

He nods towards the undone bandage on Cain's arm. ]

You were too careless in your sleep, and you're going to do more harm than good if you keep aggravating the wound. Sit down. [ He has to retrieve fresh bandages, but thankfully, they've been replenished since the last time he had to tend to Cain. ]

[ For once, Cain doesn't pout and point out that he can't help if he moves in his sleep, or that he's already sitting. He doesn't sulk and complain that he's been doing nothing but sitting since he was rescued from the academy, that if he sits for much longer, he'll start growing mold and little seedlings will sprout. For once, Cain waits quietly on the couch, his sleeve still tugged up over the wound, but with his arm held obediently on his lap. Waiting for Percy to come back with the bandages to tend to the injury without doing anything more to try to hide it, absently toying with the unwound end of the bandage, tangling it between slender fingers.

He waits until Percy's settled in front of him and takes a slow, deep breath. And then he makes himself look up, into Percy's eyes. Whatever this is, he won't do Percival the dishonor of anything but meeting it head on.]

Well, you've found me... [ He pulls a smile onto his face, even though he doesn't really feel like smiling. But he's got a lot of practice — why isn't it coming more easily? ] You're not here to yell at me, too, are you?

[ Percival works slowly and carefully, with all of the care he wishes he could have tended to him with while they were captive. He thinks he remembers exactly when this wound was inflicted, or perhaps his memory is failing him, but he has to force himself to take his mind and return it to the present.

The present, where they're both alive, and all of their loved ones have somehow made it out alive, and Cain is smiling at him, but rather than anger him, it just makes his heart tighten. ]

I'm here to talk. I told you we had many things to discuss, didn't I? I know that scolding you is futile... and in the end, what ground do I have to stand on? You made it out of there alive, and I did not.

[ He pauses, diverting his gaze. ]

I'm sorry. Not only was I not able to do anything in your time of need, but to think, I hurt you directly—! [ It's difficult not to get wound up already, seeing the bruise on Cain's face from the impact he'd inflicted himself. He reaches up to ghost his fingers over it carefully, a sorrowful look in his eye. ]

[ The smile falls away — vanishes, wiped clean off Cain's face by that apology. He shivers under the gentle touch of Percival's hand, holds himself still; he can't stand that look, one that he knows all too well. He hates that Percival blames himself, and even though his arm isn't fully wrapped, Cain lifts his hand, trapping Percival's fingers, clasping Percival's hand against his cheek, unwilling to let that sorrow stand a moment longer. ]

No. No, there's no need for you to apologize. If anyone's to blame, it's those who bespelled us in the first place. Or me, for getting us into that mess. But it wasn't your fault.

[ He leans forward a little, trying to catch Percival's gaze again, beseeching. He'd almost rather have Percival scolding him, yelling at him — better that than this awful resignation, the blame Percival's carrying, the guilt. ]

It wasn't your fault at all, Percival. All that we have to discuss... I'm the one who owes explanations, who owes apologies. [ His fingers tighten on Percival's, just a tiny squeeze. I despise it when you lie. You can start by doing less of it, Percival had said. The truth, then. ] I'm the one who got you killed. I should start with an apology for that.

[ Percival looks back up, wide-eyed and curious when Cain takes his hand. It renders him unable to keep tending to the wound, which is perhaps not in his best interest, but he wants to listen to Cain wholeheartedly.

He stays quiet, in truth, not completely understanding, but wanting to understand. ]

Why do you say it was your fault? [ What happened wasn't anyone's fault in particular. ] The only ones to blame were the extremists.

[ At least Percival's looking at him again — but that only makes what Cain has to say harder, the admission a stone hanging around his neck. A noose drawing tighter, leaving him feeling as choked as he had when it'd been Percival's hands squeezing the breath from him. ]

You know there's blame to lay at my feet. [ He says quietly, but with resolve. It's a truth he's known ever since he saw Takasugi lead Percival into that room. A truth that he's accepted, resigned himself to, just one of many that he has to bear. ] The man who tortured us only took such an interest in harming you because of me. You were only in that position in the first place because of what I've been doing.

[ He pauses, explanations brimming in his throat. But no. No, Percival deserves the right to judge him before he makes excuses for what he's done. ]

[ Percival knows, he knew from the moment that man had opened his mouth, that the pain he'd been subjected to was for the purpose of making Cain suffer. He keeps his voice low, even, trying not to let the frustration show that Cain continues blaming himself even while this explanation still doesn't warrant feeling guilt. ]

That man, he was the one that stabbed you not too long ago, wasn't he? [ He keeps his eyes on the other man, but his hand slips away, if only because he has to continue working on the task of patching Cain back up. ]

[ Cain sucks in a sharp breath; he has to stifle the reflexive denial, the instinct that knowing will only put Percival in more danger. What more danger could there be, when Percival's already died? Not knowing didn't do a damned thing to keep Percival safe, didn't keep Percival out of any trouble. Takasugi still found his way to Percival, and Percival was only left all the more helpless with being unawares.

Slowly, he lowers his hand back to his lap to let Percival resume his bandaging. It's as much an acceptance of Percival's care as tacit promise that he'll finally answer all the questions he's been dodging. Reveal all the things he thought he was protecting Percival by keeping from him. ]

Yes. He was. We were doing a job together, for the Gilded Cage. [ Another secret, Cain's involvement with the organization. Another crime he has to confess. ] We'd happened upon some merchants who were slaughtered for their wares. He might have killed them; at the time, I wasn't certain, but now...

[ Cain trails off for just a moment. Now, looking back, he realizes he was a fool to have doubted his own instinct, to have given Takasugi the leeway of a lack of proof. ]

He was callous, speaking of their deaths, and I lost my temper and struck him. And in return, he drew his weapon upon me, took that wound as fair payment, and then— helped me finish the job.

[ What had made Takasugi so frustrating, his bouts of help and his equal turns to cruel amusement. Cain had thought there was more to the man, more than the edge of his blade— Well. He's been proven wrong. ]

[ Perhaps, now with the context of some of Cain's past and what was revealed in that disturbing room, Percival can understand a bit more of Cain's logic, and why he's kept so much away from them. It's not a good feeling, to be terribly honest, to feel like Cain regards him as someone that needs protecting.

Not when he's dedicated his entire life to the protection of others, and upheld the principle of being strong enough not to depend on anyone.

Well, that's not entirely true. He has accepted that there isn't any shame in getting a little bit of help from others.

But he doesn't protest, merely continue to listen and keep a carefully neutral expression as he continues working. He also feels incredibly silly. Even something as simple as tending to Cain's wounds, or rather, touching Cain's arm, feels like coming home after a long time. ]

Why would you ally yourself with such a man? Why are you doing jobs for the Gilded Cage, Cain? You must be aware that they're a criminal organization... I know that you're not a complete fool. They unleashed a deadly virus on the populations of both cities.

[ He begins applying a bit of bandage tape now, eyes clouded with even more confusion. ]

So forgive me if I don't understand what you're trying to accomplish by working with criminals.

They're dangerous, and they'll hurt people again; that's exactly why.

[ Fervent with Cain's conviction, and Cain tips his head up a little, a wordless plea for Percival to listen, to understand.

He's afraid. He can admit that. He's afraid that Percival won't understand, that Percival will hear all of this, all that's yet to be said, and decide that he wants no part of it. No part of Cain.

He's afraid of losing Percival. He's already felt it, when the Pact had gone cold, Percival's flame extinguished — when it had felt like something necessary and vital had been ripped right out of his chest.

But keeping Percival at arms' length hasn't kept him safe. And if Cain doesn't explain, if he doesn't force the words out, reveal everything that he usually keeps so closely guarded — so much that by now it's habit to keep these secrets — then losing Percival is a certainty.

He pushes on; he has to trust — trust Percival, trust whatever there is between them. ]

They released that virus. They have the resources for far more than such an attack, and I can assure you, they aren't satisfied to stop at just that. We're strangers to this land; I can't dismantle an entire criminal organization without resources, without manpower, without information. [ All the things he'd had access to in Idelva, as Pholia's favored general. Things that, until he'd arrived on El Nysa, he'd almost taken for granted. ] The only chance I have at stopping their next move is to be close enough to see it coming.

[ It's easier, somehow, to say this with Percival's hand on his. Easier, to have that touch to ground him. It doesn't feel so much like he's being judged, doesn't feel like Percival is moments away from condemning him and pulling away. Even if Percival is only seeing to his wound, Cain's grateful for the contact, for the warmth of Percival's skin against his. ]

And Takasugi... He helped me, at first. At first, I'd thought he could be an ally within the Cage. I was wrong. Now, he's a dagger at my back.

[ To his credit, Percival actually listens. He finds it easy to grow silent, because even though his physical wounds are completely healed, he is tired in other ways, and even if he found disagreeing with whatever Cain said, he would reserve judgment until he finished. While Cain speaks, he focuses his attention on finishing the last of the bandages, trying to keep his hand steady even while the sight of mature bruises and partially mended skin reminds him of everything all over again.

And yet, he only really has one thing to say in response, now that he has finished covering the wound and pulls back enough to look Cain in the eye again. ]

Why didn’t you tell me this before?

[ Why didn't he? Why doesn't Cain ever tell anyone half the things he keeps hidden? Why did he keep secrets from the captain when they'd first met, why did he try to keep Percival from finding out that it was Takasugi who'd stabbed him — in the end, the reason's all the same.

Why didn't he tell Percival before? It's an all too cutting question, striking deeper than Percival can know.

He meets Percival's gaze squarely, but his fingers flex in Percival's hand, giving away his anxiety, just how much he wants to shift in his seat, how little he wants to answer.

But he does answer. Slowly, quietly, picking his words, but he answers. ]

I thought I could keep you out of it. That it'd be... better. If the only one whose hands were stained were my own.

[ It's a sentiment he can understand only too well, having rarely depended on others himself, but identifying with it makes it no less frustrating.

He wonders, too, why he can't bring himself to pull away from Cain's hand. ]

Had we not understood that we could depend and trust on each other?

[ He doesn't sound angry, though. His voice is quiet, disappointed. ]

[ The disappoint in Percival's voice is almost worse than anger. It hurts more, settles over Cain like a splash of stinging, icy water. He wants to flinch, but he doesn't let himself. After all, it's nothing more than he deserves. ]

I'm... not very good at depending on others. [ He pauses, takes a slow inhale, breathes out his next words in barely more than a whisper. ] I'm not good at losing others.

[ He hopes Percival can understand what he means. Percival's seen the apparition of his brother, seen just how desperate Cain was when he thought there was a chance that Abel might be alive. If anyone could understand just how deep Cain's desire not to lose anyone else runs... It'd be Percival, who knows the losses Cain carries.

If anyone could understand what he means, I'm afraid of losing anyone else if I put them in danger, it's Percival. ]

[ It's true that he knows now, firsthand, that Cain is anything but a stranger to loss. Whether it be loss of a loved one, of a home... Cain kept many things to himself for the benefit of others. So they'd never have to see him in pain, so they wouldn't have to put themselves in danger...

He sighs. He understands, but even now, even after falling prey to death, cannot be at peace with given such treatment.

He looks Cain square in the eye, though his gaze is surprisingly subdued, more vulnerable than steadfast. ]

What will you do then, moving forward? If you cannot depend on me, then I will not place such a burden on you, either.

[ But if he can bring himself to keep Percival out of the dark... then he will do the same. ]

I'll not be dying again, if my word means anything. [ he's learned from his mistakes, or so he'd like to think. ]

[ Cain's quiet for long minutes. The time ticks by, the silence pressing at him, closing around him claustrophobicly. What will he do? He can leave things as they are, keep Percival at arm's length — but that hadn't kept Percival safe. It hadn't done a thing, except hurt them both, had it?

The promise Percival's offering isn't one he can keep. But that's the same whether or not Cain's at his side. Percival won't stay away from danger.

And most of all, he doesn't want to lose Percival.

Slowly, Cain leans forward. Slowly, he reaches up with his free hand and cups Percival's cheek. ]

It's not a burden. To be trusted by you— I want to trust you, also. I'm not good at losing people, but I've already almost lost you, all because I kept you in the dark. Can I trust you? Can I trust that I won't lose you?

[ Percival sits there and doesn't move, a bit dumbfounded by the feel of Cain's hand against his cheek. It's warm, warmer than he remembered it, though perhaps some of that is his own body temperature warming, as well.

He keeps his voice level, regaining some of that familiar confidence. ]

Whether you choose to trust me or not, you won't. [ His lips purse. ]

But, selfishly, I must admit that I wish you would.

Then I will.

[ Softly, but this time, the words are spoken rather than breathed, shaped and firm.

It feels a little like falling, making this decision. Like the ground's disappeared from under him, like he's found himself in the sky, shoved off the edge of an island, in free fall, except he's stepped off himself, made that choice. ]

I'll trust you. I'll depend on you, and I won't lose you. [ He smiles, a wry tinge. Percival's so warm beneath his hand. ] But my hands are probably only going to get more stained.

[ Because he can't stop. He can't just give up his efforts in the Gilded Cage, he can't walk away. He can do what he can to mitigate the things going on there, put a spanner in the works wherever he has the chance, but what he's doing is important. He can't let Cree get any farther with his plans, not if he has the chance to stop them.

He can't keep his hands clean if it'll keep other people safe. ]

[ It's a relief to hear those words. They make him happier than he had anticipated they might. Where Cain might feel like making this decision feels like falling, Percival feels like he's once again found his ground. They have a clearly defined path, and maybe now they will feel like they aren't walking it alone.

He closes his eyes and scoffs a bit, but there's no bite to it. ]

And do you think I am content to sit around and accept things as they are?

[ He pauses, reaching up to gently guide Cain's hand back down. The longer it lingers, the warmer his cheeks grow, and the more difficult it is to think straight.

Cain is very annoying, in more ways than one. ]

No, of course not.

[ But Cain feels even more adrift, with Percival taking his hand. They're holding hands now, not just for the purpose of Percival bandaging him. There's no way to ignore that, not with Percival's fingers wrapped around his palm, with the warmth of Percival's skin lingering.

But still, the contact feels like a lifeline. Like a mooring he's found in the midst of his fall, and slowly, a smile begins to grow. His heart beats a little faster. No, he didn't think Percival would do nothing, would just stand idly by. And yet, what it sounds like Percival's offering... ]

I only mean... Will you try to stop me?

I told you we are being honest with each other, did I not?

[ Now it is Percival's time to feel uncomfortable. He has asked Cain to make himself vulnerable, and can only be expected to do the same, but this is a difficult question to answer. It's difficult, because he and Cain are too alike in that respect. How tiring. He sighs. ]

Then I will be. I cannot promise you that I won't try to stop you from doing something foolish, in the same way I would hope you would try to have me see reason. [ Except his ideas are always good and never dumb... let's ignore that he died. ]

But if you prove too stubborn and stupid, I will not let you go alone.

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i hate you so much

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