#[ Fleur went and got drunk but Someone has to drive home and thankfully Ian is in the backseat ]

[cosmosfated]

To Speak Among Silence

   Another stoplight turned red.  Blasted things, he swears they last longer every time he wants to get home quicker.  His eyes flicker up towards the rear view mirror; his housemate and psuedo brother is passed out in the backseat, having drank too much while they were at Lux.  He also did drink, yes, but when alcohol works on him these days… the effects don’t affect his motor skills.  Not visibly at least.  Something else would prefer if he didn’t slack in the physical department.  In really tough situations he won’t be as good as he normally would be, but alcohol does the one thing it always does when taken in enough.

   It makes even the best of liars spill their truths    like madmen threatened with a silver coffin.

   Shame that his truths aren’t so easily obtained.  His only show when the world is no longer listening, or to those that know of his madness and deception and call the truth another set of bizarre lies.  So nothing he says holds any sway.  So nothing he says will grant him any mercy, any respite.  He takes a breath and sighs softly, set grip on the steering wheel loosening a bit as he stares out the window again.

   The light is still red.

   “bloody thing is jus’ taunting me now. i ought to run it.”

   He doesn’t move.

   No, instead, he leans back into his seat and stares ahead of him.  Waiting.  Listening.  Waiting more.  Fingers drumming a simple beat against the wheel, waiting for a paused beat to continue playing.  The silence hurts him. It rings much like a dirge.

   Fleur stops the drumming, and chuckles wearily.  He always finds the right opportunity to get everything said to ears that aren’t listening.  Words cursed to fall upon deaf ears.

   “why are we doing this song and dance, ian?”  His voice is soft, too soft.  It’s the voice of someone who knows he’s dying and yet is taking little to no measures to prevent it.  Acceptance to a fate, RESIGNATION.  “why are you going through so much for me? is it because of regina? because of emrys? is it a moral obligation because i’m a child?”  He pauses, claws digging into the wheel.  “why did any of you have to get involved? why did you have to make me care again? everything would have gone so much smoother if i had never met any of you!”

   He winces as the pain from his wounds being aggravated causes them to bleed again, forcing him to loosen his grip.  The weariness sets in again as his shoulders slouch and his posture resembles not a world tested soldier who has seen hell and called it a mercy but rather a too young Atlas who has only ever wished for the world to fly and not fall.  “… it’s going to hurt. you know that don’t you? all your baubles and gadgets and toys- they won’t save you. if you get too involved with me, they’ll try to get rid of you, and if they can’t do that, then they’ll take all remnants of me from you and your mind. i know that you have that, but… i don’t know if it’ll be enough. i don’t know if it’ll be enough to remember everything, or even anything at all. that’s all i’m here for. seeing my creation out to its happy ever after and then… and… then…”

   He takes a breath almost too deep, a single cough tearing through him deep enough to cut and render him shaky.  Not that.  He can’t say that.  Nothing would change from it anyway.  So instead he takes his hands off the wheel and takes off his clover bottle necklace, gingerly holding it with a piece of rainbow cloth that has seen finer days but remains ever bright.  “i never told you, did i? about my timeline’s frisk? i guess it hurts too much to talk about them when someone is listening. even after years, it still hurts. …they were murdered, ian.”  The words still make his voice crack and his shoulders shake with heartache.  “right in front of me. i was powerless to do anything. half a soul, chained and choked by vines unseen, trying to wrestle back some control from my keeper. dying fast even without the bullets in my back and chest speeding up the process. they were murdered right in front of me and i did nothing but sit there and watch as they destroyed the one thing that would bring them back to me. watched helplessly as the only person who had ever truly believed in me until i met whisper… died in my arms. for all my power, for all my “strength”, i did nothing. i could do nothing. helpless, frozen, WEAK.”

   His claws curl delicately, with no shortage of pain, around the two items.  So precious, so necessary to keep him both anchored to what he built and reminded of what he fights for.  “…i won’t let anybody die for me. i won’t let anybody take the hit for me. i won’t let anybody make the tough calls for me. not again. never again. if i can’t keep my family safe, if i’m not strong enough to help protect my family, then i don’t deserve to have them. and just this once- just… just ONCE-”

   He feels the tears streak down his face even as he puts the necklace back on, cloth tucked away into his Inventory again.  “i want to be the one that saves them. because even the saviors need saving sometimes. i… i want to get stronger, ian. i need to get stronger. i NEED to. not just for me. for my family, my love, my people. i need to be strong enough to protect those who need me, strong enough to fight against what threatens those i love. i need to be strong enough to save at least one of my families..!”  His head rests against the top of the wheel, fingers now gripping tight to it without caring that he’s bleeding through the bandages now.  The pain is quite real but his anguish and determination is stronger.  “i couldn’t save anyone before because i was too weak. i’m tired of being the one who needs saving! i’m not a damsel in distress! i’m not a clumsy child! but… nobody cares about that. nobody hears the truth. even if they do, the lie sounds more real because fact is stranger than fiction. always is. so i’m forever a lying fool before the court of blinded judges. stupid. selfish. deceitful. heinous.”

   A weak laugh tumbles through his chest, shuddering and glitched as he looks up at the light, wiping away tears with the back of his hands.  “so many nightmares. or are they truths i don’t want to face? it’s not just him that’s running low. you’ve noticed haven’t you? they’re upset with you. to some extent i am too. i wish you wouldn’t interfere as you are. …really, at this point, i would take a couple of days with my family and call that my happily ever after. i would take that. i would go peacefully down with that. no fight. no ruckus. just give me my family for just a couple days. happy and laughing and home. sharing stories. sharing mistakes. good food, bad jokes, worse laughs. seeing my parents smile again. that wouldn’t be so bad. that sounds perfect. …i would take that. if that was my offer, i wouldn’t think twice. i would go without resistance, without a fight. a weapon back within the clutches of the one it ran from. that would be enough for me to return. just a dose of joy. just… just a bit.”

   He looks back at Ian, still passed out and still not hearing him.  His smile is as soft and tired as his voice.  “and here i am again. speaking to deafened ears and expecting a response from someone with a muted tongue.”  His look turns sad and he reaches back with one hand to gently pat his head, ruffling the downed Warlock’s hair.  He doesn’t take his hand away immediately, twitching and trembling fingers speaking volumes of his pain that he keeps hidden from the rest of the world without added injury.  The pause is telling of words that are best spoken by his touch, as gentle as the breeze on a perfect summer day to bring relief while remaining as cool as fall to remind of his truths.  Two sides of a coin.  Two halves to a whole.  Can’t have one without the other.  The words he said being one of many reasons why he doesn’t slow down, why he keeps going, why people insist on calling him BRAVE while those he loves calls him RECKLESS.

   He pulls his hand back and settles on the wheel again, chest feeling much lighter and much heavier all at once.  “…thank you for reminding me that it’s okay to be angry, to be scared. thank you for showing me how to truly be myself again. i can only hope i’m doing as much for you as you’re doing for me.”

   The light clicks green.

   “ah. right. …time to go home, then.”