#in the cinematic universe in my head it's like porcia/brutus/cassius. they have an arragement. they make it work.

[cassiusapologist]

a conversational snapshot moment during 44. BC [~500 words, gen, implied Brutus/Cassius]

‘You should be happier,’ says Cassius. ‘Urban praetor, beloved by Caesar, admired by the people, and I find you here instead. Porcia is worried about you.’

‘Aren’t you angry?’ counters Brutus. ‘This is--

‘Of course I’m pissed,’ replies Cassius. ‘I was stuck cleaning up Caesar’s fuck up in Parthia, and he had the audacity to spend months stringing us both along when we all knew that he was going to give the urban praetorship to you.’

Brutus says nothing. Cassius sits next to him in silence.

‘Do you hate me for it?’ Brutus asks in a rush. ‘I didn’t— I didn’t earn this right, I know why Caesar gave it to me, but I took it anyway because I wanted it. I can’t stop thinking about it, even Cicero--’

‘Don’t listen to fucking Cicero,’ says Cassius over the rapid thudding of his own heart. Do you hate me for it, gods, that’s the worst thing Brutus could ever ask him. Do you hate me? Never, he’s never been able to hate Brutus, even when he wanted to. ‘I don’t hate you, have you spent weeks thinking that? Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?’

‘No,’ answers Brutus, and then: ‘Yes. I don’t know. Maybe.’

‘I might have been angry, but not like that.’ When did they go so wrong that the idea of hate could worm its way between them? ‘If I was going to hate anyone, I’d hate Caesar. What were you going to do, turn down the offer? Again? He’s been angling to have you as his successor for years. That’s not your fault.’

Cassius looks down at his hands, at Brutus (who’s gaze has never left some unseen middle distance), and then up at the ceiling.

‘Did you really think I could hate you?’ he asks quietly.

‘I hoped not,’ replies Brutus, equally quiet. ‘It’s different now, though.’

‘Not everything,’ Cassius says. ‘Not us. We fight sometimes, sure, but we’ve always fought. It never…I’m never going to hate you, even when we’re furious with each other. You know that, right?’

For a horrible minute, Brutus says nothing, and then he threads his fingers through Cassius’ own.

‘Porcia has been trying to convince me to talk to you,’ Brutus finally admits.

‘She always was smarter than both of us.’

‘I keep having these dreams,’ continues Brutus, as though Cassius hadn’t said anything. ‘They’re horrible, you’re always in them and--’ he cuts off abruptly.

An awful part of Cassius that craves everything about Brutus wants to ask, to pry, to hear the details of these dreams that he’s in, dreams that are apparently so awful that Brutus can’t force the words out of his mouth.

He doesn’t do that.

Instead he says: ‘Well, you know I don’t believe in things like omens. Instead of keeping your wife awake at night with your thoughts, seek me out instead. I’ll argue with you over the nature of these things until it’s forgotten.’

At that, Brutus finally smiles. It’s small, and barely qualifies, but Cassius will seize victory wherever he can grasp it.

‘Cassius,’ he says, ‘what would I ever do without you?’

‘Fall to pieces,’ Cassius says without hesitation. ‘You don’t sleep enough, you'll stay at your desk unless someone manhandles you into bed.’

Brutus laughs, and it’s almost enough-----

---

some miscellaneous notes, aka sections of text that rattle around inside my brain.

i. Far from being annoyed at Brutus for making his own reconciliation with Cato’s circle, Caesar took great delight in Brutus’ company: he complimented his recruit and he was particularly pleased with the way Brutus had conducted affairs in Cisalpine Gaul. As a reward, Brutus was promised the urban praetorship for the following year, 44 BC – purportedly much to the chagrin of Cassius, who had to make do with the less prestigious peregrine praetorship – and it may have been now that he also earmarked Brutus for one of the two consulships of 41 BC. [Kathryn Tempest, Brutus: the Noble Conspirator]

ii. Itane? nuntiat Brutus illum ad bonos viros? Εὐαγγέλια. Sed ubi eos? nisi forte se suspendit. Hic autem, ut stultum[165] est. Ubi igitur φιλοτέχνημα illud tuum, quod vidi in Parthenone, Ahalam et Brutum? Sed quid faciat? Illud optime: "Sed ne is quidem, qui omnium flagitiorum auctor, bene de nostro." At ego verebar, ne etiam Brutus eum diligeret; ita enim significarat iis litteris, quas ad me: "Ast vellem aliquid degustasses de fabulis." Sed coram, ut scribis. [cicero to atticus] [trans. Is that so? Does Brutus really say Caesar is going over to the right party? That is good news. But where will he find them, unless, perhaps, he hangs himself? But how foolish it is of Brutus! Where, then, does that masterpiece of yours, which I saw in the Parthenon, the tree of Brutus' family from Ahala and Brutus, come in? But what can he do? It is excellent to hear that not even the man who began the whole criminal business has a good word to say for young Quintus. Indeed, I was beginning to be afraid that even Brutus was fond of him; for in his letter to me he said, "But I wish you could have had a taste of his tales." But when we meet, as you say.]

iii. her heard a voice nor seen anything. Brutus stayed awake for the rest of the night, but as soon as it was morning he visited Cassius and described what he had seen. Cassius, who was a follower of the doctrines of Epicurus, and who used frequently to dispute with Brutus on subjects of this kind, said to him; ‘Our opinion, Brutus, is that by no means everything that we see or experience is real or true. In the first place, the perceptions that come to us through the senses are deceptive and unstable, and, secondly, our intelligence is quick to transform the experience itself, which may be quite illusory, into a whole variety of forms[...]' [plutarch, life of brutus]