godsays | 5th Metal / open video

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5th Metal / open video

[ The video turns on Zane, who is somewhat disheveled, but, to the discerning eye, different than usual. Something too intent and high-strung has been muted, and there is a dangerous hint in his eyes. ]

Cassel is... hurt.

Someone needs to collect him.

Level 4, Cabin 12.

[ And video off. ]

[ ACTION SPAM (edited to add) ]

[ And now Zane is in zero.

He sits alone, arms crossed over his chest, his face hard and blank.

Come and visit! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Cassel in that moment looks so pathetic and miserable that it's next to impossible for Chris to maintain his anger. His shoulders slump in exasperation and he walks over to the side of the bed to drop down on it, annoyed but much better than he was a few seconds ago]

Then don't fucking..volunteer to get laid out, dumbass.

No more.

[He doesn't like this promise, but he's making it anyway, because Chris is upset. Making Chris upset is kind of the worst thing ever.]

[The bed gives a little when he sits down, and Cassel looks him dead in the eye.]

You like me. Like - you came right here when I asked you to. It's fucking confusing, and I know you think that's stupid, but I'm telling you it is. I just - maybe it doesn't - [He can't talk, he's out of words, why now?] It did help, for a minute, but you're right, it wasn't worth it.

[Don't leave.]

Edited 2013-04-27 17:00 (UTC)

[Chris freezes at You like me, but Cassel is already continuing and he has to remember how to breathe in the next few seconds. His heart pounding, he glances down to his hands, paranoid and a little frightened over the depths of his own feelings]

Just....just don't do it anymore, and we're cool.

Okay? Don't fucking...get involved with whatever shit this Zane asshole is into. He's twisted.

[He smiles, a little sadly.]

So am I.

[Part of him hopes it's taken as a joke; it could be, easily. But it's not. There's a lot that's wrong with him, and half of it he's not even aware of.]

[He scoots over, wincing, and pats the space next to him.]

C'mere.

[Glancing to the space beside Cassel, Chris shuts his eyes and shifts position too, so that he can drop down and lie beside him on the bed. His hands fold over his chest and he scowls at the ceiling, full of all his pent-up aggression and unwilling or unable to let it loose on anyone]

Christ, you suck.

I know.

[He half-turns, looking at Chris not looking at him.]

I'd ask why you put up with me, but I think you'd just get more pissed.

Oh, shut up, asshole.

[He nudges Cassel in his side in order to claim more room and space on the bed before he falls off; twin-sized mattresses really weren't meant for two teenagers to lay side by side]

Merlin fixed me pretty well last week. Maybe he'll show up and do you, too.

Maybe.

[He scoots again, but not that far. For once he feels okay about being close to somebody, safe.]

I don't think I'm going to be able to do any more self-defense for a while if he doesn't. [It's really hard to decide whether to laugh or - well, not cry, because he doesn't cry, but something. He settles for burying his face in the stupid pillow. World-class fuckup Cassel Sharpe.]

[With a grunt of acquiescence, Chris rolls over on his own side to face Cassel. He doesn't reach out to touch him - he ran out without his gloves and instead tucks his bare hands under his arms - but instead drops his forehead against Cassel's hair, breathing in]

He will. He fixed my arm, I'm back to working out as of two days ago.

Christ, come on. It's not that bad.

[Oh.]

[He closes his eyes and turns his head from the pillow so he can breathe, though he does his best not to dislodge Chris. It's okay. He's okay. Probably, maybe.]

Are you still gonna show me? [Or is he going to give up? But then Cassel grunts. Bad question.] You are. Right? If I don't do that again. Or - ?

[He's initially surprised when Cassel doesn't immediately shake him off, and a part of Chris is setting off warning bells that he's too close, he's playing with fire here, he needs to back off before he does something to ruin everything..

Fuck. Whatever Cassel uses for shampoo smells really goddamn good. It's unfair.]

For fuck's sake, Cassel, I'm not giving you friendship ultimatums. Yeah, I'll be pissed if you go out and tangle with fucking Zane again but I'm not like, going to hold training hostage. That's bullshit.

Edited 2013-04-27 20:13 (UTC)

[It's even simpler than he expected. Chris has no conditions at all. He'll help. He'll be there. He's not leaving.]

[Eventually Cassel will get this for good. Today, he believes it. And he's well-aware that Chris is too good to be his friend.]

He reminds me of me, a little.

Do you ever feel different kinds of important to different people?

[Chris has apparently decided he's spent enough time being creepy and gross, and leans his head back away from Cassel's, as much as it pains him to do so. He drops his head instead against his shoulder, frowning]

I guess. I mean, how I behave around you is different than how I act around Rorschach, or my mom, or someone. You're different roles depending on who you're with.

[Cassel blinks at Chris when he moves away, settles when he puts his head down.]

Yeah. It's just weird? That, just now, was more -

[He presses his lips together.] I don't know. Different. The opposite of this.

[God, he sucks at words.]

God, you suck at words.

So...what, you just...wanted to get hit by him? I don't get it. I'm not...trying to judge, I'm just trying to figure out if letting other guys beat on you is a thing you like to do.

[That earns Chris a look of - not suspicion, but surprise, definitely. He's seen Chris talk on the network about shit like this, thought he was being an asshole, didn't step in to stop him because it wasn't his business. If Chris is talking about what it sounds like he's talking about - well, it's an about-face, definitely.]

No. No, not like that. It was more like - punishment, like I did something bad.

Yeah, now you've just fucking lost me.

[He shuts his eyes, so wound up and full of feelings that he can't stand to look at Cassel anymore. Not that the other had done anything; him just being in such close proximity is making Chris' heart skip]

Stop punishing yourself.

[Cassel's not surprised, not even a little. It'd be hard to explain even if he was the most articulate person alive, which he's clearly not.]

Like I said. Being with you is the opposite.

. . . You're still upset. [He sees you there, Chris.] Can I - I don't know, help?

Well, you don't fucking deserve to be in the fucking infirmary. It just pisses me off.

{And now it's Chris' turn to bury his head into the pillow with a muffled grunt]

M'fine.

[Yeah, no. He sits up too quickly, winces at the pain in his ribs.]

Chris. I won't do it anymore, okay? Let me help.

[His head tilts to look up at Cassel, frowning]

Fine. Okay, you won't do it anymore, awesome. That helps. I'm good, all right?

All right.

[He watches Chris for a minute before lowering himself onto his elbows, then his back.]

But you'd say if I could help.

[The need to be helpful, useful, that hasn't gone anywhere. Right now he feels like there's something he's missing, too, and he doesn't like not having all necessary information.]

[For some unknown reason, it's impossible for Chris to tear his eyes away from Cassel in that moment. He lies on his side on the bed, watching the boy next to him through his one visible eye, silent and aching and in agony over his own hidden secrets. It's a Barge joke that Chris is a loudmouth who wouldn't know subtlety if it hit him like a brick, but his most painful, private thoughts that stand out all the more prominently when he's this close to their root, these he'll take to his grave. Some days - and this is looking to be like one of them - he wants to cry or scream in frustration and self-hatred because how can a feeling he hates this much feel so wonderful at the same time?

Ignoring the racing, burning pace of his own heartbeat, Chris mumbles something indistinguishable and sets his chin back up against Cassel's shoulder in an effort to make more room on the bed. This close, it's easy to whisper his rebuttal without anyone overhearing;]

You want to help?

Go make me a sandwich.

Edited 2013-04-28 03:19 (UTC)

[His shoulder inches up just for a second when Chris whispers, and he laughs under his breath, his first laugh since all of this started.]

You'd have to sneak me out of here first. [His voice is just as low, conspiratorial, as he flicks Chris on the cheek with a gloved finger.] Then I'll make your damn sandwich.

Yeah, that wouldn't be hard; there's no guards here. Just nosy wardens.

[Chris smirks at the touch, kneeing Cassel gently in his leg in response]

Good. You owe me.

...Peanut butter with the crusts cut off.

5th Metal / open video

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