|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Thu Feb 09, 2012 5:46 pm
It was cold. Thackery stirred just slightly, hanging wearily between sleep and wake. The slightest of chills snaked from his ears to his toes and, knowing that he was surely not alone in this bed, he reflexively moved closer to the center. They'd probably just moved apart on accident. That was all. He'd been sleeping in Ash's room more and more lately; his boilfriend seemed to want him in his presence at all times, and the Cerberus loved to be spoiled and doted upon, so it was all working out nicely. When he cuddled close, the reaper was almost as warm as his little fireplace in the demon dorms. It was comfortable. Everything was good. Until Ash...wasn't really there. In a figurative sense, usually, but as he yawned and reached for the boil...he really wasn't. This was concerning. Blinking away a sleepy haze, he unwrapped himself from Ash's fancy sheets (that had seemingly been tucked around him again, he noted) and stumbled into the middle of the floor. Where was he? "...Ash?" With his concerned little mewl, he sounded far more like an orphaned little kitten than a fierce Cerberus brother.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 14, 2012 2:40 am
Ash flexed his hands, sharp nails digging into his palms. He'd had another nightmare, and they were getting progressively worse as the days went by. He swallowed a choked sob as Thackery asked for him, taking in a deep and shuddery breath.
The voices had reached a breaking point. He could have pretended they were just in his head for a little while, but then, this morning...
They had covered him in patches. Patches of white flecked his already pale flesh, a patchwork of ...who knows what (They knew, They called it Insanity, They called it home, never leave, never go, don't show, don't EVER TELL, DON'T YOU DARE TELL--) and Ash wheezed, pushing away from the far wall of his room to face his boilfriend.
"Look," he whispered, brokenly, prostrating his arms and shirtless chest to Thackery, his grey-green eyes deadened. "They've mobilized, They have me--" Ash wrapped his thick arms around himself, nails digging into his shoulders as he refused to weep.
The cacophany in his mind was a chorus and a crashing wave, and there was far too much going on in such a small place. "Thackery," he pleaded, getting on his knees in front of his bed, large hands clasping thin arms, his grip too tight. "You mustn't tell. They'd be very, very upset with me."
(DON'T TRUST HIM, HOW DARE YOU ENDANGER US, HOW DARE YOU--)
His breath came in ragged pants, and Ash looked at Thackery--
Well.
More accurately-- he looked through him, eyes unfocused and hazy.
Very clearly, SOMETHING was wrong.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Feb 14, 2012 5:42 am
Thackery had never looked so afraid. Not after the shipwreck. Not even when the hunters had come for them. Nor when the school had been invaded by intruders from Christmastown. All those times had been comparatively easy to handle; all he had to do was convince himself how strong and brave he was, and he made it through. He fought or ran or just survived, relying on instinct and adrenaline to push him through.
But he had no idea how to help Ash. The one person who mattered more than all the rest, and he had nothing.
Eyes glassy with tears stared on unblinking as he tried to comprehend what he meant. They had him? Those white things? He kneeled, fighting to quell a heavy wave of nausea, trying in vain to make himself feel brave again.
Gentle fingers brushed one of the patches and Thackery was worried, so worried that he would just crumble to pieces right under his touch. He held his breath until he was sure that he wouldn't, chewing his lip as his hands moved to take Ash's, pulling his nails away from his shoulders with cautious force.
"Ash." He hadn't even realized he was crying until he spoke, the boil's name barely making it out. "Ash, I...hey, no, hey. You're safe. Here with me. Not anybody else." He was fighting a very obvious battle with himself, worrying over whether or not it was okay to touch him, fretting and moving his hands on and off and back on again.
"I won't tell anyone, hey, you're gonna...you'll be okay." Right? Jackdamnit, he didn't know. "I can keep secrets, you know I can. It can always just be with us. Just us forever. Promise." He still wasn't sure what he was promising, or if it even mattered at this point. He hoped he would, at the very least, recall the importance of a promise from a Cerberus. Reaching for him again, he stroked his cheek with his thumb, staring into eyes that didn't seem to see him.
"A-are you e..." He couldn't even finish. He choked back sobs. Brave, Thackery, be brave.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Feb 15, 2012 9:00 pm
It was a sanguine song, echoing around the corners of his mind. We, us, they. He knew, now. They knew. The jaws of insanity were slipping around his wrists, locking them in place and slithering up his spine and into his brain. He was no longer alone-- and in the worst of ways.
But there was no one to trust. No one but Thackery. Large arms quivered as soft fingers brushed against an exposed patch, terrified because it felt...
It felt like nothing was there.
"Thackery," he whispered, voice half broken, lips turned downwards into a sorrowful frown. He let the cerberus' voice curl around him, wrap him in a soothing gauze to bandage the unstable mess that was his psyche. Ashford was hemorrhaging logic and good sense, left with little behind excepting survival instincts.
Instincts tainted by insanity. "I know," the reaper continued, tugging Thackery closer to him, his breathing ragged. They screamed at him for telling anyone, even if it was his Thackery. In this one respect, he would win. There was no energy left to fight anything else-- but it was Thackery that was important.
It was a mantra.
"Just us," he repeated, nodding, eyes flicking to meet Thackery's, seafoam green to violet.
He took the other's small hands into his own, grip tight and unrelenting. "Promise me," he demanded, hissing. "We require it. We require your word." Like an animal, he leaned into Thackery's touch, eyes widen and unblinking, absolute in their uncertainty--
and.
And wild.
Ashford, never in his life, looked wild.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
