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 Posted: Tue Jun 14, 2016 10:13 pm
The past twelve or so hours had been… quite an adventure for both Michael and Caspian. They had gone through a thunderstorm, an argument, and sort of made up, all while inadvertently staying (and sleeping) in what Michael was still convinced was the local drug addict’s hangout spot. Thankfully there hadn’t been too many hazards, and they managed to make it out alive.
But that left them both trudging around in sweatpants and plain shirt, long sleeved for Caspian, tired and achy and sore from not sleeping very well on a wood and metal floor, and also hungry and, in Michael’s case, desperately needing coffee. It probably wasn’t good to be more or less addicted to caffeine, but he always said there were worse things. Besides, his brother was addicted to the stuff as well.
Not too far past the train station (because Michael didn’t like leaving his car or motorcycle anywhere near where he was planning on powering up), was a run down diner that was thankfully open at seven in the morning.
He knew they didn’t look in the best shape, both now with sweatpants and shoes soaked from making their way through weeds and underbrush, but business was business. In fact, he didn’t even ask Caspian if the place was okay for him, because at this point any coffee was good coffee.
Once he had a cup in his hands and a plate of toast on the way, Michael took the time to stare (or frown) at Caspian, trying to figure out his expressions and whatever emotions flickered in his eyes.
“I don’t understand you,” he finally concluded, lifting the cup of black coffee to his mouth to sip.
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 12:21 pm
He'd sent a text to Cassie to let her know everything was all right - though Caspian going out at all hours of the day wasn't exactly out of the ordinary for him. It was better to cover all bases, after all, and he didn't want her trying to find him when there was nothing wrong.
For the most part.
He felt grimy and dirty after the night in the boxcar, and a little sore from sleeping on a (mostly) hard surface. But in spite of this fact, there was, at least, some good to possibly have come out of it; Caspian was not, after all, going to easily forget all that had happened in such a short amount of time.
He made no comment as Michael led them to the diner, too hungry to even make any sarcastic comments. Unlike the man sitting across from him, Caspian dumped a liberal amount of cream and sugar into his coffee, breathing the scent in deeply, a pleased sound escaping.
He glanced at Michael from over the top of his cup, Caspian raising his eyebrows.
"What exactly don't you understand?" he asked, a mixture of wariness and amusement in his voice, which stayed light in spite of everything.
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 3:20 pm
Michael’s eyes narrowed slightly at the amusement he could hear in Caspian’s voice, although he held himself back from saying anything that could be taken as mean, having heard the wariness there, too. He could only imagine that Caspian felt the need to step on eggshells around him, especially after last night and that morning. Despite his desire to look and sound like his life was put together, Caspian had obviously seen a crack in that well maintained structure Michael tried desperately to keep around him.
“I don’t understand why you’re still around.”
He knew the words could have been taken as a dismissal, but instead his voice had traces of confusion and concern. Almost as if he was expecting what he said would make Caspian realize his mistake in actually being around, and leave. For someone who was supposed to be a mentor, Michael wasn’t exactly… well… Caspian could have a mentor who was more stable than he was.
It was probably more obvious than ever that the confident fasade around him was just that. No matter what Caspian said, Michael could not bring himself to believe that all this effort Caspian was putting into being around him was worth it.
“You don’t want me to leave. You don’t want me to push you away. But I’m…” he started, only to shut his mouth, suddenly not knowing what he was going to say. Or maybe he did, and realized that he probably shouldn’t, or didn’t want to admit what his thoughts were.
Scowling, Michael lowered his gaze to the… rather bad cup of coffee, still torn between arguing with Caspian on the matter and just… accepting that Caspian wasn’t going anywhere.
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 7:18 pm
Caspian wrapped both hands around the mug and inhaled another deep breath, letting the scent of strong coffee ease him into a state of relaxation. It wasn't so much that he felt awkward about asking questions - but he was still not quite sure whether or not Michael still intended to walk away and have him find a different mentor.
His eyebrows rose, the lower half of Caspian's face half hidden by his cup. Slowly, he lowered it, a thumb running absently up and down the ceramic, watching Michael with a studious expression from across the table. The confusion in his voice was something vulnerable that made the fluttering in his stomach come back.
"But you're...what?" asked Caspian, looking steadily at him. "You're 'not worth it?' You're 'not a nice person?' You could tell me that a thousand times and I still wouldn't believe it, not after everything you've done for me. And truly shitty people usually don't try and tell people that they're shitty."
He reached for another sugar packet, wondering if maybe it would help the terrible taste of coffee, Caspian ripping the top and pouring it in while he stirred slowly.
"...I dunno," he said finally, after a moment's silence. "I wish I could say there was a concrete reason. At first I just stuck around because I thought it would be fun to needle you or try and get you to smile, since you're always scowling all the time."
Caspian gave a little shrug. "But...I guess it's more than that, or something. I want to get you to smile just because I think you forgot how to. And because something about you makes me feel good, or at least...not a kid," he added, with a slightly self-conscious glance up at Michael. "I can talk to you and you don't make fun of me or dismiss me."
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 7:38 pm
If only because he now knew that Caspian wanted to get him to be less scowly, he scowled some more, his eyes lifting to peg Caspian with an unamused look, although it was halfhearted at best.
He also scowled over the fact that it did seem as though he was going to make claims about himself. But I’m was clearly enough to set up for him to say exactly what Caspian assumed, especially since he had said those things about himself before. That was probably better than what he was going to say. Caspian didn’t need to know.
Although, the fact that Caspian apparently liked that he could talk to him had him drawing in a deep breath to release through his nose, irritated with himself and his own hesitations. It was something Caspian said before, when he’d asked him to be his mentor. How he liked that he didn’t sugar coat things.
That was what he was doing now, though… wasn’t it?
For a few moments, Michael’s eyes were back on the cup of coffee in his hands, and then they lifted to Caspian’s face, his expression still confused and concerned, but that was overshadowed by determination.
“But I’m afraid something will happen to you. That I’ll get too close and you’ll get hurt or die because of it,” he finally said, his hand gripping just a little tighter around the mug than probably necessary. He didn’t exactly have the best track record. People he cared about always seemed to end up hurt or worse.
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 8:16 pm
He knew the sort of look that Michael was giving him and pushed it aside; far be it for it not to matter, it simply wasn't as effective as Michael thought it was. Caspian was still going to persevere, regardless of it all and regardless of the constant scowls.
His chest, however, tightened a little as Michael spoke, and it felt...honest, in a way; as though he was sharing a part of himself that he normally wouldn't have. Michael was trying to be truthful and open with him, which was something that made Caspian's stomach flutter with an emotion he couldn't quite distinguish.
He opened his mouth, and then shut it again, lips pressed together. Michael's blue eyes were focused on him, and the expression on his face was one that Caspian had not quite seen before.
"I can't promise that I won't get hurt," he said, after a moment. "That's too much, even for me. I don't know how things will go, but I sure as hell ain't dying anytime soon, that's for damn certain, not if I can help it." His fingers tightened around the mug of coffee briefly, then loosened again as he looked at Michael.
"But still," he said, "I'd rather you be there when I do get hurt instead of being alone. I'd much prefer if nothing happened to you, either but..." He gave a small shrug. "I can't stop bad things from happening, bad s**t just happens no matter what."
Caspian's eyes flickered a little.
"Isn't it better to go through that s**t with someone else, instead of trying to handle it all by yourself?"
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 8:37 pm
Michael understood what Caspian was saying, sure. He understood the thought process he had, about how it was better together than alone. He understood the idealism Caspian still had within him; young and bright and thankfully had not reached a point where everything shifted to dark.
Yes, at one point in time, he would agree with everything Caspian said. That it was better to go through hell and back by someone’s side. At least until you were the only one left standing, knowing that it was your fault for everything that happened. The guilt was enough to cripple, and it was only the chance to maybe save others was salvation enough.
“No, it’s not,” he mumbled, more to himself than to Caspian. His eyes shifted away and focused on something else in the diner, although he wasn’t aware enough to process whatever it was. It wasn’t better to go through that with someone else. It was bad enough that he might end up with someone else he knew dying. Peter, or Chris, who seemed much more likely at this point. It was easier to protect himself by being involved as little as possible with anyone else.
While he didn’t want to get stuck in that same situation again, he knew he already was. The only saving grace he would have is if Caspian walked away on his own. There was a reason why Michael failed at pushing him completely away…
“I know it can’t be helped,” he said through gritted teeth, his right hand lifting to sink into his short hair, compulsively brushing it back a few times, although he couldn’t bring himself to look at Caspian again just yet. “I know no one can stop bad things from happening. I just… I don’t…” he faltered, shaking his head as he clearly became flustered the more he was being drawn into the conversation.
“I told you what saved me last time,” he said, the desperation leaking into his voice. Caspian knew it was becoming a knight that brought him out of that dark place he’d been in. “If it happens again… there’s nothing left to help pull myself out…”
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 8:49 pm
Not for the first time, he wondered what sort of things Michael had gone through that had made everything so painful for him; made everything difficult to accept or grasp or hold onto. Caspian knew a fraction of it, but it could not be the whole story, he knew that.
This was a side of Michael he had not seen before. Open and vulnerable and pained, desperation in his voice, his eyes focused somewhere other than Caspian. Around them, the diner smelled of breakfast foods - pancakes and eggs and bacon and coffee - but Caspian couldn't bring himself to focus on any of that.
"There's me," he said. "And you can tell me about all the reasons why that won't work and I can only give you one why it's better than nothing at all, and that is just...that I care."
Caspian took a deep breath, lashes fluttering as he regarded the man across from him. How strange it was to be sitting here with him, after the roller coaster of a relationship that had stemmed from a coincidental, random meeting.
"I know I can't fix everything. I can't take away those feelings so easily, and I can't make everything magically perfect. But I can at least bear some of the weight for you. I haven't been around as long as you have, I don't...know everything that you've gone through," said Caspian quietly. "But you can't start anything based off of the assumption that things will always go to hell and there's nothing to be done to change that, because that's not living, Michael, that's just existing."
He shrugged again, a simple, slightly self-conscious gesture.
"I want you to feel like you're living."
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 9:07 pm
Michael knew what it must take for someone like Caspian to say things like that. To offer himself as help for Michael to get out, to keep moving, to go on living. The gesture was nice, and once that made Michael’s chest restrict in a strange way he hadn’t felt in a long time. Caspian, who was lonely and didn’t seem to have many close friends despite his open and welcoming personality.
But none of that mattered. Even if Caspian offered to help him, to want him to feel like he was living, it didn’t matter.
“It won’t work if you’re dead.”
The words were quiet, as if they were difficult for him to say through a restricted throat. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Caspian, his eyes instead were focused on the half drunk mug of coffee in front of him. None of what Caspian offered would matter if Michael’s fears came true and he was killed. It was only by chance that he made his way back to Destiny City and discovered his powers as a knight. This time there would be nothing.
And then he knew he would not be able to escape.
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 9:28 pm
He felt the words like ice seeping into his skin; like a frigid air had found its way into his lungs and nested there, so that every breath was painful. Caspian stared at Michael from across the table, and he was all too aware of the rapid pulse that beat in his wrist, of the world moving around them but staying still at this little table.
A part of him wanted to get up and walk away. To prove to Michael that if he kept pushing, it would break, and there would be no more chances after all - that he would get exactly what he kept saying he would get, and that would be nothing at all.
But he couldn't do that. Not now, not after...
When he spoke, his voice was tightly knotted, matching the sensation of ice that had built up in his chest.
"So that's just it, then?" said Caspian. "We're just stuck here, with you refusing to let me in because you'll afraid something might happen?"
It wasn't that Michael's fears were insignificant or invalid. Caspian knew perfectly well just what it cost for him to even admit it in the first place - and he knew he'd already pushed the boundaries with his prior injuries, with getting his starseed almost ripped.
And yet, at the same time - at the same time -
"Michael," said Caspian, still in that same tight voice, "You can't base a friendship - or any relationship, for that matter - on the assumption that the worst is going to happen. Sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith and let yourself move forward, even if it's hard."
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 9:42 pm
It hurt to hear the strange tightness of Caspian’s voice, obviously doing his best to offer something, only for Michael to refuse to accept it. His own heart was pounding in his chest, as if it was trying to burst through, seeped with fear and regret and guilt. He knew Caspian was right. He knew the fear of him dying was something that could very well be irrelevant because maybe he wouldn’t die. Maybe everything would be fine. The Negaverse would surrender or just disappear all together, and everyone would continue on with their lives in peace.
Michael flinched at the sound of his name, the painful emotions in Caspian’s voice overwhelming him. Maybe he would leave. Just wash his hands of Michael and his irrational fears. Fears that stemmed from experience, but Caspian, while he might assume it was something like that, didn’t know the details. And Michael wasn’t about to give those to him. He’d already said too much as it was.
He sat there in silence as Caspian tried to convince him, to ease him out of his fears, to offer reassurance and even companionship. There wasn’t anything he could think to say, to offer as further explanation. Caspian had already laid his heart out on that table, and Michael kept stepping around it, not wanting to accept it. Because if he did, if something happened, if that leap of faith failed…
“I’m afraid…” he admitted softly, wishing he didn’t sound as pathetic and useless as he probably did. And this was why he didn’t think he would be a good mentor. This is why he didn’t think he was that great of a person or nice or whatever Caspian was convinced he was exaggerating. Because he was a coward, wrapped up in his own mind, afraid of letting go when he’d come so close to going over the edge before.
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 9:52 pm
Something in Caspian's face shifted, softened. The ice was still there, in his chest, but it was beginning to melt, so that breathing felt less painful and more normal once more. Maybe it was the fact that, once again, he was seeing a side of Michael that was normally so carefully hidden behind all of his stiff, closed off facades.
Underneath it all...well, that was a different story altogether.
This was a man who did not know how to take that step; how to snap out of that mindset that had trapped him for so long that it had become second nature to him. How long had he spent drowning in his own self-doubt and fears and frustrations.
Too long, thought Caspian. Too damn long.
His hand slid across the table, and fingers curled loosely around Michael's wrist, Caspian's thumb pressing against the inside of it - a gesture reminiscent of what he'd done the night before, when he'd tried to get him to let go the first time.
"What's that saying?" he said quietly. " 'A life lived in fear is a life half-lived?' Being afraid isn't something to be ashamed of - hell, I'm afraid of those damned agents." Enough that he still had nightmares about them. "But I'm asking you, Michael, to trust me."
His grip on Michael's wrist tightened ever so slightly before Caspian released it again, taking a breath.
"One step. That's all I'm asking. Just one step."
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 10:14 pm
There were times when Michael felt old. He knew he’d lived a full life already. He’d finished college, fought for his country, and now he was a knight, a teacher, and maybe even a mentor. All of his experiences had aged him faster than a normal person might age. He had so many different experiences in such a short amount of time that he felt much older than he really was.
And then there were times where he felt way too young. He was only thirty, and despite what he often said, he knew that wasn’t old at all. That was still quite young by today’s standards. And just as one would expect with someone who was young, he was confused and lost and, as Caspian guessed, incredibly lonely. He’d shut people out for so long that when people did try to offer him more than just a friendly smile, his immediate reaction was to shut them out.
But Caspian kept trying, despite everything, despite his every effort to push him away. He knew he could be absolutely horrible to him and more or less make him back away, but he couldn’t do that to someone like Caspian who was still bright eyed and cheerful.
Michael lifted his eyes when Caspian took hold of his wrist, and unlike the night before, he didn’t pull it away. Not yet at least. Instead, he looked at Caspian for a few moments, and then closed his eyes. His mind was spinning, trying to tell him so many different things at once.
This was a bad idea.
Maybe he should give it a chance.
He would regret it.
Trust your instincts.
Wasn’t that what he’d told Caspian? Or Remus, rather. To trust his instincts because they were all born with them for a reason. But Michael’s instincts had been trained to immediately pull away when these kinds of situations arose. His instinct was to protect himself, to prevent repeating history.
But he also knew Caspian was right.
Michael didn’t say anything, but kept his eyes closed. He twisted his hand, shifting it away from Caspian’s grip just enough so he could turn his hand over, Michael’s palm against the inside of his wrist just as Caspian’s hand was made to do the same with the motion.
He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything, but he gripped onto Caspian’s wrist. Lightly at first, and then a bit tighter as he squeezed his eyes shut, his face twisting with a grimace as if he was at odds with himself. And he was. He reacted one way, despite his head saying what it had been saying all along.
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Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 10:38 pm
It felt as though they were standing on the edge of a precipice, and the only way off was to jump - and here Caspian was, offering to jump with him, and time was running out, and yet they were still stuck there, teetering precariously on the edge of either something meaningful or something terrible.
It was only a matter of which it would be.
The silence was like a knife. It felt tense, and the diner around them could have been crumbling at their feet and Caspian still would have taken no notice of it. All of his attention was focused on Michael, whose expression had changed from confused and wary to frustrated and afraid to consternation and pain, though it was a myriad of all of these now.
One step, Caspian thought. That's all I'm asking, come on.
He'd started to pull his hand away - but Michael had shifted before he could, and he felt, startlingly, the press of warm fingers along the inside of his own wrist. A gesture mimicking his own, that made Caspian's breath catch in his throat - and it was like the morning, just a short time ago, when words had not been necessary and communication had been something tender and fragile and unspoken between them.
Caspian's fingers curled around Michael's wrist in a grip that was just as tight as Michael's, and he was relatively certain that Michael would be able to feel the rapid pulse that beat just beneath the skin.
You can do it, he thought again. Just take that step. You need me.
And I need you.
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Posted: Thu Jun 16, 2016 10:20 am
The decision to take a chance should not have been as difficult as it was, Michael knew. He was fairly certain anyone else would not have had as difficult of a time to go ahead and allow themselves to trust someone. It didn't even have to do with the fact that Caspian was new to all this; he did not have a lot of experience, but no one really knew what they were doing. He was young and stubborn and somewhat unpredictable with his teasing and sarcastic nature, but he was also kind and had an extraordinary level of patience when it came to Michael and his issues. He knew that there were times he'd pushed Caspian close to his limit, but it was quick to dissipate. So far.
Michael kept his eyes closed, his face creased with indecision and worry and even some fear, holding tightly to Caspian's wrist as if it was his lifeline. With the war, the possibility of Caspian dying was high. The possibility of Michael falling back into the dark state he'd been in before was almost guaranteed if Caspian, or any of the other few people he was close to died.
But... Caspian always seemed sincere in wanting to be there. He said he cared, that he wanted to help, that he wanted Michael to feel like he was living and not just going through the motions. It has been so long since he'd blindly put his trust in someone other than himself, and that was what Caspian was basically asking him to do.
"s**t," he hissed, his free hand lifting to rub at his face and then rake his fingers compulsively through his hair. "s**t, s**t, s**t..." At least the cursing was under his breath, so that wasn't drawing any attention to them, but the fact that he was clearly distressed and now lowering his head close to the table as if to try and curl up on himself might have gotten him and Caspian a couple of strange looks.
It should not have been as hard as it was to decide whether to trust Caspian or not. Didn't he already trust him with things that he hasn't really told anyone else? Maybe Peter or Marissa, but no one else knew about how he'd been in a bad place before being a knight. And he trusted Caspian with his identity, apparently, because Peter had a big mouth and was just like Chris when it came to protecting himself in that they both didn't.
Finally, his grip loosened slightly on Caspian's wrist, and he drew in a deep, settling breath as he straightened a bit in his seat, lifting his head, eyes opening once more. He searched Caspian's face, not entirely sure what he was expecting to see, but wanting desperately to catch a glimpse of that reassurance Caspian was trying to offer him. Everything could go horribly wrong for all Michael knew, but...
"Okay," he said softly, barely audible as his own expression softening to something almost remorseful, especially after everything he'd put Caspian through up to that point. "Okay," he said again as he released a breath he didn't know he was holding. He felt like a child then, regressing back to realizing how much he needed someone to offer him companionship and understanding, even if they didn't really know everything about him.
"I'll trust you," he said, looking defeated and probably pathetic. He was completely out of his element now, and it scared him. He didn't like being scared. He wasn't used to being scared. But here he was, promising to trust Caspian, ten years his junior, with his life and wellbeing.
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