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 Posted: Sun Jul 01, 2018 5:59 pm
He felt alone.
It had been months since he'd finally returned to Destiny City. Months since he'd run into Aegir and been reminded that he was no longer trusted or welcome in a place he'd once called home, though Auguste couldn't blame him for that, only himself. He'd been set up in this hotel and it was where he had been ever since, living off of the trust fund he had been allowed access to after he'd turned twenty-one.
It was lonely. It was achingly, painfully lonely.
He was out now, Pasha on her leash beside him as Auguste wandered the streets of Destiny City. He had gone patrolling as Thrymr every night, because somehow, being Thrymr made him feel better about himself, and because somehow, that part of him felt more alive than he did at the moment. He was safer as Thrymr, more secure in himself than he was as Auguste, perhaps because he didn't know how to be Auguste Atwell anymore.
The park was a frequent place for him to visit now, quiet and secluded on the days when it wasn't too hot outside. Auguste had wandered into one of the more sheltered back areas of the park, a small enclosure that was a series of trees that ran around a little pond meant for ducks and koi fish. Pasha, as well trained as she was, remained at his side, rather than chasing the ducks, and Auguste was grateful.
It was evening; he wondered distantly if he should try and go out again, but somehow, his heart wasn't in it.
The loneliness ached.
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Posted: Sun Jul 01, 2018 10:15 pm
The park: a mixed bag of memories if there ever was one. Some places were terrifying. This was where he’d almost lost his life. This was where he’d nearly lost his soul. This was where he nearly lost everyone and everything he’d loved. Some places held memories so tender and dear that he could stand there, shut his eyes, and they lay there so vivid beneath the surface, like a pulse he could never quite find but KNEW lingered there. Of course, now, years later, by the time he opened his eyes there was nothing there at all. Lorne’s goal today was one of those places of loss; it was the fountain where they had lost one of his fellow knights to chaos, what felt like a life time ago now. He’d honestly known Plou longer as negaverse than he had as knight. But that was one passage of time that did not matter at all. The letter tucked into his back pocket, he hoped, stood as a reminder of that. That it was never too late. That Mont Blonc hadn’t forgotten. There was just one new, crucial detail this time: ‘I am back.’ In the end, bar his worry for Plou, it hadn’t been so hard to leave, had it? With Nadia gone, Auguste gone, so many in his life, just gone, and with Colin and few others a call away - he hadn’t run away. Getting far away from where Archer was was definitely a bonus, but more to the point, Lorne had things to do and very little to make him stay. So he’d left. And now he was back with every intention to finish what he’d started. Even so, with all those memories running through his mind, he’d hardly expected to be standing there face to face with one. At first, he didn’t ever say a word, golden eyes staring like he half-expected the specter to vanish.
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2018 5:01 am
He had been sitting at the park for the better part of an hour before Auguste decided that maybe he was better off being somewhere else. Or maybe just not out at all, his endless weariness and constant loneliness meaning that he was never really satisfied or happy about where he was or what he was doing. Nothing but Pasha to keep him sane and no one but Pasha to even be around him. He had done this to himself, he knew; he had been the one to leave, had been the one to walk away, and he had thought it was the right thing to do at the time.
Now he wasn't so sure. Now, the ache of being alone was something physical inside of him, something tangible that he could almost hold onto if he tried.
Everything hurt.
Slowly, Auguste got to his feet again, wincing a little. Pasha rose as well, obedient and patient as Auguste ran a hand through his pale hair, loose around his shoulders. He gathered her leash and took a breath, then turned to leave the park.
And saw Lorne.
Auguste froze.
It had to be a ghost. It had to be some sort of illusion, something unreal because there was no possible way that Lorne Benoit was standing in front of him with wide, stunned eyes, looking almost the same as he ever had, though perhaps a little older, perhaps a little more tired.
Auguste let out a soundless laugh of disbelief, not moving.
"This is the universe making fun of me, isn't it?" he asked, and his voice was a little hoarse. "This is karma, coming back around full circle. You aren't really here."
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2018 9:47 pm
That moment that Auguste looked at him might as well have been a century for how long it felt. Lorne was frozen there, captivated by it, made stone solid by the weight of it. Then, that hoarse voice met him, rather unlike the sweet voice he’d remembered hearing from his friend in the past. Lorne blinked, confused. And then sort of smiled but in a quizzical way, rocking back onto his heels and easing back a hair before easing forward again. He took a step or two closer. The impulse was there to hug him. They’d gotten to that point before, and Lorne had missed him terribly. But he hesitated, unsure now, face red, because it had been years and Auguste had been the one to leave before he had. Not to say Lorne was angry with him; hurt, yes. But he could understand why it would happen. He wasn’t so important, in the end. “I - I can promise I am real, “ he said a little softly, biting his lip before adding in a way he hoped was light. It wasn’t. He sounded nervous and awkward as always. “M - more likely y- you are the one who isn’t here. You’re much more a dream than I.”
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Posted: Tue Jul 03, 2018 5:00 am
Time seemed to have stopped. Everything seemed to have stopped. The birds were not singing, the wind was not blowing, there were no people around, no chattering, laughing noises of aimless passersby, no clicking sound of bicycles passing.
Nothing except himself, and this specter of a human being who could not possibly be Lorne.
Something in Auguste's throat hurt, felt raw and painful. His own eyes were wide and as Lorne - or the ghost of Lorne - took a step forward, he felt his heart do a complicated sort of beat, a raw throb inside of his chest that made it difficult to breathe, difficult to think straight.
"You're not real," he said again, and this time there was a thickness to his voice that was nothing but painful emotion, and a cracked sound splintered the word real, slicing it in half. Beside him, Pasha pressed against his leg, understanding the initial signs of a possible panic attack before even Auguste could.
"You're not real, because I - I left, and no one was here when I came back, because I knew I had broken everything. I knew I had left it all and that it wasn't worth forgiving. I knew that. You can't be real, because I don't d-deserve you to be real - "
Auguste's vision was blurring. He made another choking sound, shaking his head, a frantic movement that sent pale hair whipping against his flushed cheeks.
"This isn't fair. Why are you doing this to me? Why are you haunting me?"
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Posted: Tue Jul 03, 2018 10:16 am
Lorne's anxiety was a funny thing. For his own sake, his own voice, his own wants, his own desires, it was a constant uphill battle that he was still taking steps in learning to live with. However, if it came down to the benefit of those he cared about - not that it was easier, not that the discomfort went away. But as always, he would make it work. He really did step closer, trying his best to make a soothing sound with his voice. It was a little garbled and didn't totally work, but it was an attempt at any rate. Lorne willed his hand to come to rest on his friend's shoulder, and he bent a little, concern etched across his red face. "I - I am sorry if you don't wish me to - " He didn't think it was the case, per say, but it was Lorne, and with time, the need for consent was important. He still wanted to hug him; he was just very aware that boundaries may or may not have taken root where there were none before. "There's n- nothing to forgive, Auguste. You - it wasn't just you, it was - it was no one's fault. Everyone left for their own reasons, e - even me." Even if it had been after Nadia and Auguste were already gone. That hardly mattered to him, though. He just hated to see Auguste so upset. However hurt he'd been, "I'm just glad to see you, " and he gave a small smile, for that was the truth. "Please. Don't cry. It's not your fault. You broke nothing."
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Posted: Tue Jul 03, 2018 4:43 pm
He felt like he was about to fracture at the seams; like he was about to take a step forward off of a cliff and tumble into oblivion, because the world was not supposed to be so cruel to someone, even if that someone deserved it. The world had already given Auguste Atwell a litany of pain and heartache and too much of it was interlaced with stupid choices that he had made himself.
He'd left. He'd taken Pasha and he'd left. Nadia had been gone when he had returned. Lorne had been gone before that. The nameless one that he couldn't think of because it ached in his chest had disappeared. And Colin...
Colin, who had given him almost everything that he could have ever wanted, who had brought him into this little, precious family, could not and would not trust him again, and it wasn't as though Auguste could have blamed him. He had shattered the fragile remains of any bonds that had once held things together.
It hurt, but it was a hurt he deserved.
Which meant that it could not be Lorne here, standing with his expression something akin to sadness or maybe concern or maybe something else that felt too pure and too bright for Auguste to understand. He was standing here, and he was telling Auguste that he was glad to see him, and the world was changing around him, mocking him. That had to be the only truth in this scenario, because Lorne being back was too good to be true.
Lorne being back, and not hating him, not pushing him away, was a gift that felt unnatural and surreal, and Auguste didn't know if he could trust it.
His mouth opened, and then shut. Auguste was staring at him, at the familiar features, at the lanky form with his tousled black hair and those warm, pleading eyes, and the way that he spoke, which was so achingly nostalgic that it made Auguste's heart want to explode or crumple, one or the other.
You broke nothing.
He took a hiccuping, strangled breath that caught in his throat. Several tears slid from his eyes, burning over his flushed face. Auguste took a step forward, and then another, uncertain, hesitant, as though he wanted to make sure that he really wasn't a ghost.
Pasha's leash fell from his fingers, and then Auguste was running, leaping, and his arms went up around Lorne's neck and he was holding him so tightly that he felt as though he might be crushing him, but he couldn't let go, couldn't do anything but hold on.
"Lorne?"
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Posted: Wed Jul 04, 2018 9:10 am
It was akin to a dam breaking, wasn't it? That moment where things snapped into place and just like that, Auguste made it abundantly clear how comfortable he was with contact - and because it was him, a relieved sort of laugh bubbled from his lips and he just easily wrapped his arms tight around his friend, so glad to have him back. Not that Colin wasn't enough friend to keep him going, but that didn't mean the ache of missing everyone else was at all diminished. Even surrounded by new people in a new place in a new career, he'd been so lonely, pushing himself hard to be able to accomplish what he set out to do. He hoped some of the strain would ease now that he was home again, but he'd never expected - "I missed you, "and that seemed like the most fitting thing to say. It never would have occurred to him that Auguste would have blamed himself for - it was the natural progression, or so he'd kept trying to tell himself to find solace. Everyone had their own motivations and inspirations, and if they left, he couldn't blame them. Even if every time it reminded him that he didn't have enough to offer to begin with. But that was irrelevant.
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Posted: Wed Jul 04, 2018 4:25 pm
He was real.
He was real, and he was solid under Auguste's arms, and he was real.
Lorne Benoit was back, and it was making everything in Auguste's mind shift sideways, tilting sharply as though he'd just been on a boat that was capsizing and now it was shoved back upright again. His arms clung tightly to Lorne, blatantly afraid that if he let go, he'd disappear into the cloudy, bright sky, and that would be the end of this dreamlike encounter.
Auguste had lifted himself up off of his feet, too short to embrace Lorne properly without doing so, and Lorne's arms were around him to keep him there, holding him back without hesitation and without thinking. The strangled laugh that Auguste could hear was like a songbird's note, floating between them, and he couldn't breathe properly, his chest heaving.
I missed you.
It was a breath given back to his lungs, a step given forward. Auguste drew back just enough to put his hands on either side of Lorne's face, fingers smoothing over his cheeks to make sure that he was, in fact, not a mirage of some sort, and a hiccuping sort of sound escaped, half strangled.
"I missed you, too," Auguste managed, and he leaned forward to peck a kiss to Lorne's lips before throwing his arms back around him and burying his face in his neck. Auguste had always been a physical creature, affectionate and open, and now, years later, he could think of nothing else that he wanted to do more than hold onto this man.
Lorne was not Colin, but he didn't need to be. Lorne was himself and he had given Auguste his friendship and his support and his love and that was all that Auguste had wanted, because Lorne, like Nadia, was the family that Auguste had not ever known he had needed until he had met them. Colin was - Colin was something else, something different, something unnameable, but Lorne and Nadia were his sister and his brother in hearts and souls and that alone made them irreplaceable.
"I can't believe you're real," Auguste mumbled, his face wet. "I'm sorry, Lorne. I'm so sorry."
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Posted: Thu Jul 05, 2018 11:08 am
It'd been a long time since he'd felt Auguste's hands come to rest on his face like that, and it was funny - all three of them had rather been that way, Colin, Nadia, and Auguste. Lorne supposed it was probably his own fault; he was so prone to looking away, it was probably natural to try and connect him, to calm him, to soothe him. It was probably troublesome, but all three of them seemed to know that it was the best way to reach him. Still, they all had their own unique way of doing it, little quirks that made it unique to them. Nadia's fingers tended to slide, like they wanted to reach every inch of him. Colin's were more firm, like he wanted to seep traces of sunshine into Lorne's pale skin. Auguste's touch was usually the softest, a reflection of his own nerves, although his hands were always soft and warm to the touch. When he'd had his troubles with the negaverse, when more than once his starseed, his center of being, had been threatened, those touches from all three had grown a little more - not rough, but tight, like they were trying to keep him from fading rather than drawing him out of his shell. Auguste's touch now had more than a trace of the desperation; how long had he felt so much guilt? The kiss, as was typical, made him turn an assortment of fun colors, although he laughed softly again, shaking his head as he tugged his friend closer, safer in his arms. "I - I told you, no need for sorry, it - it was not your fault - it's fine, " he was lying. It hadn't been fine. But he was not angry, and Auguste was in pain. "W - we all had our own... our own things to do, it's - it's really only natural that we would leave, I - I mean - I left too, I - I'm just glad that fate brought us t-together again." It sounded cliche, but it was how he felt; when people left his life, Lorne didn't expect them to come back. He never expected to be missed.
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Posted: Fri Jul 06, 2018 5:48 pm
Even though he had been the one to leave, even though he had been the one to walk away, even though he had been the one who shouldered all of the blame for this fractured life he now led, the sheer strength of just how much Auguste had missed Lorne was irrefutable and intangible. It was a pulsing, powerful wave, a staggering and irrepressible surge of emotions and feelings that were now spilling out of him, crashing around him.
Auguste had gone a year without talking to anyone except Pasha, and then another six months isolated in his hotel room because he'd been too afraid and too full of self-loathing and frustration and sadness to talk to the one person he'd had left who now couldn't stand him.
Life had broken Auguste's heart, but Lorne being back was a fragment that was put back into place.
It was habit to cradle Lorne's face like this. To make him face forward, to keep him reminded that he was not alone in the world, because it was something that Auguste had wanted to remind him and himself of constantly. It was a habit, and even now, after years, he hadn't broken it. Other things, maybe, but not this.
And Lorne's arms were just as secure and just as welcoming around him as they had been years before. Auguste tightened his grasp, unwilling to let go just yet, because this was Lorne. This was Lorne, and he was here, and he was safe, and he was alive.
"I missed you," he said, and it hurt his throat. "I missed you. I love you."
In spite of all their closeness, in spite of all of their physical affection, the three words I love you weren't actually spoken all that often, and Auguste couldn't actually recall a time where he'd said it before, at least to Lorne. They were three words he was still afraid of, in a way, because it meant something different to Auguste than it did for anyone else.
The year alone on his homeworld had hardened him, sharpened out some of the softness, hollowed out something behind Auguste's eyes. He leaned back and allowed himself to slide to the ground again, though somewhat reluctantly, Auguste moving his arms around Lorne's waist, his forehead resting against his chest.
He breathed in, and then out.
"Are you...can we go somewhere and just...talk?"
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Posted: Sat Jul 07, 2018 4:48 am
Lorne was the type to underestimate his own worth; that was something that had not really changed in all the years that had passed. If anything, it served to remind him how fleeting his longevity in peoples' lives really was. And he couldn't really blame people for that, for living and growing and moving on. Colin was an exception, not a rule. It was the first time that Auguste had said something like that to him, and a red flush immediately spread across his face, not immediately knowing how to process it. Even so, there was something gratifying in hearing it, more than he would have expected: Lorne did matter to him. Somehow. He'd been gone, but not forgotten as expected. He did matter. Lorne hoped it did not discourage Auguste when he could only hold him back tighter, words failing him as they often did, just happy to be there with him, just happy that he could make his friend even a little happier by being there. And with that sort of question - "O-of course, anywhere - I have plenty of time." The letter could wait for later. There was no telling when Ploutonian even got those letters, if it was him reading them at all. "You can tell me everything." Anything, too.
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Posted: Sat Jul 07, 2018 5:43 am
He didn't need it to be said back to him, he just needed to say it, because it was true, and because there was precious little that Auguste had been able to say to anyone over the last year and a half. His heart felt like it was about to fail at any moment, but he couldn't stop himself from wanting to cling tighter to Lorne. If he let go - if he let go would Lorne disappear?
He couldn't take that chance.
Auguste pulled back from Lorne, stepping far enough away that he was no longer wrapped around him; but his free hand reached to slide down Lorne's wrist and tangle their fingers together, a movement that spoke of an anxiousness and a fear without words. He turned and began leading them both out of the park, knowing Lorne wouldn't fight the path, Pasha ambling along on his other side.
"What...were you doing here, anyway?" Auguste asked, after a moment, vowels sliding together, the urge to slip back into French edging onto his tongue. It was always hard, when he was flustered, to find the words in English. He had to work to remember what went where.
"Did - have you just been to take a walk, or..?"
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Posted: Sun Jul 08, 2018 7:51 am
Lorne knew well what it meant; suffering from anxiety himself, it was both understandable and a comfort. He squeezed Auguste's fingers gently in his own, in a way that was probably reassuring for the both of them, and released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding all this time. It wouldn't have mattered to him much if Auguste had slipped back into French. Lorne was still fluent himself, and way his friend spoke, if unsure, was nice in a strange way. Familiar. It was one of the ways they'd always related, wasn't it? As expected, Lorne did not bat so much of an eye as he was led along. Shy and awkward as he could be, clumsy even, he never really failed at matching the gait of a loved one perfectly. "I was.. ah..." Lorne's cheeks burned, although he wasn't really sure why. He didn't really think it was anything to be embarrassed about. "Ploutonion, " he said with a kind of bittersweet smile. "I - I haven't been here for a while, b-but Colin, he's been - been helping me to leave letters for him. I'm back now, so - I just wanted him to know, " and with his free hand, he patted the letter in his back pocket. "I mean, if he's even the one reading them. I don't know. S-someone takes them though."
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Posted: Sun Jul 08, 2018 2:33 pm
He felt Lorne fall into step beside him and this small, simple thing nearly sent Auguste's heart into overdrive. A desperate desire to cling to this feeling was threatening to overwhelm him, Auguste tamping down on it, trying to remember that these fragile moments were just that - fragile and breakable and that he needed to keep them from falling apart.
He knew only too well how capable he was of doing exactly that.
Auguste's head turned a little, gaze flickering up at Lorne's face as they made their way down the sidewalk towards the main part of the city. "Plutoninum," he repeated, and then remembered. "Oh. Oh, that...that knight that corrupted. Your friend?"
He hadn't known the other knight, but he'd remembered the devastation that had stemmed from his corruption, the terrible sense of loss. Auguste gave Lorne's hand a small, reassuring squeeze, glancing left and then right as he made to cross a street as the lights changed.
"I'm sure he's reading them," said Auguste firmly. "He has to be."
They were halfway across the street when the rest of what Lorne had said caught up to him, and Auguste felt a terrible, painful jolt somewhere in the pit of his stomach. He nearly stopped in the middle of the street, but instead just tripped a little, scuffling onto the sidewalk on the other side.
"Colin's been helping you?"
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