caycay | IC Inbox - Duplicity

[Riddle studies him for a few moments... Then lets out a little sigh, and nods.

He shifts, hands coming up to help tear the suit off him. It's a relief once he's completely out, as is evidenced by the much heavier sigh.

He looks to Cater, then gives a little smile.]

You handled that situation very well, by the way. You were able to keep yourself calm enough to assess and act as quickly as you could. My airflow wasn't even cut off that long.

And the wound itself only feels to be superficial, which is the best outcome that one could have hoped for.

[Getting all of that taken care of helps Cater get himself back on track. When Riddle smiles, he smiles back--even if it's weary around the edges, a mask that hasn't been put back into place quite so seamlessly.]

You know me, Queen. Cay Cay always performs best under pressure!

[He takes a second to run a hand through the torn scraps of velvety membrane through his fingers before gathering up as much as he can to toss into the waste bin.]

Well, the whole day's plan is kinda in scraps. Any ideas what to do, instead?

That's alright.

[He seems reinvigorated, suddenly, a hand coming up to his chin thoughtfully.]

After this wound is treated, I know just the topic for conversation.

Oh yeah? You have me all in suspense!

[He's deeply hoping that it isn't a return to what they were just talking about. What's the point, anyway? It's like Riddle said: he's incapable of change. The life he lives is a hopeless spiral of self-imposed cowardice and emotional isolation.

Talk is cheap, just like he is.

Cater hums to himself as he returns from trashing the fibrous scraps and wets the washcloth with cleaning solution. He sits beside Riddle so he can dab carefully at the cut.]

It doesn't look too deep...as long as we keep it clean, it should heal over fast and not leave a scar.

Mhm.

[A small smile as Cater treats him.]

A small price to pay. I owe you a great debt.

Ahaha...

[Cater's façade is so touch-and-go right now and he knows it. He's afraid if he opens his mouth too much, he's going to say something he regrets. So, he focuses on his work until he's satisfied that things are as good as they're going to get, for now.]

There! All set.

[He gathers up the first aid supplies and moves to put them back where he got them from, the washcloth in the laundry hamper.]

You know, I bet you'd be extra sexy with a battle wound, tbqh.

[At least despite the obvious struggle, Riddle still seems calm and relaxed. Learning more of the real Cater hasn't turned Riddle off of him, or has him considering him any less of a friend.

And that much might be obvious with the way a small noise gets caught in his throat, a slight blush rising to his cheeks.]

T-b-q-h...?

To be quite honest. Or TBH for just to be honest. Kinda on brand with imho/imo, which is in my (honest) opinion. And that's your hashtag Cay-Cay lesson for the day!

[Cater gives a peace sign and winks, posing cutely.]

But you don't need extra credit in sexiness, Queen. You're hashtag perfect just the way you are.

[Another little sound at all of that as Riddle briefly ducks his head.]

You're too much sometimes...

[And then he looks up at Cater, and pats the space next to him.]

I'm a Diamond: I gotta shine bright!

[Larger than life, yolo, go big, etc. Taking an easy breath and hoping to keep things steered away from harder conversation, Cater slides into the space Riddle pats like a dog coming on command. Sit, stay--he'd roll over, too, if asked.]

But it's not like you can't handle me even when I'm at my most extra.

Hmm.

[An amused sound from Riddle. When Cater comes over, a sly look enters his eye, and with deceptive strength, he suddenly grabs Cater and pulls him down on top of Riddle.]

I can handle you at your most extra... and at your least, too.

[His gaze gentles as he brings a hand up to stroke through the orange locks. His voice quiets.]

I know it's a lot to ask for out of you, my dear soldier. We'll get through this together.

Now, can you tell me what you've tried to do to change your behavior?

Whoa--!

[Cater always forgets just how strong Riddle is. Like, he still isn't a paragon of physical strength, but he's still much more capable than he looks. Part of it is just the decisive way in which he strikes. Somehow, Cater was completely unsuspecting, barely catching himself from fully slamming his body on top of Riddle's. Looking down at the redhead, he sighs, expression dimming.]

You're not going to let it go, are you?

Let go of the thing that's making your life hell?

[Firmly:]

Not a chance.

[With a sigh, Cater runs hand through his hair, ducking his head in a moment of thought before forcing himself to look into Riddle's eyes again.]

Okay. [He'll talk. He doesn't like it, but he'll do it. Even if he doesn't know how to say I'm the one making my life hell.] If you woke up tomorrow and I'd disappeared from the city, what would you do?

[His brow pinches at the question. Immediately, his heart picks up, beating against Cater. His jawline tenses.

After a moment, he forces out a whisper:]

I don't know.

[Riddle lived his days to the fullest here.

But not holding back came with a price. Would Riddle regret it? He doesn't think he would, but that wouldn't stop it from tearing him apart.]

[Cater nods, quietly. His own heart picks up as a thought comes to him, a way that he might be able to share his fears with Riddle better than words...but to really make an impact, he can't warn him. Besides that, Cater's never really tried to will this ability into happening, so he's not sure how effective it will be. Well...only one way to find out.]

Hey, it's like what I always say: YOLO, right?

[He gives Riddle a sad, somewhat broken-looking smile, a real look at the ingenuine feelings behind his cheerful words of carpe diem and not sweating consequences. And then, suddenly, as Cater closes his eyes...

he simply vanishes.]

... huh?

[What does YOLO even mean—]

[—?!?

His breath sucks in sharply, and it's impossible to miss how his heart skips a beat or two.]

Cater?!

[And then, the hand in his hair registers. Breathing still quick and alarmed, he strokes through it to assure him of his presence.]

[Slowly, his breath releases in a woosh. He's quiet for a moment, frown on his face as he lays there, brow still furrowed as he pets Cater and waits for his breathing and heartbeat to settle.]

...when'd you get that?

...a while back, after everyone got those weird energy drinks. I was completely invisible for, like, a full week--thought maybe I'd never reappear again, but I can control it now, or at least I can semi-control it.

[It still sneaks up on him sometimes, if not making him completely invisible making him an effective ghost. Cater sighs, focusing on reappearing. It's much harder, color returning bit by bit, from his fingertips first.]

Sorry, Riddle. I just wanted to make a point. Terrifying, isn't it?

[He frowns softly as Cater talks, still petting him.]

...yeah. Yeah, it is.

[He could say a lot of things. "Of course it is." "I never said it wasn't."

Yet his patience with Cater remains, even as he's tested.]

...have you felt that sort of fear a lot in your life?

Constantly.

[The only thing keeping him from spiraling into a more blatantly emotional state is the effort it takes to concentrate on becoming visible. He breathes slowly, but the tension along his body is enough to betray his considerably stressed he feels. Instead of settling against Riddle, he keeps his hands clenched into fists against the sheets on either side of him. It feels like at any moment he might bolt--but where would he go, if he did?]

But it's worse, here. Before, I just had to worry about being the one who had to leave. But now, now it could be anyone, at any time, and even if they come back everything we've shared together could be completely wiped from their memory. There won't be time for a goodbye party or reminiscing while packing bags. Just over, done, you're all alone and not even a memory. I think about it every day. It keeps me up at night. At least before, I could always tell myself that at the end of the day, no matter where I was or who was left, I'd always have myself. I'd be there for me, so I wasn't really ever alone, you know? Like, not physically. I don't have that here, though. If everyone else disappeared, there's no second or third or fourth or however many mes it might take to get through another night.

Cater...

[He's so haunted. So afraid. And can Riddle really blame him? It isn't like he hasn't been gripped by that same fear before... he'd just learned ways to distract himself. To soothe the haunting thoughts and feelings a bit.

He shifts to wrap his arms around Cater once more, holding him tightly and securely. He whispers into his ear.]

For this moment, at least, I can assure you you're not alone. I'm here for you.

Be with me, Cater.

[Cater's body resists, at first, against the pull of Riddle's arms, but his own shake and everything starts to feel like its burning, and it's taking so much energy just to exist in this space that he crumbles, hands covering his still invisible face. His voice pitches into the telltale sign of tears erupting forth.]

It's too nice...

[It was easier, despite his secret unhappiness, to enjoy his day-to-day routine. His silly boy façade. Duplicity is such a different beast and he just can't seem to find the right strategy to fight against it.]

The closer we get, the more scared I feel for tomorrow.

[No amount of promising can give them the final stay in where they'll end up.]

I know. I know.

[Riddle speaks to him lowly, hand rubbing his back as his heart aches for his dear soldier. Never would he have guessed that he was struggling so terribly. That he was barely holding on. Until they'd come here.]

You've suffered a lot. You deserve more than your waking nightmares.

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