caycay | IC Inbox - Duplicity

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.

[Cater shakes his head weakly, but he can't find the words to say what he's thinking--doesn't have the strength to argue what he knows is true: that he doesn't deserve much of anything. Maybe when he was still younger, when he still tried. But now, he was just a liar and a slacker. An unreliable ghost, walking through life without goals or ambitions. Nothing but fear or uncertainty for the future, nothing but bitterness and longing for the past.

Without consciously willing it, the color that's returned to his body starts to recede back to invisibility once more.]

You get what you give in life, right?

[Suddenly, there's a bit of tension in Riddle's form. His voice is tight and assertive:]

Hey.

[To get Cater's attention. Once he's sure he does, his hand comes back to caress his cheek, tone softening a bit.]

No one gets away with talking about my right hand man like that. Not even you.

[Cater peeks up at Riddle from behind splayed fingers, only the vague traces of his green eyes visible there. He swallows back a thick knot in his throat, trying to find anything to say that isn't some kind of self-flagellating nonsense.]

Sorry. When I get like this, I...

[He swallows again, tears still streaming unbidden down his cheeks.]

I just can't stop myself. Sometimes I get so paralyzed, I stay in bed for days.

[Riddle's gaze softens, and his hand moves to gently coax away Cater's.]

I imagine it's a long-ingrained habit.

[Gentle and understanding, even in his firmness.]

We'll work on breaking it together.

As long as I can really remember.

[Even before split card, he'd cry so often, all alone in his room, surrounded by boxes and suitcases. He often never even got the chance to fully unpack--and sometimes, he wouldn't even bother taking out more than what he needed on an average day. Why bother, when he'd just as soon be putting it all away again?

Still, he lets Riddle uncover his face, his expression so haunted, so hollow. Nothing like the Cater Diamond who threw his Unbirthday Party, or who would prance around in a ridiculous outfit, taking selfies and laughing his head off, spouting nonsense. Piece by piece, his body becomes heavier, sagging under the weight of emotional exhaustion.]

What if it isn't worth it?

[Somehow, the softly whispered question sounds more like: What if I'm not worth it?]

[As long as he can remember. His entire life... a fear of being alone.

At the question, Riddle gives a small smile, and that hand comes up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing away the tears.]

If, from this point on, you never did another thing for me... everything you'd already done would still make it worth it.

[The way Riddle looks at him, the way he treats him so gently, without expectations. He's so different from the Riddle that Overblotted, who would struggle to show affection without the biting tone of a threat involved. In a lot of ways, it's harder on Cater--he considered Riddle a friend even back then, of course, but they were never so close that he'd feel too badly when he ultimately left for senior year's internship.

Riddle hand changed so much, grown so much, and Cater could see now more than ever just how tangled their lives had become. Because of that, the ache in his heart is so much stronger, the insidious voice in his head warning him of the end so much louder.

When he looks into Riddle's eyes, though, it's impossible not to feel safe...and to feel seen, at least for the moment.

Insecurities fading into a static buzz in the back of his brain, Cater's tears finally come to a stop, a tiny smile lifting the edges of his lips. It's so vulnerable, and so tired, but it's so undeniably real, too. As he finally starts to reappear more solidly in Riddle's arms, Cater lets out a tiny laugh.]

Have you always been so romantic?

[There it is. That small, genuine smile and easing of Cater's muscles. And as that tension lifts, so does the ache in Riddle's heart for him.

His thoughts are abruptly derailed, however, by that question, blood rushing to his face.]

Wh— I'm not...!

You totally are.

[Cater chuckles again, sniffles, closing his eyes to eliminate a touch of the soreness setting in. Finally reciprocating some of Riddle's gentle touches, he reaches out to cup one of those blushing cheeks.]

It's not a bad thing.

[He huffs, pouting a little now that the heavy conversation has had its due time.

But that touch to his cheek is unexpected and so warm and gentle, and he can't help but close his eyes and lean into it.]

...you seriously underestimate how much you've improved my life if that's what you think.

[One icy-gray eye opens to look at Cater.]

[Small smile still stuck in place as Riddle leans into his palm, Cater regards his housewarden with a measure of confusion.]

What do you mean? It's not like...I mean, I haven't really done anything.

[Maybe not consciously.]

I wouldn't take credit for something like that.

Of course you have.

[It's quietly insisted.]

Especially since coming here. Even though... you don't have any obligation to act as my soldier any longer, you still do. You never even hesitated.

When you arrived, and then threw that party for me, I felt more like myself than I have ever since I arrived several months before.

And... you did all of that, while struggling to adjust not only to a new world, but the loss of your Signature Spell.

[A tiny smile back.]

You're much more amazing than you give yourself credit for.

IC Inbox - Duplicity

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