caycay | I've Been Lonely

If Idia was any more self-aware at that moment, he might've flinched at the touch. As it is, he continues to sob wildly for some time, his hair flared over a large portion of the bed in a riot of blues, greens, and yellows like someone threw color-changing chemicals on a bonfire. Vibrant as those colors are, something in the combination is instinctively sickening to behold, backed up by the shaking, hysterical form of the teenager attached to them.

By the time he calms enough to realize Cater is awake and trying to comfort him, his head is pounding from adrenaline and his eyes burn. Sniffling, he can only nod in response to his boyfriend's question, still covering his face with both hands. It was a nightmare but also so much more: a terrible memory and a horrible fear all warped together.

Incredibly worried, Cater doesn't say anything as Idia sobs, just pulling his arms around him and pulling him close, rocking their bodies together in an easy, gentle motion. The best thing he can do is wait for the tears to slow and for Idia to come back to him. When he does, his voice is gentle. "Hey, it's okay. Look at me, I'm not going anywhere..."

Keeping one arm wrapped around Idia's back, he uses the other to touch the back of his boyfriend's hand where it covers his face. "But take your time, okay?"

Idia finally lowers his hands and looks up, his bloodshot eyes puffy and red beneath their normal midnight blue dark circles. The haunted expression on his face is truly awful, maybe worse than the night he confessed to his part in Ortho's death. Seeing Cater both soothes and scares him, the dregs of the nightmare casting a shadow of a malicious grin and blot's dark stain over the other boy's worried features. Idia has to squeeze his eyes shut, unable to meet Cater's eyes for fear that the nightmare will grow into reality. His hair gradually calms, even dimming further than usual, but the nauseating swirl of those colors remains.

His shaking fingers lace with Cater's own, clinging in quiet desperation. Another distant rumble of thunder shakes the room and Idia gasps in a liquid-sounding breath, on the brink of a renewed sob.

His focus addled by adrenaline and interrupted sleep, Cater makes the first assumption he can. Not, of course, the contents of the nightmare, but what it was that triggered it. Squeezing Idia's hand back, Cater caresses the side with his thumb, bringing their joined hands up to kiss at his knuckles before kissing that tear streaked cheek. "I didn't know that thunder had this kind of effect on you. We can prepare for storms in the future."

Idia can't remember if storms have bothered him like this since his Overblot. Is this the first time the nightmares coincided with a storm? Did the storm trigger the nightmare? But it's not the storm that frightened him, it's the memory of thunder and the pain that came with it, the memory of Ortho's cry and his own fury. They became a monster together, the Overblotted mage and his phantom brother.

But what finally catapulted him out of his nightmare and into waking? Seeing Cater there with the others when he hadn't been, the blot crashing over them like a tsunami of hate and resentment, twisting his lover into a monster as well. He'll never forget the sight manufactured by his unconscious, a mage driven to madness and then death from a fused quartet of looming phantoms. How can he ever explain what has made him terrified to close his eyes again? If he tries to describe it, he might be sick. He doesn't want Cater to know what his depraved brain did.

Instead of saying anything just yet, he presses his face into the juncture of Cater's neck and shoulder to hide, still shivering uncontrollably. Thank the Seven he bypassed Ortho's biometric alarms in case they'd decided to have sex tonight. He doesn't want that additional stress. Breathing exercises, he has to remember what Ortho always has him do after a panic attack. This panic is so much worse, but Cater is here with him.

Cater hasn't Overblotted.

Idia takes deep, slow breaths, inhaling Cater's scent. He holds it, lets it out slowly, breathes in again. Gradually, his heart begins to slow and his headache abates somewhat. He takes one last breath and huffs out a rough sigh.

"Hate my stupid brainmeat so much."

Having no intention of breaking the close cradle he's formed around Idia, Cater kisses the top of his head. He shifts to make sure that the taller boy is as comfortable as possible against him, encouraging his breathing with his own, hoping to help Idia match that tempo. "We'll always have parts of us that hurt," he murmurs, "but I love every part of your beautiful brain even with those included."

He hates to see Idia having such obvious, deeply disturbing trauma, but even wanting to help him heal, it's all still a part of what makes Idia who he is. "I'll love you hardest when you can't love yourself."

Sighing again, Idia lets go of Cater's hand so he can hug his boyfriend instead. His forehead remains pillowed on the other boy's shoulder, his temple pressed to the side of Cater's neck. It's impossible to miss the clammy sweat clinging to his skin. "You're too good to me. Such high CHA, as usual."

Now that his panic has almost resolved, the shame begins to settle in more fully. How embarrassing for Cater to see him freak out that badly! It's going to lead to uncomfortable questions later, or at the very least worried looks and maybe some hovering. As much as Idia craves attention and validation from Cater, he hates worrying his boyfriend. There's no denying that this was a really bad panic attack, no matter how much he might try.

"Don't know if I can resume sleep mode now. You don't have to stay powered on, but can I keep holding you?"

"Of course you can," Cater responds without hesitation, almost surprised that Idia even has to ask--but of course he would, he's Idia. It's not an ideal sort of cuddle, but it's what's needed and that takes priority over everything else. "But, honestly, I'm not sure how fast I'll be going to sleep again either."

He's sure he will, even if he doesn't want to--he's not used to staying up late, after all--but it'll take a little bit of time before the adrenaline leaves his system and allows him to crash. "Would anything help take your mind off of it?"

There's a curiosity, of course, wanting to know just what Idia's nightmare contained...but right now, questioning him isn't an option. Even if talking about these kind of things tends to help, he'll need time to calm down and process it all or else the risk of triggering another panic attack is way too high.

If Cater has trouble going back to sleep, he'll be exhausted in the morning and could sleep through his alarm, which means he risks getting caught by Riddle. Great, another reason for Idia to hate himself for his inconvenient brain. He shakes his head, which really just rubs his forehead against Cater's shoulder. "Dunno. Not feeling like otaku stuff, definitely not feeling sexy. Just kinda hollowed out, like somebody did a reformat on my mood partition."

He's had nightmares before and just defaulted to watching anime or playing a game if he didn't want to go back to sleep. This time, something's different. He still feels sick and unsettled, even if he's basically calm. What if something in a show or game triggers another meltdown? If he can't trust his usual fallback strategies, what can he do? "Have you ever had your malware crash your system that badly? What do you do?"

It's a difficult question--his malware is similar to Idia's but the way they cope is so different...

It's easy enough to think of what he's done before, when things got so bad he wasn't sure he could stand it. Self-destruct quietly, sabotage himself, see just how far he could drain his magical battery while he hid away from the world. But there were more conceptual things, too. Writing diaries, destroying the evidence like it would take those feelings and make them disappear.

He figures that he could at least talk without the expectation that he's giving advice. Maybe just the sound of his voice would do Idia some good.

"When I get so bad that it's like I'm drowning, I have to take what I'm feeling and turn it into something else. Usually, I'll write songs. Not good ones or anything, but it's something constructive. And if I can't manage to put it to paper I'll just...sing. Whatever comes out."

Idia's creative, but it's a different type of creativity from Cater's. He's skilled at engineering concepts and visualization of schematics, not the pure artistic creativity of songwriting or photo composition. Cater's offered him advice, and Idia's heart aches that it really won't help him much.

"I think... I kinda want to just cuddle. If I accidentally trigger myself, I'll be a wreck, and I don't know what might do it."

Cater has become his anchor, he knows that. Maybe it's not entirely healthy in the long term, but for now they can support each other. The simple act of holding his boyfriend is keeping him together right now. He shifts a little so he can rest his head on Cater's chest, closing his eyes to listen to the heartbeat under his ear.

"You're here, you're okay. You're... you're really okay...."

Cater gives a hum of understanding, squeezing Idia more tightly. With care, he lays them back down--all the while making sure his grip never loosens. "I'm right here," he agrees, running a hand through his boyfriend's hair. "I'm not going anywhere."

He had a nightmare about me? As he ponders this, his brow furrows, and he's glad their position and the darkness keeps it from being betrayed. The last thing Cater wants is for Idia to fixate on something like that. Knowing him, he's probably already beating himself up just for having woken him up even though it was totally out of his own control.

It takes a while, Idia silently clinging with his gangly limbs curled up almost into a fetal position, but eventually the adrenaline crash does drag him into unconsciousness. His hair dims nearly enough to show the translucent strands beneath the flames, the only color remaining mercifully a calm blue. Equally merciful is a lack of dreams beyond the REM equivalent of white noise, enough to provide some refreshing of his mind by morning.

It’s still going to be a rough day ahead, though.

Cater doesn't let himself fall asleep until he registers Idia's even breathing and more lax body against his own. He relaxes a bit, but finds himself waking up throughout the rest of the night even after sleep finds him. What was Idia dreaming? It had to have been something terrible--he'd thought it was probably a memory, the Seven knew that he had plenty of them to scream about, but if he was involved...well, even when they fought, he's pretty sure he didn't inspire that kind of reaction.

The not knowing, the imagining, eats at him. When Idia's familiar alarm goes off in the morning, Cater's head is pounding. Still, he puts on as soft of an expression as he can as he rubs Idia's back, kissing his forehead and murmuring for him to wake up. He has a feeling that Idia's not going to be going to class with him today, but he still has to detangle himself so Cater can get back to Heartslabyul.

"Morning, Flam-bae. Sun rose with no regard for the rest of us."

Idia groans, slower to wake than usual. His dark circles are definitely deeper and his eyes barely open, squinting at Cater. He makes no move to let go of his boyfriend. Yes, he knows Riddle will have Cater’s head if he doesn’t rush back to his own dorm, but the need to cling is so strong. If he lets go, will Cater vanish forever? Will something awful happen to the other boy in the cruel outside world?

But he can’t be selfish all the time. Reluctantly, he untangles himself from Cater, only to wrap around his pillow instead. He buries his face in the plush lump, muffling his fatigue-roughened voice. “Bad day. Staying.”

As soon as Cater's switched from his Idia-suite specific pajamas over to his uniform, he leans back over to kiss the back of Idia's head and give him a quick squeeze. "Take it easy, okay? I love you--I'll swing by at lunch with something for you to eat that's easy on the stomach, and make sure you hydrate while I'm gone."

He wishes he could stay--now more than ever it's infuriating that he can't. The temptation to wrap his arms all the way around Idia and hug him close and not let go is so, so strong. Even managing to ignore the urge, he lingers a bit longer than he knows he should, letting his boyfriend feel the comforting pressure of his body against his back.

Idia grunts, but it's softer, less grumpy. It's an expression of affection when he's too damned tired to talk more. Cater lingering with him feels nice, but at the same time he doesn't want his boyfriend to get into trouble. But he should really say a proper goodbye at least, since Cater risks so much to be here with him. Sighing, he finally lifts his head and tries to smile, even if it's more than a little wobbly.

"Love you, too." His voice is so rough from sobbing, he sounds sick. "Don't get caught. Stealth mode."

With Idia turning to look at him, Cater offers him a wink, hoping his signature charm will help lift his spirits at least a little. "Don't you worry about me--I'm dual-classing as a rogue."

One more fast, stolen kiss later and he's at the door. "I'll share my notes with you later," Cater says behind him as a final parting, knowing that Idia can easily record it himself but wanting to take as much pressure off as possible. With that, the door slides shut behind him and Idia's left in solitude. Creeping back to the mirror chamber and into the realm of Heartslabyul once more, Cater's back through his dorm window with a moment to spare before Riddle comes making the rounds.

It's become a familiar route, now, easy enough so long as his timing isn't off or Riddle doesn't do anything unexpected. Fortunately, his housewarden rarely breaks routine, and Cater's in front of a mirror pulling up his hair as his door swings open. He's even complimented on being dressed so promptly. Once he's alone again, though, his face falls as he looks in his mirror. With nobody there to put on a cheerful face for, he stares grimly back at himself.

What's the rest of the day going to look like? Damn, he'll have to put extra concealer on to hide the bags under his eyes, and definitely extra espresso in his latte. What a shitty morning.

Cater isn't the only one whose mood tanks the rest of the way when he's alone. Idia saw the dark bags under his boyfriend's eyes, heard the exhaustion laced into his words. It's his fault. He woke Cater up, kept him awake too long, because of his awful broken brain. Things had been good for so long, no wonder the return of Bad Things hit this hard. The gloom had to pay him back for daring to be happy.

Cater needs to make an informed decision on whether or not to stay with Idia. But how can he know everything that happened? Idia's gaze falls on his computer. Maybe he wouldn't be able to talk about it, but if he can show Cater the truth without being there to watch the shock and horror settle in, that would work. He has his skill set, he'll use it to communicate his darkest secrets.

So Idia drags himself out of bed and flops into his computer chair without bothering to do anything else first. Forget showering or brushing his teeth, forget breakfast or class, he has to slog through this heartbreaking project. Letting himself remember that last quick kiss-- maybe the last one he'll ever get if Cater is disgusted by him-- he rests his fingertips on the virtual keyboards and starts to work.

Morning classes are a drag. Coffee is the only thing that keeps him alert enough to take notes and avoid the wrath of the teachers from coming down on him. Keeping up his friendly attitude is harder, but he still tries to have a few quickly-cut-off conversations here and there between lectures. It's a relief when lunch comes, and he's able to brush off the people who ask to sit with him with the detail-omitted truth: a classmate is sick and I promised to drop off some things.

Putting together a meal from the cafeteria that's safe for a bland meal, Cater takes a quiet pit-stop to magic a colored pattern into the top of the mound of cooked rice: a red diamond with a winking face that says Eat up Flam-bae! around it.

Once he reaches Ignihyde, his face falls. He's honestly worried about what he's going to find. Will Idia even be out of bed? Will he have gotten sicker? How's he going to be able to leave him for the second half of the day when all he wants to do is curl up in his bed with him and sleep? Cater takes a breath before reaching Idia's door and by the time it opens again he's as bright and shiny as he can be. "Delivery!"

Initially seeing him at the computer makes him smile, glad that he's gotten out of bed. He looks like he's deep into some kind of project so Cater hesitates to bother him too much, but sets down the bowls of rice and soup in a safe spot nearby.

Idia looks back over his shoulder, clearly tired but calm in that blank sort of I’m coping by not thinking about it way. “Thanks, Cay. And… you don’t have to pretend. I know you’re buggy too.” He sighs and turns back to his code-filled screens. “Almost done. Gotta beta this before you’re done classes today.”

His fingers fly for a moment, then still. His shoulders rise and fall in a silent deep breath. “Hug? Please?” He wants one more before he risks burning everything down. He can eat later, even if it’s all cold.

"Wow, a rush job, huh?" Cater's about to back up and give Idia the space he needs to finish his project when he makes his request. His expression softens, and he more than happily slides his arms around Idia from the side of his gaming chair, resting his chin on the top of his head. He doesn't connect that what Idia's working on is meant for him. He's not operating at his best, and it's not like he can even imagine what's being made.

Squeezing Idia tightly before his arms loosen into a more relaxed embrace, his eyes close heavily and he lets out a heavy breath. "I wish I could just stay in here with you. Falling asleep to the sound of your fingers on the keyboard sounds soooo nice..."

Idia closes his eyes too, sagging into Cater's embrace. He'd be more relaxed if his project wasn't looming over him like a guillotine blade. Thankfully Cater can't read the complex code, otherwise this would be even more awkward. He's just so tired, but he'll be done soon.

"I...." He swallows. "I wish you could stay, too. But Riddle will crit you into a game over if you cut class."

The Heartslabyul Housewarden is a thorn rather than a rose more often than Idia would like. They already have so little time left before senior year and then graduation, plus Cater is running himself ragged trying to keep Riddle from exploding over curfew violations. How can Idia be worth all this?

"I'm sorry I ruined your sleep cycle. You feel like total crud, I can tell. Do you want to take a power nap for the rest of lunch, I'll wake you up in time for class?"

Cater hums thoughtfully, leaning forward to plant his lips on Idia's forehead. "It's okay, really, it happens. I'm not going to be out of commission over one night of little sleep--and besides, I've pulled all-nighters before for worse reasons."

Back in his partying days, that was. Not that they were really all that long ago, but it feels like it was. He's so over all of that noise. "You wouldn't mind? I don't want to throw you off more if you're focusing, but I'm not really hungry, anyway."

"You won't throw me off. I can focus better if I know you're resting, since you'll recharge a bit." Cater's presence nearby but without him hovering curiously really will help Idia work, as long as he doesn't give in to the temptation to say screw the project in favor of cuddling up for a nap himself. The feeling of that kiss lingers on his forehead, giving him an unexpected clarity. He has to do this, even if he hates it. "How long do you need to wake up to get back to class? Ten? Fifteen?"

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