Cater takes a breath and pulls up his messages with Trey, sending him a brief SOS: Emergency with Idia. Cover me if you can. Won't be back tonight. Without waiting for a response, he tucks his phone away and heads out the window. It's not curfew so he doesn't need to hurry or be incredibly stealthy, but he doesn't want any of his dormmates to know that he's not in his room studying. Ultimately, if anyone catches him he can just claim to be a split card out on errands, so he doesn't try too hard to stay out of sight.
Up until he reaches Idia's room, he tries to figure out what he's going to do...but he doesn't know. Cater struggles to play out scenarios in his head, but his exhaustion and his nerves keep him from being able to form any kind of realistic narrative. Before he knows it, he's standing at Idia's door, moving to open it on instinct.
There's no mask in place, this time. Cater's face is flatlined and serious.
It doesn't matter if Idia is sitting or standing or where he's placed himself in the room. As soon as Cater sees that lanky, emotionally strung-out teenager, all his questions and confusion and indecisiveness shuts itself out. His feet move of their own accord, bringing him up Idia, and his hands follow suit, taking him by the shoulders and pulling him into a tight embrace.
Idia's pacing when he hears the door open. The sound makes him visibly flinch, as if he's expecting to be struck. He turns, only to gasp and blink as Cater yanks him into a hug.
That's... not what he was expecting.
As they stand there, Idia feels his eyes well up. His lip trembles. Slowly he raises his arms to loosely encircle Cater, and only then does he crumble. He all but crushes his boyfriend to his chest, leaning down to sob on Cater's shoulder.
How can it be possible? He's been accepted, selfishness and all.
Cater plants himself firmly as Idia's weight falls into him, holding him even more tightly. His hands ball into fists in his boyfriend's sweater, clutching him as if he's trying to ground him firmly in reality. For a long time he just stands like that, being his anchor as Idia sobs.
In the end, regardless of the subtext, regardless of the horror, a nightmare is just a nightmare, and the past is in the past. Idia was working so, so damn hard to be better and this was just another bump in the road. What counts, what really means the most, is what he's doing now: how he's trying to atone for his sins, whether or not they're self-prescribed.
"You are not your demons, Idia Shroud," he finally murmurs into his ear. "But I love you, demons and all."
Relief. Such overwhelming, pure relief that he's still wanted, still loved, has Idia sobbing even harder. Whatever disgust Cater might feel from what he saw, it's not enough to overpower their bond. He clings even as his knees give way, pulling Cater with him to the floor.
His head hurts and he's beyond exhausted, but it's okay. He hasn't lost Cater. Now he can truly start to heal.
Although he doesn't have any smiles to offer, now isn't the time for them, anyway. An upbeat attitude isn't what this situation calls for, even if it marks an ultimately positive change for them. As they reach the floor, Cater shifts his position to cradle Idia much like he had the night before, holding him and petting him and rocking him gently.
If he wasn't sure of it before, he knows it now: he'll do anything in his power to protect his boyfriend from the horrors he's been immersed in. Idia was already climbing his way up out of the pit he'd fallen down into, but his body was tired and his mind broken. He just needed a hand to grab onto, to help him the rest of the way. Cater wanted to be that hand. Idia had suffered more than enough. More than he ever should have.
He figures it goes without saying that he's not leaving Idia's dorm tonight.
They can worry about curfew and Riddle and rumors and all of that later. Right now they need each other. Idia isn't the only one who has to heal from trauma, nor does he want to debate whose is worse. He hasn't cried like this in a long time, and now twice in less than 24 hours has left him feeling wrung out and almost feverish. Curling up together in bed would be wonderful, but Idia's not sure he has the energy to get back up and he aches all over. It's clear that he ate at some point, the empty dishes stacked on a corner of his desk, but the lack of good sleep has them both in a less than ideal state.
At least he calms down eventually, sagging against Cater a little too heavily to be comfortable. Twiggy as he is, he's still taller than his boyfriend, ensuring that outright carrying him to bed will be all but impossible even if Cater wasn't equally exhausted. Sleeping on the floor will prevent healing rest, however. For now, Idia has more immediate concerns.
"'m sorry for trauma dumping on you when you're out of stamina. Really crappy of me, but... if I didn't get it out, it would've been psychic DoT. Probably a party-wide debuff, not single-target."
Cater shakes his head, making a sound to acknowledge that he heard what Idia said. "I'm glad you shared," he assures. "You needed to let it out--and I want you to know that I'm someone you can share these things with."
Hopefully now Idia can have more faith in the idea that Cater won't run away or get scared off. Maybe after they've had more sleep, they can talk about it a bit more thoroughly. He can't pretend it didn't disturb him, even if that feeling isn't something that he's holding against Idia. It was hard, really hard, to watch all of that--but that only means he can only imagine how awful it felt to have experienced it firsthand.
Idia shakes his head. “You know all my worst ones now.” He has nothing left to shock Cater. If they’ve survived this, then they have a chance… at least until senior year. Idia will take what he can get.
For now, he struggles to get up. “Bed. Tired. Wanna cuddle.” He might sleep for the rest of the afternoon and through the night.
With a huff of air, Cater stands, definitely feeling a bit more sure footed than Idia. Once he's on his own feet he helps Idia to his. "Me too," he agrees, not willing to even bother taking anything off other than his shoes until they're safely in one another's arms. "You pick spot preference, this time."
Without moving away from Idia, he pulls his phone and wand out of his uniform and tosses them onto the nearest safe surface out of the way. Whatever happens tomorrow, happens tomorrow, and no amount of annoyed texts can change where he's staying tonight.
“Cuddle, no spoons.” He wants to hold and be held. Every second that ticks by sees him wobbling more, shuffling along until he finally sits heavily on the edge of the bed. Getting his legs up is a struggle but he does it so Cater won’t have to. A couple of awkward scoots and he flops back onto the pillows hard enough that it sounds rather painful.
It’s so tempting to fall asleep right away. But he forces himself to stay awake long enough to hold out a beckoning arm. He wants his Cater.
Cater assents without words, crawling eagerly into Idia's arms and tangling their limbs together. Once they're comfortable, he presses in for a sweet, soft kiss, resting so close to his face that the two are nearly nose to nose. "Tomorrow is a new day," he tells him in a whisper. "When you wake up, I'll still be right here."
Idia nods, huddling up so he can bury his face against Cater’s neck. Bed, cuddles, Cater. Things are already starting to feel much better. Anything beyond them and this bed would be tomorrow’s problem. Even the nightmare seems like a distant, retreating storm. It’s probably the extraordinary fatigue and stress crash, but he asks one soft question against his better judgment. He has to have hope.
"Always," he murmurs back, finding Idia's pinky with one of his own and curling them around each other. "There's nowhere else I ever want to be."
If Cater could get away with not sleeping, he'd just gaze into Idia's eyes for hours and hours. As the more intense of his emotions continue fading, however, the more physically exhausted he feels. It's betraying the both of them, forcing them to separate unconsciously before they're ready to.
All he can do is keep his word. In the morning, he'll be there. Come hell or high water, come Riddle Rosenhearts or Dire Crowley, Jupiter or Shroud.
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Cater takes a breath and pulls up his messages with Trey, sending him a brief SOS: Emergency with Idia. Cover me if you can. Won't be back tonight. Without waiting for a response, he tucks his phone away and heads out the window. It's not curfew so he doesn't need to hurry or be incredibly stealthy, but he doesn't want any of his dormmates to know that he's not in his room studying. Ultimately, if anyone catches him he can just claim to be a split card out on errands, so he doesn't try too hard to stay out of sight.
Up until he reaches Idia's room, he tries to figure out what he's going to do...but he doesn't know. Cater struggles to play out scenarios in his head, but his exhaustion and his nerves keep him from being able to form any kind of realistic narrative. Before he knows it, he's standing at Idia's door, moving to open it on instinct.
There's no mask in place, this time. Cater's face is flatlined and serious.
It doesn't matter if Idia is sitting or standing or where he's placed himself in the room. As soon as Cater sees that lanky, emotionally strung-out teenager, all his questions and confusion and indecisiveness shuts itself out. His feet move of their own accord, bringing him up Idia, and his hands follow suit, taking him by the shoulders and pulling him into a tight embrace.
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That's... not what he was expecting.
As they stand there, Idia feels his eyes well up. His lip trembles. Slowly he raises his arms to loosely encircle Cater, and only then does he crumble. He all but crushes his boyfriend to his chest, leaning down to sob on Cater's shoulder.
How can it be possible? He's been accepted, selfishness and all.
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In the end, regardless of the subtext, regardless of the horror, a nightmare is just a nightmare, and the past is in the past. Idia was working so, so damn hard to be better and this was just another bump in the road. What counts, what really means the most, is what he's doing now: how he's trying to atone for his sins, whether or not they're self-prescribed.
"You are not your demons, Idia Shroud," he finally murmurs into his ear. "But I love you, demons and all."
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His head hurts and he's beyond exhausted, but it's okay. He hasn't lost Cater. Now he can truly start to heal.
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If he wasn't sure of it before, he knows it now: he'll do anything in his power to protect his boyfriend from the horrors he's been immersed in. Idia was already climbing his way up out of the pit he'd fallen down into, but his body was tired and his mind broken. He just needed a hand to grab onto, to help him the rest of the way. Cater wanted to be that hand. Idia had suffered more than enough. More than he ever should have.
He figures it goes without saying that he's not leaving Idia's dorm tonight.
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At least he calms down eventually, sagging against Cater a little too heavily to be comfortable. Twiggy as he is, he's still taller than his boyfriend, ensuring that outright carrying him to bed will be all but impossible even if Cater wasn't equally exhausted. Sleeping on the floor will prevent healing rest, however. For now, Idia has more immediate concerns.
"'m sorry for trauma dumping on you when you're out of stamina. Really crappy of me, but... if I didn't get it out, it would've been psychic DoT. Probably a party-wide debuff, not single-target."
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Hopefully now Idia can have more faith in the idea that Cater won't run away or get scared off. Maybe after they've had more sleep, they can talk about it a bit more thoroughly. He can't pretend it didn't disturb him, even if that feeling isn't something that he's holding against Idia. It was hard, really hard, to watch all of that--but that only means he can only imagine how awful it felt to have experienced it firsthand.
"No more secrets from either of us, yeah?"
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For now, he struggles to get up. “Bed. Tired. Wanna cuddle.” He might sleep for the rest of the afternoon and through the night.
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Without moving away from Idia, he pulls his phone and wand out of his uniform and tosses them onto the nearest safe surface out of the way. Whatever happens tomorrow, happens tomorrow, and no amount of annoyed texts can change where he's staying tonight.
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It’s so tempting to fall asleep right away. But he forces himself to stay awake long enough to hold out a beckoning arm. He wants his Cater.
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“Always…?”
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If Cater could get away with not sleeping, he'd just gaze into Idia's eyes for hours and hours. As the more intense of his emotions continue fading, however, the more physically exhausted he feels. It's betraying the both of them, forcing them to separate unconsciously before they're ready to.
All he can do is keep his word. In the morning, he'll be there. Come hell or high water, come Riddle Rosenhearts or Dire Crowley, Jupiter or Shroud.