actual worst person caesar silverberg (
commentboxtroll) wrote in
mayfield_logs2012-03-11 04:40 pm
Entry tags:
home is the place, where, when you have to go there
Who: The residents of 847 Goldberg St.
What: Caesar's back for good after nearly four weeks of avoiding his housemates.
Where: 847 Goldberg
When: 3/11, late night.
Warnings: gettin' yelled at?
Nearly twenty-five days of avoiding this place the best he could. It had been a bit of work to do, with the constant threat of droning hanging over his head, but Caesar had gotten the pattern for avoiding those consequences down. Three hours every third day wasn't difficult when you knew the schedules of the people you wanted to avoid. For the most part, he would sneak in during the hours that Balin and Virginia would have already gone to sleep. There had always been signs of his coming and going: his cat, Bonaparte the Second, would always have fresh water and food in her bowls and the litter box checked up on, as well as someone having looked in on and taking care of a few things in the stables now and then. Objects in his own room would have been moved, the door left open when it should have been closed, food missing from the fridge on occasion, were common enough, too, but he never stayed long enough to be caught.
Nearly twenty-five days. That was all they were getting, because Caesar was finally tired of having to rely on friends and allies to let him crash around. He couldn't impose forever! So, following the routine he had found himself falling into, it wasn't until late into the night that the door opened and he walked in as quietly as he could. There was a pause to hang his coat up and tug his boots off before he closed the door behind him.
The cat was there immediately to greet him. She had gotten used to him skulking on in this late and giving her some extra food! It only made sense for her to stake out his appearances and that didn't surprise him, but did she have to meow so much over it?
"...at least someone misses me." Caesar crouched down to give the cat a scratch behind the ears. "Cut that out. You're going to wake up everyone."
What: Caesar's back for good after nearly four weeks of avoiding his housemates.
Where: 847 Goldberg
When: 3/11, late night.
Warnings: gettin' yelled at?
Nearly twenty-five days of avoiding this place the best he could. It had been a bit of work to do, with the constant threat of droning hanging over his head, but Caesar had gotten the pattern for avoiding those consequences down. Three hours every third day wasn't difficult when you knew the schedules of the people you wanted to avoid. For the most part, he would sneak in during the hours that Balin and Virginia would have already gone to sleep. There had always been signs of his coming and going: his cat, Bonaparte the Second, would always have fresh water and food in her bowls and the litter box checked up on, as well as someone having looked in on and taking care of a few things in the stables now and then. Objects in his own room would have been moved, the door left open when it should have been closed, food missing from the fridge on occasion, were common enough, too, but he never stayed long enough to be caught.
Nearly twenty-five days. That was all they were getting, because Caesar was finally tired of having to rely on friends and allies to let him crash around. He couldn't impose forever! So, following the routine he had found himself falling into, it wasn't until late into the night that the door opened and he walked in as quietly as he could. There was a pause to hang his coat up and tug his boots off before he closed the door behind him.
The cat was there immediately to greet him. She had gotten used to him skulking on in this late and giving her some extra food! It only made sense for her to stake out his appearances and that didn't surprise him, but did she have to meow so much over it?
"...at least someone misses me." Caesar crouched down to give the cat a scratch behind the ears. "Cut that out. You're going to wake up everyone."

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"Welcome back..."
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"...thanks." Followed by another, though shorter, awkward pause before he added, "Couldn't sleep?"
Well, there hadn't been a hope of finding something clever to kick the conversation off with anyway.
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"You can sit down if you want. I mean... I won't make you talk about anything you don't want to, but... I did miss you."
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Caesar gave the cat one last scritch under her chin and finally stood back up. Well, he wasn't going to hurry on by if she wasn't going to yell at him. He left the hall behind and found the couch cushion farthest away from Virginia to sprawl out on.
"I don't know if there's even much to talk about," he said, shrugging, "It's just... stuff. That happened. So, does that mean I can stay after all?"
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It almost seemed like she was confirming it more for herself.
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Sometimes he wondered.
"I don't know. Isn't it part of the trap to start calling this place 'home'?"
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"I'll be eighteen in the summer. You know they're going to move me when that happens."
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"... Caesar... about the last thing we talked about... I keep telling myself it wasn't you, but... These nightmares, lately. What keeps happening is that... what I see is you in danger... and because I'm like this, I can't protect you. It's a real fear. Because I care about you. You're as much a partner to me as my teammates were back home. And I'll admit, the idea of you being moved makes this fear more real, but..."
She didn't even know what she was trying to say any longer, letting out a frustrate sigh.
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He stirred from staring upwards and looked at Virginia, putting his own worries aside to puzzle over hers instead. Nightmares? About him?
"They're only dreams, Ginny. I'm in about as much danger as everyone else here is, not more." Still, he sat up straighter and frowned. "Because you're like... what? You can't mean your back. It's been weeks! That must have healed by now."
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"But... I'm gonna get better. That much I have faith in. Every day I can walk just a little better. I'm gardening again. I can ride on Quicksilver without pain. I just... need to get over these fears. And... having you around helps. So I guess I'm saying is that I don't want you to go away."
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Of course he focused on the negative. He had no idea how to react to the rest. Was he supposed to ask about her fears? Or be flattered that she wanted him around?
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"When you talk like that... that's what makes me afraid. What makes me feel weak... So... please... don't. Let me have my hope."
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That was where they were hitting a wall. Hope wasn't a good stand-in for action!
"It isn't weak to find someone who can help you, you know..." He fell into an uncomfortable silence immediately after saying that and watched her with some wariness before finally pushing himself to ask, "Why would any of that scare you? I mean, it's common sense."
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Like he was one to call her on that. Caesar had his moments; he was just as guilty of it.
"What do you even expect to get out of this?"
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"... But... We are a team on this. And if you think there's something that can be done, then I'm gonna listen. Just... don't treat me like I need to be protected, okay? I just hate how it feels."
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"It isn't even about protecting anyone. You're better at that than I'll ever be! This is just doing the smart thing. Of course we can find someone to do something, there's even been a whole list of healers with those papers I keep by the phone this entire time..."
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He gave an annoyed huff rather than a sigh before moving over one cushion to sit next to Virginia instead.
"I'm sorry, alright?"
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"It's... well, it isn't okay, but it isn't your fault, either. You don't have anything to apologize for."
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She nodded, sniffling back some tears.
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The sound of sniffles did get a sudden stiffening of his shoulders, though. Oh no, was she going to cry? How did you handle crying people? What did people usually do?! He had enough sense not to move away, so that was covered.
With some reluctance, he moved an arm around her to return the hug the best he could. Still a little awkward, but! This wasn't something he did often, okay?