mayfield_logs | because we can't have nice things ever

Entry tags:

because we can't have nice things ever

Who: Caesar and Garviel, then Caesar, Millie, Sealand, and so on.
What: ITP: Caesar can't resist getting in one last 'I told you so' before dying again, Garviel has to keep talking to people just before they get axed, and Mayfield traumatizes even more children; so same old, same old.
Where: 2237 Stevens garage and later outside the Goldberg St. house.
When: Sometime during the 25th, well after Virginia's injuries.
Warnings: Blood and death.

[Caesar would have been more than content to remain home much earlier today, to avoid the phones seething with either anger or repetitive calls for calm and whatever foolishness might come out of it all. At least, he'd been content, before some inexplicable force tore Virginia's arm off and threw her violently through a window. Whatever that had been, it had been enough to waken some cold anger in even someone as prone to being level-headed as he was. If there had ever been someone he could rely on to watch his back, who had been doing that since he got dumped in this little slice of hell, it had been her, and there wasn't any way he could get back at the real culprit of her suffering...

But he did happen to know someone else who could at least share in the blame, even if only a little, and that's what brings Caesar to stop at the driveway of 2237 Stevens Road. The slog through the snow and winter chill has, at least, calmed him down enough that he doesn't go storming up to the house like an idiot, but it's not like he'd thought of any other approach before actually getting here. Without that...

Huh. Now what?]

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[Sealand knows what Caesar is referring to, although he doesn't understand how the injuries are coming back now. He kicked France in the shin for that, because Caesar had agreed to be his citizen and France had killed him.

Caesar, as far as Sealand is concerned, is still his citizen. He absolutely has to protect him. Somehow. He shifts to try and support Caesar as well, as much as he can.]

W-we'll get you inside and then we'll fix you and it'll be okay, okay?

Yeah, yeah! Y-you don't have to worry, okay!!

[ Millie didn't know. All she knew was the state that Caesar was in now and his words. This time she listened to them, maybe something that would amaze Caesar under different circumstances. Along with Sealand she would help to get him along to his home. Millie knew where to go and how to get there. ]

No. [He knows this won't be superficial enough to just slap a few bandages on and call it a day and he isn't going to let them believe this is anything other than futile.] Once you get me there, you're going to take Millie home. Immediately.

[With their help, they're making better time. The house isn't too far now.]

What about you? We can't just leave you alone. I could take her home after...

[After he's okay. Caesar has to be okay. They'll make him okay, and then Sealand can take Millie home and everything will be fine because it has to be.]

What!? No one's taking Millie home!

[ She stopped walking, but kept hold of Caesar. She looked at them both angrily at trying to exclude her. ] Millie's staying with Caesar!

Take her home after I die messily all over the living room? No. Millie, you can't stay with me. Peter. [Ugh. When did he start acting so serious? To hell with this town.] You will take her home.

[Once he realizes they've stopped again, thanks to Millie, he sighs and pushes away from her, as well as from Sealand. He'll stagger onward all on his own if he must. He makes it a fair enough distance, too! He reaches the beginning of the sidewalk up to the house before another fit of coughing takes him. The pain in his chest blossoms with it, too sudden, and he falls to his knees.]

[Sealand runs to where Caesar fell, trying to pick him back up on his own. Terrified, he defaults to what he knows at home. Sealand is a micronation, and he was born a fort besides.]

A-are you ordering me to? I-I'll do it if it's an order, but you need to be inside first. Okay?

[Sealand fights back tears, because that's not really very mature of a reaction at all, he's sure of it.]

[ Once Caesar begins to move again and Sealand follows him, Millie's not far behind, catching up in little time. ]

You're not taking me home! I won't let you! [ Though she doesn't see Sealand's own expression, she feels her own emotions welling up instead. Confusion, fear, frustration. Her face had turned red at the cheeks. She takes hold of Caesar's arm, to help him back up. ] Millie's going to help and stay! I can carry Caesar all by myself!

[An order? If it has to be. He needs to stop coughing up blood before he can answer, however, which takes a bit. Either Sealand or Millie are in danger of getting some of that on them if they aren't careful. It's already staining the snow and ice around them...

And the front of his shirt isn't faring too well, but that can't possibly be from what's been coughed up. It looks more like something under it has caused a stain to start creeping across the fabric.]

...hgh... fine... an order. [Caesar finally manages to say that much and struggles to get back up with their help.] Almost there...

[Sealand sniffles, swallows a sob, but doesn't say anything more. He'll follow Caesar's orders, because that's what countries do, they do what their citizens want, and forts do what their commanders tell them, even if he doesn't want to. Caesar's blood on his arm only makes him even more frightened, but he tries not to show it. He isn't doing a very good job.]

W-we're almost inside. Y-you'll... You'll be okay.

[But Sealand is watching the blood stain his shirt and he can't find it in himself to believe what he's saying anymore.]

[ Millie's unable to see the blood that starts staining through the front of Caesar's clothing from her position and where she's more concentrated on, but she does see what comes out of his mouth by how it splattered. Parts end up on the arm of her jumper, but she doesn't say anything on it. She just has to get him inside...! ]

[Figures. The only person in this entire town who will actually take orders from him is the smallest nation ever. He won't bother saying anything more now, not as they cover the final stretch to the front door. Once up there, he'll fumble with the handle and shove it open.

At least he made it inside this time around...]

[Sealand stumbles a little as the door opens abruptly, but doesn't quite fall, instead looking around the house as if he's never seen it before, even though they're all the same inside.]

U-Um, we should put him on--the couch, or something...

[That would be more comfortable than the floor, at least.]

O-okay.

[ Millie wasn't about to let him go just at the doorway anyway. Part of ehr was glad though that Sealand didn't bring up about the apparent order to send her away - an order that she wasn't willing to let the young nation go through with, so all the better if they forgot about it. ]

Come on, Caeesar, just this way...! [ And so, Millie will turn to take Caesar towards the couch in the house... ]

[Balin's changed back into his physical training uniform and has been busy cleaning his AFS-issued service pistol, sitting on one of the other chairs in the living room. It looks like he's "regained" a few wounds himself, judging by the dressing and bruises visible on some parts of his skin ...]

[At first, Balin thought it was just Caesar at the door when he heard the door open, and didn't look up from doing a final examination of the pistol after having reassembled it, pulling the slide back a few times and dry-firing the pistol at the floor between his feet to make sure it's all working correctly.]

Yo—

[... but at the sound of Sealand and Millie entering the house, he looks up. Seeing that they're carrying a bleeding Caesar, he immediately stands up, holstering his pistol in one swift motion.]

—oh shit, him too?

[He's crossing the distance to help the two with getting Caesar to the couch.]

Hey...

[Hello, Balin. The living room is about to get bled all over. Caesar more or less gives up on trying to get to the couch under any of his own power once Balin steps in to help out Sealand and Millie.

Once there, he'll opt to be sitting rather than laid out on the couch like a damn corpse, and rests his head back against the back cushion. The red stain on his shirt is only darkening and his breathing doesn't sound too well off anymore.]

...ha... ha. [Yeah, he'll laugh if he wants to.] Does this even... count as a second... death? If it's the... same one?

[Sealand squirms a bit--he knows what Caesar told him to do, but that doesn't mean he wants to do it. It was an order, though, and Caesar was basically his citizen, as far as Sealand was concerned, so it wasn't as if he could just ignore it. He's hoping Millie will protest enough for Caesar to change his mind, though, even as he's hoping he'll be able to do what Caesar wanted.

He looks at Millie.]

U-um, he said I have to walk you home now...

N-no!

[ From Caesar's talk of death and Sealand's words, Millie's emotions had had enough. The single word came out shakey as her throat turned hard, tears now coming from her eyes, and she went from just standing and watching Caesar to down beside the arm of the couch he was most closest to and gripping the arm of his shirt. ]

M-Millie's st-staying!

[ She looked straight at Sealand as she said those words, as if kneeling there would be enough to stop anyone from moving her. Not that she thought from the thoughts that Sealand could move her, but any attempt to have her go while Caesar was in this state was upsetting for her.

But her words weren't all for him. She turned to Caesar, took a firm hold of his arm and shook it a little. ]

Y-you're not dying, Caesar, y-you can't... y-you're just teasing M-Millie, 'c-cause you said, nothing stays bad forever. N-nothing!

[ Despite the blood that was there obvious for all the see, Millie didn't want to accept his words or the reality of the situation. She wouldn't believe any talk of death, no first, not second. She refused to.

But even if she did, that didn't make her tears come out any less, her breathing rattled as she had to somehow find breath before her crying interrupted her. ]

Same one—

[Not paying attention to Sealand and Millie for the moment, instead he pulls of Caesar's shirt to look at the wound more clearly. He looks grim.]

[Whoa, major personal space invasion. Even dying, he finds the energy to try and weakly push Balin away, though what of the wound could be seen wasn't very promising. Definitely a gunshot wound.]

...yeah. [His attention turns sluggishly towards Millie again. Why couldn't she just listen for once? He isn't going to argue for her and Sealand to leave anymore. They won't. How stupid.] You're right. I'll probably be back... eventually. So cut that out... all that crying... it's so useless...

[ hey there Caesar bod (evilgrin) -- not that Millie's at the right angle to see it anyway. Or wants to see it. Right, sorry, serious log. ]

D-do you promise? [ His words, though maybe giving the most faintest of optimism to her (if it could be even heard), didn't stop the tears any less. Millie of course couldn't just stop - but even if she could, would she?

Already holding onto his hand, Millie brought a hand down to his and lifted it up. She then put her pinkie finger to his, wrapping it as tight as a little pinkie finger could. ] P-pro-- promise!

[Sealand winces at the wound, but as soon as Caesar relents on taking Millie home he climbs up onto the couch beside him. He has no idea what to do about a gunshot wound, aside from bandaging it up and probably taking the bullet out. Is there even a bullet in there? He looks at Balin.]

C-can you fix him?

[Balin's undaunted by Caesar trying to brush his hand away, but it only takes a few seconds for him to get a good idea of just where Caesar's been shot. Balin's grim expression doesn't change, even as he stands back and shakes his head in response to Sealand's question.]

I ain't a medic, an' first aid ain't gonna do much but buy'em some more time.

[Either Tsunade or Lucas; hopefully both of them can be reached before Caesar's beyond help. Balin briskly turns and heads over to the phone.]

I'm gonna try an' get ahold of someone who can. Try an' keep'at wound closed. By hand if you gotta.

[don't be a creeper, Millie, so ruining the seriousness.]

Promise it? I can't do that. [If only he had the energy left to wave her hand away from his, too, he would. He really would.] I don't even know if... I'm right...

[Despite how often he claims to always be right, he can't make that guess here. The machine that revived people is long gone and he doubts anyone is doing a whole lot to fix it.]

Promise!

[ The word is said sharply and with demand that Millie ever uses. She looks cross now, an expression that she took soon after Caesar's words to her request. She kept her finger around his and her other hand, as if knowing how Caesar would be if he had any extra energy, took a grip of his own hand to keep it up.

His word was all she needed and all she wanted right then, even if in a way it would mean having to believe that Caesar would...

... no. No, it didn't have to mean that. If only Caesar would let her believe he would be back, she didn't have to accept anything else. ]

because we can't have nice things ever

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Got the green light to tag in!

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