mayfield_logs | Beheading is a family tradition

Cain doesn't have to look far.

The moment he's bolting upright and stumbling out of the bedsheets, barely able to collect his head enough to deduce what had inevitably happened, Abel's little brother is being pulled into a pair of familiar solid arms. Lifted right off his feet, he's tucked into a firm and immediate hug... close, and tight. Protective, possessive... something he should recognize for what it was without having to see who had been waiting for him.

He doesn't say a thing -- he doesn't need to, does he? The only thing he has to offer his younger twin was this: the promise that he would always have something to come back to. He's ducking his head, trying to gather him closer still even if it was thoroughly impossible. The apology and guilt and grief is palpable. If there was to be any punishment for his failure, it's clear that he's been trying to exact it upon himself ever since the day his brother had--

...

...Abel has been over this time and time again in his head. It wasn't much different than what transpired during the events of the 'surgeries,' months ago... he was unable to do little more than wait, wait for what he couldn't fight, what he couldn't seem to stop from hurting Cain to relent. And like then, the only thing he has when all is said and done is this. A simple hug, an apology he's had to offer far too many times for failures he prayed so desperately he would never have to repeat. But he had...

...You d... ied, Cain... he is so sorry-- so... sorry. They took you away. Took you away, right in front of his eyes. He did nothing but watch you disappear.

He should have known Abel would be right there within the second he awoke, but he cannot deny the relief he feels when it comes to pass. He is terrified Abel had died as well, that Charles' prediction had come true and everyone had died eventually. Perhaps that had been what had reset the place to the Mayfield they all knew, or... Well, Abel had never been the most stable when his brother was threatened, even now he was still somewhat that boy deep down, he is frightened that Abel would have self-destructed.

...He knew he had. He wouldn't have blamed Abel if he had gone that route, Cain had hardly held onto his sanity or reason well after the shoe had been on the other foot. The air feels thick and cloying, full of tension of guilt and grief, and it hurts to breathe properly.

Winding his arms as tightly as he can around his brother in return, his fingers curled so rigidly in his shirt that his knuckles went pure white, face buried in his chest.

"...sorry."

He never should have stepped away from his brother, he never wanted to let him go through that grief.

"Don't."

Apologizing? Cain's... apologizing, for losing his life? It had been taken from him by no fault of his own; there had been no way for him to know that this would happen. No warning... no precursor or ceremony -- just a glimmer in the air, a hazy, not-right bright light, then--

His grip on him gets tighter, and he sinks to sit in the chair he'd pulled up beside the bed to wait. The position is too familiar. He's tired of it -- tired of all of this already. He's seen enough, too much, of a small boy's suffering in this wretched, disgusting town to last a lifetime -- and his lifetime has been impressively long at that. He doesn't want his little brother to possess the memories of being tortured and manipulated, hurt and beaten down. Cain is supposed to be happy.

He's supposed to be happy...

He draws his brother into his lap and against his chest, close as they can manage to get and he shakes his head. Don't you dare apologize. If there's any fault here, it definitely isn't yours... and it never, ever will be. Just... stay here, where it's safe. He made sure he was here so you could cry and ache and tremble, be afraid and need security, or howl if you need to. Whatever it is...

Whatever will make you feel better -- whatever he can do, he's... here, so--

What he wants to do is find the person responsible for all of this and make them understand just what a giant mistake they had made. He wants to howl at the injustice of how easily their lives could be toyed with here, worse than back home. At least there they had the assurance that they were valuable assets, they were rarely hurt for no reason and extremely scarcely past something they could work through. Here their lives were cheap and easy to discard, and not a single one of Cain's carefully laid plans ever seemed to help.

He cannot stand to feel his brother's pain. Even with how long they have been here, there is a part of himself that will always think he is the elder, and that part instinctively needs to soothe this hurt. He wants to be the one to take Abel in his arms like this, to hold him and reassure him, and to make it better.

So he does the best he can, standing up on Abel's lap to give him the height to wind his arms around his neck instead, pressing forehead to forehead and looking into identical eyes. He's sorry... not for dying, he knows that wasn't his fault, he's just sorry Abel had to feel this at all.

Cain...

Abel's chest pangs violently in response to the gesture -- even now, after everything that had happened... it was his little brother who was trying to comfort him rather than being comforted. He lifts his eyes to look into a much younger mirror of them staring right back at him--

...

Don't you see--? At a time like this... even after you've suffered, lost... even after you felt all your security, your safety, and your very life stolen out from under you, Cain -- you're still... stronger. You're still stronger at ten years old than your little brother was then and is now centuries later. He can't protect you, and even being solid for you to draw reassurance from seems a task he's failed to complete. He was a coward who ran from facing what had happened, while you try your hardest as a mere child to soothe his pain.

He drops his gaze, tucking his little brother to his shoulder and winding his arms around him in a tight squeeze. He doesn't know what to do -- where they go from here, Cain. Abel hasn't floundered like this in a very, very long time. His sense of purpose has been obscured, somewhere along the way to wherever they are now. He is afraid he's going to lose his little brother for good again, and there will be nothing he can do about it. That even if he manages to preserve his body, his mind will be worn down by enduring the nightmares of this hellhole month after month. Even if he's brought back... even if he's repaired -- each of these failures to protect him from all the things that go bump in the night means Cain will bear scars... scars no kid should ever have to suffer.

...Worst of it, is he has no idea how on earth to stop any of it at all.

Abel is much stronger than Cain in so many ways... when it comes down to it, Abel had been strong enough to realise he was wrong about the world (even if it took a tragedy to do so), which is a lesson Cain will never learn.

He can't blame Abel for failing to protect him here, it wasn't his fault. No matter what he did, even his precious little brother couldn't protect him from a town that could literally bend reality. There hadn't been time to react in the carnival, even Cain hadn't seen death coming for him before it had taken his head clean off his shoulders.

Leaning against his brother, taking comfort in being held and holding on tight, he ducked his head to nestle his nose into Abel's shoulder. He had to get them out of here, and he had to do it soon. He couldn't just watch this happen again, he had to step up his efforts, put more dedication into his plans and network of informants (or friends, whatever).

"...not your fault, Abel."

He knows what you're thinking, brother, and he won't have it. If he hadn't even had enough time to register danger, Abel certainly hadn't had enough time to intervene.

Of course he blames himself; masochistic guilt was the lone coping mechanism he's learned to use to deal with tragedy the likes of which threatened to ruin everything. If he believed he was at fault, then -- he could rationalize he had to keep going, deserved to suffer the pain for it... that everything that happened was penance and something he had earned. He could move forward, if only because he told himself he had no right to let himself falter no matter how badly it hurt. It gave things a sense of 'reason' where there really wasn't any at all.

It might not be the best way, but it was his way.

He nuzzles his brother in apologetic affection; Cain doesn't want him to be in pain and he absolutely loves him for it. He was always looking out for him, even as this... fragile little boy who could be so easily broken and beaten down, yet continued to pick himself back up regardless how many times it seemed he shouldn't. Cain persevered through so much... he deserved so much better than the terrible lot in life he'd gotten, but -- at the end of the day, and when all is said and done...

There really is nothing more that Abel can do to support him than this. Maybe 'being there' is it, the absolute most he could ever offer. It might eat at him to realize as much, but sometimes the truth, reality, was cruel. They knew that better than most.

"...don't worry."

Don't worry about the blame; don't worry about him. Right now... please -- for your sake and his, let yourself be the little kid you are. It's... okay.

It's not the entirely selfless and strong act that Abel thinks it is, Cain isn't quite so noble under the surface. He wants to comfort Abel not only because he loves his brother deeply, but because Abel is his rock and he needs him to be strong in order to keep his own sense of self in order. He needs Abel to bounce back, hard as that is, so that he can bury this too and move on.

He can't help but worry, no matter what Abel says. It's a sick pit in his stomach, a coldness that won't go away while he knows his brother is in pain. With his world being built so heavily on his twin, when things go askew it knocks everything in a domino effect, and he can't move on until that foundation is secure again.

Not to mention that focusing on Abel keeps him from having to deal with his own issues, he can push down the fact he died and fix his eyes on his brother's pain. He doesn't know how to deal with something like that, it's uncomfortable and confusing and incredibly painful... so he pretends.

"...I'll worry if I want to, I'm still the big brother."

The foundation was never steady to begin with, brother. Cain has no idea how sincerely skewed and unstable the man he relies on truly is, does he? It was losing Cain the first time that set him down this path -- losing him, losing Lilith... loss; loss is one thing Abel can't seem to stomach no matter how long it's been, no matter how hard he tries.

He would try to chuckle, any other time. Even if they both knew it was forced, knew it was all wrong and a lie, he would have tried.

Instead, he simply shakes his head. His throat is too tight to speak; he doesn't think he would know what to say if he could, regardless. All he knows with certainty is that none of this is right. From the moment his brother disappeared, and every moment since -- nothing has been as it should. Not a single thing at all.

Brother... it doesn't matter whether you're the elder or younger or-- anything at all, and it doesn't matter how strong or stubbornly resolved. You're just a child, and... you--

You died...

So, please... please. Please, just... grieve like the little boy in this terrible place you really are.

He can't.

While their lives back home hadn't been nearly as horrific as this, they were still hard enough that each of them had to develop coping mechanisms to get by. They aren't so easily discarded, not even when their effectiveness is called so keenly into question.

Whether he was being tested for endurance on the colony, or tested for amusement by Mrs. Johnson, it was nearly impossible for him to deal with it by showing how scared and hurt he was. He was Cain Knightlord, he was the epitome of what science could achieve, he wasn't a squalling and frightened child.

Even though deep down inside, he most certainly was...

Squeezing his arms tighter around Abel's neck when he doesn't reply, he silently begged him to be alright, to not be broken. He so very nearly was when Abel had d...ied last year. When he had been gone, Cain had lost his mind entirely, and it was only tenuously he had regained his stability when Abel returned. Even just to think of that time had him wanting to lash out and howl, and he was frightened Abel was... broken.

There's no need for concern. 'Broken' when it applies like this... there isn't any worry of that reality coming to pass. It stands to reason that he had 'broken' a long time ago, back when he lost his brother and then his soulmate all those many centuries past -- lost them somewhere that the dead don't return to life come morning. Whatever Abel has been, since -- he had already sunk to that low, horrible place... and he's found purpose enough to keep him from going back there ever again.

Not as long as there is still something left to do. ...Someone left to come back to, protect... and to fight for. Cain is still here with him... however fleeting and temporary their reunion might be, he is going to cling and struggle and claw for every single second of it possible.

Do you understand, Cain...? He can't be 'broken.' He doesn't deserve to wallow in pain or grief -- not ever again. He has to be your brother, and he has to make amends... he has to repent until the day he gives up the ghost for good. And if it were possible -- maybe long after, too.

Abel nuzzles him closer as he feels small arms squeeze; it breaks his heart to know that Cain is left in this... trap. This cycle of miserable torture and demeaning insignificance. Being expendable. Worthless in the eyes of their 'captors.' ...And there's nothing he can do. He can't make it better, and if his brother won't open up to release the pain, then...

...

The air feels oppressive, as though it's thickening like tar second by second, full of too much grief and guilt. He hates it, he wants it to stop. No, he needs it to stop before this geyser in his chest bursts and he can't hold it all back any more.

He has to be able to smile and laugh, even when things are horrible, it's part of who he is. Not just that, but it's part of his plans to surviving this place and getting free (see how well that's working out), he has to appear docile, harmless and acclimatised to the town, so that they'll underestimate him and maybe... just maybe...

Pulling back a little to look into his brother's face, he goes for a small smile, swallowing hard.

"...lets... go have breakfast."

Get back to normal. Please.

Abel lets his little brother pull back, if that's what he wanted... but if he wanted to pretend that everything was okay, then--

...That much might be something he finds harder than the rest.

There's no response. He doesn't look into his little brother's face, doesn't meet his gaze. He isn't willing to do this anymore, play into this... facade that things were alright at all when they were anything but. He knows what that has been doing to him, knows that things are not 'okay,' and that it would take time before either of them could so much as pretend it was. His little brother is just that -- little, a child who never should have been subjected to any of the things he was, both here and at home.

He won't accept the fake smiles, anymore... he isn't so much as making an effort to try for one himself. And if that much is true, then Cain should begin to see it, now.

...It's enough, now.

Cain's heart begins to beat a little faster when he sees that Abel isn't even slightly humouring him. Even if it was hard, his brother usually pulled a little smile to his lips, tried to push onwards just as much as Cain did.

Why not now?

He doesn't want that to change, he feels a knee-jerk anger at Abel for even trying to put a spanner in the works of pushing all this down, though it's born from a fear he will barely even admit to himself. When it comes down to it, he's not that different to his brother, they're both cowards.

"Abel?"

"You're scared, Cain."

It's a quiet murmur, soft, as he pulls his brother back toward his shoulder again to keep him protectively close. He tilts his cheek against a blonde head of hair, rubbing a hand soothingly down his back. He couldn't save him. He hadn't even been able to try. He'd stood there and watched, but Cain--

Cain had been ripped away, with his brother beside him. He can't lie and say that it hadn't seeped under his skin... like all the other trials of this town that had been much more cruel on his little brother than they had been on Abel. His little brother may be strong -- he may have learned long ago to adapt and adjust, but...

...It doesn't matter. No one is equipped for this. No one can simply shrug it all off and keep smiling as if it was acceptable or alright.

"So... be scared. Cry if you need to. You can shout, you can scream, or... anything you want. Anything you need. But you can't pretend that you're okay anymore."

He's sorry, brother. He's so sorry.

He doesn't want to hear this, he doesn't want Abel to push this, not for even a second more. He's in denial about just how frightened he is, because he doesn't know how to deal with the uncertainty of admitting his plans have fallen apart at the seams and things keep spiralling out of control.

Terrified isn't a strong enough word for it. It's rooted deep down, a need to believe in his abilities to get what he wanted if he just worked for it long enough. It was how he coped at home - what did it matter if they hurt him and his family, because one day he'd find a way to give them all the future of freedom that they dreamt of. Even knowing that he has died in his future, still a tool to the UNASF, he hasn't stopped hoping. He has to believe that he can take this knowledge away from here and somehow prevent it from happening, otherwise he'll go insane.

What's the point of it all if he's not going to get that future? What's the point in the pain and the fear and the violence? He needs to believe in himself, he needs to believe that if he just keeps moving forwards with a smile, then he'll get where he wants to be eventually.

If he admits that he failed here, if he admits that they've both failed in their time in this town, then it will all come tumbling down. If he can't cope with what Mayfield throws at him, how is he supposed to defeat it and get them to a new home? How is he supposed to stop his future coming to pass?

He's still in Abel's arms, stymied for what to say. Please don't push this, brother, not if you care about him.

He understands his sibling's all-encompassing need and desire to rationalize the pain away into a sense of purpose. Abel can absolutely grasp the 'why' of his situation without so much as a doubt...

And perhaps it's entirely hypocritical to ask what he's asking of his twin.

But Abel is asking none-the-less -- because he loves him. Because he can't stand to watch his little brother suffer and be in pain, yet be so frightened that he suffocates it all, unable to express it outwardly and letting it eat at him until there's nothing left of him inside at all, instead. What future would Cain have if it continued that way? ...What kind of brother would he be if he allowed that to happen?

He had made too many grave and final mistakes, once. Abel had already failed him back in their world. Not once had his other half ever truly and whole-heartedly opened up to him... and he only had himself to blame for that. He had been so absorbed in his own pain that he had been so quick to believe the masks of happiness and complacency his brother wore with seeming ease.

His eyes are open, now...

He isn't conceding.

You have to let go and grieve. You have to share your pain. Abel has never been able to protect him from his suffering, and he may be as good as useless hard as he tries to be otherwise, but--

...If all he can do is protect your human heart from yourself, then that is what he'll do. He holds his brother silently, softly rubbing his back... the message he offers one that doesn't require words. He isn't relenting... and he will be here for you, until the very end.

There were so many things about being with Abel as he was now that were wonderful - the affection, the teasing, the lack of bruises on his brother's face. But at times like this, he wished Abel had retained some of that angry-eyed boy. He wanted Abel to trust in his smiles and let it go, he wanted his brother to see him as infallible and strong.

It's not fair.

He pulls away from his brother a little bit, sliding off his lap unable to quite look him in the eye. He's frightened, more of what might be left behind after the outpouring of grief, than of letting it go in the first place. He can't do it.

He can't.

"Please, Abel... lets get breakfast."

Abel's arms tighten when he feels his brother trying to draw back and off of his lap. He wouldn't deprive him anything -- grant any request, offer anything of himself to make him happy and whole, as long as it made his life better. As long as it kept him safe.

But this was not in his brother's best interest. Avoiding the pain doesn't make it go away.

He understands this lesson better than most. And Abel doesn't want Cain to have to suffer the way he had to learn it.

Instead of relinquishing his hold, he pulls him closer again, tighter -- tucking him securely to his chest and shaking his head once. He knows his brother is only fighting him because he understands what he's doing and why. No one wants to face the monsters lurking in the dark -- but pretending they aren't there or hiding in the light won't ever defeat them. He has to face this. He has to.

...He doesn't have to do it alone. Abel is here for him...

"You can't do this to yourself," he says, voice a low murmur. Apologetic... guilty; be-grieved but firm.

"I'm sorry." But I won't let you.

"Abel..."

Please. He desperately wants his brother to see that he can't do this, that it would be hurting him to do it. He would be shattering his coping mechanisms and destroying the few stable things he relied on.

He needs his sense of purpose, he needs to believe that he can make a difference here and get his brother to a better place. He needs to believe that he can remember what happens so he can change things at home. Or else... what's the point?

He will die there, die here, he will never get his future. Please don't make him face that horrendous truth.

"Let go of me."

That isn't the truth that's waiting for him at the end of this. Feeling his pain is not the same as destroying his resolve. He can still look toward the future, and understand that the past... the present, hurts. He can experience weakness and vulnerability without sacrificing strength.

Abel shakes his head again, running a few fingers softly through blonde hair.

"I'm sorry, Cain. I... can't, this time."

He's too immature and frightened deep down to see that he could still have these things. It's all tangled in his head, he thinks that if he gives in to the grief, then he will lose everything.

He's tense as a bowstring and just tensing more with each passing second he's in his brother's arms.

"Please. Please."

Cain might not see it, but... Abel does.

He will be here to collect the pieces. He'll be here, holding his hand through it all and hugging him close through all of his tears. He'd give him anything he could to make it better, and... it would get better. Abel wouldn't allow anything short of that.

He doesn't answer; Cain will understand the message in his silence, just as before. He has to let go of this and let the pain out, or it will destroy him piece by piece until there's truly nothing else. It will drive him, motivate every single one of his footsteps -- everything he thinks and feels and does until the day it finally eats him alive.

He's sorry. But it will be okay...

Maybe he needs that pain to motivate him. It's the injustice of their lives and the desperate need to make a better one that have motivated it to now. The pain is what reminds him to keep moving, keep smiling, so that one day they can have a future without pain.

He ducks his head a little, burying it further into Abel's shoulder as his fingers curled into his brother's cassock. He doesn't know if he's trying to push away or cling closer now, breathing coming a bit more ragged.

He'd plead again if he thought it would make a difference, but... he is so frightened, he doesn't want to face this. He's a coward, he would give anything to flee.

The pain in Mayfield is much different than the pain at home, and this one is immediate -- pressing and bearing down on the both of them. They need to get through this to get back home -- whether together or apart is yet to be determined. But Cain will not make it in one piece -- mentally or otherwise -- if this keeps up this way.

...

He ducks his head, apology and grief leaking into his voice. "I'm so sorry." It's his fault; he knows it's his fault -- that he broke his promise, that he was unable to protect him, but...

...This is... all he can do, brother. This is all he can do...

He can't accept that they might not leave together, he can't accept that if they leave Mayfield then it will be to their separate lives, ignorant of the time they had spent together.

The apology makes it worse, it's like salt in the wound. Abel can see his grief, so why is he hiding it? His brother already knows that he is a sham, that... that...

"Can't... I can't..."

Leaving apart is something he doesn't want to contemplate as entirely possible, either... but...

...

He is only doing what he can. The only thing he can to try and fix what's already been done. He can't go back in time, can't... go back to that horrible place and whisk you away from that sick, surreal light that had taken you right away from him, and--

Even if he did, maybe he would have simply lost you to something, someone else, down the line. If all he's capable of is this, then... he has to give it his absolute all.

"I'm here with you."

He's here with you, no matter what.

His breath hitched in his throat once... twice... and then it was all over. He couldn't do it any more, if Abel didn't see him as strong and implacable and infallible, then why was he still pasting on a smile?

It's not fair, Abel... all he wanted was to be the big brother still, to get them out of there and to give them a life they could be happy in. Was that such a terrible goal? Was it so wrong that he should dream above their station, that this was the punishment?

Haa... aa...

He sags in Abel's arms, boneless as a rag doll, as sobs start quietly at first. Like the mewls of an injured animal, before growing in volume to the howling agony of a frightened child.

...

The feel of his brother beginning to tremble both breaks his heart and is an immense relief. He holds him tighter still, tucking his brother's head under his chin... murmuring once softly 'it's okay' for what little good it would do. He knew the floodgates were beginning to be pried apart, and... just like after the horrible things he's previously experienced and the rare times Cain opened up after them--

...This would not be pleasant.

His premonition is correct.

He's grimacing, sincerely sick and brimming with a self-loathing hatred for allowing this to transpire. There is anger toward this town, toward everyone who let this happen, for every single soul who had a part in it reaching this point -- in all of those who promised to help and love and protect him who had been just as useless as Abel. There is guilt and fear, regret...

There is apology and a heartbroken sense of hopelessness he won't ever let Cain see.

But there is also a love that refuses to die, no matter how often its tested and pushed and prodded at, no matter how hard it is to upkeep in a place that wanted to tear one's ability to feel anything but anguish at all completely away. He loves him so much more than he could ever be afraid, or hate, or...

...

He keeps his arms around him, rubbing his back and holding him -- it may be one of the hardest things he's ever had to do, when Cain is filled to bursting with such a pain he can't possibly assuage, but... There is nothing in the world that could stop him from doing just this. He will be here.

He will be here. And it will all be okay, somehow, brother. He will always make sure they can carry onward, even if they have to crawl together.

This barrage of sensation is like a tidal wave, it refuses to be held back any longer and it's pouring out with explosive force. Sobbing, howling, shouting, it's not enough... none of it is enough to express this grief. His heart is beating so hard that it feels as though it's bruising inside his chest, and yet at the same time it aches as though it's not even there any more.

Unable to give a proper outlet to this maelstrom, he ends up screaming, over and over, wordless and agonised and barely human. It's frightened and angry, furious at the fate that wouldn't give them one simple future, and instead cursed them to watch one another suffer in the most horrific of ways.

Abel...

He can't see, just white spots, and there's only white noise and the sound of his own heart in his ears. He still doesn't know if he's fighting Abel or clutching him like driftwood, little fists beating on his brother's stomach and chest where he was tucked in one moment, and then clinging to his cassock the next.

Sorry. I'm so sorry.

He doesn't fight back or try to reason with him, console him -- there is no reason in this, no rationality or logic that could make it better, nothing to say or do that would calm the pain. Cain needs this -- he needs to be raw and ragged like never before. He needs to be angry, to be horrifically grief-stricken, to be in pain and let it all out however he could.

However... he could.

Abel doesn't flinch when tiny fists are turned on him and doesn't push him away when he's shoved; he keeps him on his lap and to his chest, holding him best he's able and trying to gently wipe his tears away when he can. This is heart-wrenching, one of the worst and most striking things he's ever had to bear witness... He feels his brother's pain like it's his own -- and in a way, isn't it...?

They are still two parts of a whole. Even like this.

...Even if that 'whole' is damaged and dysfunctional and howling just like his brother is now.

When all is said and done, however long this takes... he is... here, Cain. Still here, still...

It feels like it takes forever, but in reality it takes about four hours for everything to start to abate. By the time it's done, his hands are sore and red, and his head is thumping. His eyes are red and nearly squinted shut with how much he's been crying, his throat sore and raspy.

He feels drained, completely and totally limp, as though there was nothing left in him. He feels empty, he doesn't know what to say or do, just hollow and confused.

Abel... where is he supposed to go from here?

Please help him.

Hours haven't been so long as this in a long, long time.

None-the-less, he doesn't move from this spot -- not even after his brother's anguished release shows signs of slowing, then stopping completely. Instead, he only shifts their position ever so slightly, to rest his hand gently but firmly with growing pressure over his twin's flighty and rapidly beating heart.

It doesn't matter what they do to you, Cain. No matter how hard they try, how many times they pry them apart... he will be here at the end. He will be here, waiting for you to find your way back. There is no distance -- no reality, no possible realm or dimension, no paradox of time and space, that could keep him from making his way back to you. So... long as you can hold on... even if just in pieces, then...

...

He doesn't know where they will go from here. He has no idea what tomorrow will bring, or how he'll push his feet toward it even if he did. But there is one thing still thoroughly left in his chest, solid and real.

Abel will take you with him.

Rocking his little brother softly, he still doesn't have a single word to say to ease his pain or give him purpose outside of this. But he prays that this might be enough.

His resolve had always been built upon two things - his future and his brother. It's not fair on Abel, but with his future so uncertain now and his smiles and plans shattered, his sense of self rests entirely on Abel's shoulders.

With the unpredictable nature of this world, then it's even less of a fair burden for Abel, he can't be expected to keep the horrors of the town from touching Cain and he can't be held responsible for when things go wrong. Yet he still does trust that Abel is his protector, and he will keep trusting that no matter what.

"...Abel."

He doesn't know what to say, his heart hurts and his head is thumping, but his focus is shifting to Abel's hand pressed harder against his chest. As long as he has Abel, as long as they're two halves still, then he will find a way to survive, right?

His answer comes in an affectionate gesture, and he tilts his head slightly downward to press a little kiss into blonde hair.

He might feel lost, be floundering, but... at the end of the day, the very fact that Cain depends on him -- that his little brother needs him, will keep his head above water. No matter how much he struggles and how overwhelming things might seem, it's the weight of his little brother at his back that will remind him he still stands to lose -- and that losing is the one thing he absolutely cannot do.

Not ever again.

"If... you asked me..."

The words seem simple. But Cain would get it, wouldn't he? If Cain were to ask the one question that still haunted him from his youth...

What future do you want, Abel?

"All I want is one with you in it. I will fight for it... so please. No matter what happens to us, just... hold on, Cain. Hold onto me hard as you can, and even if you have to scream and claw for air to keep going -- don't let go."

He will be here. And he will find a way to make it right, if it kills him.

Ah.

Of all the things Abel could have said, that was exactly the right one. Platitudes of how it would be alright, or even further promises that he would protect him... they all would have sounded false and hollow to Cain's ears.

But that question had been one that had always meant something... perhaps it had been the first question he had ever asked the strange angry-eyed eight year old he had met, wanting to gain the measure of this other half that he hadn't even known had existed until then.

He screws his eyes shut against more tears that those words push forward, throwing his arms tight around his brother and hoping that he can get just what it means to him, because his throat is too tight to speak.

Thank you...

His eyes are stinging, hard... there is far too much locked up behind walls he will need to find his own release for, but-- in this moment...

...There is a palpable relief in his brother's response.

He ducks his head and pulls Cain tight to him, burying nose in blonde hair. He can't stop the watery blurriness of tears from flowing over anymore and he doesn't try... he's getting Cain wet, but... Cain is wet himself, hm? This is as good a time as any to cry like a child and to cling to the brother he's gotten back from the dead.

...Again.

They will make it through. They will keep going, they'll... keep going...

They will keep going, Cain -- he'll keep you moving forward with him, even if he has to drag them both. Please don't give up. As long as there is a scrap of you left to hang onto, he will make sure you're whole at the very end of it all, no matter what it takes.

It's a bit of a stark turnabout from the days that Cain remembers, where Abel was the one who would howl and rage (though usually with less tears), while Cain would be the one making sure they kept moving forwards all the time.

Usually he would be highly uncomfortable with this shift, he'd resist it as wanting to hold onto one of the things that kept him sane and with a purpose... but now, when he was so drained he didn't even want to lift his head, it was what he needed.

Perhaps this is what made them two halves of a whole, their natures and strengths shifted to accommodate what the other needed, making sure they could never be broken as long as they had each other.

"...love you."

He prays this is the start of a future in which his brother can come to him more openly with his pain... They've both made progress on that point since arriving in this town nearly a year ago, but-- there had been back-steps and mistakes, hiccups along the way. They both were so... nubile when it came to learning how to deal with emotions; as they aged at home, neither one of them had ever been taught how to properly deal with any of the things they had experienced.

And, it seemed... Mayfield was no exception to that rule.

Guidance came from one another. This time around, Abel is slightly better at it then he had been as a child, and then a man aging beside his twin... Maybe what he's learned has made a difference. A difference for the better. For Cain.

If that's true... then, maybe there's still hope that they can cling to. Right...?

He's satisfied to remain silent and indulge in something instinctual. All he wants, all he could possibly desire in this moment is to hold and keep his brother close. If it's all he can do, then...

...So be it.

It was undeniable that Cain had changed for the better since arriving here, though in small ways that he was still likely to deny to himself. He had friends now... real ones, people he cared about other than his family. Beast Boy had become a friend closer than he imagined any terran could be, and there were others... Clover, Ciel, Esther, even Charles... who he would think twice about before using for his own gain.

Yet to be able to admit his pain and willingly make himself vulnerable? That is a lesson he is not likely to learn quickly or something that will come easily from now on. But perhaps this is the first hard step towards that goal.

He doesn't want to move ever, can they just stay in this spot for all time?

Abel wouldn't deny his brother days of this if it was what he wanted -- he would stay here with him until they had to move to avoid droning, before going right back to it contentedly. Holding Cain was something he will never take for granted nor get enough of even if he were granted the gift and ability to do so for the rest of his days.

...Learning to be vulnerable was something that would take time; Abel understands. But... as long as his twin can learn from times like these -- that letting it go, letting it out and rebuilding is better for him, then... maybe it will come more easily the next time around. And then easier still the time after that. And again, until his head realizes what his heart must -- that it's okay to be hurt. That letting it go, letting it out, can ease the burden...

He murmurs softly into blonde hair. "Close your eyes."

Try to sleep, brother. Try to rest your head where it's safe. The world will be a little less terrible next time you open those eyes.

Part of him really does want that.

He wants to take his brother and hide from the world, cocoon them in safety and never have to deal with the confusion and hurt that the rest of the world brought with it. He could be happy that way, and he knows that Abel could too.

But there is another part of himself that wouldn't allow that to come to pass, that doesn't want to give up and hide. It's deep down and it's buried under the hurt at the moment, but there has always been a spark inside them both that keeps them from giving up entirely.

Obeying, he closed his eyes and wound his arms tighter around his big-little brother. Taking comfort from his familiar presence, and the sound of a heartbeat that will always be synonymous with safety and love.

"No matter what, I'll always be your little brother."

The words are a gentle murmur, barely audible and yet he knew that Cain would hear them well as he runs fingers softly through his hair to ease him into a comfortable sleep. Rest... rest, and let yourself recover. Even if Cain didn't suffer before he died, he still...

Died.

...It will get better.

It has to. So, leave it to him.

Edited 2012-07-19 01:09 (UTC)

Perhaps come morning he will want to push forwards again, be more proactive and start taking control again. But for now he is content to remain the child, safe in his protector's arms.

He will always hear Abel, and it seems that his brother knows all the right things to say today in order to soothe the tumult inside him.

Little brother...

His body and mind are both exhausted beyond words from the explosion of grief and anger, so it's seconds at best before he's utterly limp.

They'll deal with what the future holds another day.

For now... Abel will hold him, watching his little brother's face relaxed in sleep. And though he holds the title of priest -- though he wears the rosary around his neck with utter vigilance... he has never been a man of faith.

But today, he will pray for Cain's happiness with the utmost devotion of one.

Beheading is a family tradition

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bawww abel ):

bros :(

that icon is the best for this thread. there there woobie priest

there isn't enough woobie in any icon for this thread ok

this is true ):

hopeless...

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