[BACKDATED] moments of happiness elude

[unlostsoul]

Characters: Teddy/Throne (child_proteus) and Billy/Want (unlostsoul)
Date/Time: BACKDATED. The night of July 25, immediately after Throne gets a bad ping from Praise
Location: Throne's room, Throne and Argent's house, Section 4
Rating: PG
Summary: Want sees an exchange in the journals that worries him and goes to check up on Throne. Turns out that was a pretty good idea

Comments

[child_proteus]

His first reaction had been nausea -- thick and bitter, the kind that sticks of his throat and coats all of his teeth. Perhaps if there had been gravity he'd let himself do it too, but the prospect of being sick like this had been motivation enough to swallow it down, his eyes stinging with tears. He's so distracted by the feeling, hands clenched hard into fists, that he almost doesn't hear the sound when there's a sharp rap at the window. His first reaction is panic, embarassment, unwilling to let anybody see him like this, but when he looks up and sees that it's Want, he quickly starts for the window. By the time he reaches it, however, he's not entirely sure what to do. Throne stares at Want hard through the window, wiping absently with the back of both hands at his red-rimmed eyes. He almost wants to say, Go away, but he knows that that's not true. In fact, the only person that he does want to see right now is Want because, even though he can't remember it, there's a strange tickle -- not entirely unpleasant -- that tells

[unlostsoul]

Possibly the only thing worse than stupid fucking zero-gravity right now is being forced to sit on one side of a closed window and watch Throne make that face and look at him with cry-red eyes and not be able to do a thing about it. Want doesn't want to go pounding on the window and yelling for Throne to let him in -- except he kinda would if he wasn't worried about how much worse that could make Throne feel. If Throne can feel any worse. Instead, he puts one hand on the window and mouths, when he can't quite bring himself to speak aloud, "Let me in?" It's still a question right now, he figures; in another minute, though, he goes to find Argent.

[child_proteus]

The sound of Want's hand pressing up against the glass is enough to make Throne look up, his hand is still hanging in the air, only inches away from the small oval knob. As he turns the latch, he looks at Want through the glass, flashing him a weak little smile. It's the kind of smile that grown-ups use when they speak to children, reassuring them -- if only for a moment -- that everything will be alright when clearly, it won't be. As he opens the window, Throne pushes himself back, hard, into the deep shadow of the room. He says for a moment, just floats, and looks at Want -- his expression completely laid bare though his body language is still shuttered. It takes every iota of self control not to just rush forward and catch Want in both of his arms and hug and hug and hug until this feeling in him subsides. "You knew," he whispers and it's not quite a question, but not quite a statement either.

[unlostsoul]

Of course, the second Want is able to swing his feet inside the room, he doesn't know what to do anymore. Getting here was the goal, and now he's here, the path forward is hidden or totally closed off, like the way Throne is standing on the other side of the room, this tangle of control and something that looks way beyond just sadness.

Grief, despair are the words Want's mind supplies most readily, and his stomach seems to curl in on itself in a despair of its own. It makes room for some more anger to fill his chest, although its less of a random, thrashing rage and more purposeful. Why are you even stopping to think about this, he demands of himself and in the same moment, he uses his position still half on the window ledge as a launching pad, pushing himself fast and chaotically over to where Throne is floating in the shadows. He wraps his arms around Throne's shoulder as best he can, one hand finding a place to rest along the back of his neck, fingers digging into the short hair there. He presses his forehead into Throne's

[child_proteus]

Throne's not sure if whether or not Want's reaction is surprising or expected. What he does know is, when he feels Want's body curling around him, the effect is not purely physical either, but emotional as well. Because despite the violent rocking of his emotions right now, in this moment Throne feels suddenly cocooned as he feels Want breathe against his neck. Wrapping a tentative arm around his waist, Throne pulls Want to him in an awkward hug. He tilts head tilting down slightly so his cheek is pressed against Want's hair and so that, when he inhales he can smell soap and summer sweat and things that tug at him, threaten to ground him, to anchor him. But there's more to this moment than just Want, there's the sharp rises and falls of his emotions -- things that he can't control and, when he tries to understand, seem to go blurry at the edges, almost as elusive as his memory, only much more present and painful. When he speaks, his voice is a sharp whisper that catches occasionally in his throat. "I don't get it. I don't get

[unlostsoul]

Want shuts his eyes and pulls his arms tighter, not sure what he can achieve by this when they're so close together already, but it's all he can think to do when Throne's voice keeps grating in his chest and throat like that. He can feel sympathetic tears forming behind his eyelids as he gets out, in a croaky whisper, "Throne..." and then has to stop again to swallow.

How do you answer a question like that? He knows that Throne meant it rhetorically, just a curse thrown at all the unfairness and pain he's had to deal with. So much, way too much. Want swallows roughly and wishes he had an answer anyway and wishes he could do something more than just hold on to Throne and wishes that life would give them a fucking chance to catch their breaths for once

[child_proteus]

Throne thinks that the worst part of all is not the fact that he feels what he does, but rather the fact that he doesn't know why. Emotions, even negative ones, each have their purpose, their function, but when they're stripped entirely of meaning like this, they're nothing more than abstract shapes that Throne's feelings seem to get stuck in, get caught on, without any indication of how to possibly work his way out. If he could, he would just crawl into Want and hide as well as he could from the past, but he knows that's not an option for them and that Want would never stay with him there -- locked up tight without anything but the present to guide them and into what? So instead, he somewhat collapses onto Want -- as much as one can without gravity to weight them down. He feels held up -- and in more ways than one -- and it's just enough to steady him as the the whirlygig of his feelings plays itself out. When he finally speaks, his voice is suddenly distant and strange; he's talking again, talking without thinking, letting the

[unlostsoul]

Want pulls back at those two whispered words, so he can look at Throne's face. He moves one hand from the back of Throne's neck to his cheek, trying to wipe away tears even if there are more coming, while the other slips down to settle against his back. He's managed to hold back tears himself so far, but the corners of his mouth are still turned down, tugged at by something much stronger than gravity.

"Throne," he says, voice soft and rough at the same time, and he cups Throne's face in his hand as best he can. "Throne. Your mom, whatever happened, whatever it is we can't remember, she didn't just go and leave a space. You can still feel her right? So she's still there, and she always will be. Just like the rest of us. Because you loved her, and she loved you." He gives a vain push at Throne's bangs, trying to clear them away from his face and out of his eyes. "I can feel that in my gut."

[child_proteus]

As he looks at Want and hears his voice, listens to the things that he says, it takes Throne more than a moment to understand what the sum total is of all of the things he's feeling right now. He's mourning. It's a loss that he feels almost completely, even without context, but instead of drown in it and himself, somehow Want is able to find some handhold inside him and drag him back up to the surface. And even though the entirety of himself can feel the tug -- the threat -- of being pulled back under, on his face for a moment there is nothing but light. He knows that that light is Want, the way he looks at him with such sincerity, speaking volumes with his eyes as if to say if there's one real truth that I know, this is it, for what it's worth. Acting on muscle memory or maybe just impulse, Throne reaches up with one hand and cups the side of Want's face, pulling it towards him. Leaning forward he brings their foreheads together, shutting his eyes tightly, tears still slowly leaking from their corners. "I don't know," he says

[unlostsoul]

Want repeats Throne's shake of the head, careful not to break contact anywhere. His hand on Throne's back actually tightens, twisting his fingers into the shirt and trying to pull them closer together again. He keeps his eyes open, so he can see everything that passes across Throne's face, the bad and the worse and the occasional, heart-lifting glimmers of hope.

Finally, he whispers, "No." He shakes his head again. "I don't think so. These things are who we are, even when they hurt us and we'd rather just forget them. You'd forget too much along with them, an-- and they're bits of you even when you don't know they're there. I'm not sure it's possible to reject the bad and only take in the good

[child_proteus]

Ignorance -- carte blance, tabula rasa -- these are the paths of least resistance, and as much as Throne would like to walk them, he keeps finding himself drug back to memories of a life he no longer has access to. And yes, as painful as the bits and pieces that he's collected so far are, he can't but help but believe that there's some truth to what Want says -- as reluctant as he is to accept it. After all, wasn't that what Want was? The one true certainty he had from the past -- their connection the sum total of whatever had come before? Slowly, eventually, Throne opens his eyes, watching Want's watching his. When the tears come, as few as they are, Throne reaches up with his thumb to rub at the rise of Want's cheek, shaking his head every so slightly as if to say, no don't. And when Want smiles, such a small gesture across his lips, Throne cannot help but smile -- despite his tears -- waveringly back. Because it's true, he understands what Want is saying, even though his point of reference differs. When he thinks very

[unlostsoul]

Even though Throne's smile is fragile and gone so quickly, for a second it was there, and Want seizes on that and lets it bolster his own smile, keep it steady and, while still wobbling at the edges, sincere all the same. In degrees, coaxing himself into it, he lets go of Throne's shirt and brings his hand up to press against the other side of Throne's face, like he's trying to catch him and this is the only way how. That thought is a little too accurate and strange for Want for a moment, and his smile teeters on the brink of disappearing. He catches that too, seems to be doing pretty well at that tonight, and looks firmly at Throne

[child_proteus]

It's hard to not smile when Want is smiling, but somehow, this time Throne manages it. He's concentrating too hard on the things that Want is saying, and when both hands come up to cradle his face, he pulls back slightly, one hand reaching to catch Want's wrist and hold him steady there against him. When he looks at Want, it's as if he trying to read something in Want's face, like the answers to the questions that arise with each passing sentence are somewhere hidden beneath his features, whispering to Throne secretly. But, as is the case with so many things with Want, everything seems to be written in a whole other language, even though the sentiment is there.

He frowns slightly, his brow pinching, his cheeks still wet through the tears have slowed to a halt. "But if you accept these things for how they make you feel, then...they become a part of you. And if that's the case..." he hesitates, his hand sliding down, off of Want's cheek onto his neck, then back around so that can nestle in the crook between the nape and his

[unlostsoul]

"God," Want chokes, a hitch in his breath that sort of sputters with surprise at the sudden swell of feelings; this is overwhelming and frightening, having all of his own questions come tumbling out of Throne's mouth like this, and he feels like the fastest, easiest way out would be to just take this the very little distance they have left to go and actually kiss Throne and just not let go. But he knows as well that that isn't what either of them need right now, however much they might want it at other times or in general, and that easy rarely ever means right.

He moves his hands instead, slipping them away from Throne's cheeks and down to his jawline. "You are a whole person. You can't see th-- How can you say that? What's missing isn't gone. It's just... somewhere else. But we've both got it inside of us, we just have to figure out how we get at it." He has to shut his eyes and squeeze them tight; this sounded weirdly and unsettlingly familiar all of a sudden. "You're whole, Throne. You are. I can see it."

[child_proteus]

Throne smiles in response, more completely now, smiles as though he's not quite sure that he would have ever managed it again otherwise. It flickers onto his face with a small noise of relief, Want's reassurance -- three sentences, just a handful of words -- resonates to the very center of him. It balances him, stops the pitching and reeling, if only for the briefest of moments as he looks at Want with thankful eyes and then asks very quietly, "Can you?" He turns his face now, in the cup of Want's hands, turns so that his mouth and his chin now rest cradled in one. When he speaks his voice is pleading and soft, his lips moving against the underside of Want's fingers, his own breath pooling against his skin, warming him, soothing him by degrees.

"Will you help me?" he asks, his eyes flickering sideways to find Want's again -- suddenly brown to brown. "Find all of those parts again. In me, and in you." Before he can answer, he looks away again, his eyes focusing on some invisible thing. "In the end, that's what matters. I

[unlostsoul]

Want quivers, right through to his fingertip, his whole body reacting to the feeling of breath and warmth on his skin even when his brain firmly won't allow himself too. Stop it, he tells himself, focusing on his breathing instead of the curve of Throne's lower lip under his fingers. He doesn't move his hands though; he suspects he couldn't even if he wanted to.

It takes a moment to find his voice again and when he does, there's really only one thing he can think to say: "Yes." But even that has a quiver to it, a weird throaty warble or something, and Want quickly clears his throat to try again. "Yes, I'll help." He pauses for a second almost immediately, thinking carefully about how Throne said this next bit: with emphasis, with a certain amount of reverence. It makes Want want to shake again, though in a very different way, and he thinks remotely about how this is where so much of this started, with a well-placed iwant. "Yeah, T," he says. "I want us to be whole too."