[IC Scene]
With soft footsteps, Hector came to stand outside of Lacroix’s bedroom door, his arms full with a brand new blanket, still wrapped in its firm plastic sheath. This might have looked like an ordinary duvet from the outside packaging, but the fabric was weighted, twenty pounds heavy, a tool for those who experienced sleep issues like Lacroix so often
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But it wasn't only the sleep - Lacroix had made some worrying comments recently, like calling himself a failure, that had really dug away at Hector. What kind of teacher was he if his apprentice felt so lowly of himself?
“Do you want company?” came another gentle question, just testing the air to see if Lacroix even wanted him in the room, much less ordering him food or anything else. He crossed his arms casually, not bothering to go sit down unless Lacroix told him it was all right. Forcing his presence when Lacroix was upset wasn’t something he wanted to do. “Or am I intruding?”
If Lacroix wanted to watch movies in peace, Hector would collect his glass of water and return to his bedroom for the remainder of the evening. Worrying over Lacroix in private was practically a hobby anyway.
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Again, choices...his were not always wise and he wished he were having the conversation in a fully sober state of mind because he wasn't sure if that helped or hindered right then. Whatever the case though, too late to undo that little mess, wasn't it?
Lacroix shifted a bit, dragging the blanket along with him as he retreated to one side of the couch rather than taking up the whole of it so that Hector didn't have to loom there. "Intruding? On my giving myself emotional trauma over superhero movies? Nah."
It probably wasn't a healthy way to spend the night in the first place.
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“That’s supposed to help you sleep,” he noted, gesturing to that blanket as he walked over to sit on the now-open side of the couch. No use lingering on the topic of superhero movies if it was upsetting to Lacroix. “But it doesn’t appear it’s working too well.”
Hector didn’t have to outright say that he was worried; even though his tone was its usual calm, it had a hint of concern, and Lacroix was probably familiar enough with him by now to pick up on any tiny variations in his voice.
“I don’t suppose there’s anything else you’d like to try?” Online research had given Hector the idea for a weighted blanket, but perhaps Lacroix had some other idea of his own.
…or maybe Hector was expecting too much of a serious conversation given that Lacroix was just a little inebriated. It was rare that Hector consumed to the point of drunkenness, at least anymore. Years ago, when he’d been Lacroix’s age, it had been a common coping mechanism to deal with what he felt at the time were horrors.
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Even if he hadn't managed to sleep yet it was still comfortable, warm, and the weight of it was nice. Maybe when he actually did settle his brain enough to rest he would have better luck with it, nightmares aside; they were nasty things with a vicious bite to them. If a blanket was going to help that he would bury himself in them, it was an incredibly inviting possibility.
Feeling around for the table next to the couch to place the tablet there, willing to set aside sad that particular emotional turmoil for another night when he didn't have Hector's company. At night that was a rare occurrence with Corbin lurking around and their relationship.
At least that was going well for Hector; actually seeing him look forward to Corbin's visits made it worth making himself scarce at times.
"It's just a lot on my mind lately, you know? You probably know how that is, you think even more than I do." He was accomplishing the conversation better than he expected, maybe his tolerance for alcohol had grown with him over time.
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But he wouldn’t take back his old life even if he could; Lacroix gave him a sense of purpose now, and more importantly, he’d opened Hector up to the concept of truly caring for another person again. Lacroix was his family, and he’d sacrifice anything to make certain Lacroix was safe and fulfilled.
“You don’t always confide in me,” he replied, watching Lacroix. His tone lacked any malice or accusation; he was simply stating facts. Lacroix often brushed Hector’s concern aside when he voiced it. “I don’t know how to help you if you don’t tell me what you’re thinking.”
He could try anyway, and he did -- the new blanket was evidence of that. But without knowing everything that was on Lacroix’s mind, his efforts were not quite on the mark. Corbin had given him a little bit of insight - those curious questions about vampires - but Hector still didn’t understand, and hadn’t broached the topic with Lacroix either. Yes, Lacroix’s sudden interest in vampires was another concern to add to the list, but if Hector confronted him about it, perhaps Lacroix would no longer confide in Corbin, and Hector didn’t want that either.
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With that right in front of him, the heaviness of someone who thought about his potential? Lacroix wasn't certain why that was such a struggle to just accept beyond the surface.
The surface was always easy, he wasn't dishonest in his good nature by any means, but doubts were digging little spots under his skin.
With a restless twinge of motion, Lacroix drew one knee up and rested an elbow against it where he sat sidewise, fingers tangled into the fabric under them. "You give me a lot of credit for even me knowing what I'm thinking," Lacroix offered a weak chuckle because the humor was a comfortable spot.
But it was equally difficult to edge from the question when Hector was sitting there studying him, trying to root out the cause to his restlessness the last few weeks. Lacroix sank his shoulders back against the arm of the couch with a slide of his eyes towards the ceiling.
"You don't do this often, all of this...teaching someone thing. None of you do, right?* He ventured into the idea slowly, it wasn't any direct answer but one Lacroix realized he wanted once he'd begun speaking. And he had only heard of a handful of people in the building, never saw anyone aside from Hector's mentor on rare occasions, the sheer amount of solitude to it all was something he had never been able to understand.
Another to the list of things that were an ill-fit, he was feeling buried under that he knew he had to dig free of because it was far too much like weaker points in his past. Those were not memories to return to or test the edges of, he had moved far past that.
"You really made a weird choice with me," Lacroix mused with a faint pop of his spine that marked a shift of his neck back against the ridge of the couch, "Or...magic did, I guess, I don't know."
Somehow...down moments included, he had just never been able to look at death the way Hector did, nor the darkness when he was so often transfixed by brighter things. "Does that...change?"
Was he going to change that much? He was feeling weary, yes, but he had gone through difficult roads before and come out the same person.
Was he supposed to change?
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Then again, Hector remained in the dark, had no idea of any ex-boyfriend, or secret vampire rendezvouses, or a chance meeting with a sin eaters. He had a level of trust that Lacroix would keep himself safe so he didn’t bother resorting to extreme surveillance, and had no idea of Lacroix’s comings and goings.
“It’s unusual for us to teach a second pupil, but it isn’t unheard of.” Hector had no insight into the teaching styles of mages outside their home - perhaps other groups of mages took on multiple students at a time. He couldn’t fathom trying to instruct two students at once; just pouring his effort into Lacroix’s studies, and bonding with him over time, had taken up the bulk of his time.
The question gave Hector a pause though - did Lacroix want him to take on another student? Or was Lacroix just missing interaction with people his own age? "Are you lonely here?”
Hector never thought Lacroix had been an odd choice; death didn’t make mistakes, and even if Lacroix couldn’t see it now, Hector was certain he’d find his place eventually. Lacroix’s abilities had grown immensely since the time they’d met, and Hector couldn’t have been prouder of his progress.
But a tiny spike of distress began to form in Hector’s gut, and for a moment he wondered if loneliness wasn’t all that Lacroix might be feeling. He shifted to sit sideways, leaning his shoulder against the back of the couch, the lines of tension beginning to show on his forehead. “...Are you unhappy here?”
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Nobody had made it easy for him; not his circumstances and certainly not his own father and he couldn't even bring himself to be angry at the man for his addictions taking such a deep hold.
How could he? Clearly, mental abnormality ran in the family with his mother and himself, addiction was practically one and the same. And it was just too hard to blame his dad for much, he loved him in spite of any of that and love, no matter what the form of it, was always blind.
No less blind when it came to a child for his parents than it was an idiot for a crush that had abandoned him.
He loved Hector too though and that was part of the spike of pain in the question, it felt like he was betraying him for even having doubts when the life he had now was easy, comfortable and more than he ever could have reached on his own.
"No, it's not that; I'm not unhappy here. I've got everything here, you know? It's easy, i don't have to work until I'm dead on my feet to make rent and figure out how to do that and still eat, I live here and most people in this city would kill to have something like this place." There were so many good things, just dropped right into his lap, the guilt in questioning it was a deep one.
Lacroix drew a heavy breath and tucked himself into the corner of the couch a bit more, words feeling messy. "I'm happy here with you too. You're like..my best friend, you're exhausting sometimes and probably a little too pretentious," the humor was weak but it was an honest attempt, "I can't say that those are bad things though, it's just you like all my weirdness you don't like sometimes is just me. And don't think it's creepy, even if it is, but you're like a weird...mix of having an older brother and an actual dad instead of the one I had. So it's not here, and it's not you; all those things are great."
But there was something eating him alive from the inside, dulling his infectious joy and bright personality, wearing it down into a shadow with cloudy eyes and tired thoughts. More than one single thing, perhaps, that he had to speak even if he didn't want to and was almost afraid that doing so might change things.
It was the fear of disappointing Hector that ached, he respected and adored him, and to a point, he loved to challenge him over little things because it made it feel like even ground between them.
But none of what troubled him was something little, and the worry that it could be something damaging was miserable.
"It's really me; I promise I try but I'm so bad at so much of this. I still gag and freak out over things that shouldn't bother me, I don't know if I can be like you guys." He trailed off into a sigh and tipped his eyes skyward. "I've always tried at everything but nothing ever seems to fit right for me. Not even my magic fits, apparently, and that probably should, right? That should be the easiest thing in the world for me."
The doubts tasted bitter on his tongue, like venom in his veins and that was only the surface of it. The layers under were ugly, lies that had begun to weigh so heavy on his shoulders. "With everything, it should be the easiest thing in the world; just live here, listen to you, be honest about everything; but I don't always do those things."
"I'm happy here, I'm not happy with myself sometimes though. It's like I have to push things and see what happens, I think I pushed too much with a few things and it's giving me hell now," Lacroix admitted quietly, unable to draw his gaze back to the other man with that guilty feeling chewing at the edges of his words.
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Guilt gnawed at Hector’s insides too, because it was clear that something must be fundamentally wrong with his teaching methods, or the way they lived, or how interacted with each other. Why else would Lacroix be in a state like this? His apprentice was just… withering, and who but Hector could be to blame? Hector had no prior life experience to draw upon to know how to navigate how he should fix the situation because Lacroix was far more reserved; when Hector had been angry or unhappy as a young man, he’d ranted to Ghede with every grisly detail of why he was upset.
“You don’t have to be just like I am,” Hector relented as he tried as best he could to make himself not sound as strained as he felt. But the thought of Lacroix ignoring his magic completely was too wild of an idea for Hector to fathom, so a compromise was the only solution in his logical mind that presented itself. “But it would be a shame to let your ability go untended. I’ll work to make a new path for you, just be patient with me. Trust in me.”
If Lacroix couldn’t find contentment delving into all the death had to offer, Hector would still be driven to help mold him into a powerful alchemist. Ectoplasm, bones, and rot were far from the only topics Hector had mastered, and if Lacroix would thrive turning pebbles into diamonds and water into wine, then Hector would be pleased to train him in transmogrification. After all this time, he saw Lacroix as his closest of family, and he couldn’t bring himself to force Lacroix into a life that made him miserable.
Before Lacroix had come into his life, Hector had felt so sure of himself and his place in the world, but now he was struggling, taking wild stabs in the dark to try to ease Lacroix’s suffering. Weighted blankets, designer cats, and beach vacations weren’t working; he was trying so hard but Lacroix wasn’t any better off for the effort.
He felt ashamed to have to ask so bluntly, but he was lost and needed guidance on how else to proceed. “What else can I do? What’s troubling you?” He turned his palms upward as if asking for any scrap of revelation that Lacroix could give him, and one final, defeated request. “Please.”
All he wanted was to make Lacroix feel more at ease, to bring back that spark of excitement and energy that his apprentice seemed to have lost.
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Magic was death and shadows, corpses and ghosts; that was what he knew and what he had learned as the normal paces to the power that bubbled in his veins. It wasn't Hector at all, none of it was.
"You've made it easy for me, I promise, all you've done is made it easy for me and I appreciate it." He reassured Hector, sitting up some and shaking his head, strands of hair falling in his eyes. "Maybe," he stumbled over the words a bit as he tried to find the ones he wanted, "I think, maybe, I don't know how to deal with things being easy. They've never been easy for me."
Lacroix laughed, nearly embarrassed by the revelation in that and more, "I think easy sort of makes me into a real selfish jerk."
It was a relief though, coming to the confusion, and voicing it. The sheer absurdity of the notion hit him and he lifted a hand to run through his hair as he gathered some composure after the outburst of laughter.
"Kidding aside, I'm not you and I can't be. I'm not the me I was a year ago either though, and I guess by the end of all of this I'll be somebody different from now. But that happens to everybody just going through life, right?" Growing up, though he was hesitant to say it since he thought himself rather grown in his twenties but he still had a long way to go. "You can't figure it out for me, you've just got to teach me and watch me screw up. I'll find a point where something works for me, I'd rather fail a million times anyway and eventually get there. Just, not the really creepy stuff yet, okay? I'll throw up on you."
Really, he very likely might.
But Hector didn't have to change that, the man was patient and the challenge and failing was hard to stomach but it kept him on his feet. Life too easy was just a reason to let his thoughts wander, and ever a time that had happened, he realized, he ran off and did something foolish.
"I've gotta find my place in all of this, it's just hard. I'm going to doubt myself. You are doing what I need, so far as all the magic, just...don't give up on me, even when I do."
Life was otherwise complicated though, and everything together felt like the weight of a house on him. He fidgeted, maybe the magic conversation was enough for that night, there was so much more but Hector was already in a state he hated to see him in, it felt cruel to approach the rest.
"I'm sorry, this is a lot and I have the worst habit of letting things build up." Lacroix tried his best to stare a hole into the floor but it wouldn't yield, nor did it seemed concerned with his scrutiny. "Did you ever do anything stupid when you were new to all of this? You always seem to be, well, not perfect but you've got yourself together way better than I'll ever be able to. Not that..I really want to be the whole..stoic thing and all, but I'm guessing you didn't get stir crazy like I do even at the start."
He also very deeply doubted Hector had amassed a broken relationship, a questionable friendship with a manipulative vampire, and a laundry list of lies in his early years. "If I continue this conversation you're not going to lock me in a closet under the stairs like Harry Potter for a decade, right? You'll probably be less than...happy about things."
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Lacroix’s question about his past gave him a pause, and he rubbed his jaw, contemplating events of years past. Perhaps he didn’t talk about his own upbringing enough -- maybe if he did, Lacroix would see that no one took to this life perfectly right away.
“I drank far too often. And I slept far too often.” Sleeping twelve hours a night had been an escape for Hector as a youth, just turning off his mind and letting unconsciousness take him instead -- which is why he struggled so hard to cope with Lacroix’s insomnia, because it was an affliction he’d never experienced personally.
Alcohol and excess sleep were far from the worst of his sins, and he hesitated a moment before deciding to open up further. Perhaps regaling his apprentice with a more unsavory story would make him feel as if he weren’t alone in feeling lost. “…I crashed my car into a light pole, intentionally, because I felt it really didn’t matter.” And what did it matter if that car was ruined, he’d thought so long ago - after all, he could just buy another one.
That existential crisis had made Ghede furious, and he’d cut Hector off from their joint bank account until Hector repaired the car on his own - with the help of magic. It was a harsh lesson in appreciating the gifts that he had rather than taking them for granted.
“Times were different then,” Hector went on with a little shrug. “I had the freedom to go where I pleased but I was followed by our house’s staff.” Being followed everywhere by guards had driven him mad; it was much more bearable to travel along with Ghede alone than to be shadowed by armed men hired for his protection. They hadn’t kept bodyguards on staff in years, Hector was old enough to protect both himself and Lacroix now without the need to involve other people.
But Lacroix saying the words stir crazy made Hector’s insides tense. The thought of him venturing out who knows where alone made Hector’s anxiety flare; he wasn’t trying to control Lacroix, only to protect him. If he were wildly overprotective, he’d watch the lobby security cameras like a hawk to make sure Lacroix didn’t go anywhere. As it was, he hadn’t glanced at them in months, content in the knowledge that Lacroix was always safe at home.
Or so he thought.
“Would that make you feel more at ease, if you could have more time alone outside?”
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