[whumptober 2024] cynthia & cae (& calren) » race against the clock
Story: RPG Storyverse (vaguely canon)
Genre: Angst/Whump
Rating: 16+
Characters: fool_with_dream's Cynthia & Caedes (+ Calren)
Prompt: Whumptober 2024 - Day 1 (race against the clock | search party | panic attack | "if only we could hold on" (Icysami x Renagaderr, Strangers))
CN: Stress, panic, angst, potential loss of a best friend & partner, potential kidnapping, snapping at someone who's not at fault
Author's Note: This just hurts. Enjoy 🥲
It's the middle of a terrible night, and Caedes is sitting in one of the worn-out chairs in Cynthia's kitchen. Candlelight illuminates the familiar space as he watches her pace up and down in an endless loop, her breathing growing more rapid by the minute.
»You're panicking«, he points out.
»I know«, she snaps. Seconds later, though, she stops to look at him, flashing half a smile, strained and tired as much as apologetic. »I know«, she repeats, a little bit softer this time. »What else am I supposed to do? He's gone. We should be out there looking for him.«
Cae takes a sip of his lukewarm peppermint tea. »We have been out there searching«, he points out. »For days on end. Alyssé and Lynire took over for the night, remember? You know we can leave it to them for a while. We're not giving up. The search is still happening. But we do need to rest.«
»To hell with rest«, Cynthia scoffs. »I don’t need rest. I need Calren back.«
Cae pats the chair standing opposite his, and, despite her restlessness, Cynthia steps closer, lets herself sink onto the seat with a heavy sigh.
»Your tea.« Cae pushes the untouched cup towards her. »You might not technically need rest, but at the very least, you need to prevent this tea from going to waste. And to water your plants, maybe.«
Cynthia snorts joylessly, but grabs the cup without further protest. She takes a few sips, staring off into nothingness as if the answers she so desperately needs might just lay there, lost somewhere beyond the here and now. They sit in silence for a long while, and when she finally speaks again, her voice almost breaks under the weight of her words’ implications. »I can't stop imagining what she's doing to him.«
Neither can I. Without realizing, Caedes raises one hand to the spot between his collarbone and the crook of his neck, rubbing an old scar that suddenly starts to itch.
He can't speak his mind; not now. With Cynthia, he usually would, and without thinking twice. But right now, it would be cruel to say what he is really thinking. Right now, Cynthia needs the sliver of hope and optimism she so often represents to other people.
»We don't even know if she has him.« It's a gentle reminder of the last hope they could possibly hold onto. »He could be anywhere in the world, for any reason.«
Cynthia vehemently shakes her head. »He would never leave. Not without letting me know.«
»Something else might have happened«, Cae suggests. »You never know. It doesn't always have to be the worst case.«
But he's well aware the chances are slim, at best. There’s always hope, of course, but this time …
Having come to the same conclusion, Cynthia shakes her head again. »My gut says it is her, though. It can’t be anything else.«
»Your gut, or your fear?«
»Both.« For a brief moment, her gaze lifts to meet his, and the sheer torment in her eyes is almost too much to bear. It's the frantic expression of someone who has already lost and suffered too much; someone about to face a truth that might send them far beyond rock bottom. He knows the feeling all too well. »You can stop with the denial and the hope and the bullshit, Cae. We both know what happened. And what it means.«
»We don't know for-«
»Stop it.« She slams her cup onto the table, not hard enough to break it, but enough to spill some of the liquid long gone cold over her hands. »I'm not arguing with you about the off chance that he might have just gotten lost in the woods or something when all signs point to that fucking maniac.« A flood of Spanish curses follows, spilling from her lips so quickly even Cae has trouble catching all the words in their shared native language. »She has him. I know it. It's a fucking race against the clock, and we’re sitting here doing nothing. Fuck resting. Fuck this tea and fuck my plants. We're wasting time he doesn't have.«
She stands up so abruptly she almost knocks her chair over in the process. Without looking, she briefly pats all the spots where she keeps her knives hidden, then grabs her cloak from behind the kitchen door and disappears into the candleless night.
Getting Cynthia to rest when someone she loves is in danger is like trying to pray an earthquake away; you can always try, but ultimately, it is and always will be a hopeless endeavor.
»We will find him, Cyn«, Caedes calls after her. »We will get him back.«
»We have to.« Her voice is so quiet in the darkened hallway he almost doesn't notice it's trembling. »I can't lose him, too.«
Genre: Angst/Whump
Rating: 16+
Characters: fool_with_dream's Cynthia & Caedes (+ Calren)
Prompt: Whumptober 2024 - Day 1 (race against the clock | search party | panic attack | "if only we could hold on" (Icysami x Renagaderr, Strangers))
CN: Stress, panic, angst, potential loss of a best friend & partner, potential kidnapping, snapping at someone who's not at fault
Author's Note: This just hurts. Enjoy 🥲
It's the middle of a terrible night, and Caedes is sitting in one of the worn-out chairs in Cynthia's kitchen. Candlelight illuminates the familiar space as he watches her pace up and down in an endless loop, her breathing growing more rapid by the minute.
»You're panicking«, he points out.
»I know«, she snaps. Seconds later, though, she stops to look at him, flashing half a smile, strained and tired as much as apologetic. »I know«, she repeats, a little bit softer this time. »What else am I supposed to do? He's gone. We should be out there looking for him.«
Cae takes a sip of his lukewarm peppermint tea. »We have been out there searching«, he points out. »For days on end. Alyssé and Lynire took over for the night, remember? You know we can leave it to them for a while. We're not giving up. The search is still happening. But we do need to rest.«
»To hell with rest«, Cynthia scoffs. »I don’t need rest. I need Calren back.«
Cae pats the chair standing opposite his, and, despite her restlessness, Cynthia steps closer, lets herself sink onto the seat with a heavy sigh.
»Your tea.« Cae pushes the untouched cup towards her. »You might not technically need rest, but at the very least, you need to prevent this tea from going to waste. And to water your plants, maybe.«
Cynthia snorts joylessly, but grabs the cup without further protest. She takes a few sips, staring off into nothingness as if the answers she so desperately needs might just lay there, lost somewhere beyond the here and now. They sit in silence for a long while, and when she finally speaks again, her voice almost breaks under the weight of her words’ implications. »I can't stop imagining what she's doing to him.«
Neither can I. Without realizing, Caedes raises one hand to the spot between his collarbone and the crook of his neck, rubbing an old scar that suddenly starts to itch.
He can't speak his mind; not now. With Cynthia, he usually would, and without thinking twice. But right now, it would be cruel to say what he is really thinking. Right now, Cynthia needs the sliver of hope and optimism she so often represents to other people.
»We don't even know if she has him.« It's a gentle reminder of the last hope they could possibly hold onto. »He could be anywhere in the world, for any reason.«
Cynthia vehemently shakes her head. »He would never leave. Not without letting me know.«
»Something else might have happened«, Cae suggests. »You never know. It doesn't always have to be the worst case.«
But he's well aware the chances are slim, at best. There’s always hope, of course, but this time …
Having come to the same conclusion, Cynthia shakes her head again. »My gut says it is her, though. It can’t be anything else.«
»Your gut, or your fear?«
»Both.« For a brief moment, her gaze lifts to meet his, and the sheer torment in her eyes is almost too much to bear. It's the frantic expression of someone who has already lost and suffered too much; someone about to face a truth that might send them far beyond rock bottom. He knows the feeling all too well. »You can stop with the denial and the hope and the bullshit, Cae. We both know what happened. And what it means.«
»We don't know for-«
»Stop it.« She slams her cup onto the table, not hard enough to break it, but enough to spill some of the liquid long gone cold over her hands. »I'm not arguing with you about the off chance that he might have just gotten lost in the woods or something when all signs point to that fucking maniac.« A flood of Spanish curses follows, spilling from her lips so quickly even Cae has trouble catching all the words in their shared native language. »She has him. I know it. It's a fucking race against the clock, and we’re sitting here doing nothing. Fuck resting. Fuck this tea and fuck my plants. We're wasting time he doesn't have.«
She stands up so abruptly she almost knocks her chair over in the process. Without looking, she briefly pats all the spots where she keeps her knives hidden, then grabs her cloak from behind the kitchen door and disappears into the candleless night.
Getting Cynthia to rest when someone she loves is in danger is like trying to pray an earthquake away; you can always try, but ultimately, it is and always will be a hopeless endeavor.
»We will find him, Cyn«, Caedes calls after her. »We will get him back.«
»We have to.« Her voice is so quiet in the darkened hallway he almost doesn't notice it's trembling. »I can't lose him, too.«