dead to the power of two | OPEN

[runeing]

Who: celen's boys (aka charles and viktor), you?
Where: viktor's lab, lupin, the farm
What: viktor finally loses the battle against his illness and comes back. meanwhile, charles is learning magic (badly).
Warnings: death and dying, mentions of child abuse



PROMPTS IN COMMENTS.

▷ charles.
▷ viktor.

Comments

[nilhilistic]

I do not need to be thanked. And not with this . . . contact.

[ it's not charles. for rafal, contact used to be something to fear. a sibling puts their arms around you to slip a dagger in your back. a father places a hand upon your shoulder and his magic rots your head. a myriad of death sentences from family.

except nel, of course. but even nel wasn't particularly demonstrative. for the same reasons as rafal. ]

[incorrigibles]

Being thanked isn't about needing it, though, is it? It's about me wanting to do it.

[ but his discomfort is obvious, for whatever reason that is... and charles aims a soft smile at him. ]

But alright, you don't like being touched, I'll remember that. Sorry, didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.

[nilhilistic]

It is not you.

[ he pauses, trying to put it into words. ]

Where I was raised, touch was . . . dangerous. My siblings used it to kill one another. Or my father did.

As a result, neither my sister and I are demonstrative about . . . affection.

[incorrigibles]

[ it is as if between one heartbeat and the next, charles' expression shifts; goes blank, something flashing in his eyes, sympathy and a terrible kind of understanding and an anger he stamps down nearly immediately; not at rafal, never at rafal.

but he knows a little bit of something about not feeling safe in your own family — there are scars on his back and in his soul that no time will ever erase. ]

... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you remember that. I — [ he pauses, then, swallows. looks down and away. ] I get it. And I'm so fucking sorry you had to grow up in a place like that.

[nilhilistic]

It is not your fault. How were you to know?

[ most people would never touch a fell dragon to begin with. only here would that be a meaningless title.

he softens a touch at the reaction. ]

And it did not turn out so poorly. After all, I am still here.

[incorrigibles]

[ how was he to know? yes, indeed — and yet, he feels bad regardless, almost as if the fact that they have at least some similarity in their experiences should have been obvious to him, from... something.

still. he aims a soft, earnest smile at rafal. ]

Yeah, you are. [ "so am i," he would say, except he's dead, so. instead, ]

But I'll remember it. I won't touch you without warning, from now on, I promise.

[nilhilistic]

[ hm. he wonders if he should say more but he dismisses it. no need to plague charles with his issues. ]

It is already forgotten. Pay it no mind.

[incorrigibles]

[ there's a moment he wonders if rafal is going to say something else — but then he waves the issue away, tucks it into a box, and charles has done the same so many times in the past he doesn't have it in him to try and open the lid again.

but he will remember. ]

Right. Well, I'm gonna work on magic later, so... wanna do something else? [ let's hang out, rafal — ]

[nilhilistic]

Something?

[ rafal looks at him blankly. ]

Ah, a hobby or an interest. I don't have those. Beyond making desserts.

[ he exercised with alfred and did things around the somnius but those were unique situations. where rafal was attempting repatriations. ]