Presage

[Existentially Odd]

When Kerr left the doctor\'s surgery, his positive mood continued.  He didn\'t have a cure necessarily, but he\'d certainly taken two great leaps towards wholeness this evening; he\'d had the magic binding his tattoos removed and was now the owner of one small bottle of pills, gripped firmly in his cold hand - pills that would make him groggy and help him sleep (he hoped).  Why not go for the trifecta?  Things seemed to be working out well, he was already feeling more normal (even though the haze of sleep deprivation hadn\'t left and was still always there, burning behind his eyeballs) and there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

He got into his car, tossed the pill bottle negligently onto the passenger seat beside him and did a speedy U-turn on the street.  He was now aimed directly for the Capital Building, and Ben.  It was almost a month since he\'d seen him... would it be strange?  Would he have changed?  Kerr\'s hair (now dry) was pulled back into a pony tail and he was dressed in some of the clothes he\'d taken the night he left - Ben would recognise the black slacks and shoes but he might not necessarily have seen the white, long sleeved shirt with the black words scribbled randomly over it, paying homage to some sort of surf brand or other - with the shirt untucked, but he wasn\'t any different, otherwise.  Just inside.

Real.  He was beginning to feel a bit more real, that was what it was.  All this positive action was doing him good, he could spend time in the apartment with Ben and speak civilly with him now, he was sure of it (though part of him hoped the blonde simply wouldn\'t be home).  The way things were... there was no sort of resolution, it was just left hanging and he\'d not taken any of Ben\'s calls to help things along.  He hadn\'t been able to face it, even though it had been all he\'d thought about.  Ironic, really.

Still... not tonight.  Tonight, he was better.  It was only approaching midnight, he\'d been efficient and proactive and he could do this.  Besides, he needed more clothes.  He\'d been so upset the night he\'d packed that he\'d grabbed a whole lot of the wrong stuff and not enough of what he\'d really need - underwear and shorts, basically.  He could\'ve bought more, certainly, but it had just been easier to go without.  It wasn\'t like he\'d had to dress up for anything; Mandy certainly wasn\'t averse to him getting around the house wearing jeans alone.

This was his opportunity to fix that, though - the easy way, where he didn\'t have to wade into crowds of mortals that hammered him with their inane thoughts and erratic heartbeats just to shop for new apparel.  He would go up to the apartment, speak rationally with Ben (trading simple courtesies and a bit of small talk where he disclosed where he was living now, just to be fair, in his mind) and grab the rest of his clothing.  There shouldn\'t be too much to worry about this night, for he was docile with lack of sleep and empowered by his accomplishments so far.  He was ten foot tall and bulletproof, Ben wouldn\'t make him waver, everything would be fine.

Kerr parked in his usual space beneath the building and headed for the lift.  He was confident as he punched the button that would take him to his

Ben\'s

... Ben\'s floor, and he leaned nonchalantly against the back of the lift.  The wallet in his back pocket made this a little awkward but was not a grand issue; he fiddled with his keys as he watched the lights blink on and off in ascending order.  The closer he got, the more nervous he became but he told himself that was perfectly acceptable.  It had been almost four weeks, after all, some trepidation was to be expected.  When the lift doors slid open, he moved without thinking, giving himself a pep talk the entire way.  The door was before him before he knew it; he slid the key home and paused to square his shoulders, rolling them backwards, once, to loosen the tension.

Resolved, he turned the key and pushed the door inwards, stepping in and withdrawing the key before nudging the wooden portal closed.  He pocketed the jingling bits of metal and looked around, expecting to see changes, fighting with the feeling that he belonged here, that he still lived here... his haunted brown-eyed gaze seeking Ben even though the debate raged within him about whether he wanted to see his lover or not.  Former lover.  Shit.

[Trillian]

For every night that passed and helped Kerr feel more positive and together, the reverse was happening to Ben.  He felt like he was spinning further and further out of control and he had nobody available to ground him.  He\'d never had many friends even when mortal but the only people he knew now were those he couldn\'t go to.  Ichabod.  Mandy.  Lazarus.  Arles.  None of them would make him feel better regardless of their varying and likely receptions.  He didn\'t feel like himself anymore, he felt hollow, wasted, broken.

Having his phone calls ignored didn\'t help.  Every time the phone rang out or he was shunted to voice message was another kick in the gut.  He would spend a long time crying over unanswered calls until the final time when he\'d just stared out the window and craved the pull to Kerr.  He\'d been there so long that the sky had slightly brightened and the roller shutters had slammed down.

If only the numbness had washed over him, things might not be so bad.  Had Lazarus been so wrong in teaching him to desensitise?  He\'d tried so hard, the first time he\'d decided to get over Kerr, before anything really important had happened between them and making it a great deal easier than now, when something had.  The biggest emotion in him now was Despair, with a capital D.  It seemed to rule over him like a king over a well-known land.  He was a beach with a washed out tide, like something had emptied out of him.

Kerr.  Kerr.  How he mooned over his name, his face, the memory of him, his body, his touch, his voice.  He was torturing himself with his need for his sire, for the man who\'d started him on this eternal path in the first place.  He\'d been there at the very beginning of Ben\'s adventure, and now there seemed to be an end.  Only the promise of vast emptiness lay before him now, like a wasteland, and the king that was Despair reigned over it all.

There had been several times when he\'d felt the sensation of Kerr at the door.  Several times when he\'d run to the apartment door and flung it open, launching himself out into the empty corridor.  Several times of looking around himself, bewildered.  It had been the lack of blood, he was sure.  He\'d broken a taboo and fed from his neighbour across the hall.  It had been easy though Ben had been thirsting too badly to make it gentle.  He\'d expected the police to be called for his attack for he had the sense that his neighbour hadn\'t realised what had happened, but no police came.  Lucky.  How could he explain a refridgerator full of animal blood?  He knew he should be more careful but he was feeling not himself lately.  With each night that passed the darkness entered him further.

The sensation of Kerr coming closer penetrated his morose thoughts.  It was hard to ignore, that beckoning, that calling.  It took his attention because it seemed so real.  But why now?  Why simply arrive without taking a call or making one?  No, this was another of his mental trickeries, he would not run to the door and fling it open to find yet another hallway.  Such a thing would eventually destroy him, he knew.  Had he fed tonight?  He couldn\'t remember.  There was the thirst but there was always the thirst, it simply came and went by degress, it was never eliminated completely.

He had to turn his head from the window, he had to.  He found himself looking at the door, staring at wood he now resented.  It hadn\'t ever given him anything good, that door.  Most of the time it led him into broken promises, betrayals, unwanted secrets and now it kept him prisoner in a home with the ghost of Kerr.  How could he move though?  He couldn\'t.  He hoped, still, that Kerr would come through it.

Something compelled him to get up and move to the door, that hated portal of carved wood.  He lay his hands on it, gently, with rising hope despite himself.  Kerr.  He could feel and breathe him on the other side.  Not quite there yet but there.  Close.  He didn\'t want to open the door and destroy this lingering hope that threatened to bring fresh tears to his eyes.  There would be no crying for him now though, there was simply that itch and that hollowness that refused to leave.  It was like his body was crying but his eyes could no longer leak any more tears.  It didn\'t help lessen the despair.

Kerr, he whispered, though it was in his head, every pore of him reaching out and hoping to make a connection.  Please.

[Existentially Odd]

Walking through the door was easy but he flinched visibly when he was met on the other side

Close... he\'s so close, could touch him, I could hug him
Please what? WHAT?
He looks beautifulterrible those eyes
He\'ll see straight through you, like he did when he was...
mine.  Is he still mine?
Don\'t want him!
Don\'t I?
pleasewhatpleasewhatpleasewhat

by the man he\'d decided he was just fine to see again.

But he wasn\'t fine and this wasn\'t easy and he felt freshly humiliated as his gaze hungrily raked over the man standing so bloody close to him... he wanted to hug him.  Knew he shouldn\'t.  He\'d made great advances tonight so far, had taken steps to move beyond... but how could he?  He\'d never move beyond these feelings, this overwhelming love... the devestation that it had brought.  Would he?  It felt as eternal as the two of them were.

"Ben.  Hi," he said awkwardly, fighting the urge to wave, for God\'s sake.  What was wrong with him?  What wasn\'t?  "I... thought I\'d come by and get a few more clothes.  I hope that\'s okay?" he asked, liking the civil tone that was reaching his ears.  He didn\'t sound nearly as desperate as he felt, nor as disparate.  He looked Ben over again, feeling as if he was holding breath he didn\'t need, just because he wanted to hear the man\'s voice again.

Standing before the blonde was surreal.  He looked the same as the image burned into Kerr\'s memory, but different because he hadn\'t actually sighted him in four weeks.  He didn\'t seem too healthy, either, though that didn\'t make a lot of sense to the sire.  There was a yearning flowing from the fledgling that that part f him couldn\'t deny, though.  He was hungry.   Hearing Ben speak would be the thing that brought Kerr perspective (he hoped), for the distance between them was there, yet not and he couldn\'t quite align anything properly.

[Trillian]

He couldn\'t believe his eyes he could only stare, imprinting the vision of Kerr before him into his memory, burning it in.  The shirt was new, he vaguely registered this but it was immediately unimportant.  This was Kerr, Kerr, finally, oh please was he moving in was he coming back was he was he

No, there was no suitcase and he\'d left with one.  This was just a visit.  Perhaps Kerr wanted to talk things over like he\'d not done so the night he\'d left.  It would be good to talk, to work things out, there could be some form of-

When Kerr spoke Ben\'s mind stopped and he couldn\'t get it going again for a long moment.  The ability to speak left him and he looked at Kerr with an expression that screamed every ounce of the shattered heart in his chest.  With his chin tensing slightly to stop it from wobbling and his eyes glassy with tears that he\'d thought had been cried out entirely, he shook his head no.  No.  It was not okay.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr frowned, blinking back tears that, stupidly, sprang to his eyes only because he could see Ben was so upset.  He needed to stop responding like that, he needed to break away from that, damnit.  Still, it hurt that Ben shook his head no, that it wasn\'t okay he\'d come by.

"Do you want me to go, then?" he asked thickly, confusion and hurt twisting his expression.

[Trillian]

"No!" Ben said in a manner that was exaggerated in its drama.  He was angry all of a sudden, angry at Kerr for not understanding him, angry at himself for doing what he\'d done in the first place.  "Don\'t go.  That\'s the point.  Please."

There it was, that word again, that pleading, soulful, tragic word.  Please.  Please come, please be here, please be real, please stay, please love me.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr swallowed, finding his throat had a lump in it, formed when Ben spoke back to him.  It hurt to swallow, but that just matched everything, didn\'t it?  He did it anyway.  That was the please.  Please be here.

"Alright," he agreed quietly, finding it difficult to maintain eye contact with his fledgling.  Every time he met those silvery eyes, his insides clenched in ways too innumerable to decipher.  Every time, though, without relenting.  He found himself staring at Ben\'s lips instead, speaking to them.

"I... uh... bought a house.  On the beach.  Seventeen ten Patterson Cove Lane," he explained, blinking because he wasn\'t sure why he\'d shared that particular bit of information first... probably because it was the easiest thing to say - certainly easier than asking how he\'d been or explaining how he\'d held his phone like an orphaned child every time Ben had rung, burning to answer, unable to cope with it and died a little death every time it stopped and the word \'Home\' disappeared off the LCD.  Easier than any of that, certainly.

"In case... well... you know," he finished awkwardly, giving a shrug and reaching behind himself to tuck his fingers into the back pockets of his slacks.  It pulled the white shirt taut across his broad chest, the white section over his heart showing that Ben\'s name had disappeared, but he wasn\'t thinking about such things.  He was too busy trying to think of what to say.

[Trillian]

Ben was breathing, he\'d never really learned to stop completely, it was just the odd moment when he would forget.  Even in his sleep, he breathed, his body doing so out of habit rather than necessity.  Now, his breathing grew ragged as Kerr told him about a house that he\'d bought on some street he\'d never heard of to live somewhere without him.

"Why?" he begged, and it was here and now that his youth and inexperience betrayed him.  He\'d never been in a relationship this involved, he didn\'t know how to behave with grace and dignity when his heart felt like it was being ripped out of his chest, he saw no point to it.  His mind had registered - along with the new shirt - that there was something else amiss to Kerr but he hadn\'t realised it yet.  Had he known there was a lack of tattoos he would\'ve understood the severity of their split.  As it was he had an idea, but he didn\'t quite get the finality of it.  "Why didn\'t you talk to me?  Why didn\'t you take my calls?  Why\'d you ignore me for so long?  I don\'t understand.  I know I fucked up but you won\'t even let me say sorry.  Why?"  He\'d reached out for Kerr here, holding his shirt, clinging to him as the half-sobs, half-ragged breaths left his body.  It was more the despair than desperation but unlike Kerr he didn\'t give a shit how it looked.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr blinked as he looked down, his jaw setting so that he didn\'t break down on the spot.  Somewhere, in the back of his mind, something was laughing hysterically at how together he\'d felt he was just a few minutes ago, before he\'d walked in here to this.  His hands closed over Ben\'s forearms in a vice-like grip and he stared at that, at where they were connected, aching to embrace his fledgling even as he was appalled by the fact that those hands were touching him.

After they\'d touched Ichabod.

It gave him a bit more balance, a little bit more decorum, but it was still harder than dying to speak through a mouth that would barely open.  He certainly couldn\'t lift his gaze, just stared at where he was basically pinning Ben against him.  "I told you.  I couldn\'t bear to hear it because it wouldn\'t have changed anything.  You still did what you did, chose who you chose.  Why are you sorry?"  The final question sounded downright airy, conveying the fact that he couldn\'t understand Ben\'s remorse when he\'d advanced with Ichabod of his own free will.  He wanted the mortal, not him, right?

[Trillian]

"Because I didn\'t choose him!" Ben wailed, feeling the harsh grip upon his arms.  How could he explain how he\'d felt about Ichabod now?  How could Kerr believe that not only had he hated Ichabod and himself but he\'d felt compelled to go to him, to abuse him, to weaken him?  He was caught between explaining that he was a cheater or an asshole.  There was remorse, oh God, was there remorse, but he\'d been remorseful at the time.  What hope did Kerr have to trust Ben now?  What faith could his sire demonstrate?  Ben would have to not leave his sire\'s side for a second until that trust was earned again, but he would do that!  He wanted to do that.  Anything.  He wanted to explain but suddenly the anger gave way to Despair once more and he began to cry outright, bowing his head forward and hopefully able to use Kerr\'s shirt to hide his face away.  If not allowed then he would simply cry in front of his once-lover.

How it hurt.  How all of this hurt.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr instinctively moved Ben\'s arms apart so that his face could rest against his chest, unwilling to let his love just hang his head and cry.  In fact, his grip on the blonde\'s arms loosened and moved around him without his consent, his right hand cupping the back of his head and his left sliding down to grasp his shoulder.  Not a full embrace, but something that made Kerr feel a little better, even as the tears came back to him.

"If you didn\'t want him then why... why did you do those things with him?" he implored, his voice cracking with the pain of remembering what he\'d seen, what he\'d felt

the guilt, though
Meant nothing!  He wanted it!
but he was ill

when he\'d broken into Ben\'s thoughts and taken memories he\'d had a perverse right to.

[Trillian]

"To punish him."

No.  No, that was wrong.  Ichabod had been collateral damage in something a great deal more fucked up than that.  Ben had chosen him initially to punish him, but the second time and onward from that had been something far more sinister.  There had been a black undercurrent to everything he\'d done, to the secrets he\'d kept.  There was something wrong with him, wasn\'t there?  Something that Declan had either had happen or brought to the surface, either way, it had happened then.  He\'d been hiding things for a long time.

"To punish myself," he said after a moment and the turmoil inside him seemed to settle momentarily with the honesty in this response.  Yes, yes to punish himself.  This was his punishment, wasn\'t it?  He\'d meant to feel like crap, he\'d meant to get caught.  He\'d escalated things and taken more risks until finally it was over because he\'d been caught, not because he\'d ended it.  That was when the real punishment began.

What the hell was wrong with him?  Was this justification?  Did he think Kerr wouldn\'t want him at some point?  Was this why he\'d done it?  So that way when he was abandoned at least he had a reason for being abandoned?  No, there was more than that too, his insides were coiling and hissing at him.  There was something else, a great deal deeper, a great deal blacker and so much more that he didn\'t understand.

I\'ve ruined it all haven\'t I
you don\'t want me anymore because
there\'s something wrong with me
and you know it now
you can see it every time you look at me
because I ruined it I ruined it
I love you

A small forlorn sound escaped Ben\'s lips as his eyes fell on the place where Kerr\'s tattoo wasn\'t.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr was hit with the despair now, his expression crumpling as he shook his head, hearing the words Ben spoke into his mind but not able to believe in them.  It tore at him, this lack of faith, but it was what he\'d learned; his faith had been misplaced, he\'d trusted Ben and he shouldn\'t have, because Ben had been working behind his back and fooling around with Ichabod the whole time and he\'d had no idea, he\'d been fooled.

To punish him?  To punish Ben?  Because Kerr had slept with him?  Why?

"I don\'t understand," he admitted in a whisper, his voice hoarse and cracking as he bent his head and pressed his lips to Ben\'s hair down at his chest, tears falling with the movement.  "Punish him because I slept with him?" he hazarded, because that was all he could latch onto.  There was so much in these words and thoughts, so much swirling blackness that it was difficult to keep his head above the surface or see anything within it.

[Trillian]

Staring at unmarked flesh that used to bear his name, his stomach sank to a point where a leaden weight replaced it.  There was no redemption, no reconciliation, it was over.  He knew this so completely that it strangely made it easier to talk, though with very little emotion.

"No... I," he paused, thinking it through.  He\'d had a lot to think through in the time Kerr had been away.  Many truths had come to him though slipped away because he\'d not been ready to face them, yet they came, unbidden, if only for a little while so he could stare into the ugliness that they held.  They were a part of his Despair, though not the only reason for it.  "I tormented him because he was weak.  He..." Ben paused for a moment, lifting his gaze from Kerr\'s neck to his eyes.  "Could\'ve been anyone."

If it hadn\'t been over before, it was over now.  Ben had just told Kerr that he would\'ve done those things with any stranger on the street if only for the same results.  Ichabod had been a particularly juicy victim because of the nature of their relationship.  That\'s what had driven him.  The twisted manner of how they knew one another.  It wasn\'t so much that Kerr had slept with Ichabod that it was the aftermath of how Ben and Ichabod interracted.  He could\'ve had the same thing with Mandy.

[Existentially Odd]

Kerr released Ben because it felt strange to hold him now that he was standing straight... now that he was saying words that the Irishman found difficult to understand.  Frankly, he didn\'t understand any of it, but he couldn\'t keep saying that, he\'d look a fool.

His left hand came to rest at his waist, his right smoothing lethargically over his own drawn back hair.  "And... that\'s what you crave?  That\'s all you\'re concerned with?  Weakness?  It didn\'t matter to you that I... don\'t like such things?" he asked softly, feeling stupid for bringing this back to him but he was a part of it.  He deserved to be able to ask where he\'d stood all those times Ben had been dominating a lesser being for the sheer thrill of it... didn\'t he?

If Ben loved him, why hadn\'t he reined himself in at all, out of respect?  Or talked about it?  It was baffling and sickening and the more that was said, the more Kerr wanted the distance he\'d had.  It had, strangely, been less confusing.