All 23.1 - A Long Dark Night

Rain pelted heavily against the windows of the inn, and occasional flashes of lightning broke the darkness, followed by the rumble of thunder. It was late, very late, and Victor hadn't left his room since they had arrived at sunset, barely outstripping the rain. Lucca hadn't expected anything different though; now that everyone else was long asleep, he knocked gently on the door and let himself quietly in. Looking around the room, he didn't immediately see the older man. It took him a second to see that he was sitting on the floor, propped up in the corner and vaguely looking towards the window some distance away. He was still wearing Cheko's hat of disguise, hiding his now-rather demonic form with his familiar half-elf appearance, and his expression was odd and empty. The druid sat down on the floor nearby, keeping his silence for another few minutes before offering, "How're you doing?" Victor didn't reply or shift his expression or gaze, though he made a vague 'hmn' noise. "...Want to talk about it?" he asked gently; the other man didn't make a response.
They sat in an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the sounds of the rain and thunder. Eventually, Harlequin's voice in Lucca's head piped in, Just have sex with him.
What!? Lucca replied silently with his thoughts, trying to not let his expression give him away. I can't do that! Lookit him! He's in no state; pretty sure that's the last thing I oughtta do.
He's still an incubus. Do you not *remember* how friggen horny you were? You think that got any better? Not to mention he still never really got any lust. Take the pearl off of him, don't talk, don't if-and-or-but, just friggen fuck him without any doubt that it's what you want, and I guarantee it will make him feel at least physically better, which is a start. He made a scoffing noise, I certainly don't need a fucking depressed devil. That's not going to get my 'save the world' agenda any further.
Lucca frowned faintly down at the mask. There were a few long moments as the druid considered the fey's words before he said, ...You've gotta go. Sorry.As he 'spoke' he was already undoing his belt.
Figured, he said dryly, Welp, remember two things: 1) thinking and reasons are for Materians; don't be a fuckin' Materian, and 2) use force. Lust, not love.
Slipping the mask off, he placed it on the floor nearby and tossed his shawl over it in a heap.
Leaning back against the wall once more, Lucca turned his attention back to Victor. When a few more gentle prods to try and get him to speak yielded no results, he finally decided to change course. Back in his own body and so deeply worried about the other man, he didn't feel the faintest glimmer of anything approaching desire, but he recognized that Harlequin did indeed have very good point. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and directed his thoughts towards the memory of their encounter at the beginning of the body swapping ordeal, hoping to find a spark of what he had felt then before he began. The minutes ticked by in heavy silence, broken only by the sounds of thunder and lashing rain.
Biting his lip slightly, hoping he wasn't about to do something seriously stupid, Lucca moved to kneel in front of the other man. He slowly reached out to cup Victor's chin, gently turning his head so he was in his line of sight. Though his current appearance gave no indication of it, Lucca could feel the stubble that had grown over the last week on his face. "Hey..." with a faint, shaky attempt at a smile, "..C'mere." Victor's gaze finally drifted back somewhat from space, mainly to give a look of confusion. He stood up, pulling Victor to his feet with him, to which he responded sluggishly and with a vague 'what?'.
Lucca went to take his hands and move them, but he flinched them backwards. With a downcast gaze and unattached affect, Victor said very quietly, "I clenched my hands, a few times, without thought..." He twisted his hands back and forth, the magical illusion revealing nothing; it seemed to take him a second to register why he wasn't seeing anything amiss, at which point he pressed his hand against the wall, leaving a bloody smear where he had placed his palm.
Lucca looked down at his hands, despite knowing he wouldn't see anything different. "...Oh...what have you done...?" He muttered sadly, more to himself than the other man. He held out his hands and looked up at him once more, continuing, "Let me fix them." He held out his palms, expression still detached and even, as Lucca cast a healing spell.
When it was finished, Victor inclined his head slightly, "Thank you. I'll endeavour to not do it again." He sat back down and returned to looking at the rain hitting the window, and as he did, he held his hands somewhat peculiarly, ensuring to keep his fingertips held outwards. "...You should sleep," he said, voice still quiet. "It's very late, and you weren't sleeping well."
"Don't give me that...you know I can't sleep at a time like this anyway..." He reached to take his hands once more, but Victor recoiled again, wrapping his arms around himself protectively, grabbing his own elbows, and drawing his knees in as well.
"Please don't," he said, flatly but barely above a whisper, gaze still distant. "I'm fine...I just need to adjust..."
"Don't give me that horseshit, old man. You're not and we both damn well know it. Don't lie to me. Or to you." Lucca leaned in towards him and caught his chin once more, "Now, c'mere." He hesitated for a second, then leaned closer and closed the space between them, pressing his lips to the older man's.
This had the effect of actually grabbing Victor's attention; he pulled back, face confused. "What..."
Cutting him off, Lucca said, "You don't gotta talk. I don't want you to think. Just do." As he spoke, he reached up to brush some hair out of his face, sliding his hands around to the back of his neck. 
If nothing else, this had managed to break Victor's overwhelming detachment. He tried to back away some, but he had effectively trapped himself in the corner of the room. As he felt Lucca's fingers begin to touch the clasp of the pearl necklace, his hand flew up to catch the other's. "What are you doing?" his tone was odd for him: confused, with a strange hint of vulnerability; he lacked the firmness of authority he usually conveyed. 
"You know damn well what I'm doing, old man; this ain't your first time out. S'what I always do: helping." He squirmed one of his hands out of his grasp and went for the clasp once more. "And you're not listening. I told you not to think. Just trust me. Come on." As he spoke, he guided his other hand down to his hips and leaned in again. Victor's protest was weak, as though he didn't particularly have the strength or energy to argue. Lucca undid the clasp and pulled away the moon pearl; as it fell away from Victor's neck, he shuddered and made a noise partway between a growl and a low moan. Within seconds, he leaned forwards, returning Lucca's gestures of affection with a hungered passion.
----
The pair lay on the floor beneath the window, watching the rain that continued to pour under a blanket that had been pulled from the nearby bed. Victor hugged Lucca closely, who lay half on top of him, and he played idly with his hair with his one free hand. Lucca could feel Victor's tail wrapped around his leg, the tip flicking back and forth as idly as his hand. In a tranquil half-doze, the druid slowly traced little circles and patterns across Victor's skin with his fingertips.  It was a very long time before either of them broke the silence.
"Talk to me, big guy. Tell me what's goin' on in there." Lucca murmered softly, not opening his eyes.
"...Nothing," he replied after a short pause, seeming to be considering the raindrops.
"Oh bullshit. Don't even, dude." He said softly, without any hint of irritation, "Come on, spill."
He replied slowly, his voice still quiet, "Dodging the question would be very hypocritical of me." He added, with a hint of smugness, "I'm actually being a facetious ass." He exhaled slowly, "I am thinking, about nothing."
Opening one eye a crack, Lucca tilted his head up slightly to look at him. After a few beats, he pressed, "Care to elaborate? Please?"
Victor lay quietly for what felt like a long time. Eventually, he said, voice insubstantial, "There's nothing worth elaborating on. There's nothing to be done; nothing to be changed. Just reminders. Reminders of things that were and will be, reminders I would have been happier without. But they are what they are, and they will be put away like all bad memories and fruitless thoughts." He ran the edge of his claw over his thumb thoughtfully. "I should get a better disguise; one that actually changes my form."
Lucca closed his eyes and settled against Victor's chest once more as he considered this. After a little while, he asked, "What do you mean, 'will be'?" He paused for a few beats before continuing gently, "What did you remember?"
Once more, a reply was long in coming, "Nothing." He elaborated after a few more seconds, unbidden, "Events, without context. Emotions, without knowledge. Places. Nothing useful. Nothing solid." He added, almost inaudibly, "Nothing that's good to think about."
It was some time before Lucca spoke up again, his tone a gentle murmur. "Tell me about it? Why's it bother you so bad? It's clearly hurting you like fuck...there's no way it can be good to try to bury this shit." As he spoke, he twined a lock of Victor's hair around his fingers, "Lemme help."
"...There's little sense depressing you as well..." He sighed, "I should have...dealt with each memory properly as it came, rather than hoping that they would vanish when we were set right. That was foolish, of me." He let his arms fall to his sides, "There is little to do but bury them. They are pointless thoughts to have, like mulling over one's own death. They are pointless to dwell on." 
"Oh don't even. We've been over this before," Lucca opened his eyes and rolled over to face the other man. Stroking his bangs back from his face, he continued earnestly, "I'm gonna be worried, and upset, and all that crap one way or another. I can't help it. Might as well let me know what the problem is, and see if I can't help you with it, right? I want to. I know if you just try and bury this shit as is, it's only gonna fester, and that's bullshit. You don't deserve that, and you sure as hell don't let me pull that sorta thing. There's nothing stopping us from dealing with them now, is there? So come on, tell me? Please?" He finished with an imploring look.
Victor closed his eyes and exhaled heavily through his nose, his mouth a thin line. After a few breaths, he sat up, curling in on himself; he drew his legs and tail inward, and leaned forward into his hands. When he touched his face, he flinched slightly before covering his nose and mouth, eyes still closed. He muttered something into his hands that was inaudible; Lucca pressed him to repeat, so he brought his hands down and said quietly, "I'm not used to the beard. I'm not used to any of it, yet." A vague whisper of a grin passed his mouth as he said, "Remember, years and years ago, when I didn't realize I was half-elf? I spent hours with a mirror after that, looking at my ears; they were so foreign. I thought I was human. A devil, certainly, at some time and in some capacity, maybe, but I was a human now. I knew that, and it's funny, that even from then, I was never correct. When the Kamuns' confirmed that I was a devil, it was...uncomfortable, because, it was more proof that I wasn't really human. But it was simple to ignore. I was still human now. I would have a life, and it would end, like all lives do, and I would go to the afterlife; the only difference being that I knew what plane I was destined for." He paused, and took a few deep breaths. He clenched and unclenched his fingers oddly, obviously trying hard not to gouge himself mistakenly again as he clutched his elbows. "Now, it is impossible to ignore. My body is foreign, and cruel, and certainly not human. That...isn't the problem. I will adjust. But it is a reminder of the problem. It would not be terrible, by itself, but I can't look at or touch myself without being reminded of the memories. They're worse. They are fragments. They are incomplete. But they are mine. And they make...a picture I do not want to look upon." He paused again to take a few breaths, before continuing, his voice lower but more anxious, "...Virgil will die. You will die. You will have your lives, like you should, and when you die, you'll be born again elsewhere, starting anew. I won't. I will return to Hell, but I won't be dead. I won't start a new life. I will merely continue my old one. The life I can remember parts of, now."  He looked up, into the distance, "I remember nothingness. I remember dark rooms. I remember barren land. I remember an emptiness of purpose and life. ...And I remember battle. I remember duels. I remember wars. I remember bloody combat with man and animal, both mortal and not." As he spoke, he began to shake, and there was fear and sorrow in his voice as he continued. "I remember what eternity feels like, Lucca. What it feels like to exist in the outer planes where nothing changes. And it feels like the cellar. When my life here ends, I will return to where my memories, Victor's memories, begin. Where there is no time and no meaning and no one, and where the only thing to remind me that I still exist at all is blood and violence. I wondered how I didn't go insane, in the cellar, and now I know it's because that's where I've always been, living in silence and surrounded by death. It's where I will go back." He barely whispered, sinking into his hands again, "And it will be all the worse, because now I will remember a time when there was something else."
Lucca had shifted to a kneeling position when Victor had moved. He sat listening to him with his arms wrapped tightly around himself, rubbing absently at his chest, his expression a growing look of horrified heartache. There was a long moment before he answered, shaking his head weakly. "Oh...no...no, Victor...that's...no..." He paused and took a breath, continuing with growing conviction, "...No. No way. Fuck that. I don't accept." He leaned forward, taking gentle hold of the other man's shoulders and staring into his face earnestly, "You don't have to go back to that. You're not going to. I wont let that happen. No fucking way. We're both ascendants...you told me we can change worlds, fate, spit in the face of death...then we can change this. And we're gonna. I'm not letting you go back to that bullshit; I promised myself years ago I wouldn't let you feel anything like that ever again, if I could help it...I stand by that. We'll find a way to change it, I swear. I'll do whatever it takes. Even if the only thing I can do is make sure you don't have to face it alone, to be with you through it, I will. I'll go with you, I will do whatever I have to, I promise you this. You are not going back to that. I wont let you. I swear." As he finished, his voice was to quaking, his eyes beginning to glisten.
Victor looked back up at him, and though his eyes were full of tears, he managed a weak smile. He brought his hand to Lucca's face and brushed his cheek with his thumb. "I don't wish Hell on you, Lucca. That would be horrible of me. Don't ruin your life with thoughts like that. It is fine. Honestly. I will be fine. Remember that I only have fragments. I don't even know my name, so I certainly don't remember everything. Even now, there are pieces that don't fit. It...might not be what I imagine. Riast knows I've worried over nothing before. In any case, I am worrying about my afterlife. There is no sense in it, no sense in either of us thinking about it. No one should concern themselves with that, neither you nor I. I will return to Hell, and there is nothing to change that. I could delay it. I could find some way to live a thousand years, but eventually, I will return there. Maybe it's not what I imagine, with what little memory I have. Maybe I could leave, maybe I could change things. I don't know. You don't know. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. I won't let it ruin the life I have now, as much as I could let it hang over me. Don't let it trouble you either."
Closing his eyes with a hard swallow, Lucca leaned into his hand for a moment. "I know. I know you'll be fine...you're a tough old bugger, you always end up being fine....but you're not right now." He moved to pull Victor into a tight hug, adding softly, "And I don't blame you, it's fucking scary as all shit. I stand by what I said: I ain't lettin' you face this crap alone, whether it be these memories and fears, or Hell itself...I'm here."
"I know," Victor said quietly, returning the embrace. He held his shoulder with one arm and his head with his opposite hand, hair through his fingers, as his tail wrapped around them both. "I know. Because you're my Lucca, the one who pulls me from the dark and silence."
Squeezing him tighter, the druid nodded firmly and stroked his hair, murmering simply, "For always." They held each other for a long time, the rain falling rhythmically against the walls and window. Eventually, they leaned back against the bed, still wrapped in the blanket and each other.
"...I remember snow," Victor said without warning, breaking the silence. He continued to hold Lucca and spoke quietly, his voice even again, more his own. "One doesn't really think about snow existing in Hell, but there is. Endless plains and mountains of snow. It's probably cold, but I don't remember. Just the snow and the ice and the wind." He looked thoughtful as he added, "I like the snow." He sat quietly for another moment before continuing, "I remember a blonde man. Something about him reminds me of you...or maybe you remind me of him. I don't know why though. All I really know that is that he smiles. Always smiling, whether he's happy, or angry, or sad. I remember him fighting, beside me, but I don't know what we were fighting or why; the odds are against him, but he's still smiling. I don't know who he is. Maybe he's a friend, maybe he's a brother, maybe he's my vassal. I don't remember. Just that he was always smiling." He grinned slightly, "I think he was an idiot. The good sort of idiot, though." Becoming more serious again, he continued, "I remember a girl. She's...young. And bright, and likes animals and people and life. I remember...protecting her? But I don't know why. Was she my daughter? I don't think so...but I don't remember enough. Only that she was there, and needed to be protected." He traced gentle lines down Lucca's shoulder with his fingertips, "I don't remember ascending. I remember...stopping something. I had to do something. Like the All, something needed to be done, and it was me who had to do it. But what needed to be stopped I don't remember. ...There are humans. So many humans and hobgoblins in the little fragments I have. Why does my memory have mortals? Was I doing something here, on Materia? Why would I be here before? They are mortals, the blonde man and the girl, I think. Who are they, and why do I remember them? ...They make more questions than answers, the man, the girl and the snow. But they are not bad memories. Hopeful. They let me hope I'm wrong, and hope that I'm missing more important pieces."
"That's weird..." Lucca replied thoughtfully, " 'specially 'cause you talk like the blonde idiot and the girl were super important, like friends or family or something, but you don't even think they're devils. And like, you don't mention any other devils at all...it's like..." He shook his head slightly, continuing optimistically, "It's just weird. But I'm glad that not all those memories are awful. I'm glad there's hope." He gave a soft, amused snort, "You still totally sound like the silly geezer I know from them though: protectin' people, takin' on huge responsibilities, hangin' out with idiots. That's just like you."
Smiling vaguely, he replied, "I suppose that's a comfort, that maybe I'm not too different. Just monochromatic. And with possibly the most pointless and obnoxious appendage." He lifted the end of his tail from beneath the edge of the blanket to look at it. "I mean, honestly, why? What benefit could this possibly serve? I can't wear any of my pants without tailoring them now, and for what?" he asked with slight mock outrage.
Lucca blinked at the sudden change of topic, then, with a faint, mischevious smirk reached out to gently grasp the tail. He slowly drew his hand down its length, catching the spaded tip at the end and stroking it with his thumb. "Well, it does that, sooo...I'ma guess that's 'what for'," he said teasingly with a slight chuckle, adding, "I dunno, I think its pretty cool, as far as tails go. I like it."
Victor's eyes closed as he savoured the touch, then said with his grin, "Nonsense. Pure nonsense." As he coiled it back along Lucca under the blanket, he asked conversationally, "In the interest of assuming nothing, are you intending to continue this?" He relaxed against the edge of the bed, "I don't want to do anything you're not interested in, I don't want you thinking you need to sustain me or some such thing, and I want you feeling neither obligated, offended or awkward. It's not like I can't find other partners."
The druid blinked and lifted his head look at him uncertainly for a long moment, "I...honestly haven't given it any thought..." He rested his head against Victor once more and was silent for a while, thinking. Eventually, he offered almost shyly, "I wouldn't be opposed to it, no. I think...I would probably like to, yeah. And no, don't worry, I don't feel obligated or awkward or any of that crap. But it's up to you too, though...I...we don't have to...if you'd rather," he gave a slight shrug.
Victor laughed softly. "Lucca, I gladly lay with people who aren't my species, whom I've never met before. Why for a second would I rather not with someone whom I love and care about quite deeply?"
With a small sound, Lucca looked up at him again, blushing darkly. As he stared at Victor, the look in his eyes was searching and almost vulnerable; Victor returned his gaze serenely in response, still smiling knowingly. After a few moments, Lucca made to answer, but couldn't seem to find the words. He instead dropped his gaze once more with a slight shrug, eventually mumbling, "Fuckin' hell old man...the shit you say sometimes...frig..."
Still smiling and chuckling softly, he said, "Oh, my poor little Lucca. I'm sorry my words are always so trying." He brushed the other man's hair back and whispered, "Always is a very long time, to have to listen to them. Always is a dangerous thing to say, to someone who won't die."
At this, the mock-irritated face he had been making vanished, replaced by an almost solemn expression. He looked up at Victor once more, "Yeah, I guess it is. Don't matter. I still mean it, a hundred percent."
"Of course you do. You never mean anything less." He leaned forwards and kissed the top of his head; he whispered 'My Lucca,' almost inaudibly, into his hair. At this the the druid nuzzled against him slightly, hugging him close once more. Leaning back, Victor's eyelids were beginning to droop; it was very late, and dawn was threatening to break in but a few hours.
It was a little while longer before Lucca broke the silence, murmering softly, "You need to sleep. We both do. Should get in the bed or something; gonna wake up sore if you sleep sittin' like this." As he spoke, he began untangling himself from the other man, moving with no small reluctance. 
Already appearing mostly asleep, Victor made a muttering noise and leaned over heavily, laying back down on the floor and trapping Lucca in a tangled hug of sorts amid the blankets. "G'night..." he muttered, not particularly awake.
Lucca chuckled softly, making no attempt to protest as he was pulled to the floor," 'G'night' yourself, ya big fool." After a moment spent extricating one of his hands, he cast a simple spell on the sleeping man with a murmer and a subtle gesture, one that would allow his dreams to make up for his lack of dinner. He stretched up to place a light kiss between his brows, whispering, "Sleep well." Then, curling up tightly against him, Lucca tucked his head under Victor's chin and within moments joined him in sleep.
----
Victor awoke with the feeling of eyes on the back of his head. He saw morning light streaming over the floor from the window; apparently the storm had broken, and the day promised to be bright and clear. Gathering his bearings, he found himself on the floor of the hotel room, tangled in blankets and Lucca's limbs and hair. Slowly, he twisted his neck around to look behind him without disturbing Lucca, and he saw Virgil, laying on the bed with his face and arms hanging over the edge, staring quietly. He had a look of wary apprehension on his face. "Good morning, Virgil," Victor said quietly.
"Are you feelin' better?" he asked just as quietly, as Victor gently and slowly extricated himself from Lucca, trying his best not to wake him. The druid stirred slightly and put up some resistance, but did not awaken.
"...Yes, I think I'm a bit better," Victor replied, giving him a vague yet reassuring smile. 
"Really?" Virgil wasn't convinced. 
"I'm probably not all better," Victor said, sitting up, "but I'm better than before." 
"Sure?"
"I'm sure." After Victor replied, Virgil stuck both of his arms out, prompting his father to lean over and accept his son's hug. "I'm sorry I've been so sad. I must've been worrying you."
Virgil nodded his head into his father's neck. "You don't like shapeshifty stuff like Lucca does. You didn't get fixed when you got put back right, so, I worried that...that you'd..." he trailed off.
"It's alright. It's just something I have to get used to, that's all. I will be fine. Everything is fine."
"...I love you."
"I love you too, Virgil."
The boy pulled back onto the bed and looked scrutinously at Victor. "Can I touch 'em?" he asked, pointing at Victor's horns. With a subtle eye roll, he leaned forwards, and Virgil scooted forward to kneel on the bed, first touching them lightly, then rubbing them between his fingers, and finally giving one a slight tug.
Victor's expression was even, "Please don't yank my head, Virgil."
He brought his hands back into his lap and asked, "Do they come off?"
"No," he replied bluntly, sitting back upright. "Horns don't come off."
"Deer horns come off," he said matter-of-factly.
Opening his mouth to retort, Victor stopped himself. After looking thoughtful for a moment, he consented, "You're right, they do. Those are antlers though, not horns, but I honestly don't know what the difference is. You'll have to ask Lucca when he wakes up."
"Why's he sleepin' in here?" Virgil asked. "He hates sleepin' with people. That's why he never stays with the Doamanyoya."
"We were talking until very late, and he fell asleep in here with me," he explained politely. Virgil nodded, accepting this reasoning completely. 
As the two talked, Lucca stirred, his brows furrowing as he felt around for the other man. "Mmmmh. Where'd ya go?" He mumbled groggily after a few moments, his eyelids fluttering open. Catching sight of Victor, he began to demand he come back, only then noticing the intruder. With a strangled yelp, he dove back under the blankets, a muffled groan of, "Awww man, Virgil!" escaping the heap.
"Good morning," he said politely. "M'sorry I woke you up." He crossed his legs, "What's the difference between antlers and horns?"
After a few beats of silence, Lucca's head popped back out of the blankets, looking strangely sheepish and a touch confused. "Is cool, dude. Um," he paused to get his bearing before answering, "Antlers and horns...well...they're entirely different structures, right? Like, an antler is straight up separate bone that grows in a special spot and is made to fall off each year, yeah? While a horn is two parts, and one is straight up part of the skull bones, so its made to stay on forever and keep growing. And then the outside material is different too, antlers have velvety skin, horns have like...fingernail stuff. Make sense?"
Virgil considered this, and nodded. "Why make 'em different if they do the same things? Like, they're both for fighting, right?"
"Um...yeah, but the animals don't really wanna fight if they don't gotta, right? So the antlers are more like, a symbol. They grow each year, so if you grow really good ones, it means you're super tough and healthy that year, and nobody will wanna fight you in the first place, when fighting time comes. Plus everyone will think you're more awesome. Horns...the guys that have those sometimes need 'em for other things, all year long and if you grow 'em forever, it shows how awesome you are in the long run, not just that year...and...other stuff...I just woke up though, dude." He finished with a crooked smile
Nodding, he added, "An' those are horns, not antlers, right?" pointing at Victor's head; he pursed his lips slightly at being an example.
"Yup, those're definitely horns, not antlers. No question there." Lucca nodded firmly.
Virgil nodded in understanding. With that settled, he fidgeted a bit, looking uncomfortable. "...What is it, Virgil?" Victor asked.
He fiddled a bit more, looking up and down, before finally venturing, "We'll...um...Lucca n' I were wonderin' what the line on your face is, 'n, I didn't ask you 'cause you were upset, but, if you're feelin' better...do you know what it is?" He offered, "It looks like ink, like someone tried to draw a scar on." Victor looked uncomfortable and touched his cheekbone. "I'm sorry! I..." Virgil started.
Victor cut him off, "It's fine. I'm fine." He tapped his face thoughtfully, trying to think. "It's...not a scar, I think. I think it's just a mark."
"Like a stripe?"
"No...no, I think it was put there. Maybe, it's...like a tattoo?"
"Why would you tattoo a stripe on your face?"
"I don't remember...I don't think I did..."
Virgil's eyes widened, "You remember stuff??" He sat forwards, and asked excitedly, "What do you remember? Do you remember your name? Where you lived?"
"Hey Virg, I didn't tell you the story about the last echo we went to, yet, did I?" Lucca suddenly interrupted loudly, his tone a touch overenthusiastic, "It wasawesome. There was this huuuge crab, and it beat a giant snake up using a mountain."
"How did a crab beat up a snake with a mountain??" he asked, whipping about to look at Lucca incredulously, utterly thrown off track.
"He will tell you after you have had breakfast, brushed your teeth and are ready to go," Victor said.
"I'm ready!" Virgil whined. Victor looked at him flatly for a few seconds. "...Fine..." Virgil rolled his eyes, then added, smiling, "Butcha gotta tell me after!" With that he hugged his dad again, "Don't be sad. S'just shapechangy stuff," and hopped off the bed and scooted away.
Watching the boy scamper out of the room, Lucca shook his head slightly. A small, bemused smile played on his lips as he muttered, "The hell did he get in here in the first place? Little bugger." Stifling a yawn as he stretched, Lucca added, "Speaking of breakfast..." He shot Victor a pointed look, "We should get in on that business." He started disentangling himself from the blankets, stopping with a frown after a few moments, "...where the hell are my pants?"
Victor sat still as this happened, looking distant and vaguely anxious. Without warning, he grabbed Lucca's arm and pulled him into a hug. The druid made a soft, suprised sound, slipping his arms around the other man to return the embrace and gently stroking his back. He held him there for a few long seconds, and Lucca could feel him take deep breaths, setting his jaw. With a sigh, he released him and looked about. "I think they're over there," he pointed. With a bit of a frown, he added, "Until I have my pants fitted, I'm going to have to keep wearing that pair of Cress'. Who among us even has tailoring skill? I can't really walk into a normal tailor..."
Lucca glanced in the indicated direction, but made no move to retrieve the garment. "Um, I really have no idea...I mean, I can sew a bit...not fantastic, but enough to get by in a pinch. I can't speak for anyone else though. I'll take a crack at it, if you'd like; if there ain't someone better." Turning back to Victor, he reached up to touch his cheek, looking at him with gentle concern, "You sure you're alright?"
He made a wry face and replied, "As much as I would like nothing more than to hide alone in a small room for months, that will not defeat the All, will not be accepted by you, and would be unthinkably horrid to Virgil. I am not alright, but I will move forward, and alright will come when it does."
With a small, bittersweet smile, Lucca leaned in and pressed his forehead to Victor's, stroking a lock of hair back from his face. "It will." He said firmly, "Sooner than you think, I'm sure." He closed his eyes, and stayed that way for a few moments. Reaching out to take Victor's hand, he got to his feet, pulling him up with him. "Come on, lets get dressed and get outta here. It looks like its gonna be a better day today; the storm's over."
Category:Advent of the All