fabrecation | 006 [Written]

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006 [Written]

[Now that Luke can stay awake for more than an hour, he'd really like to get back to the people of Auldrant as well as the friends he made here in Luceti. He still can't hear anything, but... well, maybe no one has to know that. As long as they don't try talking to him, he'll be fine.

And being bedridden for these past few days has been extremely boring.

So, he grabs his journal and writes.]

Hey... I'm back.

[... Yup. Not much to expand on there. So let's go on.]

Anyone have any good stories to tell? Or... Actually, what's the most fun you've ever had? Here or in your world.

[Filtered to Asch; 15% Unhackable]

Asch, can I talk to you?

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[It takes some dragging for Luke to understand what's going on.]

... I can stay awake!

[Guy folds his arms and gives Luke a Look.]

[And Luke puts his fists on his hips and gives a Look back.

... Which is ruined by a yawn he tries to hold back.]

[Yeah.

Guy pushes Luke hard enough to send him back onto the couch. He then goes about mothering him, adjusting the blanket and such so he's completely covered, even heading off to fetch Luke another and rearranging the pillows for maximum comfort.]

H-Hey!

[It's too late. There's no stopping Guy when he's in mom mode, and Luke knows it. Besides, he is pretty tired; he can barely keep his eyes open even as Guy continues to mother him.

It's not long until he curls up a little, snuggles into the blankets and pillows, and drifts off to sleep.]

[Don't act like a little kid and he won't treat you like one. 8| Besides, Tear isn't around to do her own share of mothering so it's up to Guy to pick up the slack.

Once Luke is sound asleep though, Guy heads back over to the door to pull on his coat, boots and scarf. He jogs through the falling snow to Asch's apartment, blowing on his hands to keep them warm as his cheeks pink from the cold.

He hopes it isn't a mistake.

Once he reaches Asch's door he lifts a hand to knock...and presses his palm to the door instead. He could just turn around and leave. He hasn't even thought about what exactly he'd say; Asch isn't the type to believe in just words. Asch needed action, needed physical proof to swallow anything.

...but it wasn't his job to convince Asch of anything.

He knocks on the door.]

[It's later on in the day, and Asch certainly hadn't expected any visitors. The knock is a complete surprise, and at first he's tempted to just bitch through the door or stay silent, because it's probably that stupid replica, recklessly coming by to visit like he said he would. But then it occurs to him that maybe Luke or Guy had told Natalia where to find him, or someone else uninvolved with any feuding is here. It's probably worth it to at least check.

He heads over to the door, trying to keep his footsteps light, though it's probably a lost cause anyway. Rather than opening the door outright, he checks the apartment's peephole first.

....Oh.]

[Guy heard footsteps behind the door but when it doesn't open, he knows Asch probably isn't going to let him inside.

Just as well. It's not as difficult this way.

Guy leans to rest his forehead against the door with a soft thud, sliding his hands into his coat pockets.]

...I don't know if you're still there Asch, but it's fine if you don't want to let me in. I know I said I wouldn't come by again, after all. I'll just talk...and you can leave if you don't want to listen.

[Guy takes a breath and closes his eyes. He's silent for a moment, just long enough to give Asch time to walk away if that's what he wants.]

[It's tempting, so tempting to just do what Guy said he could- walk away, hide in his room and cover his ears. Shut it all out and pretend it's not happening. It's worked out so far, more or less; being away from the house, and away from Guy and the others, had always been a decent enough tactic for distraction. When he has other things to do, he doesn't have to think about how far away they seem, or how unwillingly lonely he's been. It's annoying, and he hates feeling that way.

Now, though, he's certain that if he just leaves, he'll wonder about what Guy has to say, and it'll bother him, more and more until he's driven to frustration about it. He doesn't want to think about Guy more than he has to. Not like that.

So he finally turns around, resting his back against the door, and waits. He'll hear Guy out... for now.]

[The door shudders slightly; he's staying.

Guy opens his eyes.]

You and I are so similar that I can't believe it sometimes. We've lost everything when we were children. We hurt the people we can because we can't hurt the people actually responsible for that loss. We run away from things that frighten us because we both know how to cope, and it's worked for years so why bother to try something new?

I'm...afraid of dredging up those feelings. I put revenge behind me; I'm afraid that if I talk about it now, all of that hate will come back. I was so angry...every day, I was so angry and hurt. I know you know how that feels. I don't want to go back to feeling that way; I'm happy pretending it doesn't exist.

...but that's made me hurt someone I've come to care for very much, and that isn't acceptable. I need to change myself to keep that from happening.

[Guy pauses; that was the easy part. Now comes the difficult part.]

And you need to do the same.

I can adjust my behavior a thousand times to suit your needs, but it wouldn't be the truth. It would be the same as before, the same lies, the same deception. It would be like back in the manor, when you thought I was your friend.

I love Luke; I raised him, and he pulled me away from a path that would've ended in a lot of bloodshed, not to mention my own. He's precious to me. Maybe you could have done the same, given enough time, but circumstances didn't allow it. It's pointless to speculate. And I- [Guy grits his teeth and lifts a fist to bang against the door.] I hate your father. I can accept that he was only doing his duty to his country, and I can accept he might even regret it now. But I still hate him.

And I see him in you; in your hair, your eyes, on your face. Sometimes even in the way you talk, or the way you act. I see it and I hate him all over again; something happens to upset me, and when I look at you I see him. It's so easy to just...hate him again, to blame him for everything that makes me hurt. But it's not him that I'm hurting when I lash out. It's you.

That...that's the part of me I'm trying to change. It's...hard. I don't know how to do it, but I'll find someone who does and I'll beg them for help, if I have to. I don't expect you to wait around for me to do this either, but I need your understanding. If anything else, I need someone who understands how a person can feel that angry about something. And I need you to understand that Luke took me away from that.

That doesn't make him a replacement for you. You're unique to me; you fulfill things in my life that no other person can do. To listen to me when I'm angry, to know when I'm upset...to be there when I can't be myself... There isn't anyone else that I can trust with this. Luke can't understand; he's too kind. I need you for that. I need you for that.

And you- you accomplish nothing by removing yourself from everyone. You run because it's easier, because you know how to be alone and even if you hate it, it's what you can do. You hide yourself away because it's comfortable, even if it hurts. But you also know what it's like to support people and be supported, and I know you. If you remove yourself from that you'll wither away. You need to come back home.

[Guy's fist uncurls and he lays his palm flat against the door.]

I'm not asking you to come back to me. There's a chance...there's a chance that we might not ever be "us" again. But I'm going to move forward with changing myself regardless of whether or not we get back together, and I'm not going to think about what might or might not happen.

...I hope you come home. If you take anything from what I've said, take this: I want you to come home.

[Guy's hand slides from the door and he shoves it back into his pocket. He closes his eyes again, sighs, then pushes off the door and heads back into the snow.]

[Asch remains by the door till long after Guy leaves, staring at the floor so intensely he may as well be banging his head against it. There's a lot of truth to what Guy says, and a lot of it isn't something Asch wants - or wanted - to hear. He knows his fists were clenching a few times as Guy spoke.

But they softened sometimes, too. His throat hurt, his eyes burned, and every now and then his hand hovered close to the knob as if to open it.

"I need you for that."

"You'll wither away."

It's hard to listen, let alone accept it. The idea of being around Guy every day, keeping his distance - or not? Were they not supposed to, even if that's the reason he left in the first place? Why would Guy want him back, after all that? And if they didn't work things out, why would he ever want to continue to live in a house with so many memories? There's a reason he's always vowed to never live in Fabre Manor again, after all. He hates old, pointless memories, and he hates regret even more. He doesn't want to live with that.

"I want you to come home."

...Why?

He remains frozen in place for a very long time. Then, when he finally forces himself to move, he goes straight to the bedroom he'd claimed as his own, flops into bed, and curls up in the blankets, gazing thoughtfully into the dark.

He won't be sleeping much tonight.]

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006 [Written]

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