[M] Use Somebody (Lars)

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Fionn
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Tue Mar 19, 2019 3:11 pm

Ophus 17, 2718 | Late Evening
Passive Dorms
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"It d - didn't say that. It - it was Lars."

They were odd words to have ringing in his ears, burrowing their way into his brain, something alternative to focus on that could distract him from Jamie's presence and from his own snide, inner voice. They were words that had him thinking, even as he curled further into Lars -

Why don't you put a knee either side of his waist because that's where you really want this to go, isn't it?

- gratified that he seemed to want to be close to Fionn too, not pulling away even though the other passive was there. It was... nice. It wasn't like he was embarrassed or ashamed to be seen with him like this. But it wasn't as if Jamie didn't know what the youngest blond was like so he could draw whatever conclusions he liked, hardly a real consideration when there was Lars and those strange words.

If the young man he was talking to hadn't said those cruel words then who had? Some inner voice? But inner voices didn't come out, they didn't take over your lips and-

But they did sometimes, didn't they? Sometimes there were words, words you knew were crossing your lips but you hadn't said them. Something else, someone else was using your lips, your tongue, your body to act out its will and you were the one left with any blame. "It wasn't me" didn't really cut it when all signs pointed to the contrary. Was that what Lars meant?

"You agree with Lars..."

Again, undeniably he was speaking about himself as if in the third person but this was different than the other times that he disassociated, wasn't it? There was no 'he' but 'I' and 'me'. Was that as much a concern as the rest of what he was saying though, this talk of their doomed relationship and their next steps?

He laughed humorlessly, a hint of bitterness in his tone. "Lars... I'm more than capable of causing myself trouble, I don't need anyone else to land me in it. It's always me, it's always my own fucking fault. And it's why I can't see how this can end well. Everything - every single fucking thing - goes to hell near me, Lars," he remarked, leaning away, dragging a hand through his hair as he sighed.

"I was born and fucked up my family long before they knew I was passive. Before my test, my father could at least keep me at a distance, try to pretend that I was his because I was meant to be the heir but as soon as I tested out, he lost it. I saw some of it and Niamh explained what's happened since. This -"

He pulled a lock of his hair taut, wiggling it up and down.

"This shows that I'm not a Madden, not a true one. No blond in my father's family so... he's not my father. Whole family blew apart 'cos I exist. In the early days in here when I had boys who weren't kicking my erse, who actually wanted to be my friend, well... they ran into accidents. Although... that was probably Ayden. But him, Fred, you... people around me... they don't have a fun time..."

He trailed off, his face pink, all too aware that in Lars' case, he was very much to blame to that one. It had been his fists but it had also been his association. He realised for the first time that he'd known all along that anyone who took an interest in him risked Ayden's wrath. Hadn't he warned Lars to keep his head low? Why? Because he'd known that he'd jump on any excuse. Sure, he'd never thought about it consciously but that didn't mean that he'd been unaware... Maybe even when the parse had gone to work with that golly professor, he'd been paranoid that any friend he made would meet misfortune at the young man's hands.

The thought made him feel sick.

"I just... expect everything to end badly because... I exist," Fionn admitted, his gaze low, unable to look the other in the eye. "I... don't want you to get hurt again because of me but... I can't see how you can be okay if... you have anything to do with me. I d-don't know what to do, I just- I'm not meant to have anything nice, Lars, I don't deserve it."

Gods, why was he sprawled across the other's lap? Why was he doing this? Why was he letting himself have this, especially when it would have to be taken away from him? His breath came more quickly than before, pushed towards the edge of tears and panic and he had to try to divert his mind, consider something that wasn't this, the two of them, whatever the fuck this relationship was.

"You said... it wasn't you. That... you didn't say it but if you didn't- Was it the other Lars?" he asked softly, brown eyes finally raised, his lips stretched but no amusement there. It might have looked a bit like a smile but it was oddly sad and serious. "You... are Lars, aren't you?"

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Lars
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Tue Mar 19, 2019 8:20 pm

Passive Dorms
Ophus 17, 2718 ❁ Late Evening
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The older passive did his best to contain his emotions - his fear, his terror at the thought that he'd somewhat fixed Lars' mistake only for Fionn to dismiss it as well - as his former roommate spoke, offering explanations behind why they wouldn't work, why it wouldn't, couldn't end well, all the while trying to lean further into the younger even as he leaned away.

He hadn't known about the younger passive's life before Brunnhold, but then he supposed no one knew much about anyone's former lives, did they? Not unless they were a servant like Clover, who jumped at the chance to spew her stories of Old Rose Harbor - he hadn't even known the place's true name before she'd said it a thousand times - but more often than not, the gated community tossed away their old lives. It was easier to move on when you weren't constantly reminded of what you once had and could never have again.

The notion that Fionn had been - and still was - a bastard didn't come entirely as a surprise; the word had always fell from the other's mouth with a particular spite, as if it had always held some deeper, truer meaning to him than it did to everyone else. Lars couldn't imagine what it must've been like to grow up in a household like that, couldn't quite comprehend except to compare it somewhat to what their lives were as servants.

Unwanted. Ignored at best, and abused otherwise. How different it must have been to the childhood he had lived himself; not that it made much of a difference anymore. They both ended up in the same dark pit of unending servitude.

Still, it was true - Fionn was blonde, more akin to a Savatier than his sister's kind.

Lars tightened his grip about the other's waist only slightly, in an effort to pull him back close, burying his face in the younger man's shoulder, "it's hard to think otherwise when that's all anyone's ever told you," he murmured, "you've been treated like trash your whole life, Fionn, you've never been given a chance to be anything else. You're not undeserving of love just because you haven't been given it before."

One of his hands left the other's waist, sliding up over his shoulder, fingers finding their place at the base of the boy's neck, much like he'd done in the storage room.

"How were you supposed to succeed with parents that didn't give you a chance? And then with Ayden, who kept you under his thumb?" the Hessean pressed a gentle kiss to the boy's shoulder from his place nestled against it, the action delicate and unassuming, "I'm not going to push you down like Ayden, and I'm not ashamed of you. If you don't deserve love, then I don't deserve it either."

The blonde only moved from his place against the passive's neck when questioned, lifting his head to meet brown eyes with blue.

"I..." he started, for a moment looking lost, uncertain, "...I am, but I'm... not. That's what everyone calls us both, but - but of course they don't understand," the older took a moment to glance downward, to the floor beside the bed, "Lars isn't a voice in my head, Fionn, he's not just some... some idea, or whisper, he's a person. He doesn't think the things that I think, he doesn't do or say the things I do - he didn't grow up in Dorhaven as I did. Maybe even I don't understand. Maybe I really am just... moony, and I'm imagining it all - but how?"

Shaking his head, Lars bit the inside of his cheek out of nervous habit, "he doesn't want us together because he's afraid of you. But I'm not," the anxious blue gaze rose to meet his fellow passive's, "I know that you didn't have a choice. I know that you were scared, and not for yourself. I know that both of us are trouble in our own ways but I also know that - that if you can forgive me for murder, then I can forgive you."
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Fionn
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Wed Mar 20, 2019 5:32 pm

Ophus 17, 2718 | Late Evening
Passive Dorms
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It was funny. The more that Fionn talked about how those close to him suffered, the closer Lars tried to get. The young man was sort of trying to warn him off but he was incredibly grateful that it wasn't working, that the other servant didn't find it off-putting. It was why he let him get close, allowed himself to be pulled nearer so that he could be cuddled into. It was so sweet, cruelly so perhaps because it couldn't last but it was wonderful. How could he not enjoy every second of it? The contact was soothing, largely because it didn't come with any strings. Lars didn't expect anything from him, not really. As long as he was there and willing, it was enough. And the middle Madden was more than willing, more than ready to let the older man keep him forever. If he could keep him for the night, he would. The notion of being able to curl up with him to go asleep was magical. He didn't know what that would be like, to sleep beside someone, but he imagined that it was pleasant. The beds were small, yes but if they were close together, he imagined that they'd fit and the teen was all too aware that bodies could fit quite well together when they were positioned correctly. There was no reason why any of it had to be sexual though, just comfortable companionship.

The blond didn't deserve the other's kindness and his words were just that. Had he been treated like trash his whole life? Yes. He hadn't been wanted, he'd been looked down on, he'd been struck, he'd always been inferior. Being told that he was a passive hadn't come as a surprise, really. It made sense that he should be an even greater outsider. Already an ostracised Madden, why not a defective and outcast galdor as well? The runt of the litter that had been left to waste away and had somehow hung on in spite of everyone's best efforts, even the 'kindness' of putting him in Brunnhold where his individuality, his hopes and dreams could die. It would have been easier to just let go but he'd always been a scrappy underdog.

But then Lars said the word 'love' and his breath caught, the boy stunned at the notion that love could ever be something in his vicinity. He... wasn't entirely sure about what it was exactly. He thought that parents were meant to love their children but that was different to the kind of love that partners felt for each other. There seemed to be different degrees, different types. Had anyone ever loved him? Niamh, maybe, years ago, perhaps she still did. She was protective of him, she cared about his wellbeing, she seemed upset by things that hurt him as if it was her pain as well. Did protectiveness constitute love? Was it something more than that? He'd been protective of Niamh once upon a time, would likely still stand up for her now but... that was because of the kindness she'd shown him, wasn't it? In a way, he owed her a debt.

But if he owed Niamh a debt then his one to Lars was far greater and his protectiveness of him... You were meant to love your siblings though, you were meant to protect them, that was different. Although based on what he'd been told - and his own remembered pains to boot - he'd rather punch Oísin in the face than love him. Was Lars what Oísin might have been to him? Like a brother? No... Fionn didn't think that you were meant to cuddle a brother like that, to kiss a brother like that, to do... more. All those desires were certainly there, even the more carnal ones although heavily repressed, not wholly deniable but too painful for him to want to draw out. Although sitting in the older man's lap was likely to draw something out, even if he didn't really want it. Not that that was stopping him...

The other's hands were on the back of his neck again, Lars' lips going to his shoulder this time rather than seeking out his mouth but Fionn wasn't entirely disappointed. He wanted to keep his wits, wanted to follow the words and the gentle kiss was decidedly pleasant.

What he had to say drew a blush to the teenager's cheeks, a hopeful light in his eyes as he scanned the other's face, searching to make sure that it was true. Shame was something he was all too familiar with, as was disgust although both were things that he was more used to feeling towards himself. His tastes disgusted and shamed him, largely because he'd had a sense of wrongness instilled in him where homosexuality was concerned but also... he'd seen things, experienced things. What he'd witnessed and felt seemed to reaffirm his father's opinions rather than negate them. However, the way he felt towards Lars, now more than before the beating, definitely didn't conform to any of his previous thoughts. None of this seemed disgusting or shameful although when there was distance between them, Fionn did feel guilty. After the kiss in the storeroom, he'd felt as if he'd corrupted something pure and innocent with his carnal nature. Lars was a rarity in this place and the middle Madden felt as if he was ruining him.

Lars seemed to know his own mind though.

Sort of.

Given what he was saying, he didn't seem very certain of anything in a mental regard.

"If everyone calls you Lars... do you not? Is the other one Lars and you're... I don't know. I'm trying to get it but..." the young man bit his lip, staring briefly at the ceiling as he sought the words. "Niamh thinks you have this thing, this dis-dis-dis-something that means that you look at things from the outside like... you're another person watching stuff happen to someone else or... something. She explained it because she was talking about the way you talk but... I can't remember most of it. It didn't make sense either to be honest but... if Lars who... isn't you didn't grow up in Dorhaven and you did then... are you the original? Was he always there or was he born... here?"

The young man's forehead was heavily wrinkled, the space between his brows particularly tense and bunched as he tried to puzzle this out, eyes scrunched shut. Fingers rubbed across his face while he thought. This was confusing. He was tying himself up in knots. Maybe Lars was moony after all.

Don't. You could be just as crazy and maybe you don't even know it, that inner voice whispered, sowing seeds of doubt and confusion.

"Look La- you, I wasn't scared for myself. I didn't do it because I was scared of what Ayden would do to me, I was scared for you. I thought-" he broke off, hand dropping to thud lightly into his lap, eyes open and huge. "Forgive you for- What the fuck are you talking about? What is there to forgive? Are you talking about killing Fred? That's not something to forgive you for, it's something to thank you for."

He shook his head, face a mask of bemusement as he shot the other a quizzical look before letting his gaze wander off in the direction of the door, not quite able to meet the other's eye. "He was disgusting. Even if he hadn't been trying to kill me, before that he was- He was disgusting and it was just- Letting him do what he wanted had its perks, yeah? But I hated him, he was..."

The blond shuddered, not able to cope with where has mind had gone, the memories, never mind to speak of them. There were some images that he wished that he could scrub from his brain and funnily enough, Fred's corpse wasn't one of them.

"No, I'm grateful. For Fred," he murmured, giving Lars a peck on the cheek in the spur of the moment. He was slow to withdraw once he was that close though, scarlet flooding his features before he leaned close to press a kiss to his jaw, lips lingering if Lars would let them. "If you make a habit of it... well, as long as you don't murder me..."

His lips stretched in a smile, even as he wrapped his arms around the other's neck so he could embrace him comfortably. "Can you... can you really forgive me though? Lars..."

He paused, finding it odd to use the name to refer to another, especially when it felt like he was talking to the same person.

"Lars obviously doesn't."
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Lars
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Thu Mar 21, 2019 9:14 pm

Passive Dorms
Ophus 17, 2718 ❁ Late Evening
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Lars' mood appeared to shift only slightly, the younger man beginning to speak of him - not of him, the other one - and attempting to find a logical answer in the mess of his explanations. He was certainly not pleased to hear that the boy and his sister had spoken of him. That was never good, no, he could feel the doubt bubbling up from beneath that anything good would ever be uttered of his existence - no, he was moony, wasn't he? He was. That was all anyone ever thought, all they ever would think - all they ever needed to think, what was he doing?

"I don - dis-something, no, I -" the older muttered, trying to string his thoughts into words and those words into sentences somewhat recognizable since his meanings certainly weren't, although the blonde failed to continue, letting his mouth close as he listened to the younger passive continue on in his attempts to make sense of things.

It was difficult for the man to sit still all of a sudden, though he did his best to remain seated and not jostle the boy strewn across his lap. He sat still, head leaned against the boy's shoulder, but there was a noticeable shift in demeanor - a clear discomfort.

Although his mind was having trouble paying full attention to Fionn as he spoke of Fred, the subject had at least shifted, at least switched from the matter of himself and Lars onto other things, better things, things he much preferred to think about, yes, that was good. He didn't mind thinking of Fred for the simple matter of how he'd met his end - that was something to focus on, something to dwell on, something to put his rising heartrate to rest and his itching, twitching fingers to a stop.

It was made all the easier when nervous blues flicked upward again, resting with a twitch on his former roommate's smile; body settling slightly out of his discomfort with arms draped loosely around his neck. Lars swallowed, a small smile finding its place across his lips soon enough, "yes, of course."

The servant let his own arms fall to slip about the boy's waist, "I'd forgiven you before you'd even stopped," he offered softly, choosing not to comment on the matter of Lars and his own personal grudge, "I was... thankful, really."

The blonde's head tilted slightly, faraway eyes following the line of Fionn's jaw as he admired from up close, "not for the pain or for yours, of course, not for the situation. But... it - you opened my eyes, Fionn."

Lars' gaze darted up to meet the younger's, all the while his thumbs smoothed soft, gentle circles at the boy's sides.

"This place is a prison," he murmured, "but I'm not alive to be a prisoner. You've taken away my fear, Fionn, and it's a beautiful thing to be unafraid."
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Fionn
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Fri Mar 22, 2019 9:02 am

Ophus 17, 2718 | Late Evening
Passive Dorms
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The other didn't squirm exactly but Fionn could feel the uneasiness, the kinetic potential that would likely have resulted in movement if the blond wasn't sprawled over Lars' lap. He wasn't sure what he'd said that had set him off - because it had definitely been something that he'd said - but whatever it was, he regretted it. Fionn regretted a lot of things.

He rested a hand on his former roommate's back, wondering if it had been his rather clumsy attempt to make sense of things, perhaps something said that had been so wrong it stung, or if the concept of disassociation made him uncomfortable.

Niamh had explained it to him - not that he'd actually asked for it - and he hadn't really listened because he'd shrugged it off. He'd heard enough to know that it didn't fit. He wasn't in Lars' head that was true but it hadn't sounded right. His sister had looked at him like any other damaged passive but she hadn't seen him when he changed, hadn't seen him when his temper flared. Things actually got through to Lars in a way that they hadn't gotten through to Fionn when he was younger. He had gone through a period like that when Ayden was still around. It had helped a bit and when it had broken, the nightmares had come through. The young man protected himself and he was dreamy but he certainly wasn't that disconnected. He'd tried to point out to Niamh that he disagreed and she'd been... annoyingly patronising actually. Obviously, she knew better than he did. She had learning, which was obviously better than his lived experience because theory stood up better of course. His sister certainly thought that she was very open-minded and accepting but she still had some of those golly hang-ups. It wasn't to the same degree of course but she definitely had some of the arrogance, she just didn't realise it.

Maybe Lars thought that himself and Niamh were discussing him, gossiping about him. Maybe he thought that they were talking about his madness behind his back but it wasn't like that, was it? Was it his fault that his galdor sister wanted to give him her unsolicited opinions? Was it his fault that his own feelings, apparently visible to everyone but himself and possibly their recipient, had prompted certain avenues of conversation? It was partially his fault that the girl had taken an interest in his former roommate, tentatively investigating Fionn's thoughts on him as if the blond didn't notice what she was trying to do.

Maybe it wasn't that at all and he'd never guess. These lines of thought were probably where madness lay as he considered and worried and second guessed himself. All he could do was press on and hope that he didn't stick his foot in it.

The touching was nice and he didn't want to piss Lars off or scare him away, didn't want to drive him to stop this but there was only so much comfort he could take from contact with the other. There was only so long that he could take shelter in it and hide from things he didn't want to see, to think, to feel. And some things were impossible to ignore, even if that disregard would allow him to remain close and comfortable to the other.

It was the teen's turn to be uncomfortable, squirming a bit even as Lars let his arms encircle his waist. He was shaking his head, the colour draining from his face.

"Don't say that you're grateful. Clocking don't, I don't need to- Don't say that! I almost fucking killed you. You coming out the other side of that is no thanks to me so don't!"

He hadn't meant to raise his voice, he hadn't meant for it to go up so high in pitch as it neared hysterical levels, cracking wildly as he tilted his head back and away. How could he- Oh he thought that something good had come of it and it had in a way but the price- If he could go back, the middle Madden would have said no, he would have refused and done something else, anything else to stop the alternative from happening. But he couldn't go back and Lars was so calm and almost... rapturous as if Fionn had done something truly wonderful. It made him feel a bit ill.

His hands found their way to the other's wrists, pausing as he considered pulling them off. He need to walk around, he needed to... not sit and listen to this like it was normal. No, not normal but acceptable. But at the same time, he didn't want to take away that soft circling, that small comfort.

Their eyes met, tear-filled browns finding dreamy blues and there was something unfathomable in Lars' gaze. His words made a shiver go through him.

How can he be unafraid? How on Vita...

He's not a coward, he's got more backbone than you, not that that'd be difficult.

"Shut your head! Not you, Lars, I didn't mean..." he stuttered out, gaze dropping. His hands gently unhooked the other's hands from his waist with a shake of his head. If he didn't try to stop him then he'd move from the older man's lap, take to his feet so he could pace a little restlessly. His hand found the back of his neck, rubbing over the skin, letting his fingers tangle and pull at the locks at the nape.

"How... how can you not be afraid, Lars? How can you- How the fuck could I have done that? If I was you, I'd... I'd be worse," the middle Madden murmured, pink beginning to creep across his cheeks.

"But I'm not you and I am afraid. I... I'm a coward though, as if that wasn't obvious," he added in a whisper, bitterness colouring his tone.

He paused, gazing at Lars with the barest tilt of his head, his whole face a query. "How... can you feel better?"
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Lars
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Thu Apr 04, 2019 9:41 pm

Passive Dorms
Ophus 17, 2718 ❁ Late Evening
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For a moment, Lars' expression changed.

Eyes previously caught up in wonders and perhaps even a sense of amazement narrowed slightly; if the man had only had a field his darkening disposition would've been evident, but in the passive's form it was only there for the briefest of moments, the smallest flash of reality, the quickly-hidden unveiling of buried truth. It was only a moment later that the blonde's lips were pulled downward into a frown, eyebrows drawn close as Lars observed his roommate's reactions.

"I -" he began, though quickly he cut himself off, allowing the younger passive to continue speaking, continue pulling away, continue pacing and pulling slightly at the hair at the base of his head. Lars remained seated upon Jamie's bed, eyes falling to stare at his empty hands, hands that only moments before had been tracing little circles into his former roommate's sides.

"I'm sorry, I didn't..." Lars shook his head, eyes closing for just a moment before flicking up to look back to the teenager.

"I didn't mean to freak you out, sorry. It's still... very hard to explain what I mean, sometimes I wonder if I'll ever figure out the ways of conversation," he lamented, pulling one of his hands upward to rest almost nervously against his own cheek, pressing lightly against the skin, "I used to be afraid of everything - even just that, speaking. You... helped me. Brunnhold is horrible, Fionn, all of us servants know it but it used to control me. My fears don't control me anymore."

What does control you?

"I don't think you're a coward. You stood up for me," the Hessean lowered his voice, head lowering so that he could stare once again at his hands, "you couldn't save me from everything, but you saved me from the alternative. A coward wouldn't have done that."
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Fionn
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Tue Apr 09, 2019 11:04 am

Ophus 17, 2718 | Late Evening
Passive Dorms
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Hands found their way into pockets, fingers grabbing the material at the bottom and twisting it around the tips. Shoulders hunched, head bowed down, every fibre of his being tense and rigid as he came to a standstill, gazing fixedly at the floor, mentally tracing patterns in the wood's grain.

He was listening, he really was, even if his body was currently radiating something hostile and giving the impression that he was unwilling to listen. He wasn't. Some of the words weren't enjoyable to listen to but Lars... gosh, he'd stand and listen to Lars speak for hours on end just to hear the rise and fall of his voice, the varying tones. There was some frustration in there right now but it was still an attractive voice, difficult to argue with really. He didn't want to argue with it that was the thing. It'd be all too nice to simply absorb the varying sentiments that he spouted and absorb them, replace that vile inner voice with his former roommate's rather than being left with the taint of his father and Ayden mingled with something that was so embittered that it could only be his and his alone.

He regretted being the cause of the frustration though and the distress but then he was good at that, wasn't he?

"I like it when you speak. I like listening to you," he informed the floor sullenly, barely moving his pouting mouth to do so. The still and rigid posture broke for a moment as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other before equilibrium was restored. The shoulders remained hunched but his gaze raised tentatively, teeth catching his lip briefly, moving it back and forth thoughtfully before he released it.

"I stood up for you too late. I didn't try to stop things when I should have and I... I shouldn't have listened to him. It was easier to accept what he said, easier to hit you than to develop some backbone," he murmured, sad but truthful - at least as far as he was concerned. It was how it had happened. "The things I let him do to me, to others. The things I did... Circle have pity, have mercy! I'm controlled by regret for what I did do... and for what I didn't. I should have dealt with him and Fred but I fucking didn't. I could have but I didn't, Lars. I didn't stick my neck out because I'm a fucking coward."

His proclamation blasted out, the young man dropped onto his own bed, flopping onto his back so that he was gazing at the ceiling, sighing deeply.

"I'm glad that you think something good came out of it but I don't see things the same way. I fucked up and I paid for it but not as much as I should have. You should have just let Fred throttle me, no one would have been sad about it. He might have been sorry but only because he would have had to find another worthless scrap to play around with; he would have felt sorry for himself. He didn't give a fuck about me, no one-"

He broke off with another sigh, rubbing a hand roughly across his face as he closed his eyes. He was so tired, so gods be damned tired of it all.

"People would be sorry if anything happened to you though. You've gollies that care and other passives, Jamie's probably going to give out to me when he comes back because even though you aren't here anymore, he cares. Niamh likes you and she doesn't even really know you and she supposedly loves me because I'm her brother and always will be or some chroveshit but do you know what? She treats me the same way as everyone else, like something that might blow up without warning and it's not because I'm passive, it's my temper."

Bitter, bitter, so bitter and he shouldn't be saying this to Lars, shouldn't be saying any of this out loud where it could be overheard by anyone. No one wanted dissension in the ranks.

"So I'd like to see most of them dead so what? Can you blame me? My family? They can all drop dead except for Niamh. Your family? Well, if they all dropped dead maybe you could sneak back in and take back the Savatier name but I think every single golly bastard would have to drop dead first. Every fucking one of them because gods forbid that they admit that we're people now."
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