[open; dated 4/20] // dream fades before dawn

[fionnuisce]

Characters: Waver and open!
Setting: Floor 25
Format: Action, but I will try to match.
Summary: Someone doesn't cope well with screwing up.
Warnings: None yet.

[Since his revival, Waver hadn't slept. He certainly hadn't eaten, considering the miserable state of the cafeteria's choices. Not that he thought it mattered; there were more important things to do.]

[Twice, twice now he'd failed and gotten himself killed. This time it wasn't the death itself that bothered him (though painful, it had at least been quick) so much as it was the circumstances surrounding it. If he hadn't hesitated, if he hadn't faltered, if he hadn't been terrible with one of the most basic forms of magecraft...a thousand 'if' possibilities had run through his head countless times over by now.]

[Waver could be found sitting in the meadow on the twenty-fifth floor, and in time he'd surrounded himself with scattered and discarded notebook pages--upon which were drawn sigils both magical and alchemical in nature. It was clear he'd spent hours there (if not a day or two) doing...what was he doing? There was a small knife in his left hand, which Waver seemed to be using to cut various parts off flowers; sometimes focusing on only one, and occasionally several at a time.]

[However many he'd damaged, the green-suited magus would then hold out his hand and appear to be in deep concentration. If he was lucky, a pale green light would flicker and crackle around his hand, and the flowers would appear to slowly repair themselves.]

[...But he usually wasn't lucky. Waver estimated that even after endless hours' practice, his healing magecraft would only work approximately five times out of ten, and would only heal effectively three out of those five. No matter; he had absolutely no intention of leaving this floor until he got it right. What had begun as a harsh realization of the need for practice had rapidly spiraled downward into an obsessive task of repeated motions and stubborn fixation.]

[For him, healing was a difficult thing, one which all his thoughts had to be focused on. Unfortunately, he was thinking of far too many more troubling things; his obsessive practice had turned to an exercise in futility.]

Comments

[fionnuisce]

...Why didn't you leave?

[His shoulders had gone rigid under the unexpected touch; Waver had been so lost in concentration that he didn't even sense his own Servant's presence. The magus' voice was strained, prana around his hand fading as he lowered his arm.]

You could have survived, I could have saved you, so why didn't you leave-?!

[Voice raised out of some form of desperation rather than anger, Waver disregarded Diarmuid's (correct) observation altogether.]

[oathshackledbird]

I'm sorry, but I couldn't leave you.

[Diarmuid doesn't let Waver's ridged posture or angry voice upset him. Instead, he keeps his voice and touch gentle.]

We do things together now. I will do anything for you, but I will not leave you. Please, I beg you. Don't ask me to do it again. I don't like having to disobey you.

[fionnuisce]

Why?! You'd rather die than let me try to protect you?! You would actually prefer to stay and die with an idiot that can't even use healing magecraft right?!

[oathshackledbird]

Yes.

[There is no hesitation in the answer. It is just one word spoken with extreme confidence and surety followed by Diarmuid wrapping his arms around Waver and pulling him close.]

I would die next to you any day than live apart from you.

[fionnuisce]

I-

[He started to raise an objection, but whatever it was died in his throat. All the strength and tension drained out of Waver's body, frustration on his face dulling to a look of blank and hopeless surrender. He didn't move to speak again or return his friend's embrace; it seemed very much as though Waver had flat-out given up on the spot.]

[oathshackledbird]

[Diarmuid isn't sure what reaction he was expecting, but whatever it was, feeling the life seemingly drain out of Waver had not been it. For a moment, he squeezes the man closer and then lets him go only long enough to move from behind him to in front of him where he pulls him back into his arms again.]

Please...

[His voice is soft and begging near Waver's ear.]

Please...don't shut me out and then give up. If I am wrong, tell me. Just please...don't leave me like this...

[fionnuisce]

[For a moment or two, it almost looked like Waver wouldn't answer. For someone that rarely showed emotion in his everyday life, it seemed as though shutting everything out was the only logical response to an extreme situation like this. He didn't plan on shouting anymore, and he certainly didn't intend on doing something stupid like crying.]

[Although the faint tremor starting in his shoulders suggested otherwise.]

...I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry I failed you--

[The apologetic litany was nearly inaudible, forced in the strained tones of one who simply refused to let anyone see him actually break.]

[oathshackledbird]

Shh...it's all right.

[Diarmuid's arms tighten around him again, one hand moving up into Waver's hair to gently pull the man's head against his shoulder.]

Just let it out. Don't hold back. Doing so will only make it hurt worse.

[The urge to tell Waver that he is wrong is strong, but Diarmuid resists it. He can tell the man that later. For now, Waver just really needs a chance to get what is hurting him so much out in the open.

They can work in fixing things after that.]

[fionnuisce]

I'm s-sorry. If I wasn't so pathetic I could have healed you faster. I could have stopped him, I c-could have...

['I could have helped you.' Waver was afraid of quite a few things, and he'd admit as much. but what terrified and sickened him above all else was the everpresent possibility that he was fallible. He could fail at any manner of things, inconsequential to vitally important. Failure would prove everyone right, show them nothing more than the truth of Waver Velvet's incompetence.]

[His voice cracked as Waver tried to finish that sentence; he found himself clinging to Diarmuid with his face buried in the knight's shoulder, shaking with half-repressed sobs.]

I don't want you t-to die again. Whatever happens to me, I...I don't want you to suffer anymore.

[oathshackledbird]

[As much as Diarmuid wants to tell him that he will be careful, and he won't suffer or die anymore any statement like that in a place like this would only be a lie. And he refuses to lie to Waver.]

I know you mean well my friend, but you have to stop and think about what you are saying. Suffering is going to happen in this place. We don't have to like it, but if we beat ourselves up over every time we fail to help those we care about, we aren't going to be able to do anything at all for them. I know...before you came here I tried to do that and all it got me was death.

[Diarmuid tucks Waver's head under his chin.]

Everyone has limits and this places loves taking those limits and pushing you to them so that it can laugh when you fail. No matter how much it hurts, you have to get up again. You have to show them you won't let them win.

If you want me not to suffer, I need you with all of your flaws at my side.

[fionnuisce]

[Waver waited until he could steady his voice before speaking again. But despite his best attempts, he couldn't quite seem to get control over the shaking.]

I can't stand failure. Obviously I know it's going to happen, but knowing I could fall short at a critical moment like that, it's...it's terrifying. A normal magus could have healed you as easily as breathing, but me? What kind of archmagus can't even do that?

I'm--afraid, Diarmuid. I'm going to fail you and keep failing you. How can you still say you want me by your side now, knowing that?

[oathshackledbird]

Because I care about you as a man not as a set of failures. How many times have I failed only to have you forgive me? What kind of person would I be if I did not extend the same forgiveness to you?

Everyone has their strengths and their weaknesses. If I were my brother, I could have healed myself, but there is not a spark of magic in me. Should I start blaming myself for that? No. What good will it do?

[Diarmuid's hand rubs comfortingly against Waver's back.]

You have worked hard to strengthen yourself to make up for the things you don't do so well. Don't let this stop you now. Not when so much is at stake.

[fionnuisce]

Still, you--you should be angry with me, you idiot! Aren't you upset I tried to force you to leave?! I-I...

[Waver gave up with a defeated sigh, arms tightening a little more securely around Lancer.]

...you're probably right. I just want to actually be worth how much I know you're willing to do for me. How can I do that as such a screwup?

[oathshackledbird]

How can I be mad when I understand far too well why you did it? When I would have done the same thing in your shoes?

[Diarmuid leans back, coaxing Waver to look at him.]

You died to protect me. You were willing to accept the fact that I might hate you for sending me away just for a small chance at saving my life. My friend, what more could I ask from you?

[fionnuisce]

[That was a relief to hear, despite the fact that Waver had expected Diarmuid to be angry. Of course he understood. If anyone understood what he'd been thinking, it would have been Diarmuid.]

I really am terrible at getting you out of trouble, aren't I?

[oathshackledbird]

It is a fault that I believe we both share, unfortunately.

[He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to Waver's forehead.]

I guess that just means we have to work together all the harder to learn how to overcome it.

[fionnuisce]

That sounds like it might work out.

[Laughing hesitantly, the magus wiped at his eyes with one hand.]

Sorry about all that.

[oathshackledbird]

I don't want you to be sorry, You have no reason to apologize. What I want is for you to be open with me. I might not always know what to say, but I will listen. And I will do my best to comfort you until the pain lessens. We are partners, right? That is what partners do for each other.

[Diarmuid releases his hold on Waver so that he can start picking up the papers scattered around them.]

Why don't we pick this mess up now and get you some food and rest. I think you probably need it. I was putting together bundles of food for people before things went crazy, so there is still some real food in my room.

[fionnuisce]

Do I really look that bad?

[He shrugged, picking up a few wayward pages himself.]

I've gone longer than this without sleeping, so it isn't as though I'm going to run myself into the ground.

[that's exactly what he's going to do]

[oathshackledbird]

[Diarmuid smiles and then gently reaches out and flicks him between the eyes.]

Waver, you don't need to look bad. We are connected now, remember? I can feel what you are feeling. You are frustrated and tired. You need food and rest.

And forgive me if I don't believe you when you say that you aren't going to run yourself into the ground. You are far too much like me in some respects.

[fionnuisce]

Ow--! Look, I can't exactly argue that. But you don't have to worry so much. I'm used to it.

[oathshackledbird]

[Really, Waver, really?]

Telling me me not to worry will be about as successful as telling you not to. You realize that, right?

Some things are okay to become use to, and others are not. Abusing your body because you can is one of those things that is not. How can you stand next to me if you don't take care of yourself?

[fionnuisce]

...alright.

[Successfully defeated, he gave up with a shrug.]

If you say so, I'll try to be a little more careful.

[oathshackledbird]

[Diarmuid sighs and gives him a fond look.]

Please do, or else I will go white before you.

[He runs a hand through his hair, his face surprisingly grim for someone whose words seem so joking.]

I've seen myself white before... I would rather not see it again.

[fionnuisce]

...I'm not sure I understand.

[Waver narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to determine just what Diarmuid was talking about.]