victory_road | [closed] February Catch All

Of course, Sylvasha. Anything for you.

[It's hard to pull himself away when all he wants to do is hold onto his boyfriend, his lover, but... Sylvain's well being takes priority. Fortunately, Agnes is there with him as she slowly pats his shoulder, and Dimitri convinces himself to pull away.]

[Granted, he pulls away slowly, but... he does it. He traces his fingers along Sylvain's cheek, his jaw, before getting a hold of himself.]

If you start feeling hungry, tell me, and I will get you something light. Appetites can be difficult things.

[Especially after... whatever it is that Sylvain has remembered.]

Thanks, Dima.

[Even these little nicknamse are a reminder. It wasn't until recently that he'd managed to get his friend back. Even then, with the war raging, there was still so much distance between the two of them. They'd never had moments of intimacy like this.

A sinister voice in the back of his head reminds him that, sooner or later, he'll lose them all again. It fills him with a fresh sense of dread, and he's back to burying himself against Inda's leaves. He closes his eyes tight, reminding himself that salt water isn't good for plants, and that if he cries, he'll only be making it difficult on all of them.

He can get himself together in the time Dimitri is away.

Probably.]

[Dimitri, honestly, doesn't want to leave Sylvain alone for too long. He doesn't want to leave him alone at all. It feels as though his friend, his lover, might disappear again the second he takes his eye off of him...]

[It's ridiculous. He knows that. That isn't how this works at all.]

[...That doesn't help the fear around his heart.]

[Agnes being there helps, just a little bit. Her presence helps him just long enough to duck into the kitchens. The chefs are also already up, and sympathetic when he explains what's going on. When he comes back, it's with a glass of cool water and a small packet of saltine crackers. Something plain, fine to nibble on.]

Here. Perhaps this could help. The chefs said they wouldn't mind making you something light later on as well, to help.

[At least that feels a little familiar. He's used to cooks being up and about at nearly every hour, ready to accommodate any chaotic schedule that the army might have kept. Between that and the familiarity of Dimitri overall, he finds his shoulders releasing some of their tension as he reaches for the glass of water.

It shouldn't be so surprising that he downs it so quickly. And after a moment of thought, he even opens up the packet of crackers.]

Thank you, your high-- [His brows pinch. It was almost easy, falling into the speech patterns of a loyal knight.] Mitya. Thank you, Mitya.

[A... strange thing, to hear that title, the start of it, on Sylvain's lips. After everything that's happened...]

[Dimitri puts his hand down along the table where the glass is, unsure of whether he should pick it up and get more just yet.]

It is no trouble at all. I'm... glad to see you eating at all. You should take the day easy, you know.

I know. [Sylvain hadn't planned on anything else. He hadn't even wanted to leave his room, really. But even as part of him wanted to mourn the last few months, the Sylvain that had been here and loved so vividly practically demanded that he come out here.

He wasn't the only one hurting, after all.]

Dima. I... Remembered a lot of things.

[...Ah.]

[One of the things he's been scared about.]

[Dimitri swallows thickly, and stares down at his hand as though he can stop time if he just looks hard enough... But he can't. All he's really doing is the inevitable.]

...If... If what you saw, back there, means you... wish to cease what we are to each other, then I will understand completely, Sylvain.

[The things he did... He will make no excuse for them.]

No, no. [All at once, Sylvain finds himself reaching out. He feels like a child, trying to cling to a parent, a friend, a comfort object. That tether is the only thing that was keeping him from plummeting into what he was certain might have been the flames themselves. He needed Dimitri, just like he needed Claude and Felix and --

Grant. He forces himself to think of Grant. He cares for Grant. He hasn't forgotten Grant.]

It isn't that. I love you. I'll always love you, Mitya. But -- [Now Sylvain looks up at him, his normally honeyed gaze now darkened with memories.]

I did not remember loving you, Dimitri. Or Claude. Or Felix. I did not remember any of this. None of us did.

[On one hand: Sylvain still loves him.]

[On the other hand: this.]

[Dimitri stares at him for a moment, stunned, confused, and he feels... almost like a helpless child again when he responds.]

But... I love you, Sylvain.

I know. [And he'd loved Dimitri, and Felix, and he'd at least thought Claude was cute. But --]

We never said anything. None of us did. I was ready to watch you become King, and then I would go home to Gautier to take my title. It was over.

[Sylvain knows he should say more. He also knows he shouldn't have so casually dropped this information on Dimitri -- that the war had been won. It held far too many implications for their fates, least of all the ones tied to their love for one another.]

I'm sorry.

[But - he loves Sylvain.]

[He loves Sylvain, and Felix does as well, and Claude has been so worried, cares for him so much- ]

[It's hard to say just what he would do if he were on his own. Perhaps say or do something foolish, most likely. But then Agnes puts one heavy clawed hand on his shoulder, and clicks her tongue, and somehow the sound snaps through his frantic and buzzing thoughts.]

[Dimitri takes a deep breath, and digs his fingers into his shirt, over his heart. No.]

I do not accept that.

[Sylvain's gaze flicks toward the Pokemon, then back toward Dimitri. He watches the way his hand clenches down, and distantly his mind thinks to be worried about Dimitri hurting himself. He's reaching out before he's even fully thought about it, threading their fingers together and pulling his hand away from fabric and skin.]

There is nothing to not accept, Mitya.

[Sylvain wished there was, wished there might be some fragment of hope. But after Felix had fallen asleep, the despair had washed back in. Felix would fight a losing battle to keep them both there. One day, they would all be brought back.]

At least we have now, right? [His voice feels so small. It's rare that he lets himself sound as hopeless as he feels.]

Sylvain, must I repeat myself?

[Dimitri's jaw gains a stubborn set to it, and he leans in close, presses their foreheads together while his hand squeezes down on Sylvain.]

I do not accept it.

We have now, and we have a future as well. You said I had just become king, that you were about to return to Gautier. That still leaves decades of our lives left.

I love you.

I will not accept you being miserable.

[Sylvain opens his mouth, then closes it again. He doesn't know how to make Dimitri see sense. The war was over, and Dimitri had far more important things to worry about than his best friend. In any case, he'd only ever started talking about how he felt in that regard here over the last few weeks.

He doesn't see how a man with the responsibilities of an entire nation could possibly save someone else from burdens they wouldn't talk about. And he doesn't have the strength to argue his point.

Between them, Inda has burrowed her way into Sylvain's chest. He knows without having to check that she can't see his face. He doesn't have to feel guilty for her as he flashes a smile at Dimitri. It lacks the warmth it should.]

Okay, Mitya.

[The smile isn't a real one. Dimitri has always sort of recognized them, even if he was not wholly aware of that fact. It makes his heart clench, and Dimitri wraps his arms around Sylvain again.]

...You are not abandoned, Sylvain.

You will never be abandoned.

[Weakly, Sylvain allows his head to fall upon Dimitri's shoulder. Protests form and die on his lips once more, but he swallows them down for the time being. He doesn't know how to phrase it in a way that won't wound Dimitri. The truth is that he will be abandoned, and that no one will know he felt that way. His feelings were always barricaded by false smiles and playful jests.

It had always been easier for him to fake it, after all. And why shouldn't he, when it was something so petty? Thousands would kill to be in his shoes, to lead the life of comfort and privilege that he did. Perhaps he might be without love, but unlike Dimitri and Felix, he still had his family.

Never mind what a cold comfort that was.]

It isn't your fault, Dimitri. I would not let you fix it.

...Does it matter whose fault it is?

[His fingers tighten just slightly in Sylvain's shirt before he forces them to relax. Forces his voice to relax.]

All that matters is that you are cared for. Loved.

[It does matter, Sylvain wants to argue. Dimitri couldn't hold himself, or that particular version of himself, responsible for what he hadn't done. Not when Sylvain hadn't given him the chance to even try. It was the same thing Felix had tried to do, after all.]

It will be alright. I... Still have the both of you. You're still my best friends there.

[It was a bandage, compared to anything that might properly fix the problem, but... That was okay. Something was better than nothing, right? Especially when Sylvain wouldn't ever know any different.]

We are your best friends here, as well.

[Dimitri presses a kiss to Sylvain's hair, tries to rub his back.]

Sylvain, do you recall how you and Felix first spoke about romance here? Between the two of you?

You mean after you dragged me out of the forest when I tried to run away?

[Dimitri has always been so big compared to him. Right now, Sylvain wants nothing more than to make himself as small as possible against the man. Even if he knows Dimitri can't protect him from this, it's still nice to pretend.]

Exactly.

[With that months away - longer, in the case of Sylvain, Dimitri realizes - it's easier to look back on those moments and find some glimmer of amusement in them. How foolish that had all been... How on earth had he dealt with it? Any of them?]

You did something foolish... so Felix did something foolish in return. So I did something equally foolish in running after you... And, in the end, you both talked with one another.

[Slowly, Dimitri starts to sway back and forth slightly, still rubbing Sylvain's back. He doesn't know when he got into the habit, only that it's emerged in his time in Johto. Something to do when his emotions feel too overwhelming.]

All three of us... are the same people here, as we are in Fodlan, no matter the time. And we are the same three people who love one another. The same three people with friends and allies and mentors who look after us.

Even if you feel your future is set in stone, Sylvain, our love will still take root, bore through until it blooms and flourishes through the cracks it has made.

[It isn't that Sylvain doesn't want to believe Dimitri. He would have loved to live in a fairy tale world where love and bonds overcame all. But if the bond of family couldn't save Edelgard from herself, what hope was there for love to change the course of tradition?

But Dimitri seems to believe his own words, and the last thing Sylvain wants to do, even now, is to upset him. He tips his chin up just a little and nods. He doesn't smile, because he knows Dimitri will see through it in seconds. Even this he isn't confident in, but he can still try.]

I trust you. [At least that much would always be true.]

And I... I promise I won't betray that trust.

[Whether he remembers or not... Dimitri knows his own feelings. He knows that he has felt so much love and pain over the people close to him. He will come back to this, no matter what.]

[If he doesn't... If he doesn't...]

[Dimitri takes in a rattling breath, letting go of Sylvain just briefly so that he can curl his hands into anxious fists.]

I - I apologize. I dumped so much upon you when you have just returned to us.

Are you kidding me, Mitya?

[Sylvain takes a deep breath. He lifts his hands, hoping to the Goddess that he has enough strength in his body to keep them from trembling too vividly. They lift to cup both of Dimitri's cheeks, one hand straying back into his hair. Even as part of his mind balks at touching his King so boldly, the rest of him starts to melt into a warm puddle of familiarity.

This was right. This was home.]

I'm the one dumping things on you. You... Have enough going on, and here I am... Being a mess again.

Sylvain.

[Dimitri presses his face against one of Sylvain's palms, his lips brushing against the callouses there.]

Your pain, your suffering, doesn't deserve to be dismissed. Why should it be your fault if you are in pain from something you had no say in?

Do you not also have enough going on? A burden that weighs down on your own shoulders?

[closed] February Catch All

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suicideal ideation cw

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