fallingbackup | The time of our great undoing

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[fabulae_victoriana]

The time of our great undoing

When Kevin woke up alone for the first time in months, he knew almost immediately that Glen was gone. If he were still human, he'd have looked everywhere for the man until he'd at least tracked down one of his Chains, and gotten confirmation from them that he was no longer in the world with them. But as it was, he could smell that the very spot he was laying on was the spot where Glen's trail had gone cold. The duke had vanished from the bed they shared as the knight slept.

That was well over a week ago now and in his head, Kevin's been lost ever since. He's done the best he can to take over Glen's duties around the house, and the Jabberwock, for whatever reason, has let him do it. But no matter how he tells himself that he's only minding things until Glen returns, and that he will, the atmosphere in the house rankles against him. Young Gilbert doesn't accept him -- not like this. The little Lacie pities him for the depth of his sadness; Lottie scoffs at him for thinking he can even attempt to fill Glen's shoes, even if he knows perfectly well he's only providing a poor substitute. With every day that passes, he feels more and more withdrawn, and so, when he can, Kevin escapes. He can be found wandering the city, now and again, letting the noise of it drown out his own thoughts. Or he can be found patrolling the fences around the farmlands as usual, perhaps in the hopes that the familiar solitude of it will help keep him in his right mind. But the truth is that Kevin hasn't felt this out of place and unsettled in at least a year, since he'd come to live in Glen's house in the first place. He'd thought he was home at last, that he'd found a new family and even a little peace. Now, it seems that all of that peace was in Glen all along, and Kevin has no idea when or if the duke will return.

But the most upsetting part of it all is what he does know. If Glen has really gone home, he's no doubt living through the Tragedy. Right now, somewhere, Kevin's Oswald is staring at the man who's broken his heart, there are swords raised between them, and the duke is maybe just realizing that he's going to die on that blade because Jack Vessalius never did love him enough.

And Kevin can't do anything about it.

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He goes down, but he rolls when he hits, tumbling back up to his feet in a seamless movement. And as he bounces down and up, he realizes that the other Kevin is approaching from behind. He catches a glimpse of him in his peripheral vision, sidling up with his sword ready. It occurs to him that the other one might intend to drive him toward Lacie's Chains, or at least trap him between the two of them.

No.

Darting around, he grabs his doppleganger and hauls him around, essentially using him as a human shield. The other one laughs when he realizes what's happening. It won't work as well as he's hoping, but Lacie will have to slow down now, be a little more careful to avoid striking her own lover. That will help.

Lacie hisses out a curse, when she realizes what he's doing. Going back on the defensive, she edges back a bit, not wanting to take the chance of her Kevin being shoved at her moving shield. This complicates things, but it also puts the Kevins very close together, should her own Kevin have any plans up his sleeve.

Either way she can't very well attack, like this... at least not from the front. Sprinting to the side, she sends a pair of chains arcing at the werewolf's back, one from each direction. It's a trick she's used before, but it may distract him at the very least.

The trick up her own Kevin's sleeve is a trust that Lacie will do exactly what she has just done. The werewolf will have to move if he's going to avoid those chains, and if he moves, he either has to let his counterpart go or drag him along with him. As it happens, he decides on dragging -- and so the one-eyed one deliberately slumps, turning himself into dead weight in his arm. While the werewolf staggers and curses, Kevin drops his own sword and twists, getting his leg around the knight's and knocking him off balance. He doesn't hit the ground completely, shoving the swordsman into the ground instead of hitting it himself, but in this moment, he's vulnerable.

"Ha! Get him, Lacie, get him!"

Her Kevin has barely finished speaking, before the chains that had been arcing at Kevin's back change tactics. Rather than stabbing at him, they wind around the werewolf, like metallic boa constrictors ~~or tentacles in certain Hentai movies~~. With a delicate precision, they wrap him up neatly, without wrapping the other Kevin up with him in the process.

From there, it's a simple matter of thought for her to lift Kevin up off the ground. He can struggle all he likes, but she'll wager that werewolf or not, her abyssal chains are stronger.

Just for fun, she dangles him upside down.

The knight snarls, not a man at all, but an angry beast. Of course he struggles, because he really can't not, but even he can't get them to budge. The noise coming out of his throat is deep and full of thunder, a rolling expression of his anger, one that would probably be a lot more effective if he actually had the teeth to match at the moment.

The other Kevin has never really seen his own temper in action like this. It hurts a little, to essentially watch himself struggling in a way that is so very, very futile. Hits close to home. He'd had a notion that he might taunt the other man now that they've one, but seeing him like this takes all the joy out of it. Tilting his head over his shoulder, he looks to Lacie, letting her take the lead in what's to come next.

Lacie, it would seem, is quite a bit less affected than her lover, at the werewolf's plight. After all, he did just try to use her Kevin as a human shield. She doesn't stoop to taunting--given his obvious displeasure, and the fact that he now has to come share their bed, she suspects that would be rather hitting below the belt. However, she does let him dangle for a beat of silence, simply enjoying the view.

"Well," she says, finally, smiling. "I'd say we've won. Do you concede?"

Because if he really wants to struggle a little more, she'll let him.

Struggle he does, growling up a storm, and he's strong enough that the Rabbit gives an annoyed grunt in Lacie's head despite the fact that the Chains aren't going to budge. The longer the other Kevin watches, the more his pity changes to a disquieting anger. It's embarrassing, seeing this, and recognizing his own struggles, his own losses in the other one's temper.

So this is what he looks like. This is how he shows.

After a long, long several moments, he smiles pleasantly. Then he steps forward and punches his wolf twin right across his face, hard. Not bothering to wait and see his reaction, he turns and walks back into the house, leaving the other one quiet and stunned. That extra eye of his will be black tonight, but it will heal in a few hours.

The werewolf is not the only one stunned. While Lacie knows on an intellectual level that Kevin still struggles with a certain amount of self-loathing, she (who suffers comparatively little guilt for her own nearly world-ending sins) has not fully grasped its depth, until that sudden, vehement blow.

Concern for her own Kevin promptly dethrones her amusement at their victory. Abruptly, the chain around the wolf dissolves into shadows and dust, and she takes a step after her Kevin, before pausing.

"You're bested, knight." she says, softly, over her shoulder. "Fair and square. Honor it, or don't."

With that, she hurries after her lover.

While the other Kevin stays where he is and considers the world at large, Lacie will find her own in the study, pacing restlessly back and forth. Given that neither of them can be assed to move the shelves and the furniture lately, in this part of the house, the original wallpaper remains -- and it's his victim now. As he circles the room, he stops periodically to pry bits of it up where it's starting to peel anyway, tearing it from the wall and leaving the bits on the floor in a little pile.

He did this often, when they first moved in. But he hasn't in several months. Certainly not since the incident with the puppet monster, so it's been a good half a year. He was having plenty of fun before, but it seems the fight has jiggled something unpleasant loose.

Lacie lets the strips of water-stained old paper lay where it falls, just as she's usually done. Her attention is focused on him. For a moment, she misses the the puppet monster. It's always easier if there's something she can kill to make things better. Or at least more therapeutic.

Leaning against the door frame, she folds her arms loosely and watches him pace. This is far from the way she'd expected things to end, but since when is life the way you expect it to be?

"He doesn't have to stay, if you don't want him," she says, softly. "I could run a hot bath for you. We could play with the needles."

"I want to hurt him."

He's willing to say this, because it's Lacie. She knows all of his worst bits, and how to deal with them. Already she's offering him ways to feel better, instead of patting him on the head or trying to get to the bottom of what he's feeling. Because of that, he'll bother to try to articulate himself.

"He thinks he's better than me because he doesn't have the mark. Really, it just means he doesn't understand anything." With one of his middle fingers, he taps at his chest, right over the seal. "He's angry, but he doesn't know what it means to be angry and feel this."

She moves over to stand in front of him, and her hand slides up his chest, pressing against his mark. Merciless, the way he likes it.

"I think we already have, a little. We'll hurt him more." She glances over her shoulder. "If he stays. But I think he will." Turning back to him, she offers a cold, wry little smile. "I poked at his knightly pride, before I came in."

She traces a few of the dark lines from memory, through his clothes, eyes meeting his.

"We'll find out what makes him squirm, hmm?"

Kevin's answering half-smile is pained.

"Do as you like with him." It won't bother him if his own lover fucks this other Kevin senseless. She'd blow his mind even if she decided to be totally nice for once, which she won't, and he won't be happy about it, and this Kevin will take some satisfaction in that. "I may just watch. Or leave you to it."

He's not so sure the other Kevin really understands anything, and he's not sure he ever will. But he's not going to ruin Lacie's night over it.

Her touch moves upward, the sensual caress turning tender as she cradles his cheek.

"Whatever you want," she says softly, and if there is every a sign that Lacie loves him truly and deeply, it's that she can say that and mean it. She would like it best, if they could make the werewolf squirm and scream together. But if it's left to her to do it for the both of them, she will give him a good show.

Her heart still goes out to the werewolf, knowing the loss he's dealing with, but regardless of that, her primary concern will always be her own Kevin.

His own declaration of love comes back to her in the form of an affectionate nuzzle against her hair, despite the fact that every line in his body says that he really wants to go find somebody else to punch. Lacie is the one person in this world that he will never, ever raise a hand to, not unless she desires it -- and even then, he's the more submissive of the two. If Lacie wishes to be hurt, he'll oblige her. But Kevin never has any desire to cause her pain on his own, no matter how angry and twisted he feels.

"Go and fetch him, if you like," he says. "I'll -- be a minute."

His temper needs time to defuse a little. Then, they can see where they're at.

She leans up, brushing her lips against his.

"He'll scream for you, tonight, even if you don't lay a hand on him," she whispers, a promise. Considering that the first words out of Kevin's mouth a moment ago had been a desire for his counterpart to be hurt, the least she can do is her part in making that happen. When all's said and done, the wolf seems likely to even enjoy it, and perhaps that'll drive him a little closer to the understanding he hasn't got.

Turning, she goes out to see if their reluctant houseguest is going to keep his end of the wager or not.

Well, he's still there, which is a start. In a fit of Break-like pique, he's stretched himself out on the ground where he'd fallen, legs crossed at the ankle and hands clasped over his stomach. Yep. Here is a guy who is totally here on purpose. Nothing dubious going on in this here backyard.

...of course he thought of leaving. He knows perfectly well that he's been played. Everyone who knows him probably knows to play on his pride the way Lacie did if they want him to do something, but he can't exactly go against that, can he, not with something like pride. Pride is what you have when there's nothing else. So although he certainly considered it, he can't even leave out of spite. He doesn't turn his head when Lacie emerges, although he certainly knows that she is there, and the Headless Horseman can probably hear his teeth grinding all the way in the Marsh.

Lacie stares at him from the top of the porch steps for a long moment, her lips quirking in a wry smile. If his teeth hadn't been grinding, she would have been so strongly reminded of her Kevin. Her Kevin, though, would have either said fuck it and left, or he would've been laying there, utterly nonchalant instead of pretending to be.

This is a bit like having to go and comfort a petulant child.

Heaving a silent sigh, she steps down to the ground and goes to the werewolf, sitting down next to him.

"Do you know why he hit you?" she asks, conversationally. No sense asking him in, just yet. He'll just tell her no, most likely, if he answers her at all.

"Oh, for the same reason one of the older ones did in the last place, I imagine," he says, equally flippant -- which, ironically, makes him sound precisely the same as the elder ones. "At least this one had the decency not to do it the very instant he realized I still have two eyeballs."

Kevin is a petulant child. In his defense, though, he'll never grow out of that. None of them ever really will. Not completely.

She glances down at him, her expression impassive. She's only half-focused on the Kevin in front of her, remembering that night when a little girl's voice had pulled her own out into the dark streets and nearly gotten him killed.

"Then you know what he lost, because he didn't learn when to give up, until it was too late. Because he let his anger rule him."

She looks away, contemplative.

"Suppose Big Brother had been standing nearby, while you were struggling, up there, even though you were properly bested. Suppose the chain had broken, and the blade had flown into him. What would've happened, if he were human, the way that little girl had been human."

The knight turns to look at her, finally, and there's just as much anger in his face as the other Kevin carries. On the one hand, of course she's right -- he's got a shitty temper, and he's not really any better at dealing with it than he ever has been. Part of the reason he'd kept struggling was simply that he'd been pitching a tantrum. But there's a difference between small bursts of anger, tiny fits that don't last, and the cold, calculating decision his elders made to launch themselves into a crazed, murderous fairy tale.

"Don't make up bullshit scenarios to try and teach me a lesson," he snaps. "I know exactly what he's lost, and I also know exactly what he's destroyed. You know, nobody told me what I am? I was with people who knew and didn't say a word about it for a year, and I found out what's supposed to happen to me when a Kevin who still had his Chain murdered Lady Shelly. Her Chain went for help, but I didn't get there in time to stop him. That whole time everyone was probably wondering if I was out on the streets murdering people every night, but they were too polite to mention it, I guess. Instead I got to see one of the people who loves me most lying dead at my own feet while the Break who also got there too late screamed at me about how stupid I am."

He laughs a little, bitterly, and turns away.

"It was your brother I ran to that night. That was when he took me in. And if he hadn't talked me through it and made me think I was something worth protecting, that maybe I could be someone who didn't follow in their footsteps, I'd have given up then. So yes, I struggled, because for all I knew I could get out of your damned chains. And don't you dare compare a fifteen second struggle to win a spar to murdering a hundred people one by one because a magical chunk of armor appeared out of the sky and said it would work."

And yet, despite the tenseness in him -- despite the fact that he clearly wants to get up and pace, just as the other one is -- he doesn't get up to leave.

The launch... probably not so cold and calculated as all that. A decision as stupid as that could not be made with cold calculation. That probably came later, once he realized how many lives it would have to take to get what he wanted, perhaps a near miss with the authorities. After all, this Kevin stands as perfect proof that he'd not been the monster he became, at the start. He'd grown into it.

Lacie listens to his tirade, expression still impassive, though his story about how he'd discovered what he was capable of does soften her gaze. She is not shamed. She's barely capable of that. But it does prick at the compassion that hides in her core.

"Whether or not I did isn't the point. The point is he did."

She nods back toward the house.

"I doubt either of you understands each other so well as you think. Kind of funny, isn't it?"

"Well, he doesn't get to accuse me of his tragedy just because I wear his damned face. I'm never going to be him. I'm never going to be Xerxes Break."

But even as he says it, he tears a bit of grass out of the ground and shreds the blades of it, letting the torn pieces fall onto his stomach. He doesn't understand them, no, because he won't get close enough. They've already made it completely clear that they aren't going to let him.

"And I hate them just as much as they hate me."

"Neither will he," Lacie says, with a shrug. "He'll be my Kevin, just like you're Big Brother's Kevin." She tilts her head contemplatively, as she watches the unicorns in their nearby paddock. "I suppose little-me will eventually want a little you of her own, the way things are going..."

She shakes her head, focusing back on him.

"I think it's enough for him that you were just one step away from having been him. That's all he sees, right now. Who he used to be. He doesn't know you for you yet, just like you don't know him for him... You just see another Xerxes Break."

Plucking up a few blades of grass, she helpfully sprinkles them onto his head.

"I brought you here so you wouldn't be lonely," she says, a little ruefully.

"...tch. If I didn't want to be lonely, I could just go home. It's not like the house is empty."

He fidgets, looking like he wants to roll over, and looks away so she won't see his expression too clearly.

"But he's not in it. And he's not here, either."

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