It begins here in the silence [closed]

[curruid_coinchenn]

Who: Berserker (Cú Chulainn Alter) and others
When: throughout Ieneuer
Where: various places
What: catch-all for the month
Warnings: check thread headers for specific warnings!

Comments

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Berserker doesn't pull away, letting Waver grab his bandaged wrist. It's odd to hear his more familiar name, the one from his True Name, coming from Waver. It doesn't bother him, though, and it actually makes him lift his head. His own tears stopped by now, though the sorrow and shame hadn't left him. He's taken aback a little bit by the sudden force of his admission.

It hadn't occurred to him that Waver felt guilty about what he did. Why it didn't is beyond him. Of course Waver would blame himself...Berserker didn't blame him. He wasn't in control of himself when it happened and had no way of being in control then. His expression turns suddenly serious as he stares at Waver. ]

... That wasn't your fault. [ The conviction is back in his voice suddenly, strength returning to it as he remembers how absolutely livid that terrible situation had made him. ] That was the fault of the pieces of shit that drugged you and no one else.

[ Berserker sits back down and fiddles with the medallion. The passion in his voice is gone, replaced with quiet resentment. ]

It was their fault...All of this is their fault.

[tryhard]

[ Waver doesn't look up, though he can feel Berserker's eyes on him. He scrubs at his tear-stained face with the clean bandages on his wrists and the heels of his palms, his breathing loud and ragged, hiccuping as he tries to get it back under control. ]

That's true... so then, by that logic, you can't blame yourself either. And it's not your fault, or anyone's but the people who actually did all those horrible things, but--

[ But it happened. They both got hurt. They'd both been used against one another in such awful ways, and Waver still feels sick with himself for what he did, even if it had been forced. It will take time to get past that. Just as he's sure it will take time for Berserker to stop blaming himself for perceived weakness. ]

This is what they wanted. To make us doubt and hurt each other to keep everyone under their control. They want you to feel weak. But you're not. Don't let it get to you...

O-or try. At least, try not to. And I'll try too.

[ Waver slides off the chair and onto the edge of his bed slowly, carefully, giving Berserker time to stop him if he wants. Berserker is large, filling up most of the infirmary cot, but Waver doesn't need that much room. ]

I don't want to leave... Is it okay if I stay? At least until Diarmuid comes back...

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ He doesn't respond to Waver's reasoning, at least not verbally, just giving a weak nod. Waver is right: this is exactly what they wanted. A sick feeling settles into the pit of his stomach that makes his expression darken. It's not a pleasant thought knowing he played right into their hands. Even if things had gone differently, if he'd been stronger or if he hadn't lost a Bond, something worse may have happened. A feral dragon was a dangerous thing and extremely easy to use against others. He tries not to think about worse possibilities than what already occurred; there was no sense in upsetting himself further.

Berseerker scoots over in the bed to give Waver enough room. He'd managed a nap cuddled up to Flat in this bed already and Waver's about the same size. ]

...You can stay, I don't mind.

[ It's better than being alone with his thoughts and his shame. ]

[tryhard]

[ And even shorter than Flat! So he can be tiny curled up, it'll be fine!

Waver is very careful when climbing onto the side of Berserker's bed, making sure not to jostle him and minding both of their injuries. He hates being in the infirmary, and he's sure Berserker's not having a great time of it, either-- but there's not much they can do. He just wants some sense of normalcy restored, some reassurance that they'll be okay, not just physically but also their relationship as friends and... more, in a way. They don't have a Bond officially, but having mutual Bonded and people so close to both of them has helped build a very close bond of the unofficial variety. The cracks in that trust aren't either of their faults, but they are there now. Trust that needs to be rebuilt, even if it wasn't intentionally broken. ]

...thanks.

[ Waver waits for him to settle before curling up against Berserker's side. The guilt still weighs heavily on his chest; it will take time to fade, no matter what Berserker says. It will take time to trust himself completely, after he'd been made to doubt his own reality and control of himself so often and so much. That's been the hardest part: the physical wounds will heal, but those gaps in his memory when he knows he was forced into a feral state and weaponized against his fellow prisoners, those won't go away. It won't help to know what fills them, either. He just has to learn to accept it wasn't his fault and let it go. Someday. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Berserker, too, will someday need to accept the fact that nothing was the fault of his weakness. It's unlikely that day will ever come and he will always blame himself for being too weak to resist, too weak to defend himself, and too weak to protect anyone. That guilt gnaws at him painfully as Waver curls up against him. If things had turned out differently, maybe if he hadn't lost a Bond, he would've been nothing more than a feral beast left in that cell, lashing out at everyone and everything in his pain and anger to be free. It's equally painful to think about that option...

He ignores it, though, and slips an arm around the turnskin. This is familiar and it's actually happening. Geralt's necklace is still clutched in his free hand, the pendant held close to his chest as he lets his eyes close. Maybe...some rest would be okay right now. It's better than being awake and his body will heal faster. A little rest until Diarmuid returns is alright. Maybe the nightmares won't plague him this time, the way they didn't when he napped with Flat.

He could hope, at least, that everything would be alright. It would never be the same again, but maybe it will be okay eventually. And that would be fine. ]