"-getting depressed, so I decided to shake myself out of it by going on a quest to explore a far flung part of the world, and when I went down to look for a map in our library, I met Benedict. He was about your age, maybe a little younger, and he had black hair that he didn't quite- he was. He was a lot like us. And I told myself, if I ordered him to come along, I'd shake him into a new kind of assuredness. An adventure is what some people need. It's what I'd needed at his age."
"Yeah. And it worked. He learned to swordfight, he learned to sail, he became saltstained and sunbrowned, he shaved his head and turned upright and brave and bold-"
And he remembers not knowing what to feel.
"-and then he took an arrow in the neck. Because I was a fucking idiot and took him somewhere that kills people, because I have shitty judgement and forget that adventures are bloody nightmares."
A peaceful rest in death is, he thinks, more than a lot of people can hope
to gain in their lives. More than a lot of people do gain, if he accepts
even a fraction of his mother's teachings.
"...I don't understand. Do you want me to be afraid of you?"
"...but you're telling me so," Credence points out quietly, though he can't
quite bring himself to make the directly related observation. A lot of
people wouldn't.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-03-16 10:43 am (UTC)Is what he's learned over the years.
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Date: 2017-03-16 11:13 am (UTC)"I do too. I did. I thought..."
He blinks and stares at his feet.
"I thought better of someone than I should have done."
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Date: 2017-03-16 11:52 am (UTC)He does admit, readily.
"I'm sorry."
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Date: 2017-03-16 12:01 pm (UTC)"....I trust you," he whispers, like he's admitting some terrible flaw in his personality. "I don't even know if I should, but...I do."
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Date: 2017-03-16 01:19 pm (UTC)He admits, throat locking up tight.
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Date: 2017-03-16 01:46 pm (UTC)With no awareness of the weight that name carries, not beyond the way it makes Quentin's voice change, Credence can only nod.
"...alright."
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Date: 2017-03-16 01:50 pm (UTC)Actually, he decides they're going to need more context than this.
"It was a castle, in a world not like earth. Talking animals, lost islands, rolling blue seas filled with fantastic creatures."
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Date: 2017-03-16 01:54 pm (UTC)(Though this would be easier if he'd been read fairytales as a child.)
Fantastical lands, a castle, a library. He nods his understanding.
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Date: 2017-03-16 01:57 pm (UTC)He thinks this over, and puts it gingerly;
"-getting depressed, so I decided to shake myself out of it by going on a quest to explore a far flung part of the world, and when I went down to look for a map in our library, I met Benedict. He was about your age, maybe a little younger, and he had black hair that he didn't quite- he was. He was a lot like us. And I told myself, if I ordered him to come along, I'd shake him into a new kind of assuredness. An adventure is what some people need. It's what I'd needed at his age."
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Date: 2017-03-16 02:04 pm (UTC)Credence nods. This young man, this boy, he can picture readily enough.
"So he went with you?"
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Date: 2017-03-16 02:17 pm (UTC)And he remembers not knowing what to feel.
"-and then he took an arrow in the neck. Because I was a fucking idiot and took him somewhere that kills people, because I have shitty judgement and forget that adventures are bloody nightmares."
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Date: 2017-03-16 02:31 pm (UTC)That revelation, as harshly delivered as it is, makes him flinch.
It's hard to apportion blame any other way, with the way Quentin tells it. He forced this boy to go on an adventure and the adventure killed him.
"...is...is he why you came here?" he asks, very quietly. "When you were a warden."
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Date: 2017-03-16 02:35 pm (UTC)He admits, and scrubs his hand over his face.
"That story had a different ending. I was- in the afterlife, some time after that, and then again years later. I made sure he was resting peacefully."
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Date: 2017-03-16 02:45 pm (UTC)"Oh."
A peaceful rest in death is, he thinks, more than a lot of people can hope to gain in their lives. More than a lot of people do gain, if he accepts even a fraction of his mother's teachings.
"...I don't understand. Do you want me to be afraid of you?"
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Date: 2017-03-16 03:01 pm (UTC)He says, breathing out his nose.
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Date: 2017-03-16 04:00 pm (UTC)"...but you're telling me so," Credence points out quietly, though he can't quite bring himself to make the directly related observation. A lot of people wouldn't.
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Date: 2017-03-16 04:10 pm (UTC)He reasons, with a shrug.
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Date: 2017-03-16 04:14 pm (UTC)Credence lets the silence drag for several moments as he stares at the wood and the nails.
Then he offers a tiny shrug of his own, cautious, because his mother always hated it when he shrugged.
"I'm already dead."
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Date: 2017-03-16 04:32 pm (UTC)So, he gives him a bit of a crooked smile.
"Between the two of us, we'll make it."
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Date: 2017-03-16 04:37 pm (UTC)"Yes. I...I want us to."
He swallows hard, around the nauseating tightness in his throat.
"...I'll ask Mr Pinkman."
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Date: 2017-03-16 05:42 pm (UTC)He tests out, very carefully.
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Date: 2017-03-16 05:59 pm (UTC)Credence makes a nervous sound that might have been a laugh, coming from someone else.
"...C?"
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Date: 2017-03-16 08:53 pm (UTC)He wonders, thinking probably, not quite.
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Date: 2017-03-16 08:55 pm (UTC)"Is that a -- a nickname?"
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Date: 2017-03-16 01:55 pm (UTC)That in itself could bear much more explanation, but if Credence is good at anything, it's accepting things at face value.
(Though this would be easier if he'd been read fairytales as a child.)
Fantastical lands, a castle, a library. He nods his understanding