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credere

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From:

credere

[A long silence, then, quietly:]

I don't know. What I want.

From:

magician_king

Fucking. Preach.

[He says, and then chokes on a little laugh, miserable and soft.]

Can I come over? You can kick me out if it feels shitty.

From:

credere

You can come. I'll - unlock the door.

[Since he has a new door, now. And a new cabin, very much per Quentin's sketches, with the various equipment he'll need to make it a home - tins of paint, wood to make bookshelves, fabric for curtains and so on. Credence clearly hasn't touched any of it, and when Quentin arrives he'll be sitting on the end of his bed. He's barely eaten in the last five days, hasn't left his room.]

From:

magician_king

Luckily, when Quentin arrives, he arrives with a thermos and with bread and butter and jam, because he knows him and knows himself.

When he sees the new design, the project ready to begin, he finally smiles again, looks around as he shuts the door behind him, before coming over to join him on the bed, sinking down with an achy sigh.

"Well, that's over and done with, thank fuck."

From:

credere

Credence gives him an uncertain glance as he settles himself next to him, then looks away.

"The people I killed are probably still tolling," he murmurs.

It doesn't feel over, not to him.

From:

magician_king

"Who'd you kill?"

Asks Quentin, with all his usual decorum, pouring him a cup of cocoa and offering it over, carefully.

From:

credere

Credence accepts it unthinkingly but just holds it.

"Fives. And - Lark."

He doesn't see Lark in his other form, often, but he recognises it when he sees it.

From:

magician_king

"Huh."

Says Quentin, flinching a bit- sorry Fives, it's been kind of a rough week where your subordinates have been concerned. Maintenance is not operating great, as a whole.

"Well, that really sucks. I'm sorry, Credence. You're a good person, and a good friend, and that shouldn't have happened to you."

From:

credere

Credence curls in around his cocoa.

"Nothing happened to me. I did it to other people."

From:

magician_king

"The flood happened to you, and made you do things to other people. Most of us would rather be killed than have that happen."

He points out, quietly.

"If you talk to Lark, and talk to Fives, they'd tell you the same."

From:

credere

The idea of talking to Lark or Fives, even though he knows he'll have to eventually, makes him feel nauseous even though there's nothing to throw up.

"I," he says, and then chokes up, because it was so much easier to talk to Shiro about this when she'd gone through the same thing. "I d-didn't see you."

From:

magician_king

"I became something different."

He says, and crumples, right away, reassurance failing him, face flushing hot and ugly, reaching to busy himself with tearing off bits of bread, slathering them with jam and better.

"It was quiet. I didn't reach out much."

From:

credere

"Oh."

And Credence hates seeing that happen to Quentin's expression, hates knowing that he's done that to him - so he pulls focus right back onto himself, regardless of how much it hurts to do it.

"....He didn't feel bad about anything. He didn't feel any - guilt. He didn't...doubt."

From:

magician_king

He blinks, and butters the bread, and instructs him;

"Drink your cocoa. Um." A watery breath. "That sounds like- a terrible relief. A freedom, but with sick consequences."

From:

credere

He sips at it. It's good, warm, and Quentin hasn't made it too sweet - but it still makes his stomach lurch.

"....sometimes I want to feel like that. Sometimes I want to just....not care."

From:

magician_king

"It sure seems like the people on board who don't give a shit are happier."

He agrees, and reaches to take the cup back, trading it for some bread.

From:

credere

Again, he takes it, but just looks at it for a long few moments before pushing some into his mouth.

"He - I wasn't happy. He was angry, all the time. But that's all he was."

Not shamed, not hurting. Just angry. There was a...cleanness to it, that he can only barely remember feeling now.

From:

magician_king

"That is. I've been there. Just clean, strong rage."

And, for the record;

"I ruined my life, giving into it. Got Alice killed."

From:

credere

Credence flinches, very slightly, and swallows his bread against the rising tide of bile in his throat.

"That's - why he liked her so much. He couldn't...really hurt her."

Sorry, Quentin, this has all been complicated by the weirding of his relationship with his kinda-not-really-girlfriend.

From:

magician_king

"You're not him, Credence. And you're going to find a way to feel okay without being just furious. And you should know- even if you do hurt people, sometimes, by accident, on purpose, once or twice- it doesn't mean you're not worthy of love."

He promises him this, with all his heart.

"Okay?"

From:

credere

Credence gives him the baleful look of someone who's spent his life being taught he's not worthy of love because he's a Hell-bound freak of nature, then eats another mouthful of bread.

"Okay."

From:

magician_king

"I love you. Even if you'd killed like, ninety people this flood, I'd still love you, despite having some concerns."

Says Quentin, matter of factly.

From:

credere

Credence just stares blankly into space for several long moments, while he chews and swallows. He can't unpack a statement like that. Wouldn't know where to start.

"...Okay."

From:

magician_king

He swallows, and looks down, going to fumble with the cocoa, pour himself a second glass, try to drown the suspicious little part of his brain that wants to try to interpret Credence's responses as apathy, dislike, rather than the result of specific, ongoing, long term abuse. Something to drink for himself, a little of that bread, and maybe a little silence will be all right.