tramitem_log | ♫And I drive myself crazy thinking everything's about me♫

Entry tags:

♫And I drive myself crazy thinking everything's about me♫

Who: Elliott, Clarence, Yotsuyu (in time) and perhaps more TBD

What: Elliott has a memory and now everything is falling apart

When: Monday Afternoon/Evening

Where: The Naeuri's

Rating/Warnings: PG-13 at most? for Angst, Suffering, possibly even swearing (gasp!) on Clarence's part. Also, SPOILERS will be indicated in threads as they appear

Yotsuyu had told him not to panic but those words usually accompanied something pretty severe. Elliott was having a hard time. Elliott needed a friend. He needed Clarence. And that was enough for him to ask Kris to borrow her bike again. She gave her blessing with a concerned look, but she didn't question it and that was for the best because Clarence was off as soon as he could.

It wasn't until he was knocking on the door that he took a moment to check his phone, only to find a text from Elliott saying to not bother heading over. That... didn't seem normal, but it was too late now. Yotsuyu let him in with a soft work of welcome and gave him a gentle squeeze to his arm before indicating that he should head to Elliott's room.

Biting his lip, unsure, Clarence found himself at Elliott's door. He knocked, not wanting to intrude if he really wasn't wanted but... Heavens above, he wanted Elliott to be okay.

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He's a mess. He can't stop crying. Guilt and weight of complete and utter failure drag him down whenever he thinks he might feel just a tiny bit better.

"I'm fine!" He snaps at the door, not sure there's ever been a time he's felt or sounded less fine. Except maybe this morning, when he was an incoherent mess of upset lost to memory and dogged by lingering fear.

The fear is gone now, instead overtaken by a loss so utterly desolate that his stomach bottoms out every time his mind even brushes against it.

Rationally, he knows he's being stupid and worrying people, but on no level does he feel qualified to handle company no matter how well-meaning.

"I told you not to come!"

Worry is replaced by outright tension underlain by a frisson of fear. That didn't sound like Elliott. Not that kind of raw, feral growling.

Swallowing, Clarence didn't try to open the door but he couldn't just leave. He dug his hands into this hoodie pocket and tried to stabilize his own reactions. He took a deep breath and spoke through the door.

"Sorry El. I didn't see your text until I was just getting here... um." He swallowed again, leaning a little closer to the door. "Your mom is worried. She said you needed a friend so... I'm here."

Elliott buried his head in his knees, fingers clenching.

"Well you can't help and I'm not going to feel better, so you're just-" his voice broke, anger giving way to upset and pitching higher. "Just wasting your time!"

It was like a downpour blocking out the sunshine. Clarence hadn't heard anything even remotely this helpless from Elliott before, not even when he was upset with Anthony refusing him a job placement. Or when Clarence flubbed up when Elliott was first going on about the gods in the other world. This was an entirely different kind of low and Clarence didn't know if he could help, yeah, but still...

"Elliott," he said after a moment, voice still soft but loud enough to be heard beyond the door, "you're never a waste of time. Not to me."

The words bolstered his spirit for only a moment before the foundation the sentiment stood on broke and utterly collapsed, bringing with it a fresh wave of tears.

"I am," he said miserably, trying and failing to stifle his hiccups and sniffling. "I really am. You just.. don't know it yet."

"Oh, El..." How did he help with this? He sounded absolutely heartbroken. It was terrible and Clarence was just standing outside the door.

He swallowed back again. "Hey. Can I come in?"

Elliott stared blearily at the door, the words to a refusalon the tip of his tongue.

"..Why?" he found himself saying instead. "So you can see what a total mess I am?"

"Because I think you need a hug. And... And I have something to say to you." Simple as that.

He swallowed, eyes squeezing shut and betraying another cascade of the tears he can't seem to stop. Surely he'd run out eventually, right?

Elliott curled his arms more tightly around his knees.

"What- whatever, I guess."

Not the best way to gain access, but it was better than barging in without any consent whatsoever so Clarence was going to call it a win.

Stepping inside, Clarence immediately moved to Elliott, flopping down to his knees and putting his arms around Elliott. He didn't squeeze, he didn't want to make it hard for his friend to breathe on top of all that crying he was obviously doing, but he wanted to just be a pressure there.

"Hey," he said at first, trying to work up the strength to say what else he needed to say. He couldn't be sure if he wouldn't start crying himself, but that was the least of his worries this time around. All he knew is if he didn't get Elliott at least back to neutral, he was an absolute failure as a best friend.

"Look." Another breath, then he pulled away just enough so he could look Elliott in the eye if his friend bothered to try. "Listen. I don't know what you saw and you don't have to say anything about it. It's your business. You can cry as much as you want, you can scream and throw a fit if that helps. I won't judge."

Another breath. "But I want you to know... things don't have to be okay, you know? You don't have to be okay with what it is or whatever. You don't even have to get over it if you don't want to." And now he was blinking rapidly, trying to keep his own encroaching thoughts from taking over.

"It's okay to feel bad for as long as you want or need to. No one can take that from you."

Elliott's eyes flickered away from Clarence's, too wet and self-conscious to maintain it. He only felt more fragile for the embrace, and the words rushed over him, barely penetrating through the haze enough to make sense.

At least Clarence didn't expect him to pretend to be okay, because there was absolutely no way he can even begin to try. The persisting hiccups and halting breaths as he worked to speak through tears served to make that clear enough.

"It- it's not like I want to be like this. I just- it's all my- my fault and I failed everyone, and I don't think there's a way it can ev- ever get better."

He raised a hand to mash over his face and fruitlessly wipe at the steady stream of water running out of his eyes.

"I just want to help and I keep- keep messing up and making everything wor- worse. I'm too stupid and too- too weak to do anything right."

It was a cruel parallel to the current state of his life, as though proving he was only ever destined to fail no matter which reality he lived in.

"I'm even a t-terrible friend," he confessed miserably. "And you sh-shouldn't care about me."

Edited 2020-07-07 15:30 (UTC)

"No one wants to be like this, but that doesn't mean you have to force yourself to get better for anyone else's sake either." Misery was, well, miserable. But no one had the right to tell Elliott to get over himself or suck it up. "Sometimes you just gotta let these things run their course. Even if things don't really get any better, time will mute the effects eventually."

Mute the effects. Not erase them, never quite make it better; just make life livable again.

"Hey," Clarence cooed, trying to soothe as best he could, "no one is asking for you to be superman, or be perfect, or to always succeed. Sometimes life is just going suck and you'll fail. Over and over and over again. Just know, you got me to lean on if you need me. Even if you just want to cry and fall apart."

He tried to pull Elliott into a hug again, again not being forceful about it but hoping that his friend would listen to his words and just allow himself a moment of weakness here.

Even if Elliott felt like he didn't deserve care right now, Clarence was determined to give it for as long as Elliott needed it.

Elliott swallowed and let his stomach jump through breaths while feeling like he was falling further apart for all his friend's support, comfort, and willingness to hold him. Goddess, he couldn't even do that right.

No one here was asking for perfection or to be superman, but people in that other world certainly were. Here, he just seemed to be doing his level best to make everyone hate or distrust him. The feeling of isolation creeping in like he didn't belong and didn't deserve anything or anyone.

He shook his head. "You- you wouldn't be here if you knew that I- I.."

His voice wavered and dropped, briefly torn between the crushing guilt of hiding the truth and not truly wanting Clarence to hate him despite feeling like he may as well ruin this friendship too, because it was bound to happen eventually anyway and it may as well be now.

"I had- had drinks at the tavern, okay?" Elliott curled further into himself with a sharp, wet inhale. He really was a complete mess. "So, I really am a- a waste of time and you can- can stop caring about me now."

Edited 2020-07-07 16:08 (UTC)

Clarence had once gone horse-riding with the Blakelys when he was very young. It had been a much simpler time and he had been the biggest spoiled brat, but his father and mother, being the patient, caring and respectful people they were had still managed to get him to behave well enough to not scare the horse his father was riding.

It was a stupid memory to have come up but it flashed through Clarence's mind just as his breathe caught in him, suddenly feeling as though he somehow still knew what it must feel like to get kicked in the chest by a horse. Oh god, oh christ, oh fu--

Clarence jerked away, putting about a foot of space between himself and his... friend. Elliott what his friend. Elliott was a sweet, caring person. Elliott wouldn't hurt anyone. He wouldn't hurt Clarence. He wouldn't. But the steel-cold grip of fear that chased through his veins and seized his chest needed a moment. Or two. Or three.

Fighting against utter panic, Clarence pressed his hands against his face, trying to slow his breathing. Hearing Elliott's own erratic half-sobs weren't helping.

This was... He couldn't...

"... haaaah," he breathed, unable to help the quiver in his voice, forcing words to try and soothe his own racing heart and mind. "Okay... okay okay okayokayokayokayokay..."

What had he gotten himself into? What was this? A nightmare?

"That's... But... Why..."

The separation was instant, alongside the resulting guilt and bitterly justified flash of hurt. It only took this one, simple thing to ruin his relationship with his best friend. And didn't he deserve it?

"Because I'm stupid! Because the only- only thing I'm really good at is messing everything up!"

He threw a glare at his former friend, but instead of the anger and hatred he'd expected to find on Clarence's face, he found only fear. It was unexpected enough that concern niggled distantly in his chest, discordant.

A bit of his own fear returned. He checked his hands, pressed them to his chest, then glanced behind him just in case.

"Clarence, is- is something happening?"

Because I'm stupid!

Okay. Okay. Okay yeah, makes sense. Makes sense, but still hard to process full as he was now.

Still attempting to not hyperventilate and regain his grip on the here and now, Clarence glanced around the room and tried to identify things. That had helped in the past, sometimes, now he just need to ground himself in the present. Yeah, just... things.

"I just...," he gasped, pressing his hands against the sides of his head as if to keep it from exploding out from all the damn blood rushing through it, "... just... just give me a minute. Just a... just a minute..."

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mother is unrepentant at best

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SPOILERS- CAGER DO NOT READ

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