[In the weeks following this post, Steve will receive an embroidered badge, designating them part of Aloy’s monster hunting crew. There doesn’t seem to be anything special about it—it can be sewn anywhere the wearer likes, and appears to have been stitched with a practiced hand.
If the wearer is incapacitated, a spell woven into the threads by Haelva will activate, allowing the user to send an emergency message to another member of the group—use it wisely.]
post-nero kicking it, but before the network post.
[ Geralt wastes no time contacting Steve. He knows who Nero was with when the monster struck, and though he is assured Steve is physically safe, his mind is swirling with a dozen broken thoughts.
He does not want to pause and grieve. The thought of it churns his stomach. He swallows the bitterness that threatens to rise and turns his focus towards another instead. Somebody who needs him. Who he knows will feel the loss as deeply as he has.
And who he needs to see with his own eyes is in one piece. But he knows, too, Steve may need...time. He can't tell if the boy has made it someplace safe or if he may still be with Nero. (The body.) So he keeps his message brief. ]
[ in the hours that follow, steve doesn't feel much of anything at all. it feels a bit like a haze, and a bit like an automatic reactions - a machine, that slips in when everything else blacks out. he remembers it happening, remembers nero's face, remembers forest and the trees and that fucking shrine off to the side. he remembers wanda - he'd called for her, didn't he? - showing up and he remembers somehow getting home and he remembers eddie, god. god. he's going to have to apologize to eddie, about this, about all of it-
but steve doesn't know what happens in the between. doesn't know just how much time has passed or what he's done or even when he saw the message. was it a moment ago? was it hours? he's not covered in blood anymore, even if he can still smell it everywhere, can barely breathe because it's the only thing he can smell, his nostrils thick and coated and-
geralt. geralt messaged him. asked where he was. the physical answer is curled up in a corner of his and eddie's apartment, his face tucked into his knees and some kind of bag of spices tucked against his chest. eddie is...gone. elsewhere. either getting food that steve won't eat or telling the family whose farm they live on what happened or...who knows. but geralt asked and some weird, fragile part of steve doesn't want to answer because he doesn't want to say it but-
fuck. god. he doesn't want to talk to people. doesn't want to say it. but it's also geralt and maybe it's...hopeful, of him, but something tells him geralt already knows. ]
[ He weighs his words carefully. He and Steve are close, but there's a distance, too; he looks after Steve's training, makes sure Steve knows what he's capable of—because nothing gets you killed faster than failing to understand your reach—and on occasion, offers a little more when he glimpses something there. The steel-walled cellar, the monsters that lurked in his domain.
But as with most, Geralt doesn't pry. Steve is more than old enough to look after himself. Has been through his share of shit. And here and now, he's cautious of digging into a wound as fresh as it is.
It doesn't help he isn't physically there. He can't walk by and simply look in on Steve.
[ there may be a distance, yes, but steve doesn't see it in the same way geralt does. there is always some part of him that knows how geralt ties to all of this - the chance to learn to use a weapon, the introduction to nero, the confidence steve ha- had, at least, in being able to do something more than just stand around. geralt had always been the one steve was looking to impress, to study and to work and to be better to show him.
that realization in the moment, though, makes steve feel that much smaller. that much worse. and it's not that it's geralt's fault in all this; it's just another reminder of how much steve can't figure out. how even in some weird, other world planet country thing, he's still managing to mess up his entire life.
or- rather. everyone else's lives. nero's life.
fuck. steve doesn't remember if he's ever felt this kind of hole in his chest. this kind of weight. there's a version he felt with Eddie, when he pulled dustin through the gate to the other side, but that had been different. almost in opposite. and steve hadn't been there for that. hadn't sat there, blood on his hands, as nero-
geralt's writing cuts into steve's thoughts, reminding him to breathe. to settle. if you'd like to see me he says, and steve... doesn't know what he wants. doesn't know if he's being childish, if he should just buck it up and get over it. he knows he's freaking people out, knows that it isn't helping anyone, how paralyzed he's acting right now, but nero- ]
i
[ he doesn't mean to respond, and the moment he knows he has fills him with a kind of panic. does he want to see geralt? does he want to see anyone?
the thought then follows that maybe, somehow, by going to the horizon this will feel easier. that maybe the pressure on his chest will lessen, he'll feel less stuck. anything can be anything there, right? so maybe that can be an escape. ]
[ The stuttered reply shimmers. Geralt waits for the rest to come. If Steve says no, that will be that. He can ask Himeka to look in on the situation—come find Steve a few days later when matters have settled a bit.
But a no is not what comes. ]
I'll be there.
[ Geralt arrives on foot, strolling down the winding road towards the ice cream shop—the simplest place to start. Thick trees line the street, and a light fog covers the area in a haze. Halfway up, he finds Steve, sat to the side between nothing in particular.
He stops. After a second, he sits down beside Steve. Grief is a palpable weight. It blankets the air, suffocating. In truth, he doesn't know what to say. The wound is raw for him, too. More so because he wasn't there. It feels as though he should have been.
He might've stopped it. ]
I spoke to him. At the end. [ In case there was any doubt about what he knows. He flexes his fingers and thinks about driving his sword through his brother. People like them—they were always meant to die bloody. But it makes it no easier to bear. ]
something in the back of steve's mind tells him to run. to not show up. to stay in whatever limbo place he's in right now in the corner of his apartment because the idea of moving, even into some kind of hallucination space, feels too heavy a weight.
but he also doesn't geralt to show up and steve isn't there. the idea of getting a message asking where he is-
he blinks, and he's standing on the side of the highway - the same winding road that he grew up on, learned to drive on, that takes him through the forests right outside of town and if he followed it further along, scoops ahoy should be...
steve sits, right there on the side of the road. it's weird, how he just doesn't have the energy, how the thought of just standing there feels too much. he'd wanted the horizon to make this easier, to feel lighter than this, but instead it feels a bit more in the opposite.
he hears geralt's footsteps, feels him come to a stop and pause before joining him on the side of the road. the grass is damp, thick with dew from the fog, and steve feels it start to seep through his jeans. his sweatshirt. it clings to him and presses.
geralt's voice is what pulls him out of it, finally turning to look at the other man. he's not crying anymore, doesn't know if he has it in him to try, but something in his eyes is...not knowing, exactly, but not surprised. I spoke to him he says, and steve's chest clenches. ]
What'd he say?
[ that voice from earlier offers answers before geralt does, mocking and sharp and painful. steve fucked up or he let me die or this never should have happened, I shouldn't have brought him. there's a part of steve that knows none of it is true, and even if nero's words had leaned in that direction, he doubts geralt would tell him.
after another second, steve's eyes go down to his hands. ]
Yeah. Eddie's- [ steve's throat feels suddenly tight, flashes of his fight with Eddie before this all happened popping up and then fading. how eddie had been there, when he'd stumbled back home, covered in nero's blood. he takes a breath, and feels it shake as it leaves him. ] Yeah.
[ Now that the question is out there, Geralt finds he hasn't got an answer. He knows what Nero said. He remembers, sees it a bit too clearly scrawled across his vision, practically heard it in his fucking voice, but he doesn't know what he's to tell Steve. He rarely grieves in company. He prefers to do it alone, surrounded by no one, and he finds having Steve here is...difficult. It's different to feel the weight of the loss himself and also bear another's.
It isn't Steve's fault. ]
He said you did good. [ Whether Steve will believe it is another matter. He thinks it's important to hear regardless. ] And not to blame yourself.
[ For a long moment, he says nothing else. A silent mist curls from behind the thicket of trees. The Horizon is often quiet. It's why he comes here to escape the bustling crowd of Cadens. The solitude is usually a comfort. For the first time, the isolated landscape is almost lonely. He misses him. He carries a number of tokens from Nero, and he has not looked at any of them since he received Nero's last words.
He glances over. ] I won't tell you not to hold yourself responsible. Each time, you ask if you could've done more. [ Moved faster, made a different choice, said something else. It's what it is. The questions never stop. ] But you should try to forgive yourself.
[ It's as Nero said. The guilt will consume you to your core, and leave nothing behind. And what would that accomplish, in the end? ]
[ steve, upon asking, immediately regrets asking at all. he is so hungry for the concept that maybe this isn't happening, that maybe nero isn't gone, and his chest tightens around the very idea of it. any mention of nero saying anything, of nero doing anything, feels like it could be a clue that would turn this all around. what did he say he asks, because he does want to know, wants to hear if there's some kind of hidden message, something nero would tell geralt about where he's hiding, what backup plan he's made, where-
but also, he knows. he knows how wrong he is. does he want to know nero's last words to geralt? because he'd gotten some of them himself, nero's last speech, his last words, his-
fuck. fuck. steve starts trembling slightly, unable to stop it, unable to keep his cool. geralt speaks after a moment, and steve doesn't know if there had been a pause or if the answer had come immediately after the question or-
he said you did good. and not to blame yourself.
the snort that rips free of steve is harsh, angry, short but definitive. it also brings out a burning behind steve's eyes, one that has him shutting them, holding them shut in an attempt not to embarrass himself further. he shouldn't have asked, really, because he knows it's not true. whatever nero wants to say, wanted to say, it's- it's not true.
if steve had done good, none of this would be happening, now, would it?
he clenches his hands into fists, holds himself so tight it hurts. then holds it for a second or two longer as he focuses on the silence in the air around him. if this were actually hawkins, a car would have driven by by now. someone probably would have stopped, seeing two people sitting in the grass beside the road, wondering if they're okay. but this isn't hawkins, there isn't anyone who is going to stop, and steve- steve hates it, in a way. misses home more than he has in over a year. misses it like a hole, driven solidly through his chest.
( but what does he have waiting for him there? )
there are a few seconds here where geralt doesn't say anything else, and where steve's entire focus is on keeping himself from crying. just- holding it back as much as he can. he breathes quickly at first, holding his eyes closed, refusing- refusing to be this pathetic. it takes a few more seconds before it evens back out, before he takes a breath and doesn't feel it rattle in his chest.
he doesn't see geralt look over to him, but he feels it, just as he feels the cool dampness of the grass under him.
you should try to forgive yourself.
steve is quiet for another moment, and then another more. when he finally relaxes, when he finally opens his eyes, they're red. his head hurts. he watches as his fists unclench, slowly. ] Sure. [ he shakes his head. ] Sorry, yeah. I'll. Try.
[ he won't - or at the very least, won't yet. but part of him thinks geralt knows that too. ]
Has- [ steve stops, swallows, then looks over to geralt through his hair. ] Has this happened before? One of us... summoned or whatever. [ steve doesn't really think much about the question before asking it, the words slipping out of him before he has time to think. ] Has anyone actually died?
[ Yeah. Bitterness is an old friend. Pain is personal. He can't tell Steve how to feel. But he thinks, with enough time and distance, Steve will eventually find the words a comfort.
He pauses. It's a difficult question. When they escaped Thorne, they'd lost people along the way. Their return from the tunnels was the same. He doesn't know what the difference is: death in the caves, disappearances through the portals. But Nero—a visible, bloody death. He supposes that's not occurred before. Not...permanently. ]
It was Dean. [ His voice is quiet. ] When we returned from the mountains, they told me he was taken by a leviathan. Then weeks later—he came back wrong. I thought I'd have to put him down. I nearly did.
[ This is the first time he's spoken of it to anyone. Not every return is a blessing. He's glad Dean is all right, he does not regret that they saved him, but nor is he blind to how much happenstance saving him involved. The Mark. His blood. Ciri's blood. The fucking angel.
Steve's eyes are red-rimmed, and something catches inside Geralt's chest. He turns, not quite reaching for Steve but close enough side by side that their shoulders brush. There's more silence, more empty air, before he speaks again. ]
Would you like to see his domain? [ When Rinwell vanished, Geralt had retrieved one of her owls. It helped. Perhaps Steve will find a keepsake of his own, something to preserve in a place where all traces of him might otherwise vanish. Only a few hours have passed. It should still be standing. ]
[ he will, in time. maybe. hopefully. steve's not really experienced where all this is concerned - he's been around death, watched death happen, lived through the aftermath of what is left behind. but he's always had just enough distance - a grandmother he didn't really know, his girlfriend's best friend, a guy who'd been dating the byers' mom, even hopper had felt... not real, in some weird way. eddie would have been the closest, Eddie would have hurt more, if moments after finding out about his death steve hadn't been pulled through the pond and seen the other boy alive and well.
this... he doesn't know if it's better, or worse, that he was there. that he knows his part in it played a role. as much as he tries, he can't pull himself from the spiral - that he's glad he was there because then nero wasn't alone, that he hates himself for being there because anyone else might have actually saved him. might have done something that would have helped.
still - it doesn't change things, and perhaps with time steve will be able to think about it without feeling like his chest is collapsing in on itself. for now, he just tries to breathe, tries calm down. he asks geralt not because he thinks it'll change anything, necessarily, but instead to hopefully feel like he wasn't the first person to ruin someone else's life while here in abraxas.
but geralt's answer doesn't... help. not in the way steve was hoping. instead, it pulls his attention - from nero, from death - towards the larger man, brow furrowed in confusion. ] Dean? [ dean has been... well, he supposes he has geralt to thank for whatever it is dean has been. after the destruction of steve's basement, dean has turned into someone that steve has turned to, gone to, not unlike geralt himself but... different.
dean felt familiar, and while steve doesn't want to say normal, he also kind of does. but hearing that he's died, here, and that it's something steve hadn't even thought possible...
wrong. steve frowns. ] What do you mean wrong? What happened?
[ he knows that geralt doesn't have to tell him, knows that there's as much of a chance geralt won't that he will. but steve feels himself cling onto this piece of information, cling on to this potential story, a lot more than geralt probably intended. he won't give words to the thoughts, not yet, but if dean came back then-
no. no, he's focused on this right now. on a dean winchester who apparently died, who came back wrong, who geralt almost had to kill and. yeah. that.
geralt shifts, brushes their shoulders together, and something in steve's chest unfurls. there is a part of him that's terrified that in the relaxing, he'll just fall apart. that every wall he's been holding together with glue and prayers will just crumple, just like he feels like doing, and that will be that. but it doesn't- at least right now it doesn't.
steve turns to look at geralt when he speaks, at first confused, but then realization settling in moments after. oh- steve didn't even think about that. didn't realize that domains could linger. he thinks for a moment if it's something he can even handle before he nods. pushes to his feet. ]
[ Geralt had not thought it possible, either, until it happened. He shakes his head. He isn't sure why he chose to address it now. Perhaps he's been thinking about it. Death. Two of the people closest to him. He had spoken to Nero about it. When he realized (believed) Dean was dead, he'd found Nero and said that Dean was gone. He wonders if he should tell Dean now of the same. They didn't know each other well, but that isn't what it's about. ]
A dark force corrupted him. He carried a mark into Abraxas from his world. When he died, it both saved and consumed him. He hurt Ciri. [ A simplified version of the shit that transpired over those months. ] We burnt it out of him, but... [ He hesitates. ] For a time, I felt as though I'd allowed each of them to be in harm's way. That I should've done more.
[ He leaves the tale there, unsatisfying as it may be. Geralt rises to his feet with Steve. They walk. Nero's domain isn't far; as they draw near, he can see the looming spires of a foreboding tower and a starkly out of place vehicle parked beneath it. The red phone booth. Is that massive cat still there? Or has it been the first to vanish, unsustainable in the face of its creator's absence?
He stops at the entrance. It's quiet. No sounds of skittering claws or shrieking beasts.
Unlike how it'd been with Rinwell, Geralt is not compelled to take a memento. Nero gave him his brother's sword. That serves as memory enough. Perhaps Steve might find something he wants, though, inside that ridiculous van filled with junk and the stench of tobacco. ]
I used to send him monsters to fight. He liked the challenge. Said there wasn't much to kill in Solvunn.
[ it's a lot of information for Steve to process at once - a corrupted mark, dean's death, the fact he's back, that he hurt Geralt's daughter, that they had to burn it out of him like some kind of... he doesn't even know. monster? creature? he doesn't know that he actually processes most of it, doesn't know if he really understands what geralt is saying, but he nods like he does.
that I should have done more.
Steve understands the feeling. has been holding it close to his chest since Nero's death. it's an hold friend at this point, that guilt, that pressure. Steve is quiet for a few moments after, trying to find his way through the feeling, the weight.
they both stand and start walking, making their way to Nero's domain. Steve doesn't know it well, having spent most of his time with Nero in person, in solvunn or abraxas or whatever you wanted to call it all. but he has seen it at least once before, recognizes the spires and the rv, the phone booth. he wonders about shadow, too, but not for long - assuming she's gone just like Nero is.
everything is so quiet, so still. it feels wrong to be here without any noise, either music or sounds of monsters, of life. but instead there is nothing. Steve comes to a stop once they're there, probably a hundred paces or so from where the rv is still parked. there doesn't seem to be any reason for Steve to have stopped, other than it feels a bit like he needs to prepare himself for this.
it's ironic, really. geralt saying things like Nero claiming there wasn't much to kill in solvunn, knowing that Nero had been killed by those same things. a thing. some kind of god. Steve looks around the domain like there might be another clue hidden there, maybe Nero himself, preparing to jump out like it is all some kind of prank. but even as Steve thinks it, he can feel how hallow the thought, the wish, is.
it's exhausting, he's exhausted, but he can't stop now. ]
This is all gonna disappear, isn't it? Now that he's gone.
[ He stays near Steve, but gives the young man some room, lingering by the old telephone box that stands by the grounds. He didn't visit Nero's place often; Nero was often in the vehicle or trekked to Kaer Morhen to find him instead. In truth, this domain never really felt like Nero's. He suspected Nero built it just to build something...but that, like any hunter, Nero was not particularly attached to a place.
But there are echoes here nonetheless. It hurts. It's an old pain, too. He is no longer capable of remembering what it was like the first time, when it was fresh and new and he didn't understand how sharp the ache could be or how long it would last. The way it would rear its head at the most unexpected of times, days or weeks later. Now it's simply...
What he knows.
Words help little, so he says nothing while Steve absorbs his surroundings, only inclines his head in confirmation. Yes. It will. Swallowed up by time like everything else. ]
He'd want you to have something.
[ Or all of it, perhaps. He can imagine Nero scoffing at the idea that any of his dilapidated shit was to be preserved, that the only thing of value he truly owned was his sword and his guns, but...deep down, Nero would appreciate it, too. That Steve might want to keep something. ]
[ steve's eyes wander over the spires, over the land and the horizon and then back to the van. hovering over the van, watching it. it's another few moments later that there's movement from inside, a dark shadow that passes by a couple of the mirrors before slipping out the door. shadow slinks out onto the space in front of the van, stretching once now that she's got the space, and then taking a seat. she considers steve first, then geralt, before her eyes go back to steve.
steve... doesn't really know what to make of it. he looks to geralt first, like geralt would have some sort of answer, some explanation for what's going on. he doesn't get an answer - of course he doesn't - so steve just sort of takes a step. walks over, closer to the van, hesitantly. he half expects shadow to start hissing, to be protective and tell him to piss off to somewhere else.
she doesn't.
still, steve gives her a respectful distance - peeking into the drivers seat of the van, catching little clues, an ash tray, a roll of lipstick. other than the details, the actual van, the drivers and passenger seats, they're about what he expects. an idea forms, rough around the edges but slowly forming.
he'd want you to have something. steve looks up. shadow stood at some point, moved to follow steve where he's walked closer to the front of the van, but she doesn't seem to be concerned. steve smiles at her, hesitantly, then looks to geralt. ]
You think so? [ he asks, uncertain, before the thought solidifies. he looks back to shadow, like she's the one he has to get the okay from now. something in how she looks back at him does it, and steve nods to himself before he is moving, quick, pulling open the drivers' side door and slipping in.
it smells a bit like someone is used to sitting here, something like cigarette smoke and something else. but even so, steve reaches for the keys and turns, waiting for the hum of the engine kicking in. for a moment, a very brief moment, he's back in hawkins in someone's RV, watching eddie hotwire their escape plan out. shadow materializes behind him, content with what he has apparently decided to do. he takes a breath, and then rolls the window down, leaning out to find geralt. ]
[ The magic Nero imbued into his belongings remains: Shadow, the tobacco, the smoke, the sputtering engine. The moment Steve touches it, it will live on through him. That's how this place works, and though he imagines the vehicle, the panther, they'll take on what Steve gives them—it feels like that's how it should be. Not entirely Nero, preserved untouched, but granted new life.
Already, he can see it in the way Steve slides behind the wheel. Nero never drove; the spectre of a woman he called Nico did, and Nero sat in the passenger seat with his invisible escort seemingly unwilling to let him take over. Even when they raced down the nonexistent road of the Horizon, Nero wasn't driving.
Now, the steering wheel relinquishes itself to Steve.
He'd brought Steve here in hopes it would help. It appears to, but more than that, Geralt realizes it is helping him, too. Letting him move on a little easier. Often, his brothers left behind memories and nothing more. A medallion, if they were lucky enough to find it. It's good to know that for once, there's more to hold onto.
He opens the door on the other side. Not two summers ago, he'd have not a clue what to do with a machine like this. These days, it's nearly as familiar as his horse, and he climbs inside with the same ease as he might a carriage.
Then he nods—encouragement for Steve to go ahead. ]
[ there's a low-grade sense of adrenaline pumping through him as geralt walks around to get in on the other side. Steve's been to Nero's horizon before, seen the van before, but he's never actually been inside. most of their time together had been in solvunn, in the actual mud and dirt of the land. horizon visits they kept for their contacts not in solvunn, for meetings they'd take separately.
now, Steve sits behind the wheel and it feels... right? god, it's awful in a lot of ways. his gut clenches aggressively, tightly, and Steve thinks he might be sick - all from the way the steering wheel feels warm. the seat well-worn, settled. like it was waiting for him. like he was supposed to be here, all along.
Steve won't cry, but when geralt settles into the seat next to him, he also can't look at him. instead, Steve reaches for the stick, puts the van in drive, and with a thick swallow and a tight jaw. the moment his foot presses down on the gas, music starts playing - entirely unprompted, unasked. loud, aggressive, and vaguely reminiscent of the stuff Eddie likes to play, but...
[Maybe sometime after his talk with Eddie, and likely still finding his footing with everything that's happened mentally, Henry sends Steve a mental message.
A very simple one, to boot.
(Surely this is the man you wanted to hear from, right.)
But Henry is not one to wait around for things to happen to him; he's the active one, not the reactive one.]
[ it's definitely after Steve's talk with Eddie, though how much that helps or hurts matters is difficult to tell. he is definitely not the person Steve wants to hear from, just as Steve's answer probably isn't the one Henry wants to hear.
he just feels...tired. wrung out and a shell of the person he tries to be. he doesn't know what he's supposed to do here, or how he's supposed to act, or if he shouldn't have already done something about the whole ordeal.
Henry Creel has been living with them for over a year. Henry Creel has been a friend of theirs for over a year. Henry Creel is here, messaging him right now, asking where they stand and Steve doesn't know if he's supposed to be the bigger person (like Eddie) or if he should be angry (how he feels) or if he should already be acting, if he shouldn't be the one knocking down Henry's door and taking him down.
the uncertainty feels like it's tearing him from the inside out. it makes him feel like he's been doing everything wrong. and maybe he has.
for now - he doesn't know what he's supposed to say, so he goes with the easiest answer: ]
[He expects anger; perhaps it's unsurprising that he receives it.
(He gnashes down disappointment. There is one thing that's defined Henry Creel ever since he was young, something which still applies to this day: that lingering desire for connection, his metaphorical tendrils always extending and seeing what others have to offer. Knowing what he drags back will always be lacking, but there is a fragment hope that still lingers in him, the one that he cannot quash, the youngest part of him that just won't die.
The notion of friendship with Steve has all been but rejected. Shattered to pieces thanks to a glimpse into the far-flung future, and maybe it was inevitable. Maybe it's just easier this way, to be met with anger and denouncement. Can he blame him? He'd probably feel exactly the same way. That's just how it is now -- what was slowly built in the last couple of years is simply severed.)
It still takes longer than necessary for him to reply.]
[ it should be unsurprising, it should be expected, but what Steve finds clenched tightly in his chest isn't as simple as he makes it out to be. because yes, he is angry. angrier now that he knows that Eddie isn't. angrier even still because of how hurt he feels about it all. the guilt, the confusion, the feeling somewhere under it all that he'd been betrayed.
he and Henry were friends, weren't they? their connection from Hawkins, from a world where things were at least somewhat similar, being pulled and taken to somewhere wholly new. they'd survived the pit together, they'd survived solvunn and all its wacky weird god shit together, they'd been through this, together, and-
god, Steve hates it. hates that he's angry and he is angry at Henry but also he knows that his anger isn't only Henry. it isn't all Henry. Eddie had explained it pretty well - this back to the future shit, this timeline issue - and Steve feels bad because this would be easier if he wasn't friends.
but also, Steve's lost friends before. lost good friends. these emotions, this anger, is in a lot of ways too too familiar, and maybe that's what he's the most upset with above all. he'd known Tommy his whole life, still felt the loss of that connection like the loss of a limb, but they're different people now.
( except that a voice in the back of Steve's head keeps asking him - is Henry all that different from before? did a look into the future to a fact that hasn't happened yet really change either of them? at all? ) ]
I dunno, henry kinda seems that way unless you got any other crazy insane secret you wanna share just air out all your dirty laundry
Jesus Christ I trusted you, you know I really did fuck I'm so stupid
( sometime after her conversation with eddie, clarisse doesn't so much reach out as barrel into steve's head like a colchis bull in a proverbial china shop. no hey, been a while, huh or funny speaking to you for the first time or really any acknowledgement of how weird this actually is, because the fact that they even know each other at all is built entirely on a very vivid, god-level-bullshit dream. but she's willing to put that all aside because, honestly, she doesn't have many friends that aren't also part of her extended family — and even less she'd be willing to admit are her friends — so part of her wants to cling to this one thing that had actually been hers (for once, not just some friend of percy's she happened to tolerate; clarisse put effort into her friendship with steve, in her own way), even if it wasn't technically real. why should they have to start over? she'd probably just fuck it up without 800 years to get it right. she might be fucking it up right now, but it's easier to put something back together than try to build it from nothing. )
[ honestly, steve probably should be weirded out by this. should find it weird that he really hasn't actually interacted with clarisse outside of what they all now know are fake memories and fake lives that the singularity fake implanted (???) into their brains. he should probably feel some wariness in the fact she's reaching out, because they don't actually know each other, not really, not in any real way.
but also out of nowhere he sees text that he recognizes, in a tone that feels so familiar it reminds him of a kick to the stomach, or a bunch to the jaw, more than anything else. she barrels into his mind and god, it hurts, it derails anything else he might have been focused on, but it's also something he knows and something he hadn't realized he'd been missing and now-
now what? shouldn't this be weird? shouldn't this be awkward? clarisse messages him and steve feels a little like he's finally found footing in a series of days that he's been lost. she might not know him, but if steve is being honest, she knows the only version of himself he wants to be. so. ]
uh hi also i have no idea what youre talking about
( they've never actually met, and yet steve has seen clarisse at her worst (worse than her worst, really, cruel in ways she never thought she was capable of), which should probably make her feel some type of way — but this isn't about her right now, so she's more than happy to bury that particular brand of shame in a ditch somewhere no one will ever find it. at least until she's more equipped to talk about it, which will absolutely not happen until she's had a real conversation with percy and annabeth. and even then, putting fake-godland back into context of her actual life with actual gods will almost certainly make things worse. perspective is one hell of a bitch. so, you know, calling steve out on his shit is a whole lot easier at the moment. )
What the hell is going on with you and your boyfriend
( deliberately not you and eddie. she's not sugarcoating it, because she never has. )
[ but maybe that's why he's still here, too. because he has seen her at her not-real worst, watched the sheer ruthlessness and violence and cruelty that she could be capable of. and still he was there, still he knows what is real. or, rather, thinks he does. it's difficult, the hypocrisy in knowing that what happened to you didn't actually happen but still being comfortable in what you saw of others.
steve knows what it means to have been something you didn't want to be. he knows shame, knows guilt. there's a part of him that likes to think he's on the other side of it all, but it has a tendency to sneak up on him, to find him late at night or in the middle of conversations. a broken camera, a painted sign. it feels a little ridiculous to try and compare any of his past experiences to the level of which they all reached in that make-believe future, but.
he gets it. and it's why he doesn't bring it up. won't, probably ever, unless clarisse does first.
no- it's easier to just... it's easier to be. it's easier to get this message and not question why it feels so normal to clap back. to rolls his eyes. to know exactly what she's talking about and yet still not give her an easy time of it because that- that is not something he's really prepared to talk about. ]
( she never expected this to be a walk in the park, for steve to just spill his guts because clarisse poked him once, so she's not surprised when he just denies it. because technically, sure, he doesn't have one. but they both know this isn't about the technicality of it all. and he knows this is tame for her, all things considered. she hasn't even brought the knife out yet. )
Don't give me that shit, Harrington You know exactly who I'm talking about
[ no, it was never going to be easy. and this also won't be easy. for one, because this is hardly as much as clarisse can give when it comes to trying to get information, and he takes the chance he can get to push back. for two, well. he also doesn't even know what to say about it, either. he knows she's talking about eddie, he knows that she's trying to either...what? make fun of them? make fun of him? his only understanding of how this friendship with clarisse works is the distant (false?) feeling that this is normal for them, this exchange is normal for them, but that doesn't mean he knows what to do with it. ]
yeah, well la rue the answer is still nothing cause I don't have one and never did, technically so there's nothing to spill
( she would love to make fun of them, if they would actually admit there's anything to make fun of. but no, they're both being like this, which makes her want to strangle both of them more than anything. )
Spare me the technicality bullshit
( because that is just an easy excuse to be a pussy in her opinion. )
There's a whole lot to spill about why y'all are being weird as fuck and not acknowledging it We're acting like everything is normal So, what, just because I didn't suck your face we get to be cool? But suddenly the who-gives-a-shit-if-it-wasn't-real once-great love of your life is giving me mopey doe-eyes about how this isn't a thing? Don't be an asshole, Steve, that's my job
[ if there was any part of Steve that hadn't been sure he knew how to do this - how to have friends, how to have friends as close as Charisse, how to have a friendship like the one he has with clarisse - it's gone in this instant. because he hasn't even gotten a response from her, hasn't gotten anything back, and still he can feel himself think oh thank god she's not in solvunn, or I'd be dead. there's a kind of confirmation there, that brings along with it relief and familiarity and.
well. Steve's stubborn and sometimes annoying side. mostly annoying. pretty often annoying. ]
we're not being weird as fuck we're trying to go back to NORMAL a lot of shit happened during that weird crater nap thing or didn't happen or whatever but that doesn't mean it changes shit here or has to change shit Eddie's pretty much my best friend I freaking live with the dude and just cause apparently our immortal god versions decided to date or whatever doesn't mean anything for us NON god versions
and WE'RE cool because well
[ shit shit shit he wasn't prepared for this side of things. for him to have to give voice or words to why he's so willing (and secretly kind of desperate) to still be cool with clarisse. to still be friends with clarisse. to still- ]
UGH man I don't know! I want to still be cool with you but if you woke up and decided 'hey actually that Harrington guy is kind of a huge asshole' then that would be cool too or not cool but you know what I mean
and he's NOT the love of my life!!! Jesus CHRIST clarisse none of it was real!!!! none actually no it doesn't matter
also, side note, being an asshole isn't a one person job I can also be one like all the time probably like now
but dude I don't know I just he's been kinda very Not Talking About Any Of It since it hasn't come up at all
wait
what do you mean he was giving you mopey doe eyes?
( definitely annoying. she would be shaking him if she were there right now. among other slightly more violent things, which would most likely just devolve into roughhousing and steve in a headlock. it's probably better she's not anywhere in his vicinity for this. )
"""NonE oF iT wAs rEaL""" Yeah, keep fucking telling yourself that, I hope it makes you feel better about being a goddamn coward You wanna tell me how I have new fucking scars if none of that shit actually happened?
( she really wishes she could send photo through this stupid brain network, because she does not want to touch the horizon right now. but if she has to, she will mentally drag steve's ass to her domain and show him there. for now, she's just going to yell about it very loudly in her head. )
Nanaue fucking BIT ME and you and I both know that's fucking impossible unless some of that god shit was real Maybe it's just the Singularity playing a big fucking joke on me, but I've been around enough dreams-that-aren't-dreams to know that it's not as simple as real-or-not-real We didn't just take a nap, Steve, something or someone royally fucked with our heads So if you want to selectively ignore all the shit that makes you uncomfortable, fine I'm just telling you it didn't come from nowhere
There's this thing called the Mist back home that can make you see things that aren't really true or convince you something happened when it didn't And believe me, this doesn't feel like that This feels like, I don't know, like we were supposed to "live" through all of it Like some fucking Christmas Carol shit or whatever Like someone poked around in our brains and made us see the best or the worst of ourselves I don't fucking know Maybe that's not the real future, unless you want to believe in Fate and all that shit which I'm pretty sure has nothing to do with it But can you actually say where you ended up and who you ended up with doesn't make sense? Put all of the god shit aside He's your best friend, you live with him, but what, neither one of you is man enough to poach the elephant in the room?
I mean I just saw him in Nocwich, looking unbelievably pathetic Practically moaning about how y'all aren't a thing Pretty sure he was trying to tell me something with the dopey love song he was playing
( which is, maybe, not exactly the truth. don't @ her. she didn't come here to fight fair. )
Maybe you should go talk to him instead of being an asshole Or at least tell me why you can't talk to him if you'd rather continue being an asshole You owe me that much if you still want to be cool
[ more often than not, Steve’s experience with roughhousing has ended him in a headlock. he’s not a huge fan of wrestling, never got as into it as tommy and the other guys did. but that’s also besides the point. ]
dude what is your DEAL about this? why do you care so much???
[ though, of course, clarisse brings up that and Steve is suddenly a lot more interested in anything but the current topic of conversation. ]
wait wait wait hold up you have scars? why didn’t you tell me? you’ve got shark bite scars???
and yeah, okay, fine something fucked with our heads it was probably the singularity- it likes doing that at least this time it wasn’t fucked up nightmares and hallucinations about weird shit some of the shit that happened was kind of awesome- good awesome. great, even. but do you really think you’re gonna stick around here for 800 years? or hell- LIVE for 800 more years? HERE? become GODS? like- I know that’s not as weird for you with your dad and all that but jesus, I don’t know
and maybe we haven’t talked about it because we’ve been dealing with everything else there’s no elephant, everything’s chill except for you, apparently. you’re the only one super invested in all this and I still don’t really get why
also, you’e full of shit he hates playing love songs
but god okay other than the fact that the last two Talks we had I royally fucked up I just- man, I don’t know I don’t want him to feel like he owes me anything in like- not being together or also just, not anything else and it’s not like I’ve ever actually liked a dude before I don’t even KNOW about him I just know that this is kinda it for him and he should get to be with whoever he wants not just some guy he knows from home
Because I have scars everywhere, dipshit, it's not a big deal
( the other one maybe is. but she's not talking about that one right now. she is not letting him get sidetracked by this. )
You're missing the point, anyway It's not about the scar, it's about where it came from
I'm not even saying any of it is going to happen! Fucking hell, I don't want to be stuck here forever, either But this is what we like to call A Sign One you should probably pay fucking attention to
( she doesn't even bother responding to he hates playing love songs because that in itself feels like a gotcha, even if he doesn't realize it. )
Gods, do you even fucking hear yourself right now, Steve Have you considered that he might want to be with some guy from home And not just because you're from home, but, I don't know Because you're you?
Also, liking a dude is exactly the same as liking a girl, dumbass The only difference is you both have dicks So it's a 2-for-1, who gives a shit
Listen, I get it, shit's fucked up, boo-fucking-hoo But I've been here before, okay? You wanna know what my fucking deal is?
( and it's only because she's so frustrated that she's even admitting this. maybe he will get it through his thick skull if she gives him a little context. maybe already having a breakdown with achilles about it was a good thing, or she probably wouldn't have even considered bringing it up. it's still hard to talk about, but with all the shit she's giving him for seemingly no reason, he deserves to understand why. and for once she's immensely glad the network can't transmit actual thoughts, or he'd be getting some truly horrific imagery with this. )
I was in love with my best friend and I never told her I thought, we're both dating people, we're in the middle of a war, we're both girls, my dad would hate me, blah blah blah Everything became an excuse not to say anything Because I was terrified I would ruin our friendship and everything else And then she died in a battle I could have prevented She begged me to go with her and I didn't listen And even as she lay dying in my arms, I couldn't tell her, because I was a coward So don't start with these bullshit excuses Be a man and do something about it before you regret it for the rest of your life
( congrats, steve. she's never explicitly told anyone this. her family knows what happened, but she's not sure they actually ... know. then again, how could they not. she literally became achilles. that's pretty much the gayest parallel there is. )
and just cause you're used to pain doesn't make it okay, either dipshit
[ the words are thought out, or whatever this is, before steve really notices how out of place they might be. except he and Clarisse are okay, aren't they? because that feels a little too close, a little too like they were in those not-memories, a little too...
ah, it is what it is. it's out there, and Clarisse is still yelling at him, and. yeah. okay. maybe he needs to stop overthinking this whole thing. Clarisse lays into him and it's not uncomfortable, it's not wild, but something about the conversation itself still doesn't compute for him. ]
you wanna call what happened in that dream a Sign? you're starting to sound like some preacher on tv my mom used to listen to
and no! i haven't considered it! because he's never done a fucking thing about it either he's been weird since we came back, okay?? it's been WEIRD so i don't know what you expect me to do about that, either
[ but then he sees Clarisse say you wanna know what my fucking deal is? and steve very suddenly, very immediately, know it's not a time to keep arguing. the words keep showing up as Clarisse gets into it, as she talks, and steve can't remember if this is new information or remembered, if this is something he's heard before of it is something about Clarisse that just doesn't... surprise him.
and yet...does.
it's another moment where steve feels the weird, off-putting separation between their lives, and yet a bit like there isn't any separation at all. steve feels like he knows what it means, to be in the midst of warzones (no matter how imagined they may be), what it means to lose a friend in your arms. losing someone like that changes you, but bringing in the concept of who it could be, who it could be... ]
Sorry I forgot you don't regularly have gods invading your dreams to tell you vague and dubiously helpful bullshit Are you seriously trying to call me a televangelist That's low, Steve
Zeus Almighty Do I need to stage a fucking Horizon intervention for you two Seriously
( do not put it past her. she will get over her own reservations about the horizon if it means getting them to talk to each other.
but despite laying it all out for him, now that it's out there, she really doesn't want to keep talking about silena. it still feels too raw, but she has considerably lost steam in the wake of an admission like that. in a way, it feels good to have finally said it to someone, even if she hasn't said it out loud, technically. but at the same time, all she really wants to do is retreat from it. if the hard part is supposed to be admitting it, why doesn't it feel any easier? maybe some invisible weight has been lifted, but she's still trudging waist-deep through the mud. what does she even say now? )
Yeah, well, it helps when you know what the afterlife looks like, I guess
( it doesn't, really, because she still has to live her life without silena, still has to live with the guilt and the grief of it all. but it's a nice lie she can tell herself every now and then. )
yeah sorry you gotta remember my life was the boring normal up until I got farm-baptized in the pond out back I guess besides the monsters and the government and shit back in Indiana but whatever all I'm saying is that gods talking to you in dreams is still weird and I'm not as ready to just accept 'signs' outta nowhere
[ listen.....percy and steve have a lot more in common than they don't, alright? there's a reason he and clarisse can get along as well as they do so quickly.
the concept of a horizon intervention is... actually, kind of terrifying. if no other part of this conversation had convinced Steve to talk to Eddie, the idea that clarisse could still find a way to force it to happen even halfway across the country/continent/thing is enough.
he also notices the way she absolutely does not want to keep on about the conversation. he doesn't really know what to do about it, because on one hand he feels like he should try and get her to keep opening up, but on the other... that would be a little hypocritical of him, wouldn't it? so Steve tries to take a kind of middle road - latching onto the whole afterlife convo and letting that take the wheel. ]
wait what? why do you know what the afterlife looks like?
( that's ... that's the nativity, clarisse. but whatever. you can't expect her to know the difference between these things. baptisms and christmas aren't totally on her radar. she knows of them, and some of the year-rounders do little gift exchanges during the holidays, but for the most part they don't really celebrate mortal holidays at camp (she vaguely remembers christmas celebrations from when she was a kid, but it's not something that's ever been, you know, part of her identity or anything). there's the winter solstice every year, of course, but even then it's never really been a big deal like it used to be in ancient times (aside from the council of the gods that demigods are so rarely invited to attend). chiron tried to convince percy that camp should hold a traditional winter solstice feast in poseidon's honor one year and clarisse is pretty sure she's never seen percy run faster for half-blood hill. )
You know, if you can accept weird demons from an alternate dimension you really shouldn't be having such a hard time with this
( but maybe her life by comparison is exponentially weirder than one demon dimension, considering — )
What do you mean why My dad's dad's brother is the king of the Underworld, dumbo Nico pretty much lived there until recently, he's seen the whole place And Percy and Annabeth have been there, too (no they weren't dead) I mean, it's just never been a secret where we're going when we die, just a matter of when
[ Steve was really trying to be funny and witty and it really did not at all land. that, or he's fully missing whatever sarcasm that clarisse is trying to send through these messages. he does know she is talking about Christmas, though, and part of him assumes she's trying to make some kind of joke out of it, but he uh. definitely misses that ]
it wasn't like that was easy to accept those either I mean at a point I didn't have a choice but give me a break here
[ the fight feels like it's over. he's not exactly sure where they landed or what's going to end up happening, if clarisse is going to take the kind of easing out of the conversation as a win? is Steve agreeing to something he doesn't really mean to? he doesn't know if it's worth worrying about.
especially because... yeah. ]
yeah but have YOU been there? like to your actual afterlife place? shit that's
[ but then Steve takes a moment to think about it, and he's struck by a sudden realization that maybe that isn't... a bad thing. ]
what's it like for you guys? your afterlife
[ totally not a pointed reason for him asking about afterlives. definitely normal for him to do. ]
( she has no idea what that means. the only councils she knows of are the council of cloven elders and the council of the gods. demigod brain does not compute mortal concepts of government. or organized religion? whatever. )
I'll give you a break when you stop being an idiot
( but, yeah, for the most part, the argument is over. there's only so many times clarisse can scream the equivalent of you're being a fuckhead, steve before she starts repeating herself, and now doesn't really feel like the time to start beating the dead horse. that, and it's a lot harder to say what she really means (i just want you to be happy, stupid) so she just. doesn't. )
No I haven't been there because I miss all the fun stuff
( and by "fun stuff" she means life-threatening quests and bonus trips to tartarus. not that she'd ever actually want to end up in tartarus. but still. it's always stay at camp, clarisse, protect the camp, clarisse. boring. )
It really depends on who you were in life Your soul is judged when it enters the Underworld and you can end up in one of a few places Heroes like us usually end up in Elysium, which is like our equivalent of Heaven, but really anyone who lived a good life can be sent there It's the paradise of the Underworld The Isles of the Blest are at the center of Elysium, but only those who have been reborn three times and achieved Elysium every time can get there, so most people don't try I don't know how you out-paradise paradise, but I guess getting to live forever on a private island helps The Fields of Asphodel is where most people wind up, and, yeah, it's about as boring as it sounds Literally it's a giant field where souls just wander around aimlessly for all eternity But people who were especially bad end up in the Fields of Punishment where, you know, they're punished for all eternity And then there's Tartarus, but that's mostly reserved for monsters and primordial beings who should never see the light of day again Think of it like the supermax of the Underworld
( she can sort of see where this is going, but — )
I know Silena made it to Elysium, but it's still Hard, without her
( and then, just for a little levity: )
If you want to convert, it's not too late, Steve Just one offering to the gods at every meal for the rest of your life
the solvunn council its the government people here in solvunn when they summoned us we came through a pond thing and they were just standing there isn't that how you got summoned?
[ he's not even going to acknowledge that last bit. he's kind of always being an idiot, anyway, so it's not really something he can address or change.
clarisse says 'fun stuff' and Steve knows enough about clarisse to know what she's getting at. still, he can't quite wrap his head around wanting to go to some kind of afterlife, no matter whatever version or image or place it might be. but even so, Steve can't help but be curious. can't help but lean towards the possibility of knowing what that might look like.
he doesn't necessarily know what he imagined, but a field? punishment? he frowns, but it's not like clarisse can see that. Steve hates this - his first thought, his own real thought, if Eddie would make it to Elysium. if he would-
no. that's not helping anyone. ]
can you go and see her in elysium?
[ even as he asks the question, he knows it's not that simple. knows it couldn't be that simple. but if it's possible, if there is a chance he has to know. ]
( the dawning realization that steve was not talking about indiana when he said farm-baptized... she just assumed they did weird shit in the midwest, okay. )
You meant here It wasn't a pond, it was a pool or something in a cave under one of the military outposts The Prime Minister or someone was there
( anyway, now that that's cleared up... )
I mean, Hades isn't a huge fan of demigods or anyone else taking field trips to the Underworld, so it's not like I can just pop in for a visit whenever I want Haven't you heard of Orpheus? Getting to the Underworld is pretty easy, but getting back out... Usually requires a favor from a god
That's it for you, yeah You're not a demigod, so you're off the hook for quests and shit The rest of it is just ... belief or whatever, I guess Making offerings, praying to your patron god Apollo's here if you want to give it a shot
( ha. a shot. see what she did there. )
I'm kidding btw, Apollo is insufferable And I'm allowed to say that because I'm related to him You strike me as more of a Heracles kind of guy, anyway God of strength and bravery, divine protector of mankind
something's happening over here too hard to tell what but the plants are all screaming the locals are saying its an omen but its hard to tell if its here or somewhere else they're bringing us all underground
[ not that steve can do much from here but… he could see if wanda could? ]
i mean the plants are screaming on a scale of creepy shit that happens in solvunn it’s not all that bad but not great also there were people talking about the lake turning red but the primary settlement’s kinda far so i didn’t get a good look
screwed how wait you're SURE you're okay? i don't know much about the cities but governments like that tend to really fuck people over
well. yeah I feel like living out here is being caught in some weird b horror movie but you get used to it after a while or like- as used to it as anyone can be
I will I don't know how long many of us are gonna be able to take this or for how long
yeah I heard something wild was happening there which is normal, I guess any time shit like this goes down it's usually all three places at once, isn't it?
[ he knows dean doesn't mean but, but steve reads the comment and stops. because...well. when was the last thing he learned from geralt? he remembers sessions during their 800 year crater nap, remembers training and learning and monster hunting. but when was the last time out? ]
uh it's been a little bit nero did most of my training in person, so
Yeah, okay, we're gonna start workin on that. Come find me when all of this is over. We can start in the Horizon, and maybe graduate to Nocwich later after I can see where you're at.
( Too many monster attacks happen on this whole ass planet for him to be comfortable not knowing where Steve's baseline is, or with that baseline not being foundationally solid. Sorry, kid. This is happening. )
[ there's no need to say sorry. the words come through and Steve blinks, sits up, and feels... better? good? it feels like he's being given something to do, a direction to take. ]
okay tell me when I mean- I can still get into the horizon here too so whenever you're not busy
[continuing from the old thread bc I got booted oops]
[The weight falling on him is crushing. It makes his arm shake, trying to hold himself up… trying to hold his organs in. All he tastes is blood, and when Nero blinks, he’s sure he’s not seeing as much as he should be. It’s all in red.
He shakes his head. Maybe he’s been waiting for this, huh? Ever since fucking Urizen. Since Vergil. He didn’t have Kyrie telling him be safe, just Wanda’s, don’t get yourself killed.
That’s — shit. Sorry, Wanda.
He can’t keep himself up. He falls back down, head hitting grass, brain feeling like it’s been shaken in a glass full of glitter. His vision sparks, and eventually he just closes his eyes. Still breathing, holding his cuts, but he can feel it. His body isn’t healing. And the demonic energy that flows through his body like a second heartbeat — he can’t feel it.
Nero gives up on holding his body together, instead grabbing Steve’s arm. Scaled, like his. His arm, on Steve’s body. The Devil Bringer. Is he gonna keep it? Kinda hope so. Keep the kid alive.]
No, you don’t. You’re not getting me anywhere. It’s — [He coughs, choking on the blood until he leans up enough to spit it out. It dribbles from his lips, thick, making his voice wet.] Not the first time. If I can’t heal myself, it’s not healing at all.
[Maybe her god-magic interfering with his blood. Same way the Pit fucked with him.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He doesn’t — he can’t. Can’t have his last fucking memories be of the pit. He thinks of what he had, what he might lose: Wanda, Himeka, fucking Rocket pretending he’s gonna take a shit in his bed.
His hands grip Steve, tight. The slip on the blood covering them, cutting on the demon’s scales.] Tell them I’m sorry. All right? Tell them about that bitch. In case she comes back.
[She promised to.]
You gotta do this for me. Wanda — she can keep you safe.
[ nero is blinking, and steve can’t tell if his eyes are in focus or not. It feels like he’s blinking a lot, like more than he should, or is that just steve, unable to keep a hold on time himself? nero tries to sit up and steve tries to help him, but that doesn’t work because nero’s hurt (you should have known that, steve) and so steve tries to help him lay back down again. nero thumps against the glass and steve winces, his eyes going from nero’s face and expression down to his torso, to the blood, the black.
He doesn’t even notice the fact he still has nero’s arm, and that nero doesn’t have any of it - not his wings, not his scales, nothing. steve doesn’t notice because nero’s grabbing onto him, and steve’s attention is forced back to now. Not the hole in nero’s gut, not the thick, suffocating smell of blood and rot, not the panic that threatens to bubble up out of the depths of steve’s gut. ]
What? What d’you mean not the first time? [ and then, without meaning to, steve’s eyes widen. Because hey- hey- that’s something, nero’s survived this before. nero can survive it again. ] What happened last time? What do I need to do? [ the words come out in a rush, on a single breath, like steve is worried that if he speaks too slowly there won’t be enough time.
nero’s grips him, and his grip is tight, almost tight enough to hurt, if steve wasn’t so high on adrenaline and panic and whatever else has a tendency to keep him moving in times like this. God damn he wished he had some kind of magic, some kind of ability, something that would actually- he doesn’t know. Help? Heal? Would it even work if nero’s healing isn’t working?
He’s looking around, like there might be something he can use from the woods. ]
Hey- [ his attention snaps back to nero, to his words, so quickly it almost hurts. ] No- no, nero, we’re going to figure this out. You tell them yourself. I mean- I’ll be there, I can add to whatever weird story you’re gonna spin about this, and. Yeah. No. No, we’re fine, you’re fine, this is going to-
[ steve almost hears Robin, somewhere, in the back of his head - fueling the words that spill from him. There’s no reason for him to be talking this much, he should be thinking about how he’s supposed to get nero somewhere that he can heal and-
Wait. Wanda. Wanda. Wanda can fix this.
steve thinks I need to message her at the same time he recognizes that nero had safe and steve’s frown is confused, a thought or two behind. ] What? No, c’mon man, you’re- you’re freaking me out. [ he forces a laugh, or tries to, to no real success. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
If the wearer is incapacitated, a spell woven into the threads by Haelva will activate, allowing the user to send an emergency message to another member of the group—use it wisely.]
post-nero kicking it, but before the network post.
He does not want to pause and grieve. The thought of it churns his stomach. He swallows the bitterness that threatens to rise and turns his focus towards another instead. Somebody who needs him. Who he knows will feel the loss as deeply as he has.
And who he needs to see with his own eyes is in one piece. But he knows, too, Steve may need...time. He can't tell if the boy has made it someplace safe or if he may still be with Nero. (The body.) So he keeps his message brief. ]
Where are you?
no subject
but steve doesn't know what happens in the between. doesn't know just how much time has passed or what he's done or even when he saw the message. was it a moment ago? was it hours? he's not covered in blood anymore, even if he can still smell it everywhere, can barely breathe because it's the only thing he can smell, his nostrils thick and coated and-
geralt. geralt messaged him. asked where he was. the physical answer is curled up in a corner of his and eddie's apartment, his face tucked into his knees and some kind of bag of spices tucked against his chest. eddie is...gone. elsewhere. either getting food that steve won't eat or telling the family whose farm they live on what happened or...who knows. but geralt asked and some weird, fragile part of steve doesn't want to answer because he doesn't want to say it but-
fuck. god. he doesn't want to talk to people. doesn't want to say it. but it's also geralt and maybe it's...hopeful, of him, but something tells him geralt already knows. ]
at my place
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But as with most, Geralt doesn't pry. Steve is more than old enough to look after himself. Has been through his share of shit. And here and now, he's cautious of digging into a wound as fresh as it is.
It doesn't help he isn't physically there. He can't walk by and simply look in on Steve.
Eventually, he settles on a bare offer: ]
If you'd like you see me,
I'll come.
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that realization in the moment, though, makes steve feel that much smaller. that much worse. and it's not that it's geralt's fault in all this; it's just another reminder of how much steve can't figure out. how even in some weird, other world planet country thing, he's still managing to mess up his entire life.
or- rather. everyone else's lives. nero's life.
fuck. steve doesn't remember if he's ever felt this kind of hole in his chest. this kind of weight. there's a version he felt with Eddie, when he pulled dustin through the gate to the other side, but that had been different. almost in opposite. and steve hadn't been there for that. hadn't sat there, blood on his hands, as nero-
geralt's writing cuts into steve's thoughts, reminding him to breathe. to settle. if you'd like to see me he says, and steve... doesn't know what he wants. doesn't know if he's being childish, if he should just buck it up and get over it. he knows he's freaking people out, knows that it isn't helping anyone, how paralyzed he's acting right now, but nero- ]
i
[ he doesn't mean to respond, and the moment he knows he has fills him with a kind of panic. does he want to see geralt? does he want to see anyone?
the thought then follows that maybe, somehow, by going to the horizon this will feel easier. that maybe the pressure on his chest will lessen, he'll feel less stuck. anything can be anything there, right? so maybe that can be an escape. ]
yeah
horizon?
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But a no is not what comes. ]
I'll be there.
[ Geralt arrives on foot, strolling down the winding road towards the ice cream shop—the simplest place to start. Thick trees line the street, and a light fog covers the area in a haze. Halfway up, he finds Steve, sat to the side between nothing in particular.
He stops. After a second, he sits down beside Steve. Grief is a palpable weight. It blankets the air, suffocating. In truth, he doesn't know what to say. The wound is raw for him, too. More so because he wasn't there. It feels as though he should have been.
He might've stopped it. ]
I spoke to him. At the end. [ In case there was any doubt about what he knows. He flexes his fingers and thinks about driving his sword through his brother. People like them—they were always meant to die bloody. But it makes it no easier to bear. ]
Are you staying with someone?
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something in the back of steve's mind tells him to run. to not show up. to stay in whatever limbo place he's in right now in the corner of his apartment because the idea of moving, even into some kind of hallucination space, feels too heavy a weight.
but he also doesn't geralt to show up and steve isn't there. the idea of getting a message asking where he is-
he blinks, and he's standing on the side of the highway - the same winding road that he grew up on, learned to drive on, that takes him through the forests right outside of town and if he followed it further along, scoops ahoy should be...
steve sits, right there on the side of the road. it's weird, how he just doesn't have the energy, how the thought of just standing there feels too much. he'd wanted the horizon to make this easier, to feel lighter than this, but instead it feels a bit more in the opposite.
he hears geralt's footsteps, feels him come to a stop and pause before joining him on the side of the road. the grass is damp, thick with dew from the fog, and steve feels it start to seep through his jeans. his sweatshirt. it clings to him and presses.
geralt's voice is what pulls him out of it, finally turning to look at the other man. he's not crying anymore, doesn't know if he has it in him to try, but something in his eyes is...not knowing, exactly, but not surprised. I spoke to him he says, and steve's chest clenches. ]
What'd he say?
[ that voice from earlier offers answers before geralt does, mocking and sharp and painful. steve fucked up or he let me die or this never should have happened, I shouldn't have brought him. there's a part of steve that knows none of it is true, and even if nero's words had leaned in that direction, he doubts geralt would tell him.
after another second, steve's eyes go down to his hands. ]
Yeah. Eddie's- [ steve's throat feels suddenly tight, flashes of his fight with Eddie before this all happened popping up and then fading. how eddie had been there, when he'd stumbled back home, covered in nero's blood. he takes a breath, and feels it shake as it leaves him. ] Yeah.
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It isn't Steve's fault. ]
He said you did good. [ Whether Steve will believe it is another matter. He thinks it's important to hear regardless. ] And not to blame yourself.
[ For a long moment, he says nothing else. A silent mist curls from behind the thicket of trees. The Horizon is often quiet. It's why he comes here to escape the bustling crowd of Cadens. The solitude is usually a comfort. For the first time, the isolated landscape is almost lonely. He misses him. He carries a number of tokens from Nero, and he has not looked at any of them since he received Nero's last words.
He glances over. ] I won't tell you not to hold yourself responsible. Each time, you ask if you could've done more. [ Moved faster, made a different choice, said something else. It's what it is. The questions never stop. ] But you should try to forgive yourself.
[ It's as Nero said. The guilt will consume you to your core, and leave nothing behind. And what would that accomplish, in the end? ]
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but also, he knows. he knows how wrong he is. does he want to know nero's last words to geralt? because he'd gotten some of them himself, nero's last speech, his last words, his-
fuck. fuck. steve starts trembling slightly, unable to stop it, unable to keep his cool. geralt speaks after a moment, and steve doesn't know if there had been a pause or if the answer had come immediately after the question or-
he said you did good. and not to blame yourself.
the snort that rips free of steve is harsh, angry, short but definitive. it also brings out a burning behind steve's eyes, one that has him shutting them, holding them shut in an attempt not to embarrass himself further. he shouldn't have asked, really, because he knows it's not true. whatever nero wants to say, wanted to say, it's- it's not true.
if steve had done good, none of this would be happening, now, would it?
he clenches his hands into fists, holds himself so tight it hurts. then holds it for a second or two longer as he focuses on the silence in the air around him. if this were actually hawkins, a car would have driven by by now. someone probably would have stopped, seeing two people sitting in the grass beside the road, wondering if they're okay. but this isn't hawkins, there isn't anyone who is going to stop, and steve- steve hates it, in a way. misses home more than he has in over a year. misses it like a hole, driven solidly through his chest.
( but what does he have waiting for him there? )
there are a few seconds here where geralt doesn't say anything else, and where steve's entire focus is on keeping himself from crying. just- holding it back as much as he can. he breathes quickly at first, holding his eyes closed, refusing- refusing to be this pathetic. it takes a few more seconds before it evens back out, before he takes a breath and doesn't feel it rattle in his chest.
he doesn't see geralt look over to him, but he feels it, just as he feels the cool dampness of the grass under him.
you should try to forgive yourself.
steve is quiet for another moment, and then another more. when he finally relaxes, when he finally opens his eyes, they're red. his head hurts. he watches as his fists unclench, slowly. ] Sure. [ he shakes his head. ] Sorry, yeah. I'll. Try.
[ he won't - or at the very least, won't yet. but part of him thinks geralt knows that too. ]
Has- [ steve stops, swallows, then looks over to geralt through his hair. ] Has this happened before? One of us... summoned or whatever. [ steve doesn't really think much about the question before asking it, the words slipping out of him before he has time to think. ] Has anyone actually died?
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He pauses. It's a difficult question. When they escaped Thorne, they'd lost people along the way. Their return from the tunnels was the same. He doesn't know what the difference is: death in the caves, disappearances through the portals. But Nero—a visible, bloody death. He supposes that's not occurred before. Not...permanently. ]
It was Dean. [ His voice is quiet. ] When we returned from the mountains, they told me he was taken by a leviathan. Then weeks later—he came back wrong. I thought I'd have to put him down. I nearly did.
[ This is the first time he's spoken of it to anyone. Not every return is a blessing. He's glad Dean is all right, he does not regret that they saved him, but nor is he blind to how much happenstance saving him involved. The Mark. His blood. Ciri's blood. The fucking angel.
Steve's eyes are red-rimmed, and something catches inside Geralt's chest. He turns, not quite reaching for Steve but close enough side by side that their shoulders brush. There's more silence, more empty air, before he speaks again. ]
Would you like to see his domain? [ When Rinwell vanished, Geralt had retrieved one of her owls. It helped. Perhaps Steve will find a keepsake of his own, something to preserve in a place where all traces of him might otherwise vanish. Only a few hours have passed. It should still be standing. ]
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this... he doesn't know if it's better, or worse, that he was there. that he knows his part in it played a role. as much as he tries, he can't pull himself from the spiral - that he's glad he was there because then nero wasn't alone, that he hates himself for being there because anyone else might have actually saved him. might have done something that would have helped.
still - it doesn't change things, and perhaps with time steve will be able to think about it without feeling like his chest is collapsing in on itself. for now, he just tries to breathe, tries calm down. he asks geralt not because he thinks it'll change anything, necessarily, but instead to hopefully feel like he wasn't the first person to ruin someone else's life while here in abraxas.
but geralt's answer doesn't... help. not in the way steve was hoping. instead, it pulls his attention - from nero, from death - towards the larger man, brow furrowed in confusion. ] Dean? [ dean has been... well, he supposes he has geralt to thank for whatever it is dean has been. after the destruction of steve's basement, dean has turned into someone that steve has turned to, gone to, not unlike geralt himself but... different.
dean felt familiar, and while steve doesn't want to say normal, he also kind of does. but hearing that he's died, here, and that it's something steve hadn't even thought possible...
wrong. steve frowns. ] What do you mean wrong? What happened?
[ he knows that geralt doesn't have to tell him, knows that there's as much of a chance geralt won't that he will. but steve feels himself cling onto this piece of information, cling on to this potential story, a lot more than geralt probably intended. he won't give words to the thoughts, not yet, but if dean came back then-
no. no, he's focused on this right now. on a dean winchester who apparently died, who came back wrong, who geralt almost had to kill and. yeah. that.
geralt shifts, brushes their shoulders together, and something in steve's chest unfurls. there is a part of him that's terrified that in the relaxing, he'll just fall apart. that every wall he's been holding together with glue and prayers will just crumple, just like he feels like doing, and that will be that. but it doesn't- at least right now it doesn't.
steve turns to look at geralt when he speaks, at first confused, but then realization settling in moments after. oh- steve didn't even think about that. didn't realize that domains could linger. he thinks for a moment if it's something he can even handle before he nods. pushes to his feet. ]
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A dark force corrupted him. He carried a mark into Abraxas from his world. When he died, it both saved and consumed him. He hurt Ciri. [ A simplified version of the shit that transpired over those months. ] We burnt it out of him, but... [ He hesitates. ] For a time, I felt as though I'd allowed each of them to be in harm's way. That I should've done more.
[ He leaves the tale there, unsatisfying as it may be. Geralt rises to his feet with Steve. They walk. Nero's domain isn't far; as they draw near, he can see the looming spires of a foreboding tower and a starkly out of place vehicle parked beneath it. The red phone booth. Is that massive cat still there? Or has it been the first to vanish, unsustainable in the face of its creator's absence?
He stops at the entrance. It's quiet. No sounds of skittering claws or shrieking beasts.
Unlike how it'd been with Rinwell, Geralt is not compelled to take a memento. Nero gave him his brother's sword. That serves as memory enough. Perhaps Steve might find something he wants, though, inside that ridiculous van filled with junk and the stench of tobacco. ]
I used to send him monsters to fight. He liked the challenge. Said there wasn't much to kill in Solvunn.
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that I should have done more.
Steve understands the feeling. has been holding it close to his chest since Nero's death. it's an hold friend at this point, that guilt, that pressure. Steve is quiet for a few moments after, trying to find his way through the feeling, the weight.
they both stand and start walking, making their way to Nero's domain. Steve doesn't know it well, having spent most of his time with Nero in person, in solvunn or abraxas or whatever you wanted to call it all. but he has seen it at least once before, recognizes the spires and the rv, the phone booth. he wonders about shadow, too, but not for long - assuming she's gone just like Nero is.
everything is so quiet, so still. it feels wrong to be here without any noise, either music or sounds of monsters, of life. but instead there is nothing. Steve comes to a stop once they're there, probably a hundred paces or so from where the rv is still parked. there doesn't seem to be any reason for Steve to have stopped, other than it feels a bit like he needs to prepare himself for this.
it's ironic, really. geralt saying things like Nero claiming there wasn't much to kill in solvunn, knowing that Nero had been killed by those same things. a thing. some kind of god. Steve looks around the domain like there might be another clue hidden there, maybe Nero himself, preparing to jump out like it is all some kind of prank. but even as Steve thinks it, he can feel how hallow the thought, the wish, is.
it's exhausting, he's exhausted, but he can't stop now. ]
This is all gonna disappear, isn't it? Now that he's gone.
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But there are echoes here nonetheless. It hurts. It's an old pain, too. He is no longer capable of remembering what it was like the first time, when it was fresh and new and he didn't understand how sharp the ache could be or how long it would last. The way it would rear its head at the most unexpected of times, days or weeks later. Now it's simply...
What he knows.
Words help little, so he says nothing while Steve absorbs his surroundings, only inclines his head in confirmation. Yes. It will. Swallowed up by time like everything else. ]
He'd want you to have something.
[ Or all of it, perhaps. He can imagine Nero scoffing at the idea that any of his dilapidated shit was to be preserved, that the only thing of value he truly owned was his sword and his guns, but...deep down, Nero would appreciate it, too. That Steve might want to keep something. ]
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steve... doesn't really know what to make of it. he looks to geralt first, like geralt would have some sort of answer, some explanation for what's going on. he doesn't get an answer - of course he doesn't - so steve just sort of takes a step. walks over, closer to the van, hesitantly. he half expects shadow to start hissing, to be protective and tell him to piss off to somewhere else.
she doesn't.
still, steve gives her a respectful distance - peeking into the drivers seat of the van, catching little clues, an ash tray, a roll of lipstick. other than the details, the actual van, the drivers and passenger seats, they're about what he expects. an idea forms, rough around the edges but slowly forming.
he'd want you to have something. steve looks up. shadow stood at some point, moved to follow steve where he's walked closer to the front of the van, but she doesn't seem to be concerned. steve smiles at her, hesitantly, then looks to geralt. ]
You think so? [ he asks, uncertain, before the thought solidifies. he looks back to shadow, like she's the one he has to get the okay from now. something in how she looks back at him does it, and steve nods to himself before he is moving, quick, pulling open the drivers' side door and slipping in.
it smells a bit like someone is used to sitting here, something like cigarette smoke and something else. but even so, steve reaches for the keys and turns, waiting for the hum of the engine kicking in. for a moment, a very brief moment, he's back in hawkins in someone's RV, watching eddie hotwire their escape plan out. shadow materializes behind him, content with what he has apparently decided to do. he takes a breath, and then rolls the window down, leaning out to find geralt. ]
You coming?
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Already, he can see it in the way Steve slides behind the wheel. Nero never drove; the spectre of a woman he called Nico did, and Nero sat in the passenger seat with his invisible escort seemingly unwilling to let him take over. Even when they raced down the nonexistent road of the Horizon, Nero wasn't driving.
Now, the steering wheel relinquishes itself to Steve.
He'd brought Steve here in hopes it would help. It appears to, but more than that, Geralt realizes it is helping him, too. Letting him move on a little easier. Often, his brothers left behind memories and nothing more. A medallion, if they were lucky enough to find it. It's good to know that for once, there's more to hold onto.
He opens the door on the other side. Not two summers ago, he'd have not a clue what to do with a machine like this. These days, it's nearly as familiar as his horse, and he climbs inside with the same ease as he might a carriage.
Then he nods—encouragement for Steve to go ahead. ]
wraps this up with a nice little bow
now, Steve sits behind the wheel and it feels... right? god, it's awful in a lot of ways. his gut clenches aggressively, tightly, and Steve thinks he might be sick - all from the way the steering wheel feels warm. the seat well-worn, settled. like it was waiting for him. like he was supposed to be here, all along.
Steve won't cry, but when geralt settles into the seat next to him, he also can't look at him. instead, Steve reaches for the stick, puts the van in drive, and with a thick swallow and a tight jaw. the moment his foot presses down on the gas, music starts playing - entirely unprompted, unasked. loud, aggressive, and vaguely reminiscent of the stuff Eddie likes to play, but...
no, it's definitely nero's. ]
end of the month, post-au event. :)
A very simple one, to boot.
(Surely this is the man you wanted to hear from, right.)
But Henry is not one to wait around for things to happen to him; he's the active one, not the reactive one.]
So where do we stand now?
r i p
he just feels...tired. wrung out and a shell of the person he tries to be. he doesn't know what he's supposed to do here, or how he's supposed to act, or if he shouldn't have already done something about the whole ordeal.
Henry Creel has been living with them for over a year. Henry Creel has been a friend of theirs for over a year. Henry Creel is here, messaging him right now, asking where they stand and Steve doesn't know if he's supposed to be the bigger person (like Eddie) or if he should be angry (how he feels) or if he should already be acting, if he shouldn't be the one knocking down Henry's door and taking him down.
the uncertainty feels like it's tearing him from the inside out. it makes him feel like he's been doing everything wrong. and maybe he has.
for now - he doesn't know what he's supposed to say, so he goes with the easiest answer: ]
fuck you, man
i'm sure they will be Fine (no)
(He gnashes down disappointment. There is one thing that's defined Henry Creel ever since he was young, something which still applies to this day: that lingering desire for connection, his metaphorical tendrils always extending and seeing what others have to offer. Knowing what he drags back will always be lacking, but there is a fragment hope that still lingers in him, the one that he cannot quash, the youngest part of him that just won't die.
The notion of friendship with Steve has all been but rejected. Shattered to pieces thanks to a glimpse into the far-flung future, and maybe it was inevitable. Maybe it's just easier this way, to be met with anger and denouncement. Can he blame him? He'd probably feel exactly the same way. That's just how it is now -- what was slowly built in the last couple of years is simply severed.)
It still takes longer than necessary for him to reply.]
Just like that?
im so sad but also....... clenches fist
he and Henry were friends, weren't they? their connection from Hawkins, from a world where things were at least somewhat similar, being pulled and taken to somewhere wholly new. they'd survived the pit together, they'd survived solvunn and all its wacky weird god shit together, they'd been through this, together, and-
god, Steve hates it. hates that he's angry and he is angry at Henry but also he knows that his anger isn't only Henry. it isn't all Henry. Eddie had explained it pretty well - this back to the future shit, this timeline issue - and Steve feels bad because this would be easier if he wasn't friends.
but also, Steve's lost friends before. lost good friends. these emotions, this anger, is in a lot of ways too too familiar, and maybe that's what he's the most upset with above all. he'd known Tommy his whole life, still felt the loss of that connection like the loss of a limb, but they're different people now.
( except that a voice in the back of Steve's head keeps asking him - is Henry all that different from before? did a look into the future to a fact that hasn't happened yet really change either of them? at all? ) ]
I dunno, henry
kinda seems that way
unless you got any other crazy insane secret you wanna share
just air out all your dirty laundry
Jesus Christ
I trusted you, you know
I really did
fuck I'm so stupid
post-au, nocwich weekend.
Spill, asshole
( no, she will not elaborate. )
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but also out of nowhere he sees text that he recognizes, in a tone that feels so familiar it reminds him of a kick to the stomach, or a bunch to the jaw, more than anything else. she barrels into his mind and god, it hurts, it derails anything else he might have been focused on, but it's also something he knows and something he hadn't realized he'd been missing and now-
now what? shouldn't this be weird? shouldn't this be awkward? clarisse messages him and steve feels a little like he's finally found footing in a series of days that he's been lost. she might not know him, but if steve is being honest, she knows the only version of himself he wants to be. so. ]
uh
hi
also
i have no idea what youre talking about
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What the hell is going on with you and your boyfriend
( deliberately not you and eddie. she's not sugarcoating it, because she never has. )
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steve knows what it means to have been something you didn't want to be. he knows shame, knows guilt. there's a part of him that likes to think he's on the other side of it all, but it has a tendency to sneak up on him, to find him late at night or in the middle of conversations. a broken camera, a painted sign. it feels a little ridiculous to try and compare any of his past experiences to the level of which they all reached in that make-believe future, but.
he gets it. and it's why he doesn't bring it up. won't, probably ever, unless clarisse does first.
no- it's easier to just... it's easier to be. it's easier to get this message and not question why it feels so normal to clap back. to rolls his eyes. to know exactly what she's talking about and yet still not give her an easy time of it because that- that is not something he's really prepared to talk about. ]
i...don't have one?
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Don't give me that shit, Harrington
You know exactly who I'm talking about
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yeah, well la rue
the answer is still nothing
cause I don't have one
and never did, technically
so
there's nothing to spill
also why are you asking?
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Spare me the technicality bullshit
( because that is just an easy excuse to be a pussy in her opinion. )
There's a whole lot to spill about why y'all are being weird as fuck and not acknowledging it
We're acting like everything is normal
So, what, just because I didn't suck your face we get to be cool?
But suddenly the who-gives-a-shit-if-it-wasn't-real once-great love of your life is giving me mopey doe-eyes about how this isn't a thing?
Don't be an asshole, Steve, that's my job
how about a Steve Harrington roller coat rant
well. Steve's stubborn and sometimes annoying side. mostly annoying. pretty often annoying. ]
we're not being weird as fuck
we're trying to go back to NORMAL
a lot of shit happened during that weird crater nap thing
or didn't happen
or whatever
but that doesn't mean it changes shit here
or has to change shit
Eddie's pretty much my best friend
I freaking live with the dude
and just cause apparently our immortal god versions decided to date or whatever doesn't mean anything for us NON god versions
and WE'RE cool because
well
[ shit shit shit he wasn't prepared for this side of things. for him to have to give voice or words to why he's so willing (and secretly kind of desperate) to still be cool with clarisse. to still be friends with clarisse. to still- ]
UGH
man I don't know!
I want to still be cool with you
but if you woke up and decided 'hey actually that Harrington guy is kind of a huge asshole' then that would be cool too
or
not cool but you know what I mean
and he's NOT the love of my life!!!
Jesus CHRIST clarisse
none of it was real!!!!
none
actually no it doesn't matter
also, side note, being an asshole isn't a one person job
I can also be one
like all the time
probably like now
but dude I don't know
I just
he's been kinda very Not Talking About Any Of It since
it hasn't come up at all
wait
what do you mean he was giving you mopey doe eyes?
they are unhinged and im luv them
"""NonE oF iT wAs rEaL"""
Yeah, keep fucking telling yourself that, I hope it makes you feel better about being a goddamn coward
You wanna tell me how I have new fucking scars if none of that shit actually happened?
( she really wishes she could send photo through this stupid brain network, because she does not want to touch the horizon right now. but if she has to, she will mentally drag steve's ass to her domain and show him there. for now, she's just going to yell about it very loudly in her head. )
Nanaue fucking BIT ME and you and I both know that's fucking impossible unless some of that god shit was real
Maybe it's just the Singularity playing a big fucking joke on me, but I've been around enough dreams-that-aren't-dreams to know that it's not as simple as real-or-not-real
We didn't just take a nap, Steve, something or someone royally fucked with our heads
So if you want to selectively ignore all the shit that makes you uncomfortable, fine
I'm just telling you it didn't come from nowhere
There's this thing called the Mist back home that can make you see things that aren't really true or convince you something happened when it didn't
And believe me, this doesn't feel like that
This feels like, I don't know, like we were supposed to "live" through all of it
Like some fucking Christmas Carol shit or whatever
Like someone poked around in our brains and made us see the best or the worst of ourselves
I don't fucking know
Maybe that's not the real future, unless you want to believe in Fate and all that shit which I'm pretty sure has nothing to do with it
But can you actually say where you ended up and who you ended up with doesn't make sense?
Put all of the god shit aside
He's your best friend, you live with him, but what, neither one of you is man enough to poach the elephant in the room?
I mean I just saw him in Nocwich, looking unbelievably pathetic
Practically moaning about how y'all aren't a thing
Pretty sure he was trying to tell me something with the dopey love song he was playing
( which is, maybe, not exactly the truth. don't @ her. she didn't come here to fight fair. )
Maybe you should go talk to him instead of being an asshole
Or at least tell me why you can't talk to him if you'd rather continue being an asshole
You owe me that much if you still want to be cool
TRULY UNHINGED
dude
what is your DEAL about this?
why do you care so much???
[ though, of course, clarisse brings up that and Steve is suddenly a lot more interested in anything but the current topic of conversation. ]
wait wait wait hold up
you have scars?
why didn’t you tell me?
you’ve got shark bite scars???
and yeah, okay, fine
something fucked with our heads
it was probably the singularity- it likes doing that
at least this time it wasn’t fucked up nightmares and hallucinations about weird shit
some of the shit that happened was kind of awesome- good awesome. great, even.
but do you really think you’re gonna stick around here for 800 years?
or hell- LIVE for 800 more years? HERE?
become GODS?
like- I know that’s not as weird for you with your dad and all that but
jesus, I don’t know
and maybe we haven’t talked about it because we’ve been dealing with everything else
there’s no elephant, everything’s chill
except for you, apparently. you’re the only one super invested in all this
and I still don’t really get why
also, you’e full of shit
he hates playing love songs
but god
okay
other than the fact that the last two Talks we had I royally fucked up
I just-
man, I don’t know
I don’t want him to feel like he owes me anything
in like- not being together or also just, not anything else
and it’s not like I’ve ever actually liked a dude before
I don’t even KNOW about him
I just know that this is kinda it for him
and he should get to be with whoever he wants
not just some guy he knows from home
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( the other one maybe is. but she's not talking about that one right now. she is not letting him get sidetracked by this. )
You're missing the point, anyway
It's not about the scar, it's about where it came from
I'm not even saying any of it is going to happen!
Fucking hell, I don't want to be stuck here forever, either
But this is what we like to call A Sign
One you should probably pay fucking attention to
( she doesn't even bother responding to he hates playing love songs because that in itself feels like a gotcha, even if he doesn't realize it. )
Gods, do you even fucking hear yourself right now, Steve
Have you considered that he might want to be with some guy from home
And not just because you're from home, but, I don't know
Because you're you?
Also, liking a dude is exactly the same as liking a girl, dumbass
The only difference is you both have dicks
So it's a 2-for-1, who gives a shit
Listen, I get it, shit's fucked up, boo-fucking-hoo
But I've been here before, okay?
You wanna know what my fucking deal is?
( and it's only because she's so frustrated that she's even admitting this. maybe he will get it through his thick skull if she gives him a little context. maybe already having a breakdown with achilles about it was a good thing, or she probably wouldn't have even considered bringing it up. it's still hard to talk about, but with all the shit she's giving him for seemingly no reason, he deserves to understand why. and for once she's immensely glad the network can't transmit actual thoughts, or he'd be getting some truly horrific imagery with this. )
I was in love with my best friend and I never told her
I thought, we're both dating people, we're in the middle of a war, we're both girls, my dad would hate me, blah blah blah
Everything became an excuse not to say anything
Because I was terrified I would ruin our friendship and everything else
And then she died in a battle I could have prevented
She begged me to go with her and I didn't listen
And even as she lay dying in my arms, I couldn't tell her, because I was a coward
So don't start with these bullshit excuses
Be a man and do something about it before you regret it for the rest of your life
( congrats, steve. she's never explicitly told anyone this. her family knows what happened, but she's not sure they actually ... know. then again, how could they not. she literally became achilles. that's pretty much the gayest parallel there is. )
no subject
dipshit
[ the words are thought out, or whatever this is, before steve really notices how out of place they might be. except he and Clarisse are okay, aren't they? because that feels a little too close, a little too like they were in those not-memories, a little too...
ah, it is what it is. it's out there, and Clarisse is still yelling at him, and. yeah. okay. maybe he needs to stop overthinking this whole thing. Clarisse lays into him and it's not uncomfortable, it's not wild, but something about the conversation itself still doesn't compute for him. ]
you wanna call what happened in that dream a Sign?
you're starting to sound like some preacher on tv my mom used to listen to
and no! i haven't considered it!
because he's never done a fucking thing about it either
he's been weird since we came back, okay??
it's been WEIRD
so i don't know what you expect me to do about that, either
[ but then he sees Clarisse say you wanna know what my fucking deal is? and steve very suddenly, very immediately, know it's not a time to keep arguing. the words keep showing up as Clarisse gets into it, as she talks, and steve can't remember if this is new information or remembered, if this is something he's heard before of it is something about Clarisse that just doesn't... surprise him.
and yet...does.
it's another moment where steve feels the weird, off-putting separation between their lives, and yet a bit like there isn't any separation at all. steve feels like he knows what it means, to be in the midst of warzones (no matter how imagined they may be), what it means to lose a friend in your arms. losing someone like that changes you, but bringing in the concept of who it could be, who it could be... ]
i'm sorry about your friend, clarisse
seriously
no subject
( don't go all percy on her, harrington. )
Sorry I forgot you don't regularly have gods invading your dreams to tell you vague and dubiously helpful bullshit
Are you seriously trying to call me a televangelist
That's low, Steve
Zeus Almighty
Do I need to stage a fucking Horizon intervention for you two
Seriously
( do not put it past her. she will get over her own reservations about the horizon if it means getting them to talk to each other.
but despite laying it all out for him, now that it's out there, she really doesn't want to keep talking about silena. it still feels too raw, but she has considerably lost steam in the wake of an admission like that. in a way, it feels good to have finally said it to someone, even if she hasn't said it out loud, technically. but at the same time, all she really wants to do is retreat from it. if the hard part is supposed to be admitting it, why doesn't it feel any easier? maybe some invisible weight has been lifted, but she's still trudging waist-deep through the mud. what does she even say now? )
Yeah, well, it helps when you know what the afterlife looks like, I guess
( it doesn't, really, because she still has to live her life without silena, still has to live with the guilt and the grief of it all. but it's a nice lie she can tell herself every now and then. )
no subject
up until I got farm-baptized in the pond out back
I guess besides the monsters and the government and shit back in Indiana but
whatever
all I'm saying is that gods talking to you in dreams is still weird
and I'm not as ready to just accept 'signs' outta nowhere
[ listen.....percy and steve have a lot more in common than they don't, alright? there's a reason he and clarisse can get along as well as they do so quickly.
the concept of a horizon intervention is... actually, kind of terrifying. if no other part of this conversation had convinced Steve to talk to Eddie, the idea that clarisse could still find a way to force it to happen even halfway across the country/continent/thing is enough.
he also notices the way she absolutely does not want to keep on about the conversation. he doesn't really know what to do about it, because on one hand he feels like he should try and get her to keep opening up, but on the other... that would be a little hypocritical of him, wouldn't it? so Steve tries to take a kind of middle road - latching onto the whole afterlife convo and letting that take the wheel. ]
wait
what?
why do you know what the afterlife looks like?
no subject
Were the wise men there too
( that's ... that's the nativity, clarisse. but whatever. you can't expect her to know the difference between these things. baptisms and christmas aren't totally on her radar. she knows of them, and some of the year-rounders do little gift exchanges during the holidays, but for the most part they don't really celebrate mortal holidays at camp (she vaguely remembers christmas celebrations from when she was a kid, but it's not something that's ever been, you know, part of her identity or anything). there's the winter solstice every year, of course, but even then it's never really been a big deal like it used to be in ancient times (aside from the council of the gods that demigods are so rarely invited to attend). chiron tried to convince percy that camp should hold a traditional winter solstice feast in poseidon's honor one year and clarisse is pretty sure she's never seen percy run faster for half-blood hill. )
You know, if you can accept weird demons from an alternate dimension you really shouldn't be having such a hard time with this
( but maybe her life by comparison is exponentially weirder than one demon dimension, considering — )
What do you mean why
My dad's dad's brother is the king of the Underworld, dumbo
Nico pretty much lived there until recently, he's seen the whole place
And Percy and Annabeth have been there, too (no they weren't dead)
I mean, it's just never been a secret where we're going when we die, just a matter of when
no subject
no
I mean
the council was???
[ Steve was really trying to be funny and witty and it really did not at all land. that, or he's fully missing whatever sarcasm that clarisse is trying to send through these messages. he does know she is talking about Christmas, though, and part of him assumes she's trying to make some kind of joke out of it, but he uh. definitely misses that ]
it wasn't like that was easy to accept those either
I mean at a point I didn't have a choice but
give me a break here
[ the fight feels like it's over. he's not exactly sure where they landed or what's going to end up happening, if clarisse is going to take the kind of easing out of the conversation as a win? is Steve agreeing to something he doesn't really mean to? he doesn't know if it's worth worrying about.
especially because... yeah. ]
yeah but have YOU been there?
like to your actual afterlife place?
shit
that's
[ but then Steve takes a moment to think about it, and he's struck by a sudden realization that maybe that isn't... a bad thing. ]
what's it like for you guys?
your afterlife
[ totally not a pointed reason for him asking about afterlives. definitely normal for him to do. ]
no subject
Of what
( she has no idea what that means. the only councils she knows of are the council of cloven elders and the council of the gods. demigod brain does not compute mortal concepts of government. or organized religion? whatever. )
I'll give you a break when you stop being an idiot
( but, yeah, for the most part, the argument is over. there's only so many times clarisse can scream the equivalent of you're being a fuckhead, steve before she starts repeating herself, and now doesn't really feel like the time to start beating the dead horse. that, and it's a lot harder to say what she really means (i just want you to be happy, stupid) so she just. doesn't. )
No I haven't been there because I miss all the fun stuff
( and by "fun stuff" she means life-threatening quests and bonus trips to tartarus. not that she'd ever actually want to end up in tartarus. but still. it's always stay at camp, clarisse, protect the camp, clarisse. boring. )
It really depends on who you were in life
Your soul is judged when it enters the Underworld and you can end up in one of a few places
Heroes like us usually end up in Elysium, which is like our equivalent of Heaven, but really anyone who lived a good life can be sent there
It's the paradise of the Underworld
The Isles of the Blest are at the center of Elysium, but only those who have been reborn three times and achieved Elysium every time can get there, so most people don't try
I don't know how you out-paradise paradise, but I guess getting to live forever on a private island helps
The Fields of Asphodel is where most people wind up, and, yeah, it's about as boring as it sounds
Literally it's a giant field where souls just wander around aimlessly for all eternity
But people who were especially bad end up in the Fields of Punishment where, you know, they're punished for all eternity
And then there's Tartarus, but that's mostly reserved for monsters and primordial beings who should never see the light of day again
Think of it like the supermax of the Underworld
( she can sort of see where this is going, but — )
I know Silena made it to Elysium, but it's still
Hard, without her
( and then, just for a little levity: )
If you want to convert, it's not too late, Steve
Just one offering to the gods at every meal for the rest of your life
no subject
its the government people here in solvunn
when they summoned us we came through a pond thing and they were just
standing there
isn't that how you got summoned?
[ he's not even going to acknowledge that last bit. he's kind of always being an idiot, anyway, so it's not really something he can address or change.
clarisse says 'fun stuff' and Steve knows enough about clarisse to know what she's getting at. still, he can't quite wrap his head around wanting to go to some kind of afterlife, no matter whatever version or image or place it might be. but even so, Steve can't help but be curious. can't help but lean towards the possibility of knowing what that might look like.
he doesn't necessarily know what he imagined, but a field? punishment? he frowns, but it's not like clarisse can see that. Steve hates this - his first thought, his own real thought, if Eddie would make it to Elysium. if he would-
no. that's not helping anyone. ]
can you go and see her in elysium?
[ even as he asks the question, he knows it's not that simple. knows it couldn't be that simple. but if it's possible, if there is a chance he has to know. ]
dude
is that it?
seriously?
no subject
( the dawning realization that steve was not talking about indiana when he said farm-baptized... she just assumed they did weird shit in the midwest, okay. )
You meant here
It wasn't a pond, it was a pool or something in a cave under one of the military outposts
The Prime Minister or someone was there
( anyway, now that that's cleared up... )
I mean, Hades isn't a huge fan of demigods or anyone else taking field trips to the Underworld, so it's not like I can just pop in for a visit whenever I want
Haven't you heard of Orpheus?
Getting to the Underworld is pretty easy, but getting back out...
Usually requires a favor from a god
That's it for you, yeah
You're not a demigod, so you're off the hook for quests and shit
The rest of it is just ... belief or whatever, I guess
Making offerings, praying to your patron god
Apollo's here if you want to give it a shot
( ha. a shot. see what she did there. )
I'm kidding btw, Apollo is insufferable
And I'm allowed to say that because I'm related to him
You strike me as more of a Heracles kind of guy, anyway
God of strength and bravery, divine protector of mankind
event 19 kick-off
It's bad
How's Solvunn, are you safe?
no subject
how bad are we talking?
something's happening over here too
hard to tell what but the plants are all screaming
the locals are saying its an omen but its hard to tell if its here or somewhere else
they're bringing us all underground
no subject
I'm sorry, the WHAT
did you just say the PLANTS are screaming?
no subject
[ not that steve can do much from here but… he could see if wanda could? ]
i mean the plants are screaming
on a scale of creepy shit that happens in solvunn it’s not all that bad but
not great
also there were people talking about the lake turning red
but the primary settlement’s kinda far so i didn’t get a good look
no subject
I've said it before, I'll say it again:
Solvunn's freaking creepy.
You let me know if anything changes, or if you need anything, alright?
no subject
wait
you're SURE you're okay?
i don't know much about the cities but governments like that tend to really fuck people over
well. yeah
I feel like living out here is being caught in some weird b horror movie
but you get used to it after a while
or like- as used to it as anyone can be
I will
I don't know how long many of us are gonna be able to take this
or for how long
no subject
Screwing people over is what every government does, so nothing new there. Could be worse. At least it's not Thorne.
Hey, speaking of living in a b horror movie
How much have you actually learned from Geralt? Has he been teaching you how to hunt?
no subject
which is normal, I guess
any time shit like this goes down it's usually all three places at once, isn't it?
[ he knows dean doesn't mean but, but steve reads the comment and stops. because...well. when was the last thing he learned from geralt? he remembers sessions during their 800 year crater nap, remembers training and learning and monster hunting. but when was the last time out? ]
uh
it's been a little bit
nero did most of my training in person, so
no subject
Come find me when all of this is over. We can start in the Horizon, and maybe graduate to Nocwich later after I can see where you're at.
( Too many monster attacks happen on this whole ass planet for him to be comfortable not knowing where Steve's baseline is, or with that baseline not being foundationally solid. Sorry, kid. This is happening. )
no subject
okay
tell me when
I mean- I can still get into the horizon here too
so whenever you're not busy
[continuing from the old thread bc I got booted oops]
[The weight falling on him is crushing. It makes his arm shake, trying to hold himself up… trying to hold his organs in. All he tastes is blood, and when Nero blinks, he’s sure he’s not seeing as much as he should be. It’s all in red.
He shakes his head. Maybe he’s been waiting for this, huh? Ever since fucking Urizen. Since Vergil. He didn’t have Kyrie telling him be safe, just Wanda’s, don’t get yourself killed.
That’s — shit. Sorry, Wanda.
He can’t keep himself up. He falls back down, head hitting grass, brain feeling like it’s been shaken in a glass full of glitter. His vision sparks, and eventually he just closes his eyes. Still breathing, holding his cuts, but he can feel it. His body isn’t healing. And the demonic energy that flows through his body like a second heartbeat — he can’t feel it.
Nero gives up on holding his body together, instead grabbing Steve’s arm. Scaled, like his. His arm, on Steve’s body. The Devil Bringer. Is he gonna keep it? Kinda hope so. Keep the kid alive.]
No, you don’t. You’re not getting me anywhere. It’s — [He coughs, choking on the blood until he leans up enough to spit it out. It dribbles from his lips, thick, making his voice wet.] Not the first time. If I can’t heal myself, it’s not healing at all.
[Maybe her god-magic interfering with his blood. Same way the Pit fucked with him.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He doesn’t — he can’t. Can’t have his last fucking memories be of the pit. He thinks of what he had, what he might lose: Wanda, Himeka, fucking Rocket pretending he’s gonna take a shit in his bed.
His hands grip Steve, tight. The slip on the blood covering them, cutting on the demon’s scales.] Tell them I’m sorry. All right? Tell them about that bitch. In case she comes back.
[She promised to.]
You gotta do this for me. Wanda — she can keep you safe.
we are so good at this
He doesn’t even notice the fact he still has nero’s arm, and that nero doesn’t have any of it - not his wings, not his scales, nothing. steve doesn’t notice because nero’s grabbing onto him, and steve’s attention is forced back to now. Not the hole in nero’s gut, not the thick, suffocating smell of blood and rot, not the panic that threatens to bubble up out of the depths of steve’s gut. ]
What? What d’you mean not the first time? [ and then, without meaning to, steve’s eyes widen. Because hey- hey- that’s something, nero’s survived this before. nero can survive it again. ] What happened last time? What do I need to do? [ the words come out in a rush, on a single breath, like steve is worried that if he speaks too slowly there won’t be enough time.
nero’s grips him, and his grip is tight, almost tight enough to hurt, if steve wasn’t so high on adrenaline and panic and whatever else has a tendency to keep him moving in times like this. God damn he wished he had some kind of magic, some kind of ability, something that would actually- he doesn’t know. Help? Heal? Would it even work if nero’s healing isn’t working?
He’s looking around, like there might be something he can use from the woods. ]
Hey- [ his attention snaps back to nero, to his words, so quickly it almost hurts. ] No- no, nero, we’re going to figure this out. You tell them yourself. I mean- I’ll be there, I can add to whatever weird story you’re gonna spin about this, and. Yeah. No. No, we’re fine, you’re fine, this is going to-
[ steve almost hears Robin, somewhere, in the back of his head - fueling the words that spill from him. There’s no reason for him to be talking this much, he should be thinking about how he’s supposed to get nero somewhere that he can heal and-
Wait. Wanda. Wanda. Wanda can fix this.
steve thinks I need to message her at the same time he recognizes that nero had safe and steve’s frown is confused, a thought or two behind. ] What? No, c’mon man, you’re- you’re freaking me out. [ he forces a laugh, or tries to, to no real success. ]