[Of course it was. Now more than ever. After everything has changed, after the world's been turned upside down, when the woman he loved (loves?) most has ripped his and Ekkehardt's life to tiny little pieces, something in his life needs to remain the same.
And maybe if he jokes enough it'll become a little less real, a little less painful. Something normal, background noise in this strange, new existence.]
And what about you? Coming out of your silence after all these years to call me stupid?
[There's clear, genuine amusement there. Honestly, he couldn't think of anything more fitting.]
[ Time was something he was unable to grasp, when he was in the grip of his own pain; he doesn't know how long it's been since he died. All these years, his friend says, and the shock (somewhere between surprise and horror) shows on his face before he can stop it.
(He'd already suspected, but it's one thing to suspect and another thing to confirm it.)
Since they're already pretending anyway, he speaks normally and pretends it didn't happen. ]
What else was I supposed to call you, hmm?
I can't very well call you a genius for hitting yourself on the head. That would just be rewarding you for idiotic behaviour.
[ Like he hasn't technically rewarded him already..... ]
[He didn't know. Somehow it's not that surprising, but expectation doesn't dull the pain. The most he can hope for is that Ekkehardt wasn't aware of anything at all during that time, but he doubts it.
He's heard those screams. Can hear them now if he closes his eyes and thinks about the things he doesn't want to remember.]
Accidents happen, Ekke. Even geniuses make mistakes.
[ He hadn't always glued himself to Avery's shadow, over the long years. Though such occasions were rare, he'd slink off to other places, somewhere where he couldn't be seen, only barely sensed.
Even without his mind operating in any sort of functioning state, some kind of tiny pilot light of what was probably consideration had driven him away, like an animal instinctively driven to hide and lick its wounds.
The screams had echoed, despite his best efforts. ]
As you've told me before, repeatedly. [ He shakes his head with a sigh. ]
I don't know why I kept going along with all your terrible ideas. I think that just encouraged you to be more reckless.
Why wouldn't I? [ Another moment of surprise, like not replying was something that had never crossed his mind.
And it really never had.
He huffs, after a moment. ]
If rescuing you and running away counted as fun, certainly, I suppose I must have had the time of my life! [ The med student doth protest too much, really. If he hadn't wanted to go, he wouldn't have gone. But he cared too much to leave Avery in the trouble he'd inevitably get himself in.
(Hadn't that been what got him into this in the first place, made him what he is now? But he doesn't regret it. It's one of the few things he holds no regret for.) ]
But I suppose I have to thank you for giving me plenty of practice for my studies...my teachers were certainly surprised to see I had so much experience already.
And you made me ancient in the process from stress, I might add!
[ He's about to try and break that silence, but...
Well, what can he say to that.
He does still laugh, but it sounds sad. Rough and crackling and broken around the edges, another reminder of how much time he's lost, how he's changed. ]
Don't be stupid. [ He glances at him with a faint, sad smile. There's no bite to his words. ]
You didn't drag me into anything.
[ It was his choice to argue, to fight back, after all. It's simple, to him; an action with a consequence.
Isn't it what he's always done? They'd argue and bicker and Ekkehardt would threaten to leave Avery to his own devices and his own troubles, but when it came down to it he'd never left him behind. Not once. ]
[Yes he did. How many times had he ignored the alarm bells in his head? How many excuses had he made for her jealous behavior? He'd been so blinded by love, and now he was suffering the consequences for it. And so was Ekkehardt.
That was what he got for trying to play the nice guy, wasn't it?]
Sure. Whatever. But you don't need to stay in it either. This is my mess to clean up.
[ He could say a lot of things. Now you're being responsible? I never thought I'd see the day or something else similarly mocking.
The person he was would have already said it without thinking, because their relationship had simply been comfortable and slightly vitriolic and they could go back and forth endlessly.
But it's changed so much, and they've both changed so much, and it's never been more obvious than it is now. Avery was never really responsible; that had been Ekkehardt's job, well suited to his personality. One running ahead, one following behind; something they'd done even as teenagers.
All of that seems so far away now. ]
If it's truly what you want, I'll go elsewhere.
[ He doesn't look at him. It's the only sign that maybe saying something like that might feel painful. ] But I'd prefer not to leave, if it's all the same to you.
[Avery growls and glares down at the ground below.]
Who's being stupid now? It's not about what I want, Ekkehardt, it's about you not screwing yourself over even more.
[He leans forward, puts his head in his hands]
The kingdom's been gone for decades now. I haven't aged. I don't even know if I can. I don't even know if this form or the other one is what I really look like now for god's sake. If you stay, that's the kind of crap you're dealing with. For an eternity.
[He looks up, tired.]
Do you really want that? Because if you're just sticking around out of duty, you can buzz off.
Do you really think I'm that cold? [ It's not quite a serious question, but it's a little pained, all the same. ]
If I'd wanted to, I could have left this place behind. [ He could have fled into the forest and never returned. The contract had only specified bringing him back; it hadn't bound him to anything. Mad with pain, he could have run and kept running - probably forever.
Some nameless wraith that would have eventually been pitied -or feared - and run to ground; exorcised and freed from torment, history and memories disregarded and long forgotten.
His voice is quiet and tired. ] The contract you made didn't bind me to you. I've always been here because I willed it to.
It is what brought me back. [ It's one of the things he does remember, with clarity. Perhaps it was another little laugh the daemon had at his expense, attempting to stir some kind of hatred or ill feeling towards the person who had ultimately caused its demise. ] It's not as if I can forget.
[ Another short shake of his head. ]
I did it to myself. I didn't have to argue with her, or fight with her.
So you don't have to be sorry. My fate -- wasn't your doing.
[ Apologies - guilt - is a bad look on his friend, Ekkehardt thinks. Maybe that's a bad thing to excuse, but...
It mattered more, once. Now it matters less.
All they really have in this world is each other, after all. ]
Oh, you can only speak in contracts now? [ His voice is teasing. ] It's not as if you'd need to bind me to your service.
But yes, of course I agree. I hope this isn't going to be a contract that requires signing, because I don't know if I remember how to write. [ It's half a joke and half him not having tested it out yet so he really doesn't know.
Eternity is a long time, certainly. But he doesn't mind at all. ]
This time? [ His amusement is clear. ] All you need to get me to agree to things is ask, you know that. You already have the advantage there.
[ He huffs a laugh. Some things really don't change, and he can't keep the relief out of his voice, that little undertone of guilt that goes along with it, at that realisation.
It had been his fault, dying. It only follows that leaving Avery alone all this time, worse than leaving him alone - being there but not being present, just another representation of everything he'd lost - is his fault, too. ]
You say that like you don't already make me work for everything, Avery. [ If his hair wasn't already white, Avery would have turned it white from stress. ]
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And maybe if he jokes enough it'll become a little less real, a little less painful. Something normal, background noise in this strange, new existence.]
And what about you? Coming out of your silence after all these years to call me stupid?
[There's clear, genuine amusement there. Honestly, he couldn't think of anything more fitting.]
You're just as uptight as I am hilarious.
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(He'd already suspected, but it's one thing to suspect and another thing to confirm it.)
Since they're already pretending anyway, he speaks normally and pretends it didn't happen. ]
What else was I supposed to call you, hmm?
I can't very well call you a genius for hitting yourself on the head. That would just be rewarding you for idiotic behaviour.
[ Like he hasn't technically rewarded him already..... ]
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He's heard those screams. Can hear them now if he closes his eyes and thinks about the things he doesn't want to remember.]
Accidents happen, Ekke. Even geniuses make mistakes.
[especially the planned ones.]
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Even without his mind operating in any sort of functioning state, some kind of tiny pilot light of what was probably consideration had driven him away, like an animal instinctively driven to hide and lick its wounds.
The screams had echoed, despite his best efforts. ]
As you've told me before, repeatedly. [ He shakes his head with a sigh. ]
I don't know why I kept going along with all your terrible ideas. I think that just encouraged you to be more reckless.
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[He was grateful he hadn't. Avery had had to be dragged to safety out of more than a few of his more hare brained schemes.]
Especially when I sent stuff from school. You never had to send anything back.
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And it really never had.
He huffs, after a moment. ]
If rescuing you and running away counted as fun, certainly, I suppose I must have had the time of my life! [ The med student doth protest too much, really. If he hadn't wanted to go, he wouldn't have gone. But he cared too much to leave Avery in the trouble he'd inevitably get himself in.
(Hadn't that been what got him into this in the first place, made him what he is now? But he doesn't regret it. It's one of the few things he holds no regret for.) ]
But I suppose I have to thank you for giving me plenty of practice for my studies...my teachers were certainly surprised to see I had so much experience already.
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See? Life experience! Let no one ever say that I have taught you valuable skills over the years!
[The laughter dies little by little and settles into a silence that starts comfortably, but slowly grows thick and heavy.]
I've really dragged you into one hell of a mess this time, haven't I?
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[ He's about to try and break that silence, but...
Well, what can he say to that.
He does still laugh, but it sounds sad. Rough and crackling and broken around the edges, another reminder of how much time he's lost, how he's changed.
]
Don't be stupid. [ He glances at him with a faint, sad smile. There's no bite to his words. ]
You didn't drag me into anything.
[ It was his choice to argue, to fight back, after all. It's simple, to him; an action with a consequence.
Isn't it what he's always done? They'd argue and bicker and Ekkehardt would threaten to leave Avery to his own devices and his own troubles, but when it came down to it he'd never left him behind. Not once. ]
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That was what he got for trying to play the nice guy, wasn't it?]
Sure. Whatever. But you don't need to stay in it either. This is my mess to clean up.
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The person he was would have already said it without thinking, because their relationship had simply been comfortable and slightly vitriolic and they could go back and forth endlessly.
But it's changed so much, and they've both changed so much, and it's never been more obvious than it is now. Avery was never really responsible; that had been Ekkehardt's job, well suited to his personality. One running ahead, one following behind; something they'd done even as teenagers.
All of that seems so far away now. ]
If it's truly what you want, I'll go elsewhere.
[ He doesn't look at him. It's the only sign that maybe saying something like that might feel painful. ] But I'd prefer not to leave, if it's all the same to you.
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Who's being stupid now? It's not about what I want, Ekkehardt, it's about you not screwing yourself over even more.
[He leans forward, puts his head in his hands]
The kingdom's been gone for decades now. I haven't aged. I don't even know if I can. I don't even know if this form or the other one is what I really look like now for god's sake. If you stay, that's the kind of crap you're dealing with. For an eternity.
[He looks up, tired.]
Do you really want that? Because if you're just sticking around out of duty, you can buzz off.
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Do you really think I'm that cold? [ It's not quite a serious question, but it's a little pained, all the same. ]
If I'd wanted to, I could have left this place behind. [ He could have fled into the forest and never returned. The contract had only specified bringing him back; it hadn't bound him to anything. Mad with pain, he could have run and kept running - probably forever.
Some nameless wraith that would have eventually been pitied -or feared - and run to ground; exorcised and freed from torment, history and memories disregarded and long forgotten.
His voice is quiet and tired. ] The contract you made didn't bind me to you. I've always been here because I willed it to.
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[He shakes his head]
Of course you know about the contract.
[It was etched into Ekkehardt's soul as well. Hard not to notice, wasn't it?]
Still, I'm... I'm sorry you got wrapped up in all of this.
And you know how much I hate apologies.
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[ Another short shake of his head. ]
I did it to myself. I didn't have to argue with her, or fight with her.
So you don't have to be sorry. My fate -- wasn't your doing.
[ Apologies - guilt - is a bad look on his friend, Ekkehardt thinks. Maybe that's a bad thing to excuse, but...
It mattered more, once. Now it matters less.
All they really have in this world is each other, after all. ]
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But Ekkehardt believes it, and he's here and for the first time in a long time he doesn't feel so alone.
He glances over, and a small smile appears.]
So you hereby agree to deal with anything I get up to from now through the rest of eternity?
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But yes, of course I agree. I hope this isn't going to be a contract that requires signing, because I don't know if I remember how to write. [ It's half a joke and half him not having tested it out yet so he really doesn't know.
Eternity is a long time, certainly. But he doesn't mind at all. ]
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We'll just make it a verbal agreement this time. I'm out of ink anyway.
Hope you don't mind if I make you work for this agreement, because oh boy do I intend to!
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[ He huffs a laugh. Some things really don't change, and he can't keep the relief out of his voice, that little undertone of guilt that goes along with it, at that realisation.
It had been his fault, dying. It only follows that leaving Avery alone all this time, worse than leaving him alone - being there but not being present, just another representation of everything he'd lost - is his fault, too. ]
You say that like you don't already make me work for everything, Avery. [ If his hair wasn't already white, Avery would have turned it white from stress. ]
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Gotta make you work for it, Ekke. Make sure you get that sense of pride and accomplishment! That's what friends are for.
[It feels good to talk to another person again--one he doesn't intend to kill later. It almost makes Avery feel a little more... human.
Just a little.]