Ekkehardt Gehring (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spelleton) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
datadiving2019-03-15 12:09 am
spelleton) wrote in datadiving2019-03-15 12:09 am
spelleton) wrote in datadiving2019-03-15 12:09 am
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Of. Fucking. Course.
The same man as always deep down, no matter how much he forgot--what he knew and didn't know. It's as infuriating as it is relieving.]
«Spare me. You didn't even say a word before now. For all I know you'll wake up tomorrow morning and have completely forgotten any of this ever happened.»
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He keeps working, keeping his hands occupied. His conscious mind submerged, at least temporarily. ]
«I thought I was dreaming, or possessed, or I'd made it up...it's been so long.»
[ He sounds pained and, in truth, hurt. Frustrated. He doesn't have any right to be, he thinks, because Avery is correct. He'd never said anything before. He can't expect to be understood. He can't expect anything.
They've both changed so much. And maybe that's why he never spoke even when he could, because the person he was all those centuries ago had been good at never saying things.
The words at least you remember, at least you lived would be so easy to say, but he doesn't want to. It's far, far too cruel. He knows how high a price was paid for him to live. It's not any better. ]
«I didn't even know if you were real. I didn't even know if I was real.
There's nothing -- there's nothing left of me.»
[ There's a small tch as Ekkehardt pauses in his work, briefly. His hands are shaking in a way they wouldn't normally do, so he lets it pass, and continues. He shows no sign that he's aware a conversation is even happening. ]
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[He hates this. He's there and not, gone but present, a locked away piece within a greater whole sitting there talking to him--taunting him with all the things in the world that just can't be.
The friend he had when he was young. The only piece of a home that no longer exists.]
«And I'm equally aware that you've confirmed my suspicions: you'll be gone by morning. Maybe even earlier. I could blink and it would be Gehring here while you disappear off to whatever void you've been holed away in.
So thank you for taking the time to rub it all in my face. Really appreciate it.»
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Why did he ever think it could be anything else? But that was him, wasn't it, making the best of it, trying to make things better or to be happy or to act like nothing had changed.
Something in him snaps.
The mask drops from his hands and it's as loud as if he'd slammed his hands on the table. It's only the knowledge that their younger selves are there that keeps him from being furious. Death had broken him again and again, left sharp edges rounded off by time but still capable of cutting. ]
«And you wonder why I never spoke to you.»
[ He doesn't raise his voice, but his tone is sharp and hurt and cold. He feels numb. ]
«If this is how you're treating me, then why should I bother?» [ His smile is bitter and frail and sad, because he can't in truth be angry for long, but it hurts. ]
«Why did I even bother to hope that I could do something?
I died trying to help you, and then I died trying to find you. And now we're both this and--it doesn't matter, does it?
It doesn't matter. Dying and coming back, it's all the same. To you, I'm nothing now.»
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«Would you rather I act like her?»
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He almost says is that what this is about? but -- of course it would be. Avery has changed so much, but of course he'd still be hurting. Even after centuries, he hasn't healed, and he can't blame Avery for that. ]
«You know that's not what either of us want. And you know that's not what I said.
Am I that painful to you?»
[ His voice is plaintive. If this is what happens when he surfaces, then maybe it's better if he drowns.
He doesn't know what he was expecting. All he can do is hurt. All he's ever been able to do is hurt, in the end. ]
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I don't know what brought you to the surface now or why or how, but I do know that it's temporary. So why even bother getting my hopes up?»
[You're just going to leave me alone again.]
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You were my best friend. You still are.
Maybe I'm just...
I wanted to be selfish. Just for a little while. And I thought, maybe, it might make you less hurt. But even that...I can't do either of those well.»
[ He laughs, a little. Short and stifled. If he could still cry, he might be close to tears, but he can't, so he's not. ]
«I've ruined it already.»
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[A command that fades into something almost pitiful.]
«Don't... Don't go.»
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All alone. ]
«What else can I start with?»
«You know, better than anyone,» that I've always been this way.
[ He grew up again, without him there, and he's changed by time and circumstance and pain - but his soul is strong enough to keep coming back. ]
Don't be sad. [ He finally looks at his friend, his gaze level.
Ekkehardt is still the same person, in the end. Like he went away somewhere, and only just now returned. ]
«It doesn't suit you.»
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That said, he isn't completely out of steam. He arches an eyebrow and stares at Ekkehardt a moment, looking him right in the eye....
...and promptly tugs the corners of his lips into an exaggerated smile using his index fingers in a gesture of childish, defiant mischief.
It's as nostalgic as all the pranks he's played before.]
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(He's always chasing after him.) ]
«See, I told you,» [ it's mostly filler, just to have something to say. Without really thinking about it, he leans forward a little, reaches out to place his hand on one of Avery's. ] «smiling suits you better.»
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«Yeah, yeah, I know. It's practically my trademark.»
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The person he is now flashes a brief grin at that expression, but not mockingly; sharp and playful, but sincere. ]
«I know. I didn't forget that.
It's good to see you again, Avery.»
[ After a moment he removes his hand, but doesn't withdraw. He is giving him a bit of space, though; he knows this is...difficult. ]
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«It's good that you finally showed up. Don't run off again, you hear me?»