logsinthenight | EVENT LOG: BURY A FRIEND

EVENT LOG: BURY A FRIEND

characters: everyone.
location: around town.
date/time: october 9-17.
content: the hallucinations begin...
warnings: psychological horror. please cw tags appropriately.

it's probably something that shouldn't be said out loud

October 9 feels like a normal day at first, save for the red lighthouse beam cutting through the darkness overhead. You know by now—or you've heard—that the lighthouse is only active during ferry arrivals and events... And there's definitely no ferry docked at the, er. Beach. The town is quiet, the forest spirits behave business-as-usual, Rastus doesn't know what's up. Whatever's going on, you'll have to figure it out for yourself.

And you will, though the hallucinations are subtle at first: objects moving when they shouldn't, people's proportions looking just a bit off, voices in an empty room, and so on. Is it just your mind playing tricks in the darkness? Might be! Will did warn you all about the effects of living without a sun and a proper day/night cycle.

As the days go on, the hallucinations are harder to ignore, no matter how much you may wish to wave them off as flukes. What's wrong with everyone's faces? When did all the howling start? Who do you hold onto when the world drops out from under you? And those hands...

While you might know it can't be real, it certainly feels real. But at least it can't last forever!

...Right?

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[ a spell? ] You mean like a dream? Like that dream where you were in your head? The asylum. You said you though Alice and I were together there. That place?

Q, that was. Ages ago. And. She's not-- [ he reaches forward and draws quentin in, steadies him, unlike the monster who would simply drag him along. ] We're dead, remember? In Beacon? She probably wouldn't even be able to do that here. Magic just feels so different. Remember?

[ his touch is light and careful. respectful. taking quentin's hands gently and holding them still. ]

I. You're really here too, right? Y- you didn't go? I didn't-- [ eliot swallows thickly, and mike pulls at his coat from the small of his back. 'do it. kill him. the water's right there. that's what you do best,' he laughs. ]

I-- yes?

[So confused, and Julia isn't helping, calling his name like he's a missing puppy, all smiles and soft and Quentin tries to wrap an arm around Eliot, tries to ignore what he's seeing in favor of what he's feeling. Eliot, the sound of his heart beating under under his ear and the rasp of the breath in his lungs. The vest under his face and Eliot's steadying hand on his back and he hugs him tightly.]

I remember? I remember, but Eliot-- Eliot, I can hear her? She's-- she's right there, in the cabin. And--and Alice. Alice is here, too. I saw her, I. I'm here. I'm here and maybe I'm not? Am I here? Is-- I think my brain is breaking.

[ he cradles quentin carefully, afraid he might break in other ways. ]

I. I'm not sure. I'm seeing things too. Hearing. Hearing things. Bad, very bad, not-good things. It's. I'm. I thought you look liked Mike? At some point. I don't. I can't even remember why. I.

[ eliot presses his lips to quentin's crown, too frightened to move away. ]

Something happened. Something must have happened. I think everyone is-- There's just. I think I feel like I understand what it's like to be a puppy? All the. Unsolicited touching. And prodding. And. And maybe there's that one kid that's an asshole trying to choke you but he's there. A lot. And he doesn't like you. He wants something bad to happen to you because he's angry he didn't get a puppy when he wanted one too.

[ there's a beat after as he thinks over what he just said. ] Maybe I'm breaking too.

Edited 2019-10-28 21:24 (UTC)

You feel like... a puppy?

[And Quentin is following, is trying to stay focused, listening to the words, the tone of them and feeling just Eliot's mouth move against the top of his head.]

I-- someone keeps choking me? I mean, isn't that just-- what you were saying?

[His heart is pounding, fear flooding through his limbs as he voice goes quiet, almost whispering.]

I'm not Mike. I'd never be Mike, I'm not the Beast. I'd never hurt you, I'd never, ever hurt you if you're Eliot.

I'd. Like to hope so. [ even strained, it's gentle, something the monster could never match as he only ever understood quiet and not the softness of love. ] I'd never hurt you, Quentin. I. I don't want to. Ever. And. And even if you're Mike, I n- never meant.

[ he shudders, fingers grasping onto quentin's shirt. ] You're not that. You're not. You can't be Mike because you're. [ a soft laugh, and just like that the anxiety melts away. ] Too short. And your hair is long. And flat. And it's getting in my mouth. But it's you. God. It's really you.

[ eliot could cry from relief. he doesn't. ] I guess what I meant is. I feel so. Small. And. Insignificant. Someone's. Pet? And not. Not enough. Something in the dark keeps choking me. Wants to drag me through the woods. Wants me to. To give up. But I don't. I don't want to.

Don't give up--

[Like that hadn't been exactly what Quentin was doing, giving up and giving in to the voices in his head, to the voices from the woods and coming out of mouths he couldn't even see. He pushes firmer against Eliot, trying to hard to tell the difference between now and then, between Eliot's loving hands and the monster's clumsy caresses.]

Stay with me. [a small pleading voice, drowned out by Alice and Julia and the nameless monster, all of them calling out, calling for him.]

I don't know what's happening to me. But I'm not-- you're not. You're Eliot, you're Eliot and you're here and. You've never been anyone's pet.

[ he presses kisses against quentin's head, not keeping count. the words are what he needs and the kisses are his gratitude. ]

I'll stay. I'll always stay. Whenever you need me, Q. I.

You won't go, will you? You'll stay too? I- I don't. I don't know if I could find you again. I don't want to lose you. I can't. I can't lose you.

[ why did you go? he thinks but doesn't speak. ]

[There are no words for how he feels - lost, alone, hurting, heart broken open and bleeding in his chest. Because no matter what, it feels like he is ripping out a piece of himself. Fear like poison in his blood, keeping him up and keeping him helpless, pushing him even further down than he was before he started seeing, hearing, feeling things.]

I'll stay, I'll stay-- I'll always stay. Where ever you are, is home. Always, with you.

[And that probably doesn't make much sense, but it's one thing he's clinging to, the one thought above all else that makes this even a little bit bearable - that Eliot loves him. That he loves Eliot and that fifty years would never be enough. One lifetime, isn't enough.]

You won't lose me, you'll never lose me. [Quentin laughs a watery kind of laugh, wiping his face against Eliot's shirt, hands clenched white-knuckled in it like he'd drift away if he ever let go.]

I kept thinking I failed? I keep seeing-- I keep feeling--

[ he sighs shakily, relief. ] You're my home too. [ 'just wait until you kill him,' mike mocks, and eliot grimaces.

drawing back a bit, his hands find the sides of quentin's face. careful, so careful, as he lifts him up from hiding, kissing his forehead, his cheeks, his nose. ]

You're not failing. You're here, and you're surviving. Stay with me. We'll figure things out. Okay?

Just. Please don't go again. Please. Don't go where I can't follow.

I am, though. I am, Eliot, and I don't-- I. She keeps telling me to. That this isn't real and-- and it makes sense? Because who gets to have magic for real? Who gets to live for fifty years in the magical kingdom I read about the first time I--

[And Quentin leans in to the soft kisses falling on his face, the warmth of Eliot's mouth and hands on his skin with a little whimpering sound.]

Who gets that? Who gets to be the hero and-- and maybe she's right? Maybe I just dreamed you up. This-- this perfect person who's just perfect for me.

[ oh, how it hurts to hear quentin say these things, like he was never meant to be, and eliot remembers those feelings of his own, how impossibly real some things could be. knowing mike, loving him, killing him. and quentin who was always there who loved him no less. quentin who died to protect everyone. quentin who he still found in this place.

he sniffs, eyes glassy. ] Q. [ it's said with a fearful desperation, that quentin can be standing in front of him and still just slip away. ]

We never choose who we get to be. That's how. And. How could I even be perfect? I'm the furthest thing. If I'm some perfect dream, then I never would have hurt you, never would have pushed you away. I never would have-- You never would have needed to fear the Monster. You wouldn't hate cinnamon. You wouldn't still love what Fillory stood for even as much as you hate the reality now. What dream would have such imperfect things?

It wouldn't exist, Q. Dreams could never be so horribly painful. Even when they become nightmares, we wake.

I don't? I don't always wake up, because I-- because I break sometimes and I don't. I can't always trust myself and I make shitty choices all the time. I-- Julia? Everything that happened to her and it's my fault. I know you didn't like her. But, she-- what she did? It was nothing compared to what I did to her and maybe she's right, maybe something like Reynard happened and it's was my fault and-- and that's why I'm here?

[That doesn't mean he's letting of Eliot, though. He's clinging on to him so tightly, his fingers are starting to hurt and Eliot's shirt is hopelessly creased now and Quentin still doesn't let go.]

You're perfect for me. You're everything-- you're everything I ever dreamed of in a partner. You're-- jesus, you're smart. So smart and so much smarter than me and you're popular and you're witty and you're-- and you're so alive. And pretty. But that's not even-- you get me, Eliot. You get me like no one else, and that-- that's huge. That's something I never--

[Cut off and disjointed, half sentences that he chokes off or swallows down on purpose, or forgets the ending to because he gets distracted by Alice, by Julia, by the Monster.]

Um. [ there are a lot of words to process there, so he. needs some time to process it. ] I mean. I do like her. And I do know you. And. And I know it could never be as bad as you're thinking of it. Or making it. Because that's. That's just your brain breaking? Not you being you. Just your brain hurting you. Because it can. Because it wants to.

But dreams aren't--

Shitty choices aren't as much of a thing? In dreams. That's why they're dreams. So. If. If things aren't shitty, then you're not dreaming.

And if you're not terrified all the time, it's not a nightmare.

Also I'm. Really not perfect? Even slightly? Ssso. So.

[ the words die because he isn't even sure what else he could say to convince him. it's then that he remembers though, how bad they are with words. how words always only seem to complicate. how sometimes they need to just shut up and--

he leans in and kisses quentin before he can speak again. ]

[There were a lot of words coming out of Eliot, and just as many trying to push themselves out of Quentin's mouth before he's kissed and that quiets all of that. And with a small noise low in his throat, Quentin gets a hand up to cup Eliot's face, brush his fingers over his ear and kiss him back desperately.

The monster never did this, and Julia is still calling his name and it isn't that important, not with Eliot kissing him in the dark and Alice is right, Quentin is always going to want this. After that first time, and she was right, just as she is now, that Quentin didn't want her this much, didn't ache for her this much.]

[ he sighs, sinks into the way quentin reaches for him, holds him back, wants him. the shiver runs along his veins, and eliot whimpers in relief. quentin's breath is hot, his lips warm and wet. he's real. none of this is a hallucination. he can here mike calling and mocking, tugging and touching at his back, but none of it feels as real as the weight of quentin leaned against him, lips pressing and seeking. he could never imagine that right, not that particular awkward brand of quentin's kisses, even in his dreams.

his fingers press into quentin's hair, right hand sliding down to steady quentin by the small of his back. it's hard not to lie to himself about how quentin definitely doesn't smell or taste great given he's apparently just been. out. and probably hasn't showered. or brushed his teeth. in days. but eliot can't bring himself to really care. he can't really care. this is the realest thing he's felt in a long while, and if he doesn't make sure it stays that way, he might very well disappear. ]

[The Monster is still there, same as Julia and Alice, like they're drawing in closer all three of them. Maybe because Quentin is trying to very hard not to pay attention.

There's that familiar lingering touch to the top of his head, a hand trailing down his chest- impossible, impossible, because Eliot is there, drawn up tightly and pressed so firmly against all of Quentin that there's no room for anything else. Eliot's face against his hand and Eliot's chest pushing in to his with every breath either of them takes.

But they're still there.

Julia, crying now and she's begging. So prettily. For Quentin to just come back, please, Q. Come back. She never touches him, though.

And Quentin kisses Eliot back, desperate and crying a little, tears leaking out from under his tightly shut eyes and

Alice. She sounds so cold, like an ice-burn on winter cheeks. Something that will sting, once it sets in properly and she's talking, soft and superior, about all of his many, countless failures and how this is just going to be another one, Q, god. Didn't you learn anything?]

Stay with me, stay with me, stay with me--

[Quentin is almost chanting it, between kisses and in to the next one. Making a choice, because even if this is all just in his head, even if Eliot and everything that they are, is just something he made up in his head- even if all of this is just one big lie and the real world is just outside, without magic, without pain, without Eliot, Quentin is going to choose this. Right here.]

I'm here. I'm here, Q. [ whispers and promises squeezed between kisses. quentin still seems so lost, even though he's right here, and the only thing eliot knows is that he will always be whatever quentin asks. ] I won't go. Never. I love you.

[ his words are certain, even if gentle. his hand brushes back against quentin's neck, thumb tracing against his jaw. there's a struggle in quentin's voice, and eliot wants nothing more than to soothe him. ]

Breathe. I'm with you. [ he lets their brows meet. ] I'm right here. Focus. Focus on me.

I am. I am-- jesus, El. I am.

[Still with his eyes closed and hugging Eliot so close, their faces kissing-close and the hands-- the fucking hands--]

Don't-- don't-- if you. Uh, don't do it gently? Please?

[Too similar, too familiar right now and Quentin pushes harder in to Eliot's hand.]

Are you--? Are you okay? Are you hurt?

[Not that Quentin is going to open his eyes to check, not yet. He isn't ready for those flaming eyes to look back at him, is never going to be ready to see that again. It was horrible enough the first time and this time, this time he's going to lose it. If the Monster comes back. If-- if--if]

[ he isn't really sure what that means, coming from q. how gentle is too gentle? and which it for that matter? he doesn't know. he can't tell. but quentin presses in harder, and eliot decides to pull him tightly against his chest, hand pressed to the back fo quentin's to make sure he does go, and palm pressed hard and flat against his upper back to keep him steady. ]

I'm. I. I don't know? I don't think so. I. Other than. I mean. Maybe my brain is. Hurt a little. I don't. I don't understand why I keep seeing Mike? Or. Or why he's saying all these things. I. I didn't want to do it. I didn't. I- I'm not. I'm not a murderer. I- I don't--

[ eliot huffs shakily against quentin's shoulder, furrowing his brow, pressing deeper. ]

Are you okay? I couldn't find you. And And you never came home? I. Why are you all the way out here? I was so scared.

[Better, so much better when he can feel the difference, when Eliot is holding on tight enough to almost hurt and pressing in.]

Mike? I see-- I keep seeing Alice. Alice and Julia? And-- the monster? There are so many hands, always touching--

[Like that explains anything at all, because it comes out disjointed and like questions. But Quentin says it anyway, mouth pushed in to Eliot's shoulder.]

I was home? I was-- I've been. Under the bed? I think. I think I've been sleeping under a bed. Because-- because he liked to watch me sleep and I couldn't-- I can't do that again.

I feel it too. The touching? Grabbing. Shoving. Mike keeps-- It keeps wanting something. I. My attention, maybe. Or. I don't know. Maybe something more. I haven't seen them though. Alice or Julia.

Under the bed? I. I didn't look. I couldn't find you. I thought maybe you just. You left? Because I'm. Well. I guess you don't need a reason to leave. I'm. I only made a mess of us.

But I'm not the Monster. I don't-- I don't even know what he's really like. Except when he was in Charlton? But now I now Charlton. I don't know the actual. Um. Whatever he is.

I haven't seen Mike.

[Quentin offers, shaking his head and ignoring, ignoring, ignoring the comments and the calls and the sweet smell of candy.]

He wasn't-- anything like you? Like a child, maybe? But. Angry. So, so angry. Ora, the. She was the one who looked after him? Said he was made of pure want. And he wanted a lot of things.

[He shudders, somewhere between remembering and still hearing that soft and wrong voice in his ear.]

The hands are the worst. But I was there? I had to stay close in case, but also-- I couldn't. I'm sorry that I couldn't--

[Be in bed and wake up with the monster looming over him.]

[ he shakes his head defiantly. ]

No, no. It. It was my own fault? I thought. I.

I let him free. And. I should have listened. I shouldn't have been selfish. I should have j- just. [ let quentin go. quentin was never really his to have anyway. only whenever quentin felt he was enough. ]

The hands are. They come and go. I only feel yours right now.

You didn't know.

[Quentin says a little forcefully before shuddering again.] You didn't want this to happen. What-- uh, what the monster did, isn't on you. Any more than it's on me.

[And there's a high-pitched giggle in his ear, saying I like you like it's a secret.]

I-- they never really go away? Now? It's-- jesus, it's all the time now. It--they never stop?

No. Never. It was never on you-- I got myself into that mess. Got all of us into it. I should have. I should have fought harder. When you told us it was final. [ that he would stay with the monster and that was that. ]

I don't want to make it worse though. I. What should I do? With my hands.

Edited 2019-11-01 05:03 (UTC)

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