deercountry | [closed] back when we were kids

Entry tags:

[closed] back when we were kids

Who: Flynn & Yuri
What: having a much-needed conversation they should have had a while ago
When: February 9th
Where: their house in Crenshaw

Content Warnings: Mentions of sad teen angst and sad teen fights and also maybe day-drinking, who knows what these boys got up to

Flynn leaves camp a little early that day.

His ride with Daisy was enough to clear his head a little, enough to get him through a day of working through strategies with the engineers over in the mechyard, but Flynn knows himself well enough by now to know that he's certainly distracted. His thoughts keep straying to Yuri and the flippancy in his voice, the insistence that he hadn't done anything with that time.

Flynn doesn't know, is the thing. He knows a little of what Yuri was up to in the Lower Quarter, knows about his actions and their consequences and the gossip that had chased after him in their wake (wasn't that your friend, Flynn?; those Lower Quarter brutes just need a firm hand; a hundred other phrases that had burrowed under his skin like termites, that Flynn had gritted his teeth and smiled through). He has no idea what Yuri felt about all those years. He doesn't even know how Yuri feels, really, about—

About everything. The way they left things, what felt like the end of their friendship, the ragged chasm between them that made Flynn question everything that they were. They've built a bridge over all of that, and it feels solid beneath Flynn's feet, but peeking over the edge is a terrifying thing, which of course means that they should probably just jump into it the way brave people do in the face of terror.

The conversation didn't start there, of course. It started somewhere so ridiculous, so—Yuri.

But Flynn is walking into it, bundled up with hearty greens and early potatoes, a few soft onions left over from the year before, and some hard cheese with an interesting profile that Yuri hadn't put on the list but that Flynn figured he might like. He could have used the lamps to come home and been there in an instant, but the walk through the oddly-sunny afternoon, buffeted by cold wind, has been helpful. He lingered a little in the market, talking to the vendors, learning about their business and their worries and the things they wanted changed. Now, with the sun just starting to sink below the jumbled roofs of Crenshaw, he finally shoves open their creaking little gate.

Their tiny patch of front garden is overgrown. Flynn thinks about his promise to Blue to plant seeds there, notes that he needs to get some seeds for them along with oil for the gate, and pushes open the door while Daisy vanishes into smoke and simply reappears on the other side, apparently impatient to get into the warmth.

"It was going to take two seconds," he tells her, grinning, and Daisy simply reappears, much smaller, and trots on delicate hooves into the kitchen to find Repede. Flynn shakes his head and shuts out the cold evening behind.

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...yeah.

[ He says it again, letting his eyes fall shut. He wasn't purposefully keeping it from Flynn, he just didn't want to talk about it. It's painful, terrifying, one of the worst things that's ever happened to him, being surrounded by all that suffering, being unable to do anything, being helpless, being tormented by uncaring, unmovable creatures who used to be people.

He doesn't lean into Flynn, but he stays where he is, and he's glad he's there, that Flynn is there with him. ]

So you... saw all of it.

I did.

[ Yuri deserves to know what playing field they're on, after all: that Flynn saw it, and felt the spike of fear and panic. Yuri had felt so abandoned, left behind in that awful place. He's not wrong. Flynn did leave him. Against his will, but— ]

I didn't know it was that bad.

[ He has an impulse to downplay it, to say it wasn't that bad, but, well. He doesn't have the energy for that right now. Right now, he has to process that Flynn saw it, Flynn was in his dream, Flynn was there, he saw Yuri strapped down, helpless, he saw Yuri overwhelmed by zealots, unable to protect himself.

He feels weak. He feels like he's showing his soft stomach, and can only rely on hope that Flynn won't take that and see him differently, that he won't use this in some horrible way. But this is Flynn. Yuri can't believe that he'll use it against Yuri. He doesn't want to believe that, but that fear is still there. ]

It wasn't great.

[ Flynn doesn't want to push too hard. He doesn't want to send Yuri spinning out to sea, retreating from anything stronger than those three quiet words, but—

But Yuri's been grappling with these memories alone since they happened, and clearly they have him in their grip. Flynn can't let him keep going like that, dragging them behind himself like those corpses in October. ]

It doesn't do any good to wish I'd been with you. I know that. But.... I still wish that I had been. We might have been able to free you, together.

[ His gut reaction isn't a kind one: that Flynn doesn't believe that he can take care of himself, that he's weak without Flynn, that Flynn doesn't think he's strong enough to get himself out of these things alone.

Which, he isn't. He wasn't. He couldn't do it. He had wished, in moments of weakness, that Flynn had been there, even though a greater part of him was glad that Flynn wasn't there. He didn't want Flynn to have to go through that, not if he didn't have to. ]

Yeah, well. You weren't.

[ It's harsh, harsh and he doesn't quite mean it the way it comes out. He doesn't want Flynn to have been there. He really doesn't. But he still hurts, still carries this with him, when he's alone or tired or just lets his mind wander, it's there. ]

[ The hurt radiating from Yuri drives it home. He didn't say those things out loud and Flynn doesn't pick them up in as many words but somehow, some way, Yuri's thoughts are loud enough to drag Flynn right along with him,. Flynn's jaw tightens along with his chest, his ribs digging sudden into his own heart. He stiffens, swallows, looks away into the darkness and the soft outline of their door. ]

I know.

[ An exhale, louder for the silence. Flynn's hand tightens on Yuri's shoulder. Yuri can feel all the guilt balled up in him, sitting tight and heavy in his gut. He'd tried so hard, hadn't slept for days, had ranged into the forest and nearly killed a zealot, and for what? For Yuri to come back on his own, blood-soaked and pale and near-death. ]

I tried to be, but that doesn't matter—Yuri,

[ He has to press on this, can't just let it go. ]

I would never think you were weak for... any of this. You have to know that.

Edited 2022-02-22 19:43 (UTC)

[ Did he know? That Yuri was thinking that? Or does Flynn just know him that well.

But hearing the words out loud doesn't make it better. It almost makes it worse ]

It's not your damn fault.

[ Yuri doesn't like that guilt. He doesn't want Flynn to feel it, not for him. Not for something neither of them could control. And that's the problem, isn't it? They couldn't control it. Couldn't do anything about it.

The next words come out, unbidden, maybe because he's tired, maybe because he trusts Flynn so much ]

I want to stop thinking about it.

[ So he has been thinking about it.

Of course he has, Flynn thinks, and lets out another slow breath, hating how useless he is, how little he can do. He can't fix this: there is nothing he can do to drive the memory from Yuri's head. He can barely get the memory out of his own head, and the space is already crowded with a hundred other things he wishes he could change. Flynn returns to those over and over again, picks apart the threads with his bare fingers and fails to change a damn thing because it's in the past, all of it.

Awful how much the facts of the past can come back to hurt you, over and over, like an arrowhead stuck in the skin. Flynn curls his fingers into Yuri's hair. ]

I've never even heard you talk about it. Yuri, I... couldn't be there then, no matter what I tried, but—I'm here now. You don't have to carry it all alone. I don't want you to have to.

Edited 2022-02-22 20:42 (UTC)

[ Why? Why is Flynn offering this to him? It makes him feel even weaker that he wants it, he wants to share this burden, but he doesn't want to make Flynn carry it for him.

But, he's offering. He's offering, and that voice in Yuri's head, the one that's been so active this month, telling him to trust, trust people, trust Flynn, is there, piping up that if he wants this, and if Flynn is offering, why should he say no? ]

You sure?

[ An opportunity to back out. If Flynn doesn't want to. If he doesn't to had to carry this, because he got out. He got out, he doesn't have to bear this. ]

I'm sure.

[ No hesitation, in feeling or in word. Flynn looks at him in the darkness, at the sleep-soft tousle of his hair and the shadows under his eyes, and squeezes him close for another moment, his chest full of some aching feeling (love. He loves Yuri so much, and he's been carrying this alone for so long, and—) ]

That's what we promised, isn't it? That we'd carry our burdens together.

[ Yuri's never going to get used to that feeling, that feeling of Flynn's love for him. He can question why all he wants, but he can't question that Flynn does love him. He can feel it, he can barely understand it, it's so potent, so present, and it's for him. He doesn't feel worthy of it, of Flynn's love, of Flynn, but Flynn told him straight out that Yuri shouldn't question it. If he trusts Flynn, he has to trust that he knows his feelings, and he loves Yuri.

And he wants to know. He wants to share the burden, he wants to help, and Yuri is just so tired. So tired of carrying it, so tired of the lonely knowledge of what happened to him, and Flynn's fingers are in his hair, and there's love pulsing through their bond, through the touch, and Yuri is weak. He's so weak to this, to the safety and security of Flynn, to the love and care that Flynn offers him. He wants it, so, so much. He wants it and he hasn't let himself have it, and that voice just keeps questions why, why, why. He doesn't have an answer, at least, not a good one. He just knows that he shouldn't take it, that he should leave Flynn for someone better than him, but the weak part of him that loves Flynn just wants that for himself. He wants that, he wants all of it, everything that Flynn will give him.

He takes a shaky breath ]

Okay. Okay, I... [ don't actually know how to say any of this. The memories are so tangled, so strange in his own head, and the dream exacerbated them, stretched them, made them odd and present and horrifying and Flynn saw that, he saw that, he saw Yuri on that table, he saw Yuri trying to save Lysithea, and not being able to, not being able to at all.

His breath hitches and he curls into himself, his face in his hands. ]

[ There is something like helpless fear flooding from Yuri. He hides his face the way Flynn used to when they were children, to shut out the massive world and all the horrors in it they were powerless to stop. That spurred their promise in the first place. Flynn and Yuri both needed an outlet, a plan, to deal with their incandescent rage at the unfairness of the world they were born into.

Flynn remembers that helplessness, that awful fear that nothing would ever change, that they would have to live like this. It's a paralyzing thing. He lets the pad of his thumb drag along Yuri's jutting shoulder, a reminder that he's here. ]

How long after I left did they get you? I saw Lysithea, as well. Was she captured?

[ Questions. He can answer questions. Flynn is being so kind to him, and he can't help but be afraid that he's going to say something that's too far, that's too much. But he has to work through that fear, work through it because he wants this, he wants what Flynn is offering to him. ]

Few hours. I, she... showed up after you were gone. We fought together, she did something, stopped time, we got away. Then she, she left too.

[ He still doesn't remember turning into the beast, he doesn't remember it happening, he doesn't know that's what it was in the dream. He just knows he wanted to tear into those zealots, to kill them, to escape, and they were standing in his way ]

...and so you were left alone to deal with them.

[ Flynn concludes with all of the requisite pain audible in his voice. That Yuri really was abandoned, left to die in that place without the mercy of the moon pulling him free—

It sends anger sparking sharply through Flynn all over again, and his jaw tightens as he twists to look behind them at the sliver of moon hanging low and yellow in the sky. It must be nearly moonset, and dawn not far behind. ]

I... yeah. Maybe.

[ He doesn't know, doesn't remember. He can feel Flynn's anger, and it just makes him more tired than he already is. He pushes his hair back with a sigh. He remembers his own anger, his fear, tearing at those zealots, and can almost feel blood in his mouth.

He looks down at his hands. Hands that have seen so much blood, that have caused so much death. ]

[ Flynn can feel that exhaustion, wonders for a moment if he should just let Yuri get back to sleep, but... he'll just dream about it again, and then again after that. This is clinging to him as much as his own past ever has, and Flynn can do something about that, useless as he was when it actually happened? ]

What then? Is that when you were captured?

...I don't know.

[ It's true. He doesn't remember it, it didn't happen in the dream. He fought those zealots, then he woke up on the table. Minutes, hours, days, he doesn't know how much time he lost ]

What's this for, Flynn? You interrogating me or something?

If I were interrogating you, you'd know.

[ Like Flynn has ever interrogated someone in his life. Like he's any good at it. There is no annoyance here, only sadness and affection and that lingering guilt. ]

I just want to know what happened so you're not carrying it alone.

[ The kindness that Flynn shows him always takes him a bit by surprise. Maybe it was the years when they didn't get along, when they were at each other's throats too often, couldn't see eye-to-eye on anything, but even after traveling the world together, after six months in this place together, three of being closer than they've ever been, it still takes him by surprise.

Flynn is trying to help him. He's trying to help get all of this out of Yuri's head, and Yuri nods slowly. He can do that. He can let go of that part of him that's certain that Flynn doesn't approve of anything he does.

With a heavy sigh, he shifts closer, taking what feels like a risk to let his head fall to Flynn's shoulder, to let Flynn carry some of his weight, literally as well as figuratively. Show Flynn that he trusts him.

He does. He does trust Flynn. He trusts him with everything, everything, but it doesn't mean he isn't scared, an undercurrent in their interactions, in everything they do, that something will be too much, the same fear he felt last week when Flynn asked him about his life, before, his time in the lower quarter. And Flynn stayed, supported him, bonded himself to him.

Why? Why does Flynn put up with this? Why does he want to carry more than he already is? For Yuri? Is it love? The words Flynn murmurs to him when he thinks Yuri is asleep, that settle uncomfortably warm in Yuri's chest. Why can't he accept that Flynn loves him? He loves Flynn, he loves him deeply, truly, loves him and would do anything for him. He would give up his life for Flynn without a second thought. But the other way around, Flynn protecting him, Flynn loving him, Flynn sacrificing for him? Maybe it's because in Yuri's eyes, Flynn is bright, a shining sun, and Yuri is nothing but a shadow, barely anything at all.

What happened to him, it was horrible. It haunts him, that he was so weak, so helpless, that he needed saving. It haunts him still, and he doesn't want anyone else to have to feel that way, never, if he can help it, especially not Flynn.

But Flynn wants to help, wants to hear it, as if that will help and, well. Maybe it will. Maybe it will help. Maybe unearthing it, giving it voice, will untangle it from his heart. ]

Yeah. [ He manages to say it, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of Flynn, familiar and steadying, his body solid and warm ] Yeah, I... I was caught. They put me on that table. They took my blood. I couldn't, couldn't get free. [ His voice catches again, hands fisting in the sheets ] I couldn't get free.

[ There is nothing Flynn can do but listen.

That's what he's offering, isn't it? Listening, taking some of those things into himself: letting Yuri lean warm and heavy on his shoulder and recount those things for Flynn to hear. This close, he can follow that shining, meandering thread of Yuri's thoughts all the way through. That he wants to trust but that he's afraid, that there is still an echo of Flynn's younger, angrier judgment there. Yuri is afraid, it seems, that Flynn will really look at him, that there's something he missed, that he'll turn away, like when he looks at Yuri he sees anything but the most important person in the world.

But he hasn't done a very good job of showing that, has he? He was afraid, too. That Yuri wouldn't want to hold everything that Flynn felt, that the things he felt had no place, that Yuri wanted to tear himself free of everything they built.

How much of this did they get wrong because of all that fear?

It's a question for another day, maybe, because Yuri's leaning on him with a cracking voice and so much fear welling up in him, and Flynn asked him for that. The least he can do is turn his face and press his nose into Yuri's hair and stay there, breathing and solid, here for him, at the very least, right now. ]

I never got a good answer. I don't suppose any answer would have been good enough to justify that, but I—I don't know why I was taken away from it, and you weren't.

[ That's just it, isn't it? The Moon Presence saw something in Flynn worth saving, in Lysithea, that she didn't see in him. The only reason Yuri can think of is that he wasn't good enough to save.

He nods, glad that Flynn isn't pulling away, that he's there with Yuri, that he doesn't feel any repulsion or anger in Flynn in all. Just sadness, a similar exhaustion to Yuri. ]

Got out. Kaeya helped.

...good.

[ At least someone did.

At least Yuri wasn't entirely alone.

It aches, thinking about him in that place. Yuri is so contained, normally, doesn't let his fear show if he can help it. If he was so afraid and exhausted as to be fighting against his bonds like he was—

Well, Flynn felt it, didn't he? He pushes a kiss against Yuri's head, knowing that it's useless, hating that. ]

You shouldn't have been left behind, Yuri.

[ Yuri doesn't have an answer to that. Shouldn't he? Maybe he should. There's still that small part of him that's sure that Sodia was right, that Flynn is better off without him, despite how much Flynn loves him. Maybe because of how much Flynn loves him.

But he isn't strong enough to act on that thought. He isn't strong enough to pull away. He stays here, leaning against Flynn, accepting that kiss because sometimes, in this place, it feels like that's all he has. He has the love of Flynn and his friends. It's the only thing that keeps him tethered, grounded. He has Flynn and Blue and their little house, a life that they've worked so hard to create among all of this, everything happening around them.

Maybe that can be enough. ]

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[closed] back when we were kids

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