[ When Claude shakes his head, Anakin frowns. The frown deepens considerably as he holds up his hand, the gesture as much of a refusal as any of the words that follow, softly spoken, earnestly put. He stares at the other man, his lips thinning dangerously. The words filter through his mind like oil sticking to fractures in the earth; for a long moment, all he feels is anger. Things need to change, says Claude, and then he says, if and the word reverberates within his mind, hanging there, isolated. If we're going to. If you really want. Posing underlying questions where no questions ought to be except he knew, didn't he, he knew from the beginning that he might just lose him, the way he's already lost everything and everyone else.
Then, with a sickly shot of fear rushing up his spine, he sees his eyes flashing yellow, reflected on the wall opposite. He blinks and straightens up, gaze flicking away fast, fists clenching in his lap. If you really want to be near me, he says.
Claude has the right to ask questions.
Claude has the right to ask questions.
Claude has the right.
Breathing slowly, as evenly as his chest will allow, he finally clears his throat. ]
I...
[ Pause. He's having to force the words from his throat, something within constricted and tense, painfully so. You might die and I won't be there. I might lose you twice. And those are indeed the rules, says Claude, and he's right. They won't be safe anywhere, neither of them, for a long, long time to come. ]
I'm worried about you. And you are worried about me, too.
[ He takes another deep breath. His eyes flash yellow again, cold and dangerous. His next words are harder than he intends, his voice too clipped for what he's actually saying - what he's asking: ]
[ It grows cold around him, he feels that. Through the fabric of his trousers and his shirt, he feels the chill of the air, like something's freezing inside the molecules themselves. Claude frowns right back at Anakin, Anakin whose eyes flicker between yellow and blue, and honestly, Claude would be afraid for himself, if he wasn't so kriffing busy being worried about Anakin, worried that he might hurt himself, hurt others and thereby himself, worried that he'll lose hold of himself again and turn into something unrecognisable. Claude just found him! Claude just got him back. Please don't... please...
Tell me how you live with that, Anakin wants to know and Claude feels his lips tighten in a thin line for a moment. He asks himself the same thing a lot, like, a lot. And he hasn't found the answer to all of it yet, so what's he supposed to tell Anakin now?
The truth, because the truth is all they have left between them and that's what they got to build upon.
So, slowly, his hand still hanging a bit uselessly in the air, reaches out and flattens against an invisible wall between them, fingers lightly bent, the way they didn't but did touch back then, across clicks and circumstances.
Touch me, it means, the best we can. ]
I can't give you the perfect answer. I don't think it exists, it's different for everyone.
[ And while he waits for Anakin to accept or refuse his held-out hand, Claude takes a moment to think it over in his mind. He has priorities and those are in and by themselves prioritized a certain way, he's learned to move his focus around, to the back and to the forefront. It keeps him from obsessing. If not from getting gnawed at by his own worry. It's a matter of acceptance. ]
I accept that I can't rule over my fear and neither can I always rule over the circumstances that are giving me those fears. Fear is a natural response to situations that are difficult to exist within. Fear isn't dangerous in itself. [ A pause. ] But at some point, I have to move my focus away from my fears, you know? Because if I want things to progress, I need to take care of myself, or I'll never be able to be something for you on the other side of it. [ Pause. ] And that you might not be there when that time comes...
[ A pause again, longer. Claude licks his lips. ]
By choosing to love you, I choose to run that risk. You know about risks, Anakin. Some of them, the possible success of it weighs more heavily than the possibility of failure. Right?
[ He can feel the change in the air around him, the familiar coldness, ice to counteract the constant, underlying remembrance of fire. He sits very still, looking on as Claude raises his hand and holds it up and remembers many, many months ago, sitting in the Temple in the same way with his body aching in the best of ways, reaching back. This existence, he thinks, is an otherworld of that - it's cold, hard, and there is no underlying promise of proximity, not for a while. His stomach clenches painfully.
Fear is a natural response says Claude and that's something Anakin used to know as well, before he came to Coruscant and was taught about the dangers associated with it. Before that, fear had been a way to exist in a dangerous world and being afraid, as a slave, was wise. Alertness. The knowledge of consequences along with the possible gravity of them. Slowly, as Claude talks on, Anakin unclenches his metal fingers, his right upperarm trembling minutely at the strain. Then, he reaches out across the flickering blue hololight and entwines their fingers the best he can. It feels like nothing.
It is everything. ]
Right.
[ He's used to fixing things. It's all he's ever been good at, helping people, removing whichever obstacle's in their way to let them pass. Then, for the past two years, he's done the same for his Master, though it's felt like a mockery of what it used to. I can't rule over my fear says Claude and that's wise of him. That's one of the wisest things he's heard in a long, long while.
Anakin, however, must learn to rule over his, rather than trying to clear the path in front of it. It's an old, ingrained habit, something that says, be of use, be of use, be of use, no matter what it costs you.
He sighs. The tension bleeds from his shoulders. ]
Then, I will move my focus as well. [ He looks directly at Claude, gaze firm, despite the ache in his chest and the wetness rising in his eyes. ] To meet you on the other side.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Then, with a sickly shot of fear rushing up his spine, he sees his eyes flashing yellow, reflected on the wall opposite. He blinks and straightens up, gaze flicking away fast, fists clenching in his lap. If you really want to be near me, he says.
Claude has the right to ask questions.
Claude has the right to ask questions.
Claude has the right.
Breathing slowly, as evenly as his chest will allow, he finally clears his throat. ]
I...
[ Pause. He's having to force the words from his throat, something within constricted and tense, painfully so. You might die and I won't be there. I might lose you twice. And those are indeed the rules, says Claude, and he's right. They won't be safe anywhere, neither of them, for a long, long time to come. ]
I'm worried about you. And you are worried about me, too.
[ He takes another deep breath. His eyes flash yellow again, cold and dangerous. His next words are harder than he intends, his voice too clipped for what he's actually saying - what he's asking: ]
Tell me how you live with that.
no subject
Tell me how you live with that, Anakin wants to know and Claude feels his lips tighten in a thin line for a moment. He asks himself the same thing a lot, like, a lot. And he hasn't found the answer to all of it yet, so what's he supposed to tell Anakin now?
The truth, because the truth is all they have left between them and that's what they got to build upon.
So, slowly, his hand still hanging a bit uselessly in the air, reaches out and flattens against an invisible wall between them, fingers lightly bent, the way they didn't but did touch back then, across clicks and circumstances.
Touch me, it means, the best we can. ]
I can't give you the perfect answer. I don't think it exists, it's different for everyone.
[ And while he waits for Anakin to accept or refuse his held-out hand, Claude takes a moment to think it over in his mind. He has priorities and those are in and by themselves prioritized a certain way, he's learned to move his focus around, to the back and to the forefront. It keeps him from obsessing. If not from getting gnawed at by his own worry. It's a matter of acceptance. ]
I accept that I can't rule over my fear and neither can I always rule over the circumstances that are giving me those fears. Fear is a natural response to situations that are difficult to exist within. Fear isn't dangerous in itself. [ A pause. ] But at some point, I have to move my focus away from my fears, you know? Because if I want things to progress, I need to take care of myself, or I'll never be able to be something for you on the other side of it. [ Pause. ] And that you might not be there when that time comes...
[ A pause again, longer. Claude licks his lips. ]
By choosing to love you, I choose to run that risk. You know about risks, Anakin. Some of them, the possible success of it weighs more heavily than the possibility of failure. Right?
no subject
Fear is a natural response says Claude and that's something Anakin used to know as well, before he came to Coruscant and was taught about the dangers associated with it. Before that, fear had been a way to exist in a dangerous world and being afraid, as a slave, was wise. Alertness. The knowledge of consequences along with the possible gravity of them. Slowly, as Claude talks on, Anakin unclenches his metal fingers, his right upperarm trembling minutely at the strain. Then, he reaches out across the flickering blue hololight and entwines their fingers the best he can. It feels like nothing.
It is everything. ]
Right.
[ He's used to fixing things. It's all he's ever been good at, helping people, removing whichever obstacle's in their way to let them pass. Then, for the past two years, he's done the same for his Master, though it's felt like a mockery of what it used to. I can't rule over my fear says Claude and that's wise of him. That's one of the wisest things he's heard in a long, long while.
Anakin, however, must learn to rule over his, rather than trying to clear the path in front of it. It's an old, ingrained habit, something that says, be of use, be of use, be of use, no matter what it costs you.
He sighs. The tension bleeds from his shoulders. ]
Then, I will move my focus as well. [ He looks directly at Claude, gaze firm, despite the ache in his chest and the wetness rising in his eyes. ] To meet you on the other side.