Eliot the Spectacular, High King of Fillory (the_spectacular) wrote in helladjacent, @ 2017-04-10 17:12:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !jumps: happiest place on earth, character: castiel, character: eliot waugh |
backdated
Who: Eliot & Castiel
What: Castiel goes to visit his depressed friend
When: During the post zombie fog
Where: Eliot's room
Warnings: Low
Status: Complete
Castiel had no desire to contact Dean when he decided to check in on Eliot. He respected Dean, heck he loved Dean as if he was his own family, but he knew Dean’s agenda was one-sided. And when Dean was so focused he had a hard time seeing another person’s pain. Eliot, Cas thought, had a lot of pain. It really was a draw who had more pain, Eliot, Cas, or Dean. Claire may have them all beat. Regardless, Dean was not the person Eliot needed to have in his presence right now. If Cas happened to learn anything, he would pass it along to the hunter. He thought this was a safe compromise.
Castiel send a message to Eliot on the net:
Eliot,
I’m coming to your room to check on you. I want to make sure you are alright. I also would like to talk to you.
-Castiel
Unlike last time he didn’t wait for a reply before he left for Eliot’s. He jogged up the stairs and turned the corner to Eliot’s room approaching his door frame.
The door was closed but Eliot was at least awake this time to open the door. He’d slept, showered, shaved. The dark curls of his hair were still a little damp. He hadn’t dressed yet, but was more casual - or as casual as Eliot got - in striped pajama pants and a silky dark blue robe that closed at his navel.
Though he thought about not opening the door, Eliot did not especially like being alone. So he put on a forced little smile and tried to hold in his sigh when he said, “Well, I suppose I have you to thank for my lack of hangover.”
“It seemed beneficial to your recovery,” Castiel said, shortly, examining Eliot’s biometrics until he was satisfied with the results.
“I’m glad you are well...physically. I’m sorry I took your means of escape away, but I didn’t wish to see you suffer or perish. I...am aware you didn’t ask me for that service, but as a friend I felt it was necessary for me to step in. If you feel up to talking, I would like to spend some time with you...preferably before the hotel decides to treat us as pawns in a game of life or death again,” Castiel added with a slight roll of his eyes.
“May I enter?” he asked.
With the roll of Castiel’s eyes, Eliot felt his smile become slightly more genuine and opened the door wide for the angel to enter. “What is it you need, angel face?”
Eliot was down to three cigarettes. After casting a small spell to keep the smell from lingering on himself and the room, he lit the cigarette and took his first drag.
“I need to know you’re okay,” Castiel said without preface. He sat down in the same chair he sat in when he first met Eliot.
“I realize the initial answer that that will be no,” he pushed along, bullheaded in his expression of compassion, “But to that I want you to know that you are not alone in this hotel and that I am here if you ever need to talk to your experiences or vent frustrations. I don’t imagine that you will ever stop your form of self-medicating, but it went too far this time. I wish to make sure that does not happen again. I also wish to know exactly what happened during your seizure and what you discovered. Feel free to pour yourself a drink if you feel you need one at this juncture.”
Castiel sat back, a soft scowl on his face. He didn’t know why he was getting ancy or worked up. Was he angry? Why would he be angry? He looked away from Eliot at this point because he wasn’t used to the strength of the feelings of protectiveness he was experiencing.
“I died. What do you want me to say about it? That I’m okay with it?” Eliot shrugged as though it were no big deal. There was, of course, more, but that information was tied to complicated emotions that Eliot didn’t like getting into when he was in the best of moods.
“No,” Castiel demanded. “You should not be okay with seeing or experiencing your own death. No one would have any expectation of that for you. This affects everything about your existence here at the hotel and the chance to go back to your own reality. What concerns me is not your very valid emotions of grief and sadness, but the self-destructive activities that you have taken up in response to those emotions. It does not matter to me that the hotel will bring you back if you kill yourself with drugs and alcohol. But it does sadden me that you feel as if that is your only viable escape route.”
Castiel sighed and shifted in his seat.
“I don’t expect you to care about how the things you do affect my...my well-being. I just want you to know that I am here to be a replacement for the practices you are following that are destroying you. And, if there is a way we can get you back to your world without your death, I will do my best to try and accommodate that option. You don’t leave your family behind,” Castiel said resolutely.
Eliot was quiet.
It took him nearly a minute to process everything that Castiel had said. If he’d been human, this might have been the moment that Eliot threw himself on him in some kind of wild, passionate kiss. He was fairly certain Castiel didn’t quite feel that way about him, as much as Eliot wanted him to.
“That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” he said softly.
Castiel’s eyes took on a sadness.
“I’m sorry. But I understand,” he assured him. Castiel understood finally realizing he was loved and cared for after eons of not receiving those accolades more than anyone.
“I do not expect you to stop your...recreation but...may I request that you try not to kill yourself with those means again?” Castiel asked. The angel didn’t intentionally create a puppy expression with his face, but it was what happened naturally when his eyes became soulful and sincere. If he knew how much it affected people he might try to make the look more often. As of now, though, it was a byproduct of intense feelings of compassion for someone he considered a friend.
“I wasn’t…” Eliot sighed. “I’m not suicidal. If anything I think the last time you healed me, took away some of my tolerance.” He took another drag from the cigarette and exhaled away from the angel. “I just wanted to forget. I don’t want to think about… anything, really.”
Eliot sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. He mumbled his confession into his knees. “I got my wife pregnant.” He raked his fingers through his damp hair and stared at the floor a minute before looking up to Castiel’s face.
“This...causes you so much distress because you will not be there for your child? Or...because you had not prepared to be a father? Because it was unexpected?” Castiel asked. He honestly wasn’t not familiar with the emotions of being a parent, nothing so acutely at least.
“Regardless, it is obviously causing you distress,” Castiel said, as sympathetically as he could.
“Also...I did not intend on lowering your tolerance. I suppose I repaired too much that you had previously destroyed with your recreation. Healing with grace is not a surgical process. It is usually all or nothing,” Castiel said a little guiltily. “It was not my intention to make your next...hedonistic experiment more dangerous.”
Eliot shrugged. He completely dropped the topic of Fen’s pregnancy, possibly because all the options the angel brought up applied. And because Castiel had given him something else to think about and he grasped onto it like a lifeline. “I might have just fucked up. I can get a little carried away and might have been a little overeager to do some drugs. I practically earned it, though.”
It wasn’t like there was anyone eligible in the hotel that Eliot wanted to sleep with. The percentage of straight men was entirely unfair.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Eliot said quietly.
Castiel smiled a little at that last comment.
“I know. I’m glad you let me help. And I’m happy you’re okay,” Castiel said genuinely, “As...okay as you can be. You...cannot control what is happening right now in your reality. But, I am very glad to have met you, here. This place, despite its misgivings, is the only place we have immediate access to. It is the only place we can have an effect. Right now, at least.”
“If we made out right now, I would be very okay. We don’t even have to go past third base.” That is what Eliot had been reduced to. Asking an angel he knew to be uninterested if he would at least be up for some heavy petting. The smile was a sad mix of hopeful and wry, as though he already knew the answer and was at least partially in on the joke.
Castiel eyes went two sizes wider and he stuttered like a lawn mower with an electrical issue. He had not at all been prepared for such a proposition, though he was aware Eliot was naturally a very flirtatious person.
Castiel had had sex a grand total of one time. The result was him being murdered by the person who had seduced him. Though...seduced was an overestimation. As a human male in that position it really hadn’t taken much coaxing. He didn’t know if it would’ve been any different if that proposition had come from a man. It probably wouldn’t have. And perhaps he wouldn’t have been murdered.
It was more than a moment before Cas suspected Eliot was kidding. The angel pulled up one side of his mouth in a nervous smirk.
“Heh...um...I don’t believe you have even asked me for a drink,” he said, nearly butchering the phrase and then, “Uh...actually...you have.” His eyes widened again as the hem of his overcoat suddenly seemed fascinating.
“I’m glad you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” Castiel said, still taken aback a little.
“Actually,” Castiel asked with sudden interest, and extreme desire to change the subject, “I...was wondering if you could help me with a little project. It doesn’t have anything to do with escaping the hotel...but it might be a nice distraction.”
Eliot smiled at Castiel, though the smile did not quite reach his eyes. Eliot was either funny or just a joke and he wasn’t sure the angel would know the difference. At least there was that. “Oh? A distraction, you say? Do tell.”
Castiel didn’t notice the half-hearted smile. He could discuss emotions bluntly and pinpoint severe shifts in mood but subtlety was a sure fire way to escape any inspection from him. He was getting better at detecting things like jokes and melancholy, but it was a hard concept to pin down.
He was happy for the topic change and it showed on his face. He smiled, but also because of what he was about to share. It was almost as if he was proud of himself. He might’ve just been.
“I...believe I might have instigated a battle of trickery with Claire. It was not fully intentional, but I did not readily back away from the challenge to continue. I was hoping you could assist me with some...pranks? I have a loose understanding of the concept of pranking, but have not performed any decent pranking myself,” he thought briefly of how helpful Gabriel would be. But it lowered his mood a little to know he was still dead.
“My first activity was to hide various articles of the clothing she had been leaving on the floor of our room. So far, though it did spark the battle, she has not complained what I think is a suitable amount. I understand that pranks should be an inconvenience, though not one that will ultimately cause a great amount of pain or disease. I wondered if you had some ideas,” Castiel said, giving him a hopeful look.
Eliot’s smile finally reached his eyes.
“Oh god, any physical kid with half a brain could come up with all sorts of things. Clothes that never fit, toilet seats that never go down, showers that spray water anywhere but you…” Eliot said. “But that would clearly be me pranking her. You should let her get in the next prank and retaliate accordingly. Let it be a back and forth unless you’re trying to utterly destroy her.”
It was cute that hiding Claire’s clothing had been a prank. But it seemed incomplete.
“You could write little ransom letters for each missing article of clothing? Something she has to do in order to get them back?” Eliot offered.
“I don’t want to destroy Claire,” Castiel replied with mild shock. Was it possible to destroy someone during a prank war? Was that the general goal? He looked a little uncomfortable at the thought.
“Ransom letters? That seems...complex. She hasn’t seemed to miss the clothes and, really, the hotel will reset everything next week. She also hasn’t outwardly retaliated. But...if she does...you will help me?” Castiel asked, innocence and a sudden awareness of how socially complex a prank war was in his face.
“I’ll help you,” Eliot said with a soft smile. “Let’s give her the next opportunity and see where we go from there.”