Monday January 12th 2009
Who: Blake and Godric What: Blake has made a slight error in judgement When: Evening Where: The BGH Rating: PG 13
In the darkness of his apartment Blake gently infused the bubbling beaker in front of him with a sprig of heather, making the heated liquid purple. It had been a productive evening, in the plight to get this block from his head. Penny had helped immensely, giving him some old spells, but they hadn’t been completely what he wanted and so the witch had taken to amending the texts and structure of the spells with bits from his own investigations. It had resulted in this - the concoction before him. Brewed for nine hours it was almost ready. He merely had to say the incantation, down the liquid, and then feel the wall come down...
It was odd. Everything he did or didn’t feel was making him half the man he was meant to be and though he risked destroying everything he’d worked towards (he had mastered his powers, he was balanced, he was rational!) there was something to be said for not knowing who he was. Like a gaping hole in his head making him no use to anyone. And the rush of sadness but immense joy that had come at reading everything Ric had written.... It was like he’d been shown a glimpse of what being awake was like.
He had to do it. And so as soon as the liquid congealed he murmured the words that would instantly cool it, the flames dying. A deep breath was taken and Blake reached out to lift it from its case. It was now or never. He trusted himself enough to think he’d got it right. A frown creased his brow.
“To me.”
The contents were tipped down his throat and he swallowed, grimacing. It tasted like soil, burning rubber and lavender had been mixed with custard. Almost choking he forced it down, gasping before he said the further words to begin the spell. He felt his chest flutter, and a tingle rise to his head. And then there was immense, blinding pain which shot through his spine and nestled in the base of his neck. Though his eyes felt like they were bleeding bright light shot from the iris and smashed a vase on the opposite side of the room.
His body convulsed. He then thought he passed out. All through this he didn’t realise that he was crawling closer to the door, fumbling for his keys, driven by the instinct to get to Ric. If anything he had to get to Ric. He would be safe there. Ric was safe.
He didn’t know how but he managed to drive without accident to the house, the car lurching forward as it came to a stop. A few narrow misses to the front steps he finally parked, tumbling sideways out of the car door into one of the plants. He would feel the sting of thorns later, but for now he crawled up the front steps and struggled to his feet in the hope that he wouldn’t need to knock..
-----
After a nice, relaxing weekend, it felt nice to be home again. And Godric was even more pleased that Wesley seemed a little calmer as well. Everything seemed to be falling well into place, and for that the vampire was grateful. Blake had even been over a few times the previous week, and even though it had been a little odd keeping the secret of his tryst with Ava from the demon, things had gone well between himself and his friend. It was getting easier to be around him. The more Blake looked into curing his mental block, the more like himself he seemed to become. Perhaps all he'd really needed was a project.
Sitting in his study, reading, Godric heard an odd commotion on the road and looked up from the book, brow furrowed. It wasn't often that people drove down this road at night, and those that did often went slowly because it was dark and the road was narrow. But this car, whoever it was, seemed to be a drunk driver. Looking out his window, the vampire watched the vehicle swerve a few times, barely staying on the road. Well that was just fantastic. Godric checked the plate numbers, preparing to make a call to the police department, when his chest suddenly tightened. That was Blake's car. And it was headed for the house.
Dropping his book, Godric dashed from the study, tearing down the back stairs and across the kitchen out the front, leaving every door in his wake wide open. To say that Blake did not look good was a vast understatement. He looked... well it was hard to say. Actually, it was easy to say, and hard to think about. He looked newly turned- in pain, pale as anything, unfocused and breathing heavily. Kneeling down, Godric scooped Blake up into his arms, carrying him into the house and trying to remain as calm as possible. Surely, there was some kind of explaination for this, and when Blake was able to talk, he would tell it.
---
Oh thank Godric. Leaning against the vampire Blake could do nothing but allow himself to be scooped up and hauled into the house. Feeling nothing but relieved Blake looked up at the expression on Ric’s face - unreadable but Blake knew. He blinked, foggy, some purple liquid dribbling from the corners of his eyes.
“I think I did something wrong,” he croaked, noticing how his voice didn’t sound like his, far away almost like someone else was speaking the words he wanted to say in another room. Needing some form of comfort the demon rest his head, almost nuzzled instinctively beneath the vampire’s chin even if it was so he didn’t fall back and crack his neck. “Very wrong....”
---
To say that Blake had done something wrong was to say the very, very least. He had purple leaking from his eyes, for fuck's sake. "Hush," Godric instructed gruffly, the curtness of his tone covering up for the panic rising in his chest. If this was a magic problem, then a healer would do no good for Blake. It would either run its course, or kill him.
Blake was taken to the master bedroom, laid out on the bed and propped up amongst the dozen and a half pillows the demon himself had picked out for the decor. Godric had usually rolled his eyes at him for it, though not today. Today they served a rare purpose. Kneeling on the bed, Godric checked the man's vitals, his cool hands thorough and quick over Blake's skin. His pulse was racing madly, his skin clammy and somehow hot and cold simultaneously, And his eyes... he looked so far gone, they were milky but bright, the irises bright and glowing but the pupils dark like black holes. "Jesus," he murmured, "what happened?"
---
Pillows were nice and comfortable and as Blake was pushed back against them he sighed, feeling his limbs soften. His vision was foggy and he couldn’t really focus but every time he saw Ric he desperately tried to catch a hold on him, see him properly. It was very frustrating. Instead he reached out a hand to try and limply stroke down the vampire’s arm, just to show he needed him and appreciated this moment.
The question made him laugh, airily and almost like he was giddy before he coughed and then made a sickly expression. “I tried. I failed. At least I think I failed - is this what he does to you? Never going to him again, get the sock out of the airing cupboard will you Amandine?.... no, you’re not Amandine.... I’m sorry, Edie.... FUCK...” Annoyed, Blake smacked himself on the head and ran his hand down his face. “Stop it.”
---
Simply saying 'I failed' was not really a good explaination, because that part had been obvious. Godric assumed that Blake's intention had not been to wreck himself quite this way. Opening his mouth to protest, the vampire's words paused, as Blake continued babbling on about something he didn't understand. Who would he never go to again? The shaman? And what about a sock, and an airing cupboard...? It wasn't until Blake corrected himself, saying Edie insted of Amandine, that Godric understood. His mind was leaking, memories and present moment getting mixed in together, so Blake thought he was in the past but ultimately knew he was in the present. He seemed to know that he was not addressing the right person, but who the right person was, he couldn't seem to pinpoint.
"Blake," Godric said sternly, taking the man's face in his hands. "It's Ric. You're in my house, you drove here, which was a damn fool thing to do. You're lying in a bed." After a pause, a hesitation, he added, "This is the bed where you used to sleep, when you lived here. You were alone most nights, but that's not really important. The bedspread is blue, and there are gold... whatever things... shapes all on it, and a hundred throw pillows that are entirely unnecessary. Try and remember that, try and focus on that, on here. Can you do that for me?" Maybe if Blake could keep his mind in one spot, and just stay focused on the present, the magic could run its course and he would see himself through to the other side. Maybe he would be all right.
---
It was annoying, to have all these images swirling in his head intermixed with Ric who was standing before him, which was who he really wanted to focus on. He wanted to tell him what had happened but couldn’t seem to stop saying everything that was coming to mind instead. “Arthur I can’t, please don’t ask me to...” he whined, seeming quite upset that he couldn’t do what he wanted which was to explain everything but he was quietened by his face being taken into Ric’s hands. He stilled, putting his palms on Godric’s wrists as if he wanted to keep them there.
With great effort and a few slipping groans of pain he stared up at the vampire, into those eyes, and listened to what he said. The bed felt familiar, so did the room. It smelt good. Or maybe that was just Ric. Either way Blake found himself calming enough to breathe normally and he spewed less nonsense. He knew he’d driven here, and he knew that Godric had whisked him in the moment he’d seen the pathetic mess on his front porch. But ever since he’d laid on the bed and relaxed everything had come forward in his head and....
“I’m home...?” The throw pillows, bedspread, decorations in this room as well as Ric’s presence were all indications that this was the house outside of school, the one he had helped decorate. Somewhere his mind recognised it as home. The part that had been asleep. As that half came to terms with his surroundings, the other more awake side of him realised what had just happened. After a few seconds Blake licked his lips and attempted explaining. “I tried - a spell. I drank some liquid. My head exploded. At least I think it did.”
---
The shift in Blake was almost tangible, the way his body calmed, how his skin temperature seemed to level itself, his heartbeat slowing to a quick patter. He had needed to focus on something, not let the everything of his brain consume him and make him lost. And if Godric could do anything, it was make someone focus.
With a small sigh, and a nod, Godric began piecing together what had happened. Blake had tested some new spell to undo the mental block in his head, and it had not gone well. And so, in a panic, as his mind switched back and forth from present to past, he sought out a place of comfort and safety- Godric's house. So he was here now, though surely Blake did not have any plans aside from getting here. The problem was, Godric did not have any ideas either. Nobody in the house worked with magic like this, and even if they did nobody knew what Blake had done to himself. Blake didn't even seem to know. But the vampire knew he needed to do something.
"I see," he said simply, letting his hands fall from Blake's face to the pillow. "You realize how stupid that was, doing something experimental without knowing the possible effects of it? And doing it alone, as well? Also, you should have stayed on campus and gone to the infirmary, someone might have been able to help you there, or perhaps could have called someone who would have any clue what you've done to yourself and perhaps could actually help you instead of sitting here and lecturing you like it will do any damn good because I know you'd do it again in a heartbeat." Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair, looking down at Blake. "How do you feel?"
---
Through everything that Godric said Blake was able to concentrate on it, observe and maintain this calm that the vampire seemed to give to him. Without it he’d continue to completely go overboard, at the infirmary, with other witches, he just wouldn’t be any use at all let alone co-operative. It was better that he was here. And so as Godric went on a ranting spree Blake found the corners of his mouth turning up into a small smirk.
“Like a barn door.” Was his answer. Though he realised that made no sense and continued with. “Muggy. Better. My head hurts. You’re pretty,” he added, then coughed up some bright light and groaned as he turned his head to one side. “I’ll be fine. I don’t need anyone to help me maybe it’ll just go away and succeed in the first place. Maybe I’ll go there, and see her, and she’ll say that she loves me, because I bought her that baguette the other day.... fuck that was when I was 18 shut me up Godric...”
----
At the very least, Blake was making coherent sentences, even if they were peppered with nonsense. It seemed promising, though Godric did not know if it was. He didn't know a great deal about witchcraft, because he wasn't one and whatever he learned would be theoretical only. Though maybe now he had found a new subject to study.
"Shut up," he said simply, as requested. He needed to think, to decide on what to do. Blake needed to do something. He was coughing up light for goodness sake, that was definitely not normal. The only time Godric had ever seen anything like that was in the parking lot, outside the apartment building where Hope and Blake had lived together. When they had intended to say goodbye, and Blake's energies overloaded and he'd drained all of it into Godric, and for one moment the vampire's heart had started beating again. Well... that was something to focus on. "Because you cannot talk without spewing nonsense," Godric began, as though Blake's nonsensical spewings bothered him, "you will just have to listen while I speak. I am going to tell you a story about us, something very important in our history together. I feel it is very telling as to how you and I worked, and perhaps... perhaps it might help you focus and lend you insight into what you're killing yourself over to recall." Sitting himself on the bed beside Blake, Godric paused a moment to recall the details in his own brain, and after a second's hesitation, took one of Blake's hands in his own. "I had dumped you," he started, with a small smile. "That was how it began. I broke up with you because... well, because it was about compromise. And whether or not I had been doing it. We'd fought, I'd been drinking, and I was tired of feeling guilty and you just had no idea how much my life had changed for you and it just... well I've never been good with expressing emotion..."
---
As soon as Godric told him to shut up Blake blinked and then coughed again, though the light was dimmer. His breathing was coming much easier than normal and as he blinked up at the vampire as he started to speak. It was like a calming spell of its own, soft and soothing. The hand helped also and he linked his fingers in with the vampire’s.
Listening was a good thing apparently. As Godric spoke the images and memories came to him like a stream of consciousness, flowing through his mind and reminding him of that night. The visual imagery was striking like it was happening right then and there. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was but he knew that it was just the memory bursting through the break in the wall that the spell had helped splinter. He remembered being dumped and the crushing wrecking ball to the chest that had caused. He remembered stumbling out to the car park near his apartment to meet him... even before Godric had mentioned that. Despite his original worries he didn’t react in the burst of emotional energy that he’d feared.
“I remember that...”
----
It was very strange, retelling a story to Blake that, until Peru, Blake would have remembered all too well. It was stranger still to be revealing details and emotions that Godric had not wanted to reveal to Blake. But it needed to be done, and because it needed to be done, Godric continued talking, even though it would have benefitted him wholly to leave out quite a few details, to paint the story as he wanted it seen. But he wouldn't, and couldn't, do that to Blake. He cared too much about the man to feed him false memory.
"Do you?" he asked softly, with the faintest hint of a smile. He had a feeling, just the way Blake shifted as he spoke, that the demon was recalling the finer details. He seemed to calm, he hummed slightly at certain parts (like when Godric recalled that Blake had looked ready to fall on his arse the moment their eyes met), and his hand squeezed sometimes, just slightly, as Godric spoke of his own emotion. It was almost as though, unconsciously, he was bringing comfort to Godric. "Then, tell me... how did it end?" Perhaps now that Blake was focused, he could speak, and think, without other thoughts leaking in.
---
His mouth was dry and he continued to remember, thinking through that night and grasping hold of whatever he might be able to recall without being prompted. It was clear as day. Or in the context of the scene, night. Falling to his knees, Ric being infront of him... violet tears fell from Blake’s eyes as he sniffed, feeling more of this wall of mush crumbling away.
“I placed my hand upon your heart - and it started beating,” he said softly. “I poured everything inside you, all my energy, and it was thumping...” Blake’s mouth turned into a smile. “I hoped you were alive, but of course I didn’t... really believe it. I just wanted to keep feeling it, through my fingers. I made your heart beat. And I loved it.”
----
So far, it was going fairly well. Blake was focused on only the one memory. Godric could tell because he was crying, and this was the sort of memory, the kind of moment that someone like Blake could not recall and not get choked up over. It was comforting, for once, to see tears in the demon's eyes. Even if they were purple. "It hurt," Godric admittedly softly, as Blake paused to sniffle some. "I hadn't felt my heart move in over a hundred years, and feeling it beat was painful, in a way. It might have been just leftover from having your energy coursing through me, but I remember... I felt my chest moving. It shocked me, that it could do that again, and in that moment, I thought..." He paused for a moment, debating a moment.
"I thought it was very telling that you, of all people, had started my heart beating again after all those years, because in a way... you'd already done it once before."
---
Though he didn’t want to, Blake closed his eyes. It cut off the sight of Ric smiling, it cut off the room but it also enabled him to conceal the amount of feeling that was surging inside of him. He was managing to control it but he could feel it changing through him. Memories and spits and spots, things he recognised from reading Ric’s journals were spreading through of their own free will, striding into his memory announcing it with a big ‘I’m here!’.
The time where Ric was so grateful that Blake had suffered through his mother’s interrogations and his step-father’s disapproval. Peyton being adopted. The news of Hope being turned... finally he opened his eyes. “I think... I remember... I think so...”
----
The pause that Blake took seemed to be the longest in eternity, and if Godric had been breathing, he would have held a breath throughout the duration. When Blake did finally speak, his meaning was unclear for a moment, and the vampire's brow furrowed. Did he mean he remembered that evening, the moment? Did he remember more, such as the entire month? Their entire beginning? Or did it go further than that?
"Remember what?" Godric asked breathlessly, almost afraid of the answer. If Blake knew all, if whatever he had done to himself had actually worked... Godric sat up slightly, looking over Blake's form. If Blake remembered everything, then things between them were bound to change. It couldn't be helped. But would it be for the better, or worse?
---
After a moment Blake recognised the expression on Godric’s face. It was concern, and not just because he wasn’t sure what Blake’s condition was. The demon’s face softened and smiled as he chuckled, then coughed once again. Laughing was bad, apparently. As the fog on this memory lifted he settled back, blinking.
“That night. Don’t worry, other things are vague at best. The night you told me about Hope is the next thing that’s swimming in my head but just because the two memories are related somehow? I don’t...” Again with the coughing. He tried to sit up. “Bloody hell, Edie, stop sitting there like I’m a cripple....” Oh lovely. “I mean... wrong place - wrong person - fuck, Ric, it’s you. It’s always been you. You remember me telling you that? Maybe I should lie down again...”
----
“Shh, shh,” the vampire murmured softly, putting his fingertips to Blake’s lips. “Don't try sitting up, don't move just... just rest there." He couldn't assure Blake that he wasn't worried, because he was, very much so. There had been a kind of comfort in being the only one of them knowing what had transpired between them. It was as though Godric could protect Blake from being hurt, like he could hold onto the secrets of their past and stop them from repeating. Now, with Blake regaining memory, it was only a matter of time before the man knew everything, and remembered everything, and perhaps the old emotions would return.
"You should sleep." The decision was made with Godric's usual finality, as he drew away from Blake and got to his feet. "You will stay here tonight of course. I will send Wesley in in a while to check up on you, make sure that your physical being is still well." He was pulling away, as he usually did when things became too intimate, when he needed to close himself off to reign in his emotions. Blake was too good at pulling loose the rope that held Godric together.
---
Blake knew what Godric was doing because he always did it. Emotions were getting higher and the moment was intimate. Now that Godric knew that Blake would not be fainting at the merest drop of a hat he was backing away because he felt it best. It was punishment or something for himself because he had hurt the demon in the past and yadda yadda... as Blake was shushed he frowned, hands on his chest . “I don’t know how stable I am,” he confessed softly, looking seriously at the vampire. “I don’t know how long cohesiveness lasts. I’m not sure if I can even sleep, because....” He wouldn’t say it. But there was a fear he’d had during the war that if he fell asleep in the trenches, he wouldn’t wake up. This was not a warzone but his head was. It held similar weight. “I just want you to know that I did this for me. Not for you. I know you’d rather have me floating along as if you never existed but I can’t do that. Not only do I refuse but I don’t function without you. Clearly.” A deep breath was taken and sighed it out. “Whatever happens - “ He wasn’t really sure what he could say that wouldn’t either send Godric away, or sum up everything he wanted to say, so his mouth remained open, stalling until he could think of it.
---
There was nothing that needed to be said, or explained, because Godric knew it already. He knew Blake's reasons, his needs, he knew Blake more than he ever thought he'd be able to understand another person. "I know," he said softly, before Blake needed to think of anything to say. "I know why you did this, and I know..." He looked down at his fidgeting hands, sighing softly. "I know you. As much as I may claim that I cannot understand you, and I really don't... nothing you do surprises me. I know why you act, and when you'll do it, I know every emotion and thought behind every action, even if I cannot understand the reasoning for them. I know how much it means to you to have this, to feel complete. And I know that I am a part of that... even if... I don't wish to be." The last of it was mumbled, partly because it was a realization Godric did not want to have and partly because it was something he wasn't sure he truly wanted to say.
---
Something must have triggered something else because as soon as Godric said those words more tears, lilac in colour, threatened to fall down his cheeks and for the most part they succeeded. However as he managed to reign it in he felt angered and that was never good. DIsappointed, fine, but anything else was dangerous. “Then you won’t be.” Blake sat up in a fluid motion and he turned his legs out of bed, wobbling as he tried to gain balance. “I’m not burdening you with me if you want nothing to do with me, so I’ll just... find a hospital or find... the infirmary...” Why was the room spinning? How dare it. He stood, awkwardly, then sat back down. “You encouraged this, and now you don’t want this, and I told mother that I’d be home in time for Amandine’s birthday and I will be, despite whatever stupid trains you people decide to put on now!”
---
The way Blake reacted, how Godric's words did not come out right, or at least not how they were truly meant, and it cut the demon to the core so thoroughly... it was all so familiar. Godric might have started laughing if Blake had not made an effort to leave the room. That was certainly not happening. He was in no position to go anywhere, at least not alone.
"Blake William Elliot you will not get up from that bed!" Godric snapped, his stern voice filling the room. "You will kick off your shoes, and you will get beneath those covers and you will rest yourself!" Whether or not Godric wanted this, or whether or not Blake was offended by whether or not Godric wanted this, or whether he had brought this upon himself or not, none of it was relevant right now. What mattered was that Blake needed to stay put, and focus, and get some rest before his mind imploded on itself. ---
Despite his indignant behaviour Blake stopped and looked up at Godric, frowning. He didn’t move though. Instead his glare intensified as he kicked off his shoes, one by one, and swung his legs back on to the bed but he didn’t lie down. Nor did he get beneath the covers. “I’m resting,” he said, very childlike. If he’d folded his arms and pouted it wouldn’t seem out of place. “I’m asleep. You may go now.”
---
"Honestly," Godric scoffed, rolling his eyes. "You're such a child." With a small, irritated sigh, Godric put a hand on Blake's chest and pushed him backward, grabbing the blankets and tugging and shifting the skinny little irritant until he was properly covered, against the pillows and in a position to fall asleep. "You are just about as ridiculous as any grown man can get," he groused as he worked, tucking and moving and propping as need be. "Are you quite sure you are ninety, and not simply nine?"
---
Blake allowed Godric to fuss over him simply because he knew he wouldn’t have any choice. As soon as he was lying back against the pillows Blake stared at Ric with a very poignant stare before he grinned, slowly. “I’m only as young as the woman - or man - I feel. And since I’m not feeling either I shall act my shoe size.”
---
With a frown, Godric snorted derisively. "I'm certain your shoe size is bigger than nine," he said shortly, crossing his arms over his chest. Now he was settled, in bed, and he wouldn't be going anywhere, Godric supposed that he could be left to his own devices. Not that the vampire planned on going very far from this room, just in case something happened in the night. "I'll bring you some tea," he said, quieter and less annoyed this time, and headed for the door.
---
“It’s eleven.” Blake felt tired now so he couldn’t really bite back as much as he wanted to. With his eyes closing he took a sigh, nodding as Godric said he would be getting tea. That would probably be very nice. Soothing. The tanning in the tea would go some way towards mending his mind, maybe... he was dozing before Godric had left the room, mind filled with scents and feelings he wasn’t familiar with. Penny would kill him, probably, when she found out. And Godric would allow it.