WHAT. Comforting each other before Del goes through the portal WHERE. their apartment WHEN. January 24th WARNINGS. None that I can think of STATUS. Complete
Cayden very rarely let himself fall victim to fear. Showing fear in Faerie was to show weakness and someone in Cayden's position had not had the liberty of weakness. Certainly not of showing it. But there was no denying it right now; Cayden was afraid. Eli and many other Outlanders had been stolen away and now the plan was to go after them. Of course, Del would go. There was no one better to go and bring Eliphas home.
Cayden wanted to go with him. He felt almost manic with the need. He would have been pacing right now if it weren't for the damned centaur cold. Of all the things for a Spring Court prince to be susceptible to, of all the illnesses that rolled right off a fae's back, it had to be a centaur cold that brought him low. He coughed violently under the pile of blankets in the middle of the bed and groaned at how much it ached through his whole body.
"There is still time to find a centaur shaman. These bugs might be pests that stand up well to healing efforts, but they are not unbeatable." His voice sounded ravaged and ancient. He grimaced and swallowed painfully.
"I almost believed you, but no," Del said, finally stopping his pacing. He had been grinding a well-worn path into the floor—but what part of the apartment they all shared didn't have some space that Del had unintentionally destroyed with his pacing? "Even if you weren't sick," which Del frowned at considerably, "I wouldn't have let you go anyway. It's not safe for you."
It wasn't safe for any of them, but Del had become extremely irrational since Eli had disappeared along with the other Outlanders. Every sensible nerve in his body had been wracked immediately with fear and emotional agony, like pressing on an old wound or opening up every compartmentalized memory he had of Cayden and Eli, and feeling that adrenaline of no, not again pump through his veins. The fact that he was still here and being logical by waiting for the rest of the group to gather their information for the best successful attempt at getting them back was a statement to his self-preservation and his centuries-sculpted patience.
But it was quickly fading the longer he waited. And then he had to consider the fact that he would be leaving Cayden behind, which did nothing to make him feel better about his choices. But Del had made plenty of hard choices before. This was one he had to make for the two of them that were left.
He was by Cayden's side in an instant though, urging him to sit up so that he would drink water. "I need you to be here when we come back. I can't, I can't—" Del shook his head, unable to finish the sentence. "There is no time, and you know it."
"It is…not safe…for me anywhere," Cayden said between coughs. He managed to take a sip of the offered water before he slumped to the side. "And you are not the boss of me."
He was well aware he sounded petulant. But he'd been ill twice while in the mortal world for such a short time and and not once in the seventy some odd years that came before it, so he was not dealing with it very well. It was a terrible time to be at his worst. Eli needed them. Cayden closed his eyes and exhaled angrily.
"You have to swear you will both come back to me," he whispered. "I know it is not really in your control but you must do it anyway, Mnestaes."
"At this moment in time, I am definitely the boss of you," Del said softly. His hands were on Cayden's back, his neck, all comforting soothing touches. It probably didn't help Cayden's fever that Del ran equally warm, when really what Cayden needed was a cold compress and an antidote. Del would make sure someone saw to him before he left, even if it pained him to do so. He wished he could split himself in two, be everywhere and be everything to the both of them at once. But he was a dragon—no, less so now. It was impossible, and he hated it.
But between his own frustration, he could feel Cayden's too, wedging unpleasantly in his chest. There were bitter feelings of futileness of the plan and the unknown of what lay on the other side of the portal. Either they were becoming more in tune with one another now that the truth was out there, or that Eli's gaping absence between them was filled with their own attempts at magical empathy. Del had never been so aware of Eli's kindness of pulling their emotions away until Del was forced to deal with it without him.
He exhaled angrily with Cayden. "There is no option that includes coming back without him. And all of them include coming back to you. It's non-negotiable. I won't abandon you again. Not in this life, not when we are finally all together again." He pulled Cayden into him, pressing a fierce kiss to his forehead. "This is not how I want it to be, but this is how it has to be. You're safe here, even if you look fucking miserable with a cold."
Cayden didn't care that Del's hands were hot on his clammy skin. The touch was comforting all the same. He wanted to cling to him. A small selfish part - a very fae part of him - wanted to order Del to stay. He felt terrible for that immediately. The thought of Eli being forever lost was unfathomable.
"Your word is your bond," he mumbled weakly, sagging further into Del's hold. "I will be fucking miserable every second until you are both with me again and it has nothing to do with this stupid sickness." He wasn't sure how much time they had before the mission would kick off. Probably not long. He mustered up enough energy to sit up, though he leaned hard against Del to stay upright. Everything ached but nothing as much as his heart.
"Do you think…our mental connection will stay intact?" Cayden asked. "Maybe I can pass on messages or at least be with you in one way…"
Del had no problem holding Cayden upright. He wanted him to be laying down, resting, doing something that wasn't so stubborn and self-sacrificial—but Del would be a hypocrite if he said it. He was learning to avoid those arguments. Especially when Cayden was in no shape to win them. Or he'd win them on principle because Del would feel horrible about making Cayden angry when he was unwell and give in.
"My word is my bond," Del echoed, as if that was the promise itself. Repeating it into the open where anyone could hear, invisible witnesses to hold Del accountable. But it was such a fae custom, too. Being unable to lie, knowing that everything Cayden spoke was the truth, made spoken words more powerful, full of more promise. He wouldn't break his to Cayden, or he would die trying. As he often did in the lives they shared.
But Cayden didn't remember those times, and so Del kissed his temple instead, reassuring him. I don't want you to get your hopes up, Del said in Cayden's mind. This might have been the last moments they could do this for a while, and Del was already missing it, the comfort of knowing that this was their link to one another. Not just across distances, but across lifetimes. Del pressed his face into Cayden's hair, arm shifting around his shoulders, hiding the absolute pang of sadness that had very nearly overwhelmed him just then.
I will try the moment I am across. But if Eli has tried already and not succeeded, then I don't know. He exhaled heavily, his grip tightening. Out loud he said, "I hate that I don't."
Cayden knew it wasn't likely, but he'd had hope for a moment. Then he realized if there had been no contact from Eli, it either didn't work or Eli was unable to think at all and that made Cayden weak with worry. He pressed harder against Del, hugging him tightly.
"I will hope it does not work then. Rather than the alternative. That he is hurt too badly to reach out." Sometimes being honest was a curse. Often he could smother the urge down, hide it behind misdirection or just not speak at all. But when he was ill and anxious and safe, here in Del's arms, to voice his weakness, he couldn't always resist. "Or maybe you will be strong enough together to do what one could not? Reaching across planes of existence is no easy feat."
Another round of coughing seized him, burning his lungs and leaving him gasping. "Even then…I will likely be too weak to be a good anchor…at the other end."
Del eased Cayden out of his grip the moment the coughing started back up, only to press him against the mound of pillows at the headboard. He wasn't making this easier to leave him behind. The coughing fits, the fever, the absolute terror the illness was ripping through his body. Del had briefly wondered, more than once, if he could fight a virus.
"You have never been weak in your life, Cayden," Del said, crowding into his space on the bed. He needed to keep him somewhat horizontal and it didn't help if Cayden kept leaning into him if Del was too far away. Soon, he would be. Soon, Del wouldn't be able to stop Cayden from being willful and headstrong and not taking care of himself because he was worried about them. Eli didn't have control over that, but Del did, and he hated that leaving him was the best answer.
He smoothed Cayden's hair away from his face, gentle and so, so careful. Not as a sign that he believed Cayden fragile, but because of how goddamn precious he was, and always had been, to Del. "You have never been weak in any life. Do not let a sickness get the better of you or believe you to be any less than you are, sia itov."
Kissing Cayden was uncomplicated, because denying the desire to had been torture for the century before. This kiss was soft, chaste, just on the corner of his mouth, but still uncharacteristically sweet. "I will reach out to you as much as we can. I won't stop trying."
Cayden took advantage of the closeness and coiled himself around Del's hip. It helped to hear Del say such things. Even if Cayden still felt like a wet sock. On his worst day, Cayden would still find solace in Del's thoughts and feelings. His strength and determination. Cayden arched into the kiss, tame as it was, and then pressed his hot forehead to Del's cheek.
"Not a single life? Not even the one where I was a--" He'd started to speak without any real thought, and he realized halfway through the sentence that the vague outline of a past life was simmering in the back of his mind. Still not firm or detailed, but something. Something more was there than had been yesterday. It felt like terrible timing with Eli not here, but also he couldn't help but smile and breathe out, baffled. "Was I an artist once? One not particularly interested in fighting?"
Del stilled. He was used to Cayden not finishing that sentence. For getting so close to the precipice of hope only to have Cayden or Eli banish the thought, not have the memory that Del had thought maybe they would remember. He recalled Cayden coming close once, having pieces of history to shove in face, thinking it might do something. But now, of course, when he was wracked with fever, and Del was hours away from leaving behind to go on a rescue mission, he would find a fragment of another life.
"You were an artist once, yes," Del said softly, slowly. Like he might chase the memory away by just confirming it. His hands on Cayden were moving gently, tentatively, ghosting over his shoulder and elbow with the tips of his fingers, cataloging the way he felt against him. There had been a time, when Cayden had been that compassionate and forgiving artist, curled against Del's broad flank. He had done something similar, the pleasant caress, but with his dragon tail.
"Deciding not to fight, being a pacifist who only wants to make beautiful things, does not make you weak. So no, I'm going to say it again, not in a single life," Del said, waiting for Cayden to say more, wondering if he should. Del was not feeling particularly patient today, so he added, "The painting of me, in the book I borrowed from the library—" That he had never returned, but that wasn't important, "—that was you."
"No, no, you are right. I find I am rather fond of that thought. I have never had the choice not to fight." Cayden closed his eyes and enjoyed the gentle caress. It was tempting to shift, but it was harder like this. Keeping the shape became work rather than instinct. And he wanted to stay as he was to hold Del in his arms anyway. He scratched his fingers up Del's spine in a soothing stroke.
"I knew that painting was special to you," he murmured. "I did not realize it was special to me too. It makes sense though. I got a glimpse then, when I touched it." He touched Del the way he had the painting: with reverence. It occurred to him that if things went badly, if the portal closed and couldn't be reopened, this could be the last day they spent together. The knowledge caught under his ribcage and burned painfully. He took a deep breath and reached to grab Del by the chin and pull the dragon's attention directly to his own face.
"I love you," Cayden whispered fiercely. "I need you to know that. If there is nothing else you take with you from this world, let it be that. All right?"
His breath stopped at Cayden's reverent touch, followed by a small, punched out, wounded sound that Del made at the words. He seemed to always be hoving over I love you, waiting until the moment they were ready to hear them. Ready to understand that his own love for Cayden and Eli had been immortal and uncompromised. It had never left him, it had never wavered. His love was simmering across every surface, breathed into every action, infused with every touch. But like always, even when Del had promised to be honest, love and speaking it into existence had been something he held back. Something, he had thought, they were not ready for.
Maybe, now, with Cayden holding his chin, forcing him to look into the depths of his eyes, and feel the magnitude of what he was saying, Del was wrong.
He scooped up Cayden's face with his hands, pressing his mouth to his. He was rough, and desperate, needy and overwhelmed, as though he was pouring all the moments that had stacked up before this where he wanted to say I love you in to this kiss. "I will take it," Del said against Cayden's lips, his eyes closed, almost like he was pained. There had been too many goodbyes like this before, Del hated that he remembered all of them so plainly.
"And I will keep it, and I will bring it back to you. Don't make your goodbye sound like forever. Say it again, when I return. Save it so that you know I would rather stay in this world to hear you tell me again and again. I love you, and I have always loved you," Del whispered back, then kissed Cayden again, sickness be damned. "And I will tell you again when I'm home."
As terrible as this all was, Cayden still felt lighter. He was a snotty mess, but he was loved. He'd never really known the feeling, even in a platonic sense. He understood now why wars were started over such things. He kissed back as firmly as his weakness would allow and then rested his cheek on Del's shoulder as he spoke.
"I will tell you as many times as you want. Bring Eliphas home so we may tell him too. I am curious to see what his expressive face does," he hummed thoughtfully. What energy he had was dwindling to nothing and he started to sag back against the pillows. One of his hands still clung to Del's neck. "Forgive me. I am so tired. I know you need to prepare, but…will you lay with me awhile?"
Del could sense the waning energy from Cayden. He didn't urge him to stay upright, he didn't resist when he went back to the pillows. Del followed slowly that Cayden didn't have to keep reaching. The sickness was making things worse, and even though Del did have to finish getting his things together, the thought of leaving Cayden alone like this stirred something awful in his gut. But here was safe, where Eli might not have been. He had to make a choice.
Once he had found them both, Del didn't think he would have to anymore. But Vallo seemed to have a different idea of how he would spend this mortal life.
"You are forgiven," Del said, teasing oh-so-gently, as he peppered soft kisses against his cheeks, his forehead, that space behind his ear. He settled against the bed, wrapping his arms in a protective, warm cocoon around Cayden's shoulders. "I will lay with you as long as I can. Now, sleep."