The door creaked open slowly; Berwald realized that, despite how careful he’d been in the past few days, he’d forgotten to lock the door. Still, he barely reacted, glancing out of the corner of his eye at the door. Mathias was standing there, looking hesitant.
“I called Tino,” Mathias said after a few seconds, and fully entered the room, closing the door behind him. “I told him what happened.”
“…When’s he gettin’ here?” Berwald mumbled, defeated. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor.
“He’s not. At least not yet.” Mathias leaned against the door. “I told him not to come, that ya didn’t wanna be seen by anyone. He still wants to, but right now he’s trustin’ me to stay and keep him updated. Can’t promise he won’t come over in a panic if he has a few drinks, though.” He sighed. “Look, I’m only here ‘cause you’re scarin’ the shit outta me, and I’m pretty sure Tino’d have a heart attack if he saw ya in this shape.” Mathias approached the bed. “But you hafta tell me what happened, and ya damn well better promise not to touch me again. The only reason I didn’t hit ya is cause somethin’ is seriously wrong. You’re hurt, or sick, or somethin’, I don’t know.”
“Y’should go.” Berwald wouldn’t look directly at him. “I shouldn’t be ‘round people.”
“Bullshit.” Mathias sat down, a foot of space between them on the bed. “Why’d ya hit me yesterday, and why’d ya grab my wrist a few minutes ago?”
Berwald glanced over. There were already red marks on Mathias’s wrist that would certainly darken into bruises, adding to the bruises already on his face. His stomach churned. “Wasn’t ya I wanted t’hit.” It was something he hadn’t even admitted to himself, and it only made him feel worse.
Mathias didn’t speak for a few moments. “Who did ya wanna hit?” he asked, sounding confused. Berwald shook his head. “If you’re gonna use me as your substitute punchin’ bag, I at least deserve to know who you’re pretendin’ I am, yanno.” He tilted his head. “Couldn’t be Tino, I’m pretty sure there’s nothin’ he could possibly do that’d get you this mad. Lukas and Erik could probably piss you off pretty bad if they tried hard enough, but Erik is too busy tryin’ to get into Kirana’s pants to bother, and Lukas actually enjoys your company for some weird reason.”
Berwald kept silent. Maybe if he just shut his mouth long enough, Mathias would give up and leave.
No such luck. “Berwald,” Mathias said a few moments later. He reached up and put his hand on Berwald’s cheek, turning his head to look at him. The Dane then gestured at the bruising around his nose and then held up his reddened wrist. “This isn’t you, hasn’t been for almost two centuries, and I’m not leavin’ until I find out why ya did this and find a way to fix it.”
“Y’can’t fix’t.”
“So you’re finally admittin’ somethin’ is wrong. That’s a step.”
“S’not yer business.”
“It’s always my business when one of ya is hurt.” Mathias scooted over until he was just a few inches away.
“And f’I don’t want t’?”
Mathias shrugged. “You will eventually.” He reached over and patted Berwald on the shoulder. “Can ya at least tell me why ya won’t tell me?”
Berwald removed Mathias’s hand from his shoulder and examined it. It was the one with the hurt wrist, and he could still see the imprint of his fingers. Even if he didn’t want to explain anything to Mathias, he knew he needed help since he was obviously affected enough to become violent. “Ya’d think less of me,” he said, letting go of the other’s wrist.
“There isn’t much that’d make me do that.”
“Liar.”
“Hey, I mean it. You’re Swedish, after all, so ya don’t have much to lose.” Mathias smiled at his own joke and lightly elbowed Berwald in the ribs. Berwald didn’t return the smile. “...But seriously, I can’t think of anythin’ you’d be willin’ to do that’d be that bad.”
“What f’it wasn’t somethin’ I was willin’ t’do?”
Mathias’s smile faded. He looked confused, more than anything. “Why would ya think I’d dislike ya for somethin’ you were forced to do?” he asked. A second later and his eyes widened a little; it seemed to have clicked. He withdrew a little, moving over slightly so they were farther apart.
“I told ya,” Berwald mumbled. He knew Mathias would react like this.
Mathias shook his head. “I’m not- Berwald, why the hell would ya think I’d think less of you for that?” He raised his hand, moving to put it on Berwald’s arm, but stopped himself. “Alright if I touch ya?” he asked.
Berwald glanced at Mathias’s face; he could see the concern there, but he was certain hiding below it somewhere, there was laughter. Slowly, he nodded. “S’fine.” He watched Mathias’s hand as he placed it on his arm; he didn’t trust himself not to forget whose hand it was otherwise.
“Because I know you can’t go beat the shit outta him or her yourself, but that doesn’t mean I can’t.”
Berwald placed his hand over Mathias’s. He was briefly tempted to accept the offer, but he didn’t want to be directly responsible for putting one of his people in the hospital. Knowing how Mathias could get, Vincent would be lucky to live to see the hospital. “Not important.”
“Why not?”
“Don’t want ‘im dead.”
“I wouldn’t kill him, just maim him!”
“That’s what y’said ‘fore ya killed that blacksmith.”
“Hey, he deserved it! ‘Sides, that was almost a thousand years ago, if that happened today doctors coulda saved him.”
“Not lettin’ ya put one of mine in the hospital or the morgue, Mathias.”
“Well obviously ya want him hurtin’. You punch me, I punch him for you, it all works out.”
Berwald fell silent. As much as Vincent had hurt him, he didn’t want to hurt back; he was a terrible human being, but he was still one of Berwald’s human beings. It was pathetic.
“…Okay, fine, don’t tell me. I can put off beatin’ him to a pulp. Can you at least tell me what ya need?”
“What d’ya mean?”
“Do ya need me to stop touchin’ ya or somethin’ like that? I’m not gonna leave, you’re in no state to take care of yourself, so don’t say ya need me to leave.”
Berwald frowned, not having entirely figured that out himself. “…ask before y’touch me,” he said, deciding that was a good compromise for now.
Mathias nodded. “Fair enough. What do ya want me to tell Lukas and Tino when they ask? They will eventually.”
Berwald shrugged. “Make somethin’ up.”
“Damn, this really did hit ya hard if you’re trustin’ me to make up a lie about ya.” Mathias smiled. Berwald didn’t. “Could tell ‘em ya were banned from coffee by your boss.” Berwald was fully aware that Mathias was just trying to make him laugh, but wasn’t likely he would succeed. “I’d probably punch ya and have a nervous breakdown if that happened to me. Lukas, too. No one’s stupid enough to try that with Tino though, with all the rifles he has.”
Despite how little humor Berwald found in the other’s joking, he did enjoy it; the fact that Mathias was trying so hard to make him feel happier helped. He quietly sat, listening to Mathias ramble on, going from Tino’s past caffeine-deprived meltdowns to how convinced he was that Erik was sleeping with Kirana. It felt comfortable.
A!A: Since I know this would bug the hell out of me if I was reading this: I didn’t forget about the bread in the oven. It finished baking and Mathias took it out right after he called Tino.
I apologize I took so long to update, it’s been a very, very busy week. And next week is midterms, so I might not update until late again, unfortunately. But I'll do my best!
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Salve 8a/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-17 09:28 pm (UTC)(link)“I called Tino,” Mathias said after a few seconds, and fully entered the room, closing the door behind him. “I told him what happened.”
“…When’s he gettin’ here?” Berwald mumbled, defeated. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor.
“He’s not. At least not yet.” Mathias leaned against the door. “I told him not to come, that ya didn’t wanna be seen by anyone. He still wants to, but right now he’s trustin’ me to stay and keep him updated. Can’t promise he won’t come over in a panic if he has a few drinks, though.” He sighed. “Look, I’m only here ‘cause you’re scarin’ the shit outta me, and I’m pretty sure Tino’d have a heart attack if he saw ya in this shape.” Mathias approached the bed. “But you hafta tell me what happened, and ya damn well better promise not to touch me again. The only reason I didn’t hit ya is cause somethin’ is seriously wrong. You’re hurt, or sick, or somethin’, I don’t know.”
“Y’should go.” Berwald wouldn’t look directly at him. “I shouldn’t be ‘round people.”
“Bullshit.” Mathias sat down, a foot of space between them on the bed. “Why’d ya hit me yesterday, and why’d ya grab my wrist a few minutes ago?”
Berwald glanced over. There were already red marks on Mathias’s wrist that would certainly darken into bruises, adding to the bruises already on his face. His stomach churned. “Wasn’t ya I wanted t’hit.” It was something he hadn’t even admitted to himself, and it only made him feel worse.
Mathias didn’t speak for a few moments. “Who did ya wanna hit?” he asked, sounding confused. Berwald shook his head. “If you’re gonna use me as your substitute punchin’ bag, I at least deserve to know who you’re pretendin’ I am, yanno.” He tilted his head. “Couldn’t be Tino, I’m pretty sure there’s nothin’ he could possibly do that’d get you this mad. Lukas and Erik could probably piss you off pretty bad if they tried hard enough, but Erik is too busy tryin’ to get into Kirana’s pants to bother, and Lukas actually enjoys your company for some weird reason.”
Berwald kept silent. Maybe if he just shut his mouth long enough, Mathias would give up and leave.
No such luck. “Berwald,” Mathias said a few moments later. He reached up and put his hand on Berwald’s cheek, turning his head to look at him. The Dane then gestured at the bruising around his nose and then held up his reddened wrist. “This isn’t you, hasn’t been for almost two centuries, and I’m not leavin’ until I find out why ya did this and find a way to fix it.”
“Y’can’t fix’t.”
“So you’re finally admittin’ somethin’ is wrong. That’s a step.”
“S’not yer business.”
“It’s always my business when one of ya is hurt.” Mathias scooted over until he was just a few inches away.
“And f’I don’t want t’?”
Mathias shrugged. “You will eventually.” He reached over and patted Berwald on the shoulder. “Can ya at least tell me why ya won’t tell me?”
Berwald removed Mathias’s hand from his shoulder and examined it. It was the one with the hurt wrist, and he could still see the imprint of his fingers. Even if he didn’t want to explain anything to Mathias, he knew he needed help since he was obviously affected enough to become violent. “Ya’d think less of me,” he said, letting go of the other’s wrist.
“There isn’t much that’d make me do that.”
“Liar.”
“Hey, I mean it. You’re Swedish, after all, so ya don’t have much to lose.” Mathias smiled at his own joke and lightly elbowed Berwald in the ribs. Berwald didn’t return the smile. “...But seriously, I can’t think of anythin’ you’d be willin’ to do that’d be that bad.”
“What f’it wasn’t somethin’ I was willin’ t’do?”
Mathias’s smile faded. He looked confused, more than anything. “Why would ya think I’d dislike ya for somethin’ you were forced to do?” he asked. A second later and his eyes widened a little; it seemed to have clicked. He withdrew a little, moving over slightly so they were farther apart.
“I told ya,” Berwald mumbled. He knew Mathias would react like this.
Salve 8b/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-17 09:29 pm (UTC)(link)Berwald glanced at Mathias’s face; he could see the concern there, but he was certain hiding below it somewhere, there was laughter. Slowly, he nodded. “S’fine.” He watched Mathias’s hand as he placed it on his arm; he didn’t trust himself not to forget whose hand it was otherwise.
“Who hurt ya?” Mathias asked, squeezing Berwald’s arm.
“Why d’ya care?”
“Because I know you can’t go beat the shit outta him or her yourself, but that doesn’t mean I can’t.”
Berwald placed his hand over Mathias’s. He was briefly tempted to accept the offer, but he didn’t want to be directly responsible for putting one of his people in the hospital. Knowing how Mathias could get, Vincent would be lucky to live to see the hospital. “Not important.”
“Why not?”
“Don’t want ‘im dead.”
“I wouldn’t kill him, just maim him!”
“That’s what y’said ‘fore ya killed that blacksmith.”
“Hey, he deserved it! ‘Sides, that was almost a thousand years ago, if that happened today doctors coulda saved him.”
“Not lettin’ ya put one of mine in the hospital or the morgue, Mathias.”
“Well obviously ya want him hurtin’. You punch me, I punch him for you, it all works out.”
Berwald fell silent. As much as Vincent had hurt him, he didn’t want to hurt back; he was a terrible human being, but he was still one of Berwald’s human beings. It was pathetic.
“…Okay, fine, don’t tell me. I can put off beatin’ him to a pulp. Can you at least tell me what ya need?”
“What d’ya mean?”
“Do ya need me to stop touchin’ ya or somethin’ like that? I’m not gonna leave, you’re in no state to take care of yourself, so don’t say ya need me to leave.”
Berwald frowned, not having entirely figured that out himself. “…ask before y’touch me,” he said, deciding that was a good compromise for now.
Mathias nodded. “Fair enough. What do ya want me to tell Lukas and Tino when they ask? They will eventually.”
Berwald shrugged. “Make somethin’ up.”
“Damn, this really did hit ya hard if you’re trustin’ me to make up a lie about ya.” Mathias smiled. Berwald didn’t. “Could tell ‘em ya were banned from coffee by your boss.” Berwald was fully aware that Mathias was just trying to make him laugh, but wasn’t likely he would succeed. “I’d probably punch ya and have a nervous breakdown if that happened to me. Lukas, too. No one’s stupid enough to try that with Tino though, with all the rifles he has.”
Despite how little humor Berwald found in the other’s joking, he did enjoy it; the fact that Mathias was trying so hard to make him feel happier helped. He quietly sat, listening to Mathias ramble on, going from Tino’s past caffeine-deprived meltdowns to how convinced he was that Erik was sleeping with Kirana. It felt comfortable.
A!A: Since I know this would bug the hell out of me if I was reading this: I didn’t forget about the bread in the oven. It finished baking and Mathias took it out right after he called Tino.
I apologize I took so long to update, it’s been a very, very busy week. And next week is midterms, so I might not update until late again, unfortunately. But I'll do my best!
Re: Salve 8b/?
(Anonymous) 2013-03-18 01:21 pm (UTC)(link)