montaguechaser: ::returns home in the late afternoon via floo powder, dusting himself off as he stumbles out of the fireplace, completely emotionally drained -- and it shows::
warringtonchaser: ::sitting on the couch tensely reading :: Hey, Tybs.
montaguechaser: ::looks up, flashing him a weary smile, softening a little as he makes his way over:: ...hey.
warringtonchaser: ::leans back a bit and sets his book down, moving over a little to make room for Tyb to sit:: Where've you been?
montaguechaser: ...over at Terence's. ::runs his fingers through his hair, flopping down gratefully beside him:: Sorting through this whole mess he's gotten himself into, with Adrian. ::shakes his head, wincing:: Which has no bloody easy answers, but...they love each other. They'll work it out.
warringtonchaser: Poor Ter. I can't believe Adrian's putting him through all this garbage. Terence isn't exacty the most... stable of people. ::runs fingers through his hair reflectively::
montaguechaser: ::shakes his head slightly, shrugging:: I don't know what to think, honestly, but...it'll work itself out. God, it bloody better, or we might all go mad from it.
warringtonchaser: ::looks up:: I think I'm going mad already. I can't take much more of this.
montaguechaser: ::softens, leaning over to touch the other's cheek, gently, thumb running over his cheekbone:: ...sorry. I should've...been here for you, for more of this.
warringtonchaser: ::closes eyes and slumps over a little, butting his face in his hands:: Don't apologize. It's not your fault, nothing is your fault.
montaguechaser: ::sighs deeply:: Bloody hell. Of all the times to quit drinking... ::runs his hand down Chris's back, gently, reassuringly:: ...something wrong...?
warringtonchaser: Something ? ::raises voice a little:: Everything is fucking wrong.
montaguechaser: ...::winces slightly, hand stilling on his back:: ...something in particular. With you, I meant.
warringtonchaser: ::shakes head:: Yeah, with me, too. I don't... I don't... Hold me, Tybs. I don't know what to do.
montaguechaser: ::blinks, eyes widening, and then softens, leaning in to take him into his arms, tightly, but gently:: ...of course. You don't even-- have to bloody ask, love.
warringtonchaser: ::lays his head against Tyb's neck:: I don't know what to depend on anymore. I don't even know if I can depend on myself anymore, damn it!
montaguechaser: ...it's the way things are, now. ::pauses, sighing, body firming itself:: ...you can depend on me. If you need something to depend on...you can always depend on me.
warringtonchaser: I know, I know. I've always been able to count on you, Tyb. That, at least, won't ever change.
montaguechaser: ...no. It's...never going to change. ::softens slightly, running his fingers through Chris's hair, soothing him, kissing his temple::
warringtonchaser: Oh, Tybs. I don't deserve you. I don't deserve this... you have no idea. ::moves closer, just looking for the warmth of someone else::
montaguechaser: ...of course you do. Don't be stupid. Of course you deserve it, no one deserves it more than you do... ::sighs softly, deeply, pulling him closer, tighter:: ...tell me what's bothering you. Tell me everything that's wrong...
warringtonchaser: Marcus promised me he wouldn't do anything stupid, Tyb. I can't stand that thought. He didn't even tell us that they were planning this.
montaguechaser: ...I know. I know, he promised you, but... ::sighs, covering up a wince -- feeling the oddest, deepest twinge of jealousy, brought on by something he can't even name. Quickly, he pushes it away.:: ...maybe just to spare us. It was fucking stupid...
warringtonchaser: ::is silent for a moment:: He should have told us. I would have stopped him, talked him out of it. He wouldn't be hurt right now.
montaguechaser: ...I don't think you could have talked him out of it, Chris. ...stupid as it was, his bloody stubborn mind was set on it, and you know Marcus. Once he wants something...he goes for it. Gets it.
warringtonchaser: Yes, I... always wished I was more like Marcus, actually. Instead of such a bloody coward.
montaguechaser: ::again. This feeling of tight jealousy, in his throat, his chest.:: ...I don't know if what he did could be called bloody brave. And I don't know if anyone has reason to call you a bloody coward.
warringtonchaser: ::takes a deep breath:: I am. I know I am, nobody has to call me one.
montaguechaser: ...I'll call you an idiot, if you want, just for saying something so bloody not true. ::winces a little:: ...c'mon, Chris, you should know better than to say something like that to me. I bloody love you.
warringtonchaser: ::closes eyes:: I... I know.
montaguechaser: And really -- you aren't.
warringtonchaser: ::looks up a little:: I love you, Tyb, you know that, don't you?
montaguechaser: ::grins, half cheekily, head tilting to the side to meet Chris's eyes -- he always feel like he can take on the world, when he hears that, even if it does seem rather strange, the wording:: ...of course I know that. S'the only damn thing that keeps me going, sometimes.
warringtonchaser: You shouldn't... ::shifts uncomfortably:: you shouldn't say that.
montaguechaser: ::blinks a little:: ...why not...? ::pauses, trying to to frown, trying to feel the little stab of pain in his chest, at that:: ...it's true...
warringtonchaser: No, because I do love you, but I shouldn't be everything to you.
montaguechaser: ::...and that cut. Deeper, harsher, than any knife could ever have done:: ...oh. ::he recoiled, mentally, emotionally, shocked beyond words.::
warringtonchaser: I'm...::realizes that he's said something wrong, yes, very wrong:: I'm sorry, Tyb. I shouldn't have said that, either.
montaguechaser: ...no. No... ::swallows, amazed he can still manage to speak, though his voice sounds hollow, to him, metallic, empty:: ...you meant it, right? Better to say it.
warringtonchaser: I only meant that in case anything ever... in case anything ever should happen to me, I don't want to be all that you have. ::Fuck, put my foot in it again, this is NOT going well.::
montaguechaser: ::can barely hear the words, over the numbness, feeling a little weak-kneed -- it's all too much, in light of recent events:: ...right. I understand. ::voice still -- hollow, achingly so, and he cant' seem to put it right, not even to save some sort of face.::
warringtonchaser: No, Gods, no you don't. I'm so sorry for saying that, Tyb, I am. ::feels miserable, like there's a chunk of hot metal in the pit of his stomach:: I'm so sorry.
montaguechaser: ...no. No, don't -- just don't fucking apologize for it. Please. You don't have to. ::pauses, eyes widening in slight realization:: ...is this what's been bothering you? That--... ::he can't even finsih the sentence. Can't even finish it.::
warringtonchaser: I...no, I...I don't... I don't fucking well know what to say.
montaguechaser: ...say something. ::voice low, unsure, oddly shaky:: ...please. Chris. Say something.
warringtonchaser: ::shakes head miserably, just a fraction, just a tiny movement, opens his mouth and closes it again, silent::
montaguechaser: ...::opens his mouth -- ready to say it, ready to plead with him, 'please, Chris' ready on his tongue...and then he closes his mouth again, shaking his head:: ...fine. Don't tell me. That's -- that's bloody all right, too. I'm not terrified out of my mind right now; I'm not utterly and completely at a loss for words. Just-- just do this to me, and then don't bloody explain it. Fine.
warringtonchaser: I'm so sorry, Tybs. I'm so sorry. I just think we should...This is all my fucking fault. I'm such a fucking idiot.
montaguechaser: ::silence for a moment, breathless, poignant, air pregnant with tension:: ...you think we should....what...? ::expect the worst. Hope for the best...but expect the worst.::
warringtonchaser: ::buries face in hands again, so that his voice is muffled:: I just think that maybe we should, maybe...cool it off for a little while.
montaguechaser: ::surprisingly enough, the sound of his heart breaking wasn't audible to the outside world. It was, as it turned out, rather quiet, rather understated; a subtle shifting of emotions, a sickening crunch that even he didn't hear, and that was it. You fucked it up, Tybalt. Again.:: ...all right. ::and his voice was -- it was fine.:: ...right. You want to-- all right. ::he pulled back, slowly, because he couldn't bear to touch the other -- couldn't bear it, now.:: ...I'll just...right.
warringtonchaser: ::looks away:: I am so sorry. I am so fucking sorry, Tybalt. I don't know how to say.... ::squeezes his eyes shut, feeling so unutterably awful, indescribably horrible::
montaguechaser: ...just. You know something? Just-- just save it. ::he stood from the couch, trembling slightly, but determined, backing away from the other slowly, unable to think and unable to feel beyond the fact that oh God I swear my heart's stopped fucking beating...:: Don't even-- you know, don't even let it bother you. ::I have to get the hell out of here.::
warringtonchaser: ::looks up with tears running down his cheeks:: How the fuck could I not let it fucking bother me? I love you.
montaguechaser: ...right. ::it was so easy to be strong -- to say he was going to be strong when he had someone to be strong for -- when he had Chris. Now. Now?:: ...don't-- don't you dare fucking say such a thing, don't you dare say it and start crying-- I can't even-- hold you, for Merlin's sake, Chris! ::shakes his head, wildly, tears threatening suddenly to spill over::
montaguechaser: ...right. ::it was so easy to be strong -- to say he was going to be strong when he had someone to be strong for -- when he had Chris. Now. Now?:: ...don't-- don't you dare fucking say such a thing, don't you dare say it and start crying-- I can't even-- hold you, for Merlin's sake, Chris! ::shakes his head, wildly, tears threatening suddenly to spill over::
warringtonchaser: Oh, God, don't cry, Tyb, please, don't cry. I couldn't stand it if you cried, please. ::spreads his palms helplessly::
montaguechaser: ...what...what in Merlin's name...what in Merlin's name am I supposed to do? Be bloody-- overjoyed?! I love you. I love you and I-- I can't even make you happy... ::cuts off, choked up, lifting his shoulders in a broken, desperate shrug:: ...I just-- I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't... for you. All the things ...I wanted to. ::turns, then-- and makes a run for it.::
warringtonchaser: ::jumps off couch and runs out the still-open door:: Tybalt, fucking stop. I'm not letting you leave like this!
montaguechaser: ::turns, stumbling slightly, a panicked, hunted look in his eyes:: ...don't you fucking want me to go? ::running away. Again. A coward. Again. What he always will be, no matter how hard he tries.:: ...shit. Chris. Fuck! ::tugs his wand out of his sleeve, and disapparates, only nothingness remaining in the darkened streets, where he once stood.::
warringtonchaser: ::sits, just, sits on the sidewalk, can't make his legs hold him up, puts his head in his hands, and cries::  I am such a fucking bastard. Oh, God.