3ofswords (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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sixthiterationlogs2017-09-23 01:58 pm
3ofswords) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2017-09-23 01:58 pm
Entry tags:
[closed] nothing scares me anymore
WHO: Kira Akiyama
WHERE: House 19
WHEN: September 17
OPEN TO: Credence Barebone
WARNINGS: Usual warnings for Credence and his history; abuse, etc
Credence is still here.
He knows as much from Bodhi. If he just stays on the porch, Credence will either come out the door, or come home. The day he spent waiting for Tim to come home had just gotten him an armful of distressed goat, some new shirts for her to chew on as he carried her to the pens. It’s a thing that hovers overhead, the surprising weight of that loss. He’s going to lie to himself a little longer, however long it takes to keep it crashing down.
When he went to the church, someone else had taken it over. Sonny had--done something stupid, while he was gone, and no one’s really seen him since.
Everyone’s going to leave you.
He hadn’t needed it said aloud: he knew. Maybe that’s why he'd left first, dragged himself across the gap in the wall and taken care of himself, by himself. It’s going to be like that sometimes. It’s going to be like that a lot of the time, probably. If he’d stayed, the only difference would be the note he’d left people on.
Kira isn’t going to let that be the case with Credence.
The sun climbs higher in the sky, and he winds up dozing, back to the post, body strewn across the top step for someone to trip over. He’ll go three verbal rounds with Graves if he has to: he’s not going anywhere until he sees Credence with his own eyes. Until he gets to explain.
Maybe it’s a shift in the air, maybe it’s a shadow across his waist--it isn’t anything else when Hoshi ruffles up against his jaw, and Kira blinks all the way awake for someone’s approach. “Credence,” he asks, voice soft and drowned in sleep. Lifting a hand against the slant of the sun, he squints at the sloping silhouette. “Credence,” he affirms, pulling himself to sit forward with his feet on the steps below. “You’re home.”
The sigh pushing through the words is entirely relieved.
WHERE: House 19
WHEN: September 17
OPEN TO: Credence Barebone
WARNINGS: Usual warnings for Credence and his history; abuse, etc
Credence is still here.
He knows as much from Bodhi. If he just stays on the porch, Credence will either come out the door, or come home. The day he spent waiting for Tim to come home had just gotten him an armful of distressed goat, some new shirts for her to chew on as he carried her to the pens. It’s a thing that hovers overhead, the surprising weight of that loss. He’s going to lie to himself a little longer, however long it takes to keep it crashing down.
When he went to the church, someone else had taken it over. Sonny had--done something stupid, while he was gone, and no one’s really seen him since.
Everyone’s going to leave you.
He hadn’t needed it said aloud: he knew. Maybe that’s why he'd left first, dragged himself across the gap in the wall and taken care of himself, by himself. It’s going to be like that sometimes. It’s going to be like that a lot of the time, probably. If he’d stayed, the only difference would be the note he’d left people on.
Kira isn’t going to let that be the case with Credence.
The sun climbs higher in the sky, and he winds up dozing, back to the post, body strewn across the top step for someone to trip over. He’ll go three verbal rounds with Graves if he has to: he’s not going anywhere until he sees Credence with his own eyes. Until he gets to explain.
Maybe it’s a shift in the air, maybe it’s a shadow across his waist--it isn’t anything else when Hoshi ruffles up against his jaw, and Kira blinks all the way awake for someone’s approach. “Credence,” he asks, voice soft and drowned in sleep. Lifting a hand against the slant of the sun, he squints at the sloping silhouette. “Credence,” he affirms, pulling himself to sit forward with his feet on the steps below. “You’re home.”
The sigh pushing through the words is entirely relieved.
no subject
Enough, at least, to pretend nothing's wrong. It's not the best option but it is an option, and one that Credence clings to for familiarity alone. He does his routine, and he does it well, and the air smells crisp, like fall, like Central Park, and that makes him just a little happy, too.
It worries him as well, of course. It means it's going to be a year he's been here, the next turn of the season. It sets a lump in his throat, as he rounds the corner to head to his house. A whole year. A lot has changed, and a lot still hasn't. A lot he's working towards. Like seeing Kira, for example.
He thinks, for a brief moment, that he's gone mad. That he's just imagined Kira against the porch, like nothing had ever happened. He smiles, genuine and true, but wipes it off once he steps closer.
Credence has to be serious. This has to go perfectly. Credence needs to apologize.
"I'm home," he murmurs, and the surprise really does leap into his voice.
"You're not waiting for Mr. Graves, are you?"
no subject
Even without him around. That's good, and maybe it's his new friend, or maybe Kira owes Graves a little more credit.
He'll take that debt to the grave, honestly, and his smile is more playful than anything: "Credence, if my life depended on sparing my patience to your tightass mentor, I would literally choose to die.
"I'm here for you."