tampered | (no subject)

(no subject)

When; Saturday, November 22nd
Rating; PG-13
Characters; Boy Blue

playstheblues and the Corinthian

bitingnightmare
Summary; Boy Blue comes back from being stoned to a horrible surprise.
Log;

It had been an hour, and the house was still dark. Blue hadn't moved from his place in all that time; he might as well have remained stoned, only now he was curled up on the couch, his trumpet on the ground, his legs curled up tight against his chest.

He hadn't cried. The tears wouldn't come. He couldn't stop hoping that this was a nightmare; that somehow the dream had gotten past the black door that blocked them, that Cori has let it through because he had to have one, but no; no, that wasn't it either. He couldn't touch his hand to where it was missing. He couldn't cry, and he couldn't move.

If he moved, maybe it would be true.

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[Coming in not long after. A long day this was, a long day of sniffing for clues and things and well, NOT seeing Blue stoned with his broken arm. He's going to get killed, he just knows it. That's when he sees Blue on the couch.]

Blue?

[He hears his name and he shifts a little, then wraps himself around his arm]

[He sees you.]

Blue.

[Wake up. Cori has no qualms about making you wake up.]

[He curls up tighter]

No.

[That's when he sees something wrong.]

Blue. Get up. What's wrong.

I don't want to.

[He wraps himself around where his arm should be]

............

[This is not good. So not good that Cori actually stumbles back, hitting the coffee table and falling on his ass.]

Your--

[Arm..... No. It can't be.]

[Blue lets out a short, biting cry]

It's gone!

Oh shit. Oh shit.

[Crawling back to Blue, and yes he is crawling.]

I'm so fucking sorry.

Cori he cut off my arm!

[Wait. What?]

Who.

[He's not moving, just curling up tighter]

Swineheart.

How do I kill him.

[Moving closer to examine his arm.]

[He's skittish - he moves to pull it away]

He said...he said he had to do it.

Why, Blue. Tell me.

[Retracting his hands then but not his presence.]

The witching cloak.

What about it.

Do you need anything?

[Looking at the stump again. Is it clean? Cauterized? Does it need to be dressed?]

[It's bandaged but clean]

R...remember the wound I took in the war?

There was a thread of the wit-witchin-

Cori how am I going to play the trumpet?

So... nothing broke? I mean, besides that.

[Reaching up to have a look again, please? Pleeeeaaase? Also he is ignoring that question for now.]

[He's holding onto the stump]

What?

You were a statue, Blue, for like a week. I had a fight with my shadow.

[Maybe he shouldn't tell Blue after all.]

....I was at home.

Unless it was a nightmare.

[He looks at Cori in the teeth]

I don't think it was a nightmare.

[Just LOOK at that arm.]

[He's shaking - and it's not because he's cold]

Come here.

[But he's moving towards Blue, hand to his arm, carefully touching.]

You don't want to touch me.

[It's a statement, not a question.]

Yes I do.

[See this touch to his remaining elbow? Please don't hit him Blue.]

What do I do?

[He pulls his knees up]

I've...it's my right hand.

Why didn't my mother stop this?

I just...

[He stops talking. And he closes up]

Shut up, Blue. Just shut up.

[The words themselves might seem mean, but he says them softly, meaning it for the blonde's own good. He settles his arms loosely around Blue.]

[He stiffens and then presses his head against Cori's shoulder; his hand goes to the stump where his arm was]

I would gladly suffer this, Cori, if this sacrifice was for you.

But I don't know if this is enough.

[He's shaking, and he can't stop talking]

I don't know if anything else is enough.

[Combing his fingers through his hair, because it's very hard to come up with the right words that MIGHT comfort Blue. He doesn't think he can fix this.]

I'm sorry, baby...

Just.

Don't.

I.

Just don't.

[Then he doesn't, silencing himself to hold on to Blue, and Blue can clutch him, if he wishes. Cori is careful not to knock the trumpet over nor even acknowledge its presence.]

[His left hand reaches to clutch Cori's shirt.]

I have to. I don't know. I have to sleep. Or stop.

[There's an edge of panic in his voice]

[And clutched he is, but Cori doesn't mind even if his fingers dig in.]

Then go to sleep. Go to sleep Blue, and I'll make sure you get it.

[Sleep he means, with the lightest kiss to his temple.]

[He nods, and he moves to curl back up onto the couch. He just lies there, but he's not sleeping. He doesn't know if he can sleep]

I'll be right here okay?

[Pulling a blanket up to Blue's chin, hiding his severed arm. It isn't that it's unsightly, but he wants to keep Blue warm, and he thinks just having it in sight might make the Fable uncomfortable.]

I'm not going anywhere.

[He nods again, and he reaches with the severed arm before he realizes he's done it.

He freezes and closes his eyes tight]

Okay.

[And that's when he kisses his closed eyes, left then right, neverminding the phantom gesture.]

It will be.

[He insists, and in the back of his mind he thinks of revenge.]

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