Title: Glass: Scrap #1
Fandom: Viridian Legacy: Glass
Characters: Sin, Severen, Arkady
Rating:T" width="32px" /> (L1 N0 S0 V1 D2)
Warnings: suicidal ideation, referenced past self-harm, panicked late-night phone calls (of the sort we’ve all gotten), strong suggestions of future mind-control, and beer as a first choice for self-medication.
Notes: No title. I don’t even know. I don’t even think this is done, but I kind of can’t sleep, so I rolled over and wrote this. I can barely read the damn screen. Sebastian demands to be boring and have a pleasant upper-middle class existence, when he’s Sebastian. Unfortunately, reality occasionally refuses to comply, and Arkady is… well, Arkady.
Boring-ass Sebastian Lindstrom reached over his sleeping — reached over Sin — to answer the phone. It was one of those unspeakable hours he tried to avoid, when he was trying to be uninteresting.
"Mmmwhat?" he snarled into the receiver, voice thick with sleep.
"Sev — Sebastian, I can’t do this. I can’t–" The voice choked off in a stifled sob, but Sebastian was already on his feet.
"You call me in the middle of the night, and you call me Sebastian? What’s wrong?" Sebastian’s quiet, trying to get dressed and keep up the conversation without dropping the phone or waking Sin. "Talk to me Evan. Just keep talking to me. Is there beer? Have a beer."
"Had a beer. Had a few more beers. It’s not helping. I can’t sleep. I can’t make it stop." His voice seemed distant, distracted, and that was terrifying for Sebastian. This wasn’t how these things were supposed to go. Evan was supposed to cry and then call Betty. If he was getting the call, then it was something Evan didn’t want her to see.
"Is the bulk of your blood still inside your body?" It was the first thing Sebastian needed to know. He grabbed his keys from the top of the dresser, and then realised he had no way to get there if he kept Evan on the phone, and no way to keep Evan on the phone while he travelled.
"I’m… yeah. Yeah, it has to be. I don’t see any of it on me. Just…" he trailed off.
"The hands. I know it’s not real. I know it’s not possible." The panic started to bleed into Evan’s words, and Sebastian nearly sighed with relief. Good. Panic was what he wanted to hear. Panic meant this wasn’t shock. "They just keep touching me. I can’t sleep. It doesn’t stop!"
"Listen to me. I’m going to be there as fast as I can. Your neighbours can deal with me when I get there." Sebastian leaned over the bed and regretfully shook Sin awake. "You remember the solo from Divided Girl? I want you to play it. And when the phone rings? Answer it. It’ll be Sin."
Sebastian tried to convey as much as possible to his half-asleep lover without words. He pointed to his chest, then to the door, then made a wrist-slitting motion. Sin held his hand out for the phone.
"My neighbours are going to kill us both." A nervous humour crept into Evan’s voice.
"Your neighbours will cope. I will speak with them, if I must, when I arrive, but right now, if I am to get to you, I need to call a cab. Play drums. Keep the phone near you." He spoke as he once had to his students, a throwback to the one time he was something like in complete control of a situation for any length of time. The tone brooked no argument, but it was Evan.
"Sev, what am I going to say to–"
Sev. There. Back to normal.
"If Sin can protect me from them, he can hold yours at bay, if you let him, at least until I get to you." The ‘Trust me, I know what I’m doing.’ is implied.
"Call the cab." Evan swallowed audibly. "Just– just get here. I’m so sorry, but that can wait."
"I’ll be there." Sebastian hung up the phone, and explained as quickly as possible, while finding the number for the cab company.
"He’s not bleeding." That was the important thing. It answered the question that hung, unasked, between him and Sin. "It’s bad. Do you remember how much he doesn’t like people touching him? They’re touching him."
He didn’t specify a ‘they’. He didn’t have to. Sin knew.
"Do you want me to fix it? Do you want me to take it away from him?" Sin asked. "I can’t promise, but…"
Of course. Sin already knew how to get into Evan’s head. "Don’t you need to be with him to do that?" Sebastian asked, dialling the cab company.
"I don’t know. I probably can’t do it right, but… Maybe I can push a little, get him down." He talked a girl off the top of a building, between classes, when they were still in college. This, though, over the phone? He wasn’t sure he could make a difference.
Sebastian held up a finger and rattled off the pertinent information to the dispatcher. A few more questions, and then he hung up.
"Don’t break my little brother," he told Sin, the uneasiness tightening the corners of his eyes.
"I didn’t break mine." No offence taken, just a statement of fact.
Sebastian stared for a long moment, poised between horror and curiosity. "You never told me you bent your brother, just your parents. Later. You will tell me this story later, when I am not rushing off to prevent a funeral."
He tossed the phone to SIn, and headed downstairs, the first few words of another conversation following him.
"Evan? Hey, man, it’s me. I heard you’re having a rough night. You want to tell me about it? … Yeah, yeah. He’s on his way. He’s outside waiting for a cab…"
The door closed with a soft click.
This was what proper family were for, Sebastian thought.