recoveringdreamer

[recoveringdreamer]

TIMING: current. LOCATION: the boiler room. PARTIES: felix and leo. SUMMARY: while felix is sick in bed, leo comes to talk to them about the future. it’s not a future felix would have chosen, but when has that ever mattered?  CONTENT WARNINGS: domestic abuse, emotional abuse, insinuations of animal abuse

Leo didn’t knock. This wasn’t a new development, because Leo never knocked. Even when Felix lived with him, even when they were together, when they were in love, Leo didn’t knock. Felix was always expected to, of course. Felix had to knock, to ask permission, to tiptoe on floors made of eggshells that they prayed wouldn’t break beneath their feet, but Leo went where he wanted to go and did what he wanted to do with little regard for anyone or anything else.

He’d rationalized it, of course. Felix, Leo said, was a wild animal. They had sharp teeth and deadly claws, had blood dripping from their maw and grave dirt caked beneath their fingernails. Felix needed to knock, to ask, to tiptoe for everyone’s safety, for everyone’s well-being. And Felix couldn’t deny that he was right when they could still taste iron on their tongue, when all they had to do was look at their hands and see the ghost of a shallow grave clinging to the cracks of their palms to prove Leo’s point. Felix was a wild animal, and didn’t that make Leo the brave soul who’d taken him in? Weren’t there versions of this story where he was the saint and Felix the sinner?

So Leo didn’t knock, and Felix never said anything. Leo came and went as he pleased, and Felix danced across eggshells that were never going to hold their weight forever. It was probably what they deserved, anyway; the grave dirt under their nails was still there, no matter how many times they’d washed their hands.

All this to say that when the door opened with no knock preceding the screeching of the hinges, Felix knew who to expect. There were so few people who visited him here, anyway, and Wyatt always rapped his knuckles gently on the metal door, and Thea always called out softly. Anita never came by without texting first, Teagan — Teagan wasn’t going to visit them anytime soon, if she ever visited again. In a way, not knocking was Leo’s way of announcing himself. Just like Wyatt’s quiet raps or Thea’s lilting voice or Anita’s preemptive texts, they told Felix exactly who to expect the moment the door was opened.

They shuffled on the mattress, pulling their blanket tightly around themself in preparation. The cold they’d caught from the dunk in the lake hadn’t quite left them yet. The cough clung to their lungs, growing worse at night and keeping them awake with its stubbornness. They thought they probably would have recovered by now if not for the Grit Pit’s policy against sick days; shifting every night and fighting whoever the Pit put in front of them certainly wasn’t doing their ragged body any favors, allowing little room for them to properly expel the fluid from their lungs or break the fever that came and went. 

It was stupid, the way this all embarrassed them as Leo pushed the door open. Like this display of weakness was some intentional thing, like they should know better than to let it shine through in a place like this. It was a coin toss, whether Leo would berate them or feign sympathy. In all honesty, Felix often preferred the former. It was less confusing when Leo was cruel. It made it easier to forget that Felix had loved him once. It made it easier to forget that sometimes, in the darkest, most pathetic corners of their mind, they loved him still. 

They lay still on the mattress, waiting to see which version of the man they’d get tonight. They watched him approach the bed, watched him run his fingers down the frame that Felix and Wyatt had put together in the middle of the night, with dinner packed away into Tupperwares and Squonkella fumbling around at their feet. Part of them wanted to tell Leo not to touch it; part of them was afraid to say anything at all. As always, the more cowardly part won out, and Felix only watched.

“This is new,” Leo observed, smacking a hand against the bed. It was hard enough to rattle the frame, to send vibrations uncomfortably into Felix’s skull. They closed their eyes. Most of the vertigo that came with the sensation was the imagined kind; they knew that.

“The old mattress got, um… messed up by some — some rats. And I wasn’t — I mean, it fits in here, and nobody ever said I couldn’t — I just — sleeping on the ground wasn’t really —”

“Jesus, would you relax?” Leo sounded irritable, and Felix flinched instinctively, mumbling an apology even if they weren’t entirely sure what they were apologizing for. Leo’s face softened, and the nausea that tugged at Felix’s gut probably wasn’t entirely due to the flu they were having trouble kicking entirely. He moved to sit on the mattress, running a finger idly up Felix’s leg beneath the blanket. Felix didn’t pull away, even if they wanted to. They knew it would only get more uncomfortable if they did. “You look like shit, babe.” He sounded genuine, though the expression of concern didn’t meet his eyes.

“I’ve been sick. It’s not — I mean, I’m fine to fight. I just… I’ve been sick.” They weren’t fine to fight. Leo knew it as well as they did, could probably tell just by looking at them. But what good would saying it do? At best, it would piss Leo off. At worst, it would make him vindictive enough to pack Felix’s schedule even more, and that would get them nowhere they wanted to be. With Leo, Felix had learned it was better to pretend to be whatever he wanted them to be. The problem, of course, came with figuring out what it was he wanted. Sometimes, Felix wasn’t sure Leo knew himself.

Leo’s hand lifted from Felix’s leg, found his forehead in a touch that was something masquerading as gentle. And Felix was stupid, was a coward, was a lost naive child who had never known what was good for him, so he leaned into the touch just a little. Leo’s hand was cool; they hadn’t realized they were hot until they felt it. The hand pulled away, moved down to cup his chin and tilt his head back so that Leo could look them in the eye with a quiet tsk. “Probably have a fever,” he hummed. Felix thought the illusion of kindness might continue; it didn’t. Instead, Leo pulled his hand back and clicked his tongue. “I’ll let Quinn know to update the odds. You’ll probably still win, but Longtooth might get a bite out of you first.”

Felix crumpled against the mattress, closing their eyes and nodding. He said it so nonchalantly, as if their body wasn’t already aching in anticipation of the aftermath of that bite their opponent was sure to take out of them. “Is that all?” They muttered the words in a way that was almost irritable; they thought Anita might have been proud, if she’d heard it. “I was going to try to get some sleep before the fight.”

“Actually, no.” One eye cracked open, and it took all Felix had not to cry. Couldn’t the conversation be over? Wasn’t it enough that they felt how they felt? They weren’t sure they could stomach the twists and turns that came with attempting to navigate a discussion with Leo, especially not on a night like tonight when Leo himself didn’t seem to know whether he wanted to be cruel or kind.

“If this is about next week’s schedule…” They trailed off, hopeful that Leo might take the hint and go, as if he’d ever grant them such a kindness. True to his nature, he made no move to leave. Instead, he smiled. It was sharp and twisted and showed a few too many teeth, and Felix felt their stomach drop.

“Something like that. I wanted to talk about your future.” 

Hope was a dangerous thing. It flittered in their chest like a butterfly, tickled their lungs and escaped between their lips with a quiet cough. They’d dreamed of the day Leo cut them loose from the Pit, envisioned it so clearly in their mind. They’d always been so sure he wouldn’t keep them forever. Wildcat brought a decent audience, but he wasn’t the most impressive fighter in the Pit. He was a headliner, sure, but he didn’t have quite as many fans as some of the shifters who put on more of a show, the ones who were enough themselves when shifted to give the audience more of a thrill. Felix was a foolish optimist; they’d always hoped that they might be freed someday, even if the logical part of their mind had known from the moment Leo trapped them that it was an impossible dream. But logic was locked behind the fever burning through them now, and they felt more like a child than they had in a long time. Leo wanted to talk about their future; part of them was sure that was a good thing.

It only got worse as he continued: “I know you’re not happy here, Fe. I know you’re miserable. You don’t like the boiler room, you don’t even really like the town. And I care about you. I always have. You know that.” His hand moved down to rest on Felix’s shoulder, his thumb at the pulsepoint in their throat. “I hate to see you unhappy, baby.”

(Was that true? It wasn’t, was it? After everything, it couldn’t be. But Felix wanted it to be true, even now. They wanted Leo to be the boy they’d found in the woods fifteen years ago, wanted him to be the person who’d guided them back to society and shown them how the world had changed. It hadn't been perfect back then — Leo never knocked, and Felix lived their life on eggshells — but it hadn’t been this, either. Felix wanted, so badly, for it to be anything but this.)

Feeling brave, Felix scrambled to sit up a little. “If — If my contract is over, could — Can I negotiate for Wy — for Lockjaw, too? Because he doesn’t belong in this —” 

A sharp laugh cut them off, and their mouth snapped shut. Dread pooled in their stomach, nausea tugged at their gut. The thing wearing the mask of gentleness had discarded its mask now, had twisted itself back into an uglier, truer shape. Leo smiled; Felix’s world was a marble between his thumb and his finger. They knew he wouldn’t hesitate to flick it somewhere far, far away. 

“Who said your contract is ending? Baby, do you know how much money you make me?” The thumb against their pulsepoint increased pressure to something uncomfortable, and Felix swallowed against it. Leo’s smile only widened. “No, no. The Pit’s not in the business of letting go of its big ticket items, babe. But I want you to be happy. I do. That’s why I pulled some strings.”

Felix wished he’d just say it already. Whatever terrible thing he was teeing up, whatever earth-shattering news he was lovingly preparing to deliver, Felix wished he’d just do it. The anticipation was suffocating, sticking to their throat like a bitter syrup. They knew that was the point. Leo had always liked to draw things out as long as possible. They wanted to settle back into the mattress, but Leo’s grip on their shoulder reminded them that they needed his permission first, and they were too tired to ask it. They stared at him, waiting patiently to have the rug pulled out from under them.

They didn’t have to wait very long.

“You and me are taking this show on the road, babe.” 

He was still grinning. Felix’s brow furrowed as they tried to unpack it, tried to understand. Maybe if they weren’t sick, maybe if they weren’t stupid, maybe… But they were who they were, and they needed more of an explanation. They always needed more of an explanation. “Uh… what?”

Frustration flashed across Leo’s face. The hand on their shoulder tightened until it went from uncomfortable to painful, though Felix knew better than to make a verbal protest. “God, sometimes I almost forget how stupid you are.” All the warmth was gone from his tone. Felix knew to stay quiet. When Leo spoke again, he spoke slowly, as if he was speaking to a child or an animal. “Me and you are leaving Wicked’s Rest.”

“Wh–” They stopped themself from repeating the word, from enraging Leo further. “I mean… where are we going? Doesn’t… the Grit Pit need us — me — to stay?” Their heart was a jackhammer in their chest; they knew Leo could feel it in their throat. They didn’t fully comprehend what he was saying, but they knew it wasn’t something they wanted. His glee was enough to show them that.

“Oh, the Grit Pit definitely needs you. But, the thing is, the Grit Pit needs fresh meat, too. And Wicked’s Rest has a real shortage of that lately. Between idiots getting themselves killed and people getting the fuck out of town, the spring’s a little dry. So I floated a new idea: a traveling recruitment show!” He grinned again, free hand waving in excitement. Years ago, Felix would have found it cute.

“And I’m — I have to go with you?”

“You get to go with me. Don’t be ungrateful, Fe. This is a great opportunity for you. I mean, you’ve never even left this town, and now, you get to go all over! Sure, you’ll be working, but you’ll still get to see the world. Maybe you’ll even make some new friends!” His eyes drifted to the bedframe; Felix got the feeling he knew that it hadn’t been bought or constructed by just one person. Felix got the feeling he wasn’t particularly happy about that knowledge. 

Was that a part of it, they wondered? Was Leo so bitter and angry that Felix had made a friend in the hellhole he’d trapped them in that he had to find some way to take it away, to take it all away? The idea of traveling the country alone with Leo, far away from the friends they’d made in Wicked’s Rest, made their breath catch. They thought again of Wyatt’s knuckles rapping faintly against the door, of Thea’s voice calling out gently to them, of Anita texting them plans. They thought of Kieran, insisting they have fun even when they couldn’t fathom it. Of Jade, including them in things even when they were nervous about it. They’d only managed to survive in the Grit Pit for this long because they had people holding them up. What hope did they have without that?

“I don’t — I’m not ungrateful, I just — Don’t you think I’m more — more profitable in Wicked’s Rest? Don’t you think —” 

It was lightning fast, the way Leo’s other hand moved to grip their jaw. It was tight and painful, cutting their protests off at the knees. They couldn’t move their mouth, couldn’t continue their barrage of excuses. Leo’s eyes burned, and his expression was so stormy that it was difficult to remember he’d been smiling only moments before.

“I’m sorry for phrasing this in a way that made you think you had a choice,” he said lowly, the words sounding more like a growl than a sentence. “You don’t. This is happening, Felix. Thanks to your good manners, I’ve got plenty of ways to make sure you come along if you want to do things the hard way. But you know that kind of thing makes me… grumpy. And you’ve got a few fights left before we leave. I know you don’t want me shifting the schedule around, do you? Lockjaw’s got a fight tomorrow, I think. I’m sure his handler wouldn’t mind swapping out his opponent. Do you think he’d go easy on you? Something tells me the kitty cat wouldn’t go easy on him.” He moved the hand from Felix’s shoulder to tap hard against their chest. 

Felix swallowed, taking a deep, shuddering breath and shaking their head. “No,” they said quietly, the dryness in their throat and Leo’s grip on their jaw making it difficult to get even the single syllable out of their mouth. “No, please. I — I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Leo. I didn’t mean it.”

It was a familiar dance. How many times had they said those words, in that order? They used to come with I love you on their heels, the three words like an apology all their own. Was it better or worse that they’d dropped them now? Did this kind of cruelty hurt less from someone you used to love than it did from someone you still slept beside at night? Felix wasn’t sure they’d ever know for certain; they weren’t sure Leo would let them. 

In any case, the words worked now just as well as they had back then. The grip on their jaw loosened, Leo’s hand dropped. The smile was back, twisted and sharp as it had been before. “That’s what I thought,” he said pleasantly, getting to his feet. “We’re leaving next week. I’d tell you to pack a bag, but God knows you don’t own anything worth keeping.” His gaze fell to Squonkella on the floor, lip curling up in disgust. “And that thing isn’t coming. Let it loose in the woods, drown it, I don’t care, but it’s not getting in my car.” He turned on his heel, moving back towards the door and pausing in its frame. “I’m so looking forward to traveling with you, Felix. I think we’re going to have a great time.”

He departed with little fanfare, leaving the door standing open behind him. Felix looked out into the empty hall, the world closing in around them all at once. Curling into a small ball, Felix wondered how the prospect of the whole world before him could feel smaller than the cramped boiler room he’d come to tolerate. He thought of the people he’d be leaving behind and choked on a sob. 

They’d figured the boiler room was rock bottom, but they should have known better. In places like this, with people like Leo… there was no hole that couldn’t be made deeper. 

[recoveringdreamer]

I don't think I've seen that one. Who's in the cast? There are definitely a lot of movies out there that [...] aren't as good as some others. But people still worked hard on them, so I try not to be too critical! I bet Regan would like it, though. [user has genuinely no idea what regan would like.] I'll totally watch that, yeah.

[pm] It looks like [...] there are less legs now?

Exactly! Personally I'm a big fan of Race to Witch Mountain (2009), I defo think people slept on it. Have you seen it? That cast was stacked for no reason, it's hilarious. But totally, you need some true duds before you can find the best dubs. And isn't that just so true for life also? Probably. I don't know too much about duds irl. You'll hear all about it. Maybe I'll propose that for movie night, I'm trying to get Regan to enjoy live animals. Like, in movies. It was super weird, but the best part was that they were a hundred percent committed to it and I think that's beautiful. Oooh! You should really watch Riverdale. It's just the best of times.

[pm] That's all we can do right now, bud <3

[recoveringdreamer]

[pm] It's not your fault. I just [...] wanted you to know. You know, that you're not the worst person here as bad as you think you are.

I used to think the future was worth fighting for. You know? I used to think we'd get out of here one day. I don't know. I don't know if I think that anymore. But I'm glad I've got you, anyway. I love you, too.

[pm] Fuck, Felix. I'm so sorry. I know it's hard. I know nothin' I say is gonna magically make you forgive yourself. Just... if you wanna talk about it, we can talk about it.

I just... I worry. About the future. However much of one we got left. Don't think I'm gonna-- It was fun, n' I was happy to spend it with you. You're my best friend, too. I love you.

[recoveringdreamer]

My [...] what?

There are worse things, sure. But I don't think you have to worry. I think the important thing is that she knows she's loved. That's all kids want. And I can't imagine she doesn't know that, with you. I don't even know you very well, but I can tell how much you love her.

I think you are. I wish my dad had been like

I don't know about expert, but I've had plenty. And I'm willing to try whatever. I just want to be useful to someone.

Oh...

And you and your halitosis are...happy... with that decision?

Stubborn yes, but I worry if I let it get too far, I'm not doing my part as a parent to guide her in the right direction. But then, of course, there is the worry of being too overbearing. Is there anything worse than a helicopter parent?

Ugh, there is no clear answer. Oh, she's incredibly smart. Alarmingly so, actually. You know what, you're right, perhaps I'm doing this parenting thing perfectly after all.

Okay, perhaps I wouldn't mind that. Do you consider yourself an expert on the subject. Are you willing to try... chicken nuggets as well? Tomato ketchup? Sauerkraut?

[recoveringdreamer]

[pm] [...] I killed my friends. A few months ago, at a party. Some people came in and I shifted, and I killed my friends. Nobody made me shift. Nobody forced me to do it. I just [...] did it. I don't know what's worse than that.

You're not bad at showing it. You're a good friend, too. Thanks for hanging out with me the other night. I know it probably wasn't much fun, but it meant a lot to me. [...] You're my best friend, you know?

[pm] Can't be as bad as the people I hurt on purpose, outside the Pit.

You been a good friend to me, Fe. I just want you to know that. Please don't ever doubt it, even if I get bad at showin' it.

[recoveringdreamer]

[pm] Oh. [user is just now realizing that demons are real. despite not being human themself, this shocks them. user needs to sit with this one for a moment.] What's the most of our worries?

[pm] The legs belong to a giant demon. You know how people who touch the legs are getting cursed? That is literally the least of our worries. People are working on it, but I'm just trying to get innocent people out of the way. That's why we're doing this!

[recoveringdreamer]

A lot of the best ones went straight to VHS or DVD, definitely. Some of the best sequels were like that! Also some of the worst, I guess, but I think it balances out. You'll have to tell me what you think, when you watch it. Oh. That's [...] a little weird. I haven't seen Riverdale, either. Maybe I'll try it. Probably not. I'm not very smart. Yeah, maybe!

[pm] I'll try to be.

Totes. And like, they did use to make a buncha live action movies, that are real gems. Cause usually if it went straight to VHS or DVD you knew you had gold in your hands. I'm so watching the second, don't you worry about it. Oh, that show was a wild ride, you can't take it too seriously, the family tree was more like a wreath. Eveybody was someone's granny or son or... I miss that craziness. The only thing that's come close since it's Riverdale, IMO. Hey! Maybe this is how you start passing tests.

[pm] Youre gonna be so helpful <3

[recoveringdreamer]

[pm] They were never going to let you not fight him. There was too much money on the table, and that's what they care about. [...] Things I do on accident [...] outside the Pit, then. People I hurt who [...] didn't sign up for it. What about that?

Okay. I'll see you at seven, then! But if you don't want to hang out all night, or if you've got somewhere else you need to go before midnight, that's all right, okay? I know you're supposed to ring in the New Year with the people you really like, not the ones you just feel sorry for.

[pm] Not their fault, just mine. I could have tried harder. If you're gonna hold yourself accountable for the shit you do on accident, then I'm gonna hold myself accountable for the shit I could have prevented.

Well hey, that's the beauty of it, babe. You don't have to be good at it. And we ain't goin' anywhere loud or crowded, don't worry about that. It'll just be you n' me. I'll come get you at seven, we gotta get some grub first.

[recoveringdreamer]

I haven't been. Clubs aren't really [...] something I'm good at. But the owner seems nice, so it's probably worth a try! It seems like they have a lot of events and stuff there, too.

A club, huh? Have you been? Is it worth a night out? Is it crowded?

[recoveringdreamer]

Yeah! Don't you?

Oh no! Maybe [............] Dawn dish soap? That's what I washed [........] my cat with when I he got fleas.

And you think worms are cute?

I'm glad you're alive and good news; they don't kill you I guess. The little jerks have been all over me. Any idea on how to get rid of them?

[recoveringdreamer]

[pm] Oh. How can a leg be evil? It's just a leg, right? Does it have a brain? Is it sentient? [user has forgotten that the legs are probably attached to something because of the sheer number of unattached leg-shaped problems in town lately.]

[pm] Great! Okay, so then this is me letting you know that the legs are not vibing, they are super evil, and this giant jar of mayo is aiming to distract people so they get away from the legs.

[recoveringdreamer]

Sorry. I didn't mean to not listen to your advice or anything! I appreciate you giving me advice.

Suck it, then.

[recoveringdreamer]

Okay. If you really want to, I mean, you can. But you don't have to! If you end up having less soup than you thought you did or anything, you shouldn't waste it on me!

Honey, I'm offering. It wouldn't be putting me out, I promise. Besides I have like three quarts of it in my freezer. You should take at least one, if not two. I'm terrible at cooking for just one.

[recoveringdreamer]

[pm] If I hurt people, I deserve to feel it. Right? I shouldn't be allowed to get away with not feeling it. It wouldn't be fair. But Samir was [...] the Grit Pit's fault, right? Not yours, not really. You told them you couldn't fight, and they didn't listen. You tried. You did.

As long as I'm there before someone shows up in the morning, it should be okay. But [...] I'm not exactly good at going out. And I've been sick. What if I get you sick? We both know you'd have more fun without me...

[pm] [ user sighs ] I know. I get what you're sayin', really, I [...] still have a lot of [...] guilt over Samir. I just... I don't want that for you. I know it's biased, but you're just the last person on this earth what deserves to feel like that, and I wish you didn't have to. That's all.

I'm sure. The boiler room is fine, n' we can just end the night there, yeah? You got a strict curfew, too?

[recoveringdreamer]

Happy New Year, Charlie Brown (1985) dir. Sam Jaimes & Bill Melendez

[recoveringdreamer]

[pm] I need to be accountable, Wyatt. Somebody needs to be accountable. If I lose control, and people [...] die, that's my fault. I should be better. I want to be better. It isn't fair to the people I hurt to just decide it doesn't count.

[...] Only if you're sure. I know the boiler room isn't a really fun place to be, and I'm [...] not good company lately. Or ever, probably.

[pm] You keep sayin' that, but I ain't ever seen it. I know you. You wouldn't willingly hurt someone, Fe, you can't hold yourself accountable for all that shit. If it's an accident that don't got nothin' anyone can learn from it, then there's no point in carryin' guilt over it. I mean, everyone carries some guilt for shit that weren't their fault but... you're bein' way too hard on yourself.

[...] [ user feels terrible about this, fuck you bex ] You kiddin'? You're the funnest person I know! 'Course I wanna spend it with you.

[recoveringdreamer]

Oh, I mean, sometimes they do! It's just I've been working every night, so I can't really This one's just stubborn, haha.

Don't those usually just pass? [user has never gotten a human cold]