im back in that godforsaken ditch with the rock adn you and you tell me to
it'snot always you sometimes it's' ford sometimes it's my wife i can't remember her face i've lost it it's like someone took an erase r and smudged it out and there's just nothing
and what if n ow im going to dream every ngiht about her tearing me top ie ces
[Marco runs. His laptop stays behind, closed, not very long after he typed those words. He knocks once on Fiddleford's door out of courtesy, then slams it behind him.]
Fiddleford...
[For a moment, he's at a loss for words - or, perhaps more accurately, there are so many words in his mind that it feels paralyzing to try and pick a few.
Instead, he rushes to Fiddleford and throws his arms around him, clinging to him tightly.]
[The slam of the door makes him start (his laptop slips from his hands, slides down a loop of his coils, and flumps onto the bedsheets proper). His erratically flickering lights blink out entirely for a second or two. By the time it sinks in that it's fine, that it's Marco, the merman's arms are already around him.
He's shaking like a leaf. His heart is pounding like it's trying to burst right out of his chest. He doesn't even have the presence of mind to return the hug for a moment or two; he just leans against Marco and breathes.]
Thank you.
[It helps to know that Marco cares enough simply to be here, even if he can't really help. At least he doesn't have to face his memories alone. Haltingly he raises his arms and lets them settle around Marco's torso, hands pressed between his shoulder blades.]
[He is patting Fiddleford on the back, but his own heartbeat is almost as erratic as his. Even as he's sitting here, he can't stop thinking about that guard, about what they did, about how he almost, almost forgot the seriousness of what happened until someone else had to pay the price...
[They're almost funny, those words. 'We need help'. Of course they need help. Everyone on this damn peninsula needs help. A noise bubbles up in his throat that's some horrible hybrid of a laugh and a sob.]
I could build it. I -- I could. Give me time. I'd have to improvise some of it but I could.
Wh-- No. [Placing his hands on Fiddleford's arms, he pushes him away. He's shaking his head, moving his mouth before words actually come to him.] That's not... You're not going to build that gun. Do you understand? No memory gun. Y-You can't do that to your head.
[This time, Marco actually doesn't know. The way he deals with it himself doesn't matter, but Fiddleford doesn't deserve to suffer like this. The man's made his mistakes, no doubt, but he's sorry. He's suffered enough.
[His voice rises sharply in pitch at the end there and he winces. When he speaks again it's slow and deliberate, an effort to keep himself from sounding as shook up as he feels.]
I can't ... I can't do nothin' and just hope things'll somehow get better. They won't. You're smart, you oughta know that.
[It comes out more frustrated than defeated. His shoulders slump.]
There's no way to get at her and that's all that's keepin' her alive at this point because if I could get at her, Marco, I'd have already built somethin' to burn her and everythin' she's ever touched to dust and marched it right up to her doorstep.
[His hands clench into fists against Marco's back. This is the first time he's admitted to this, but it's nothing new. Even before Wendy told him about the robots he would one day build, he was designing similar things in his notebooks here to medicate himself through the crippling helplessness of his situation. He'd like to think he'd never actually raze Kulen to the ground just because that's where he acquired the parasite that's now wreaking havoc on his body. It was still therapeutic to design a robot that could do it.]
I know. [They both know; Fiddleford knows she's too powerful, Marco knows Fiddleford is a genius and an unexpectedly destructive one at that. He's seen the schematics.]
I remember people talking about... her heart... [He shakes his head and the rest of the sentence dies in his throat, because he doesn't know how to finish it. That's all he remembers.
His head hurts and he's tempted to rest it on Fiddleford's shoulder. He'd better not. Things got awkward enough last time.]
W-We'll find a way. We will show her... We'll show her...
[His hands slowly, slowly relax against Marco's back and he lets out a long breath. For a long, long moment he's quiet, just breathing, trying to get himself under control and swallow back the angry heat behind his eyes. He's run the gamut through an awful lot of emotions just now and eventually it evens out into just feeling exhausted.]
Would you mind stayin' with me a bit? I don't... I don't particularly want to be alone right now. If I'm alone there'll be nothin' to stop me thinkin' about it.
[Marco has to hold back a dry, tired laugh. That's a feeling he's intimately familiar with.]
I'll stay as long as you want me to.
[As long as he wants him to, as close as he wants him to. Marco knows there's no chance his feelings will ever be reciprocated, and he does sincerely hope he gets over them soon.
But regardless of that, he just wants to do whatever he can for Fiddleford.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cw: implied suicidal ideation
That's it, isn't it? He's done so many terrible things, it's only fair if retribution comes his way.]
I don't know
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ther has to be something i can't live with this marco i thought i could survive here without the ray but i can't
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We can get through this together, okay? Calm down. Calm down you don't need the ray
You don't need it.
You're safe now. You said it yourself, you're safe.
this is absolutely an addiction metaphor so cw for that too from this point on
I dream about killing you still. ia ct like it's fine because it was what you wanted but it's not fine
it's not fine i need it
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What
?
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it'snot always you sometimes it's' ford sometimes it's my wife i can't remember her face i've lost it it's like someone took an erase r and smudged it out and there's just nothing
and what if n ow im going to dream every ngiht about her tearing me top ie ces
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I'm in the arcade right now.
Are you in your room? Where's your room
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The door's unlocked
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Fiddleford...
[For a moment, he's at a loss for words - or, perhaps more accurately, there are so many words in his mind that it feels paralyzing to try and pick a few.
Instead, he rushes to Fiddleford and throws his arms around him, clinging to him tightly.]
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He's shaking like a leaf. His heart is pounding like it's trying to burst right out of his chest. He doesn't even have the presence of mind to return the hug for a moment or two; he just leans against Marco and breathes.]
Thank you.
[It helps to know that Marco cares enough simply to be here, even if he can't really help. At least he doesn't have to face his memories alone. Haltingly he raises his arms and lets them settle around Marco's torso, hands pressed between his shoulder blades.]
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[He is patting Fiddleford on the back, but his own heartbeat is almost as erratic as his. Even as he's sitting here, he can't stop thinking about that guard, about what they did, about how he almost, almost forgot the seriousness of what happened until someone else had to pay the price...
She's winning.]
We need help.
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I could build it. I -- I could. Give me time. I'd have to improvise some of it but I could.
[Because that's what Marco means.]
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[His voice wavers. He knows Marco's right, but he's feeling just a touch desperate right now.]
What else can I do? What other choice is there?
[Yeah, he sure is still panicking a little. Just a hug is not going to be enough to calm him down.]
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Marco takes a deep breath.]
We have to believe.
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[His voice rises sharply in pitch at the end there and he winces. When he speaks again it's slow and deliberate, an effort to keep himself from sounding as shook up as he feels.]
I can't ... I can't do nothin' and just hope things'll somehow get better. They won't. You're smart, you oughta know that.
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[He averts his eyes, looking at his own knees instead. Of course Fiddleford wouldn't like he that. He has to act.
Marco likes that about him.]
I know it's not enough, b-but it helps. He's trying to help. He's... He's doing all he can, he is, but she's... She's too powerful.
[He repeats, in a whisper meant more for himself than for Fiddleford:] She's too powerful, she controls too much.
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[It comes out more frustrated than defeated. His shoulders slump.]
There's no way to get at her and that's all that's keepin' her alive at this point because if I could get at her, Marco, I'd have already built somethin' to burn her and everythin' she's ever touched to dust and marched it right up to her doorstep.
[His hands clench into fists against Marco's back. This is the first time he's admitted to this, but it's nothing new. Even before Wendy told him about the robots he would one day build, he was designing similar things in his notebooks here to medicate himself through the crippling helplessness of his situation. He'd like to think he'd never actually raze Kulen to the ground just because that's where he acquired the parasite that's now wreaking havoc on his body. It was still therapeutic to design a robot that could do it.]
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I remember people talking about... her heart... [He shakes his head and the rest of the sentence dies in his throat, because he doesn't know how to finish it. That's all he remembers.
His head hurts and he's tempted to rest it on Fiddleford's shoulder. He'd better not. Things got awkward enough last time.]
W-We'll find a way. We will show her... We'll show her...
... You know.
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[His hands slowly, slowly relax against Marco's back and he lets out a long breath. For a long, long moment he's quiet, just breathing, trying to get himself under control and swallow back the angry heat behind his eyes. He's run the gamut through an awful lot of emotions just now and eventually it evens out into just feeling exhausted.]
Would you mind stayin' with me a bit? I don't... I don't particularly want to be alone right now. If I'm alone there'll be nothin' to stop me thinkin' about it.
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I'll stay as long as you want me to.
[As long as he wants him to, as close as he wants him to. Marco knows there's no chance his feelings will ever be reciprocated, and he does sincerely hope he gets over them soon.
But regardless of that, he just wants to do whatever he can for Fiddleford.]