A bruised facade [Dominic and Cadmus]

By the time Cadmus had found his way back to the headquarters, making his way through the sparsely lit streets of what he would never really come to think of ‘his city’, he no longer had any sense of what time it was. Late, probably. Definitely. While he had avoided looking at his watch, as if the lack of knowledge could prevent a reality from settling in, he knew as much. It was way past the time one could be expected to come home sober. It had not been a long meeting. They never were: One had but to look at Cadmus’ face to be reminded of how little joy either party found in the arrangement. At this point, a wiser man would have given up. And at the same time, a wiser man would have prepared himself for whatever would meet him when he got home. If not tonight, then at least tomorrow, when he would have to have come up with some excuse for what was certainly going to develop into a black eye. He didn’t think of that. Didn’t think anything really. He had briefly considered finding somewhere to get a drink, but had thought better of it. Tonight was not the time for reviving old vices, and he had a place to go: home.

He was still immersed in some illusory realm of timelessness when he let himself into the apartment. There was no scramble of keys, for he had but one, and the only sound was the click of the lock turning. Inside, he was met with darkness and, apart from what was the regular breaths of whom he supposed to be a sleeping Gwyn, a relieving silence.
A part of him had worried about the potential of someone staying up, but he was spared the inconvenience of coming up with a lie just then.
When he had locked the door behind him, he took off his shoes, wanting to make as little noise as possible, and, picking them up, carefully made his way through the living room, the occasional moonlight peeping through the blinds lighting it up just enough for him, to not bump into anything.
He kept the light turned off, even when he had entered the hallway and had closed the living room door behind him.

Of course, Dominic couldn't sleep. He hadn't expected to do so. In general, he had trouble sleeping recently, with too many thoughts in his head and restless energy in his body. The night after the interview he had slept surprisingly well, falling asleep instantly as he closed his eyes and waking up the next morning without any dreams to remember. His theory was that he had been so exhausted up until the interview with that being the climax of his stress, that he couldn’t do anything but sleep afterwards. It had been with a slight relief that he had gotten up the next day, actually feeling well-rested for the first time in weeks, but that relief had lasted just as long as his feeling of rest – barely a moment. New refugees had showed up at their door, asking for asylum at the HQ, but there was no more room. So Dominic had spent the day contacting different allies, figuring out cheap ways to get mattresses as a temporary fix and called May, the leader of the Sanston’s EFA HQ, to figure out a new way to help the Nachon Warlocks flee Ilomar, now that they couldn’t ship them to Ydisia. A stressful day with the added layer of worry over the fact that Gwyn was out to lunch with Cassius in Erast. The thought hit him every now and then during the hours they were gone, followed by the worry about if they were safe and if Gwyn would be able to apologize to Cass without messing it up even more. Those worries were followed by an even greater mix of complicated thoughts and feelings as he then would remember Gwyn’s hug and how he both had hated, loved, feared, and wanted it. And after those moments with all these thoughts had passed, he had needed to go back to work yet again, and that good night of sleep was quickly forgotten.

And of course, Dominic couldn’t sleep now. Not with such a stressful day, and not with the realization that tomorrow would be the day that the article would be posted. He had been so stressed out and focused – and somehow also distracted – during the day, that it was only when he had lied down in bed, not to sleep but to read some articles on his phone before sleep, that the realization hit him. And then he couldn’t read any articles nor could he even try to fall asleep. Instead he had spent the hours contemplating, thinking back to the interview, trying to remember what he and Cadmus had said word by word. He even tried rereading some of Irene Ford’s other interview articles to try and predict what the article would say. But obviously Ford had never written an article like this before; not even her most controversial piece could resemble anything like the article she would post tomorrow. When Dominic realized this, and when he saw on his phone, that the time was 02:18 AM, he decided to try and get some sleep – while knowing it he would be unsuccessful.

He got up from his bed and put the phone back into his pant pockets. He hadn’t even gotten out of his clothes, still wearing grey sweatpants, a black t-shirt and socks, so he didn’t have to put on more clothes before leaving his room to take a piss before going to bed for real this time. Thinking that no one would be up, he quietly opened the door to the dark hallway, but just as he did, he knew he wasn’t the only one there. Dominic’s Nachon powers were almost too weak and unused to even be called powers, but in the dark like this, his mind too tired to block them out, they did grant him with an intuition, that made him instinctively aware of the presence of another spirit. Dominic tensed up from the feeling, still in the doorway, his hand clenching around the handle. However, that only lasted a second, as the feeling was replaced with his view of the familiar silhouette standing in the hallway.

“Cad?” Dominic asked confused while keeping his voice low. He let go of the door handle to find the light switch on the wall next to it, turning on the light in his room to indirectly light up the hallway. “Why are you up so la-“
For a second, he froze, his heart dropping to his stomach. The hallway now being lit enough for Dominic to see Cadmus properly revealed his face, the area around his eyes reddish and slightly darkened, swollen just enough to look distorted.

Dominic’s face darkened. What for a second had been surprise was now a determined anger. “What happened?” he asked Cadmus in a way that demanded an answer. He pointed towards the bruise before lowering his hand again, turning it into a fist. “Who did this to you?”

He had only taken a few steps, carefully rounding the first corner of the hallway, his free hand running along the wall to keep track of where he was, eyes slowly adjusting to the dark, when the faint click of a handle being pressed down, and the subsequent noise of a door opening, made him freeze. The soft light of the never fully dark city night, lent itself through the tiny window somewhere around the next corner of the corridor to his left, enough for Cadmus to make out the silhouette of the door to Dominic’s bedroom, now ajar.

For a second or two he just stood there. Unmoving, unintentionally holding his breath. He was dimly aware that he should make up an excuse, an explanation, for his standing there in the dark, or that he should at least make his presence known. With every heartbeat the slim chance that Dominic might not have noticed him was disappearing. Surely the other man would have moved by then, to the bathroom, probably, if he had not suspected the company. Instead, he too had been surprised. It seemed apparent that neither man had expected anyone else to be up. Once again Cadmus wondered what time it was, and this time also; why Dominic wasn’t asleep. Only then did he remember the article. The result of the interview would be posted tomorrow, or, he supposed, later that day. Preoccupied with Acheron’s demands, Cadmus had barely had time to worry about what Irene Ford might choose to make of their words. They had done their part, and it had gone fairly well, but it was the job of a journalist to twist their words into a narrative. They weren’t safe yet. Since his deal with Acheron was all sorted, at least for now, he supposed he owed the EFA some attention too. There were, after all, reasons enough for Dominic to stay up all night worrying. Cadmus had never thought of himself as, nor wanted to be one of them, yet here he was, a light switch away from becoming one.

Dominic spoke his name. A quiet, half-question, that removed any chance of slipping past him unnoticed. Letting go of the wall Cadmus ran the hand through his hair. Who else, really, would it be? Still, surely, there were plenty of reasons why he would be up this late; he might have been out. People did that. Went out, got drunk… Got into fights? He blinked. Without much of a warning, Dominic had switched the light in his room on. The light hit the man in the doorway from behind, keeping his face in the shadows, but the sudden change of expression was visible nonetheless. Cadmus was not sure how he looked. But probably not pretty. He took a couple of slow steps forward, not quite sure what to do, it was not that bad. It had only been one hit. It probably looked a whole lot worse than it felt. What happened Dominic demanded to know, with an anger Cadmus knew not to be aimed towards himself, but towards whoever had hit him; Who did this to you? Even if he was not the target of this anger, it was still frightening. How lucky it was for Acheron, that Dominic couldn’t read Cadmus’ thoughts. He looked ready to kill someone. Acheron didn’t really deserve that. It had, after all, been Cadmus’ words that had provoked a reaction. He had told a terrible truth and this had been the result. But he didn’t think Dominic would understand.

”Someone hit me,” Cadmus shrugged, trying to make it sound like this was a normal occurrence. It was Erast, after all, fights did happen. ”Most likely, someone disagreed with something I said or did, and thought this would be the appropriate way to show it.” He was standing about two metres from Dominic at this point, where the corridor bent, knowing his bedroom door was only a few metres away, not wanting to look at it, to look like he had something to hide. ”It’s nothing, really.”

Dominic's heart pounded in his chest as he took in Cadmus' response. He couldn’t believe his own eyes as Cadmus shrugged off the incident as if there was nothing to worry about. Nothing to be angry about. Well, Dominic was angry. He was furious. All this time he had been worried for Gwyn and Cassius, when he should have been worried for Cadmus. He was a Nachon Warlock after all, the one with the most risk of running into someone who didn’t care for him as nothing more than an outlet of hate and prejudice. Dominic had let himself forget this fact and look what now had happened. His friend was hurt. Even though he claimed that it was ‘nothing’ with only spiked Dominic’s anger.

“This isn’t nothing, Cad,” he said, harshly, as if he was scolding him, which in a way he was. Cadmus shouldn’t dare thinking this was nothing. That was only a stepping stone into thinking he was nothing as well.  
Dominic felt a rushing need to do something, as if there was actually something that could be done. In actuality, it was too late to do what he wanted to do; he wanted to protect Cadmus or at least to punch back whoever had hurt him. But it seemed that the aggressor was just a stranger, only the bruise on Cadmus’ face left as a sign of his existence. Dominic didn’t know if that made this better or worse. He decided on worse – it was very much worse than a random bypassed could feel enough hate towards Cadmus to want to act out on it.

In frustration over his own feeling of powerlessness, he shook his head. “I can’t fucking believe this. Did you put ice on it?” His tone switched instantly between those two sentences, the latter encompassing more of his worry towards Cadmus, a hint of softness as well. Dominic had a tendency to explode with anger, making it appear aimless, especially when the true target was out of reach. But he wasn’t angry with Cadmus, not at all. Not even by him trying to brush off the attack. Dominic understood why he would feel this way. They had been made to feel this way.
Dominic was already out of his room, ready to walk into the kitchen to get something cold out of the freezer. While he took a few steps into the hallway, passed Cadmus on his way, his glance didn’t waver from him. His eyes kept examining the bruise, frowning with worry.

It was impossible to filter out Dominic. The small hallway was charged with the fury of the other, seeping off him like dirt from a boot stepping in a puddle. Like filth it clung to the walls. Layers of grime, built up by the very words that had sought to clean away the mess. This isn’t nothing, Dominic scolded, and Cadmus fought the urge to shrug again. He should have known; Probably had known; Telling Dominic not to worry, would be redundant. Anyways, it was too late now. So was regretting letting himself grow so comfortable on a foundation that could never last. Who was Cadmus to act all holy now? To pretend to care? The decision to stick around had always been selfish. It had been inevitable that this life too would someday come crashing, that it would hurt when it did, still; his initial exhaustion and relief… The subsequent fear of once again being on his own… How little the unhappiness of a handful of strangers mattered. Only; Dominic was no longer a stranger. And to deny this invitation to anger meant dismissing the feelings of a friend. Standing there in the suffocating corridor Cadmus would remain calm and unaffected, he could keep telling himself it was nothing, at least compared to what it would be like were Dom ever to know the truth.

The truth was too fragile a thing. It had to be carefully protected. There never had been much of an alternative. What was he to have said? What lie could he have told to convince Dom? At least he seemed to believe in this one, and was it really a lie? He had said something, someone had gotten mad, he had gotten hurt, the end. It was even such a slight hurt compared to everything else, only it was physical, so it looked worse.

Cad found it harder to keep Dominic’s frustration, his lack of control, from affecting him. It was after all, more familiar, and so it disguised itself better as his own.
Had he put ice on it? The sudden change in tone caught him off guard, and the confusion must have shown. He had expected his lie to be challenged, and this sudden affection, which he didn’t deserve, was just another gut punch. “There is no need,” Cadmus said as Dominic walked past him, and he took the opportunity to step in the other direction, away from Dominics unwavering stare. “Please don’t wake up Gwyn for this. I am okay, it barely hurts.”

Dominic had asked Cadmus a question with the expected answer being either 'yes' or 'no'. Instead, Cadmus replied 'there is no need'. The man wouldn't even cooperate by answering his question, more intent on brushing it aside, pushing it away. Not only that, but he had also done so after seemingly being confused by the question itself. As if Dominic hadn't been expected to ask the question, despite it being exactly a kind of question Dominic would ask in a situation like this. Then again, he had never been in such a situation with Cadmus. He hadn't even considered that he might have to ask him such a question, so maybe that was why it had puzzled Cadmus.

If it had just been those two imperceptible pointers that something was off, Dominic wouldn't have taken note of it. But then Cadmus took a step away from him, avoiding his gaze. As if he wanted to get away. To either hide or run.
Slowly, Dominic stopped on his path towards the door, turning to face Cadmus fully again. His gaze still showed worry, but with a tug on his eyebrows, the object of his worry changed. A subtle but unmistakable sense of wrongness gnawed at his gut. Why was Cadmus so adamant on getting out of this conversation? This question blended with Dominic's look of worry when he examined his friend. Not the bruise on his face, but his evading eyes.

The pit in his stomach grew heavier. Could it be that Cadmus was pushing Dominic away, because Dominic was being too pushy himself? It wouldn't be the first time Dominic had experienced this with others. He had even tried being on the other side of such a dynamic; not wanting to have his vulnerable moment extended by another person's worry. Cadmus was a private man – maybe this was too exposing, too visible, with the ceiling light from Dominic’s room illuminating what he might not would have wanted anyone to see. Not even Dominic. Which Dominic couldn’t blame him for – he might be his leader, but he was still his equal. Cadmus wasn’t a refugee, he was just as much the guardian of the Nachon Warlocks on the run as Dominic was. Dominic might want to protect Cadmus just the same, but Cadmus was in no way obliged to welcome that protection. As long as he didn’t harm their group, Cadmus could receive as many black eyes as he wanted to without having to ask for help.

Dominic’s mouth became a straight line, as he forced himself to stop. Not in his steps, as he was already standing still, but in his fury. It was still rushing through him, but the tight pit in his guts held it back from lashing out of him.
"Fine.” His voice was tense, as if he was physically holding back the words he’d rather say. “As long as you're okay.”
It was clear that he didn’t believe Cadmus’ words of being okay. But he also understood that this wasn’t about being okay. Being okay wasn’t a realistic criterion to meet. Instead, his words worked as an indirect request, a requirement before he could – before he wanted to – let it go. Cadmus didn’t have to tell him everything. But he had to make it clear that he was ‘okay’ – not as being okay, like he had just said, but as in he had it under control. That he didn’t want Dominic to interfere. And that Dominic didn’t need to.

Dominic’s steps ceased, and Cadmus, who was standing now in front of Dominic’s bedroom, turned around to face him. Had his plan been to prevent Dominic from going to the kitchen and waking Gwyn, he had succeeded, at least for now. The last thing he wished, was for her, or anyone else really, to start asking questions or get all worried. Dominic’s worry was enough. In this way, he felt, he had finally regained some control over the situation; standing still, the light hitting him from behind, he felt less exposed. Only a couple of steps away from his bedroom door, and the sanctuary offered by thin walls. Not that it mattered. Dominic had already seen. And he was only fooling himself if he thought he would be able to hide it from everyone else. But he needed time. Preferable time where he wasn’t so damn tired, to figure out how he was going to handle this. Assuming he even had to; with Irene’s article tomorrow and everything, surely there would be more pressing matters. It would blow over. It had to. Especially since Cadmus wasn’t usually someone, as far as Dominic or the others knew, to get into trouble like this, they could forgive him this once. Stuff happened, life went on. Why did Dominic have to make such a big deal out of it? No one had heard from Fallon in a week, and no one seemed to think that odd? Of course, that was Fallon, but still? Why should coming home once with a black eye be a big deal? They were criminals damn it! And of course, he hadn’t put any ice on it; he wasn’t even aware that it was a thing you did!
So many thoughts were running through Cad’s mind, as he watched Dominic watch him, keeping still, trying to breath and remain calm. So many feelings; it was hard to be sure where Dominic’s ended and he began; was the annoyance his own? The shame?

Then the expression on Dominic’s face changed, and Cad’s heart skipped a beat; what might have been initial relief turned cold, tightening; a knot around his heart. Was it suspicion, that look with which Dominic now looked at him? Feeling exhausted, he rubbed the unbruised side of his face, what had he said? He tried to run through his words and actions in his head, he tried to figure out what he had said to warrant this; nothing. He really had done his best, hadn’t he? Nothing, he thought, apart from his appearance –and that in itself was rather suspicious– might have given away the truth. Suspicion of what then? He knew what Dominic felt; could feel it too: something was off. Of course it was. But how could Dominic know?

Dominic, whose nachon powers everyone kept forgetting about; who was the head of an organisation fighting for nachons, and still; so ashamed of his own powers. Cad was lucky, really, that his friend had never really learned to use his powers, or he wouldn’t have been able to keep up the lies. Dominic, whose eyes he could feel burning into him, but could never really see.
The shame, probably, was his own; made worse by the fact that Dominic was onto something; that he was indeed lying. How much deeper this ran, than the bruise itself. It was the ugly truth, unable to hide behind pretty lies. Lies? Weren’t it more just a case of omission? Sure; he felt bad for Dominic, bad that he had to feel bad for him, when he had never done anything to deserve it, had never even wanted it, but there was nothing to do about that now. Pushing Dominic away was the only thing he could do. The least painful thing. He probably should have tried harder, done a better job. This way Dominic was only going to be the more disappointed in him, when he learned the truth.  

Finally, Dom seemed to let it go; Cad realised he had counted on this all along. Even then, it looked like it took Dominic some mental strength. Part of the reason why he had stayed at the EFA so long was their policy when it came to help; if he didn’t ask for any, no one was going to force him to open up. It was very much a no questions asked, kinda place, and for that he was grateful. Sometimes there was nothing you could do. This was one of those times, and at least Dom seemed to understand. Some people, Cadmus thought of Achron, were beyond help, and he himself might just be one of those too.

Dominic said fine, reluctantly, in a voice that very much claimed otherwise. As long as you are okay. Laughable, Cad thought, even if he understood what Dominic meant; okay in a sense that this was something he could handle on his own; okay as to promise him this; okay meaning; no need for help - no need for worry. “Yeah, I am okay.” He repeated, tiredly. Okay, in this meaning of the word, wasn’t a lie. He had handled Acheron for years now, on his own. He was sure he could keep it this way.  “At least for tonight.”

Cadmus had turned to face him again, but Dominic had still seen how his eyes had avoided him. The light from his room hit the man’s back, shadowing his face, but Dominic had still the clear image of the darkening bruise. Dominic stood tense, not in his usual confrontational stance, but as a tightly coiled spring, as if he was bracing himself for his friend’s reply or more so how his gut feeling would react to his reply. Dominic had not enough energy or insight to reflect over why this felt like a determining moment between the two. He just felt it, and he wished for Cadmus to answer quickly, so this moment could be over.

Cadmus answered, saying that he was okay, at least for tonight, which was an honest addition to his reply. It sounded like the truth, and Dominic couldn’t – wouldn’t – do anything else but believe him. Yet, the sense of wrongness kept gnawing inside of him despite of Cadmus’ honest reply, in a way that almost made him feel guilty. Cadmus had never before proven to be untrustworthy – even with his secrets, which were allowed to stay his –, and he didn’t deserve Dominic’s mistrust in him in a situation, that didn’t even involve the leader.
He was just tired, Dominic told himself, and the gnawing grew in its persistence, he was just in his head about everything else. That wasn’t Cadmus’ fault. Nor was it Cadmus’ fault that someone had punched him.

The tension in his body eased off, as he settled into a more casual stance, that resembled less a spring and more a steady pillar.
“Okay. Good.” There wasn’t much more to say. There was no more to discuss. Cadmus was okay. At least for tonight, and that’s all he had to promise Dominic.
Dominic’s glance turned away from him as his need to examine him disappeared. Instead, he looked towards the door to the bathroom, his initial reason for leaving his room in the first place.  
“I’m getting ready for bed,” he said, sounding more relaxed – more tired – as the anger left his body. “Let me know tomorrow if you have time to talk. About the article.” He added the elaboration, so Cadmus knew that Dominic had moved on from this situation. Or at least was adamant on doing so.

He turned towards the hallway leading towards the bathroom. Before walking away, he took a quick look at Cadmus again. Bruise or no bruise, this wasn’t a situation that would feel natural for Dominic to smile in, but his expression had softened a bit, showing exhaustion but not anger. “Night, Cad,” he said to his friend, before he let him be and walked to the bathroom to get ready for another sleepless night.

It felt like an act of betrayal. Witnessing Dominic dismiss his own concerns, when he had every right to them. Was correct in every doubt, had no reason to feel guilty for them. It was knowing he was the cause of his friend’s guilt that was the hardest for Cadmus to shake off. He had created a fiction, and it had cemented itself so well. Acheron was right, he’d said something earlier that week, what was it? The only difference between you and me is that I don’t pretend to be something I’m not. I know I’m the worst. You, though. Well, right then he was fully aware. And it stung. How could it not? He watched how Dominic convinced himself to trust him, how this conviction made him seem to relax. It was horrible. He was horrible. But at least it meant end of discussion. And with that, the atmosphere seemed to change, to ease up.

The hallway no longer seemed to be closing in on them; the light behind Cad felt less like a spot. Dom would get ready for bed. So should he. The night had been going on for long enough. For once he didn’t look upon a night of dreams with terror. Let me know tomorrow if you have time to talk. Talk? Oh, about the article. He nodded. “Of course, goodnight.” He turned away from Dominic towards his own room. Towards home, he supposed, a sanctuary at least. When Dominic had gone to bed, he could take a shower and scrub off the grime of a damned night in a damned city. Then he would sleep.