[ It's not until Dokja starts drinking that Eustace finally returns his attention back to the bag in front of him, though he can't stop himself from glancing over every few seconds even as he pulls a change of clothes out.
Watching Dokja recover from his own rebirth hadn't prepared him for how exhausted he would feel now, and even tugging on a shirt feels like a monumental effort despite how lightweight the fabric is. The only saving grace is that he's far too focused on Dokja to care about the ache deep in his own muscles. Aches and pains haven't killed him before and they certainly aren't going to now. Who cares about that when one of the most important people in his life looks ready to curl into a ball and erase himself from existence?
Even if they hadn't shared the same Aspect, it would be impossible to miss the misery that rolls off the other man in waves, a burden so heavy it seems to physically weigh him down. How much of it had been a result of the Oracle as a whole and how much of it had been a result of his death in particular? It's not a pleasant question to think about either way.
He's halfway through pulling on pants when Dokja finally pipes up with the world's smallest apology. His hands still at the unexpectedness of it all, the squint to his eyes growing deeper as his brows knit together. ]
...For?
[ He literally can't imagine what Dokja could possibly need to apologize for. ]
[ For...? For everything, he wants to blurt out. For not being there, for not doing enough, for not being enough. He feels so hopeless, so powerless, back to that average Kim Dokja who hadn't had an ounce of control in his life as he'd gone through its necessary motions. At least when the scenarios had started, he'd known how to navigate through its process. There's no script or tale to follow here, no roundabouts or cheats, no hidden objectives or a world that loved him enough to bend to his whims.
In the future, the chances of something like this happening again looms over his head, and he hates the unpredictability of it all. What if next time it's worse? What if there's no Shard to salvage? What if, what if, what if.
He's so frightened by the thought that he starts moving again, abandoning the water bottle to throw his arms back around Eustace, hugging him tight and not at all caring about his pants only being halfway on. Fuck, Dokja had never thought of himself as the kind of person to be clingy, but after the week he's had, he thinks he deserves this. ]
I should have never let this happen.
[ It's a stupid thing to say, but he can't help saying it. It's just so easy to slip back into old habits. ]
[ It's a miracle the two of them don't go toppling over as soon as Dokja launches himself forward. The sudden tightening of arms around his torso again has Eustace grunting in surprise, heels digging into the dirt as he tries desperately to maintain his balance. It's easier once he once he slings one arm back around Dokja, more out of a sense of comfort and reassurance than any real desire to hug. His thumb digs slightly into Dokja's back, tracing slow circles against the fabric there.
(RIP his pants, held up by his one remaining hand.)
Dokja's reactions are concerning on multiple levels, the brunt of Eustace's fatigue and malaise pushed far back in the wake of all this fear and uncertainty. Death is nothing to sneeze at, even with their Shards granting them a chance at continued life, but he's managed to come back whole and with all his memories intact. There's no reason for Dokja to be acting as panicked as he is. ]
You weren't responsible for what happened.
[ The only person able to lay claim to that would be himself, for being naive enough to fall for one of the labyrinth's tricks. ]
And you aren't resposible for my safety and well-being. None of what happened was your fault.
[ He hears the words Eustace speaks, understands what they mean, but Dokja can't bring himself to believe them. If he isn't responsible for the safety and well-being of his loved ones, of Eustace, then what worth does he have? He's tied so much of his existence into the lives of others in the hope of finding purpose somewhere, anywhere, that the idea of not lashing out at himself for this utter failure is inconceivable to him.
The hard lump in his throat from before returns, and Dokja can't muster up a response. He's not sure he even wants to be reasoned with right now, as childish as that is, and it is childish. He should be grateful to have Eustace back. This should be a happy occasion for the both of them, reunited after being apart for a week, but he can't find an ounce of that happiness anywhere. He's always been a pessimist, prone to be too critical of himself, even though he so often masquerades under the guise of foolish confidence.
All he does want is to take Eustace back home where they both belong.
But in order to do that, Eustace has to finish dressing himself. Once more, Dokja reluctantly pulls away, but not entirely. He keeps his arms loosely around Eustace instead, gaze turned downward to stare at the space between their feet as he waits for the pants to go on. ]
[ Thanks for letting him put on pants. Even if the smart move would be to keep them half-off forever so that Eustace can continue to grill Dokja over his abject misery.
Sometimes, it's useful to share the same Aspect with Dokja, and to know on an intrinsic level what the other man is feeling. Other times, like now, it feels like a monumental burden, a reminder of all the sorrow and guilt Dokja carries inside him that Eustace can't just wave away with a few simple words as much as he wants to. If it was as easy as just staying by Dokja's side forever and never dying, they'd have nothing to worry about. But he knows - and he's sure Dokja knows - that such a future is an impossibility. There are too many variables and too many things outside of their control.
In silence, he finishes putting on his pants. The next step is grabbing and pulling on shoes, but he doesn't have the heart to shake Dokja's hold off just yet. ]
Hey. Look at me.
[ Dokja may not want to be reasoned with right now, but Eustace has never been good at maintaining boundaries. ]
[ Can't believe we thought he was over his depression era.
His fingers tighten around the material of Eustace's shirt as the pants go on. All that jostling threatens to loosen Dokja's hold, but he won't let go. If Eustace had thought Dokja had been bad that first time he'd disappeared from Kenos, then oh boy, does he have a lot to look forward to once they return to Springstar.
And then the request to look at Eustace comes through, and Dokja's shoulders tense in response.
Imagine if he decided to be difficult about this, too. It would be so easy to default back to his usual brand of stubborn pettiness, but for once in his stupidly long life, he listens. He raises his exhausted gaze back up to meet Eustace's own, a faint light returning to his eyes now that the worst of the storm has been weathered. The close proximity seems to be helping, at least. ]
[ Guess it's time for Eustace to learn how to pee while Dokja stands watch at the door.
It would also be nice for Eustace to learn what to say to ease someone's bone-deep worries, but unfortunately that's going to take a few more years of practice. All he has now are his feelings, clumsy but true, and his penchant for channeling those feelings through his actions.
Now that his hands are free, he lifts them both up so he can settle them against Dokja's face, one on each side, thumbs brushing against his cheeks. They're close enough that it doesn't take much for him to lean forward and press their foreheads together, both as an anchor for him to hold onto and a display of comfort. ]
Please don't blame yourself for this.
[ No doubt the words are futile, the tiniest of buoys in the midst of a vast ocean, but he feels like has to try all the same. Dokja's suffered enough. They both have. If there's any way to move on from this, to recover from all the heartbreak they've gone through, then he'll give it his all to make it happen.
Though a good first start would probably be to leave the gloomy shadows of the Great Tree first. He sighs, letting his eyelids fall closed briefly. ]
We should get going.
[ Please let him put on shoes and socks so he can tiredly trudge the rest of the way back home. ]
[ When Eustace's hands come up to hold his face, Dokja immediately leans into the touch. And when Eustace presses their foreheads together, Dokja stills, soaking up the familiar warmth from their points of contact. He feels his heart stir, the same way it does every time they have a moment alone together like this, and then it softens at the request. Eustace could ask the world of him and Dokja would unquestioningly give it to him, so it's difficult now to try and deny him this.
The most he can do is give it an attempt. Not for his sake, but Eustace's.
Even so, Dokja doesn't pull away just yet at the prompting for them to get moving. Instead, he closes his own eyes and leans forward to press a lingering kiss against Eustace's lips, holding steady for just a moment before he pulls away to quickly turn his head to the side.
Despite all of his crying from throughout the week, it seems like he'd had a few more tears left to spare, and he wipes at them with the back of his hand as he finally shuffles aside, releasing Eustace so that he can put on his socks and shoes.
[ your tag was so gay and then you had to evoke feet
It's fine though, it's fine. Feet are a small price to pay for Dokja's valiant attempt at not self-sabotaging himself into the ground. The kiss helps too, and Eustace feels a little bit of his worries melt away. Trouble will eventually find them, as it always does, but surely they can weather through the worst of it together. (Surely…)
But first things first. It's goodbye feet, hello socks and shoes, both tugged on at a snail's pace as the ache of being reborn settles deeper into his bones.
Out of habit, he reaches for the bag once he's all dressed, ignoring his exhaustion to try and sling it over his shoulder. ]
His head turns back around right as Eustace reaches for the bag, and Dokja's instantly moving, his own hand grabbing the strap to pull it to him. He must look silly right now with his puffy, red eyes, but the way his eyebrows are scrunched together shows his usual stubborn determination. ]
What do you think you're doing?
[ His tone is scolding as he carefully shakes off Eustace's hand so that Dokja can sling the bag over his shoulder instead. With raw concern now pushing aside some of that depression, he can act a little more like himself again. ]
Personally he thinks it's abundantly clear what he's doing - getting their stuff together so they can leave? - but it's a testament to how tired he is that there's no pushback when Dokja grabs the bag from him, just reluctant acceptance as his hand drops down to hang by his side.
Still, he's not so tired that he can't walk the rest of the way back on his own two feet?? Let him keep a tiny shred of his pride. (Did he carry Dokja home when their roles had been reversed last time? Maybe, but that's not important.) ]
I can walk.
[ See! He'll even demonstrate by walking slowly away from the broken cocoon behind them. ]
[ They're too much alike in this way, and Dokja doesn't like it one bit. He frowns as Eustace moves at a snail's pace for the outside, and Dokja gives it a couple of seconds before he huffs out a breath and strides forward to step in front of Eustace's path.
There's no asking for permission here as he effortlessly scoops Eustace into his arms in a bridal carry. Dokja may look like stick and bones and zero sleep, but there's no denying his inhuman strength when he makes this look so easy. ]
It'll take us another week to get back home if you walk.
[ And he can't wait that long!! Anyway, he heads for the Cornerstone that'll take them back to Springstar. ]
[ He always forgets about Dokja's monstrous strength, especially when the man does his best to appear unassuming and bookish everywhere else.
It's a good thing Eustace is too tired to complain though, and outside of the brief moment where his entire body tenses in surprise he opts to accept his fate with grace otherwise, even going to far as to lean his head against Dokja's shoulder once they're both settled. ]
Fine. [ He's not happy about this (even if I am) but fine!! ] Don't push yourself too hard though.
[ Says the guy who just popped out of a cocoon after dying. He truly is in no position to be saying such things. ]
[ He'll push himself as hard as he wants to, thank you very much!!!
But when he feels Eustace lean his head against his shoulder, Dokja's heart does a funny little flip in his chest, and emotions start to well up in both his eyes and throat again. For now, all he can do is hold Eustace a little tighter to him, exhaustion forcefully shoved away so that Dokja can remain alert to safely return the both of them home.
Once they get back, Eustace is going to have the most helicopter boyfriend... Good bye and see you in the next one. ]
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no subject
Watching Dokja recover from his own rebirth hadn't prepared him for how exhausted he would feel now, and even tugging on a shirt feels like a monumental effort despite how lightweight the fabric is. The only saving grace is that he's far too focused on Dokja to care about the ache deep in his own muscles. Aches and pains haven't killed him before and they certainly aren't going to now. Who cares about that when one of the most important people in his life looks ready to curl into a ball and erase himself from existence?
Even if they hadn't shared the same Aspect, it would be impossible to miss the misery that rolls off the other man in waves, a burden so heavy it seems to physically weigh him down. How much of it had been a result of the Oracle as a whole and how much of it had been a result of his death in particular? It's not a pleasant question to think about either way.
He's halfway through pulling on pants when Dokja finally pipes up with the world's smallest apology. His hands still at the unexpectedness of it all, the squint to his eyes growing deeper as his brows knit together. ]
...For?
[ He literally can't imagine what Dokja could possibly need to apologize for. ]
no subject
In the future, the chances of something like this happening again looms over his head, and he hates the unpredictability of it all. What if next time it's worse? What if there's no Shard to salvage? What if, what if, what if.
He's so frightened by the thought that he starts moving again, abandoning the water bottle to throw his arms back around Eustace, hugging him tight and not at all caring about his pants only being halfway on. Fuck, Dokja had never thought of himself as the kind of person to be clingy, but after the week he's had, he thinks he deserves this. ]
I should have never let this happen.
[ It's a stupid thing to say, but he can't help saying it. It's just so easy to slip back into old habits. ]
no subject
(RIP his pants, held up by his one remaining hand.)
Dokja's reactions are concerning on multiple levels, the brunt of Eustace's fatigue and malaise pushed far back in the wake of all this fear and uncertainty. Death is nothing to sneeze at, even with their Shards granting them a chance at continued life, but he's managed to come back whole and with all his memories intact. There's no reason for Dokja to be acting as panicked as he is. ]
You weren't responsible for what happened.
[ The only person able to lay claim to that would be himself, for being naive enough to fall for one of the labyrinth's tricks. ]
And you aren't resposible for my safety and well-being. None of what happened was your fault.
no subject
The hard lump in his throat from before returns, and Dokja can't muster up a response. He's not sure he even wants to be reasoned with right now, as childish as that is, and it is childish. He should be grateful to have Eustace back. This should be a happy occasion for the both of them, reunited after being apart for a week, but he can't find an ounce of that happiness anywhere. He's always been a pessimist, prone to be too critical of himself, even though he so often masquerades under the guise of foolish confidence.
All he does want is to take Eustace back home where they both belong.
But in order to do that, Eustace has to finish dressing himself. Once more, Dokja reluctantly pulls away, but not entirely. He keeps his arms loosely around Eustace instead, gaze turned downward to stare at the space between their feet as he waits for the pants to go on. ]
no subject
Sometimes, it's useful to share the same Aspect with Dokja, and to know on an intrinsic level what the other man is feeling. Other times, like now, it feels like a monumental burden, a reminder of all the sorrow and guilt Dokja carries inside him that Eustace can't just wave away with a few simple words as much as he wants to. If it was as easy as just staying by Dokja's side forever and never dying, they'd have nothing to worry about. But he knows - and he's sure Dokja knows - that such a future is an impossibility. There are too many variables and too many things outside of their control.
In silence, he finishes putting on his pants. The next step is grabbing and pulling on shoes, but he doesn't have the heart to shake Dokja's hold off just yet. ]
Hey. Look at me.
[ Dokja may not want to be reasoned with right now, but Eustace has never been good at maintaining boundaries. ]
no subject
His fingers tighten around the material of Eustace's shirt as the pants go on. All that jostling threatens to loosen Dokja's hold, but he won't let go. If Eustace had thought Dokja had been bad that first time he'd disappeared from Kenos, then oh boy, does he have a lot to look forward to once they return to Springstar.
And then the request to look at Eustace comes through, and Dokja's shoulders tense in response.
Imagine if he decided to be difficult about this, too. It would be so easy to default back to his usual brand of stubborn pettiness, but for once in his stupidly long life, he listens. He raises his exhausted gaze back up to meet Eustace's own, a faint light returning to his eyes now that the worst of the storm has been weathered. The close proximity seems to be helping, at least. ]
no subject
It would also be nice for Eustace to learn what to say to ease someone's bone-deep worries, but unfortunately that's going to take a few more years of practice. All he has now are his feelings, clumsy but true, and his penchant for channeling those feelings through his actions.
Now that his hands are free, he lifts them both up so he can settle them against Dokja's face, one on each side, thumbs brushing against his cheeks. They're close enough that it doesn't take much for him to lean forward and press their foreheads together, both as an anchor for him to hold onto and a display of comfort. ]
Please don't blame yourself for this.
[ No doubt the words are futile, the tiniest of buoys in the midst of a vast ocean, but he feels like has to try all the same. Dokja's suffered enough. They both have. If there's any way to move on from this, to recover from all the heartbreak they've gone through, then he'll give it his all to make it happen.
Though a good first start would probably be to leave the gloomy shadows of the Great Tree first. He sighs, letting his eyelids fall closed briefly. ]
We should get going.
[ Please let him put on shoes and socks so he can tiredly trudge the rest of the way back home. ]
no subject
The most he can do is give it an attempt. Not for his sake, but Eustace's.
Even so, Dokja doesn't pull away just yet at the prompting for them to get moving. Instead, he closes his own eyes and leans forward to press a lingering kiss against Eustace's lips, holding steady for just a moment before he pulls away to quickly turn his head to the side.
Despite all of his crying from throughout the week, it seems like he'd had a few more tears left to spare, and he wipes at them with the back of his hand as he finally shuffles aside, releasing Eustace so that he can put on his socks and shoes.
Farewell, Eusfeet... ]
no subject
It's fine though, it's fine. Feet are a small price to pay for Dokja's valiant attempt at not self-sabotaging himself into the ground. The kiss helps too, and Eustace feels a little bit of his worries melt away. Trouble will eventually find them, as it always does, but surely they can weather through the worst of it together. (Surely…)
But first things first. It's goodbye feet, hello socks and shoes, both tugged on at a snail's pace as the ache of being reborn settles deeper into his bones.
Out of habit, he reaches for the bag once he's all dressed, ignoring his exhaustion to try and sling it over his shoulder. ]
no subject
His head turns back around right as Eustace reaches for the bag, and Dokja's instantly moving, his own hand grabbing the strap to pull it to him. He must look silly right now with his puffy, red eyes, but the way his eyebrows are scrunched together shows his usual stubborn determination. ]
What do you think you're doing?
[ His tone is scolding as he carefully shakes off Eustace's hand so that Dokja can sling the bag over his shoulder instead. With raw concern now pushing aside some of that depression, he can act a little more like himself again. ]
Let me carry you.
no subject
Personally he thinks it's abundantly clear what he's doing - getting their stuff together so they can leave? - but it's a testament to how tired he is that there's no pushback when Dokja grabs the bag from him, just reluctant acceptance as his hand drops down to hang by his side.
Still, he's not so tired that he can't walk the rest of the way back on his own two feet?? Let him keep a tiny shred of his pride. (Did he carry Dokja home when their roles had been reversed last time? Maybe, but that's not important.) ]
I can walk.
[ See! He'll even demonstrate by walking slowly away from the broken cocoon behind them. ]
no subject
There's no asking for permission here as he effortlessly scoops Eustace into his arms in a bridal carry. Dokja may look like stick and bones and zero sleep, but there's no denying his inhuman strength when he makes this look so easy. ]
It'll take us another week to get back home if you walk.
[ And he can't wait that long!! Anyway, he heads for the Cornerstone that'll take them back to Springstar. ]
no subject
It's a good thing Eustace is too tired to complain though, and outside of the brief moment where his entire body tenses in surprise he opts to accept his fate with grace otherwise, even going to far as to lean his head against Dokja's shoulder once they're both settled. ]
Fine. [ He's not happy about this (even if I am) but fine!! ] Don't push yourself too hard though.
[ Says the guy who just popped out of a cocoon after dying. He truly is in no position to be saying such things. ]
no subject
But when he feels Eustace lean his head against his shoulder, Dokja's heart does a funny little flip in his chest, and emotions start to well up in both his eyes and throat again. For now, all he can do is hold Eustace a little tighter to him, exhaustion forcefully shoved away so that Dokja can remain alert to safely return the both of them home.
Once they get back, Eustace is going to have the most helicopter boyfriend... Good bye and see you in the next one. ]