[ there has been no shortage of lost, wounded souls among the Aion in Horos. it is something Abel has begun to see as time drones on; some made it readily and glaringly apparent, their suffering dramatic and even outright violent. some were better masked, better used to bearing that agony behind facades and (albeit unhealthy) coping mechanisms. some had been so injured they were numb to the pain they were in entirely, able to walk, to talk, to smile convincingly despite the atrophied state of their insides.
suppose Abel is learning which category Dokja is falling into among them.
Dokja looks at him like a frightened child who's desperately afraid of having done something wrong or a cornered animal that has been beaten one too many times. it breaks the priest's heart all over again, but Abel's smile is smooth, steady. that is what Dokja needs, right now-- not someone to lament his woes and cry over all the things he hasn't allowed himself to mourn. but instead... what he needs now, is... ]
You live.
[ ...what he needs now, is... ]
If thinking about what to do five minutes from now is too hard, then... let's settle for three. If three is too much, let's settle for one. If one seems overwhelming - let's just sit here 'til you decide. Eventually, you'll get hungry, or thirsty-- or maybe you'll decide you're tired, Dokja. So we'll get something delicious to eat you haven't had before... or maybe we'll share a cup of tea together before it gets cold. Or, maybe you'll sleep off the headache behind your eyes, wake up to find that the world isn't quite as painful as it was when you last closed them. We can live one moment at a time, for now. You don't need to have everything figured out; I mean it. Taking that pressure off your shoulders... maybe it will let you breathe 'til you find what you're looking for.
[ It's such an exceptionally simple answer, but it's an answer that he needs to hear. He had tried to convince himself of the very same thing, but the frequency of the way he'd balk or drop his defenses enough to let the doubt creep in had effectively broken down his reasons.
However, what comes next is something he hadn't really considered. Whenever the idea of living had come to mind, it had always been for others. The sake of others. In particular, the handful of people that Dokja has come to love. He had never once thought of living for himself, for the day to day of what might come for him. It had always been chapter updates, then the story, then the characters, then... the people.
"You don't need to have everything figured out."
Doesn't he?
Isn't that... how he'd gotten this far? Doing everything on his own, planning every step of the way forward, poring over the finest details to make sure things would go according to the blueprint? Ah, his head hurts. It hurts in a different way, makes it clear there's an emptiness present that will never go filled. Never... Never...?
Why couldn't this new memory, this one with Abel who is trying so hard for Dokja's sake, go there...? ]
What I'm looking for... [ he murmurs as he echoes the sentiment. And then there's a shift in his gaze, as if realizing what this all means. ] I can take my time finding it. Like you said.
[ Abel watches this slow revelation, this meander toward an epiphany with hope budding in his chest. he knows that this is a deceptively simple task: to live can be an arduous task for someone who's suffered, who's lost loved ones, who's lost pieces of themselves. it can even be cruel to ask someone to keep going in light of those losses, but--
this is what Abel's asking, the path he's offering. even so - it is in Dokja's hands, now. whether he takes it, whether he decides he can move on from here or remain static, trapped in an old and ugly cycle is entirely up to him. ]
...The best way to find what's worth living for is to live. So... please let yourself live, and let the rest go for a while. Maybe it will help bring back some of those things you thought were gone forever. Our hearts have a way of remembering things our minds forget, I think.
[ It's a lot to consider. A lot to think about. Dokja ducks his head once again to stare at his fingers, a habit he's picked up since arriving in Horos, and distantly thinks back on all that time spent miserably in the subway train he would know to be his home for... an eternity, it feels like.
He'd slowly unmade himself there, unraveled his existence, and would have achieved an end had it not been for his sudden arrival here.
And while he's never thought of it as a second chance, he wonders now if there's... more he can do.
Nothing comes to him immediately, but he heeds Abel's words and stores that gentle guidance in his heart. He's never had anyone talk to him like... this. Never given anyone an opportunity to, if he's being honest. But again, it's a lot to think about, and he wants to give it the careful consideration it deserves.
For now, all he can do is nod mutely. He still feels like his insides have been carved out, and the heavy presence of guilt doesn't fade, but this... It's a start. ]
[ Abel won't pretend he has all the answers; he won't pretend that any of the ones he's offered are even good ones. despite the confidence in which he's let all this leave him this morning, this subject is... delicate, fragile - and frightening, isn't it? without all the pieces of Dokja's life, without knowledge of his circumstances, there's no way to know if it's right or wrong. (would Abel even know one from the other himself? ...he has never been a good judge of these things. he doesn't possess Esther's ability to say the right thing at the right time, nor Caterina's level-headed, charismatic ability to know what one must do to carry on.)
but seeing that hollow gnaw in someone he cares for... even if it's clumsy and even if he makes a wrong step, Abel knows he has to try.
he can see this conversation has been thoroughly exhausting; he can see Dokja needs some time to absorb, to lick his wounds, to put himself back together again in whatever way he can. so... he shifts his weight gently, drawing the blankets a bit further up and trying to goad the other man to lay back down again. ]
...Maybe that nap is a good idea. Suppose I might be able to find one of those aforementioned delicious things to eat by the time you wake up, mm?
[ Dokja goes back down without a fuss, gingerly placing his still aching head against the pillow and sighing once he's lying down. Like this, he can feel his body and mind respond to the lull of sleep, eyelids growing heavy with each passing second. He's not accustomed to being able to doze off easily, his racing thoughts and the lurking nightmares chasing away any rest, but it seems as though he's long passed the point of exhaustion and his body is in desperate need of replenishing the sleep reservoir.
But before he can slip away into a much needed unconsciousness, Dokja settles a tentative hand against Abel's wrist. ]
... Thank you.
[ For this, for before. He practically has to choke out the words, voice shaking with the effort. He's never known how to respond to someone caring about him, always just filed it away as a debt to be repaid, but.
This time, it feels too impossible for Dokja to return this favor. ]
[ like tucking a sickly child into bed, Abel's drawing the blankets up around Dokja once the other man has settled comfortably among the pillows - or, as comfortably as one can get when they must feel like one walking bruise. sleep really is the best thing for him, and hopefully having some tiny comfort in the fact he isn't alone will be enough to see him off to rest a bit more peacefully.
Abel hesitates where he had been about to straighten when that hand touches his wrist-- and that soft gratitude, hoarse but so terribly earnest, has a tiny smile tugging at his lips. ]
Please rest well, Mr. Dokja.
[ there is no need for thanks, but he will accept it because... just this once, he thinks Dokja needs him to.
wouldn't be terribly surprising if his ward were asleep before Abel had time to collect two tea mugs and head to the door, hm... ]
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suppose Abel is learning which category Dokja is falling into among them.
Dokja looks at him like a frightened child who's desperately afraid of having done something wrong or a cornered animal that has been beaten one too many times. it breaks the priest's heart all over again, but Abel's smile is smooth, steady. that is what Dokja needs, right now-- not someone to lament his woes and cry over all the things he hasn't allowed himself to mourn. but instead... what he needs now, is... ]
You live.
[ ...what he needs now, is... ]
If thinking about what to do five minutes from now is too hard, then... let's settle for three. If three is too much, let's settle for one. If one seems overwhelming - let's just sit here 'til you decide. Eventually, you'll get hungry, or thirsty-- or maybe you'll decide you're tired, Dokja. So we'll get something delicious to eat you haven't had before... or maybe we'll share a cup of tea together before it gets cold. Or, maybe you'll sleep off the headache behind your eyes, wake up to find that the world isn't quite as painful as it was when you last closed them. We can live one moment at a time, for now. You don't need to have everything figured out; I mean it. Taking that pressure off your shoulders... maybe it will let you breathe 'til you find what you're looking for.
no subject
However, what comes next is something he hadn't really considered. Whenever the idea of living had come to mind, it had always been for others. The sake of others. In particular, the handful of people that Dokja has come to love. He had never once thought of living for himself, for the day to day of what might come for him. It had always been chapter updates, then the story, then the characters, then... the people.
"You don't need to have everything figured out."
Doesn't he?
Isn't that... how he'd gotten this far? Doing everything on his own, planning every step of the way forward, poring over the finest details to make sure things would go according to the blueprint? Ah, his head hurts. It hurts in a different way, makes it clear there's an emptiness present that will never go filled. Never... Never...?
Why couldn't this new memory, this one with Abel who is trying so hard for Dokja's sake, go there...? ]
What I'm looking for... [ he murmurs as he echoes the sentiment. And then there's a shift in his gaze, as if realizing what this all means. ] I can take my time finding it. Like you said.
no subject
[ Abel watches this slow revelation, this meander toward an epiphany with hope budding in his chest. he knows that this is a deceptively simple task: to live can be an arduous task for someone who's suffered, who's lost loved ones, who's lost pieces of themselves. it can even be cruel to ask someone to keep going in light of those losses, but--
this is what Abel's asking, the path he's offering. even so - it is in Dokja's hands, now. whether he takes it, whether he decides he can move on from here or remain static, trapped in an old and ugly cycle is entirely up to him. ]
...The best way to find what's worth living for is to live. So... please let yourself live, and let the rest go for a while. Maybe it will help bring back some of those things you thought were gone forever. Our hearts have a way of remembering things our minds forget, I think.
no subject
He'd slowly unmade himself there, unraveled his existence, and would have achieved an end had it not been for his sudden arrival here.
And while he's never thought of it as a second chance, he wonders now if there's... more he can do.
Nothing comes to him immediately, but he heeds Abel's words and stores that gentle guidance in his heart. He's never had anyone talk to him like... this. Never given anyone an opportunity to, if he's being honest. But again, it's a lot to think about, and he wants to give it the careful consideration it deserves.
For now, all he can do is nod mutely. He still feels like his insides have been carved out, and the heavy presence of guilt doesn't fade, but this... It's a start. ]
no subject
but seeing that hollow gnaw in someone he cares for... even if it's clumsy and even if he makes a wrong step, Abel knows he has to try.
he can see this conversation has been thoroughly exhausting; he can see Dokja needs some time to absorb, to lick his wounds, to put himself back together again in whatever way he can. so... he shifts his weight gently, drawing the blankets a bit further up and trying to goad the other man to lay back down again. ]
...Maybe that nap is a good idea. Suppose I might be able to find one of those aforementioned delicious things to eat by the time you wake up, mm?
[ 'it's going to be alright.
just keep moving forward.' ]
no subject
But before he can slip away into a much needed unconsciousness, Dokja settles a tentative hand against Abel's wrist. ]
... Thank you.
[ For this, for before. He practically has to choke out the words, voice shaking with the effort. He's never known how to respond to someone caring about him, always just filed it away as a debt to be repaid, but.
This time, it feels too impossible for Dokja to return this favor. ]
no subject
Abel hesitates where he had been about to straighten when that hand touches his wrist-- and that soft gratitude, hoarse but so terribly earnest, has a tiny smile tugging at his lips. ]
Please rest well, Mr. Dokja.
[ there is no need for thanks, but he will accept it because... just this once, he thinks Dokja needs him to.
wouldn't be terribly surprising if his ward were asleep before Abel had time to collect two tea mugs and head to the door, hm... ]