The Stains Beneath Our Skin [mxm] ✔

35.3 | Drink Down Your Veins

CW: Gore (various)

"Why do I always forget?" Like why the fuck did Cain have to break alone? Maybe it was just another cruelty, but with Ella sitting at the doorstep of delusion with her obsession... She talked like Casper was more her villain than Cain.

But Cain shrugged. His cheek rubbed against Casper's hair and his breath was cold and ragged, clammy against the shell of Casper's ear. "I suppose they intended it that way."

No... Casper scuffed his foot against the floor. Just wasn't right. "Why did I feel as if I remembered you anyway? Trust me, I don't play nice with yuppies the way I played nice with you."

"I don't know, Casper. What does it matter?"

It did matter. Somehow it seemed like nothing in the entire fucking universe mattered more. Like some ponderous weight balanced on a string, and if Casper didn't give it the last shiver then this was it. This was them forever. Casper pulled free of Cain's arm and let his feet carry him pacing along the grass. Birds twittered up in the trees, the song dancing between beams of sunlight.

It was kinda annoying when he was trying to think. 'Cause his head sure as hell didn't work right anymore even when he wasn't using

"Like you three are all sorcerers, right?" Casper stood still and scratched under his beanie. The grey smear on the grass seemed to squint back at him. "I'm the only one who's not, so maybe it's hitting me different. Seems like a pretty huge factor, right?" Casper glanced back at Cain, waved his hands about even though dickhead wasn't even looking 'cause it'd always kinda made him feel smart. "Like, shit, magic, man – that's such a huge difference. Like, Jack didn't even mention it, but I have no clue how he could write off what you did on the street. I just had to feel that cold and I—"

"Feel it?"

Well that sure got his attention. Thank fuck. Broken Cain was so sick wrong that Casper might have given up, broke right alongside him if he wasn't so pumped on adrenaline from all this crap.

Still waving his hands about, Casper paced. Every time his toes edged the rotting ooze Cain had made of the grass, he turned on his heel and crunched back across the charcoal. "Well yeah. It's fucking freezing, and Levi's like getting in a sauna with like jizz all over the rocks or something. You know, super gross and way too hot. I seriously don't know how Jack could write off how that felt."

"That's because it's not supposed to feel like anything, Casper. Not to you."

Oo-oh.

"And..."

Cain stepped forward. His face had gotten all sharp now, incisive eyes pinning Casper down and his hand planted on his hip, fingers tapping against his thigh. Sure did look intense with all that blood drenching him. Casper put his hands behind his back, a little smile tugging at his lips, and waited for the next words.

They came with the sharp point of Cain's finger, a little shake to emphasise his point. "You have never once told me I was familiar. Not even when I told you about the whole past lives bollocks. Not apart from witchy you, but I'm entirely sure—"

"Hold up, witchy me."

A fond smile twitched at Cain's lips, cutting through the scary drama face. "Mm. Second to last. You—ah, he used to do tarot readings for me, and I couldn't drink a bloody cup of tea without him poking around in the leaves. The strange thing was how bizarrely accurate he was. Only small things, but precise too."

Shit, there really was something here. The ghoul ... call it his subconscious but maybe... "You said you steal someone's power when you eat their heart, right?"