Strings Of Fate

Arc 2 Chapter 1

He woke up. He showered. He went to the bakery. He did the things he needed to do at the bakery. He came home. He slept.

That pattern didn't change much, even after it became clear the circus wasn't coming back for him. Letting Daniel leave, and trying to refuse Madame their prey, apparently pushed his actions over the line into unforgivable. They'd forgive him eventually, but Madame was immortal. Once anger took root, it lasted far longer than many gave credit. The days passed, and the months grew colder, snow blanketing the city as winter settled in, adding another layer to the grey misery.

It was hard to feel the cold when his chest iced over, and he reverted to much like after his dad died. This time, he didn't have Daniel to pull him out of it. He had no one. 

Objectively, he needed help. He needed to go to the doctors and ask for help. He didn't. He sat motionless, waiting as the clock ticked or moved with frantic energy and fake smiled while in front of his customers. 

It was hard. He woke up with tears on his cheeks and sweat on his sheets. He showered to look presentable, turning the water scalding hot to feel warm for a precious ten minutes. He brushed his teeth, unable to meet his own eyes. He went to work, stopping when Fred appeared to stuff food in his mouth and fluttered as the customers teased him. He cleaned up, climbed the stairs and collapsed in his bed to repeat the cycle. 

Maybe he was better than before. He didn't drink - couldn't drink - more than a bottle or two of beer. He cleaned his living space and did his washing up. It was robotic, but he powered through the dredge of mud with the whisper of those final orders in his hair.

Isaac vanished from his life. Without the memory of Daniel, Isaac didn't bother to stay in contact. It was better that way. Terrence didn't know if he could handle dealing with an Isaac that had forgotten. His final postcard sat pinned on the board next to his dad's glasses appointment. Terrence didn't have the strength to take it down.

The next time he saw Daniel, he would be Kael. 

The snow melted away, leaving the green shoots of spring peeking through. People started walking without coats and hats. Terrence's room remained grey and lifeless. Everything in his apartment bathed in shades of blue and grey, regardless of how bright the outside grew. 

"You need to get help, Terry," Fred coaxed, rubbing his back as he struggled to eat. "This isn't getting any better."

"I know." Because it wouldn't, it could. If Terrence worked out how to move past this and get on that first step out of this maze he'd locked himself in; things would improve. Kael would be loved. He'd be protected. Marquez, Sanvish, Mika, they'd all love and cherish the new member and help him flourish and find meaning in his new life. Terrence suffered here. 

"Everyone copes with grief differently. There is no shame in getting help," Fred pressed more, his fingers heavy with expectation. Fred's meals grew bigger and more nutritious with every day. The customers, too, had started pressing meals to his chest. 

"I know," Terrence finished the last bit he could stomach before it turned to dirt in his mouth. He pushed the plate away from him and pressed against Fred. Not a hug, Fred didn't do hugs, but contact. Fred let that. "I need to call the doctors."

"Do you want me to do it for you?"

"Give me a few more days."

"Ok," Fred accepted the answer. He stayed a little longer than usual but left in the end. His family needed him. 

Terrence dreaded going upstairs more than normal. The idea of going to the apartment was worse. The corridor went on forever as he dragged himself to move. He warmed up his dinner, ate it, cleaned up and went to bed. He opened the skylight and watched the stars as he waited for something. A breath of fresh air into his lungs and a path forwards. This couldn't continue. Mika and his Dad both wanted the same thing for him: To live well.

The sun crept into his bed as the sun rose earlier and earlier. Oranges invaded his morning haze and pressed the memory of warmth into his skin. He woke up with tears staining his cheeks and, unusually, a sob on his lips. He cried a lot but not audibly. This morning broke the pattern. He curled and trembled. Ending it all wasn't an opinion. Madame had baked that into him too well. Breathing hurt. 

The shower hurt. He lowered the temperature to something reasonable and washed. He met his eyes in the mirror and flinched. 

No wonder Fred decided now was the time to intervene. His skin was gaunt and a shade of grey that wasn't the depression sinking into everything like normal. The bags under his eyes weighed and puffed out his skin, adding another layer to the unhealthy-looking ghost in front of him. He'd lost weight, and his hair was overgrown. He ran his fingers through it with a grimace. His daily showering kept it clean, but it was lifeless and flat.

He dressed, pulling out some newer clothes in better condition than his current set. He opened the bakery. He did the morning rush and decided to close for the afternoon. Fred gave him lunch and approved as he declared his intentions.

A walk, followed by going to the barbers to tame the mess of his hair. The sun didn't burn into his skin or persuade him to take his coat off, but his barber greeted him by name and smiled at him with enough warmth that something in Terrence settled. 

The circus was family, love and community. The community here didn't hold tight, but it existed. The men chatted around him about family, work and everything in between. A court of men safe in the knowledge that they were around friends, even if outside of the barbers, they'd nod at each other and pass in the street without a word. 

He settled and let the man tidy his hair up. He kept it longish, skirting around his shoulders but put in an undercut and laughed at the rolling eyes. 

"Going hipster, are we?"

"I'm a baker. If I didn't do something different with my hair every now and again, it would be a waste." 

An applause of sound followed, both disagreeing and agreeing with his statement. A couple wished they could do something extreme. Lou mock complained that they insulted his work. Terrence laughed. Lou did some magic, and his hair looked the best it had in years. Terrence smiled in the mirror, not completely putting it on for once and thanked him. 

He left with his wallet and heart lighter. It sunk again as he faced the building to return. The sun rested on his back, and the bakery looked ominous as the shadows beckoned. He wanted to go home.

That wasn't possible anymore. 

His hair was cut, he'd exercised and got some sun on his skin. Those were positive steps. He could do this. 

"Terry!" an oddly familiar voice called, a touch of relief in it. An Asian man strode over from where he'd been sitting on a bench, smiling pleased to see him. 

"Ikki," Terrence stepped forward and into a tight hug. He smelled the same as before. Terrence held on tighter as Ikki squeezed hard. Ikki was an ex. Not a bad or dramatic one; they broke up because Ikki wanted to leave and never come back, and Terrence had no desire to follow in his wake. He had other exes between now and then. Ikki was the best of them. "It's been a moment. I thought you lived in the big city now." 

"I do. I work at a fancy hotel. I love it to pieces. It's kinda related to me being here today, actually. Would you be up for getting dinner tonight?" Ikki fluttered his eyes teasingly. 

Terrence's skin burned where they touched. There was no hesitation. The universe gave him a good day. It would be foolish to look a gift horse in the mouth. "Of course, I wouldn't miss it."

A/N: We are in new territory now. Sorry about the short chapters, but again, I'm operating under 'write them and increase word count later'. I don't actually know how much I have for this plot idea. If I decide not enough, I'll switch it to a continuous story later, but yeah, we'll see :) (Hence why i didn't just make a sequel lol)