They're told nothing, and it's part of it, isn't it? Keep them separated, confused. It leads to madness more than anything Lucien can touch them with, and he would know that. As someone who has never loved (couldn't have ever loved), he somehow knows how to use that love against all of them to splinter their minds into pieces, and he can't-
It's his father that has done all of this to all of them. The reason that he exists at all is the reason they are all here, and he needs to know where everyone else is. He needs to know every single thing that has been done to everyone he loves so he can pull it on himself, so he can feel it himself, and so he can rip something apart for it, so he can rip himself apart for it that's what he really wants...
so he can use it to destroy himself before he becomes what his father wants him to become, because he can't.
He can't become someone that does this to people. He can't- He can't- It's what he wants, and he cannot.
Ethan lifts his head as she brings her head up to him, resting her chin on his forehead. He closes his eyes briefly, but it's her. It's her, and he lifts his hands up to slide over hers, shaking.
"It's you," he repeats in a low, hoarse voice, pulling it into him as it slides in like a knife into his throat, into his chest like a blade of knife. He can't breathe through it, and he swallows back the feeling in his throat. It all hurts. It all has hurt over and over, but he hasn't given in.
He's good. No matter what he's done to him, Ethan hasn't given in. The blood spilled, the bones broken and rehealed, it didn't matter. He wouldn't give in. He wouldn't-- wouldn't- he stayed strong despite the type that he was the one to run, to avoid always, nonstop again and again. Ethan didn't avoid, knew he couldn't, knew he had to take a stand.
And he did, he said no, he said hurt me and break me and make me bleed and scream all you want, I will not. I won't. You can't make me a monster too. You won't make me a monster too. You won't make me do what you want, you are not the ruler of me.
Ethan looks at her through the darkness, the bare light there when she says that she is not dead, they will not die. How- and he lets out a laugh that is empty and broken in its sound, shaking his head as the pain strangles his throat. How can she still have hope? He doesn't understand it. He doesn't understand if she's hoping because she needs to... and not because it's real.
"We're not," he says, and he says it because... because he knows she needs it, and he can do so little after all this, after how he is shaking. His hand slides around his arm, and he forces himself to find the strength to hold on to her arm.
And he... lets out a helpless sob. The steps are happening, and he hears them, but it's not until she tightens her hold over him, her hold over him. It's not- He should be protecting her. It should be him protecting her, and he- he can't- It should be him, and it's why he lets out a sob, strangled in the sound of his throat.
Before he pushes his head up to glare in the sound of those foot steps. He is so familiar, so familiar with the sound of it that he doesn't wonder who it is.
It's Lucien. It's his father.
"What a beautiful reunion," he says calmly, taking a drink from his wine as he looks at them both. The sounds of it enter his head, ticking away, bounding way into a melody of its own. Lucien tilts his head to the side, and he can see through the darkness at them. "You're welcome. I believed that you two might have missed each other especially with how you continued to scream her name, Ethan."
Nothing but red.
Ethan shoves past the pain and the weakness and the rest as he lifts his head, and he glares at the man that made him, terrified all at once, terrified more than ever before because it's not just him. It's Elena too. "Leave her out of this, please." And he nearly chokes on it, nearly hates himself for begging.
no subject
They're told nothing, and it's part of it, isn't it? Keep them separated, confused. It leads to madness more than anything Lucien can touch them with, and he would know that. As someone who has never loved (couldn't have ever loved), he somehow knows how to use that love against all of them to splinter their minds into pieces, and he can't-
It's his father that has done all of this to all of them. The reason that he exists at all is the reason they are all here, and he needs to know where everyone else is. He needs to know every single thing that has been done to everyone he loves so he can pull it on himself, so he can feel it himself, and so he can rip something apart for it, so he can rip himself apart for it that's what he really wants...
so he can use it to destroy himself before he becomes what his father wants him to become, because he can't.
He can't become someone that does this to people. He can't- He can't- It's what he wants, and he cannot.
Ethan lifts his head as she brings her head up to him, resting her chin on his forehead. He closes his eyes briefly, but it's her. It's her, and he lifts his hands up to slide over hers, shaking.
"It's you," he repeats in a low, hoarse voice, pulling it into him as it slides in like a knife into his throat, into his chest like a blade of knife. He can't breathe through it, and he swallows back the feeling in his throat. It all hurts. It all has hurt over and over, but he hasn't given in.
He's good. No matter what he's done to him, Ethan hasn't given in. The blood spilled, the bones broken and rehealed, it didn't matter. He wouldn't give in. He wouldn't-- wouldn't- he stayed strong despite the type that he was the one to run, to avoid always, nonstop again and again. Ethan didn't avoid, knew he couldn't, knew he had to take a stand.
And he did, he said no, he said hurt me and break me and make me bleed and scream all you want, I will not. I won't. You can't make me a monster too. You won't make me a monster too. You won't make me do what you want, you are not the ruler of me.
Ethan looks at her through the darkness, the bare light there when she says that she is not dead, they will not die. How- and he lets out a laugh that is empty and broken in its sound, shaking his head as the pain strangles his throat. How can she still have hope? He doesn't understand it. He doesn't understand if she's hoping because she needs to... and not because it's real.
"We're not," he says, and he says it because... because he knows she needs it, and he can do so little after all this, after how he is shaking. His hand slides around his arm, and he forces himself to find the strength to hold on to her arm.
And he... lets out a helpless sob. The steps are happening, and he hears them, but it's not until she tightens her hold over him, her hold over him. It's not- He should be protecting her. It should be him protecting her, and he- he can't- It should be him, and it's why he lets out a sob, strangled in the sound of his throat.
Before he pushes his head up to glare in the sound of those foot steps. He is so familiar, so familiar with the sound of it that he doesn't wonder who it is.
It's Lucien. It's his father.
"What a beautiful reunion," he says calmly, taking a drink from his wine as he looks at them both. The sounds of it enter his head, ticking away, bounding way into a melody of its own. Lucien tilts his head to the side, and he can see through the darkness at them. "You're welcome. I believed that you two might have missed each other especially with how you continued to scream her name, Ethan."
Nothing but red.
Ethan shoves past the pain and the weakness and the rest as he lifts his head, and he glares at the man that made him, terrified all at once, terrified more than ever before because it's not just him. It's Elena too. "Leave her out of this, please." And he nearly chokes on it, nearly hates himself for begging.