faderift | [closed] 2 feet below the surface I can still make out your wavy face

WHO: Merrick, Metaari, Pel and Cyril
WHAT: The three of them try to calm Merrick down. It's going to be a long, long night.
WHEN: Right after this.
WHERE: From Cade's quarters to Cy and Merrick's
NOTES: PTSD symptoms, self-harm, probably more. Also like flashbacks of suicide and stuff it's not gonna be a pleasant log ok

From the moment his fist had connected with Cade's face, Merrick had stopped being Merrick-- at least, the Merrick that exists right now. He's a child, scrambling to make sense of the ragged emotions tearing through his tiny body, frantically reaching out for something he can never have again. He's a creature made of grief and helplessness and hate, hate so terrible and hot and thick and burning through his skin and sinew and down to his skeleton--

He's crushed against Metaari's chest, and he claws at the qunari's jacket, letting out keening noises and ragged moans as he is carried away. He has no sense of where he is anymore. He is somewhere else entirely.

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Metaari casts Cyril a thankful glance at that. He's torn in half with what he wants: he wants to stay here, to see this through from start to finish, to see, but another part of him just wants to get out of there, to take a step away and organize his thoughts.

He pushes himself up to his feet and moves toward the door, hesitating at it for a moment. His eyes turn back and he frowns, pain flashing across his face before he turns and opens the door, stepping back out into the hallway with a deep sigh.

Cyril leads the way to the door and then Cyril and Metaari leave together and Cyril starts going towards where they can get some water. "How are you holding up?" he asks Metaari because he is concerned about Metaari's mental as well.

Metaari is quiet for some time, walking beside Cyril in relative silence. He pauses at the question and lifts his hands, gazing down at them. There's a bit of dried blood across them, obtained when he was hauling Merrick off of Cade, and he closes them into tight fists. A low rumble leaves him, something dangerous, and he turns to slam his fist into the nearest wall.

It's probably one of several temporary walls while the masons work on rebuilding Skyhold, but there's still a small crack from where it had connected.

He's holding up about that well.

"I should have had an eye on him. If I'd been nearby..."

"Don't blame yourself," Cyril says, though he knows it's going to a while before he stops blaming himself for being up enjoying a human party while all of this was happening.

"Can you tell me everything you know about what happened?"

He rubs the back of his neck and lets out a slow breath, his eyes falling closed for a moment before he shakes his head. "I showed up too late. The poor sod he was beating out--didn't have much of a recognizable face. Someone else arrived, I think they said his name was... Cade?"

His eyes open again and he glances sideways with a shrug. "Does that mean something?"

Cyril's face went stony after Metaari says the name. "It does. Cade is an ex templar who attacked Beleth. He broke her nose." That makes a lot of sense now. The whole night seems to be clicking into place for Cyril. How could he have been so stupid as not to be more vocal in discouraging Merrick from attacking Cade?

"Ah." Mettari shakes his head slightly and pinches the bridge of his nose as he sets off down the hallway again, heading to get that water. "I may not know much on your intertwined relationships, but even I know that's a bad move." A wry grin appears on his face for a moment before it disappears again into a frown.

Cyril nods a bit. "A terrible idea," he agrees. Then, after a moment, "You realize this is only going to get worse. During these fits, Merrick screams, and fights, and tries to hurt himself. It's heartbreaking to watch."

A hand comes up and Metaari drags it down his face with a quiet sigh, his eyes closing. He wondered if he would have the strength to handle this. If Merrick was important enough for him to put himself through this kind of heart ache every time he heard one of those soul-wrenching screams. Now would probably the last opportunity he would have to say no, to walk away, before either of them got any more invested.

Instead he turns toward Cyril, a resolve steeling itself across his face. "I want to learn. How to calm him, how to bring him back. I need to learn."

His concerns about this being the last chance are valid, and Cyril plans to make it very clear. "I'm glad that you want to learn," he says. "But you need to be sure. You need to be certain. If you want to walk out, you can, but if you do you need to know that you cannot ever walk back into his life. This is the moment where you devote yourself fully, or leave. And then never come back."

His voice is so serious that there is no room for doubt. Metaari can leave, and Cyril won't even judge him for it, but if he does, that's it. He's never to see Merrick again. "I want you to stay. I think you could do a lot of good for him, but I can't expect you to take that on without knowing all it means."

His eyes fall closed for a moment before he turns to look at the nearest doorway. He stares at it, trying to imagine himself heading through it right now and not looking back, and the image refuses to appear. Metaari can't even begin to think of leaving, not now. His lips purse together as he looks back again.

"I could never turn my back on him. Whatever it may mean, whatever truth is behind it all-- I will be another presence in his life he can rely on." And more than that, Merrick will be one in his.

Cyril nods at that and although his face is hard, his heart feels reassured. He wants to believe Metaari. He wants to believe that he'll stick around until Merrick is back.

"You have the right to change your mind, but only tonight. He won't be fully aware that you're around at first, so you can leave without causing too much pain. Come morning, though, things will be steady."

"I get it, Cyril. It's now or never." Metaari cracks his neck slightly and turns to head off down the hall to go and, finally, get the water. He glances back just briefly with a lopsided grin. "I pick never. The rough part is the rest of you are going to be stuck with me."

He turns to face forward again, lifting a hand to wave for Cyril to catch up. "Let's get the water and get back, yeah?"

Cyril can't help it, a small smile cracks through the serious expression on his face. It's probably the last smile he'll have tonight. He can't help it, Metaari's commitment means everything right now.

"Let's," he agrees. Then he focuses on getting what they need and getting back to Pel and Merrick.

[closed] 2 feet below the surface I can still make out your wavy face

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