[open] it seems that all my bridges have been burned

[onlyhymns]

WHO: Cade and yoooou
WHAT: Cade's restricted to his quarters! Again!!
WHEN: early Solace
WHERE: the Templar quarters in the Gallows
NOTES: Visitors are likely restricted by at least a cursory guard, who would be there anyway because Templars.

It may have been a day, it may have been six. Regardless, Cade spends the majority of his time on his bed, facing the wall, his back to the room and curled in a fetal position. When he's not there, he's sitting at the small desk he and Simon share, staring hopelessly at a blank book, holding a pen and not using it. He doesn't seem to sleep much, and hasn't touched any of the food brought for him. Few would, on their own deathwatch.

Comments

[paladingus]

Under other circumstances, Simon might stubbornly hang around on the grounds that it's his room too, but it seems like perhaps it might be best at the moment to give the whole matter some air.

Wren had asked him to ensure that Cade wasn't being a danger to himself, and it's hard to argue that causing oneself this level of injury doesn't constitute danger--but he doubts this is what she'd had in mind with the request. And he knows, too, that he can't bring this to her. Cade may not have asked him to keep quiet about it, but that's a technicality at best.

If it really is the mitigation Cade says it is, maybe turning a blind eye to it is the only way Simon really can keep him from being a worse danger to himself. He'd been entirely at a loss for how to do that otherwise. He isn't Wren. Cade doesn't listen to him worth a damn.

Turning away to rummage through his dresser, he comes up eventually with a jar of painkilling salve. He tosses it unceremoniously onto Cade's bed on his way out the door, and makes for the Hanged Man without further ado.

*~*later that evening*~*

[onlyhymns]

Cade has, at least, as promised, calmed down. He's not asleep, but is on his bed, resting on his stomach with his head pillowed in his crossed arms, gazing out their modest window at the bland white stone that constitutes the rest of the Gallows. There's not much to see, and too much to think about, but he's allowing himself the respite of focusing on his back instead of that. Pain is distracting. It's nice.

[paladingus]

Simon returns after an evening of modest debauchery, smelling very faintly of ale but pretty much sober. He's brought with him a napkin of bread with jam--from the kitchens, of course, because Cade has suffered enough without subjecting him to what passes for food at the Hanged Man.

"Just in case you get hungry," he says, placing it on the desk. He's not sure Cade will be any more inclined to eat it than he has anything else these past few days, but--well. Just in case.

[onlyhymns]

He really isn't. Inclined to eat anything, that is. But Cade's gaze flits to Simon as he passes, and after it's landed on the window for a little longer, he sighs in a way that may almost be apologetic.
"Thank you," he murmurs into his arms.

[paladingus]

"Don't mention it. Gave me an excuse to nick a couple of scones." He stretches out slowly on his own bed, hands folded atop his stomach.

It had worked its way through his head, after a couple of pints, that he really ought to be the one apologizing. Cade has judgment enough to worry about without having to contend with it from the people ostensibly on his side, even if it had been well-intentioned.

"D'you feel any better?"

[onlyhymns]

Cade loves scones. This is the thing that tips him over into full-blown guilt, and for a moment he buries his face in his arms entirely, wallowing in it. He nods slightly, but otherwise seems disinclined to react. Simon has been nothing but nice to him today.
"I'm sorry."

[paladingus]

He can have all the scones, if it succeeds in tempting him to eat. Simon's been getting increasingly concerned about the untouched plates. He can't even imagine going this long without getting hungry, even in the depths of despair.

"Nah," he says, "don't be. I guess I shouldn't've pried, it's just--"

Just what, he doesn't know. He sighs. "We just want the best for you, mate. All of us. All of us who count."

Not the damned Seekers.

[onlyhymns]

The words hurt to hear, even coming from the best of places. Cade visibly flinches, and remains still for several long moments, recovering.

"I'm not worth it," he finally says, lifting his head and speaking to the wall at the head of his bed, "all the effort, the worry, I'm..." He raises his hands to rest them over his mouth, blinking back tears again. He thought he was done with that. "It's wasted. You're wasting your time. It's just going to happen again. I know what everyone says."