Creatures of habit [Tag: Ethan]

[Dorian F. Blund]

Dorian woke up with a certain feeling of… emptiness. Another game, another death; this time more than ever before. Once again, he’d come out of it alive, and the more often that happened, the more genuinely surprised he was. Did Mrs Baker not hate him? Did she not want him dead? He would have expected her to get rid of him first after his first failure, yet… not only had he not been killed, he hadn’t even been injured. Even Katherine came out of it alive, the one person he cared about most. No punishment for him whatsoever.

It was… puzzling.

The man shook his head before slowly getting out of bed. There was a warm body next to him, but he didn’t turn to look at them right away, instead trying to organize his thoughts. It was disturbing, how used to seeing people die in front of him he’d become; it wasn’t anyone he was close to, for once, so he didn’t care. Had this place changed him, or was he simply selfish, not finding the strength in him to emote unless it personally affected him?

He didn’t know. And for now, he did not wish to know. He and whatever was left of his loved ones would live another day, another two weeks. That was all he needed.
Dorian glanced at last to the body, and was surprised when he recognized him. That hadn’t happened in a while, waking up next to someone he knew, but he was happy to see it was Ethan. He thought to wake him up, but decided against it: he needed a few minutes for himself after this. Slowly, he made his way to the bathroom, and, without bothering to close the door, turned the shower on, happily found out there was running water (this room was one of the bad ones, that much he could tell), and ran his now wet palms against his face.

In one of those motions, he found himself in front of the mirror, and looked at himself for a second, before a thought suddenly came to him.

I’m getting married. To Katherine.

…

Dorian stared himself down for a few minutes, before turning off the water. Everything had happened so quickly, he hadn’t bothered to think… But they were. She had picked him, and they’d both made it out alive. The rules were clear.

Hopefully, she would be luckier than his first two brides.

[Ethan Kaul]

Ethan once more awoke with that groggy feeling in his brain, a hell of a lot sooner than he'd expected. Surely it hadn't been two weeks already; time didn't exactly feel like it was flying when he was alone. His chat with Geoff had been nice, but it definitely hadn't been that long, and after it had ended he had been left pretty bored in all honesty. There was just something about having a roommate that made this place just a little more bearable.

A roommate. The fog in his mind began to clear, and he realised that that must mean he wasn't alone anymore. A cursory glance at the bed beside him made certain of that; the sheets were messed up as though somebody had been lying there. Well, at least whoever it was had survived the game, and had managed to make it to the bathroom, judging by the sound of running water. Silver linings, Ethan supposed.

Then again, he didn't know who it was nor how things had turned out for them. Were they mutilated? In pain? Had they seen a loved one die? All of those possibilities scared the hell out of him, which was kind of a surprise. Surely after how long they had been imprisoned he would be more desensitised to all the brutality that had occurred...

... But then again, he hadn't seen anyone die. Yet.

Alongside that, he didn't actually know how anyone was doing. Geoff was roomed alone, and there was nobody on his other side, which meant they could be some of the last people in that place who were still alive. God, he hoped that his friends were okay... Hannah, David, Evan, Dorian, Daniel, Freya, Keiari... Sawyer, hell, even Kim. He hoped they had managed to cheat death once more.

Groaning, he lifted himself up onto his elbows and into a sitting position. There wasn't really much else to do but to wait for his elusive roommate to finally emerge, and then to hear the inevitable bad news that they would bring.

[Dorian F. Blund]

Dorian had finished grooming himself when he heard movement in the other room. He briefly considered showering, but decided against it; he’d done so right before the past event anyway, and right now, all he wanted was to take some time to rest, eat, and process everything.

Aaaaand probably infodump on his new roommate, as had become the custom in this place. Here we go.

He peeked into the room, taking note of Ethan’s general appearance: he seemed rather well, thank god, but also somewhat grumpy. Perhaps he’d gotten used to finally having some real privacy (assuming that one could make abstraction of the cameras) and wasn’t keen on having someone to share his space with. Too bad for Ethan, because Dorian was glad to have him.

Quick to thrust his hands into his lower pockets – that was NOT how he wished their conversation to start –, Dorian finally left the bathroom and walked towards the bed, offering the younger man a small smile. He suddenly felt somewhat self-conscious; they’d gotten along well, but it was a while ago, and not in person. Dorian was used to be welcome, but not genuinely liked. Nonetheless, he greeted the boy warmly.

“You’re awake.” He said, softly. “I am truly glad to find you well. Nothing bad’s happened to you, I hope?”

[Ethan Kaul]

Hearing the bathroom door open, Ethan's head snapped over to catch a glimpse of his new roommate. He could feel a little bit of dread lingering in his stomach at who it could be and what news they would bring him, but upon seeing Dorian's large form exit the bathroom, he breathed a sigh of relief. Thank god, at least one of his friends (and, yes, after their conversation he did consider the man to be a friend) was alive. Even if he had possibly the worst dye job known to man, at least he didn't seem too physically harmed besides that.

“You’re awake,” Dorian began, and Ethan smiled a little at him, “I am truly glad to find you well. Nothing bad’s happened to you, I hope?"

"Not at all," he replied, "I've been pretty lucky again, I've had a remarkably safe few weeks. It's good to see you alive too, I was a little worried."

He scanned the man's face to see if there was any hint of pain upon it, but found none. Thank goodness for that, he was either physically okay or doing a damn good job at masking it. Either way, his doctor senses would sniff out the answer soon enough.

"It has been a little boring on my own though," he added, "Geoff is on the other side of the wall and we had a nice talk, I presume his roommate will be returning soon enough too."

Hopefully, anyway. He wasn't going to delve straight into game chat just yet though, knowing it was probably a difficult topic, and so decided to move the topic away from what could have happened. Ethan wasn't sure he even really wanted to know.

"You know, I never imagined that the next time we'd meet that you'd be blond, but stranger things have happened I guess."

[Dorian F. Blund]

Ethan smiled as soon as he heard him speak, filling him with welcome relief; he seemed happy to see him, at least, and was indeed unharmed, thank goodness.
“It's good to see you alive too, I was a little worried."

“How about that.” He teased, now more confidently approaching the bed. It felt nice, after all this, knowing that he was missed and would be mourned if he was to perish. Being forgotten as one left this world, he realized, was a terribly sad thought. Maybe that was part of why he never quite got around discarding of his wedding ring.

It was good to know Ethan had been well enough to get bored – hopefully it didn’t mean the worst was to come for him soon – but it was the notion of Geoff that sparked his interest. Dorian glanced one side, then another, unsure behind which wall he would be hiding. After hearing about this mysterious man for so long, he was truly curious. Maybe he could finally find out more about him.

“I presume his roommate will be returning soon enough too.”

“…Hopefully.” He muttered under his breath. There had been so many deaths, too many. It was as if now that she’d started, she simply couldn’t stop, until she’d either kidnapped the whole county, or run out of people to kill.

"You know, I never imagined that the next time we'd meet that you'd be blond, but stranger things have happened I guess."

The comment was so unlike what he had expected, it caught Dorian off-guard; sometimes he forgot about his terrible hair dye, and most importantly, that many people who knew him from before this mess had no idea he’d had it for so long. Noah, Hannah, Freya, Silvio, and Ethan… all blissful in their ignorance. His hand twitched in his pocket as he resisted the urge to run it through his hair and reveal what had to remain hidden.

“… it’s old. I think you can tell, it looks really bad. Cassim did it on our first week here. For food. We were in a really bad room.” He really wanted to touch his hair right now; maybe to feel closer to the man whom he’d lost. “Our host has strange… demands. What surprises me is that she’s never asked me to dye it again.”

In retrospect, the really surprising thing was she’d ever asked him at all. Knowing who was behind it only made it more ridiculous than it already was. Why in the seven hells did his mother-in-law care about his hair color?!

“Meanwhile, you are just as I left you. Minus the hair growth, but I suppose that’s on everyone.” He truly wished they would be provided with a scissor, at least a RAZOR for everyday grooming; but he realized some might be tempted to use it for other reasons, and how that would not be an attractive concept to his mother-in-law. “Have you heard from your friends who were to be wed?” he asked, remembering how torn and apprehensive he’d seemed at the prospect. “Are they okay?”

Well, partially it was his empathy for Ethan… partially it was the fact he was to be in their same situation soon, and he was… worried.

Dorian sighed. “I’ll tell you what I know you want to hear. Katherine is fine. She might possibly be a bit intoxicated at the moment, but she ought to be safe. I cannot swear for many more people’s safety, however.”

The man bit his lower lip; he wished that could be an exaggeration, yet… so many deaths, so many bodies, and he thought he was unfazed by them now, yet… having to speak of them out-loud to an unknowing person, acknowledge everything… Dorian was starting to realize how terrible it all truly was. And as he tried to process everything, another vision of the forever dormant body of a black-haired beauty lying motionless on her bed crept through his thoughts, overpowering his will.

Dorian forced himself to sit, overtaking some of Ethan’s personal space for a moment. He hoped he wouldn’t mind, because he was here to stay.

“… I have more bad news than good news.”

[Ethan Kaul]

“How about that," Dorian responded, a hint of teasing in his voice, and Ethan felt himself redden slightly with embarrassment. It was a pretty big deal for him to admit to actually caring about somebody, even though he had been doing an awful lot of that since being kidnapped, but it was especially strange saying it to Dorian, considering how alike they apparently were in suppressing their emotions.

He just rolled his eyes playfully as a reply, hoping that his roommate wouldn't take any offence to it. He really did appreciate how comfortable they already were around each other, even despite all the barriers that they had to break down in order to feel that way.

At the mention of Geoff, Dorian glanced at both walls, and Ethan pointed to the correct one.

"That one. Nobody's on the other side, it's pretty hollow. Freya and I were in here before, and we unsuccessfully attempted to break through. Seems Katherine and her scissors are the only things that can do it," he joked, watching carefully for a reaction at the mention of Katherine. He didn't know how she was doing - they hadn't talked in a long time - and he wondered whether Dorian had any idea about how she was.

“… it’s old. I think you can tell, it looks really bad. Cassim did it on our first week here. For food. We were in a really bad room," Dorian replied in regards to his hair, and Ethan just nodded. It seemed as though a few people had gotten tasks or visitors of some sort, and it almost made him wonder why he had been spared. Maybe the worst was to come...

"I honestly would have done the same, I'm already starving and I've only been in this room a day or so," he grimaced, "Honestly, it'll probably be really easy to cover with some dark hair dye, or you could just retouch the roots. What's that saying, blondes have more fun?"

“Meanwhile, you are just as I left you. Minus the hair growth, but I suppose that’s on everyone.”

"We're all looking a bit worse for wear, but I guess since we all look like cavemen it's less embarrassing," he shrugged. It was strange looking at himself in the mirror and seeing how unkempt he was, when usually he was so well-presented, but he'd grown slowly used to it. Perhaps a beard wasn't such a bad idea after all...

His tone was slightly jokey, trying to lighten the mood a little even though he could sense his roommate was building up to say something. Honestly, he was more than certain it would be something he didn't want to know, and so the more stalling he could do, the better. Unfortunately, Dorian didn't seem to have the same idea, but at least Ethan had some good news in regards to his questions about David and Sawyer.

"Actually, I was roomed with Sawyer, the bride, for the past few weeks." He could feel his cheeks flushing involuntarily at the mention of her. God, he didn't understand how he could be so smitten by her already, but it was at the very least a relief that she felt the same.

"She's fine. I had to give her the news about Huxley, and she was pretty upset since they were very close, but towards the end she perked up." Quite a bit, considering how they'd spent their time since their confession...

"She was with David before me, but they're not married yet. They don't even have rings. It's all a bit strange really... but they seem to have been kept safe so far."

Unless he was mistaken, anyway. Dorian could tell him at any moment that the two of them were dead, and he wouldn't even know until he'd heard it.

“I’ll tell you what I know you want to hear. Katherine is fine. She might possibly be a bit intoxicated at the moment, but she ought to be safe. I cannot swear for many more people’s safety, however.”

That answered his earlier question, and thank god that Katherine was still okay, at least. The intoxicated comment was... a little confusing, but he supposed it had something to do with the event they had been in... Which meant that Dorian was about to tell him all about it...

He took a deep breath, bracing himself as Dorian sat down on the bed. He wasn't going to cry. Not again, not in front of Dorian. That would be far too humilating.

"Good, I'm glad she's safe," Ethan nodded, "I worried about her too."

“… I have more bad news than good news.”

Shit.

"Okay..."

You're not going to cry.

[Dorian F. Blund]

Ethan seemed bashful at his comment, and strangely, he kind of liked it. He chose not to torture him further, though, and simply grinned at the sight of the younger man rolling his eyes at him. How cheeky.

Dorian turned his head towards the wall he pointed to, making a mental note to consider trying his luck there, while he was still mostly emotionally numb. At the mention of Katherine and wall holes, however, Dorian shifted towards Ethan once more, blinking in open surprise. Did he… know that? He remembered mentions of a hole through which she’d received Cassim’s scarf, and was aware that Katherine had Della’s scissors, what he had no news of as far as he could remember was… what she had been up to with them. He supposed trying to break the walls was… one way to use them. Maybe not the best way, but… a way.

"Honestly, it'll probably be really easy to cover with some dark hair dye, or you could just retouch the roots. What's that saying, blondes have more fun?"
“Ah, yes. I, myself, have been having a blast.”

He didn’t mean to sound so sarcastic, but it was hard to avoid. Everything seemed to have gone downhill the moment that hair dye showed up in his room. That was when he’d lost the first person he cared about, and the last meaningful time he’d spent with Cassim before losing him as well for good. God was he eager to get his natural hair color back; and to get a haircut, too.

"Actually, I was roomed with Sawyer, the bride, for the past few weeks."
Dorian turned his head slightly to the side with interest. He tried to stay subtle, but after all this time trapped here, he sometimes found himself slipping away from his ability to remain unreadable.
Ethan seemed rather fond of the bride, if his tone, and the redness of his cheeks, were anything to swear by. He frowned in thought; he hoped he wasn’t TOO fond of her, considering the circumstances…

“I’m sorry to hear that.” It was sad to discover there had been more people to mourn Huxley’s death; yet in a way, it was also good to know that he would not be forgotten. If people kept being killed, perhaps there would come a day where new prisoners would know absolutely nothing of the first ones to have been brought here; nothing than, perhaps, a distant rumor of found items and little notes.

It was a shock, too, to realize how far away Huxley’s passing seemed to be in time; it couldn’t have been more than a month, and yet… it felt like a lifetime. Dorian had seen and heard of so many people leaving this world that after all these months, it was becoming difficult to process them all, and to have the energy to care as much as he should. Every second spent in mourning the dead was one not dedicated to the living, and himself. It was disheartening, but true. For once, Dorian understood what experts meant when they said the new ability for modern citizens to know of all horrors happening around the world in real time had desensitized them to its impact, and lowered their capacity for empathy. You simply couldn’t be sad for everyone all the time.

"She was with David before me, but they're not married yet. They don't even have rings. It's all a bit strange really... but they seem to have been kept safe so far."
Instantly, Dorian started pawing around his pockets. He hadn’t even thought about it yet, but… he couldn’t find anything in there, and though he would have to reveal his hands to check his vest pockets, something he wasn’t ready for yet, he didn’t sense anything unusual there either.

“How strange… I don’t seem to have a ring either.” He muttered to himself. He WAS engaged, wasn’t he? A new sense of dread invaded him; what if it had all been for show, as a way to trick them into a false sense of security, and he and Katherine weren’t any safer now than they were before then?

There wasn’t much time for questions, though, for now was rather the time for explanations. Sighing, Dorian made himself more comfortable on the bed. This was really the part of being roomed with a new person he liked the least.

“As I’m sure you’ve guessed, I was in a game. I’ll give you the good news first: I am engaged, it seems, to Katherine. At least, we should be. There were two more couples formed, so I can only hope that means more people to be spared from death in the future.” After all, everyone seemed to agree that Geoff and Hannah were rather protected by their status of newly-weds. “I didn’t really know those there well… the other couples were a young Asian in her twenties with a black man called Russel, around Huxley’s age; and a redhead in her twenties with a black-haired white man in his thirties; he was the only man there who wasn’t already present in the last game I was in, the one I told you about. The other dark-skinned man from last time was left without a bride, but” much to my surprise “nothing happened to him despite that. That I know of, at least. There was also no sign of the man with a heart card from last time, which… either means he’s married, or… I was really wrong about his fate.” Dorian sighed. He hated having to think about that possibility, but… he couldn’t deny it forever.

“The bad news is… well, people died, as they always seem to.” He shook his head, hating how natural such a statement had become. “The men were tied up, the women had to toast in the honor of the man they’d choose to be their husband. Two of the women who drank died, and their grooms with them. One of the men was the one you called Daniel, and his bride a young girl with dark hair and blueish hair dye at parts; the other was Mathias Berg, and his bride a dark-skinned woman he seemed in love with.”

With all that said, Dorian stopped and looked up at Ethan, awaiting his reaction. If he knew how these things usually went, it couldn’t possibly be good.

[Ethan Kaul]

“Ah, yes. I, myself, have been having a blast.”

Dorian's dry statement caused Ethan to let out a snort. It seemed as though the old adage was wrong; blondes weren't having any more fun than he was in that hellhole. However, his words seemed to carry a certain weight to them, suggesting to Ethan that it was probably best to change subject and move on, for fear of offending or upsetting his roommate.

Huxley's demise wasn't exactly the perkiest of subjects, but it was different at least. Dorian expressed his apologies for Sawyer also having been close to Huxley, and Ethan just shrugged a little in response. What else could he say? People were dying every day in that hellhole, and he had no doubt that the professor had not been the last one to go. He just wanted to stall a little longer, to keep his roommate from revealing who the next victims were, just in case they were people he cared about. He couldn't go through that again, and not in front of someone he knew wouldn't feel comfortable with too much emotional expression.

It was Dorian's reaction to his ring revelation that piqued his interest. His hands, which had been firmly lodged in his pockets, started patting himself down, as if he was searching for something. Ethan raised an eyebrow, watching him closely.

“How strange… I don’t seem to have a ring either.”

"A ring?" Was Dorian engaged? Had there been yet another matchmaking game? That part didn't shock him too much (other than finding out that their kidnapper wanted to match him up again after how his previous match had ended up...), but Dorian's frantic patting did. If he'd expected a ring, surely it would be on his finger...?

He didn't have time to ponder that, however, as Dorian began to tell him all about the latest game, which he had once more been an unwilling participant in. Poor man, he seemed to get the short end of the stick, and that was probably due to his previous relationship with their kidnapper. That was one thing Ethan was grateful for; as far as he knew, she was a total stranger, and so she hadn't really punished him for any past indiscretions yet. Small mercies, although he sensed there was trouble to come.

“I didn’t really know those there well… the other couples were a young Asian in her twenties with a black man called Russel, around Huxley’s age; and a redhead in her twenties with a black-haired white man in his thirties; he was the only man there who wasn’t already present in the last game I was in, the one I told you about."

Russel... so it had been Russel in the game with him before. Ethan tried to rack his brain for what had happened to him. It wasn't his heart, teeth, tongue... it was his ears. Perhaps the worst punishment for a musician. He could only hope that, whatever had been done to his ears, the poor man could still hear, and the damage was merely cosmetic.

"I see. I met Russel before, when I was last in this room actually, although I don't recognise the other two." Unless the redhead was Jessica or Kim, of course. And if it was Kim... well, that would be a comfort to know she was alive, at least. He didn't want Sawyer to have lost another person she was close to.

"What did the redhead look like, if you're able to provide a bit more of a description?"

"There was also no sign of the man with a heart card from last time, which… either means he’s married, or… I was really wrong about his fate.”

He'd pretty much figured that it wasn't a marriage. After all, who was his bride, unless another game had been conducted and Ethan was unaware of it? If it wasn't a marriage situation, that meant that something had happened to the man... and Huxley hadn't been the only casualty of the game. That scared Ethan even more, that she was now killing of multiple people per game. It definitely lowered his chances of survival.

The words that followed didn't ease his worries either, in fact, they only intensified them. People died. Multiple people. That was not good. His fellow victims were dropping like flies, and it seemed only natural that he would be next... one by one they would all die until there was nobody left to remember them. That date with Sawyer, that movie night with Keiari and Daniel, and that hoped-for coffee with Dorian were seeming more and more like pipe dreams by the second.

"Two of the women who drank died, and their grooms with them. One of the men was the one you called Daniel, and his bride a young girl with dark hair and blueish hair dye at parts; the other was Mathias Berg, and his bride a dark-skinned woman he seemed in love with.”

Daniel. Mathias. And... two women, one of whom Ethan instantly recognised to be Keiari. They were all dead. Ethan ran a hand over his face, sitting back, stunned. Four people had died, but more than that, one of his best friends had died. Keiari, the woman who he'd studied for countless tests with, who he'd cared about deeply, who had cheated death once, but not twice. 

Dead.

"Shit..." Ethan whispered, unable to look at Dorian. He had no clue what to say, how could he? He thought he'd cried all of his tears when he'd lost Huxley, when he'd beaten himself up for weeks about what had happened to David. And yet, he could feel his eyes welling up once more, even despite his determination not to cry.

They were never going to get out of there, were they?

[Dorian F. Blund]

"What did the redhead look like, if you're able to provide a bit more of a description?"
Dorian frowned. What else COULD he tell him about her? He’d tried to make a mental note of everyone’s appearance just for that very situation, but it wasn’t like he’d been staring at her from up-close in a stress-free environment.
“Well… her hair was long, but I think that’s true for everyone now. She was wearing green, had a rather roundish face and nose, and her eyes were… blue? Maybe green, but definitely a light color. I couldn’t see her from very close amidst the chaos, but…”
Something was bothering him… A piece of information he knew he would have no issue recalling, had his brain not been so underfed in both actual food as well as activities to keep his mind sharp. Something he’d heard, like…

“Emer! Her groom called her Emer. They seemed to know each other. And she called him…” his thoughts wandered for a bit, before he closed his mouth dejectedly. That was as far as his once brilliant, now faulty memory was willing to take him. “… I think I was too focused on Katherine to pay attention to her toast. It was a name I believe I’d heard before, though, so he must have been here a while. It started with a consonant, probably B, D or P.”

As he gave him his short retelling of the events, he could see Ethan’s face first turn serious, then quickly fall into apathy. Hearing of the event itself was disheartening, but he didn’t seem too surprised, if at all, to hear of the possible death of the once supposed “winner” of the boiling room game. Dorian had wanted to remain hopeful; after all, perhaps he simply wasn’t there because he already was married and therefore did not need a match. Yet… the more time went by without any mention of such a thing happening, the least confident in his assumption he was, the more he feared for the stranger’s life. Perhaps back then Dorian had been desperate for good news in a sea of pain and despair; now, he was almost too numb to care.

But as the time came to announce those who’d passed away during the last game itself, however, Ethan’s expression fell further into one of pure agony, refusing to even look at him, and Dorian pursed his lips in sympathy. That was always his least favorite part, and once again the worst had come to pass; from his reaction, Dorian could only assume that this was more than shock to hear about how many had perished, though that alone was a disturbing thought. No, if the tears now filling his eyes and threatening to run down his cheeks were any proof, Ethan was close to the victims… Dorian ignored if he had any links to Mathias and his bride, but the man clearly knew Daniel, and had mentioned once being roomed with his girlfriend. Perhaps they had been more intimate than he first believed.

Dorian watched the man try and fail to keep his composure, his face paralyzed in an unsure frown. He wanted to comfort the man, for he knew much too well how he felt, and the struggle of trying to overcome his own feelings of discomfort; never show sadness or pain, that’s what his father had always told him, and he suspected the younger man had a similar upbringing. But if this giant misadventure had taught him anything, it was the importance of letting his emotions out when it truly mattered.

His hands twitched in his pocket; he wanted to show the man a gesture of affection, a hand on the shoulder for example, but he had a feeling that revealing his brutalized appendages now, in such time of turmoil, would only further upset the doctor. He could try talking, but he still didn’t trust himself with words of comfort.

So, instead, Dorian slowly moved on the bed until he was sitting right next to Ethan. He had no idea if perhaps the man would rather want his personal space respected in such a moment; perhaps yes, perhaps not. Maybe the best was simply to make his presence known, to show he was right there if needed, and let him come to him.

“I’m sorry, Ethan.” He whispered to the man, finding their conversation more private and intimate that way, more fitting to the somber news. He was close enough to be heard, anyway. “I did not know them well, but I know what it’s like to lose someone to these atrocities.” His legs nervously switched positions, unsure as he was of his next words, before he continued. “I also know what it’s like to try to keep up a façade in front of others, and how… hurtful it can come to be. So… if needed, you don’t have to act tough here. Your secret’s safe with me.”

[Ethan Kaul]

Dorian's description of the redhead didn't exactly help Ethan much. That could have been either Kim or Jessica; both had long red hair and he'd never looked into their eyes long enough to discern what colour they were (because... gross). However, when he managed to recall the girl's name, he couldn't help the small sigh of annoyance that left his lips.

"Ah, thank you. I thought from the hair colour it might be someone I know, but unfortunately not. I don't recognise the other man either."

It was a little frustrating, but also in a way strangely reassuring, to know that there were others in this place he hadn't met. Their kidnapper really had been prolific, and perhaps these two new faces were somehow related to this Claudette, since Dorian didn't seem to know who they were either. In any case, Ethan was a little disappointed that he didn't have any good news for Sawyer, knowing how worried she was about her friends' well-being, especially Kim.

Perhaps it was a good thing that they hadn't been involved though, as the event seemed to be even more deadly than previous ones. If only three couples and one singleton had made it out alive out of five, that was not a good sign. Still, maybe Dorian knew something... and even if he didn't, it wasn't going to hurt to ask.

However, Ethan didn't have time to ask about any knowledge of either girl's whereabouts, as Dorian revealed the news of the deaths, and which unfortunate members of their cohort had met their demise. And, at the news that one of them was Keiari, he could feel his heart slowly break a little more in his chest, another crack forming to match the one that Huxley had left behind. He'd been so sure that she was going to be one of the people who escaped, especially after her near death experience with Teddy and their kidnapper. She was strong, she was fast, she was a nurse so she knew how to bandage up wounds... More than that, he wanted her to escape. Even though he had had some feelings for her, he'd grown to be glad that she'd found someone like Daniel, who she loved with all her heart and who seemingly loved her the same. He wanted her to have a long and happy life with him, she deserved that much. Even though they had died together, it still didn't ease the ache in his heart. They deserved better.

So did the other couple, who had apparently also been in love. So did Huxley. So did Cassim, Della, Lydia, the man who had drawn the card with the heart, and every other poor soul who had met their demise in that place. They all deserved a life that they were now never going to be able to lead.

Ethan was still frozen, paralysed by shock and heartbreak, when Dorian's voice began again, bringing him slowly back to consciousness. 

“I’m sorry, Ethan. I did not know them well, but I know what it’s like to lose someone to these atrocities."

Cassim. Of course. From what he'd heard, the two had been close, and now Dorian had to continue on while his friend was dead. They were in the same boat, and it was a fucking awful boat to be in. Ethan slowly looked at his roommate, green eyes locking onto blue. 

“I also know what it’s like to try to keep up a façade in front of others, and how… hurtful it can come to be. So… if needed, you don’t have to act tough here. Your secret’s safe with me.”

That statement was possibly even more shocking than any death he could hear about. Both times he'd talked to Dorian, Ethan had tried to repress his emotions, failing each time. And yet, the man was telling him that he didn't have to. That it was okay to cry. He wondered if Dorian had cried when Cassim died, or whether he'd just pushed it down, not wanting to show weakness. Somehow, he assumed it was the second one, and that made his heart hurt. The two of them really were kindred spirits after all.

"Thanks..." he replied quietly, looking down at his hands in contemplation. The confirmation that it was okay to cry at Keiari's death was a welcome one, but it was still something that he was struggling with. Was he really willing to cry in front of the man who had offered him a sort-of job, who seemed so professional and put together and entirely unequipped to deal with the outburst of emotion that was brewing inside of him?

"Keiari was my best friend..." Ethan began after a moment, still staring at his hands, "At least, I saw her that way. At times she was my only friend." Besides Taylor, but they didn't always see eye to eye, and Mina, but that didn't really count because she was his ex. 

"It's just a shock... I'm glad she at least got to die with the man she loved, but... she was going to be a nurse. A really good one too, she was going to help so many people, save so many lives. And more than that, she was one of the kindest, most caring people I've ever met. I really thought she was going to make it out..."

A soft sigh escaped his lips.

"It's getting harder and harder to keep the faith, you know? Every person that dies chips away at that little bit of hope I have that we're going to escape." He drew his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them, feeling a tear trail its way down his cheek.

"I'm really sorry about Cassim," he continued quietly, "And I'm sorry that you felt like you had to hide your feelings. I want you to know that you don't have to do that around me. If you need a hug or some space or whatever... that's fine with me, and I won't tell anyone about it."

More tears began to fall, and this time he didn't bother to hide them. There was no point in it anymore. The damage was already done.

[Dorian F. Blund]

Weeks ago, Dorian might have found it a shame that Ethan couldn’t tell him more about Emer and her groom; information was power, that was his most sacred doctrine. Nowadays, however, he was just happy Ethan wouldn’t have to be worried about more friends of his. The least people one knew these days, the better it seemed.

Because his feelings were undoubtedly shattered as he heard the news, and Dorian could only watch with a heavy heart as he tried and failed to keep the tears from running.

His genuine offer was met with shock and disbelief; Ethan had not expected to be invited to share his feelings by Dorian of all people, and for that he could not be blamed. Dorian could still recall the way he’d reacted to Katherine’s first outburst, when they had shared a room what felt like forever ago: all he’d wished was for it to end as quickly as possible, so it wouldn’t be his problem to deal with. Things had changed since then, and Dorian didn’t have it in him anymore to deny himself sorrow. So how could he spurn the misery of others? They were all in the same boat. In Ethan in particular, he saw a kindred spirit, someone who had been raised with the same values and beliefs as he, and he saw it as his duty to teach him his feelings were valid, just as Cassim, Hannah and Katherine had done for him.

Ethan thanked him weakly, but Dorian’s relief was very short-lived when he continued. "Keiari was my best friend..." The ir caught in his throat. Dammit. He’d hoped it wouldn’t be something so serious… so close to his heart. At least it wasn’t someone he had a romantic relationship with, which was what Dorian had first feared. "At least, I saw her that way. At times she was my only friend."

“I understand.” And he really did. The first two people he’d lost to these cruel games, Kamala and Cassim, were the two people he’d ever felt some form of bond with before he was brought here. A man who loved him like a son even when he thought he didn’t need it; worst of all, when he KNEW he didn’t deserve it. A woman that was as different from him as could be, someone he should have never gotten along with, yet also someone who never wanted anything out of him and saw him just as he was with no expectations, a feeling as refreshing as it could be for him; a friend, no more no less, something he had always lacked.

"It's just a shock... I'm glad she at least got to die with the man she loved, but... she was going to be a nurse. A really good one too, she was going to help so many people, save so many lives. And more than that, she was one of the kindest, most caring people I've ever met. I really thought she was going to make it out..."

Dorian listened in silence, nodding along to let Ethan know he was heard. As much as he wanted to, there was not so much he could tell him; after all, he knew nothing about this woman, the one and only time he’d met her being the moment of her death. It had not been pretty either, the pain on her face clear as she slowly suffocated to death, but he knew better than to tell Ethan that.

One notion stuck with him though. ‘I'm glad she at least got to die with the man she loved’. Dorian thought Ethan would have seen this double death as something to be more saddened by, yet he saw it as an opportunity for the two, to stay together even in death. ‘till death do them part It was strange to him, yet… Mathias had gladly drank from his bride’s glass without anything forcing him to. Della had stayed with Cassim when she could have left at any moment and survive.

Was that love? Not only being with the person you cherished… but choosing to die with them too, for no life without them was worth living? His mind went immediately to Annie, how distraught he was to lose her, how he hadn’t felt any emotion at all for months after her passing, his mind numbed by the shock. Yet, never had he considered taking his own life. He knew the relationship between them wasn’t one of pure romantic affection, it’d never been, yet… he cared for her. He wanted her to live and be happy, and knew, deep down, she wished the same for him. She’d said as much in her last letter to the world.

What if Katherine had to die? Would Dorian kill himself if that day came? At no point had he even thought to grab the glass from her and drink, risking to share her fate, like the other men had done. He knew his feelings for the woman were complicated, not what she wished them to be, yet… what did that mean for him? Did he not care for her as much as he thought he did? Or was he simply too much of a coward?

“I’m sorry for your loss… she truly seemed like an admirable young woman. If it helps… Daniel cared for her deeply, I could tell despite the short amount of time I saw them together. She died loved by him, and he loved by her.” That had to be some form of comfort, to someone who seemed to have a better understanding of what love meant, didn’t it?

"It's getting harder and harder to keep the faith, you know? Every person that dies chips away at that little bit of hope I have that we're going to escape."
To that, all Dorian could do was chuckle sadly. “Funny, isn’t it? When I first got here, I cared for no one but myself, and was perfectly content with that; or at least, that’s what I told myself. Now, I care for more people I could ever think, and I know it’s going to be my downfall. This is… a terrible place to discover your own compassion. Perhaps if I didn’t, I would be more confident that I, at least, could leave this place one day, everyone else be damned.”

Dorian, after all, was no naïve fool. The chances of being discovered and rescued was never 0; but it was at an all-time low. The change of mindset had been definite when he caught himself thinking of what he would do, not when he would be free once more, but IF he ever was free at all. Every time he spoke of what he wished to do with someone outside this prison, it felt like a joke, yet one he had to participate in, or lose all hope and sanity he had left, and himself in the process.

“At the end of the day, thought… freedom, it’s what we need to hope for. Live for. There is no future here, but there might be a future ahead. If not with faith, try to survive with persistence. Keep going, if only out of spite. She WANTS us to be broken, so let’s not give her that. I’m sure your friend would have wanted that for you.”

It was all the advice he could give, really. Every person that died was another toll on them; but it was another reason to fight through, too.

"I'm really sorry about Cassim." The sudden mention of his mentor caught him off guard. Dorian closed his mouth, listening solemnly. The comparison between their losses had not been lost on him either, but he hadn’t expected Ethan to point it out. "And I'm sorry that you felt like you had to hide your feelings. I want you to know that you don't have to do that around me. If you need a hug or some space or whatever... that's fine with me, and I won't tell anyone about it."

Dorian shook his head; he’d thought this talk would make him more emotional, yet he could only smile with affection, seeing himself offered the same kindness he’d granted Ethan only minutes ago. He was a good kid, he’d known it.

“I think I’ve mourned him all I could here, yet…” Dorian stood silent for a few seconds, unsure whether he should continue or not. At last, his emotions got the better of it. “It will sound stupid, and I know it is unlikely, yet… I think part of me hasn’t registered he’s truly dead yet. As if a repressed voice in my head is still expecting to wake up next to him in a room one day. I’m no stranger to loss, yet… Every other time in my life I’ve lost someone I cared for… I saw the body, frozen and stiff, clear as day. But with him… all he did was disappear behind a door. For all I knew, he could be alive somewhere…” A few more seconds past quietly before Dorian shook his head, seeming ashamed. “Don’t get me wrong, I know it’s not the case. It can’t be, she’s killed too many people. It’s childish, yet… I can’t shake that feeling, for all I try. And until I leave this place, stop seeing traces of him in every wall, in every meal I eat and used to share with him… I don’t think I can.”

He smirked at the man sweetly; yet, his face was ashen.

“You’d think people like us would be the most likely to make it in a place like this, but we seem rather ill-equipped.” He teased, before turning serious once more. “I know it might hurt, but… please, don’t be like me. Suppressing everything for so long… it’s what got me in such trouble in the first place. Mourn your friend. Don’t keep it inside for everyone else. If others don’t care how you feel, then you need not care how they feel either.”

With that, Dorian softly shifted closer, until he was next to Ethan’s curled form… and slowly, trying to keep his hand still hidden, he awkwardly wrapped one arm around the man’s shoulder in comfort without making too much pressure, offering all the comfort he could find in himself to give with the lack of experience in affection he had, only hoping his roommate could see it as it was: friendship.

[Ethan Kaul]

“I understand.”

Ethan knew all too well that Dorian did, and that only upset him more. How many lives had been lost in there, and how many people were left behind to mourn them? How many of his fellow victims would have to continue trying to survive, knowing their loved ones were gone? He was aware the number of survivors was diminishing rapidly, which actually didn't make things much easier. That only meant there were less people to remember them when their kidnapper had her way, and they were all lying dead.

His fingers began to tap his knee nervously as he continued. He had to get it all out in the open, both for his healing and so that, when Ethan himself was (seemingly inevitably) murdered, there would be somebody alive who knew the person behind the walls he'd so carefully crafted. Who was able to remember both him and Keiari as good people. He only hoped Dorian would be a survivor so somebody could tell his tale.

Dorian listened to him quietly, and he was grateful for his silence, even if it did increase his nerves a little bit. Who knew what he was thinking? Was he regretting his offer of emotional support already? Probably. Ethan knew he would be if he had to listen to someone go on and on like he was.

Finally, when he'd finished his speech, and took a deep breath, his roommate spoke once more.

“I’m sorry for your loss… she truly seemed like an admirable young woman. If it helps… Daniel cared for her deeply, I could tell despite the short amount of time I saw them together. She died loved by him, and he loved by her.”

A small smile came to his face, despite everything. Keiari was dead, but she died as she had lived: loved. She deserved that much, at least.

"I'm glad to hear it," he replied after a short pause, his voice wavering ever so slightly, which he cursed himself for, "She deserved to be loved."

Ethan knew he couldn't say the same for himself; Freya's question from over a month ago popped into his brain. Who was going to miss him? The answer was probably a few more people than the last time he'd confronted that question in his mind, but the issue was that they were all his fellow victims. In truth, despite all his hard work, he was not going to die as Keiari had. He was not going to be remembered as fondly as she would be, anyway.

Dorian's next words, however, gave him pause for thought.

"When I first got here, I cared for no one but myself, and was perfectly content with that; or at least, that’s what I told myself. Now, I care for more people I could ever think, and I know it’s going to be my downfall."

Well, if he had any doubt in his brain that they were incredibly, almost comically similar, that was all gone. Ethan had been the same, his one track mind focused on success and success only. Keiari was the closest thing he'd had to a friend; he'd reasoned he didn't need them, that they were a distraction. And now? Now he cared about plenty of people, too many, judging by the concern that had grown in the pit of his stomach every time he heard of a new game. More than that, he'd made friends, and possibly found a little romance too, something he'd sworn off of ever since Mina broke up with him. It was like he was a whole new person in that hellhole, but a better person for it.

And he was probably going to die without ever getting to show the world who he'd become.

"I was exactly the same. I bottled up all my emotions and pushed them to the back of my brain, and yet an old man wrapping his arms around me broke that immediately, and it's been unfixable ever since. I care about people now, more than just clinically. I want us to get out. Us, not just me. And that fucking sucks, because I know more of us are going to die, and I'm going to have to feel like this again and again and again until I'm gone too."

He looked at Dorian, trying to gauge his reaction, but apparently his roommate was on a different wavelength to him, a more optimistic one in fact, which surprised him. He'd expected something close to his own brand of cynicism, and yet here he was, telling Ethan that they needed to hope for freedom, that they shouldn't break because that was what their kidnapper wanted. In a way, he agreed, but it was just becoming so hard. Still, he nodded in reply, a promise to at least try. He owed him that much, at the very least.

"Spite is a good motivator," he chuckled quietly, "I guess I can do that."

His mention of Cassim was a risky one, and yet Dorian didn't look too close to slapping him for it. In fact, he looked almost contemplative, before he opened his mouth.

"It will sound stupid, and I know it is unlikely, yet… I think part of me hasn’t registered he’s truly dead yet. As if a repressed voice in my head is still expecting to wake up next to him in a room one day. I’m no stranger to loss, yet… Every other time in my life I’ve lost someone I cared for… I saw the body, frozen and stiff, clear as day. But with him… all he did was disappear behind a door. For all I knew, he could be alive somewhere…"

Everything Dorian was saying surprised Ethan, because it was such a different reaction from what he'd expected. He'd presumed that he would be the one to open up about losing Keiari, Dorian would offer comfort, and that would be the extent of that, but instead they were mutually sharing their pain. Did this mean that Dorian trusted him? The thought filled him with a little spark of happiness that somewhat offset the pain he was still feeling coursing throughout his body.

"I'm sorry that you've experienced so much loss," he began, "And I get it. I mean, I know there's no chance that Huxley or Keiari could be alive, but I didn't technically see them die, so a little part of me hopes it isn't true and that this is all one big hoax. Nobody saw Huxley die that I've spoken to either, so maybe I've just mourned him for nothing... and yet I know that he's gone and I need to accept that, and mentally prepare for any future losses. I wish we didn't have to, but..."

But it was inevitable. He trailed off, looking over at his roommate.

“You’d think people like us would be the most likely to make it in a place like this, but we seem rather ill-equipped.”

Ethan let out a sardonic snort, "You've got that right. Who knew years of emotional repression would be a bad thing?"

“I know it might hurt, but… please, don’t be like me. Suppressing everything for so long… it’s what got me in such trouble in the first place. Mourn your friend. Don’t keep it inside for everyone else. If others don’t care how you feel, then you need not care how they feel either.”

Dorian's words made him want to cry again, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes. He knew logically that people weren't going to judge him for his displays of emotion, and yet he was still holding back, much like Dorian. For people like them, this was enough. More than enough, actually. He was certain that this level of emotional openness had never been accessed by either of them, but in a way, it was cathartic. They certainly needed it.

And then, Dorian's arm curled around his shoulders, and the tears that had been threatening to spill over fell from his eyes, the action telling Ethan all that he needed to hear. That he was there for him, and that was okay. That they would work through this together, as shitty and tough as it could be. That Dorian was his friend.

One arm wrapped around his roommate's torso, and brought him into a tight hug. Kind of like hugging a big, blond, emotionally repressed teddy bear. They only hugged for a few moments, as Ethan's awkwardness got the better of him, forcing him to reluctantly pull away.

"Thanks..." he mumbled, "I think I needed that."

[Dorian F. Blund]

Not for the first time, Dorian’s words seemed to help Ethan rather than make things worse. It was a shift he still couldn’t quite comprehend, but which he would take gladly.

At the mention of an old man, he could only smile sadly; he meant Huxley, no doubt. The memory of the poor lad being gutted right in front of him, the helplessness of not being able to do anything at all, the uncertainty of what had happened next, but still knowing there was no way he could be alive… who knew what had been done with his remains. He did not wish to even think about it.

“Would you ‘fix’ it if you were able to?” Dorian asked out of the blue. It was of course no surprise to him to see his uncanny similarities with the man confirmed, even when it came to their most recent changes; but Ethan had described his awakening as ‘unfixable’, and it was an interesting way to put it. Would Dorian do that much if given the chance? Maybe going back to his selfish, cold nature would be for the best as long as he was to remain here; yet, was it truly worth trading one form of miserable existence for another? ‘Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, they said. Of course, ‘they’ was often wrong, so how was he to know. “Believe me, I know it’s scary to suddenly realize you care for others than yourself when you’ve convinced yourself it would never happen. It’s scary.”

But Keiari, unlike others, seemed to be someone Ethan had cared about even before he was brought here, not unlike him with Cassim and Kamala, and that only made the pain Ethan was feeling right now further clear to him. He knew what it felt like, to lose the first person your heart had ever opened itself too. It was an ache like no other, and one that would certainly take many moons to truly pass.

"Spite is a good motivator. I guess I can do that."

Dorian smiled. That chuckle did not sound happy, but he hadn’t expected it to; not so soon. “The best motivator, if you ask me. If we can’t stop her from hurting us, we can at least make it harder on her.” With those words, Dorian felt a fragment of the flippant nonchalance he’d felt when seeing his mother-in-law in the boiler room; this wish to face death with his head held high and not give her the satisfaction of seeing him weep. Perhaps, it was time to get back to that spirit. He’d pitied himself long enough.

"I'm sorry that you've experienced so much loss."

“It’s okay. I didn’t mean to make this about me.” Dorian quickly interjected. He wanted to share his experience to show sympathy, but he was mildly afraid he’d taken protagonism from Ethan’s pain, if that made sense. He was the one most suffering at this moment. As he continued, however, Dorian had to close his mouth. Sadly, he’d seen Keiari die before him, and from what he saw, he doubted Huxley could possibly be alive, even if he hadn’t witnessed his final departure from this world. But he understood how it was still difficult to stomach for the man, just like Cassim and Della’s passing had been for him. Dorian had always thought the concept of an “open casket” at funerals rather tacky; who wanted to see corpses, anyway? Wouldn’t it be best to give them the modesty of being remembered in life rather than in death? Now, Dorian knew: closure. As painful as it was, it was always preferable to see the indubitable proof of a loved one’s passing than to wonder forever. It gave it a finality like no other.

“But we must, sadly.” He finished Ethan’s sentence. “I’m sorry you experienced so much loss as well, and… hope you won’t have more to come.”

And that you won’t be one, either.

"You've got that right. Who knew years of emotional repression would be a bad thing?"

Dorian chuckled drily. Stated in such simple terms, it seemed so obvious; then why had it taken two smart men like them decades to figure it out?

Ethan was still struggling to repress his emotions after his well-meaning words; it was only once his clumsy arm wrapped around him that the faucet of his eyes finally turned on. Willing tears ran down his cheeks, and soon enough, an arm wrapped around him tightly.

Weirdly enough, the first thought that came to his mind wasn’t about the situation itself, but that Ethan, in his arms, felt smaller than he had expected him to. It was a strangely pleasant thought, and he found himself not disliking the sensation. Maybe he didn’t fully hate being used as a teddy bear after all. Being tall and big had its perks.

The second thought, of course, was that Ethan was clearly not much more experienced in hugging than Dorian was, if the awkwardness of the embrace was to judge, but he had expected it as much. Both of them were emotionally repressed since their early childhoods, the fact they were touching at all, another man at that, was big enough of a step for them, and he was content with tightening his hold on the younger body just enough to let him know his gesture was welcome.

Promptly, though, Ethan was moving away, an expression akin to embarrassment on his face, which brought an amused grin on Dorian’s lips. Well, he would have never expected to be the least flustered one in an embrace.

“It’s alright.” He comforted him, kindly. “I think I needed it too.” After a second, Dorian found himself chuckling. Two grown men discovering in their 20s the marvels of physical contact? This was a pathetic as could be, but also somewhat comical. “Hugs aren’t as bad as I expected, who knew?”

With one last smile, his eyes settled on Ethan once more. It had been hard to put his hands once again in a position to keep them hidden, but he needed to make sure the man was at least… not as bad as he was a moment ago, first.

“… Are you feeling a bit better? Of course, you can take all the time you need… I’ll be here in the meantime.” Dorian shrugged, hoping the gesture spoke for itself. Ethan wouldn’t be truly better for a long time yet, that much was clear.

[Ethan Kaul]

“Would you ‘fix’ it if you were able to?”

Now that was the million dollar question. Would Ethan fix what he'd already deemed unfixable if he could? Instinctively, he wanted to say yes, but something stopped him. Sure, he could go through his time only caring for others superficially, wanting them close for what they could provide him with and not just out of friendship. He could experience deaths without emotion, go through games only ensuring his own safety. It would be a heck of a lot easier... but it wouldn't be right. Every person he'd met had chipped at his walls a little, and wormed their way into his heart. The feeling it gave him to deliver good news or to engage in playful banter was undeniably good, a pleasant warmth spreading throughout his body. And, whilst it did make deaths harder and games more tricky to escape, he wouldn't trade his time with Huxley or Keiari or anyone else he cared about for anything. He needed them, and they needed him.

"No," he answered finally, "No, I don't think I would. I've come so far now, and I know that if I make it out it's going to make me a better person, and even a better doctor. Yeah it sucks when someone I care about dies... but I'd rather feel something than never feel at all."

He looked down at his hands, "Would you fix it if you could?"

Dorian seemed to approve of his answer, and his spite, although he probably should have expected that. Still, seeing him smile at something he'd said, even if it was only a little bit, felt really good.

“The best motivator, if you ask me. If we can’t stop her from hurting us, we can at least make it harder on her.”

A small smirk came to Ethan's lips. That honestly sounded like the best sort of plan. So the bitch wanted to see him cry? Wanted to see him suffer? Fine. But he was going to use that pain to push forward and keep going. He owed that much to Huxley and Keiari. He owed it to them to get out of there, or die trying his damn best, at the very least.

His roommate seemed unwilling to fully accept Ethan's condolences, but he supposed that was a little bit of residue emotional repression still lingering. He didn't want Ethan to know that he had been too affected by the losses, so it seemed, and that was something he understood all too well. Still, Dorian's assertion that he was making it all about him made the doctor automatically shake his head.

"Not at all. You're allowed to feel like shit too, you know. It's not making it all about you if you can relate to my emotions," he gave him a reassuring smile, "If you need to vent, vent. I'm pretty good at listening, I like to think."

"And, god I hope there's not more loss in either of our futures. I honestly don't think I have any tears left to cry," he added with a chuckle, wiping his eyes, "I'll be all shrivelled up from dehydration before you know it."

Apparently he wasn't all out of tears, however, as Dorian's large arm wrapping around his shoulders once more set off the waterworks. And, yes, that was something he was a little embarrassed about, the not realising how nice it was to be held until it actually happened, even if their embrace did resemble the hug between Voldemort and Draco a little. His roommate's arms tightened around him, and Ethan practically forced the tears back into his eyes. It was the most fatherly thing he had experienced in, well, ever really. Even Huxley hadn't seemed like a father figure to him, more like a deranged uncle who'd had too much to drink at the family reunion, but with Dorian it was different. Maybe it was their shared bond over their emotional issues, or maybe it was just Ethan projecting those ideals onto him (despite his roommate not being that much older than him) because he secretly craved some sort of familial structure, but either way, it was nice. Really nice.

“It’s alright. I think I needed it too.”

Ethan could sense that he had. After all, when was the last time he had been hugged? If Dorian was anything like Ethan (and god knows they'd realised he was by then), it had been a heck of a long time. Maybe this whole hugging thing wasn't so overrated after all.

Dorian's words echoed his thoughts, and he let out a small chuckle.

"Right? Apparently they do help. You learn something new every day," he smiled at the now-blond, "Sorry for getting your shirt all wet, but call it a free laundering."

“… Are you feeling a bit better? Of course, you can take all the time you need… I’ll be here in the meantime.”

Another difficult question. Ethan looked back down at his hands again, pondering his answer. Well, he'd smiled and laughed, so that was something. Of course, he didn't want to be disrespectful to Keiari's memory by not crying as hard as he'd done for Huxley, but... well, Dorian's comfort had helped. Not fully; his heart still ached, and it was going to take a loooooong time for it to heal even a little bit, but he was feeling a little better despite the shitty feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"A bit. Obviously I'm not fully okay... But at least I know Keiari had a comparatively good death and she's somewhere in the afterlife with Daniel, probably watching Huxley do a strip tease or something. And... honestly? I feel a bit motivated now to avenge her death, and all the other deaths. That's kinda overriding the sadness, for now anyway."

When the nightmares came, and he knew they would, it was going to be a different story altogether.

[Dorian F. Blund]

"No. No, I don't think I would.” Ethan answered after a few minutes of deep introspection. Dorian looked up in interest. “I've come so far now, and I know that if I make it out it's going to make me a better person, and even a better doctor. Yeah it sucks when someone I care about dies... but I'd rather feel something than never feel at all."

Dorian grinned thinly at his description as he nodded; that sounded uncannily familiar to what he was feeling, but at this point, it wasn’t a surprise for either of them, really.

Part of him felt a twinge of pride, too; Ethan had truly come into himself well in the past months, probably even better than he had. Better late than never for them, wasn’t it?

"Would you fix it if you could?"
He had expected the question to be returned against him eventually, and all it took were a couple seconds of pondering before Dorian shrugged.
“No. If I’m going to die soon, I might as well live a little, for once.”

How was he supposed to protect people if he didn’t care, anyway?

"Not at all. You're allowed to feel like shit too, you know. It's not making it all about you if you can relate to my emotions.”

That, Dorian wasn’t so sure about. In his experience, when people shared their heartaches, they didn’t want other people to start talking about how much YOU were suffering about something, as similar might it be. Then again, Dorian was still new to this whole “open empathy” thing, and he wasn’t sure he always chose the right things to say. Ethan didn’t seem bothered by it at least, he’d take it.

As their conversations stopped and their embrace softly came to a stop, he wordlessly assessed the younger man’s reaction. He seemed… content, at least much less distraught than he was a moment ago. Apparently, “hugging it out” wasn’t just a phrase, and actually had its merits. If anything, Dorian was glad his awkward gesture had been reciprocated, or he would have felt truly out of place.

But most importantly, he was happy he could do something to comfort his friend… and couldn’t deny getting some satisfaction out of it himself.

"Sorry for getting your shirt all wet, but call it a free laundering."
He’d first grinned at him as he chuckled, but his smile was quickly erased as he looked down at himself: his shirt was instead wet with tears in places, and… well, he surely hoped there wasn’t any snot.

Dorian sighed softly, with no ill-will behind it. “My shirt’s been covered in worse. I’ll live.”

"A bit. Obviously I'm not fully okay... But at least I know Keiari had a comparatively good death and she's somewhere in the afterlife with Daniel, probably watching Huxley do a strip tease or something.”
Dorian did his best to conceal a frown behind his usual neutral expression. Keiari’s death hadn’t been as brutal as Huxley’s, and probably not as painfully slow, but it hadn’t been exactly pleasant either. Of course, he was set on not giving away the details as long as Ethan didn’t ask for them. He didn’t need to know she had suffered, not when he was only just starting to adjust to the idea of her loss.

“Well, I sure hope she can enjoy that.” He joked lightly. Watching an old man striptease for eternity wasn’t exactly his idea of a pleasant afterlife; then again, he didn’t believe in life after death anyway, but it didn’t seem like the appropriate time to exchange theologies either.

“And... honestly? I feel a bit motivated now to avenge her death, and all the other deaths. That's kinda overriding the sadness, for now anyway."

“That’s good.” Dorian nodded, before his face turned serious once again. “… as long as you don’t turn reckless.” He’d been the one to tell him to live out of spite; but that didn’t mean he wanted him to risk his life at every turn. “… please do try to stay safe, as much as you are able.”

It was uncomfortable, once again, to show too much affection, but he could only remember the promise he and Katherine had shared, and his wish for Ethan to follow the same principle. One couldn’t make sure they would never die or be put in danger, but they could at least make sure no injury would come from their own will. That was all he wanted to hear.

This said, Dorian sighed softly. He hadn’t missed the way Ethan kept glancing down at his own hands as he pondered over their discussions; body language was always important to keep track of, if one wanted to understand someone’s true feelings. Yet, right now, all he could think about was… what he had been hiding from him this whole time, and how impossible it was to sustain this lie for long.

Silently, he observed the man’s face. This wasn’t the right time… then again, he doubted there would ever truly be a right time, and if he was to see him at some point, he preferred for it not to be an accident. As a doctor, he trusted him to react appropriately; as a friend, surely he would be horrified.

Well, there goes nothing.

“… I understand this is not the best timing.” He started off softly, as if to ease him into it. “But… well, there’s something I need you to see, because I can’t exactly hide it forever. Before I show it to you, I just want you to understand it doesn’t hurt anymore, for the most part, as long as I don’t use them for too long and don’t apply too much pressure on them.”

With that meager introduction, he waited a few moments for the idea to settle into the future healer’s mind before he deliberately removed his hands from his pockets, revealing the missing appendages. Thankfully, the wounds had closed nicely, surprisingly so even since he had no knowledge of any medical practitioner being on the premises. Though, it didn’t stop the overall sense of unease he always felt around this part of his body, and the casual pain whenever he forgot what he was no longer able to do for himself.