Phantom faces at the window, phantom shadows on the floor

[skeletonenigma]

Characters: (CLOSED) Skulduggery Pleasant, Erskine Ravel, Anton Shudder, and the fourth-wall Dead Men.
Date: April 15-30.
Location: Throughout Keeliai, but mostly in Erskine's new Earth Sector shelter.
Situation: The Dead Men haven't created something lasting together in a very long time. It's led to some spectacularly stupid decisions. This? This is their chance to fix things.
Warnings/Rating: Intimacy / non-serious flirting between grown men, some jokes of a sexual nature, massive spoilers for the entire Skulduggery Pleasant series (but notably the last two books), mentions of murder and betrayal, gratuitous amounts of violence and punching in response to said mentions of murder and betrayal (the Dead Men actually communicate by punching each other in the face). Also, broship. Lots of broship.


With Erskine and Skulduggery's relationship somehow even more strained than it was before Skulduggery vanished for a month, and Erskine growing maybe a little too dependent on Anton while living at the Hotel, the Dreaming's been getting a lot of wishes -- subconscious or otherwise -- for the arrival of very specific people.

They arrive on the 15th, scattered around the turtle. Over the day, they find each other, two or three at a time. There are hugs. There are punches. And when they all come together, they spend most of the following two weeks helping Erskine build and prepare a shelter for the kedan -- in between needing subtle reminders that the point of the reunion is to forgive each other.

Or, if not forgive, at least accept each other, flaws and all.

Comments

[scryinghope]

Happy Erskine was like a cat. Large, sprawling, effusive in his contentment. There was no way to miss Erskine when he radiated happiness. It was a light shining in him. But Hopeless did happen to know where at least some of that excitement came from, so when he pulled back with a soft laugh he let his hand fall to Erskine's shoulder.

"I do recall," he said teasingly back. "But that's the nice thing about futures. They're self-defined. They can include anything you want to learn, or re-learn."

... Alright, he lied; his hand lifted again after all, to cup Erskine's face, his voice quiet. "Nothing changes the past, Erskine. But remorse and forgiveness can enlargen the future. Relearn the loom. Leave behind something which grants warmth, safety and beauty, even if only for a few. That's a far greater legacy than changing the world in one sweeping blow."

[edgeoftheknife]

A future. Erskine hadn't ever been one to plan for the future; during the war he'd simply looked forward to the end of it, to clean, comfortable sheets on a real bed and not having to worry about himself or his brothers ending up dead on a battlefield. After the war there had been nothing but the plan. The future had been everything but it hadn't been his future. If everything went as he'd hoped there was a very real possibility he would have no place in the new world he was creating. He didn't need a place in it. What would he have left? No Hopeless. No Rover or Anton or Ghastly. A small handful of remaining brothers who despised him.

He had no future, no hope for himself left.

Keeliai, however strange and tentative, was a future. Hopeless, however brief and fragile, was hope.

Erskine leaned into Hopeless's touch like a cat starved for attention. He closed his eyes again, still smiling although not quite grinning as before, and slowly moved until his forehead was resting against Hopeless's. "You sound like you're trying to make me into a good man," he said softly, a teasing edge in his voice. "Pretty ambitious for your first few days back among the living."

[scryinghope]

The track and tenor of Erskine's thoughts brought tears to Hopeless's eyes. No matter how much anyone said it, Erskine couldn't internalise that he wasn't hated, that he could have a future. The only thing that would override the thinking of a century was action contrary to his belief, and time.

They might not have enough time. But maybe they could lay foundations, at least.

It still hurt, feeling that incomprehension for his own qualities, and Hopeless stroked the side of Erskine's face, responding to that affection-starved lean despite the fact Erskine's forehead was once more resting on his.

"I have every faith in your ability to be a good man," Hopeless said with that quiet, steady assurance which had always made the Dead Men respond, no matter how much they doubted themselves. "I have every faith in your ability to care for people, to help people, to see the best in them. I have every faith in your ability to be generous, and gracious, and gentle. I have faith in you."

[edgeoftheknife]

The tears in Hopeless's brown eyes were visible, even though that quiet, confident voice suggested otherwise. Without moving away from the fingers on his own face--still leaning into them, more like--Erskine reached up to brush at Hopeless's cheeks again, either to brush away tears or... just to touch him, really. Just to wonder still at whatever twist of fate had brought Hopeless back to him after tearing at him for so long, wearing him away like a stone in a river. Why now? Why....

...how did he deserve this at all?

He loved that voice. God, how he'd missed Hopeless's voice, even after the Echo Stone had come along to remind him. He didn't necessarily agree with Hopeless's assessment of him, but being this close, listening to that voice and knowing that Hopeless at least believed it all.... Erskine swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat and offered a small smile.

"I'm no good without you," he rasped. "I've tried. Without you there's not enough of me left to be that man."

[scryinghope]

Hopeless's other hand lifted, found Erskine's cheek so he was cupping Erskine's face. "There is," Hopeless said with that same confidence. "There is still that man in you. He's in your graciousness and generosity. Your love for beautiful things, and sharing them. Your wit. Your dedication. Your compassion."

As he spoke his thumbs stroked the line of Erskine's cheekbones, up to the corner of his eyes, as if to wipe away tears that weren't there. "He's just gotten lost, and you need help finding him. If you want to change, Erskine, it's within you to change. It's always within anyone's capacity to change. I promise, it is."

[edgeoftheknife]

Erskine's eyes closed as Hopeless spoke, as the fingers trailed along his cheekbones. He didn't have the kind of faith Hopeless did--never had--but maybe Hopeless had enough faith for both of them. He was usually right about these sorts of things, wasn't he? He'd almost always been right, about damn near everything. The memories of that stung, the ache in Erskine's chest a sharp counterpoint to the overwhelming relief of seeing Hopeless again.

One of Erskine's hands moved to lightly clasp around Hopeless's wrist again, as the fingers stroked his face. He'd long known that Keeliai was his second chance--probably the only chance he was ever going to get--but lately it had felt like he'd been treading water. Lost. Losing ground, even, on those days when he'd been unable to do anything but shut himself up in Anton's room with the Echo Stone. With the shelter, though, and with Hopeless here... it was starting to feel like maybe that chance wasn't wasted after all.

On impulse, Erskine moved his other hand to wrap around Hopeless, to draw the mind-reader into a tight hug. "Thank you."

For the gift. For the faith, and the love. For just being Hopeless, and for coming back to him.