#make you better | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chasseurdeloup-retired · 4 years

Text

Make You Better || Regan and Kaden

TIMING: Night of the exorcism LOCATION: Kaden’s apt PARTIES: @kadavernagh and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Someone needs a hug. CONTENT WARNINGS: Discussions of parental death and grief

Kaden had lost his mother. Again. Even knowing that his mother was a murderer, a connasse, Regan knew that the loss still had to be heavy and painful. Perhaps even harder to talk about and feel, a second impossible time around. She wasn’t even sure Kaden would want her there when she’d asked -- he liked his solitude at times -- but he didn’t hesitate. So she was on the way. Except -- the stupid freaking wings. She settled on wrapping herself in a blanket and sneaking into the car. Caught herself going 2 miles above the speed limit. She never did that. The panic was getting to her, the asphyxia in her throat as she thought about Kaden, alone, mourning his mother. Almost there. She barely remembered to put the car in park before jumping out and charging over to Kaden’s apartment. Even swaddled up, she felt the wings flit against her back when Kaden opened the door. He’d been crying. His eyes were red, his cheeks were streaked and shiny, and her heart jumped. Regan stepped inside and wrapped her arms around him, squeezed him, maybe too tightly. She sometimes offered meager words of understanding to next of kin who came into the morgue to confirm the identities of deceased loved ones. But those words failed her here. The situation was unprecedented. “I’m here, Kaden. Whatever you need.” She breathed, pressed against him.

As soon as Rebecca left, Kaden had planned to go to the bedroom, let Abel out. Instead he pressed his back to the door and slid down to the floor and stayed there for who knew how long. He knew this would be bad, seeing her, sending her away forever, not to pass on, just gone, but he didn’t think it would be that. Seeing her like that was awful. Feeling her rage burn inside of him, thoughts plaguing his mind, that was worse. If things had gone differently, he knew what would have happened. Everyone he cared about would be dead. At her hand with his body. He had to get up off the floor, stop thinking about that. Just long enough to get to the dog who was still barking and distressed. The walk he intended didn’t happen. Once he let Abel out it was just him curled up in his fur letting the flood of all he’d been holding back out while the dog licked at the salt on his face occasionally. He could barely remember half of the messages he sent. Other than asking Celeste for advice and telling Regan to come over. At first he thought about telling her no, he could just handle it by himself. But he typed otherwise without too much hesitation.

When the knock came on the door, Abel was there far sooner than he was. Kaden had to step over fallen books and skulls, some plates from the other day, steer around the displaced furniture. Seeing her there, even in the silly blanket, it just felt better and worse all at the same time. He thought he didn’t have any tears left after however long it had been while he was on the floor, but he found them again as he wrapped his arms around her and clung to her like it was the only thing keeping him upright. It might have been. He didn’t know what he needed beyond a hug, so he simply buried his face in her shoulder and stayed there for a while. It eventually hit him that his arms were around her wings. Probably crushing them a little. Pinching at least. “Did-- uh-- I didn’t--” He sniffled in a deep breath and tried again. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

The past few weeks had been challenging, to put it lightly. But every time Regan thought she was seeing Kaden at his most despairing, there was a new bottom to be found. Surely there was no worse than this, she thought, her chest welling up as she looked at his wet eyes. The death of a parent. She noticed that the whole side of his face was red, like he’d had his face pressed against a hard surface, and something about that tore at her insides. She held him, felt him sniffling against her shoulder, and not for the first time she wished she could be warm -- not just her skin (though that’d be fucking nice), but she wished she had Cece or Erin’s effortless talent to comfort, to bring Kaden through this. Her comfort felt cold by comparison. Abel was clearly concerned about his human, too; he hovered nearby with his tail held low and his ears pricked with what Regan took as worry. Apparently he’d also learned his lesson from last time not to stick his nose in the wings.

Speaking of -- her spine jolted as Kaden’s embrace tightened, and there was a fierce pinch over her scapulae. The sensation was alien and uncomfortable, but she wiggled slightly to ameliorate the pinch and decided it didn’t matter right this second. It mattered more that he was hugging her anyways, and she realized with a pang that it was a first. Regan was content to stay there for a minute, maybe longer, however long Kaden needed. And he clearly needed this. But his eyes winked open, bleary but concerned, and -- was he really asking about that right now? Regan gave him a small smile in response and kept hugging him. “Um, little tight around the back. But it’s -- really, I don’t mind.” She paused, really taking in the room around them. It was a mess, an echo of her own apartment, but so much worse, given her own lack of personal effects. And -- those were skulls. The ones she gave him. Her eyes were immediately drawn to them, and she smiled a bit despite the circumstances. Looked back at Kaden. “Do you want to sit together? I’ll order food. Um, and maybe tell them to leave it outside, given it might take us an hour to reach the door.” Before he could open his mouth to protest, she interrupted. “And I know you’re going to say that you’re not hungry, that you have food here, whatever, but you’ll want it later.” A gentle sigh. “We can talk about anything. You can tell me what happened, what you’re feeling, or I can ramble about autopsies, complain about Dr. Rickers. His beard is back, you know.”

After feeling like his face was burning from everything that had happened earlier and from so much fucking crying, the chill from her skin was more than welcome, calming in a different way than warmth would have been. Like being woken up or refreshed by a cool breeze or the cold side of a pillow. Kaden nodded and loosened his grip around her back ever slightly. Only then did it really register what had just happened. Her wings. He’d-- he’d been touching them this whole time and it was… fine. It wasn’t really any stranger than her lack of body heat and he’d gotten pretty used to that by now. Whenever she touched his hand, he expected it to be ice cold, it was normal to him in a way. Strange to think wings could be next.

Kaden took a deep breath in before he pulled away from her. He still felt completely drained but not as entirely empty. “I’m not--” The interruption was immediate. But she was right. He’d said it enough to Blanche by now, he knew she was right. “Yeah. good idea. Uh, doesn’t matter to me, though. You pick.” He took his hand in hers and stared down at it before turning his head to look behind him. One glance around the room and it was clear there was nowhere to sit just yet. Mess didn’t begin to cover it. “Uh, bedroom is a little cleaner. If you want to sit there. As much as I hate eating in bed.” While that was true, he also could only see the shape of his mother, full of hate, pushing against the limits of the circle that was now burned into his rug forever. He shut his eyes and scrunched his nose and fought to remember the figure of her at Hanging Rock. Which was still hard to see. Hard to feel like he even liked that version of her anymore. He felt little paw pads and nails digging into the top of his leg and his eyes opened to see Abel on his hind legs balancing to say hi to his owner. A trace of a smile cast on his face as he rubbed under the dog’s chin. “Sitting. We should sit. Somewhere. And tell me about the beard.” He had a feeling he’d spill everything that happened in a minute or so but his mind was a mess and all he wanted was to hear something that wasn’t about ghosts or fairies or werewolves.

They could worry about food a little later. Regan was going to have to borrow his phone for that one, anyway. At least he wasn’t going to argue after that initial, half-hearted protest. Regan kept her hand curled around his arm as they broke apart, and nodded at his suggestion of the bedroom. Navigating to the couch right now was going to be a challenge, and she wasn’t even sure the couch was in any condition to be used. She gave Abel a quick pat on the head and guided Kaden toward the bedroom, stepping over fallen books and decor and miscellania. There was a heaviness to his walk, like he could barely hold himself up, and it made Regan’s chest tighten with concern. Beard. She could talk about the beard. That would help. Well, Kaden seemed to think so.

Kaden was right -- the bedroom was in better shape, though clothes were scattered across the room and it looked like the drawers of his cabinets had vomited everything out. Regan took a cautious seat on the bed, wings successfully flicking themselves out of the way this time to not be sat on, and twisted her lips in thought. Whenever she visualized that full, white beard, hairs covering every inch of her morgue, her anger was summoned. She couldn’t help it. “I swear it’s fuller than before,” she said, mouth sinking into a frown. “Erin, um, sent him Nair disguised as beard wax, or something. Long story. Might have been my fault. And there was respite for a while, but now it’s -- it’s back, and it’s huge, and it’s shedding even more.” She realized her teeth were showing, lips curled back in annoyance. Calm down. Sure, he was horrible, and unprofessional, and demeaning, and wouldn’t shut up about his grandchildren, but -- right. Calm down. She glanced at Kaden, sighed. Pressed her head against his shoulder. “Is this helping any? Because it kind of feels like you do actually want to talk about what happened.” Regan bit down on her lip, considering how to word this. “I understand, you know. That she was still your mother. Despite everything. And this was like -- I may not understand what happened, exactly, but I -- I know it was like losing her... again.”

There was salt strewn across the floor now that the circles didn’t matter, little paw prints imprinted in some of the larger piles. And everything else was in disarray. Still better than the living room. As Kaden sunk into the bed, he couldn’t help but notice her wings twitching out of the way as she sat next to him. It was still strange to see them move on their own for whatever reason. Probably because so often they seemed disconnected from her. The reminders that they weren’t some wholly separate entity attached to her were always a little jarring, as much as he knew otherwise. Any disgust he harbored towards them was hard to muster up after feeling the pure rage from his mother’s spirit. He didn’t want to feel anything like that. Possibly ever again if he could help it. Indifference was still about all he could manage.

Kaden sighed and leaned into her. It was hard to focus on what she was saying. He wanted to. All he wanted to do was just ignore all the thoughts etched in his mind from earlier, all the horrible things that his mother had screamed into his head, the pain of her spirit being ripped out of his body. And worst of all, what it all added up to. He shut his eyes and tried to picture the other medical examiner without his signature beard, Regan brushing away the little white hairs. All he saw was the circle burning into the ground, the lines of anger digging into his mother’s face, the look on Rebecca’s face when she spoke in that other voice. His eyes shot open and Regan was looking at him. Shit. Even in the middle of a rant, she could see this wasn’t working. “It’s-- I mean…” His lip trembled before he could even try to force down the emotion. “I want it to.” He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath through his nose. It didn’t hold everything back. For a moment all he could do was nod at her words. “It sucks. And it hurts. And she was-- I saw her this time. And heard her.” He didn’t need to say it was awful. Regan knew. She had to. “I feel guilty for wishing--” For wishing he didn’t have to let her go. Like that. “Mourning that feels wrong.”

Regan wrapped an arm around Kaden’s back and held him close; normally that filled her with warmth, but right now, he was just so sad, and she ached with him. It was weird seeing him this vulnerable. Awful. Tears pricked her own eyes whenever she looked at him. This dredged up some buried emotions, mourning alone by necessity after her dad died. She wasn’t going to let Kaden mourn alone, too, just because he felt guilty about it. Her heart sank when he said that he saw his mother, heard her. When had that happened? She had been here, presumably, before “going away”. The state of the house spoke to that; she doubted the mess was all from when Blanche came over.

“I’m so sorry.” There was little else that could be said. Regan could only imagine the vitriol and the venom his mom spewed at him, knowing that he could hear. “Whatever she said to you, it’s not true, okay? She -- I don’t see reason to detail out everything she said in my apartment, but I’m guessing it was just as bad or worse, when you heard her. It’s not true.” She reached her arm out, stretched it over his and intertwined their fingers. “And she was your mother, Kaden. She may have almost murdered us, but I -- there -- maybe there were things about her, about growing up with her in your life, that weren’t bad. Maybe there were even good things.” Though from the sound of things, they were mostly bad. And Kaden had been submerged in her toxic beliefs for decades before shaking free of them. Regan pushed that thought back and squeezed his hand. “Do you want to tell me something positive? About -- about her?” Maybe there was one thing. Something tiny.

This was the third time he’d mourned the last time he’d see his mother. Every time he’d thought it was truly the last. Her death, when he tossed the coin; those hurt. This one was the worst. This time Kaden knew it was final. More final than death, even. Every trace of her soul was gone from the earth. Destroyed. And if he’d just been an adult for two minutes and faced his problem before it swallowed him whole, maybe it could have gone differently. Maybe there was no use in worrying about that now, but it clung to his mind almost as fiercely as he clung to Regan then. He was grateful not to be alone for once in this. As if on cue, Abel hopped onto the bed and curled up next to Kaden’s other side. It was hard not to try for a smile at that as he gave the dog’s scruff a quick ruffle. Plus, he’d reached one of those points where there were no tears left. Even then, had a feeling that wouldn’t last, they’d find him again.

“I can try,” Kaden said with a small nod, gripping her hand in his. He scrunched his eyes closed, trying to push away all the recent memories of his mother to clear the way to his childhood. It all felt tainted. He knew now she never said she was proud of him, even when he was sure she had, had never given much praise at all, really. Just always expected the best, better from him. Held him to such a high standard. And before he’d thought that meant it was because she thought so highly of him. It didn’t feel that way now. He scraped and searched his mind. “She, uh, she taught me to bake. Some of it, at least. I, uh… I think it was the only time I ever saw her relax a little.” Part of it made him never want to pick up a rolling pin ever again, associating it with her. If he could cut out all the parts of him that were like her, he wouldn’t be that ever, right? He could do that. “But I feel like everything I remembered about her, it was-- it wasn’t right. Like I changed it or thought--”

Had she asked the wrong question? Galen, she really was no good at these kinds of things. Kaden looked like he was in physical pain as he tried to conjure up a memory that wasn’t horrible, and Regan’s stomach twisted with anticipation. Was there anything? Maybe his mother really had been this monster throughout Kaden’s whole life; she figured that the thoughts she’d voiced, the hate she spewed, it couldn’t have appeared out of nowhere. It was there all along. And now that Kaden knew, it likely colored everything else. Regan could empathize with that -- just before her dad had died, the comments he’d made forced her to see everything through a new lens, one where he lived in fear of his daughter. Sometimes it really was better not to know, wasn’t it? She stayed leaning against him, squeezed his hand. “If --” But Kaden thought of something. Baking. Of course. Regan nodded. She didn’t want to interrupt, to break his concentration.

His next comment confirmed what she’d suspected. This experience had burned the edges of all of his other memories with her. Maybe deservedly. But looking back, seeing what used to be happy moments for what they really were, it hurt. It hurt worse than most things. Regan hugged him, rubbed his back, and even Abel seemed to sense his owner’s distress and pawed his knee. Or maybe he just wanted his stomach scratched. She breathed in and looked him in the eyes, saw fresh, shining trails on his cheeks. “Like you were trying to think the best of her?” Regan gave him a small, watery smile. “She was your mother. I think it’s natural for you to have wanted her approval, to have trusted her. But seeing all of those moments in a new light, it’s --” She looked at her lap for a moment. “--It’s painful. Transformative. And then you’re stuck mourning, regardless.” She stayed silent for a beat, reminded again of her own dad. Vulture, he’d called her. “It’s okay not to know what to do with that.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s--” It was so accurate it cut through him. The memory of talking to his mother’s ghost at Hanging Rock choked him. How clearly it started to become to him that his memories had been glossed over with lies. Kaden hadn’t considered just how bad it could be. “I was never good enough, though.” Even at his best, even trying his hardest. So certainly not now. “I don’t-- I don’t think she was ever proud of me. I can’t remember her saying it.” Not once. A smile, maybe. A nod, perhaps. But that was it. All he ever did, all of it was to try and make them proud. Or what he thought they’d be proud of. Until now. Fuck. Did he even want her to be proud of him anymore?

He did. Desperately.

But he wanted it to be for exactly who he was and not for some unattainable standard. Which wasn’t how the Langleys saw it. Be the best or you get yourself killed. Not how he intended that statement to be fulfilled, he thought, letting out a small tear choked laugh.

Tracing patterns with his thumb on her hand as Kaden held it tight, it struck him again how well she hit right at the core of what he was feeling. And as much as this hurt, it was lessened ever slightly in her presence. When he looked up at her again, she was looking down. Shit. He should have known. She’d just lost a parent. And didn’t let him or anyone else in once while mourning. She wasn’t just talking about his mother. He gave her hand another squeeze. “I’m sorry.” For not being there, for what happened, for putting her in this situation, for all of this dragging it all back up so soon.

Regan’s brow furrowed as Kaden said his mother had never been proud of him. She believed it was never said. Some people were like that, unfortunately. She was pretty sure her own dad only ever declared that he was proud of her when she managed to stay away from a dead squirrel on the lawn, or expressed interests outside of what he considered “morbid”. Regan sighed through her teeth. If Kaden’s mother hadn’t ever been proud of him, would she have been so disappointed now? Didn’t one emotion necessitate the other? She wasn’t completely sure. “I’m proud of you, you know.” She leaned further into his side, giving him a gentle nudge on the shoulder with her head. “You questioned what she taught you. That’s -- as far as I can tell, her not being proud of you means you turned out to be a good person, Kaden. Not that that makes any of this easier. I know. Nothing does.”

Why was he apologizing? Did he -- Regan looked up at him, felt his hand squeeze hers, and she knew. Her breath caught in her throat and eventually trailed out into a long sigh. “I’m sorry, too.” She shook her head. It wasn’t even her dad that ate at her, at this point. It was the hole in her life that used to be filled by Reilly and Al. It was everything feeling wrong, like there was death around every corner. It was wings and screaming. She swallowed, let go of his hand, and shook out her nerves a bit. She really didn’t want to discuss her dad with him now, maybe not ever. “Hey, um… how about that food?” She raised an eyebrow and, without waiting, fished in Kaden’s pocket for his phone. She ordered Chinese food to be delivered outside, as discussed, and collapsed back onto the bed. Right on the wings. She’d forgotten about them for -- well, for a while. How? How could she forget about them? Still, that alien sensation squirmed back under her skin, and she sat back up, switching to her side. Abel also stretched out across the bed, like a person, somehow taking up more space than his size afforded him. “I think your dog is telling you to get a bigger bed.”

Kaden could feel his breath grow shaky again as he inhaled. Even if he still wasn’t sure being a failure at what he was born to do was something to be proud of, it sure sounded nice when she said it. And shit, it just felt nice to hear someone say it. Even if it wasn't the same. Maybe it was better. He sniffled back a fresh wave of tears. He wasn’t sure how he could feel comforted and so fucking hurt at the same time but there it was. Words were too hard and he was fucking sick of tears spilling out between them. He turned and kissed the top of her head instead before squinting his eyes shut and forcing out the water flooding into his eyes.

When she stood to order the food with his phone (where was-- oh right, banshee and glass didn’t mix), Kaden was pretty sure he drifted to sleep for a minute or two. It was all so draining, keeping his eyes open was a struggle. They blinked back open when she settled back onto the bed and he watched her briefly struggle with the wings. Weird how easy it was to forget about them now. His head tilted as he watched them sprawl just a little from her back onto the side of the bed. He waited for the pit to drop into his stomach, the familiar feeling of disgust, but something about all of it, her, the angle maybe, her wings almost looked delicate. Ethereal, even. Before he could even begin to process what the hell had just floated through his mind, Abel made himself comfortable. Settling in right in between them. His head pounded as he laughed but it still felt better than the majority of his day had treated him. “The biggest bed in the world wouldn’t stop him from doing that,” he said shaking his head at the dog who was sprawled halfway across him. Kaden went to nudge him out of the way and got slobbery kisses from the dog instead. He laughed again and angled the dog’s nose away from his face. “You’re staying right?”

Regan couldn’t help but smile a little as she watched Kaden’s eyes starting to close; he was struggling to stay awake, and she figured she might be putting his food in the fridge. But that was okay. She knew he’d eat it eventually. It was more important that he rested, especially after the day he had. She relaxed -- well, a little, as much as she was capable -- and sprawled out next to Abel, gave him a scratch behind the ears. She was pretty sure that was a common place to scratch dogs, and he seemed to like it. She laughed as Kaden unsuccessfully tried to push him off the bed; it looked like Abel became dead weight, rolling over and licking Kaden’s face instead. Regan made a mental note to avoid kissing that particular cheek. “Yes, I can say with a high degree of confidence that he’s staying here, although I hope you didn’t actually expect him to answer you ba--”

What Kaden was asking then hit her over the head. He wasn’t talking to Abel. “Oh.” Regan’s hand froze mid-scratch and she sat up. “You mean, for dinner. Of course. I ordered food for two, and I’m not -- I won’t just leave.” But she studied his face. He didn’t just mean for dinner. The wings suddenly felt heavy as they snapped tightly against her back. Her hand reflexively went to her neck, trying to palm the necklace that wasn’t there. She still wasn’t used to feeling the damn things against her at night, they roused her constantly, and she had no doubt that’d be a rude awakening for Kaden, too. Probably in a literal sense. And that was -- well, that was just sleeping. Everything else was certainly off the table. “I, uh... I wouldn’t want to take Abel’s spot on the bed. He looks pretty comfortable.” Regan didn’t want to sit on the bed anymore. She hoisted herself off, gave Kaden’s shoulder a quick squeeze and found her eyes looking to the floor, cluttered with clothes and books. So many of them with French on their covers. “Dinner. Cleaning. Maybe some Forensic Files, because somehow it’s always on. It’s a very reliably programmed television show. I’ll tell you more about the beard hairs, if you want. Then I should probably --” Her stomach felt like an empty hole. Kaden still looked so deflated, and his eyes were puffy, and... “Do you want me to? Stay?”

Kaden wasn't sure what was confusing about his question. She’d come over. It was late. It wasn’t like she hadn’t stayed the night there before. Even though he was sure nothing but sleeping was happening this time, not while he couldn’t fucking walk across a room without feeling like his knees would buckle. Still, apparently this was a complicated question because she sure had a lot of things to say without answering the question at all. Why was this so diff-- The wings snapped closed and that answered that.

As she stood, Kaden struggled to push himself to sit up a little more on the bed and that was enough to make him sure he wasn’t standing again any time soon unless he absolutely had to. Abel flipped over and rested his head in Kaden’s lap, eyes fixed on Regan, like he was wondering why she left the spot he’d allowed her. “I’m pretty sure he was fine with you there.” A small grunt from the dog didn’t exactly back him up. Traitor.

The more she talked, the more Kaden was sure she’d always intended to leave. Putain. Why did that sting a little? He should have guessed this. “I mean…” Yes. “I just thought without the--” No necklace, no time limit. However, 100% more wings. That was the issue, obviously. Did she still think he couldn’t put up with them? Maybe telling her about the ‘hate crime’ had affected her even more than he thought it had. He shook his head. There was no reason not to say what he wanted. “I, uh--” He sighed. Spit it out. “Yeah. Yes. I would. If, you know. Only if you’re…” Sure? Comfortable? He didn’t now. Both, even. “Don’t feel like you have to, though,” he said, offering her a half hearted smile that he’d meant to be a lot more assuring.

Without the -- without the what? Then it clicked. Of course. Part of him, even if he didn’t fully realize it, was viewing the lack of the necklace as a positive. Certainly not that it was broken, but that she didn’t need to wear it around him. It meant staying longer, staying overnight without panic and early alarms. Regan met his tired eyes, listened to his nervous, broken sentences, and slowly, cautiously sat back down on the bed. Abel immediately rolled back onto his back, nose pointed to the ceiling. They were in a relationship. Hell, they loved each other. This shouldn’t be a barrier; it was stupid. But at the same time, they both clearly felt some discomfort over it, right? Her mind was tired, drained; she didn’t want to think about wings or screaming or “death predictions”. Kaden looked even more exhausted for different reasons entirely. The decision coalesced in her brain. She scooted closer to him, giving Abel a polite nudge out of the way, and leaned against him again, stretched out her legs so she was lying down. Everything seemed to loosen up a little. “I’ll stay, but only if I can rearticulate that coyote skeleton that fell to pieces. I think Abel might be tempted to use it as a chew toy.”

Relief washed over Kaden as she sat back down on the bed. He wasn’t delusional enough to think those wings weren’t going to smack him at least one more time in the middle of the night by accident. And he wasn't sure how he felt about it but he was pretty sure he was going to be dead to the world for the night the second he let himself drift to sleep. But more than anything, he just didn’t want to wake up alone. Not after all this. Not to all of this. It was a disaster. All of it. Maybe not them, though. Not yet, at least. Not right now. He smiled as she leaned in and Abel settled in somewhere on top of Kaden’s legs. “I’d expect nothing less. But good luck finding all of the--” He stopped short. That wouldn’t be an issue. They both knew that. Guess there were worse weird supernatural powers to have. They couldn't be finding a missing sock, though? He pushed out a breath, not quite a sigh. “I’d like to watch, though. And make sure Abel doesn’t get any ideas.” As long as he could keep himself upright, that was. Sleep was coming for him fast. The thought of what he might see in his dreams didn’t scare him as much as it did earlier the night. Especially since he could count on the nightmares being interrupted by a set of wings at least once. Strange what had become comforting.

#wickedswriting #writing #chatzy #make you better #regan #kadavernagh #cw parental death #cw grief

13 notes · View notes