[He'd say the last thing if- if he thought it would make a difference, if it wouldn't just spiral everything beyond his control in a way he couldn't save.
If it wouldn't kill Seth in the process. The pause is lengthy]
[It takes him a minute to get up and let him into the rover, barely waits for him to get inside before he's curling fingers around the hem of Seth's shirt, pulling him towards the cockpit, and using him as an anchor both.
He'll let go, the second the rover door shuts, the second no one else can get in, and it cuts them off from it all. He doesn't know why he's doing this, almost regrets sending the message at all.
But if anyone will get it, more than Elena, it's probably Seth]
[ Everything seems wrong. The way Stefan's acting, how he holds himself, tugging Seth like he needs to grab something. Stefan's not exactly chatty, even on the best days, but the silence that greets Seth now is unnerving. Nonetheless, he follows Stefan without a word. When they enter the cockpit, he claps his free hand on Stefan's shoulder, a reassuring shake.
For his part, Seth is calm, relaxed by the lack of predicted bodies in the area and entirely focused on Stefan. ]
[ in a considerably softer tone than usual. ] Hey, what's going on with you?
[ After all, what could possibly warrant a '911' call, if Stefan and everyone else appear physically unharmed? ]
[He's stopped inching around his space- languid and lazy, like a predator that already knows it's won and doesn't mind taking it's time. That wants to coax out the easiest route. He's never quite capable of hiding it, when he's in motion too long.
But now there's something distinctly human about it all- shoulders curled in to make himself small in the space, curl in a little further to press into that touch. He keeps his gaze rooted to the floor, crosses his arms around his waist in short, awkward motions- like he hasn't quite decided to do it.
He was never an extrovert, not even when he was alive, but he's got a handle on talking. On delivering important information and dry humour and leaving the excess to someone else. Seth is calm, but Stefan can't settle into it, can't make himself form words.
If he says it, if he contextualizes it- it's more real than it was moments ago. Than it was an hour ago when Elena first told him. If he tells someone who doesn't know anything about this at all- it makes it so much bigger than him. It means he failed. And he can't fix it.
But he didn't call Seth here to hide behind the denial, just behind him. It takes a long, long moment- and they're wet and thick when he forces them out between his teeth, clenched like they're being torn out instead]
Damon- my brother- Damon's dead.
[And not the way in which Stefan is dead, a way in which Stefan doesn't know if he can follow]
[ The hand on Stefan's shoulder goes slack. Damon's dead. His vampire brother is dead, just as easily as Seth's own vampire brother could be dead. Seth thinks back to Lusiana, his reunion with Richie where he failed to say all the things he told the mirror before. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for getting caught trying to avenge our piece of shit father. Sorry for leaving you alone for years. For dragging you to Mexico. For letting you die. For telling you to stay away. He's trying so hard in all his deeds, but words so often fail him.
He should have said something to his brother on that ship.
But he didn't.
He pushes all those thoughts aside because they're selfish even when they're not, zeroing in on Stefan. It takes him a moment, so he sets down the bottle. When he recovers, it's at full force, like always. Seth remembers seeing Richie's limp body, shirt soaked with blood, feeling the weight of that loss when Ranger Gonzales told him you're brother's gone. There is no feeling like it. You can't possibly imagine it, if you've never felt it — if you've never lost someone that you would die to protect.
The floor disappears from under you, and if you don't find something to hold onto, you'll fall.
Once he gathers himself, Seth wraps his arms around Stefan, the movement just as sure as last time (in the avalanche). There are no words for this; a deed is the best he can do, and holding someone has always been his go to method, as if he can pull them back together with the action. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
If it wouldn't kill Seth in the process. The pause is lengthy]
FROM: salvatore.stefan@cdc.org
alcohol
no subject
FROM: gecko.seth@cdc.org
on it. gimme two minutes, tops.
[ and like he said: two minutes and he's at stefan's rover, knocking, with the fancy whisky gliese gave him in hand. ]
no subject
ok
[It takes him a minute to get up and let him into the rover, barely waits for him to get inside before he's curling fingers around the hem of Seth's shirt, pulling him towards the cockpit, and using him as an anchor both.
He'll let go, the second the rover door shuts, the second no one else can get in, and it cuts them off from it all. He doesn't know why he's doing this, almost regrets sending the message at all.
But if anyone will get it, more than Elena, it's probably Seth]
no subject
For his part, Seth is calm, relaxed by the lack of predicted bodies in the area and entirely focused on Stefan. ]
[ in a considerably softer tone than usual. ] Hey, what's going on with you?
[ After all, what could possibly warrant a '911' call, if Stefan and everyone else appear physically unharmed? ]
no subject
But now there's something distinctly human about it all- shoulders curled in to make himself small in the space, curl in a little further to press into that touch. He keeps his gaze rooted to the floor, crosses his arms around his waist in short, awkward motions- like he hasn't quite decided to do it.
He was never an extrovert, not even when he was alive, but he's got a handle on talking. On delivering important information and dry humour and leaving the excess to someone else. Seth is calm, but Stefan can't settle into it, can't make himself form words.
If he says it, if he contextualizes it- it's more real than it was moments ago. Than it was an hour ago when Elena first told him. If he tells someone who doesn't know anything about this at all- it makes it so much bigger than him. It means he failed. And he can't fix it.
But he didn't call Seth here to hide behind the denial, just behind him. It takes a long, long moment- and they're wet and thick when he forces them out between his teeth, clenched like they're being torn out instead]
Damon- my brother- Damon's dead.
[And not the way in which Stefan is dead, a way in which Stefan doesn't know if he can follow]
no subject
He should have said something to his brother on that ship.
But he didn't.
He pushes all those thoughts aside because they're selfish even when they're not, zeroing in on Stefan. It takes him a moment, so he sets down the bottle. When he recovers, it's at full force, like always. Seth remembers seeing Richie's limp body, shirt soaked with blood, feeling the weight of that loss when Ranger Gonzales told him you're brother's gone. There is no feeling like it. You can't possibly imagine it, if you've never felt it — if you've never lost someone that you would die to protect.
The floor disappears from under you, and if you don't find something to hold onto, you'll fall.
Once he gathers himself, Seth wraps his arms around Stefan, the movement just as sure as last time (in the avalanche). There are no words for this; a deed is the best he can do, and holding someone has always been his go to method, as if he can pull them back together with the action. ]