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He has questions about the 'physics shenanigans' but also this is clearly not the time for them, and he realises he probably won't understand the explanation.

"It's easy to dismiss someone as being a little mad, and therefore not worthy of consideration," he says, thoughtfully, "and as though a madman's feeling might not be of great importance to him. You paint such a rosy picture of the social changes to come, César, but it grieves me to hear that this hasn't changed. Not one person asked about how you were handling things?"

César can make it understandable but he'd want to explain the entire thing. For like 30 minutes. Because it's kinda cool even if it ended up terribly.

"I may have... over-exaggerated how rosy the future is, I suppose. To give you two hope." His muscles tighten up, and he's alarmed that he can feel like another bout of tears might begin. "But people too 'different'...."

He trails off, not wanting to explore that further, then speaks again after a moment to reorient. "There's one person who would, but I didn't her know because then Rex would've seen me break. I couldn't. Not when he couldn't see me. And now it's too dangerous to reach out."

César worries he's going to cry again. "... but other than her? You and Johnny were the first to care about me since the day I lost my entire family."

Oops, now there are tears sliding down his cheeks, and his throat is tight. "Rex's new family--all wonderful people--didn't care about my feelings just as deeply as they love Rex. Rex included. Why was I so unlovable to them, John? I know I was failing to be the brother Rex deserved, but... Why?"

Some things later make sense. But the initial time didn't. And that's the part that hurts.

Edited (added a line) 2022-05-08 20:19 (UTC)

"I can't answer that," Watson sighs. He adjusts his arm around César, pulling him closer, letting his fingers rest at the back of his neck. "I wish I knew. I could offer any number of theories, but nothing that has any substance to it. I have never found you unlovable, my dear. That's the only thing I can say for certain."

He presses a kiss into César's hair. "You are kind and you are good and you are frighteningly brilliant at times. You have passion and resolve. You've also worn your heart on your sleeve for as long as I've known you, and if you could not do that, well. Men do not do well when they pretend to be other than what they are."

"You made it safe to be me, from the very beginning." Oh, there's going to be another round of crying, and the touches all slowly peel away those last layers of false pretense as to how he truly feels. "My entirely family was like that. Rex still is."

César's chest is already sore from the last round. "He's exactly the same. Just older, more mature, wiser. A superhero. The only thing that's missing is his memories and me."

He takes in a gulp of air. "It's not his fault. I'll never blame him. Rex is sixteen, still a child. I'm grateful he's happy and healthy. I'm grateful he's loved and okay. But I'm supposed to be there for him, John. If anything ever happened to our parents, and it did, I was supposed to step in. I was supposed to rise to the occasion and take care of him."

Slowly, he shakes his head, his expression crumpling. "But by the time I was ready, things were broken. And he was gone. Over Christmas, when I wanted to start trying for real. I was unnecessary, anyway. Made redundant. Completely replaced. I was gone. There's nothing I can do for him now, other than to make sure he doesn't love me, to keep him away from Providence and safe."

César lets out a broken laugh. "I broke what little bonds we had on purpose. Just to be certain he'd stay away. There's no way he can ever love me. I thought I was okay with that. That I accepted that. But I don't want it. I wanted Rex to love me, if even just a little. He's the same... and he couldn't accept me."

Everything is tumbling out of his mouth. Every insecurity. Every raw emotion he's held up in him.

"Would he have loved me as a child, if I didn't watch him grow, if I hadn't been there since he was three hours old? Would my parents have loved me, had they not watched me grow, if they hadn't known me since before I was born? I asked myself these questions, until I met you. Until I met Johnny."

César lets go of Watson with one arm so he can cover his eyes, trying to block the tears from view even as his other hand clings to the back of Watson's coat. His voice comes out, hoarsely:

"But now he'll never love me. He can't. I've had to break too much. I'll never be able to be there for him, like I should be. The only thing that kept me going was knowing he'd be okay. Knowing he's got a family. Knowing that I had to save the world to save the world... which also included him."

This is why César didn't let himself feel these things. He didn't mind feeling overwhelming sadness. But overwhelming grief and sorrow, he hated. It hurt.

"Our parents would be so disappointed that I failed Rex. I've never failed them until now. But I failed the most important thing I could ever possibly fail."

But the worst thing about this is what César doesn't know. He doesn't know how desperately Rex wants to be loved by him. That Rex would have altered his path had he known how much César hurt. Rex wouldn't have run away; Rex would have been there for him, even for the brother he barely knew. He would have made it right in the ways that he could.

If Rex had seen César wearing his heart on his sleeve just like he did, he would have started seeing the similarities between them instead of the differences.

"I failed him. I failed him...." He covers his mouth instead of his eyes to muffle the sobs.

The two things. No one cared about his feelings and couldn't imagine him experiencing grief. Then, he had failed Rex entirely. It was all too much to bear alone.

Making soft hushing noises, Watson curls around César. There isn't much to say. There isn't much he can say. He won't promise things he can't, such as forgiveness or that things will work out, because he knows that in César's place he would see through it immediately and hate it. He doesn't know Rex, he doesn't know how a teenage boy he's never met sees the situation. There's too much here he can't possibly know.

"I'm here," he says, instead. "I'm here, my love. You did what you could in the moment. Anything else... well, the future is not ours to know. I'm here."

There's too much they both can't possibly know. César is proud of Rex. Proud of how good he is. And yet, he can't quite believe that Rex is good enough to understand and forgive him. But who can blame him?

César cries, because he was alone and isn't alone. He has two people that already love him so deeply. People who already turn and rely on him, here. Why is this cruise of horrors so much better than back home?

Rex would like John and Johnny. Perhaps more than his own brother. They're relatively normal compared to him. People that Rex could understand.

But that hurts to much to think about. So César doesn't. He just lets the tears happen, lets Watson's presence guide him through this moment. Finally, he can start to process the emotions he wouldn't let himself feel. He's safe, here.

Watson's words get a quiet nod, to show he heard. Otherwise, César will just cry himself out. For the second time, apparently. He shouldn't be surprised, considering how much it hurts, and yet....

Ever patient, Watson waits, drawing small circles on César's back as he weeps. Eight months of emotional turmoil will require a high price to be paid, apparently.

When the fit seems to have passed, he lets out a soft sigh, and lifts César's chin gently. "Here. I think that is a good start, don't you?" He smiles, kindly.

Indeed, it does. César comes out of it looking exhausted. The hand towel had to be fetched once more. He's glad he doesn't have a mustache, at any rate.

"I hope it's the end of most of it. But I know it isn't." César smiles up gently to him, looking ever so grateful and a bit guilty.

And in the spirit of all the confessions he's already made, he adds one more quietly. "Rex panicked when he came back at one point. Declared he was in an alternate universe, grabbed me by my goatee, and said 'And you're my brother's evil twin'."

He shrugs, eyes breaking contact with Watson's. "... I only kept it here because I knew I'd shave it off back home. It'd be a way to identify when Rex was from, since people were obviously coming from different times and places, were he to show." Then, he looks back up at Watson and smiles. "But you and Johnny like it so much that I'm learning to really love it again."

"Oh!" Realisation dawns on Watson's face. "At the party, that's why you reacted so oddly. I had no idea."

He's thoughtful for a moment, reaching out to touch César's cheek. "Should I refrain from tugging on it, then? I meant it fondly, but I can refrain from that, if you'd like. It is rather dashing, you know," he adds, with a playful smile. "Many people grow goatees but few look so handsome in it."

César blinks, then relaxes into a warm smile as he looks back up to Watson as Watson makes his little realization. Then, Watson keeps talking, and his smile widens. He leans into the hand on his cheek and closes his eyes, entirely relaxed.

"... Well, if you're going to say such nice things about it, what kind of man would I be to deny you?" Now that he's said his peace, he finds himself okay with it. "Besides, if Rex ever does show up and we somehow end up on good terms, the look on his face will be phenomenal if he saw you tugging on it."

He opens one eye to look up at Watson. "Rex makes the best faces. Flat out, the best I've ever seen."

Strange, how talking about Rex can break his heart or mend his heart within minutes of each thought. It's weird to even César.

"Better than yours? I'll believe it when I see it."

Because César makes wonderful faces, thank you very much. Whether they might ever been in a situation where Watson might be flirty in front of Rex is an entirely different question and probably not one worth thinking about too hard.

"But then, perhaps it's merely a family resemblance you share. Which I can well believe, as I have seen photographs of him."

A rumbling chuckle of a laugh, despite tired. "His are more intense than mine. But... it is one of the ways we're alike, yes."

He's pinged by a thought, and César looks a bit more vulnerable than he did before.

"... we're alike enough that, if he did show up here, things might be okay. You and Johnny would see him just as well as you see me."

César pauses, then lets his shoulder sag, looking a bit relieved. "What a strange thought after all of... that."

He's not quite sure what to say to that. As much as he would love to be witness to a reunion and reconciliation between them... Rex being here, anyone new being here, is something of a tragedy.

"Simply because the pair of you were surrounded by fools who don't know to look beyond their own thoughts doesn't mean that's the only sort of person in the world," Watson scoffs.

A rumbling chuckle at the statement. "We lacked time and people telling us we were idiots."

He leans against Watson again, boneless, and sighs as his smile fades. "... I mean, I wouldn't want him to be here. He's not emotionally indestructible. If he experiences anything traumatic enough, without emotional support... his nanites 'protect' him by wiping his memories. His carers called it 'rebooting'. Wiping the slate clean."

Slowly, he shakes his head. "An unfortunate side-effect we couldn't have predicted, as they were only supposed to heal physical wounds. But psychological trauma leaves its mark on you, physiologically...."

César gained access to the files. Experienced a close call almost caused by himself. Something he would've avoided had people told him what was up with his brother.

"He's used to fighting way worse than what we've experienced so far, but... he'd be a ticking timebomb unless he bonded with me or someone else." César's brows are furrowed with worry now. "I-I honestly wouldn't care who, as long as he had anyone. It's best if he never shows up."

Edited 2022-05-09 04:47 (UTC)

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