The words hurt more than Titus expected them to. At once, he lost his voice, and his breath for that matter. He felt a dagger through his heart would've been kinder. Painful as it was, another question was plaguing him, one he'd had for years but was always too afraid to ask. Now, he couldn't hold it back, though he knew the answer would shatter him.
"But that's not how you feel about Rathus, is it?" He asked softly. The change in volume took her off guard. Watching her, he could see it took a few moments for her to process his words. Once they sank in, she looked stricken. "He was always better than me… wasn't he?"
Her silence was answer enough. Feeling tears stinging his eyes, he turned from her angrily. He refused to let himself cry in front of her, not after that. He wouldn't let her mock or pity him any more than she already had.
"You really are nothing more than a self-important, ungrateful bastard," She stated.
"At least I don't pretend to be fine when I'm not," Titus snapped. "Or are my feelings too unsightly for you? I'm sorry I haven't locked my heart in a box of ice deep in an emotionless void yet. I'll get right on that."
"You just won't let it go, will you?" She huffed. "If you hate it here so much, nothing's stopping you from leaving. In fact, I really hope you go. I'm sick of babysitting you."
So saying, she stormed back out of the shed. The walls rattled she slammed the door so hard behind her. Not that Titus cared. He had too much swirling around in his head to notice. Little did he realize, the storm wasn't quite over yet.
"Are you happy now?" Rathus's voice carried over the empty room. "Are you satisfied?"
"What?" Titus looked at him, dazed. It was obvious his older brother was angry, but Titus felt so detached it hardly seemed to matter.
"You've made your point, and you've got your answer," Rathus snapped. "So what are you going to do now? You better do something. I refuse to let you mope around and bitch to me."
"Ok," Titus replied. The response seemed to infuriate Rathus more. Titus watched dumbly as his brother marched over to him and seized him by the front of the shirt.
"You will either contribute to this family, or you will get out," Rathus growled. "No more of this playing the victim bullshit. I'm done putting up with it."
"You going to kill me?" Titus questioned numbly. At the moment, the idea didn't sound half bad. It was becoming pretty clear no one wanted him there anyway.
"Not unless you're stupid enough to attack," Rathus snapped, "But if you don't start getting your act together, I'm not going to stop them from hauling you out. Might kick you to the curb myself."
"Sure, you do that…" Titus nodded. It felt like ice was filling his lungs and leaking out his eyes. Was he crying? He wasn't entirely sure.
Rathus said something else, but Titus wasn't completely sure what. The buzzing in his head had grown so loud, he couldn't even see straight. He was only dimly aware when the door slammed and the walls shook for a second time.
For a while, he simply sat there trying to make sense of what was happening. Then the words of Trixie and Rathus started echoing through his head, and it felt as though the ground had been pulled out from under him. At once, he was falling, or perhaps drowning. He couldn't be sure. One way or another, he was sinking lower and lower into his own personal abyss. Just as it seemed he'd fall too far to have any hope of going back, warmth on his shoulder stopped his descent.
"Hey, are you alright?" The soft words brought him out of the blackness to something closer to reality. Everything seemed foggy, but at least he was seeing what was around him now.
"Oh, it's you," Titus heard himself say as he focused enough to realize the person beside him was Emerick. An hour ago, he would've gone ballistic. Now, he didn't have the energy to care. Idly, he wondered how long he'd been there.
"Yeah, it is me," Emerick smiled, though he looked worried. Was he actually worried about Titus? The thought amused him.
"Rathus isn't here," Titus pointed out. He was only just realizing this fully himself. And with Rathus gone, what other reason could Emerick have for being there?
"I'm not here to see Rathus," Emerick replied. "I'm here for you."
"Why me?" Titus questioned. Of all the people out there, Emerick had to most reason to be angry with him. Titus had been nothing but nasty to the guy for no real reason other than his own jealousy and fear. How did it make sense that everyone was angry about how Titus treated Emerick except Emerick himself?
"Because the only two people you spend any time with on a regular basis have spent the afternoon laying into you," Emerick replied. "You don't look well for it."
"Why do you care?" Titus questioned in confusion. It was an honest question, and he wanted to know the answer.
"Because, contrary to what Trixie or Rathus seem to think, you do care, and you are trying to help," Emerick replied. "I've seen that garden, how much it's flourished since you arrived, and I know you're responsible. If you were truly nothing more than an ungrateful and bitter ass, you wouldn't have taken such good care of what you see as my garden. For that matter, you wouldn't have three crates of different balms, salves, oils, and perfumes stuffed under your table, knowing that Rathus intends to sell them through me. You wouldn't be trying—albeit in a very roundabout and unconstructive way—to clue Trixie in to the perilous situation she's putting everyone in even as she tries to protect and coddle them."
Titus stared at him dumbly. What Emerick was saying really had him reeling. None of it made sense. His reality was becoming truly warped if his enemy could see and appreciate his efforts better than the people he loved.
"How long have you been listening?" He asked softly.
"I was actually just outside for both arguments you had today," Emerick smiled wanly.
"Ah," Titus managed to say. So he had heard it all. That made the fact that he was there all the more puzzling. Titus hadn't said anything especially flattering about the young lord.
Wordlessly, Emerick took a seat beside Titus. They sat there in silence for some time, and Titus couldn't decide if he was uncomfortable or relieved. Perhaps his was some combination of both. He got the sense Emerick was waiting for something, but he wasn't quite sure what.
"So, what now?" Emerick questioned.
"I don't know," Titus replied.
He didn't really know what he wanted. For so long, their only goal was to make money and move out of the orphanage, he really hadn't thought about what to do past that point. Now they had something of a home, but he felt like he really wasn't welcome there. He was still angry with everything, he was dimly aware of that fact, but he didn't actually want to leave his family. He was frustrated, but he still cared about the others and their well-being. Even if they didn't want him anymore, he wanted to help them.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Emerick questioned, seeing his distant stare.
"Sure," Titus chuckled. "May as well."
He spent the rest of the afternoon talking to Emerick. The conversation started off awkward and halted, but as he gained traction the words flowed more and more easily. He was so absorbed in talking, he barely noticed when Emerick pulled him from the shed, led him to a carriage, and took him off the grounds. As he talked, and talked, and talked, Emerick took him to a restaurant. Titus couldn't remember what he'd ordered, or what he'd eaten, but he was vaguely aware of the fact that it had tasted better than anything he'd eaten in weeks.
Through his tirade, Emerick sat and patiently listened to it all. There were no judgements, no criticism, just the occasional question for clarification or relatable comment. It had been so long since someone simply sat and listened to Titus, he really didn't know how to stop himself. He shared things with Emerick he hadn't been able to share even with his brother.
He told Emerick about his unrequited love for Trixie, though he was now questioning if it was truly love he felt for her. He shared his jealousy of his brother and the insecurities he'd harbored over the idea that Trixie preferred him, though both had agreed not to pursue her.
He related stories of their time in the orphanage. He relayed his experiences with all of the children, all of the times he was proud of them and all of the times he wanted nothing more than to rip his hair out. He shared the experiences of changing diapers and watching the others grow, of the strengths and interests they told him and Rathus about as they learned and grew. He expressed his fear that he'd lost them because of his resentment.
He spoke of all the experiments he'd conducted, of the successes and the failures and the good and bad that had come from it. He told Emerick about his fears he'd been somehow responsible for Phineas's death, that the balms he'd made the older goblin boy had actually escalated problem. He spoke of his admiration for Phineas before his untimely death.
As he spoke, he let his emotions show freely. He laughed, he cried, he growled, he exclaimed in disbelief. Through it all, Emerick calmly listened, which only made the man all the more perplexing. Even when Titus finally got around to admitting his resentment and jealousy of the young lord, Emerick never once berated him. If anything, he laughed about the young orc's perspective.
"Geez, with that kind of perspective, I seem like a villain!" He chuckled. "It's no wonder you wouldn't even look at me!"
"I have to admit, I do like you a little better now," Titus grumbled bashfully. "I mean… I'm still a little bitter that you're Trixie's boyfriend… but assuming you don't hate me… and assuming I don't get kicked out… we could maybe be friends?"
"I only wish I was her boyfriend!" Emerick laughed. "To call me something between a boy toy and a meal ticket would be more accurate."
"And you're ok with that?" Titus wondered. "I mean… doesn't it hurt?"
"I don't take it personally," Emerick shrugged. "She's not ready to face those kinds of feelings, and I am content to wait, but it's not for everyone."
"I couldn't do it," Titus admitted. "I guess that much is pretty clear already."
"That's not a bad thing," Emerick patted his shoulder. "Give it time, and the pain will lessen. You'll become more confident about who you are, and eventually you may even find someone better for you."
"That's a pipe dream if I've ever heard one," Titus smiled in spite of himself. "Still, it's a nice thought. Thanks for listening to me."
"You're already looking a lot better," Emerick commented as the carriage bounced along. "How long have you been bottling all that up?"
"I don't really know," Titus shrugged. Glancing around he realized it was quite dark. Idly, he wondered if the others had even noticed he was gone.
"We probably should be getting back," Emerick commented, also glancing out the window. Now that Titus was paying more attention, he realized there were all sorts of boxes and bags filling the carriage around them. Had they really gone shopping without him realizing it?
"I guess," Titus sighed. "But am I really allowed to go back?"
"I am the 'landlord' as you put it," Emerick winked. "I get final say of who does or doesn't live on my estate and I'm all too happy to keep you around. Besides that, contrary to what Trixie implied, the others would be devastated if you left. From what I've seen, they are worried about you, but apparently they're reluctant to approach the shop because they're convinced they'll be blown up."
"They don't hate me?" Titus instantly felt lighter.
"Not one bit," Emerick said with confidence.
"That… that's good to know," Titus smiled. "By the way, what is all this?"
"Ingredients," Emerick replied. "Or do you call it materials? It's for your work, one way or another."
"My work?" Titus questioned. "All this?"
"The better the material and the equipment, the better the product," Emerick replied. "Besides, we're friends now, are we not?"
"Yeah," Titus smiled, feeling teary again. "I guess we are."