The moment he had reached his room, Cardin had followed his flight instinct and begun snatching clothes out of the cupboard, flinging them haphazardly onto the bed. He didn't have a bag. He needed a bag. He needed to get out of here, get as far away as humanly possible. He had gone as far as to call Nimue, intending to ask her if he could stay at her place, but the moment she had picked up and he heard the concern in her voice, he had had to bite back the sobs that had threatened to escape from him, and wasn't able to make the request after all.
Before she had hung up, Nimue had hesitated.
"Cardin, I don't really know what's going on, and I don't want to overstep, but… If someone truly cares for you, try to give them credit for it, even if they don't show it in the best way." She had paused. "That's all I wanted to say. I hope it helps somehow."
After the call had ended, he had sunk to the floor, mind blank save for the remembrance of how Keary had pinned him helpless to the floor, so different from the night his warmth had pressed Cardin against the cupboard; how he had yanked at Cardin's hair, instead of slipping his hand along the blonde's neck to gently cup his face; how rough Keary's mouth had been on his, when all Cardin had been craving was to taste him…
"Cardin?" A knock sounded on the bedroom door, startling Cardin out of his reverie. "Hey, Cardin, are you in there?"
From outside, Nigel heard a clatter, and the thumping sounds of someone moving hastily to the door. It flew open, and suddenly an angelic apparition was before him, golden hair in disarray and blue eyes wide and filled with trepidation.
"There you are." Nigel blinked. "What–?"
At the sight of the familiar face, the cerulean eyes brimmed, and the angel rushed forward. Stunned, Nigel managed to catch Cardin as the blonde flung himself into his friend's arms. Arms encircling the smaller boy to hold him tight, Nigel bent to hear the words that he was sobbing over and over again:
"He's so cruel."
...
"So that's what happened…" Nigel sighed. He didn't even know how to begin making excuses for his friend. Your anger really fucked things up this time, Kear.
He looked across at Cardin, who was sitting on the floor with his back against the bed, hugging his knees to his chest as he stared despondently at the ground.
"Why does he keep shutting me out?" the blonde murmured, more to himself than to Nigel.
"Keary's life hasn't been… easy. He's lost too much, and… he's afraid of losing you. It isn't nearly a good enough reason for him to have done what he did though, of course."
Cardin groaned, his head dropping forward and his fists bunching frustratedly in his hair. "That doesn't make any sense! If he's afraid to lose me, he shouldn't be pushing me away!"
"People do strange things when they're scared," Nigel shrugged. "Keary isn't an exception. His fear for your safety runs pretty deep. He doesn't believe you have the mettle to take on this life and what it entails."
Cardin's mouth tightened into an angry line. "You know I can do it."
"I'm not the one you have to convince," Nigel returned softly. "But you need to ask yourself: is wrestling with him for this really worth it?"
That was the question. Cardin hesitated. What would he be fighting for right now? A place in Keary's life? In his little army? Would he just be risking having Keary turn on him again, like he did earlier? Was he even safe here anymore?
And yet… and yet it had been Keary who had saved him from freezing to death in the snow, Keary who had carried him back here when he could have left him there to die, who had nursed him patiently back to health. It had been Keary who had come for him, alone, when he had been kidnapped by the Russian, Keary who had made sure he had never wanted for anything. And ultimately, Cardin knew that it was Keary who made his new life possible.
But he couldn't keep battling against Keary's fear and fury forever.
Cardin swallowed, throat and chest tight. He knew what he had to do.
"Nigel?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry. For putting you in this difficult position."
"Nah." Nigel sighed heavily. "It's partly my fault you're in this mess." He shot a wry smile at the blonde, but was gracious enough not to remind him that it had been a bad idea for him to join the mission.
Cardin didn't return the smile. "I… also need to ask you for another really huge favour."
"What is it?"
The cerulean eyes stared at the floor for a long time before Cardin swallowed again and said, "I need you to bring me somewhere. And… don't tell Keary."
...
Keary heard the door of Cardin's room click locked behind Nigel as he left, and it stayed that way for the rest of the day. He didn't come out for lunch, nor dinner, and the trays of food Keary had left outside his door remained untouched.
Finally, a couple of hours past midnight, the dark-haired boy found himself pacing restlessly up and down the corridor. He knew there was nothing to excuse his earlier behaviour, but he had to say something, do something, anything, to try to make it right.
Hesitantly, he raised his fist and knocked softly. "Cardin?"
No answer.
He tried again. "Cardin? You didn't– There's been food out here for you."
Still no reply.
Keary stared down blankly at the doorknob, unsure what to do next. He didn't have any right to insist on a response, not after what he had done, but the anxiety that had been building inside him throughout the day was now skyrocketing through the roof. He had to know if Cardin was okay.
Of course not, you blooming idiot. Did you expect him to be waiting around to forgive you? He gripped his fists tight, fighting the urge to punch himself, then forced his hands open as he gathered himself to speak. "Cardin, I… I'm sorry. I know it's not enough, but I am sorry. I just– I lost my mind when I saw you'd been hurt. I know, it's not an excuse. I should never have… attacked you, like that. It will never happen again." He paused.
Silence.
"Cardin… please." A note of desperation seeped into his voice now as he stepped up close to the door. "You don't have to forgive me, but you have to eat… please. Even if you wish to leave… don't starve yourself."
There was still no answer, but from under the door, he felt a cold draught on his feet that had him blinking in confusion. The wind…? What– The window…?? His voice rose. "Cardin?? Cardin, are you alright in there??"
When there was still no reply, his sense of alarm grew. Did someone break in and take him again?? Stepping back a couple of paces, he kicked hard at the door, just beside the handle. The door flew open, and he dashed in.
Apart from the open window, nothing was amiss with the furniture in the room. The bed was neatly made, and everything was in place; no signs of break-in or struggle. The only problem was that there wasn't any sign of the golden-haired boy with blue eyes, nor any trace that he had ever been there.
Cardin Rasheville was gone.
...