| Subject: Another plan |
Author:
Cas
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Date Posted: 22:37:46 07/01/02 Mon
In reply to:
Eremis, and Lonta
's message, "All better for now" on 18:15:32 07/01/02 Mon
“I really don’t mind working for Belald.”
Eremis’s comment took Cas a little off guard for some reason. He almost turned and asked his friend if he was crazy or something, but he held his tongue. (He was doing that a lot lately, he realized. Wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, either.) After all, this was the guy who’d somehow managed to find the guts to ask him about sex between people of the same gender. But hadn’t he only been anxious about it because of his supposed feelings for Belald? Maybe. On the other hand, Cas could clearly remember warning him, not just about Belald himself, but about all clients—they felt nothing for their whores, no matter how much it might seem otherwise.
He had to actually bite his tongue when Eremis bluntly referred to his encounters with Belald as “making love.” Whores don’t make love! he wanted to retort, but he was scared he’d get real mad again and scare his friend even more. Eremis was so obviously uncomfortable with having his arm around him, even though he was just too shy and polite to do anything about it. Cas stubbornly refused to move; he liked holding his friend, and it hurt too much to physically acknowledge that his presence wasn’t wanted right now.
If ever. He and the healer didn’t seem to agree on much of anything, lately, and he bet he wasn’t the only one to notice, either. Although his financial situation was a dream come true, he sometimes felt so emotionally drained it wasn’t worth it. He and Eremis didn’t exactly fight all the time, but the healer’s naivete and rather sweet simplicity made Cas worry about him almost constantly.
Take Lonta, for instance. Suppose the healer decided to make a habit out of bringing the rubble in from the streets to doctor them up in his home? All it took was one nasty-minded little thief or beggar to fake an injury or illness for things to go horribly wrong. Alone, Eremis would be utterly defenseless should one of his “patients” try to turn against him. Rape, greed, the desire to kill those weaker than oneself—any myriad of motives could apply. And if he even so much as mentioned that to Eremis, the healer would simply refuse to believe that such a thing could ever happen.
Cas sighed. Which was why he HAD to stay, whether he was wanted or not. Maybe Eremis found his presence stifling, but he needed Cas around to protect him. By no means did the demon boy consider himself a hard-hearted person, but under normal circumstances, he’d turn the other cheek and mind his own business. He helped those he was capable of helping, but he didn’t exactly go out of his way, changing his entire lifestyle, just to lend a helping hand. It just wasn’t practical. Only nothing he did or felt about Eremis was practical, but he did it anyway. That bothered him, maybe even depressed him a little.
Cas wasn’t used to feeling depressed. Usually, he could bounce back from hardship, no matter how tough, but lately it just seemed like he kept coming up against a brick wall—and falling flat on his face once again.
“Belald pays good,” Eremis was saying, “plus he gives me expensive gifts. What more could I possibly want?”
Cas stared at him in disbelief, the healer’s remaining words fading into the background for a while. What more could you possibly want? he thought in amazement. How about your life back? What was happening to Eremis? Had he really accepted this new life he’d once professed to hating so easily? Here was Cas, moaning and groaning about how much his life had sucked up to this point, and there was Eremis, actually looking forward to meeting up with Belald!
It’s just the money, he convinced himself, shifting his wounded feet uncomfortably. But he knew that wasn’t entirely true. He’d seen the look on the healer’s face after Belald had kissed him. There was fear, then slight desire…but there was real feeling there, too. Cas almost felt like crying, he was so frustrated. Stupid, stupid, STUPID Eremis! Was he actually falling for the arrogant mercenary?
That’s when Cas began to get one of the ugliest Ideas he’d ever thought up. It made him flush from shame just to think about it, but it was there nonetheless. If he could get Eremis to sleep with him…then the healer would turn his affections away from Belald toward him. Once he had his friend fawning all over him, for however long the effect would last, he could get him to do whatever he wanted. No more Belald, no more drugs, no more…
He frowned, annoyed with himself for even thinking about doing something like that. Not only was it wrong to trick Eremis like that, but it also wouldn’t solve any problems. They’d still need money (or so the healer said), and they’d STILL have the drugs to worry about. Just because Cas made him stop taking the things wouldn’t make his body crave them any less. Next thing you know, he’d be going through withdrawal, and then something awful would occur; he’d get sick, really, really sick, maybe even pass out and never wake up.
Eremis pulled him back to the reality of the present when he finally noticed his torn up feet. “Let’s go inside so I can bandage those up for you,” the healer suggested, and Cas noticed he wasted no time shrugging away from his arm and standing up. Once back in the room, he wondered if their tentative friendship would ever be the same—whatever the case, it didn’t bode well for the fact that he was determined to stick around, no matter what.
“Maybe you should think about wearing shoes a little more often, Cas,” Eremis muttered while bandaging the wounded soles of his feet.
“Too damn noisy,” Cas returned under his breath, although inwardly he was cringing a little. Eremis might as well have suggested he learn to control his temper, too, since that was the obvious cause of his injuries, and not his distaste for shoes. Neither one of them seemed to want to talk about what had happened any more, though, so again, he kept his mouth shut.
He made a face when Lonta spoke up to complain about a headache. His dutiful healer friend finished his feet up quickly to rush to the little charlatan’s bedside again. He wanted Lonta to scram almost as much as he wanted Eremis to not visit Belald—but the healer didn’t seem to value his opinion at all, so there didn’t seem to be any reason to voice it any longer. Cas wasn’t sure how long he could take watching the fruits of their hard-earned labor feed money-hungry lowlifes like Lonta, but he didn’t think it’d be for long.
When Eremis began to talk about money, he snapped to attention. His heart actually leapt in his throat when the healer said something about leaving when they reached 5000 gold. Finally! He had an actual goal to reach for! 5000 gold, he thought frantically, his eyes glazing as the figure ran through his mind. It was so impossibly high—but it was something! Immediately, he began to hatch a plan. Waiting around to make that kind of figure could take months. So all he had to do, really, was be willing to take a few necessary risks, mainly, to learn a new trade: thieving.
Cas was a pretty good pickpocket, but he was no thief. But THAT was where all the money was; he knew it. He’d never been desperate enough to risk life and limb burglarizing some rich noble’s property, but if it would keep Eremis safe and at home…
Wordlessly, he accepted the large sack of money his friend eventually handed him. He didn’t trust in any old bank, that was for sure—but he did know a safe place. A place he’d kept most of his stash for years, a place NO ONE knew about. There they could store their gold, and come to collect it when the time was finally right.
When Eremis went on to ask him about his sword lessons, he frowned, mostly because the healer followed it up with a reminder concerning his appointment with Belald.
“You make it sound like a rakin’ date,” he muttered, somewhat pleased at the flush of both shame and anger that crept into Eremis’ face. “Anyway, I don’t care if you come with me or not,” he added, trying to appear nonchalant, when he felt anything but. “I LIKE having your company, but if you don’t wanna come, there ain’t nuthin’ I can do about it.”
He wriggled his toes experimentally in the bandages swathing his feet. He wondered if he’d even be able to walk to the sword smith’s place, let alone practice for an entire hour. “But you can bet I’ll be back by eight,” he continued, still staring at his feet. Abruptly, his eyes moved back up to stare at his friend. “Because I’m goin’ with you.”
Eremis was too stunned to say anything at first, so Cas barreled on stubbornly. “I’ll follow along so nobody can see me. I can do it; ain’t nobody can follow as quiet as I can.” He shrugged. “I don’t think it’s safe for you to wander off at night by yourself—and I don’t count that jerk Belald as someone you can trust, neither!” He scowled, rather absently. “Though I gotta feelin’ I’d better get used to seeing him around. He’d have to be stupid…” He paused, surprised by what he was about to say, but decided to say it anyway, shrugging again as he met his friend’s somewhat glazed blue eyes. “He’d have to be stupid to get tired of seeing someone like you.”
He glanced at the table next, his gaze lingering guiltily on the broken leg. “We don’t gotta buy a new table, neither,” he added more quietly. “I’ll fix it.” Eremis looked like he was about to protest, but Cas decided to put his foot down on just this one thing. “I’ll fix it,” he repeated steadily, even though he had no real idea how. Still, the more money they saved, the faster they could reach their goal—and the faster Cas could attempt to be happy about his life again.
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