第 60 页

Caranthir pushed himself upright. “I knew what Finrod was. We got together in the first place because he was cheating on his girlfriend, you think I thought he was some kinda upstanding dude? I dunno, I never bought that he was gonna be any more of a good guy to me than he was to Amarië. But Curvo,” his hands clenched into fists. “He fucked with me. He manipulated me. He made me think I should like and trust him – because fuck me, right, for thinking I should maybe like and trust my brothers – and all the while he was laughing about it, using me as Finrod’s fucking fluffer or whatever. He made a fool of me, just because he could. Look at what he’ll do for Tyelko and then look at what he does to me. He’s a rat who only gives a shit about himself, but he fools people into loving him – he’s my father’s favorite, he’s Tyelko’s favorite, and now he’s Finrod’s favorite too. And whose favorite am I?”

Haleth reached instinctively for Caranthir’s hand, opening her mouth to say something, but at that moment, Caranthir’s phone rang. He dragged his hand away from her and pulled the phone out of his pocket. He stared at a moment and then slid from the bed. “It’s my brother, I gotta take this.”

“Which one?”

“Makalaurë,” said Caranthir, and vanished into the hall.

Haleth let out a sigh and tipped sideways on the bed. “Holy shit.”

Andreth laid down her book and stopped pretending she wasn’t listening. “Interesting developments.”

“No kidding.”

Andreth thought a moment, then grabbed her phone from the end table and started typing.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m texting Amarië.”

“Wait, about this, about Moryo?”

“Yeah, about this. Don’t you think she’d be…tickled?”

“Tickled?”

Andreth looked slightly chagrined, but it didn’t last long. “It’s just kind of karmic, isn’t it?”

Haleth glared at her. “It’d only be karmic if it was Finrod who was getting fucked over right now. Moryo didn’t do anything wrong.”

Andreth shrugged. “Depends on your definition of ‘wrong’, I guess. But whatever, I’m texting Amarië to fill her in. You don’t think she’ll find this deeply cathartic? The guy her ex cheated on her with gets cheated on in turn – with his own little brother! I’m going to tell her it could have been worse. I’m going to tell her Finrod’s clearly gone ‘round the bend and she’s lucky she got out when she did.”

“It’s not very nice to Moryo.” Haleth folded her arms and shot a glance towards the hallway, where Caranthir had been pacing while he talked, but now had leaned up against the wall and slid down to sit, his knees drawn into his chest as he listened.

Andreth glanced out at him too and dropped her voice even lower. “I’m not going to burn him or anything, but come on, Amarië’s still all hung up on Finrod. I think this’ll help her realize he’s totally bugfuck and she’s way better off now. Honestly, I kind of wish I’d had something like this after my breakup, it would have been a lot easier to get over him.”

“Fine,” said Haleth, also as quietly as she could manage. “Yeah, okay, I see that. But don’t let him hear you. Be subtle, okay?” She looked out into the hallway again. Caranthir had closed his eyes, his phone pressed to his ear as he listened to his brother’s voice on the other end, and his face softer and more still than it had been all night. “Poor kid’s gone through enough.”

* * *

“How exactly did your laptop get fried?”

“I was over at Irissë’s,” said Turgon, scowling, as he took the laptop Fingon handed him. “And you know I’m a cat person, right? I like cats. I gave her that cat. I helped keep that damn cat alive. And what does that damn Maeglin – ”

“Lómion,” Fingon corrected, running his brother a glass of water from the tap.

“ - What does Lómion do? He knocks an entire French press of coffee into my computer and destroys everything. He might as well have killed me, honestly.” Turgon clutched his breast as if he could feel the pain now.

Fingon grinned over his shoulder at him. “I know it sucks, but you’re being a little melodramatic, kiddo. You have backups of your files, right?”

“I suppose…” Turgon looked reluctant to yield any ground. “But that’s an expensive laptop, and now I’m going without one right around midterms!”

“Yeah, I hear that. Check and see if your insurance will cover it. But in the meantime, like I told you, you can use mine.” Fingon handed Turgon the water. “All I need is the one I have at the office for work, anyway. I can use my phone or Maitimo’s computer if I need to do anything else. Keep this for as long as you want – just don’t go poking around my personal files unless you want to be scarred for life.”

“No fear,” said Turgon, shuddering. “Thanks, Finno. But seriously, this is the first time I’ve ever wanted to punt a cat from the sixth floor window of – ”

He was interrupted by a knock at the door. Fingon checked the clock, then frowned. “It’s a bit early for Maitimo to be home.”

“Postman?” Turgon suggested.

Fingon crossed to the door and pressed his eye to the peephole. “Huh, lookit that. Different cousin altogether!” He pulled the door open. “Hey, Ingo, what’s up?”

“Hello,” said Finrod, but he looked distracted and more than a little distraught. “Is Turukáno here? I went by Bëor’s but he said Turno was out doing something about his laptop…”

“I’m here.” Turgon waved from the counter. “Why? Is everything okay?”

“I’ve messed up again.” Finrod was twisting his fingers together, and he looked a little sick. “I’ve messed up bad, Turno, and this time, I wanted you to hear it from me.”

“Oh, lord,” said Turgon, his face falling. “What have you done now?”

“Shh.” Fingon shot a quelling look at his brother as Finrod looked ready to slink back out the door. He put a soothing arm around Finrod’s shoulders, tugging him into the apartment. “Don’t look so freaked out, Ingo. Hey, guess what, I owe you at least one non-judgmental ear after all you helped me through in college. Just tell me, and Turukáno can sit quietly over in the corner and make outraged faces behind your back that you won’t have to see, and then once he’s over it, we can all sit and talk like adults. Or reasonable approximations thereof.”

“I don’t know,” said Finrod, as Fingon guided him to a chair, and Turgon slid off his stool. “I have a feeling you may be making outraged faces at me as well.”

“I’ll stifle the urge,” said Fingon breezily. “I will be at least as kind to you as you were to me when I told you about that whole disaster with the two brothers junior year. It can’t be as bad as that, right?”

“Oh, god,” said Finrod, and put his head in his hands.

-

Some time had passed. Finrod had talked until his voice trailed off, while Fingon listened, his face held as neutral as he could manage, though this broke more than a few times.

Finally, Fingon let out a deep breath. “Well.”

Finrod still had his head in his hands. He’d told the whole story without making eye contact, addressing his lap rather than his cousin. What Fingon could see of his face was bright red with shame and embarrassment.

“You weren’t kidding, huh?”

Behind them both, Turgon had recovered enough to start to make a vehement noise of indignation. Fingon waved frantically at him, and Turgon clamped his lips shut, stood up, and walked calmly into the back room, closing the door behind him. They heard a muffled explosion from behind the door – “Are you kidding me? Again? What in the hell… ” – and Finrod cringed.

Fingon leaned back in his chair, his own face very serious. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time, haven’t you?”

“I know,” whispered Finrod. “I know. I don’t even know how I ended up here, how I ended up being this person – What’s wrong with me, Finno?”

Fingon chewed his lip. “I don’t think I can answer that one. Look, I promised I wouldn’t freak out, so I’m not going to. But you realize you’ve got a serious pattern going on here, don’t you?”

“Yes,” said Finrod, and covered his face again. “I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t know how I got here. I’ve always had everything so figured out, I always knew what I wanted…but now I’m not sure of anything. I thought I was happy with Amarië, and look what I did to her. I wasn’t even single and with Carnistir for a week before I started falling for Curvo…”

“Falling for? Hang on, do you actually have feelings for him, or is this just another fling?”

Finrod dug his fingers into his hair. “I don’t trust myself to answer that. Nothing I thought I knew about myself is true anymore. Sometimes I just want to take off and run, I just want to leave, to throw everything away and to hell with everything I thought I was working to get – it all just seems so pointless, why – ” His voice broke, and Fingon slid forward to grip his arm.

“Hey, Ingo, it’s okay to feel that way. You think we haven’t all been there? That’s like the definition of being in your twenties…”

“You didn’t fuck up like this.”

“Well, we all fuck up in our own ways. Or maybe we’re just still waiting on my Findaráto-level fuck up, huh?” Fingon tried to sound cheerful and bracing. “But it’s time to recognize what you’re doing and start to pull out of your spin – and maybe you need some help to do that.”

“I should be able to fix things on my own,” said Finrod miserably. “I’ve always been able to before…”

“No one can do everything on their own all the time, don’t be stupid. It’s not weak to get help, Ingo, but it’s dumb to try and keep handling everything on your own when you’re crashing and burning like this.”

“You think I’m crashing and burning?”

“Honeybunch, I think that’s the definition of what you’re doing.”

As Fingon patted Finrod’s leg reassuringly, Turgon came back into the room, eerily composed. Finrod looked at him warily, and Turgon sat back down on his stool, blinking rather less than was natural. “I do not condone what you did,” he pronounced, like he was reciting prepared remarks. “I think you have behaved like a…” He cast around for the right word. “…like a total shmuck. I agree with Findekáno that you should probably get help - honestly, professional help. But – ” and this time he looked squarely at Finrod, his expression not as hard as it had been, “I’m still your friend, Ingo. And I’m…here for you.” He twisted his mouth around his discomfort even as Finrod stared at him with open gratitude. “I can’t promise I won’t – ”

“Whack you upside the head with a whiffle bat,” supplied Fingon, grinning slightly.

“ – or propose some sort of chastity belt – ”

“Ooh, yes. Ideally with spikes…facing in – ”

Finrod gave a watery laugh and dragged a hand over his eyes.

“Yes, good call. But on the whole, I think you probably have enough to fear from the collective wrath of the Fëanorion clan, so I’m going to leave the punishment to them.”

“Fair enough,” said Finrod softly, finally meeting his best friend’s gaze. “I’m sorry I keep messing up.”

“It’s really not me you have to apologize to.”

“Yeah, you’ve neither slept with nor cheated on him,” said Fingon. “Yet. I mean, as far as I know. Say, I actually always wondered…”

“Shut up.” Turgon was still watching Finrod. “What’s your plan now? Are you going to…are you, like, dating Curvo now? Are you and Moryo over for good? And what are you going to do when – ”

The door opened, and all three of them looked up.

“Hey, Finno,” Maedhros said, tiredly, as he turned to pull his key from the lock. “I didn’t manage to get anything for dinner, I was running late and – god, you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve – ” His eyes lit on Finrod, and for a moment he froze.

Finrod half rose to his feet, his mouth opening to say something, but Maedhros let out a snarl of rage that preempted any words.

“You.”

“Maitimo,” said Fingon quickly. “He was just – ”

“You motherfucker.” Maedhros’ voice was low and deadly, and his face was contorted with fury. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Maitimo – ” Fingon tried again, but Maedhros didn’t seem to see or hear anything but Finrod. He advanced on him, tall and threatening, and Finrod shrank back.

“You have five seconds to get out of here,” hissed Maedhros. “Five seconds, and then I swear to god I will rip you apart. How dare you, how dare you come here, after what you’ve done to my brothers – ”

“I’m leaving now. I’m sorry…”

“Sorry?” Maedhros looked like he was going to tear Finrod apart regardless of timing, and Fingon stepped between the two of them, placing a hand flat against Maedhros’ chest.

“Mae, take a breath.”

“A breath? That bastard – do you know what he – my little brothers – ” Maedhros tried to move forward again and this time Fingon grabbed him around the waist and hauled him back.

“Easy.”

“I never want to see you here again!” Maedhros roared, as Finrod slipped past him towards the door, Turgon following silently behind. “Fuck, I never want to see you again period, just stay away, stay away from me, and stay the fuck away from my brothers!”

The door clicked shut behind Turgon, and Fingon finally let Maedhros go.

“Okay, let it out, babe.”

But to his surprise, rather than more rage, Maedhros slumped down against the counter, his face falling from anger into exhaustion. Fingon instinctively reached for him again; Maedhros looked on the verge of tears.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered, as Fingon took him into his arms. “I don’t understand why everything’s falling apart. And my little brothers are getting hurt and I haven’t done anything to prevent it, and maybe if I still lived there…”

“That’s not it, Mae,” said Fingon gently, trying to ignore the swoop of anxiety at the thought that Maedhros might be regretting his move. “Your job isn’t to stop life from happening to your brothers, even though I know you want to make everything okay for them. This isn’t your fault, any of it, and it probably would have happened with or without you there.”

“Maybe,” said Maedhros, and sank his head onto Fingon’s shoulder as Fingon kissed his temple. “But now Tyelko’s not talking to dad, and Curvo’s not talking to dad or to Moryo, Moryo won’t come home, and Káno’s not even in town and… How are your siblings so functional? Why isn’t your family having this kind of drama?”

“Well,” said Fingon, settling back against the counter and pulling Maedhros with him. “As for family drama, I recently received word that my cousin is having a bit of chaos in his love life – oops, too soon to joke about that? Ow, sorry!” He flinched as Maedhros pinched him. “No Findaráto jokes yet, got it. But as for my siblings not having any drama, damn, just give them time.” He kissed Maedhros again. “Everything’s going to work out, I promise.” He stared into the distance, his smile slipping. “Somehow.”

Chapter End Notes

2. Fingon’s right, guys. Things are gonna work out, and next week’s gonna be better, I promise. Thanks for bearing with me through all the smashing and yelling.

Any moment 'til the day breaks

Chapter Summary

In which everyone is displaced to some degree.