whatsina_name | (no subject)

(no subject)

You know, it really figured that pretty much right after Phillip and Carden had talked about what they wanted with each other, wanted to stay together even if it meant dealing with Duplicity, thrown out the possibility of being together forever in a very literal sense, that they immediately got separated.

Fucking typical.

Phillip showed back up in his college dorm room a week into term, exactly when he'd left, thoroughly disoriented and not remembering a goddamn thing about what he was supposed to be doing and frankly not super caring. Because it was all well and good to be back home, away from the powers that be of Duplicity, but there was no way in hell he was just going to let Carden slip away that easily. Delaying only long enough to call Mia and update her on what had happened and what he was doing (a conversation that had a lot of 'what the FUCK's on her end of it), he reached deeper into his power than he had ever dared on this world and figured out how to cast himself into the multiverse.

In reality, he kind of didn't know what he was looking for. He had no way to tell if a world he landed on was Carden's or not. It was entirely... by instinct. By feeling. By trying to listen to whatever magic existed in the world and imagining Carden's as part of it, trying to figure out if there was a whisper of it in there.

Phillip had no idea how long it actually look him to find the right one, but he knew it was right the second he materialized on it. There was something about it that just resonated in a way that the others he'd tried hadn't. Now to just... figure out where, exactly, Carden was. The American south was still a big, big place. So first thing was to slip into a female form- she had no idea what the state of homophobia was in this world and didn't want finding him to be ruined by idiots. Then she played a magical game of 'hot or cold': dropping into small towns and usually staying just long enough to confirm Carden wasn't there (and often causing a bit of a stir) before moving on, trying to follow what she thought was the feel of his magic. Hopefully she was right.

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It's been a bit more difficult for Carden, in terms of figuring things out, remembering what's been lost. Everything is so fantastical, so different from his life at present in his own world, so much of what he's wanted all along, that when he wakes in a shitty motel with the memories feeling distant and groggy in the back of his head, it's so much easier to dismiss them. No time has passed here, nothing else has happened with the town. He's still in the same shitty situation with the same shitty problems and his time at Duplicity fades into a dream almost before he's even done waking up, just another stupid fantasy while he atones for his--

Except... he doesn't phase through things anymore. Not on accident, at least, something that it takes him the better part of two weeks to realize. He lives in constant fear of it, the sudden swooping moment, the furtive glances around to see if it's time to leave town or not, the fear clawing up his spine in the days following until he leaves town anyway. He fears it, but it doesn't happen and it keeps not happening until he has to leave that town, too, just worrying that something's wrong.

The next one he gets a job at what amounts to the town's General Store, more modern than that, of course, but the town is too small for a Wal-Mart or even a brand name drugstore, so there's just a little place that's kind of half drug store, half feed and farm supply store, with some gas pumps out front, too small for any one of those things to make it. In the summer, they also plug in the little case that keeps ice cream cold and sell cones to the local kids. He falls in love with it immediately and, weirdly, for once, the town falls in love with him in return. Something's different, he's different, and for the first time on the soil of this world, he wonders if he's found somewhere he could be happy for a little bit, even if he doesn't fully trust it.

If only he could stop the dreams. Or at least stop waking up weirdly expecting his bed to not be empty and feeling a dipping, chilling feeling when there's no one else there.

Why would there be?

So in this town, when Phillip asks about a cute blond come to town recently, the waitress in the tiny diner/bar blushes and points her to the general store, and rumors erupt in her wake.

Given the nature of small towns, there is a decent chance word makes it back to Carden before Phillip even finishes her meal- maybe not directly tied to him, just a comment about a newcomer or passer-through who looks like she stepped out of a fashion magazine and is glaringly out of place in their town. Or maybe someone brings her up directly to him as a tease, asking the new guy why he's got her attention; possibly the kind of comment that would be more likely to worry him than anything.

It doesn't take all that long for Phillip to find him after that, though; it's not like she actually needs to eat or was ever very hungry and only really stopped in the diner as an excuse to talk to people. There is a chance this isn't the right person, or just not the right version. There is a chance that this is not her Carden and he won't know who the hell she is and she's not going to say that thought doesn't upset her.

But she can't- won't- delay for too long. Taking a steeling breath outside of the little store, she pushes the door open. It's almost empty, except for--

She can't help but smile when she sees him. "...Hey."

Edited 2020-06-10 19:38 (UTC)

It's actually a good thing word doesn't reach him before she does (though it does reach his coworker at the store who is surreptitiously watching to send word later) because if he knew someone was looking for him, he'd be gone and wouldn't resurface anywhere a hundred miles from here in any direction. So he's blissfully ignorant, doing some kind of physical labor of moving feed sacks around in the one side of the store or somesuch when she comes in.

His brow furrows when he looks up, but the look is much more confusion than it is being weirded out. Still, the response is just,

"Hey...?" followed by, "Uh... can I help you with some-- do I know you?" it's a genuine question, not a rebuff, like she's an old classmate from middle school, changed in the intervening years, but still recognizable somehow.

...Yup. That hurts. That hurts a lot. Phillip tries to make it look like it doesn't, so there's just a brief flash of something before she covers it up.

It is definitely a Carden with magic in front of her. It hadn't really occurred to her that he might not remember until now- it was clear to her just because her life had been full of weirdness before Duplicity and would likely continue to be so afterwards. Multiverses make more sense. That she's found a Carden who once was Merlin, but not hers.

"I'd hoped so," she says, and the smile that she gives him is undeniably sad- something he's absolutely seen before, "But it's ok if you don't." It's not ok. Not even a little, but if he doesn't then... it's not his fault.

"You... I..." this is not the reaction of someone who doesn't know someone else. He doesn't look confused or like he's laughing this off, he looks haunted. He should know her. He's suddenly very, very certain about that, more certain than anything. But the only hole in his memory has to do with the facility, when it exploded, what he can't remember about his time there, right at the end.

Except... he goes looking for those missing memories and they aren't missing. He remembers, he just didn't remember he remembered because he presumed he forgot. And while there's shock there, the shock of knowing the truth isn't shocking, the truth isn't shocking and he's dumb about some things, but brilliant about others and while he doesn't know the full shape of the words yet, they're falling out of his mouth anyway,

"It's not that I don't remember you, it's that I've forgotten, isn't it?" the same thing, but not the same thing at all.

“That’s... possible.” Of course it’s possible— it happened to people when they left and came back from Duplicity, isn’t there? Phillip sighs, reaching up to mess with her long black hair. “Might not be the kind of conversation we want to have here then.”

She can definitely think of ways to remind him. None of them should be done in public.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay," he can't believe he does it, but he tells her where he's staying, one of the little extended stays up by the highway, a real dive. But he believes her. He doesn't know why, but he does. Something weird has happened to him and she has the answers and he trusts her, for some reason, when he doesn't ever trust anyone, paranoid and alone.

"I'll be there when I finish my shift," and there's that little Carden smile, one he could absolutely patent, one that she knows all too well, "If I just leave with you now, the whole town will talk."

That gets a more natural smile out of her, one with a playful cock of the head and considerably more charm. That’s... definitely promising. She hopes they’re both right.

“I feel like they might already be talking,” she says with a little tease, “...I’ll see you later.” She doesn’t hang around the town much, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. But she’ll be there when he gets back, leaning against the wall and trying to figure out why her phone still seems to work.

(Clearly it's part of the whole 5G conspiracy.)

He's almost surprised to see her. The rest of his shift has passed in a blur, which has gotten him teased mercilessly by his one co-worker, but he's not entirely sure even so that this is real, that she's real.

"Wasn't exactly expecting visitors," he warns her by way of apology for how the place looks as he lets her in, his accent a lot thicker than normal, which could either be because of this time and place or could be because he's nervous, there's ample evidence for either. Despite the warning, he owns almost nothing so the room is disheveled but not really messy.

He'd told Phillip about his life before, but seeing it is another thing. There's a weird peace here, somehow, that same feeling Carden always brings with him, but the room is lonely, a temporary space for a temporary person, with no more belongings in it than he could leave behind or carry on his bike. He gestures to the little table,

"Please, sit down," he perches on the bed right opposite, himself, but it's also clear he's trying to navigate clumsily through liminal space, here.

Some things never change.

"It's alright." It feels weird for Carden to even apologize for something like that. Not because it's not absolutely something he would do- but because Phillip's so used to their space being the same that it didn't matter.

She kind of knew what to expect, but it still hits her with a wave of sadness. She knows what it was like, and could imagine how it made him feel, but to be there for it is something else entirely. ...She doesn't want him to live like this.

Phillip sits on the other bed, running a hand through her hair again. She isn't sure whether to barge ahead or be careful. Both of those are certainly in character for her. "Do you remember anything?" she starts off with. She doesn't really want to just explain Duplicity as her lead in. She isn't exactly renowned for her tact in explanations.

"Not enough that I know what I'm supposed to be remembering," he admits. "But about... a month ago, I'd say, I started to notice things were different from how they were."

"I travel a lot," he explains, as though she doesn't know, "never really set down roots in a town for very long. So things are different a lot for me. But this was different from that, too. Things changed basically overnight that... don't change overnight. Can't. I've known that. But I haven't known what to do about it."

"I shouldn't trust you. Trusting people my gut told me I could trust is what got me into this mess to begin with. But I do trust you. Why?"

From another person, maybe that would sound more accusatory, harsh, but even like this, Carden still has that almost childlike sense of wonder about him.

Phillip blows out her breath, processing that. That's... not great, but it's something. He at least knows something is different.

She hates the distance between them, but doesn't move to sit next to him. Not yet. "The short and probably confusing version is you're missing about a year of memories. I know you aren't missing that much time, but there's some weird... multiverse time bullshit going on. You were here living your life, you got dragged away to the place where you met me for a year, you woke up here just when and where you left."

His eyes go wide at that, shocked, but he doesn't fight the knowledge, doesn't tell her she's crazy. He just... he knows what she's saying is the truth. He doesn't quite remember things, just because she's telling him, but he knows that she's right. And, weirdly, it actually makes more sense, in some ways, than what he's been dealing with. Knowing there's a reason everything's gone weird.

"Yeah, okay, that tracks," he says, after a moment, "Did you help me figure out how to stop falling through stuff?" because there's no way that she doesn't know he could fall through things, if he'd been stuck in one place for a year. "What happened?" he asks, and then shakes his head, "no, wait, that's too big of a question. Who are you?"

He means a name. In that way that he often does, he also clearly means more than a name.

Ok. If he can take all that in stride, then some part of him definitely remembers. It's just getting that part to wake up and pay attention.

"You can do a lot more than not phase through things," she says with a dry smile. That was definitely something that blew Carden's mind even when it was happening, she's curious to see how he'd react to that like this.

But there is the other question to answer, and Phillip genuinely doesn't really know how. She doesn't want to tell Carden what they are, or were. "Phillip," is what she starts with, before adding, "This might help." She leans back on her hands a little as she shifts in front of him, trying make into the male form they met in,

There's a weird, wide-eyed look to the assertion that he can do more than not phase through things, half stunned disbelief and half some kind of emotion Carden can't even name but shows on his face-- another moment where something slots into place. He hasn't done magic since he got back. He doesn't know what to do to try and the ability had still be so young for him that it's hardly inherent or easy. But he's felt it all the same, a weird kind of yearning ache for something that he knows he isn't doing, is missing, as deep and wide as the feeling that there's someone missing in his bed. There aren't yet memories to accompany that either, but he feels like he's been struck like a bell, suddenly, vibrating slightly on some internal place, feeling the world shift slightly around him.

And speaking of people in his bed...

He's always been just slightly more attuned to Phillip in his male form, never something that's been a rejection of the female one, but it's how their first few encounters started and because of that it's been hard to break the thought of it as "default". It's also the first time he's ever had to personally deal with some kind of gender identity thing, and he doesn't remember his own forays into that area. But even given that, it's not really that she's put herself in a form he's more "familiar" with or something, though it probably doesn't hurt. It's the shift itself that dredges up the echoes of things, combined with this being what Phillip looks like in the not-returned memories he has of other things: in his arms on the beach, talking about their future on the couch in the living room at the beach-house, in bed only not begging for forever because it's already being insisted on.

"Phillip," he says, and it's clear he doesn't remember, because his brow furrows slightly a moment later (and also he doesn't immediately jump him) but he doesn't say his name like a stranger, either. And then there's a startled riot of a blush and he looks down, away, because his brain hasn't caught up yet, but his body knows what to do with this information just fine, thank you, and there's a sudden, hot rush up his spine.

He feels the gap suddenly between them keenly in a way that he's not sure if he wants to cross or scramble away from, just because he still doesn't know who this is, really. But he does and he wants and that's definitely not something this version of Carden is used to or familiar with.

"You're... we're...?" yes, very articulate, but things are going so fast in his head and his heart that it's kind of a miracle that he can force words out at all, "Are we...?" he is aware he still hasn't actually asked a question, but everything is too big, he doesn't know what words he wants to use, he feels like he's in free-fall, fumbling for a parachute cord, "Is that why you came to find me?"

Phillip can't help but smile as Carden tries to fumble his way through it. Yeah, that's very typical Carden, and it's very, very cute. "Yeah," he says by way of answer to the questions, both implied and otherwise.

He pauses for a moment before he gets up, sliding into sit next to Carden on the bed because trying to be so distant is so hard. Even when he brings himself closer, he has to wait to do what he really wants. This is his Carden, he's more sure of that now, but if he doesn't remember then how far should he push...?

Carden's always told him he's too careful. That he needs to trust him. So he does, or tries to. He reaches up, brushing a thumb against Carden's jawline and fingers dancing over where a collar used to lay. It's not much, but to Phillip it feels like there's sparks even in moments like this.

There's a startled bit of tension, a tiny jump, when Phillip is suddenly on the bed with him and he swings his gaze back around, eyes wide and startled. There's no fear, though, even though he's tense and trembling just a little bit.

It's his expression that softens first, when Phillip reaches out, though it looks more like his eyes just kind of melt closed as his thumb traces a path against his skin, the tension in his body following suit in one way, a new sort of tension replacing it. The sight it leaves in it's wake is familiar: enchanted and soft, lips parted just slightly like he's already begging to be kissed.

He's the one who's leaning forward, though, because of course he is. If there's one thing that Phillip's learned about Carden, it's that once he decides he's going to lean into something, there's very little that either caution or rational thought can do about it. Kissing a stranger because he can feel how the whole thing makes him resonate is nothing surprising, really.

Which is exactly where he's headed if Phillip doesn't do anything to stop him.

There is no way in hell Phillip would stop him.

Instead, he leans in to meet him, his entire being just wanting to merge with Carden's as much as he can. He might not know exactly how long it's been for him but he missed him, so much that sometimes it genuinely hurt. If Carden knew everything, there would be no hesitation in tipping him back onto the bed, but even without that there's a definite heat and longing in their kiss, far too passionate for 'strangers.'

As far as Carden knows, he's shared maybe a dozen kisses in his lifetime and only a few of those have been anything he would call "passionate". That doesn't stop him from deepening this one, though, a soft, shocked gasp punched out of him at the first brush of tongues, a heated shiver that rolls through him and then seems to kind of take up permanent residence. He doesn't push Phillip down on the bed, but he does lean his weight into him, has to press closer right now, and if they tumble, they tumble.

Phillip wraps an arm around his waist, holding him close and firm, his grip automatically a bit possessive. His other hand reaches up and threads into Carden's hair to stroke it. Still, he wasn't quite prepared for Carden putting all his weight on him like that, his grip meaning both of them topple back onto the mattress. He has no complaints, doesn't break their kiss- after all, if anything is going to really jog Carden's memory about Duplicity, it would probably be sex.

The timing is such that even he's not sure if the noise he makes is more because of the possession in that arm around his waist or the way they fall down to the bed and he can suddenly press closer, tangle up more. It's loud in the quiet room, desperate, the way he moans. He falls and falls and falls, already a kind of vocal that had taken months to get him comfortable with, already twisting in Phillip's arms with desire.

He pulls back panting, wide-eyed, a moment later, presses fists against Phillip's chest and leverages himself just a little bit away,

"Oh God," he says, dazed, trying to catch his breath and then there's a little, breathless laugh, giddy and lost at the same time, "God, what's happening... How? Why?"

Phillip knows that tone. It's usually reserved for when the city was doing something to them, had them caught in it's clutches and Carden had already made the decision that he didn't care. It's maybe a bit weird to hear it here, when it's kind of more what Phillip is doing that's causing it, but even though Carden isn't deliberately trying to assuage any fears Phillip might have about this, that's definitely a tone Phillip would associate with a kind of overwhelmed-but-enthusiastic consent than any kind of panic.

Phillip smiles, reaching up to push any stray hair out of Carden's face, just admire how he looks above him. This is certainly not his ideal reunion, but he kind of almost doesn't care. If Carden doesn't get his memories back, that would hurt, but it seems like many of the feelings are definitely still there. He's pretty sure he could make that work.

"How and why might be a little hard to go over right now," he says, a little bit of a tease, his hand sneaking gently under Carden's shirt, "But I can definitely show you some of what I know about you." And if there are no objections, Carden is getting flipped so his back is on the bed and Phillip is looming over him, coming in for another kiss.

He goes with the motion easily, a flicker of want stealing across his face again through the wide eyes. The Carden Phillip knows has admitted to liking being pushed around more than is probably healthy for him. This Carden doesn't know that and there's definitely some sudden revelation to catch in the expression.

"Yes," he says, and that part is automatic, call and response, something he doesn't actually know that he needs to provide, but knows all the same. He almost doesn't seem to know he's said it, that's how automatic it is. "But I've never..." he manages before the kiss, "... I don't remember having..." he corrects between one and the other, and then all he can do is moan, arching into Phillip's touch in a way that's much more demanding than either his confused words or the way he's melting into the kiss.

Phillip begins pealing Carden's shirt off of him as he keeps leaning in for kisses, his hands confident and firm. He knows every inch of Carden at this point, even if for the moment Carden doesn't know him back. "It's ok," he assures him with another kiss, hands moving down to his waist and undoing his pants, "I've got you."

It's almost a weird parallel to their first time together, in a random hotel room with Carden overwhelmed and not entirely sure how all this went and Phillip more confident but swept along just as much as him. There's no stopping this now, and he has no desire to, instead just working Carden's pants off enough to wrap a hand around his length.

They have, ironically, come a long way for this moment. There's definitely a point where Phillip wouldn't have been this confident, would have backed off and given Carden space he thought he needed, when really that's more likely to read to Carden as rejection or just to let him think entirely too hard about what's happening and get awkward, rather than just rolling with it.

Similarly, though he doesn't know it, this lack of second-guessing on Carden's part is learned behavior, too, even if he doesn't remember learning it. That he trusts Phillip immediately, that he knows he's not being taken advantage of, that he's neither nervous nor ashamed of any of this. There's something deep-seated here that knows this is okay, even if he's still trying to figure out which end is up.

There's a frisson of tension that runs through him when Phillip gets his hand wrapped around him, a soft gasp that seems more surprise than pleasure, but it melts back into a rich moan a moment later, his head falling back down to the bed. It's not just the physical pleasure that's turning him into a puddle, though, it's the knowing. Phillip knows how to touch him, knows precisely the little things even he himself doesn't wholly know about how he wants to be treated, touched, had. There's something intensely psychologically satisfying about it, something that he equally doesn't remember having and so has no defenses against.

Even if he doesn't remember or even if it takes him a while to remember, the soul-deep way he's just giving himself, granting a kind of deeper access that strangers just don't do, shows that Phillip is definitely succeeding in making sure he's not going to lose him again.