savetheearth | [Typed]

Immediately. Come to the Holiday Inn motel near the freeway, room 117. Do not cut this feed between now and your arrival; if you do, I can't let you in.

*The freeway is in the opposite direction of this bus's route, and leaving the feed on means probably keeping it in one hand the whole way. It's a perfectly unreasonable request in a way that's almost wistfully familiar: it's inconvenient, but doesn't immediately force Cesar into a position of personal conflict.*

*Cesar gives the space over the phone a stonish look, but nods. Then he turns the corners of his mouth up, signs {I'm going now,}, and lowers the phone without deactivating it. The feed shows the bus' ceiling. Someone pulls the Stop cord.*

Edited 2015-03-01 19:49 (UTC)

[The entire time Cesar rides to the hotel with the feed open, monitoring his route, L is watching like a hawk, back pressed against the door of his motel room with his ice stave clutched firmly in his hand. He'll see when Cesar is approaching, and know without a doubt if someone has arrived who shouldn't. If the efforts seem overly cautious, Cesar will understand why, even without considering that L can only take so many heavy blows and hit attempts.]

*Not once does Caesar lift his phone to ask further questions, or fill the silence, or anything else that implies a further need for his company. At one point he does lift the phone to show his face, but he's doing something with the phone that L can't see. By the way the light of it changes across Cesar's face, he might be sending an email.*

*The bus takes a while. The walk does too. Finally, Cesar is reaching the hotel, and he walks past the front desk without stopping.*

*After all that, he stops outside of Room 117 to gather himself, and... he hesitates.*

*It's a very brief moment, and he remembers part-way through that the phone in his hand is still active, so he puts the phone in his pocket, rapping sharply against the door.*

[Throughout Cesar's journey to the motel, L also remains silent, though he's certainly present in case he's spoken to. That doesn't happen, leaving him to watch his screen glazedly and think about just how to approach this subject with Cesar. There's no good way, is there? What does he know already? Is it better to shock fully and suddenly with a barrage of information, or to ease into the skeevy truth that they've both been deceived?

He stands when Cesar is coming down the hall, and Cesar is being interrupted mid-knock by the door being wrenched open. L seizes him by the arm, yanking him into the room and immediately deadbolting them in.]

I need you to tell me when the last time you saw me was. And what we did.

*He's yanked bodily into the room, and Cesar braces himself for a smothering press against his lips, and a hungry, needy embrace. Neither occur, and he takes an off-guard step or so back, tugging his collar. The room is nice enough, but it presses in strangely, and his skin has the slightly grey look of someone who is deeply troubled, and trying not to be ill.*

{Day before yesterday. I was pushing you out of my apartment so I could leave for work.} L had helpfully turned the first alarm off, but Cesar's cellphone had gone off with unexpected (but very welcome) questions.

{Why are we at a hotel? What happened there?} He waves at L's bruise.

[After the initial yank, L actually maintains a surprising amount of wary distance. It's a jarring departure from the clingy behavior of his doppelganger. He leans against the wall, hunching forward, watching Cesar's signs intently. They come together to form a picture he's unhappy about, but can't claim that he didn't expect.]

No, not me.

[He pinches the bridge of his nose.]

We haven't actually talked since before the 10th. That's when Tony's double bashed me over the head and threw me in a closet, where I remained for two days. I thought that I contacted you, but it was your double and I failed to realize that until he went after the real Tony for what his double did to me. It has been, without a doubt... the most fucked up two weeks of my life.

[He takes a pause, though there's a great deal more he wants to say. Some of this probably needs time to sink in.]

{... Wait, wait. Back up. Repeat all of that.}

He heard him just fine the first time, but it is a lot to take in, and it feels as though his mind is grasping compulsively at each fact, unwilling to let it pass until it's been chewed and understood.

The biggest clash is holding everything else up:

{Not you? But you don't have a doppelganger.}

[He shakes his head, sliding to the floor, where he crouches, aching and exhausted. He hasn't slept much since he found out.]

I have a doppelganger, and he was with you as recently as the day before yesterday. I've been with someone I thought was you. They both did a pretty good job of keeping us in the dark.

[He presses his forehead against his knees, wrapping his arms around his shins. It brings him no joy to say any of this.]

{You've been with my doppelganger?!}

It takes sight to actually read signs, and L's face is pressed down and away from him. Cesar starts and repeats the first word, as though L might look up at any moment, but he doesn't, and it's a little maddening.

He kneels in front of him, nudging his knee insistently with a couple of fingers. He will not go unheard, not when words he can't physically say are clamoring aggressively to get out. If L doesn't look up the first time, he'll grasp the knee with his full hand and shake it slightly, determined for a response.

{How long has this been going on? The whole time?}

He can't believe it. He'd wondered why his doppelganger had been so quiet, after his initial fuss, but he'd never expected the answer. And all the rest of what L's said.... He hasn't gotten to it, yet. None of it makes sense.

[The contact is confusing. On one hand, it feels familiar by this point, and it's crushingly painful to remember how much comfort and pleasure he's taken in this same touch from a different source. He stiffens but ultimately responds, wide eyes snapping up to fix on Cesar's signs.]

It would appear that way. Did he...

[It's so difficult. He can't decide if it would be better or worse, but given what he knows about his own doppelganger, he can't imagine that nothing happened.]

Did he take advantage of your trust, Cesar?

Those are mincing words, from someone who's clearly in a vulnerable state of mind. Cesar doesn't need to reach far to imagine why he's asking, and the answer to his own returning question is obvious. L's been staying in a hotel for two weeks with Cesar's Doppelganger for company. The unfairness of it all is so complete that Cesar's not even sure where to start, and it's leaving him strangely numb. He thinks that maybe the real sting of things hasn't quite sunk in yet; is there such a thing as emotional shock?

{Yes.}

There's no sugarcoating it. He's finished with trying to accommodate L and the man's attempts to draw out the specific answers he wants to hear--except none of those times were the real L, were they?

{Completely. Did my Doppelganger, too?}

The answer's obvious, but it feels like a necessary formality. He needs it out loud, as though following a familiar equation-solving procedure that he's hoping will show what path they can use next. What now?

Edited 2015-03-10 06:13 (UTC)

[The single gesture sours L's stomach despite the fact that he felt that he was amply prepared for it. He's such a fool, such an idiot, and didn't he suspect something at the time? That Cesar had been too affectionate, too gentle, too...

...willing to give, of his time, patience and love.

It's almost impossible to look at Cesar. He wants to be about fifty miles away instantly, and if he had that power, he certainly would be. Instead, he's Lazarus Lawliet, a human without notable strength, speed or power, and the method of survival available to him is steeling himself to talk through this. There will be ample time to fall apart later; he can't imagine that Cesar, the real Cesar, will have the heart to look at him for long.

Back in the real world, that really makes more sense, doesn't it?

His mouth twitches. It's not the beginning of a smile; more of a tic, a neurological miscommunication. No expression is appropriate for this, so a throwaway default is what makes a brief appearance before he gives a series of brisk, light nods.]

...Yes. He did.

[It was a lie, it was a beautiful lie, and you're lying now by pretending you don't miss it.]

I'm sorry. He was convincing, and I thought we...

[Idiot.

He rubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands. It's not the time for this.]

Obviously... it goes without saying that I have to find mine and put a stop to all this. I'm going to kill him. I'm confident that I know my own body well enough to be able to overpower it.

[It's cheap and short-lived, but the words do bring him some noticeable relief.]

Edited 2015-03-10 20:26 (UTC)

Something complicated is happening to L's face, and Cesar is far too close to see it through anything but the goggles of his own perspective. Cesar's hurting right now. Cesar's been hurting at least for over a week, wondering if he'd lost something good and somehow found himself in a nightmare. He's still hurting, because it was nothing but 'little' betrayals and being pulled back in and burying everything all over again in a haze of unfulfilling need. It got better after he'd started spending all-nighters at work. It took him a while before he realized he didn't have to go home every day.

L--the real one--is probably upset after whatever Cesar's doppelganger did with him, but he's probably relieved, too. Cesar is, after all. Maybe they can start trying to move on, now that they know what was wrong.

... Or maybe not. That curious numbness is still dulling the edge of everything, but Cesar still frowns.

{You could, but that would probably be murder.}

Edited 2015-03-10 23:09 (UTC)

[L has no idea what his own Doppelganger put Cesar through but whether it was outright abuse or utter bliss, he's furious. The time he spent with (or avoiding) the vile creature is time he could have been looking for the real Lazarus, pulling him out of a situation before he could get attached and infatuated.

Isn't that just it? Cesar's Doppelganger would move earth and sky to help you. What makes you think that Cesar would?

He swallows the rawness in his throat. Like everything else the real Cesar is stirring up in him, it can wait, has to wait.]

He wouldn't exist if I didn't. His face is my face. Some people think he is me and if that is the case, Cesar, how is his life not mine to take?

[Cesar's right. Killing, even a clone, is still murder, but there's an imbalance of justice somewhere, and a pound of flesh should be paid by someone.]

You'd better tell me now if he hurt you so I can figure out how to go about it.

{L. That's murder} He repeats the sign for emphasis, wishing silently that the sign wasn't a mildly suggestive one, on top of everything else.

{You need to calm down.}

Cesar has no affection left for the clone (indeed, almost not for either version of L at all), but he's not about to say the wrong thing and get a man tortured for it. The copy's a miserable shadow of who it could have been. Is that really something that deserves death?

I'm calm...

[Almost eerily so. There's a glazed and fixated quality to his stare. Of course, anyone who knows well him realizes that's a very bad thing, and regardless of how much the least two weeks have fucked over between them, Cesar still belongs to that group of people.]

You can be calm and still feel this way. It is possible.

How... why did you think it was me? Is that all right to ask? I feel that I should know how he's tricking people. It's only right, it's... that's a part of me he's using to get to people I care about, and it seems to be working, despite all the things that are so clearly wrong.

[An effort to keep his tone neutral, free of resentment or accusation. He was fooled too, he reminds himself. If Cesar's doppelganger could fool him with kindness and gentleness, then L's doppelganger, ridiculous and boorish as he is, could probably find a way to do the same.]

Cesar's own calm isn't so complete that these responses don't sink past his defenses. He flinches as though stricken, looking anywhere but him, and he shuffles back until he's sitting against the wardrobe opposite to L. They're still in the tiny little entry-way by the door, so it's not ostentatiously far.

It's still further than he was a moment ago.

What can he say?

{He said he was you. He told me he was, before I knew about the copies. He said--}

... How is he going to say this without getting someone brutally slaughtered?

{--something about new medications. He was also very different, when he wasn't speaking to the network.}

Or maybe it was just easier to ignore the differences, because it was a lot easier to imagine L pursuing him aggressively than it was to see him grasp at Tony's hair at the same time as reaching for Cesar's own. It seems distressingly obvious in hindsight that the differences had always been there, and that for whatever reason Cesar hadn't stopped to look. Why hadn't he tried harder? Why had he just retreated into his work, like a coward?

He hadn't wanted to deal with it at all. Everything had become so complicated, it had been impossible to think about L without remembering the shame and guilt of each time he'd tried to be responsible. And he had tried, hadn't he? It wasn't as though he'd just looked up with the new L and decided everything was better. Did it count for anything that he'd tried and been unsuccessful?

Some. Not much, though.

{What did my Doppelganger say?}

No, Cesar. He knows that this will only lead to more hurt and sorrow, but he can't not ask. Besides, maybe it will divert L long enough to give him time to think.

[L's eyes follow Cesar; they have to, or he won't be able to see his signs. It's not an appropriate time to make a playful comment about his ass as he turns, though L has done just this, very recently. His stomach turns over at the thought.

Deep breaths.]

Medications?

[There's an edge there. His voice catches and tatters on it. It's beyond disgusting and manipulative; he is above it, even as he is deeply ashamed of the frailty his doppelganger apparently aired like so many sheets to his concerned lover. He brings a hand to his face, covering half of it, pushing his hair back from his forehead as he tries to imagine how it might have gone down.

I'm crazy. Psych meds! So many! If you really liked me, you'd care, you'd want me anyway.

Something like that? He is mortified, devastated, and humiliated, all in no small measure. To know that he's worked so hard to fix things that can bring his life crashing down so easily anyway...

He blinks rapidly several times. He can clear his head, he can get through this, he can forge forward and try to forget that Cesar readily believed a lecherous mockery of his form and personality was truly him. Even if it looks very much like Cesar genuinely couldn't see what was wrong, perhaps because he assumes that something is constantly wrong with L.

He is deeply, dazedly unhappy. The more it pulls at him, the less the effort to hide it really seems worth it. By the time Cesar asks him what his own doppelganger said, in the same vein, how did he convince you, oh GREAT detective, the tone he has to answer with is a hollow one.]

After he came for me... helped me, got me new clothes, brought me to a place where I could rest and recover... he told me that he wanted me. More than he'd ever wanted anyone.

[Though he looked at Cesar before to read his signs, he only makes eye contact now.]

He came to scare me with his attentiveness. But that aside... in so many ways, he was so good. I don't understand how he can be your opposite.

Cesar can watch the cracks form anyway, and he hates himself for it. It was all the doppelganger's doing, but Cesar played a role in this, didn't he? He keeps coming back to the increasingly incredulous question of how did he not notice, and it's to a point where it feels like shouting in his ears.

It's not until L's last words that it feels like the strength drains from him, and he leans his head back against the wardrobe, simply absorbing these facts. Cesar's copy looked after L. Cesar's copy went and found L when he needed him. Cesar's copy made L feel loved.

Is that the opposite of what Cesar does?

L's only response is a {Sorry}. He's not sure what he's apologizing for, but at this point he can't think of anything else to say, and he feels irrationally compelled to say at least that much. Sorry for not being better? Sorry for not noticing? Sorry for being weak now, and not bustling them out of there before his double returned? Cesar's face has settled in unhappy lines, and he's keeping his hands close to hide the shaking. This is pathetic: they're both wallowing, and it's helping no one. Surely they have a few more moments to steep in their respective hurts?

Edited 2015-03-11 04:37 (UTC)

[The apology can't fix this, obviously, and not just because Cesar isn't the only one at fault. That being said, it soothes some of the raw hurt between them, at least from L's perspective, so he chimes in with a soft]

Me, too.

[Can they fix this? Move past the mind-fuck they've both suffered? He's sure they could if he was able to rely on Cesar to behave like his Doppelganger, but this means grieving the loss of a fairytale milestone and a couple weeks of stifling but loving attention and contact. It's like climbing a staircase only to topple brokenly back to the bottom, where there's no strong and gentle embrace waiting for him.

Would Cesar even touch him, let alone hug him if he crept over there right now? Or has his own doppelganger forever tainted his scent and touch with vile associations?

He hugs himself instead, wrapping his arms around his knees and pulling them close as he speaks to fill the silence.]

I left when I found out. I moved hotels in secret, I... don't know if he'll come looking for me again. You might not be safe here; he attacked Tony after interpreting all likenesses of him as a threat to me, so I don't think I'm wrong to see him as dangerous.

{Don't worry about me. He attacked Tony because of Tony's double.} It's a question, and Cesar's eyes flick belatedly to what he can see of L's head. That Tony attacked L, didn't he? How bad was it? On that note, does he have anything to worry about? All Cesar has seen of his own double is the way he pries important parts of his life apart like a child pulling legs off ants. Is this going to escalate towards him?

Hopefully not, but it's possible. {We're no detective, so tracking you will likely be difficult, and highly unlikely. Are you unlisted?}

Reassurances--all from a distance. He sees the way L has folded in on himself, and it tugs at the part of him that wants to move close and put an arm around his shoulders. Cesar resists, wondering if it's unfair to do this when it was all L's doppelganger's actions that've soured him this way. The L-from a few days ago would point this out, wouldn't he? Cesar knows he would be finding himself bracing L with as much support as he could scrape together, if that pattern had continued. Doesn't it say a lot that this L isn't pulling him in?

No wonder that Caesar is his opposite, a snide voice whispers. He probably puts L's wellbeing over petty differences like this. This selfishness isn't hurting L, is it? Maybe it is, but wouldn't it be equally unwise to rush back into things after something like this?

Once he would've been very sure, but now he doubts.

No. I'm worried about you. I'm supposed to be. Isn't that what happens when you're...?

[Involved? Committed? So much about this just buries and twists the knife deeper, because the other Cesar is basically Lazarus' point of reference for how a relationship is supposed to work. Yes, it had gotten possessive, and maybe gone too far in that regard, but he knows that he's got a warped perspective, that he's short a few tools that most people have. Maybe his instincts were wrong.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. He can't slip into comfortable thinking just because it feels soothing.]

Of course I'm unlisted. It's not exactly the first time I've used hotel living to keep trouble from finding me... by this point I'd better be good at covering my tracks.

[He keeps his voice firm. The slightest waver would reveal that maybe he just doesn't know how to deal with Cesar, and is looking for a way to ask him to leave while he can sort through some complicated feelings. That means doing everything he can to not dwell on Cesar's double and the time they spent together.

It wasn't real. It doesn't count. Hoping that things can be like that from now on is inviting disappointment, so buck the hell up.]

Maybe I should be tracking him. For all the care he took of me, he threw holy water on Tony, and I can't forgive that.

[Even if I'd be lying to claim I'm not tempted.]

Cesar tested engines to destruction while he was at Thunder Corp, and not all of them failed the same way. Many of them were catastrophic, bursting outwards in an explosion of pipe shrapnel and engine pieces. Others were slower, forming a resounding crack! and hissing as it lost the pressure that made the part useful.

L is worried about him. Not just in a way to get him away from his work and pushing him hot and heavy against the nearest surface, but worried in ways that L has always worried. L cares about people.

Crack!

Whatever shield that numbness was, it's not lasting for much longer. Shame and self recrimination are roiling in his gut, because that defining part of L, the one that looks after other people is back. He'd thought it had been lost to the strange personality shift, and that it had simply been a silent casualty to the ever present source: 'change in medications'. Now that it's back, he can't understand how he believed it had been so easy to see vanish. Had the differences been more subtle than he remembered? Or did Cesar just not pay any attention at all?

Some of the shadows in his mind steal across his face, and Cesar rests an elbow on his knee, leaning his head back against the wall behind him. It's a wonder he has any human interpersonal relationships at all. Does he even deserve what he has left?

{I'll help you find him.} And pray L doesn't wind up wanting the bastard more than he wants the original. The copy had scared him, he'd said, but his voice had been hushed. Was it with grief?

{Holy water?} The oddness of the phrase's inclusion barely registers on his radar, but it sounds significant.

Lazarus can be weird, intense, off-putting and frustrating... but his core has a gentle, patient, and tirelessly earnest streak that's allowed him to reach bristly people like Tony and take the skittish Nathan under his wing. Even if he's himself fragile in more than a few ways, if he's come to mean something to anyone in his time on Earth, it's due in no small part to this sincere desire to do good, and in hindsight, it probably does seem to Cesar like a colossal thing to just miss, or write off as gone forever as a result of an imbalance being corrected.

All of that being said, his doppelganger had been unafraid to exploit and manipulate in ways that Lazarus considers himself above, that would appall him to even consider, especially if it meant using them to attain an ends with someone he cared for. He'd played a long and convincing game, and L can't in good conscience blame the man for falling for it.

He's probably a better lay than you ever could be, without all those inhibitions holding him back.

"That's kind but... this is all so volatile right now. I have to plan my moves and there's still so little I know. Ultimately I just don't want anyone else to be hurt over this."

He shakes his head distractedly when Cesar asks for clarification on the holy water.

"Just... suffice it to say that it hurt him, and I am far from happy about it."

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