"There is an awkward silence that overcomes you when you cross paths with the person that kisses your heart the second that you meet them. It balances on the edge of unknown but always desired." -Carl Henegan
chapter 12
Opening the door not even a minute later and slightly out of breath from how fast he got his sweatshirt on and his music ready, he sees Cas frozen in place, hands still raised in a 'I don't have weapons' way, and hesitatingly walks over to him.
Since his music was so loud, trying to drown out the chaos that his own song has created around him and the thoughts his mind snarled out-- you let him get hurt!-- he doesn't quite hear rather than see Cas say something.
Raising his eyes from where he had been subconsciously looking at the celestial's hands, he sees the cut on his cheek, swollen red and leaking. He hopes he doesn't flinch but he's not sure at the moment that he's in complete control of his body.
"I, um, I c-can't hear you right now?" Jazz slowly taps his earbud. "Sorry, I-- sorry." He glances back at Axel. "Give me a s-second."
Like that, he quickly escapes into the living room, going to the one person--besides his papa-- he can always trust to help him in situations like this: Nyx.
The musician pokes his sleeping sister awake, her glare from being woken up changing into concern as she sees his face.
Her dark blue shifts, turning a deep navy protectiveness and she sits up, Damien's arm falling loosely over her hips as she swings her legs over the bed. Minty eyes take in his earbuds and the way he's clutching at his phone then narrow.
What happened? She signed, hands tight with worry.
"Cas." Jazz says, shrugging, doing the sign for fighting. "Axel."
"You okay?"
"Fine." He nods, mind screaming, liar, liar, LIAR, LIAR, LIAR-LIARLIARLIAR-- "Can you t-take, take... ta-take c-care of Axel? I'm-- Cas. Bleeding."
She nods but her hands are fast to ask, What color are you right now?
Black, ebony, a Raven's caw in a dark forest, owl's eyes at midnight. Dark, ruination. Fear. He's the color of fear.
He doesn't want to be scared of Cas.
He... isn't.
He just doesn't react well to violence or anger or loved ones being hurt.
He's not scared of the God he worshipped.
"I'm fine." He repeats, offering his skeptical sister a finger boop before turning on his heel as he goes back to the hallway, a pillow he stole from the back of Eris' couch and expecting the celestial to be there but he wasn't.
A harsh feeling tore through his chest then, and he's not sure what it is.
Putting the pillow under Axel's head and trying not to flinch at his bloody nose as he turned the stupid D'Silvetta's head to the side so he wouldn't choke, Jazz quickly moved on and checked his room.
Mint walls, a fern in the corner, a forest green dresser and a deep viridian giant teddy bear by the chest next to the bed. But no green-hued celestial. No Cas or basil or soothing song.
He doesn't look at Nyx and Axel from where she's shaking her best friend awake as he passes them. He knocks on Cas' door, three harsh ones that make his knuckles hurt and swirl towards him like mulberry bursts.
Atlas is the one who opens the door.
Jazz knows he doesn't know sign language, knows that Cas' brother can't hear him, but he can't take out the earbuds. He can't hear everything going on around him. He sees enough. He feels enough. It would be too much.
But the douchebag doesn't even bother saying anything.
With a song twisting like the bark leaves of a willow tree, he looks at Jazz with a semi exasperated and pleading face, gesturing to room before swiftly moving aside to let him go in.
Hesitating only slightly, the musician opens it further and steps half in and half out, staying in the doorway as he blinks over at Cas, not realizing he was pouting at the sight of his bruised and cut cheek..
The celestial says something, body moving in on himself as the pain in his song grows and Jazz's instincts riot in his body. It was wrong for him to be in pain, for him to be hurt.
He should've never let Cas fight Axel.
This was his fault.
Cas moves his hand towards his chest, moving it in a circle and it takes a moment to realize it's not a tic and, instead, and I'm sorry.
Surprise shot down Jazz's spine, momentarily cutting through the fear as he took a couple steps into the room, hands holding onto his shoulders.
Blinking a couple times, looking further at Cas' colors, still an overwhelming amount of just... pain, he tilts his head, "You k-know ASL? And, and you d-don't have to apologize. Axel, w-well, Axel knew what he-- he fights? A lot, I-I mean."
Seeing the flash of chartreuse of annoyance, he realizes that Cas, in fact, doesn't know ASL and the sorry was just a word he knew, he knows he needs to be able to hear him.
But that meant taking his earbuds out.
Atlas' song is so loud, usually. But since it's just Cas...
Glancing back at the door with a wince, Jazz pauses for a couple moments before shutting it completely and sitting down against the floor, back against the wall as he takes out a single earbud.
The celestial's song instantly fills him, it so full of raw fear he didn't understand and anxiety that it amped up his own but he pushed that to the side as he shook his own head, hand briefly coming up to cover his ear before slowly letting it go.
"S-sorry," Jazz risks a glance up at Cas, who's watching him with stormy eyes. There's a battle going on inside him and the musician isn't quite sure what started it. "You can, um-- I can h-hear now." Then he repeats, "You d-don't need to apologize."
"No, I do. I- -in Eden- -scared you and I just don't want--" Cas says, wincing as his shoulders jut up to his ears. "--I don't want that but I'm just, in Eden! I don't, I can't-- I can't--"
Jazz reacts as soon as his panic-filled brain registers that Cas was on the brink of breaking, his tics making him shake as he held his face in his hands, harsh breaths in the shade of seaweed staining the air like a warning.
It's something his Goddess mama does when everything gets too overwhelming and her stutter-- hers is caused by trauma while Jazz's is a speech impediment he always had-- won't let her speak.
It's not a good sign.
And he really wants the celestial to be happy again, to not be upset.
"Cas," He's up and moving over to him before he could think about it, warm hands pushing himself to sit next to the celestial on the bed before moving to gently cradle his trembling form into his arms. "W-we're okay, Cas. You didn't, you didn't scare me. Violence, fighting, a-anger... it triggers bad m-- bad memories. But that's not on you. I-I know you wouldn't hurt me, not even if you, if you wanted to."
Cas doesn't reply but Jazz didn't expect him to right away with the way he was struggling to get a hold of himself.
Repositioning them both, he gently moves them both, back against the wall and the celestial curled between his legs, held against him with the gentle but tight arms he wrapped around his waist.
"We're okay," He repeats, pressing a soft kiss to the side of Cas' head, feeling how cold his was and moving a bit closer to him in response. "You're not scary. Y-you didn't scare me. I run away from, from people I'm scared of. L-like with Atlas, remember? But-- but I'm here with you. I'm, I'm o-okay. Can you breathe alright?"
The celestial gasps, body jolting slightly as his hands tighten from where they're pressed against Jazz's chest making one of his own cover them, hoping to spread some warmth to his cold extremities.
"There," The musician rubs his back, voice gentle. "Like that."
Watching and soothing as Cas' breaths eventually return to normal-- but still slightly labored with the strength the anxiety took out of his body-- Jazz just continues with his soft touches and comforting words, letting know he's here for him.
"I'm sorry," Cas chokes out. "I didn't know that you, that you'd get scared. I didn't -if you need your music, I can...I should stop talking." No, please, he wanted to say. Please don't stop talking. Your voice is beautiful. "I should stop talking."
Then he's sitting up, a harsh breath escaping his mouth as he instantly leans back against the musician again, hand clutching at his stomach.
He's hurt! His mind screams. You let him get hurt. You let him get hurt! Look what you did! LOOK WHAT YOU DID-- LOOKWHATYOUDIDLOOKWHATYOUDIDLOOK--
Axel. It's Axel's fault.
Hurt him back.
No. No. NO. I'm not going to--
HURT HIM BACK.
YOU NEED TO HURT HIM BACK, LOOK WHAT HE DID!
LOOK WHAT HE DID! LOOK! LOOKLOOKLOOKLOOKLOOK--
"Fuck me," Cas groans, ripping Jazz from his thoughts; he wishes he didn't get trapped into them as much as he did. "This sucks."
Wait, he's moving.
He's hurt. He shouldn't be doing that.
Fix it, his thoughts sneer. You need to fix it!
This time, he listens.
"Hold on, Cas, stop moving." Jazz moves his hands down, lightly holding onto his hips, not wanting to touch anywhere that could be sensitive. "Is your stomach actually that bad?" Axel, that stupid D'Silvetta, always went for someone's center while fighting. "Pendejo has heavy hands, you should really make sure he didn't bruise a rib-"
"No," The celestial keeps him from moving closer with a hand on his chest, and Jazz can see a flourish of basil from where he was just calming down. "No. I'm fine. There's nothing--" He's lying. He's in pain. "--there's nothing to check."
"What are you scared of Cas?" Jazz frowns, mint clashing with gray as he searches for the answer.
"Shit," Cas holds his hand over his eyes, blocking them from sight but making his song all the more vibrant. "I forgot you could literally read me like an open book."
Oh...
Jazz didn't know that was a problem. Should he-- should he not read into the celestial's song anymore?
Risking a glance, Cas asks, "Would you accept pomegranates as an answer?"
Fucking pomegranates.
Jazz's anxiety mellowed, behind it was a cold pool of rage, ice protectiveness gripping his heart as he realized something.
Cas doesn't care if he gets hurt.
Cas doesn't think it's a big deal.
But it is.
It is a big deal, it is important, it matters-- anything that hurts him, anything that makes him upset or uncomfortable, matters. Jazz hates that someone, somewhere convinced him otherwise.
"I have...scars." The celestial says slowly.
Scars? Jazz raises an eyebrow and glances towards his own arm, silently asking if it's the same.
Cas threads their fingers together and makes Jazz's palm rest over his fast-beating heart, gray eyes full of raw emotions as he says, "Not like yours."
Confused and worried, the musician asks, "What do you mean?"
"They're more...recent."
Recent? Jazz paused, eyes flicking up to look at the celestial's song.
This pain-- this pain about the scars-- were familiar notes to Cas, it hung around his shoulders heavily but the weight of it was not always unwelcome.
That was scary, knowing hurting himself had that kind of relief, that kind of hold over the celestial.
But Jazz also understood it.
"I'd never judge you, Cas." He says softly, hand lightly coming up to cup the celestial's cheek. "Scars mean that, that you went through something, or g-going through something, and survived even when you're in pain. Even... when you hurt on purpose. I know some people can't ignore that voice in their head, or argue against it. I know that something the pain wins, but you're here and I'm here for you too, no matter what. Even if you get bad again. And I know y-you're scared too, but I need to check your ribs, okay? You're hurt." Jazz tilts his head. "Please?"
"It's not that bad," Cas blinks at him, gray eyes uncertain but the mint that's eating away at the basil lets the musician know he's at least considering it. But he's still scared, and it's breaking his heart. "I know what a bruised rib feels like and this isn't it."
"Y-yeah but bruised ribs can start off feeling not too bad," Jazz knows this first hand, nose wrinkling as he remembers exactly why he knows. "But then they get worse. And even, even i-if they're not bruised, I know that worse injuries can hide behind different injury's pain. Please, Cas? I... I really want to make sure it's not worse than your-- urm, y-your song is telling me?"
"I really hope that song of mine isn't a liar," Cas chuckles, making some of the tension in the conversation to dissipate. Jazz knows he does this on purpose. "Is it annoying that you just, constantly, have to be worried about everyone around you?"
The musician freezes, thoughts going heavy because his answer was yes. Yes, it was annoying that he had to worry. Yes it was annoying he had to pretend not to be worried. Yes it was annoying that people didn't understand how he knew to be worried in the first place. Yes it was annoying to be different.
"Giving a fuck about a lot of things has always been hard for me." Cas admits with a rose-leaf squeak. "I have this list in my mind, you know--" Not really. "--and if someone or something isn't on that list I don't give a shit about it. Like, literally at all. The only exception I have to this is babies, old people and women in trouble, I mostly care about that. You're on the list, so is Vivianna. But I don't -I've never figured out if I was on the list. I'm not sure if I qualify or not. Or even what the qualifications were."
Jazz isn't sure what expression he makes but it sure wasn't a happy one.
Seeing that, for some reason, caused the celestial to continue his rant, "There's too many dark things in my mind to make me even remotely care, half the time I'm just like 'sure Jan' and just move on." Relatable. "But I listen to my intrusive thoughts a lot more than I realistically should, I know that. I mean, I would rather hurt myself, than kill myself or someone else. It's just... hard sometimes...um..."
"Cas," Jazz's hands don't tighten but they shift on his hips, getting a better hold to try and control his emotions. "I don't know who told you that, but there aren't any qualifications to loving yourself. It's not selfish or wrong or bad to love yourself. And, and those thoughts? And I have them too. I k-know it doesn't seem like it, because w-well, um, I usually don't listen? I don't think y-you've seen me angry yet, and I don't want you to. I understand. And you don't hurt anyone who doesn't deserve it, who doesn't practically ask for it like Axel does. It's not like y-your slapping women around or terrorizing people on the street."
"I just-" Cas cuts himself off, rose leaves and chartreuse turning into emeralds and a sea green of worry. "Don't want- -in Eden- -to scare you again. Or trigger you."
Trigger him?
Oh. The cuts.
"You won't," Jazz says, semi distracted by trying to figure out what the emerald meant but also completely sure he won't go off because the celestial has scars like him. If anything-- even though he wished Cas didn't-- he's grateful he understands. "Can I help you now?"
Nodding, the celestial lets the musician take off his tank top, bruised skin cover the center and sides of his chest, more red and angry right now than marks that had a night to heal. But they didn't look too bad.
Definitely not the bruises that come along with broken ribs.Softly running his hand down the bruises, Cas' muscles contract under his hand, but he was right-- they don't look bruised past the muscles and skin, which is a definite good thing because the musician knows how hard Axel hits.
"Anywhere else?" He questions. A shake of the head answers, the emerald back in place and stronger than before but he doesn't know what emotion goes along with it. "Um... What are you f-feeling right now?"
"Your hands are warmer than I thought they'd be," Cas grumbles.
"No, I um, meant... up there?" Jazz points to his song. "There's a color that's confusing me. I'm usually good about knowing what they mean."
"Not to be rude," Cas mumbles, bruised hands coming up to play with the musician's sweatshirt, limber but strong fingers spreading over the bottom of the fabric. "But I'm not telling you."
Jazz can't help pouting.
The one thing, the one emotion that is a mystery, he can't know?
But, on the other non-selfish hand, he knows that he isn't supposed to see things like that anyway, he isn't supposed to know someone's emotions as easy as slipping open a coloring book or playing a song on his phone.
Stopping his observation of Cas' injuries, he allows his God to move closer, knees hitting the side of the bed so that they can properly hug, filling Jazz' chest with a warm viridian and his mouth with a soft sigh.
He really likes the celestial's hugs.
"There's blood on your tank top," Jazz says, moreso as a distraction and a desire towards his feelings than out of courtesy. "Do you want my sweater?"
Grinning as he pulls back slightly, Cas' gray eyes lock onto his mint ones and he says, "Please."
Nodding and with absolutely no shame, Jazz pulls away slightly and shrugs his sweater off, smiling wide enough that his dimples pop out as he holds it out to the celestial, "Here!"
"You're oblivious," Cas says, hands briefly ignoring the sweater to pull the musician down to his level, kissing him softly before chuckling, hand coming up to ruffle Jazz's crazy curls. "Never change."
Slightly confused as to why he's oblivious, Jazz tilts his head but giggles along with the celestial, smile widening.
Maybe being oblivious wasn't such a bad thing.
It did get him a kiss, after all.