it's your choice. ronan just isn't going to like it, if you choose to rest.
[Magnus has a better situation than most -- including Noah, with his head full of cotton -- but dying did change you, forever. fucked you up, forever; Magnus remembers more about the way his organs felt, melting inside him, than any given day in middle school. plenty of warriors choose to fade away, than stick around, in Valhalla. it's not a choice he'd make, but he can understand needing to let go, because he's let go before. he's chosen to die before]
[he doesn't want Noah to get the wrong impression, about how he feels; he adds, reassures]
it hurts everyone to be alive. especially the dead. you're allowed to say when it's enough.
[Noah steps outside ten minutes later, hands stuffed in his pockets and shoulders hunched. His eyes are pink and puffy - he's been crying, and not bothering to hide it this time.]
[the sight of the red eyes, the weird lack of expression on a normally so-animated face, drops a stone into the well of his chest; it bangs off the sides, echoes, splashes at the bottom. Magnus doesn't have any answers, but he does have, typically, an acumen for escape]
C'mon. I think you'll like this place.
[and while Magnus doesn't usually initiate touch -- as Noah well knows -- he does this time, slinging an arm around Noah's narrow shoulders]
[It's tiny and pathetic and damp with tears, like a squeak from a dying mouse. His body shakes, but he doesn't shy away from the comforting arm around his shoulder.]
... He said he'll come with me, Magnus. When I leave for good.
[the arm around Noah's shoulders tightens, and for as inhuman as Magnus actually is, the warmth is all human; no alf seidr, no einherjar strength. it's just a body, hugging another closer, protectively]
That's how he feels, too. How is he supposed to choose to live, with you gone?
The same way everyone who knew me did the first time!
[But then Magnus is pulling him in closer, and the affection tugs out another helpless sob. Noah raises his sweatshirt sleeve, trying to hide the inevitable.]
[Magnus stops, hearing the sob. takes him to the side of the street, away from foot traffic, away from street lights, towards a small area with benches and topiary overlooking the ocean. he directly faces Noah, tugs him in matter of fact, for him to hide wherever he wants, against Magnus]
[quietly]
Can you really say they were like Ronan is, to you?
[Magnus -- decidedly sets his feelings about Adam aside, for the moment. he shakes his head]
It's not a contest, or a game about who loves who least. There's no such thing as happy endings, there's just -- what people, decide, to do. How they make the best of the shitty fate that got dumped on them.
[he squeezes Noah, the wetness at his neck making his chest ache emptily]
You gotta simplify. You wanna rest. Ronan wants to rest, if you do. If you don't, he still might die another way. You still might -- lose, more parts, of you. You don't have time for fighting about it.
[Magnus feels too old, in this moment; tired of the grief and suffering and expiration dates]
Choose what you want, while you're alive enough to want it. Find the life even if there's death everywhere, Noah. If you choose to rest, stand by it, with everything in you.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[this is A Lot, to talk about over text]
it's your choice. ronan just isn't going to like it, if you choose to rest.
[Magnus has a better situation than most -- including Noah, with his head full of cotton -- but dying did change you, forever. fucked you up, forever; Magnus remembers more about the way his organs felt, melting inside him, than any given day in middle school. plenty of warriors choose to fade away, than stick around, in Valhalla. it's not a choice he'd make, but he can understand needing to let go, because he's let go before. he's chosen to die before]
[he doesn't want Noah to get the wrong impression, about how he feels; he adds, reassures]
it hurts everyone to be alive. especially the dead. you're allowed to say when it's enough.
no subject
[He's on foot, since he was only a few blocks away, loading up on early bulk Halloween candy.]
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[and Magnus will be waiting, outside the Heropa porter, hands in his jean jacket, hoodie pulled up]
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Hey.
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[the sight of the red eyes, the weird lack of expression on a normally so-animated face, drops a stone into the well of his chest; it bangs off the sides, echoes, splashes at the bottom. Magnus doesn't have any answers, but he does have, typically, an acumen for escape]
C'mon. I think you'll like this place.
[and while Magnus doesn't usually initiate touch -- as Noah well knows -- he does this time, slinging an arm around Noah's narrow shoulders]
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[It's tiny and pathetic and damp with tears, like a squeak from a dying mouse. His body shakes, but he doesn't shy away from the comforting arm around his shoulder.]
... He said he'll come with me, Magnus. When I leave for good.
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That's his choice. Just like it's yours, to leave.
[it's always about choice, with Magnus; even, especially, painful choice. Magnus turned it down, offered the chance to see his mother in Hel]
I'm sorry, Noah.
[it doesn't make it better; it doesn't help anything, to say sorry. but it should be said. it's not said enough]
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How am I supposed to choose it if it means he'd die?
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That's how he feels, too. How is he supposed to choose to live, with you gone?
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[But then Magnus is pulling him in closer, and the affection tugs out another helpless sob. Noah raises his sweatshirt sleeve, trying to hide the inevitable.]
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[quietly]
Can you really say they were like Ronan is, to you?
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N-no.
[His face presses against Magnus' shoulder, small and quivering.]
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[he breathes calm, again, not magic; just the rise and fall of his chest, intentionally slow, as Noah shivers against him. he doesn't let him go]
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[He tilts his head, as if to look up at Magnus, but instead his nose just presses into the boy's neck, crooked and damp with tears.]
He's not supposed to pick me over them. He's with Adam back home, that's his happy ending.
no subject
It's not a contest, or a game about who loves who least. There's no such thing as happy endings, there's just -- what people, decide, to do. How they make the best of the shitty fate that got dumped on them.
[he squeezes Noah, the wetness at his neck making his chest ache emptily]
You gotta simplify. You wanna rest. Ronan wants to rest, if you do. If you don't, he still might die another way. You still might -- lose, more parts, of you. You don't have time for fighting about it.
[Magnus feels too old, in this moment; tired of the grief and suffering and expiration dates]
Choose what you want, while you're alive enough to want it. Find the life even if there's death everywhere, Noah. If you choose to rest, stand by it, with everything in you.