Always the Same Thing (RPS) Pt. 1

[bandearg_rois]

Title: Always the Same Thing
Disclaimer: Do I own them? Hell no, if I did, this shit would be real life.
Warnings: Angst, lots and lots of angst, possible age!kink (not sure if this counts for it) bad language, and more angst.
Summary: Two Days and One Decision. Life is a bitch.
Music Listened to: Our War - Neon Trees (inspiration, kind of)


The rain was pelting him, but he couldn't bring himself to care. The pain in him was too much, too dark and deep. He couldn't turn around, couldn't go back and shove the bedraggled handful of flowers he'd been carting around for hours into the mail slot. He just couldn't. And it was all his fault. All of it.

Two Days Earlier

"Hey, you know what I'm about to say, don't you?" A beat. "Anton?"

"...Stop talking."

"Anton, don't do this." Wry laughter, bubbling up from a pit of pain so wide and deep he'd be swallowed by it if he allowed it.

"Can't help it. You're leaving, and I'm not."

"Hey, not like we won't see each other again." More laughter, muffled into his arms as he shook with something that wasn't crying, not quite. "I'm serious! Just because we aren't working together doesn't mean we won't see each other."

"You're a real dick, Chris. I mean that from the bottom of my heart. Can we just... NOT talk about this right now?"

"Hey, I'm not the one who went and fell in love like a stupid little kid." A sharp sound, exhalation of breath, and then panting, and there's no going back, no pretending the conversation hadn't happened, because it has, and now he can't breathe.

"You bastard." Two words, calculated to hurt, to twist in the gut like of those fancy looking knives that can't possibly do anything but kill slowly. "You are a fucking bastard and it's all your fault. YOU were the one that started this shit. I wonder if you're the reason he's dead." Harsh words, words that would be apologized for later, if the point of no return hadn't already been breached, and broken.

"Don't do that. Don't bring him into this, Anton, you fucking-"

"No. You don't get to say anything to me. Either fuck me or get out. Because you will never say another word to me unless we have to." A sigh, and footsteps thudding across the hardwood. The door opens, and closes, leaving a silence that feels like the vacuum of space has decided to settle in this one space, broken only by harsh wracking sobs that finally came out, long after they should have.

One Day Before

"Mr. Bale! Mr. Bale! Can I ask you a question?" the fucking vultures are circling, sensing a kill and he just pushes his sunglasses up his nose before pushing through the throng, refusing to get caught up in the scene today, determined to get the fuck away from everything and just think before he has to go back to New York and Anton's stuck because he still has Star Trek and Christian just can't stay.

He finally makes it and heads for 'Anywhere But Here' that ends up being Anton's hotel, where the rest of the ST cast are staying, at least the ones who don't have an apartment in the city. He tries to get around them, but Urban corners him in the elevator.

"You're a real dick, Bale," he growls, and Christian just doesn't have time to deal with machismo bullshit. He has to try to get to Anton and explain and maybe, just maybe, fix this hell he's put both of them into. He knows that he can't do much; Sibi was understanding, but that only went so far before he was actively fucking up, though how he can fuck up worse then he already has is sort of a mystery.

"Preaching to the choir, Urban," he says crisply and shoulders out of the elevator as soon as possible, wishing he had Bruce Wayne's weight still so that he could just shove the larger man out of his way instead of ducking under the outstretched arm that was blocking his exit. He stands silently in front of Anton's door, wondering whether or not to knock.

"He isn't there," a soft, feminine voice says, and he turns. Zoe is standing in the doorway of a suite down the hall, looking at him like she wants to claw his eyes out and hug him at the same time. "Chris took him home last night; they might still be there." With that she turns and the door shuts with a solid 'snick' and he's left alone again, pondering the best course of action. He needs to talk to Anton, to work this out, but he doesn't quite know where Chris Pine lives, let alone how to get the boy to talk to him. 'Maybe if you didn't call him a fucking boy like he's a child,' a snide voice in his mind says, and he quashes it, taking the stairs this time as he leaves the hotel through the back entrance, not trusting himself not to attack Urban if the man opens his mouth.

The Morning Of

The pain is a burning piece of pitch lodged in his chest, a painful reminder that nothing is ever going to be the same. The rain hits the windows hard, and for a moment he allows himself to marvel that the city of sun is in the midst of the worst, most persistent rain he's ever seen. 'Fits the general mood, though'' he mentally snorts, turning his face away from the window, not wanting to watch.

"Tony," Chris says, and he turns with a half-hearted smile to accept the coffee his blonde costar hands him. He can't help but think of all the times Christian made him tea after finding out that he hated coffee, and he can't bring himself to complain, not when this man is being so generous.

"Thanks" There's silence, but not the uncomfortable one he's been used to, and he relaxes into it, into the moment, until the door buzzes. Chris puts the mug down and cocks an eyebrow before looking through the peephole and then putting the chain lock on.

"What do you want?"

"I have to talk to him." The cultured words send a shock through him and part of him foolishly just wants to get up and burst through the door, hug the life out of the man on the other side, whether or not he's broken his heart. The other part snorts derisively and lets out a string of curse words in various languages, his mother-tongue chief among them.

"He doesn't need your shit, Bale," Chris growls, and Anton almost smiles, because this man is the best friend he could possibly ask for.

"I'll talk," he says suddenly, surprising even himself. "I'll talk."

(On to Part 2)