1.2; Lockets full of ash

We’ve been so busy trying to repay the owners of this hostel for allowing us to stay and having Curtis recover from the operation that we haven’t had much time to write about what’s been going on. Most of it’s been ‘going on’ around Curtis, and it’s sent him right back into that half-comatose state that makes me want to hit him.

He was put on lockdown for bed rest, and I was picking up the slack wherever I could. Avoiding Ivory like the plague, because I’m still not 100% sure on how the Mark spreads, and if she has it I’m not going to be blamed for it. I flat-out fucking refuse. So I was taking care of Windmill, practically rebuilding some rooms of this place, taking care of Curtis, then I’d sleep. That was going on for about five days straight.

Then a few nights ago, I woke up after another Blair-nightmare, and at the foot of my bed there was this dark, stained cloth all folded up.

I unfolded it, and inside was a pile of ash.

I’m not stupid, I knew full fucking well they were Blair’s freaking ashes. One of Blair’s bloody shirts.

I grabbed it, ran to Curtis’s room, and he had a bundle just like it, on his chest, and his face was bleeding like something had raked claws down his cheeks. He’d been awake, when the Hound came, and it had mauled his face. Like Blair’s.

He was just frozen, there…staring blankly at me, when I was calling in the doctor and patching him up best I could. After that, I decided, no more of this separate room bullshit. He’s trusted me enough in the past, knowing what kind of taint I have inside me, and he’s never treated me any differently. And I can control myself around him.

Today, I went out and got us these cheap lockets – maybe it’s stupid, or cheesy, but I don’t care. I won’t let some stupid goddamn mutt get the better of us, and I don’t feel right if Blair’s not with me. I’m pretty sure Curtis was the same.

I filled the lockets up with the ash, sealed them shut (welding them might have been carrying it a little far, considering it’s cheap metal, but it’s not like I torched them exactly. I was careful) and put one on me, one on Curtis. He still hasn’t spoken a word for two days, but I can tell he’s going to keep it. He’s just lying back right now with his hand around the locked part…

Maybe it’s the Vision still fucking with my head, or maybe it’s because nothing too horrible has happened since the Red Cap removal surgery, but… I feel like something worse is on its way, and I just want us to be strong enough to handle it. Blair makes us stronger.

Dispute Against Madness