On the Other Side (Cyril)

By Josiah's estimation, the Guy Fawkes celebration had been a success. Like many of the attendees, he didn't know exactly why they were celebrating the British holiday, but any excuse for a party was met with enthusiasm by him. He should have known better by now, because something bad seemed to happen at every gathering, but he couldn't help the thrill that ran through him at the prospect of something new and exciting happening on the grounds, whether he was helping plan the occasion or merely acting as a silent chaperone on the sidelines. These things were always good excuses to mingle too, and since he had more or less become Cyril's front man in recent weeks, the importance of maintaining a respectable appearance was greater than ever. Luckily, Cyril seemed to have a renewed grasp on the concept too, and in remembering that he was facility administrator, had not only come out tonight, but had attended the Halloween staff function as well. Granted, that had gone poorly, but the relative success of tonight made up for it. He hadn't been tricked, or haunted by some ghostly vision, or inflicted with another series of uncontrollable spasms and tremors, only sipped hot cider and watched fireworks explode like rebellious stars against the velvet backdrop of a late autumn sky. Maybe it was a small victory, but it made a difference, and Josiah would take his wins where he could get them, however sizable.

Talking with Ellis had been the high point of his night. It didn't seem natural, the way in which he felt lured to him - it couldn't be, not when he drew the stares and attentions of so many other men - but he found that he liked him anyway, admiring his gentle and soothing demeanor. Good bedside manner for a nurse. Whatever his attraction was, whatever strange thing was going on, it could hardly be his fault. Maybe it was one of Hallowsgate's notorious "gifts" to a loyal subject, he mused with a sarcastic roll of his eyes. Josiah could sympathize with having an unwanted ability, something he'd never asked for, but he couldn't be sure that that was the case with Ellis. Maybe he'd never know. If the ghosts were capable of anything besides the stereotypical acts he knew them for, he had yet to learn it. He had already noticed that when Cyril got agitated, he had a tendency to short out the lights or burst the bulbs entirely, but since it had only happened a couple of times in his presence, he'd forgotten about it entirely, and likely wouldn't think about it until the next time. There was bound to be one, with the way they were both so on edge lately.

On top of everything else, the lack of intimacy in their relationship was bothering Josiah more than ever. Cyril's distance was seriously off-putting, and while he knew it wasn't because he was doing something wrong, it was discouraging enough to cause brief flare-ups of insecurity on his part. Kindly put, Cyril was a mess, and it was no news to Josiah, but did he think he could use it as an excuse to keep him at an arm's length forever? When it came to sexuality, the two men clearly didn't think the same way, but Josiah knew he had to broach the subject soon. Things would undoubtedly be a little... different now that Cyril was dead, though just how different he had no idea, not having much to compare it to in the time they'd been together. He'd given the subject enough time to brew since the accident, having put it off several times already because he was too nervous to go through with it, always coming up with some excuse not to. More than anything, he worried that bringing it up might give Cyril cause to push him away further, deeming him selfish or, worse yet, insensitive. Josiah couldn't help his desire to be close to him, to be with him as most lovers were, and his indecision on what to do about it only made his frustration mount higher. Cyril was oblivious to the growing tension in Josiah, which made things all the worse. One of these days, they were going to reach a breaking point in which one or both of them snapped. He could feel an argument brewing on the horizon, particularly given Cyril's recent bouts of jealousy - he just didn't know when it was going to happen. Hopefully it wouldn't be tonight, but if Cyril had seen him to talking to Ellis, he had to be prepared for another silly confrontation that ultimately went nowhere and never got resolved. It was his great respect and love for Cyril that kept him from ever pushing him too far, but how much longer would it last before he broke? A man could only take so much.

By the time Josiah helped finish breaking down the leftover flotsam and jetsam of the night's festivities, it was well past midnight, the patients long since escorted back to their beds. The cottage was dark when he entered, which meant Cyril must have been tying up loose ends somewhere. He didn't mind the brief moments of silence, taking the opportunity to get out of his bulky clothing and into something considerably more comfortable. Clad in a white wife beater and a pair of patterned silk pajama pants, his face freshly washed and feet bare, Josiah was ambling into the kitchen when he heard the front door open and close. Within moments, the next morning's pot of coffee was ready to brew at the touch of a button, and he was padding back out into the living room, ready to greet his wayward spirit with a weary smile. "I think it went well, don't you? I didn't have a seizure in front of half the staff again, so that's an improvement." Maybe he spoke about it too casually, but it was essential in keeping the memory from driving him mad with unanswered questions and remembered pain.