skin it

"I'm sorry." Greg hadn't actually thought of it that way until it was said out loud. At one point he would've followed Cam to the end of the world, but he really was making the choice to stop. It wasn't something he'd ever thought would happen considering he'd always thought they would be attached at the hip, but there was no point fighting the truth of it all. "Waiting until the morning isn't gonna make it any easier." He shook his head, giving Cam's neck a gentle squeeze before he let his hand fall back down to his side. He didn't want to spend the entire night dwelling over the fact that it might be the last time he held his best friend as something more. It would only taint the moment. "We can watch a movie or play cards or- I don't care what we do. But maybe we can get Dev to jump in and we can pretend things are normal and have a nice last night. Then when it ends we'll just do our own thing."

Greg was right, putting the inevitable off until morning was just salt in the wound. Maybe Cam operated better like that though, maybe he was so used to being beneath someone's boot he couldn't take his own happiness seriously. All his book and street smarts hadn't left much space for emotional intelligence, so it wasn't until it was too late that he figured out what he'd been missing. He loved Greg, but it wasn't enough if he wasn't doing it the way Greg needed to be loved. "Actually, uh, I think I'm gonna head out," he swallowed the lump in his throat that felt like the size of a baseball as he backed up and swiped his jacket off the back of his desk chair, "I'll... I'll see you around."

Greg flinched as if he'd been slapped. It probably would've hurt less if Cam had actually hit him and it showed in the way his shoulders remained tensed. "Don't. Don't act like I don't care about you just because I want more for both of us." Of course he didn't want to imagine him taking a beating. He didn't want to imagine him with so much as a busted lip, but he knew enough about the greasers to understand the way things worked. They weren't going to magically turn into stand up guys who let him walk away because he wanted out no matter how long he was in. Sooner or later Cam had a beating coming his way if he really did make the moves he said he wanted to make. Greg wouldn't push him towards that if he could help it. When it came to Cam he tried not to push him any direction other than what the other boy said he wanted for himself. Dealing with him when he was angry was easier than looking at him when it was clear how much pain he was causing him, so when Cam pulled Greg turnedto look him in the eye again. "I'm looking at you." His adam's apple bobbed as he struggled to swallow past the lump in his throat before he slowly raised his hand to rest along the side of Cam's neck, threading his fingers through his hair out of habit. "I'm not leaving for good. You're- I couldn't leave you behind if I tried. It'd be like trying to walk without one of my legs or something. I wouldn't want to even if I could."

"You're the only good thing I got," Cam instinctively leaned into Greg's touch, his own hand reaching out to fiddle with the hem of his shirt. Maybe he needed not to put so much of his faith in someone else, but it was too late to stop something he'd been doing since he was a teenager. "I know it's been a long time coming. I know I haven't been... reliable. I'm proud of you for doing something for yourself. It's about time you guys all stopped following my lost ass around waiting for a sign." It would be harder than he cared to admit to wake up alone, but he would do it, and keep doing it, until the tides turned and maybe if he was lucky Greg would still have him. All he had to do was untangle himself from the web he'd fallen into. "Don't go yet," he squeezed Greg's hip, a silent plea to delay the inevitable, "do it in the morning."

"Neither should you." Greg wasn't sure what Cam really wanted anymore, but he couldn't wait for him to figure it out. He'd done that for the better part of three years and didn't seem any closer to finding an answer one way or the other. He couldn't count how many times he'd tried to reassure him that he didn't have to be another Claymore if he didn't want to be. He could just be Cam, even if it was ten times harder. But it seemed like he'd stopped trying to forge that path for himself for whatever reason, and that realization was something that chipped away at Greg's heart. "You don't have to do that. I'll just grab a couple things and go back to my old room for now until everything is sorted." He cleared his throat, finally forcing himself into action as he moved off the dresser he'd been leaning against to rifle through a few of the drawers instead. At least then he didn't have to look at him. "You're still my best friend."

"I don't want it, I'm just dealing with it. I know you think I've given up but I haven't, I'm just not doin' shit as fast as you'd like. You're not the one gettin' beat over it so what does it matter, right?" Cam had felt the venom bubble in his chest before he'd had a chance to stop it. When he finished, he stayed quiet for a moment, waiting. Perhaps for Greg to snap back, because all of this would be so much easier if they were angry, if Cam's heart wasn't breaking in slow motion. It might have been easy, but it wasn't right, so he backtracked with a shake of his head, "I didn't mean that. I'm just... I..." he didn't know what to say, what would make anything better. So much for being smart. "Greg, please," he came up behind him, hesitating for a second before he grabbed his shoulder to turn him around. "Don't walk outta here without looking at me. Makes me feel like you're leavin' for good."

Greg felt his heart sink as he watched Cam's reaction to his words, guilt settling deep in the pit of his stomach. "Cam, I've never wanted you to be anything other than exactly who you are." He shook his head, finally uncrossing his arms long enough to run his free hand through his hair. He would never ask him to change or to put him in another impossible situation, but there was only so much Greg could take. He meant it when he said this, the greasers and everything be adjacent to them entailed, wasn't something he wanted for his future. He didn't want to feel like he was constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, whether that was in the form of the cops showing up at his door or receiving a phone call that someone he cared about was dead. He wanted a future he could look forward to. Maybe Cam hadn't drank the kool-aid but he was complacent in a way Greg never thought he would be with being someone he'd said he never wanted to be. He couldn't blame him for it but he'd slowly realized that it had been the start of something pushing them in opposite directions given his own inability to let go of the past. It was exhausting, and more and more Greg felt like he was waiting to see if Cam would move forward to be the person he'd said he always wanted to be or if that was something that had changed. "You don't have to be sorry for anything. I know you. There's nothing wrong with who you are, and you don't need to be better. Not for me or for anyone else. I love you for you. I just- I don't want my life to revolve around this shit anymore, but it's there threatening to break in the door any second. I don't want that." He shifted in place, clearing his throat as an attempt to stop his voice from cracking. "I think- I think maybe I should start looking for a new place."

Cam was numb, not so much taking in any new information, still reeling from what he'd already heard. He'd always known it was going to happen this way, that Greg was finally going to see what everyone else saw: he was just another good for nothing Claymore. Noble intent or not, he was following in both his brothers' footsteps and that was hardly something he was proud of. After everything they had been through, every promise they'd made each other, he couldn't blame Greg for the way he looked at him now. "You shouldn't want that," he agreed, clenching his jaw to fight off the tidal wave of sadness creeping up on him, "I'm glad you don't." He couldn't help the way he looked up, like a kicked dog, when Greg said he wanted to move out, which felt like a whole other level of finality. They'd been inseparable since they were kids, and now they were over, just like that. "I'll take the couch for now," he spoke quietly, afraid his voice would fail him. "Until you decide. Or I can leave, whatever."

Cam wasn't his babysitter, and Greg knew trying to change Trevor's mind once he'd gotten the idea in his head was about as easy as talking to a brick wall, but that didn't make it any easier. "You shouldn't have taken the money, man." It was easier said than done but Greg would've worked every day for the rest of his life if it meant Cam didn't owe anyone anything. He would've rather been in debt for the rest of his life, but that wasn't his choice to make. None of it was ever his choice and as hard as he tried he couldn't help feeling like his friends were being pulled further and further away from him and who they used to be. "Feels like we've had this conversation before." Even with Cam holding his face, Greg couldn't remember the last time he'd felt like there was so much space between them. "You can do whatever you want and I'll love you no matter what. I just want you to be happy, whether that's being lawyer Cam or anything else. But I think I should take a step back from everything. I'm so tired of not feeling in control of my own life, and I don't think I will until I stop letting this hang over my head."

Cam's entire life was being caught between a rock and a hard place. It was hard to see a light at the end of a tunnel when you were constantly being beat down one way or another; whether it was his dad, Ace, the inequality that came with being a poor kid in a degree full of nepotistic wankers. One problem always made way for another, and honestly, getting jumped in and dealing with owing Ace was the easiest course of action to sealing the one dream he'd had since he could remember. Maybe it had been selfish of him though, to do all of that without considering that while he could handle it, Greg wasn't doing so well. "Oh," he exhaled, hands dropping as he took a step back. There it was, his biggest fear realised. "I'm sorry. For everything. I wanted to be better for you. I thought I could be."

"Talking with Trevor or your brother?" Greg bit the inside of his cheek, keeping his eyes level with Cam. When it came to the gang not talking about things was easier than acknowledging the elephant in the room, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could pretend it wasn't there. Cam didn't have a choice in whether or not he joined but Greg always had faith that he would get out. He wasn't sure when or how, but he'd always believed in Cam. He was smart enough to figure something out if he really wanted to. But the longer things went on the more he felt like Cam had given up. He'd let his brother win and let it change him in the process. "I don't- I don't want this to be my future."

"Well, both, but it went about as well as you can expect with Ace. Trevor's just... he can't see a future the way he's moving now and honestly I've been expecting to get a call that he lost a game of chicken with a train." Cam was lucky that aside from being jumped in he wasn't so involved first hand with the violent side of the gang, but that didn't change the fact that he was beholden to Rosewood's own Pablo Escobar. He still had to do things he wasn't proud of, but he'd naively thought the fact he wasn't constantly coming home bloodied would be enough to keep Greg happy. "I don't know how long it's gonna take. He's paid for school, I can't just take his money and run. Things are okay right now, he's trusting me more. Just because I'm not always miserable about it doesn't mean I've been brainwashed, I swear." Cam crossed the room, hands coming up to gently hold Greg's face. "I want you to be my future, I do. I just need more time."

Greg leaned back against the dresser, keeping his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Cam. Hearing Trevor wanted to join the greasers was one thing, but he still wasn't sure how he felt about the fact that Cam hadn't tried harder to stop it. He wasn't sure what he expected from him considering he knew neither of them could talk Trevor out of making stupid decisions when he had his mind set on something, but Greg believed Cam had some amount of say in things. He'd been in long enough to have his voice matter, and if he said he didn't want him in maybe that would've made a difference. Maybe Trevor wouldn't be on the verge of making a colossal mistake and he wouldn't be looking at Cam like deep down there was a sliver of him that blamed his best friend for it. It was neither of their job to make decisions for their friends but if Cam wasn't in, if he hadn't let his brother force him into things and went along with it for as long as he had, would Trevor have had the idea in the first place? "No." He shook his head slowly, his resolution making itself clear in the way set his jaw. "I'm not doing that. Any of it. If he stupid enough to join them then that's on him. And if you hurt yourself beating the shit out of your best friend because someone else told you to that's.... that's on you."

Greg didn't understand the way it worked from the inside, that no wasn't just an answer, it was disrespect in the lost boys' eyes and that came with a cost. If Cam had the ability to come at it head on, of course he would, but he'd always known he could never beat his brother at his own game. How many times had he tried and come out of it beaten to a pulp? It was futile so he was trying to come to terms with the hand he'd been dealt. Still, he was glad that at least Greg was standing firm in his morals. It meant he hadn't been beaten enough to break, and that meant Cam had done his best to keep it that way. "Yeah, okay," he was tired of arguing with Trevor so he didn't want to start with Greg too. "Just... If you think I haven't been trying to change his mind I'm gonna be real fuckin' hurt."

Ace: Yeah I'm sure thats all you didn't want

He knew what would happen if the greasers let him in - the jumping in part he got, and he vaguely remembered when it'd happened to Cam, even if he'd tried to hide the aftermath playing in Arden's makeup bag. It was how to broach it with Ace he wasn't so sure about, who still scared the shit out of him even if he didn't hate him like he used to, and Trevor's mouth had a habit of getting him in trouble. "Just like that, hey I want in? He's gonna fuckin' laugh at me, man." Trevor choked out a laugh at the thought of it too, shaking his head while he took a swig of beer. "Y'know if we get to that you might need to take it easy on me, not 'cause I can't handle it or nothin' but-," his lips twitched up, a telltale sign he was about to say something real stupid, "What if I think it's hot?"

"Well, that closes that door. If you're too scared of Ace laughin' at you, you're not gonna make it past initiation. All he ever does is laugh at me." Cam dusted his hands together as if it were a job well done when he knew it was far from over. Now the can of worms had been opened there was no way back. "Honestly I'm gonna do my best to be out of the fuckin' country on that d–" Cam caught Trevor's smirk right as he spoke, expression falling deadpan in the type of way that meant he actually found what he'd said pretty funny. "That's one way to get yourself a decent nickname from the start. Everyone'll be out here callin' you T-Boner 'cause you got hard gettin' your ass kicked."

Ace: You're real fuckin' close to attitude that I ain't gonna deal with.

Text || Cam

Trevor got caught up in their make-believe talk sometimes too, whether it was taking off in the car and never looking back, driving 'til they ran out of gas, or some distant future where he had a race horse and a hot tub and every other exorbitant thing they could think of. Panic made it feel in reach for a bit, their winning ticket out, but with hindsight he saw that for what it really was, Rosewood giving them a long leash and then yanking it back. "Oh yeah no fuckin' way," he agreed, with the conviction of someone who'd rather be dead than end up like his dad. "So, uh- I'm not goin' to Ace, I swear, and I'll let you know if I do, but... Do I just ask him? How's that gonna work, 'cause it feels like I might just piss him off."

Cam had half a mind to lie to Trevor, to make up some impossible ritual that one had to go through to even get close to being considered for the gang. The only reason he reconsidered was because he meant it when he said he didn't want to end up like Ace, getting off on controlling everyone around him. He wanted to be Trevor's friend, not his minder. He wanted to trust him, not live in perpetual fear of him taking a running jump off the deep end. "Yeah, you tell him you want in and he'll decide whether he wants to give you a shot. If he says yes, then he decides when you get jumped in. Maybe you get to know where and when, maybe you don't. And if you're real lucky, he doesn't join in."

The two of them spent a lot of time not mulling over what ifs, but just thinking about what life might be like if the odds weren't constantly stacked against them. They talked about a lot of shit, like killing his dad, or getting a horse, or killing Cam's brother (running theme there) — it was all just talk. Deep down he figured they both knew this path they were on was unavoidable. "Y'know stopping me's just gonna make me want it more," he joked, half-heartedly. "It's different than we thought it was too, isn't it. Not so black and white. And you're still goin' to law school, that's not nothin'." Dev and Greg would make it, and he was about to point that out until he realized it wasn't what he meant, there was never a doubt that those two would turn out fine. He sat with that a second then shrugged, "It was never gonna be us, man."

The issue they'd come up against was that Cam had allowed hope to creep into his peripheral. A mistake, he should have known, but it was too late. He'd let himself think he could wrangle his way out of the grasp of the South Side, even seen it happening in real time... until it caught up to him, of course. Truly he'd thought he would never stop fighting it, but his resolve was wavering. He was tired, he was sick of living with his jaw clenched. He wanted so desperately to be one of the good guys but the whole world was already convinced he wasn't, so why continue to waste his time fighting it? "It's not nothin'," he repeated, almost like a mantra. As much as he hated having the trust fund brats whisper about him being a greaser, he couldn't imagine they were doing much better in a moral sense. He just wasn't so great at fraud and blackmail. "Fuck," he hissed, knowing in his bones that Trevor was right. "Okay, yeah... but we ain't ever gonna be our old men, at least. Let me have that light at the end of the fuckin' tunnel."

"We all do," he mumbled back with a shrug. They could feel sorry for themselves all day, complain about what shit cards they'd been dealt, and it wouldn't change anything. Trevor wasn't set on anything yet, it was just an idea that'd been put in his head, and maybe even one that'd been creeping up on him for a while now, ever since that night with Ace and his dad. "What if I want it? And it is my choice." Why he wanted it exactly was something he was still working out, whether that was being part of something bigger, or just because it was something to do. "I am. I'm not gonna run off to Ace or jump into somethin' on an impulse, I promise. I'm just thinkin' about it is all."

Cam could only blame himself for Trevor's flipped interest in becoming a greaser. During their childhood they'd spent endless hours talking about how they'd never be like that, how they were better than the bloodthirsty monsters in the gang. "I can't stop you. That'd make me just as bad as Ace," he shrugged, though his body language made it clear enough he wouldn't want to let it slide. "Look, fuck, I just... I thought things were gonna be so different for us. Now we're exactly where we would have been when we were ten years fuckin' old. What was the point of fighting so hard this whole time if I just ended up caught up in this shit anyways, y'know? Was at least hoping one of us would make it."

"I've looked at him," he admitted, though he couldn't say that was his type - too pretty. The way he saw it Trevor didn't have a whole lot else going for him. He had a college degree but no clue what to do with it, with just the loans he'd cleverly taken out in his father's name to show for it. And once the old man inevitably kicked it, choking on his own vomit probably, like Cam predicted, who knew what sorts of problems he'd inherit. It was far from rock bottom but close enough to entertain joining a gang, apparently. "Easy, been takin' punches my whole life." He finished off his beer and reached for another. More than the Chadwells or other big names on the north side, Rosewood revolved around Ace- of course he had business everywhere. Where someone like him possibly fit in to that he didn't know but they never thought Cam would get so involved either. "You do it. You think I'm better than you? Look at my lawyer dawg." He wasn't dismissing him at all, but it was hard to take his scare tactics seriously when he considered who was talking. "What else am I gonna do?"

Cam had been waiting for this day, fearing the moment. Technically he didn't have a leg to stand on; Trevor was right, he was part of Ace's gang, so why couldn't anyone else be? "I think you deserve better," he said, quieter, not trying to argue. "I didn't have a choice, man, I don't want this. Honestly I'm only still in because I'm too chicken shit to get jumped out, because getting jumped out is worse than getting jumped in and I'm not trying to have every bone in my body broken because Ace knows he can't show me no mercy for leavin' in front of anyone else. I–" he stopped, knowing he was never going to change Trevor's mind if he'd already made it up. "Just think about it real fuckin' hard, man."