the sound of silence @silent-cyrus - Tumblr Blog

trent-martin‌:

Trent nodded in sympathy. He’d figured the kid probably wasn’t from the city. He wondered if that meant…”You from Muddy Waters by any chance?” He figured it was a decent guess, anyway. “I don’t really know Chicago either, if that makes you feel any better, but I did used to live in New York so I’m pretty good at navigating. We should be able to get to a grocery store soon enough.” He glanced around and picked a likely direction and headed off that way, glancing back to make sure the kid was following. It wouldn’t really help the other guy if they immediately got separated in the crowd. Without the headphones, the city noise was intruding on Trent but he hoped if he kept talking to the kid and focusing on him and their task, he wouldn’t get too wigged out.

Cyrus nodded at the question of if he was from Muddy Waters. He wasn’t sure how the guy could’ve guessed that, unless he was also from there. Still, he felt wary and more than a little nervous, as he followed Trent down the sidewalk.

“You, um, you’re not . . . you’re not going to kill me or anything, are you?” he asked hesitantly, pretty sure he had nothing for the guy to kill over, but if Trent was crazy enough he wouldn’t need to have anything. The guy could just kill him for the fun of it.

#trent

damndamionx‌:

There never really was a time wherein Damion had bumped into Cyrus without needing to go elsewhere or do something. But as always, he would somehow manage to squeeze in enough of a social bonding for the two of them, regardless of the situation. It was really a dead give-away as to how much attention the doctor wanted from the younger one.

And right on cue, the answer, as always, was with Damion. With a glint of mischief in his eyes, he was easily in a playful mood. “There just so happens to be a bodega that you can go to.” he shared, “It’s a bit of a walk from here, but it’s definitely the closest one that I know of. And I know the city like the back of my hand.” There was no missing the haughty tone he toted. “I’ll take you there.” he announced, tenderly pulling Cyrus by the arm closer.

Cyrus tried his best to fight a blush, as Damion pulled him closer, but he doubted he succeeded. There was just something about the older man that made him flustered while at the same time he felt perfect safe. He’d never been taken care of in the way Damion seemed to want to take care of him, and even though everything about interactions with others made Cyrus nervous, he didn’t mind when he was around Damion.

“Okay,” he said with a slight nod. “Let’s go.” He smiled faintly, hesitating before moving his hand down to take Damion’s.

#damion

damndamionx‌:

Seeing Cyrus, out of all people, had his heart skip a beat. Easily, it put the brightest smile on his face. He hadn’t seen the younger one for ages, owing to his own busy schedule. The number of times that doctor was tempted to go looking for Cyrus was wildly numerous, to be quite honest; the only thing that had stopped him was truly his work (and maybe a little shame).

As Cyrus turned, his hold on the other one’s shoulders slackened, letting go. “Of course I’m here. Chicago is my town.” Damion reminded him, in any case that his little Bambi forgot. This was literally his territory, his turf, so to speak. And in any case, he would rather be here than anywhere else, in the wake of the tragedy that had befallen Muddy.

Pointing his thumb towards the cafe across the road, the man grinned. “I had just finished having coffee with a friend of mine when I saw you.” It’s not like he was stalking Cyrus or anything. Perhaps fate was just really on his side. “Now, is there anywhere you need to be? I’d love to have a little catch-up with you. I haven’t seen you in ages so you can’t tell me there’s no reason to.” he pouted, crossed his arms over his chest. Eyeing Cyrus keenly, a little smile peeked on his lips. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“Um, I was actually . . . I need to get groceries for my mom,” Cyrus admitted, lifting the paper with the list on it to show Damion. “I just . . . have no idea where there’s a grocery store around here.” He looked around the street corner before turning back to Damion. “So, um, I guess . . . we can hang out. If you help me.” He gave Damion a tentative smile. He had missed the other, though he was rather embarrassed to be found in his current state, completely bewildered and anxious. Though, once he thought about it, that was usually how he was twenty-four-seven.

#damion

trent-martin‌:

Trent wasn’t out for a run, the idea still seemed kind of silly to him, but he had started taking some longer walks. It was partially to get to know the area around the motel, partially to distract himself from drinking, and also to try and figure out where some quieter areas were where he could try not to feel like the city was sucking the life out of him like New York had. It didn’t look like New York, for all that it had the same big city feel generally, so that helped. Listening to music while walking kept him from panicking, too, not loud enough to make his ears bleed or so that he’d be totally unaware of his surroundings but it blocked out some of the city noise that was liable to spike up his anxiety.

He hadn’t really been paying attention to where he was going, though when he took a moment to get his bearings he realised he could find his way back to the motel. Living in New York for so long had given him a good sense of being able to get around in a big city without getting too lost, which was something, at least. It was when he stopped to figure things out that he spotted the nearly petrified looking kid, who happened to be approaching him anyway. Pausing the music he took out his headphones, wanting to ask the kid if he was okay but Trent didn’t get the chance before he was asked a question. He glanced around and didn’t spot one immediately so shook his head.

“Can’t say I do, but I can help you find one. I’m guessing you’re not familiar with this neighbourhood?” Or possibly not even the city, given how scared and lost he looked, but that was just a guess. Trent smiled as he pocketed his headphones, hoping he’d at least put the kid somewhat at ease.

Cyrus was grateful when the man stopped, though his hope for answers dwindled, as the man admitted that he didn’t know where one was. He was willing to help, however, which Cyrus supposed he should be grateful for, though he’d been hoping for some quick directions to then follow on his own. He wasn’t great around strangers.

“Um, no, I’m not,” he replied in answer to the question. “I-I’ve never even been to Chicago before.” He shook his head, not caring if that made him look pathetic. He knew he was pathetic. The man didn’t appear immediately threatening, though, so maybe it was okay.

#trent

damndamionx‌:

Being back in his city meant that Damion could leave the wretched motel room in favour of the luxe living he was accustomed to. Sure, he might be sleeping in a sorry excuse of a motel, but everything else in his life was back to his grandiose swing of things - the finest shopping centers, the finest food, surrounded by the finest people. Oh, what he would give to be back here for good.

Unfortunately, the remnants of the idyllic town followed him, as he knew their fates to be in the big city as well. Running into them was all a matter of avoiding their faces before they could even recognise him. But it didn’t apply to everyone.

He had just stepped out of a coffee catch-up with a dear friend of his when he wondered where to head on next. And it was then, as his eyes wandered around for a new setting, that his gaze landed upon a face he had missed dearly. Cyrus. Without further ado, the doctor smoothed his suit and vest as he headed over the younger boy, completely ignoring the fact that he was speaking to someone else.

Walking up to him, Damion stopped short just behind him, clearing his throat to catch his attention. “Muddy, Chicago… I always seem to end up finding you, Bambi.” he teased, pulling him close from behind to fully end the current conversation Cyrus was having in favour of his.

Cyrus nearly jumped out of his skin, as he heard the throat clear behind him. He flinched automatically, as he felt the hands wrap around his arms to pull him close to someone, his heart pounding rapidly. But then he registered the voice, and the nickname, and he immediately relaxed.

Turning, he looked up at Damion, swallowing hard, pretty sure he’d never been so glad to see someone in his life. “Y . . . you’re here too,” he said, which was a rather silly thing to say. Of course Damion was there. He was in Muddy Waters when it flooded, so naturally he’d be relocated to Chicago as well. He grimaced.

“I-I mean, of course you’re here. I guess I just meant . . . what-what are you doing here?” He glanced around the street corner, thinking this was a pretty strange coincidence.

#damion

To say Cyrus was terrified of being in Chicago would be an understatement. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he’d be standing on a sidewalk corner in the middle of the Windy City, clutching a piece of paper with a list of groceries on it, desperately trying to figure out which way to go. As soon as they’d arrived, his father had gone off to check out whatever bars or gambling tables he could find, leaving his mother in the motel room with no groceries or anything to use for entertainment. So she’d instructed him, her son with zero experience in a city, to go out and get her things.

It didn’t take him long to get completely turned around. He had no idea where he was going, having no cell phone to look things up on Google Maps, and the noise and general crowdedness of the city had him struggling for breath, on the verge of a panic attack.

This definitely wasn’t how he saw himself getting out of Muddy Waters. And, much to his dismay, he found himself wishing he was back there among the familiar.

Knowing he wasn’t going to get anywhere standing frozen on a street corner, he swallowed hard and turned to the next person that passed him.

“Um, e-excuse me. D-do you know where there’s a grocery store nearby?”

#mwstart #open

Eva smiled at him dearly, moving her crutches so that she could give Cyrus a hug. With just one hand, she wrapped it around him tenderly, pulling him into a tight embrace. “You know that I would never leave without saying goodbye. That would be too cruel.” she murmured into his ear, reassuring him. “Do let me know if you’ve thought about it, okay?” she added, before giving him a swift kiss on the cheek.

Cyrus smiled faintly, when he felt the kiss on his cheek and heard her reassuring words. He nodded slightly, as he released her. “I will think about it,” he told her, biting his lip. It was something he had been thinking about, ever since Eva first told him he needed to get out of the trailer where his dad lived. But every time he did, he came up with an excuse to stay. Maybe deep down he wanted to stay. It didn’t make sense, but what else could it be?

“You should rest and heal up,” he told Eva. “Do you have a ride home or . . .?” He glanced at her crutches, wondering if she’d really walked all the way there with them.

#eva

evaxreid:

Such a sweet boy. Eva shook her head again, this time, almost chuckling. “Cy, I get it. My proposition was way too out there. You deserve a chance to think about it. Without being rushed.” she reiterated, looking to him. “After all, what I just asked of you is a life-changing decision. It would make sense that you don’t jump on it right away. Unless you’re a little bit off your rockers, like me.” she pointed out, shrugging.

With that, the blonde slowly got up from her seat, reaching for her crutches, before fully standing up. “No pressure. As I said before, the offer will stand. Take your time, Cy. Think about it.”

Cyrus moved to stand as well. “If you do go without me . . . don’t leave without saying goodbye, okay?” he requested, hesitating before stepping forward to hug her. He didn’t like the thought of her leaving on her own, but he knew he couldn’t really stop her if she wanted it badly enough. He just hoped she wouldn’t forget to say goodbye and give him a chance to see her one last time.

#eva

evaxreid:

“Mad?” Eva looked confused, brows furrowed yet again. Was he taking it too much to heart, her words? “Now, why would I be mad?” she asked, shaking her head in amusement. “Because you didn’t jump at right away at my proposed plan to run away?”

Cyrus bit his lip. “Well . . . yeah. I mean, you came out here all excited and everything . . .” He shrugged uncomfortably. “I just don’t want you think that I’m saying ‘no’ because I don’t want to be with you or nothing. Because it’s not like that. You’re one of my only friends here. If it weren’t for my mom, I’d run away with you in a heartbeat.” Though, that wasn’t entirely true. There was one other person that was keeping Cyrus in Muddy Waters, though he wasn’t entirely sure what this someone would think if he knew that.

#eva

salvagingsloan:

The desire to unwrap Cyrus’s hamburger or give him a way to eat with one arm came and went far too quickly for Sloan to be considered generous for entertaining the idea. She watched him, scrutinized his movements and finally waved him inside the shop after he had agreed that he could stock shelves.

“It’s not gonna be that fuckin’ hard, Cyrus.” If she wasn’t afraid of running into a customer on the way in, she might’ve started up her mother’s old speech on defeatism and her father’s rhetoric about the value of hard work. Luckily, Sloan had forgotten half the words and had moved on to more pressing matters by the time both of them were inside. “So, I keep the stock in the back room – - that door, right there, right by the restrooms - – and the inventory’s all done on the computer. I don’t really… Uh, I mostly eyeball what we’ve got and figure out what we need. I’ll get you some numbers by the end of the week. It’s mostly just basic shit – - oil, wipers, fuzzy dice, that kind of shit - – but it looks better for the shelves to be organized. You got all that?” He wasn’t stupid, but she feared overwhelming him while she walked by shelves and arranged plastic containers one way or another. “I’d give you the ‘don’t steal this or I will hunt you down’ speech, but you’ve not got a car and it’s not like there’s a black market for Armor All.”

Cyrus nodded along as Sloan explained what he’d be doing and how she expected him to do it. He couldn’t help but snort in a soft laugh when she told him she didn’t expect him to steal anything, since the immediate mental picture he got was of himself trying to run from the garage carrying as many car parts as he could with one arm, excess parts falling every which way.

“Um, yes, ma’am. I won’t steal anything,” he said, trying to straighten out his face so he wouldn’t have to explain to her his thought process just then. “Um, thanks again for letting me stay and help out here. I won’t let you down.” He shook his head, honestly hoping he wouldn’t, at least.

#sloan

atreus-trower:

Atreus perked up again, seeming to forget that Cyrus had ever tried to say no. “Yeah, okay. Thanks. I’ll go look,” He stepped backwards towards the doors, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Unless you wanna help me look for them.”

“Um, yeah, okay,” Cyrus said with a nod, stepping over to the wall to lean the broom against it. He figured at least this way if Sloan came back and caught Atreus snooping through the tires she wouldn’t accuse him of stealing, since Cyrus would be there to explain the situation. If Sloan believed him. Shaking the doubt out of his mind, he gestured for Atreus to follow him. “Um, this way . . .”

He hesitated before moving forward to walk past the man, leading the way out and around back of the garage, really hoping there were tires or something the guy could buy so he wouldn’t make a fool out of himself.

#atreus

atreus-trower:

“Oh.” Atreus realized that he wasn’t going to get very far with this non-employee, though it was pretty disheartening because getting all the way out here without a car had been a huge pain in the ass. As much as Atreus enjoyed the great outdoors, it was hot as hell this time of year.

“Okay, well, I guess I’ll do that.” He deflated a little. “Thanks for your…time.”

Cyrus felt bad when Atreus visibly deflated. Looking around the garage, he tried to remember where he’d seen some motorcycle tires. “There . . . might be some tires around back? I mean, I guess if you can find one you can buy one.” He bit his lip, hoping he wouldn’t get in trouble for this, but a paying customer was better than no customer, right?

#atreus

evaxreid:

Eva ran her hand through her blonde locks, tousling them. “Cyrus, I’m not in a rush to leave. Not just yet anyway.” she further explained coolly. She had plans, yes, but not immediate ones. Her leave, should it go through, would have to be executed in a precise manner. For now, however, all she had was the idea. “So please, take your time.”

Cyrus chewed on his lip for a moment. He glanced over at her and then away, staring off at the wall before sighing and turning back to look at her. “Are you mad?” he asked softly, not sure if it was his anxiety or not that was telling him she was upset with him for saying no. He didn’t want to upset her, but he felt he had valid reasons for staying, and he felt bad that she wouldn’t just go without him. He felt like maybe he was holding her back.

#eva

detectivemacdaddy:

“Great,” Mac said flatly, in a tone that indicated that things were not great at all. Of course, she’d given no notice before stopping by, and she hoped that it was just a busy schedule keeping them apart. She hated to think that Sloan was avoiding her, though it wasn’t totally out of the realm of possibility. Even so, it’d been a while since Mac had given her any reason to.

“Volunteering? Here?” she scoffed, examining a pile of car parts before turning her attention to the kid. She gave him a quick once-over, a plan crystallizing as she approached. “How long have you been working here?”

“I owe Ms. Martin a favor,” Cyrus explained, thinking that was close enough to the truth, at least. He shifted backwards, slightly, as she stepped toward him, clutching the broom handle tightly and knowing there was no way to escape, really. He swallowed hard at the next question.

“Um. Since just before the spring fling thing?” he said, not entirely sure how long ago that was without a calendar in front of him. Honestly, the days tended to run together when there wasn’t much to do except work and wander the town to avoid going home.

#mac

evaxreid:

The blonde waited; brows raised as she waited for what his reasoning would be. And when he did deliver, she nodded solemnly in understanding.

Of course he still had someone holding him back. Perhaps that was their key difference - Eva was a fully grown, adult woman with no one to hold her back, whilst Cyrus was barely of legal age, and still had family to think about. It was why simply upping and leaving for him was difficult.

She sank in her seat, unable to do much other than actually just sit there. Her hands supported either side of her, holding onto the work bench. “Just so you know, the offer will stand. I’m not taking it off the table.” She wasn’t in that much of a rush to leave anyway, not without having thought it through. “So when you’ve decided you’re ready, you let me know, okay? Hopefully it won’t take long.”

Cyrus picked at the skin around his fingernails absently, staring down at them for a moment before speaking again. “You . . . don’t have to wait for me,” he said softly. “I mean, if you really want to go, you should go.” He didn’t want her to leave him behind, but he also didn’t want to be the thing holding her back, pretty sure she’d grow impatient and start to resent him after a while if he took longer than she wanted to wait.

#eva

salvagingsloan:

“First of all, cut that shit out. People are gonna think I’m a slave driver if you act like I’m forcing you to work with a broken arm.” He was earnest, but he’d still destroyed one of the only material possessions that Sloan held dear. As much as she might’ve wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, there was still a part of her that wondered if his sweet and innocent bit was nothing more than that – - a facade. He’d explained what was wrong with him and why he behaved the way he did, but it didn’t do much to quell Sloan’s suspicion. Perhaps that’s why she had him sweeping floors and cleaning oil slicks instead of doing clerical duties for his first few weeks on the job. Cyrus was a hard worker, but there was an ever-present fear that he would either lash out or lose his shit for whatever reason. Putting him to work on menial tasks had been easy, but the arm… Well, that wasn’t something Sloan had considered when she demanded he pay his dues.

“I’m not gonna make you sweep floors with a broken arm,” she gestured to the ground between them, “and it’s not like you’re doing much good taking extra time to sweep. I need the space.” But she could appreciate his work ethic – - actually, it may have been one of the only things keeping her from telling him to pull extra hours at the diner and pay her repair costs with his tips. “I was thinking you could stock the shelves in the storefront and take calls for me. I hate doing that shit anyway, and it’s not like it’s hard to put appointments in a computer. Think you can handle that with one hand? You’ll have to learn how to take inventory, but it’s not like I’m running a goddamn franchise here.”

Cyrus bit his lip, pulling out some food from the bag to eat, as he listened to her. She was right, of course. He couldn’t do much with a broken arm, and sweeping up was taking him much longer than it should each time he did it. Still, he was doing his best, so he really hoped she wasn’t about to “fire” him. Luckily, she came at him with a different idea. Stocking shelves and answering phones and taking inventory. He knew it wouldn’t be as simple as it sounded, especially since he was an anxious mess who he doubted would be very good on the phone. But it was either that or work more at the diner and take forever and a day to pay off the car he’d ruined.

“I think so,” he answered her with a nod, swallowing down the food in his mouth. “I mean, I-I’ll do my best.” He glanced down at the cast around his wrist. “It might be a little hard stocking shelves with one hand, but I bet I could still do it.”

#sloan

atreus-trower:

Atreus perked up when Cyrus mentioned motorcycle tires, having no clue how different they could be from bicycle tires.

“Really?” He asked happily. “Can you show me where they are? Are they for sale?” He paused, finally seeming to recognize Cyrus’ confusion. “Do you work here?”

“Um, not . . . really,” Cyrus admitted with a slight grimace. “I sorta owe Ms. Martin a debt, and I’m paying it off by helping her out, but I ain’t like . . . an official employee or anything.” He shook his head. “I have no idea if she sells tires. I mean, I think she does? But . . .” He shrugged. “Sorry. You might have to come back when she’s here to ask her.”

#atreus

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