Shatter || Rossian

“Then what is it about?”

Shit.

Why did it feel like it was only getting worse? It was hard to ignore the desperation in Rosie’s voice. It told him that his explanation hadn’t been enough. Telling her that he was still in it for the long haul and that he’d do it all again wasn’t enough if she couldn’t understand the impulse that had driven him from their apartment that night and had him taking her along with him.

But how did he explain? How did Cassian tell her that the cravings he’d had while they were safely at home had followed them on the road and that, for all his trying to be better he was still the same? He’d tried to put it behind him, thinking that he couldn’t afford for it to be him anymore. Once they ran, he became a husband and a protector. That didn’t leave room for the vices that once soothed his nerves whenever they started to fry.

That didn’t prevent them from frying, it just prevented them from being soothed when they did. What they had should’ve been enough. He should’ve been able to walk into this new life changed.

They had a baby on the way, one that didn’t need a father whose insides went haywire without the stimulation they’d become accustomed to. Cass didn’t want his son or daughter ever finding his stuff or realising how weak their father was.

But…he was weak, wasn’t it?

That much was clear as the dark silhouettes of the trees loomed along the walkway. He was letting her down in real time.

“No. You don’t get to do that. Not anymore.”

He didn’t.

Cassian took another deep breath as he sank back onto the bench next to her. It was the unravelling of the century, all his old comforts creeping back in when his mind no longer knew how to regulate itself. It was a wonder he wasn’t pawing at her clothing but his shame kept him firmly in check there at least. Cass didn’t know what all he’d expected, outside of some minor relief but being held hostage on the bench wasn’t it.

He shouldn’t have said anything. Now he had his wife threatening to spend the night out there if he couldn’t give an answer that was satisfying enough and at this point, only the truth might do.

Brilliant.

So what was it about, if not him being fed up with where his life was?

“It’s not…” he paused, not sure where to really go with his explanation. “I love you, more than anything else or anyone else. That hasn’t changed. I’d have suggested we go home if it had. I wouldn’t be…I wouldn’t keep showing up for my shifts and panicking so much about NEWTs to get us a better life where we aren’t constantly scraping if I really thought any of this was a mistake that needed correcting.”

His marriage to Rosie wasn’t a mistake. It was one of the happiest days of his life.

That didn’t mean there wasn’t pressure and that his nervous system didn’t have familiar pathways it liked to travel when shit got heavy. He’d been at it since he was, what, 11? Never properly addressed, only suppressed under the guise that love should be enough.

For a while, it felt true. When they’d run, Cassian had been filled with all sorts of happy hormones that kept his brain wired. He didn’t stop loving her, but the hormones stopped being enough.

“I can love you and still be having a hard time. It’s not about you.” Cass shuffled uncomfortable, wishing he’d let her stay in bed after all. This wasn’t what she needed to hear but having her think of some alternative would be worse. “It’s the high, I guess. It’s all chemicals and shit; stuff I don’t think ever went away. I just…really miss the way it took the edge off and made me feel invincible.”

Not like this, not like some tiny, insignificant cog in some massive machine whose existence was so negligible as to not matter. Not scared. Not constantly worried and unable to protect his wife. Truly untouchable.

He didn’t want to be in his right mind. His right mind thought too much and was bogged down with so much worry that it made his head spin.

“I’ve been telling myself I don’t need it…and that…I can find other things that make me feel the same but…”

Obviously that hadn’t worked.

Her back stiffened as she stared at him, waiting for him to decide if he'd sit or walk away. Watching Cassian shut down in real time was something she'd witnessed time and again, and for awhile she'd tolerated it, believing it was best to let him keep what he wanted to himself. They'd fought about it - countless times now - and at some point, shortly after Julia had that final talk with them, she'd decided it wasn't worth trying to push him when it came down to it.

After his overdose, Rosalie had insisted it wouldn't work that way anymore. He'd promised her by that lake that things would change, that he would try harder, and then in the RoR he'd promised it again. When she'd broken down crying by the lake, he'd apologized for putting her through the horror of finding out about his problem the way she had and then having to grapple with the idea he'd almost killed himself.

He'd seen what using had done to his family, what it had done to her, but most importantly, what it had done to him. Rosie knew she didn't understand the pull his potions had on him. She didn't understand addiction. All she understood was that it hurt him, and she couldn't wrap her head around why something that hurt him was also something he wanted.

Rosalie had never viewed Cassian as weak. Despite the struggles he'd had and the way he'd sometimes managed the strife between them, she'd never once seen him as anything but strong and resilient.

His struggles didn't make him weak. They made him sick, from everything Benji had explained to her. If Cassian wanted to use, he wouldn't have pulled her out of bed and tried to find solace in telling her. He would have just gone and done it, regardless of the consequences.

She let out a soft breath of relief when he sat back down, and she turned slightly to face him, but kept a short distance between the two of them. As much as she wanted to hold him and reassure him that everything would be fine, she didn't feel like it was an honest thing to do.

She was confused. Uncertain. And terrified for him.

“It’s not…”

It's not what? Not that serious? Not something he wanted to talk about after all? Not something he wanted to concern her with? It was too late for all of that. He'd said before he didn't like sharing his problems with her because she behaved 'too fragile' or fell apart too easily. She knew if she wanted Cassian to share openly, she'd have to shove her emotions and feelings down as best as she could and pull for stoicism.

Maybe it wasn't fair, but it was what it was, and she knew how to do it.

“I love you, more than anything else or anyone else. That hasn’t changed. I’d have suggested we go home if it had. I wouldn’t be…I wouldn’t keep showing up for my shifts and panicking so much about NEWTs to get us a better life where we aren’t constantly scraping if I really thought any of this was a mistake that needed correcting.”

She didn't respond, deciding to remain quiet until he'd said everything he needed to. She didn't want to risk saying the wrong thing and having him scramble to his feet again. In many ways, Cassian was skittish like that, and she didn't have the energy to chase him all over the park. The next time he got up to leave, she'd let him.

His words fell heavy on her, and while maybe they were things she assumed or knew on some level, they didn't make her feel any better. Instead, they opened up new worries. He was panicking about NEWTs because this life they had wasn't good enough. Rosie knew they were struggling, but it wasn't something she was panicked over, because for the first time in her life, she felt genuinely happy. She was free. She didn't have a dark uncertain future looming over her, or dangerous men waiting in the shadows to use her as a chess piece. Her life, her heart, her body was her own.

It didn't matter what their apartment looked like, or how much money they had, or the types of jobs they had.

But it wasn't good enough for Cassian.

“I can love you and still be having a hard time. It’s not about you.”

"I didn't mean to make it about me." Her words were quiet and careful, "I know you love me. But you can also love me and want something different." He said he wanted this, and that should be enough for her, but as Rosie had learned over the years, Cassian's words didn't always line up with what he was actually feeling or doing.

And it was then that a cold truth hit her in the chest. She realized...she didn't trust him.

She hadn't even realized it over the past year and half since his overdose...maybe longer? When had she stopped trusting him? She swallowed hard, dropping her eyes from him as the realization gripped her in a way that kept her from saying anything else.

“It’s the high, I guess. It’s all chemicals and shit; stuff I don’t think ever went away. I just…really miss the way it took the edge off and made me feel invincible.”

There it was. What she couldn't give him or make him feel.

She could be his best friend. She could be his lover, his confidant, his soft place to land. She could be the mother of his child. But she couldn't be everything for him. He couldn't be everything for her.

Her hand instinctively found her stomach as she let her mind carry her through all the emotions she refused to show.

“I’ve been telling myself I don’t need it…and that…I can find other things that make me feel the same but…”

But he couldn't. As much as Rosie didn't want to take this personal, it was hard. It hurt. Here she was, working every day, just like he was, taking care of their home and preparing herself to be a mother - at only seventeen. She was still a kid, just like he was. She didn't have her mother either. Cassian didn't have Freddie, and she didn't have Eira.

She would need him to step up and be the father their baby deserved. She couldn't do it alone.

Could she? If he fell into the throes of all of this again and became a shell of himself? What would she do then? Once their baby arrived, it would be her job to protect them. If Cassian was a danger to himself - or to them - that meant she'd have to protect their child from him too.

She'd be a shit mother if she didn't.

"Fuck," she whispered, her eyes finally finding the dark scape of the park. She'd promised him she wouldn't run from any of this, but things were different now that she was having a baby, wasn't it? Her lips parted a few times as she searched for the words that would move this conversation along, coming up woefully short.

Pain. Guilt. Fear. It was a never-ending cycle with them now. As soon as she finally started feeling happy and content again, it started all over. She felt her heart breaking for him in real time, and all she wanted to do was pull Cassian from the depths of his own self-destruction but she couldn't.

She knew she couldn't.

"What if..." she couldn't believe what she was about to say, but she didn't know what else to do. Cassian was falling fast, spiraling and getting to the point he felt he couldn't control himself. What if it was just a little? Just enough to take the edge off but still functioning? Not enough to get him sick or hurt himself but...did it work like that?

She didn't know. She didn't fucking know anything.

Tears welled in her eyes, feeling like their entire world was caving in on them. Everything good they had, everything stable and sure, was dancing away in the wind like a scrap of paper. There was love, but love wasn't enough to outshine the thick black that had settled over them.

She sighed, shaking her head. What a fucking mess they had made of everything. How stupid had she been to believe they could do this? All the adults in their life had been right.

"I don't know. I know you're stronger than this. Better than this. I told you we'd keep trying." She finally said, shrugging. "I don't want you to do it. It scares me, but it sounds like you know you're going to anyway." He said he really missed it. He missed the feeling of invincibility. The show of it. The illusion.

Not the reality. Reality was where she was, where their baby was. Where their life was.

Cassian wanted to be that man that stood in front of the curtain, not behind it.

She finally turned her gaze back to him as she fought to keep her composure. "Just...do it in front of me if you have to do it. So I know how much and...so I know you won't overdose."

Cassian couldn't have felt smaller if someone had cut him in half.

What a mess he'd made of the night, and now the consequences had found him without him ever managing to have so much as a single drop. Would it have been better to say nothing at all? He couldn't say. Rosie knew where before she didn't. There was a risk she'd clock the change, subtle as they tended to be, for the simple fact that he'd already managed to overdose once, and it was enough to make sure she never forgot or stopped watching.

For him to suddenly start walking around, peachy-keen, like everything was roses would've been the biggest tip-off. Cass would feel on top of the world and would have a new spring in his step, but there was nothing that would warrant such a shift. She'd be side-eyeing him so hard that he'd be able to feel it boring into the back of his head. In a sober enough state, he'd feel it.

The boy also knew that he wasn't trying to have her 'find out'. There had been plenty of little secrets – ones he'd thought were harmless and insignificant to the bigger part of what they had. Rosie always minded. This? This thing he specifically promised to tell her about, if and when it ever happened again? Cassian couldn't begin to imagine the look of betrayal that would etch itself into her expression if his actions, rather than his own words, gave him away. It would hurt her in a different way, one he knew would be irreparable.

They'd promised honesty – for him, more than for her. He was the one with all the secrets, the one who kept falling into things he shouldn't, the one who kept fucking up no matter how hard he tried.

Without fail, sooner or later, he always crumbled.

"I didn't mean to make it about me."

"I didn't...that's not what I meant, Rosie." Of course, he wasn't accusing her of making his struggle about her. The boy had only been trying to absolve her of any guilt she'd tried to take on. He didn't want her blaming herself for his problems, as he knew she was prone to doing.

"I know you love me. But you can also love me and want something different."

"I don't want something different." He sighed deeply. "I mean...I guess I do." How else would he explain his discontent when he was just insisting that it had nothing to do with her? "But not different if it's without you. I want something different for us. Together. I don't want you working because we'll starve. My wife's meant to work because she wants to and enjoys it; otherwise, you were gonna stay home and enjoy your days. Chat with the neighbours, take walks through the market. I don't know. Whatever the fuck would've made you feel loved and taken care of. Not...not...this."

He leaned forward, trying to catch her gaze.

"Can you understand that, gorgeous?" Could she?

"I'm not unhappy because I think we ruined our lives. Staying would've done that. Lying down and letting our parents decide our futures would've. Seeing you sent off to whoever bid the highest, gone forever, would've done that. Look, I knew it wasn't going to be easy and that we'd have to struggle, but I don't...I can't be content with it. Not when I know you deserve so much more and when I want to give you so much more. It's not that I think you're hard to care for or too demanding. You've..." He dragged his hand along his face, really trying to get his words right so it wouldn't spiral into something else.

"You've never asked me for anything, but I need you to hear me. Just because you didn't ask doesn't mean I don't think you should have it. So yeah, it bothers me when our bills go higher than what we make. It bothers me seeing your eyes light up before realising we can't afford something and then responsibly saying we don't need it. Fuck need. Fuck this whole system that just gets harder every time we move. I am fed up, but not because of you."

If anything, he was fed up with himself and his inability to do better—to be better.

He'd left England a boy and remained one. Even this, dragging her out there at night because his cravings had finally become 'too much'.

Shit.

He turned at her 'what if', his heart breaking at the tears he found. Shit. Why did he keep hurting her? He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't. The only viable option seemed to have been never having those cravings in the first place, but it was a few years too late for that. It was already inside him; the boy had already had a taste, and as much as he liked to pretend otherwise, in some ways, he was hooked.

"I don't know. I know you're stronger than this. Better than this. I told you we'd keep trying."

He wasn't better. He was falling again.

"I don't want you to do it. It scares me, but it sounds like you know you're going to anyway."

Where...was she going with this...?

"Just...do it in front of me if you have to do it. So I know how much...so I know you won't overdose."

"Rosie." He couldn't. In front of her? The source of his shame? Watching him succumb to weakness? His stomach churned. "I'm not trying to get some free pass." And didn't think his throat would open with her sitting across from him.

It was the most he’d ever explained of himself, and she listened attentively, trying to give him the space to say what he needed to, and trying to truly understand where he was. It was as she suspected. Where Rosie was content, Cassian wasn’t.

He wanted to provide for her, to give her his standard of what a great life looked like. It didn’t matter that she was already content or that she didn’t want anything lavish. It was what he wanted.

"Can you understand that, gorgeous?"

“Of course I can,” she answered, keeping her voice steady despite the lump that was forming in her throat. Rosalie understood well the call Cassian felt to be the man he thought he should be. “I know you want to give me the world, Cass. You’ve always dreamed bigger than the world that held you.” When he leaned forward, she took the opportunity to cup his face and make him look at her.

“I understand what you want for me, love. I know it eats you up inside. But I need you to understand that all I want, all I need is you.” Material things were nice. Sure, it would have been great if all their bills were easily paid in full every month.

Someday, she knew they’d get there. “These things don’t happen overnight. They take time and hard work,” she said, “but we can’t get there together if you’re self-sabotaging.” They’d had this talk before, or one similar to it. Cassian had the unique talent of standing in his own way.

She was at a loss. Multiple times she’d told him that all she wanted was him. When would he believe her? When would he realize that insisting that she needed all these things was only driving him insane and them further apart? When it was too late? When he was deep in the trenches of addiction, having beat himself up so thoroughly that he no longer saw any worth in himself?

“You’re so hard on yourself,” she said, dropping her hands from his face and sitting back with resignation against the bench. “You don’t realize how amazing you are. You don’t see yourself the way I do. The way Freddie and Benji and all your friends do. You’re special, Cassian, in a way so few people are and…”

The tears she’d worked so hard to hold in threatened at the corners of her eyes. “…it’s never enough for you.”

"Rosie. I'm not trying to get some free pass."

“If you do it behind my back, we’re done.” She couldn’t play nice about it. She had to be firm and protect herself and her baby. She couldn’t have a husband that used drugs behind her back and risked his life every time he did it.

She loved Cassian more than anything in the world, but when their baby came, she had to be a mother first.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she managed to get out as her voice broke, and the tears finally slid down her cheeks. “I don’t want to have to tell our baby about you. I want him to know you.”

“I know you want to give me the world, Cass. You’ve always dreamed bigger than the world that held you.”

That was the crux of the matter, wasn't it? Cassian had always been one to aim for the stars. Bigger was better, lavish was meagre, dazzling and show-stopping was only an appetiser. It was the theatre kid in him, the one who had painted sets and watched the real magic come to life when the lights hit just right. The roar of the crowd. The sparkles. He'd never been in a small production, not even when he was only getting small roles. The boy had always been part of something much bigger than himself and had always marvelled at the wonder it managed to provoke in him.

He liked the sense of grandeur and the feeling of being larger than life. It was why he'd always been so liberal with his compliments, always going bigger and more impressive each time.

Small was hard.

Small was how you got replaced and forgotten. It was a lesson etched into his nervous system, and those were the hardest to unlearn. Rosie said she understood and that she knew he wanted to give her the world, but he didn't think she knew how deep the impulse ran or how difficult it was to override.

For every second that he wasn't adding tangible magic to her life, the boy considered himself little more than a failure. Of course, he was relieved to know that she only wanted him and that she thought he was enough, but he didn't. Cassian had never thought himself enough for anyone, and his wife's words, endearing as they were, weren't enough to shake such a foundational belief. It was something he would need to work out for himself.

“These things don’t happen overnight. They take time and hard work, but we can’t get there together if you’re self-sabotaging.”

"I know," he agreed miserably. "That's why I've been trying so hard. I keep thinking eventually something will work. I think...if we do well enough on the NEWTs, things could start looking up, but then I start thinking...what happens if I don't? If I fuck it up. If none of the answers is right or they ask a spell I can't remember." The pressure came from the stakes attached. The exams weren't just another test. They were a gate that could lock them out of a better future.

How did he not lose his mind under such circumstances?

"I can't let you down," he continued quietly, feeling the weight of the words trying to pull him down again.

“You’re so hard on yourself. You don’t realize how amazing you are. You don’t see yourself the way I do. The way Freddie and Benji and all your friends do. You’re special, Cassian, in a way so few people are and…”

She wasn't wrong. Long before directors had begun to criticise him, Cass was there doing it himself. Things others might have excused were practically cardinal sins for the boy who'd never managed to impress himself. He was his toughest critic, tougher than even his father.

He dropped his gaze, unable to meet hers even while she held his face in her hands.

"I wasn't trying to go behind your back." It was the whole point of taking her for the walk, but the results couldn't have been further from what he expected if he'd done something else entirely.

"Shit..." he breathed. "This is such a fucking mess." He didn't want his kid hearing about him either. Cassian wanted to be there. He wanted to give his kid so much and be the sort of father he wished he'd had. Just the thought left him feeling guilty. After coming into the real world, he could finally see that his father must have been trying. He was trying now without feeling like he was having any success.

"I'm sorry. I'll keep trying, I will."

Somehow, some way, he'd had to figure it out.

With every moment that passed, with every word exchanged between them, Rosalie was feeling more and more out of her depth and less like the woman she was trying so hard to be. From the moment she'd received that owl from Freddie, Rosie's idealism and sense of innocent optimism had evaporated into nothing. The words that had fallen from Benji's lips had cast a deep shadow across what had always felt like sunlight, and for the first time in her life Rosalie had to reconcile that even the people who loved her the most could hurt and deceive her.

There had still been moments - their wedding day and the month prior to it - where everything had still felt magical and infinite in possibility. When the girl who dreamed of a bigger, liberated world allowed herself to bask in the whimsy and hope of love conquering all.

That was the problem with romantics wasn't it? It didn't matter that they knew better, or had even experienced otherwise. They chose to believe when the smallest flicker of promise ignited before their eyes.

And now it was burning them, with one lick of the flame after another.

"I know. That's why I've been trying so hard. I keep thinking eventually something will work. I think...if we do well enough on the NEWTs, things could start looking up, but then I start thinking...what happens if I don't? If I fuck it up. If none of the answers is right or they ask a spell I can't remember."

He had been trying hard. So hard. Cassian had worked tirelessly in his studies and shifts in the hopes of more. But he couldn't appreciate what all that hard work had already accomplished. Where Cassian saw failure, Rosalie saw the wins. Where he beat himself up, she saw a man - not a boy - that had stepped up without complaint and took on the role of the husband she needed.

Perhaps she hadn't done a good enough job being the wife he needed, reminding him every day of how proud she was of him, and how much she appreciated all that he did. She'd thought her little acts of service - caring for him in the way she felt a wife should - would speak all the words for her, but maybe she had failed in that aspect.

Who knew, at this point.

"You won't mess it up. You've always passed your exams with flying colors." Both of them had. They were excellent students, even if Cass didn't always show up to his classes when he should. "And even if you do," she shrugged a little, "so what? Neither of us is aiming for the Ministry. We're not reaching to be barristers or politicians or...presidents of some huge company."

He understood that right?

"NEWTs will help us get better jobs for now but...I don't want you to stop chasing the theatre. I don't want you to settle into some paper-pushing life because you think its what I deserve. I deserve a husband who's happy and fulfilled and wants to be with me and our family. Not chasing after highs that aren't real and only make him feel worse about himself."

"I can't let you down."

"Then don't," she pleaded softly, wiping at the tears on her face. They had both let each other down before - multiple times - but this felt more urgent than all the others. "And I don't mean with NEWTs. I mean as my husband. I love you, but my heart..." she fought for a breath as her throat squeezed in on itself, making her struggle for her words, "...it can't take much more, Cass. I'll help you in any way I can. You know I will."

She stopped, pulling herself back. She was getting too emotional, and Cassian never handled it well when she fell apart. He was already in a bad place and she didn't need to make it worse.

"Shit...This is such a fucking mess. I'm sorry. I'll keep trying, I will."

He had to. They both had to. What choice did they have now?

Rosie ran a hand through her hair, pushing away the few strands that stuck to the moisture on her cheeks. On their wedding night when she had laid beside him and told him it was the happiest she'd ever felt in her life, she'd never imagined that just a few months later, they'd be here.

She felt shattered, broken and hopeless in a way she had never felt before. When she'd gone to bed, her future had felt bright and exciting, and despite all they had gone through, she hadn't regretted any of it. She was looking forward to their baby and everything that was to come over the next several months.

Now, their future felt bleak and uncertain and all Rosie could focus on was that night in the orchard, when she'd been foolish and naïve. She'd taken him from his family and friends, settled him into a life he hated and now they had a baby on the way.

Julia had told her to let him go and let him be.

She fiddled with the ring on her finger. "I don't know what else to say."