damned_institute | Day 61: Recreation Field (Shift 2)

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Day 61: Recreation Field (Shift 2)

Loki wasn't entirely thrilled about returning to the recreation field, though he supposed it would be nicer during the day. And without the annoying presence of Riku. Some fresh air would likely do him good; that was what Sif and Thor had always claimed right before they dragged him out of the library.

He wasn't entirely certain if that was a pleasant thought or not. It was still far too mixed up and painful.

He was allowed to go back to his room and pull out every bit of warm clothing he had, bundling up as much as he could. As he followed the nurse out into the field, he also wondered if this meant he would miss out on the greenhouse, since he'd arranged to meet Soma after lunch. That had priority, of course, but he did find plants interesting. At least it was good to know there were activities they were forced to participate in during the day that weren't as horrifically painful as, say, what the music room would indicate.

Good to know that as prisons went, it wasn't all just torture, torture, torture. Some variation was good for the mind.

He wandered along the crunchy, dead grass, for now steering clear of the few other patients. The air felt much better during the day, smelled much better to him as well as he sniffed at it. even if it was cold enough to make his nose hurt. It reminded him uncomfortably of Jotunheim, and...

But at least here, there was sunlight. He wasn't trapped in that dark place as sometimes was in his nightmares.

Loki stopped about halfway down the field, tilting his head back to take in the thin sunlight, his eyes slipping shut.

[Here, angel angel angel... :D Castiel!]

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Staring was but a prelude, and Albedo had already steeled himself to falling back into a sort of distance. Expecting more was--

Albedo was struck dumb at the gesture. It took a full moment for his synapses to fire again, for him to realize in full that his little brother was clinging to him. Had answered with this to Albedo's question. And he could only stand there, uncomprehending, as his heart shook within his chest. His casual nonchalance fled; emotions lay bare as he felt, for the first time in a long while, like he would cry. He exhaled shakily, then, at first carefully, then with desperation, wrapped his arms around his brother. Pressed his face into Nigredo's neck and inhaled, tension slipping from him. "...I underestimated you," he murmured into skin. "I'm sorry."

It wouldn't happen again. The last vestiges of wariness fled in the fact of this gesture. Albedo pulled them closer, tightening his hold, and breathed. Took in the fact of Nigredo this close to him in the way of gladness. Yes, he was glad. He was glad he was wrong.

Depreciation and deficiency in foresight seemed to be a common theme with them. Nigredo, however, did not mind. They were bound to make mistakes, slip up and fall with the best of them. "It's okay," he said and smiled without meaning to. The emotions were felt and taken, and Nigredo concluded that it was okay. His choice had been correct.

The contrast of coldness and warmth caused the child to shiver, reminding him of last night's events. Of the things he had to say. His cheeks tinged pink in the upcoming topic, but Nigredo kept his hold. "Albedo," he started, "yesterday..." He inhaled quietly. "Don't worry about what I said last, okay? It didn't come off the way I intended."

And his brother still didn't back away. Albedo angled, tilting them so he could see the field, an instinctual protective gesture, as Nigredo spoke. Said something that made Albedo instantly roll his eyes. "Shut up," said with no heat. "You had already explained that, didn't you? That one afternoon."

When Albedo had helped him in the showers, and went on to reveal himself in a sharing unchecked. Went on to make a mess of things by admitting his drug usage, and then learning a point placed by a girl. Nigredo had already said that, and Albedo had accepted it then. Because it had been clear.

"Just answer me. And this will be the last time I ask you." It went unsaid in that, that Albedo would believe whatever Nigredo said next, even if it was a lie. Because here he was laying down trust. "Living for me is the only want you can have," he quoted, in the correct order more or less. "Is that because I'm all that's here, or is it something else? I won't reject you either way, so."

So. The boy looked down, losing momentum. "...Please tell me."

The smile stretched in increments, slow and knowing despite the connotations present. Nigredo graced well, better in some respects. Hearing that response brought a sense of relief, and somehow, the boy could breathe easier. Albedo remembered the afternoon, the long stretch of confessions and a weight comprised of weary children. Nigredo could take comfort in another's recollection.

Thoughts came clean, lacking jagged shards. He was glad for the capacity to form in spoken word; his head hurt too much presently for the link. "Yeah," he said. "I did." Had given and received more from this source in that moment than in the past twelve years combined.

And it would come to a crux here as Albedo asked. Wished to know the source of his offering of self, the why in living for another. The younger canted his head, face turned to catch the other's eyes as he spoke. It struck him, then, that Albedo might have been as insecure in the reasons as Nigredo had been in formulating the final say.

One might have expected hesitance in his response, but the variant was immediate. He repeated a concept first touched upon in that same sunlit room, a thought formed but left unsaid. "Because you are everything to me," Nigredo stated quietly. "You are what I chose." And the choice was worth giving himself entirely. From the beginning, you were what I wanted.

Therefore, he would live.

Here laid silence, dark and deep. In a place where the bonds of sanity and its lacking could not touch. Where the aspects of taint and weaponry diminished, until there was only what had been and was. Underneath the excuses of hatred and pain-driven anger, there had never been anything else. He would deny it, go on denying it, but from the beginning-- From the very start, Albedo had loved his brothers, and lacked the intent to kill them. From that time, from that singular change, even as his wanting held to that, their deaths or torture, their punishment--he couldn't see it, not clearly. Couldn't imagine broken bodies and red against his skin. For it was as his dream revealed clearly-- That, all of that, was a last ditch effort of a hopeless cause, an excuse for a move made opposite. He was the one that wanted to die; he would push and press them, attack and antagonize, until he got that end result. Until Rubedo killed him. Until his twin finished what his little brother had mistakenly started.

Because that was what he wanted. Albedo, above all, wanted to die. This was the underlying meaning behind every act and word. And once understood, his motivations were not wholly as complicated as he liked to think.

And here. Here.

Because you are everything to me. Because he understood, more than he could have previously. His wants revolved around his own death and his siblings' life, and if he moved for one the other would vanish. If he kept his goal of his own demise, he would take Nigredo with him. A pretty thought, poetic and romantic both, but fiercely unwanted. His existence, laughable as it remained, was what allowed for Nigredo's life. Not from chance, but by choice-- You are what I chose. --and there were the facts, laid out and clear. Albedo could not die while Nigredo remained.

Should he continue? It wasn't even like that at all. Albedo had admitted himself that his own wants were now to remain. To see both grow and age, and remain together. Along the way, somehow, his original desire had slid backwards. It kept and held--he could look at it now and it would still be the same. He could but consider the fact that one day both Rubedo and Nigredo would be gone and break simply easily, but here was what had changed--

Albedo could die. Possibly and probably. In this place, in this setting, under these limitations, a fatality done correctly would be just that. A brush against death in a way Executioner's kiss had never gave him, even like that. Albedo, given the reason to, could enjoy life, because when that reason was gone, he could end it. In a way never allowed before. In ways tried countless times before. His life could cease. And herein lay the greatest comfort. He could die. Whenever he wished. All he would have to do was act.

And that freedom made him not need to. That reassurance made taking in Nigredo's words all the more important. The blooming in his chest made him move a hand to his brother's cheek and press his lips to Nigredo's, with more surety than had existed before. The emotion pressed between, possession and affection rolled together in a tight declaration of-- {Mine.} Something that had no chance of being accepted before, no chance of being said before, an awkward, childish statement that now suited, and Albedo--

He loved his brother. He would never say anything differently.

It came as practiced, this patience, the wait with bated breath for a response that may never arrive. But this was Albedo, after all, and reactions were commonplace. A statement, a declaration, an acknowledgement of such magnitude would not be set aside for etiquette; Nigredo would know whether his want would meet the mark. And it was near foreign the amount of faith he currently held, for knowing without doubt that the words would be held. They would be believed, and Nigredo was surprised at his own belief.

Even as he understood in the shadows of his mind. How everything could shatter in a single reveal.

He wouldn't think on that here.

Like clockwork, Albedo touched him. With more energy than was likely necessary, the elder pressed their lips together, bringing emotions to a head and a single element to force its path between them. Mine. Was it? It could be called a first, but Nigredo remembered. He recalled what he had confessed. "If I'm worth living to you as I am, you have every right to take what I have." Including himself. That was enough for him.

So he agreed, as he likely wouldn't have in another life, with something spontaneous and far too much like a vow. {Yours.}

No tension was noted in form, no hesitation was apparent. Brother gave him a reply, an agreement in nature, and he could only take it. Only accept it wholeheartedly and keep it within his chest. Nigredo was his. Because Albedo was what his brother chose. Because Albedo wanted Nigredo as he was.

He broke away, pulling back to lean his head against his brother's. "Listen," he said firmly. "I don't intend to die." Not with things as they were. Not in this scenario. He wasn't going to actively try for his death. He had, as Nigredo had said that afternoon, a bit too much to live for. "But where do you stand, Nigredo? Do you still want to die despite our agreement? Does it reside in your heart ready to influence at a moment?"

His hands moved to lock onto Nigredo's upper arms. "I can't forgive you," he said clearly. "If there's a chance that you want to leave me like that. You have to tell me." Despite the near threat in the sentence, he had not doubt that here, at least, Nigredo would not lie to him. Would not continue methods as they were. Things had changed. Things were still changing.

The questions formed in a pull back and a slippery slope, and Nigredo fastened the loose frays of his mind, giving himself to contemplation. To an emotion called regret. It relieved him to hear his brother state his intentions outright, but the callback to his proved more complicated. Complicated, for reasons having little to do with resolution itself.

Nigredo glanced to the side, to an open area in the field where sunlight seemed the brightest. "I thought you wouldn't," he said, voice soft. "I figured that would be reprehensible." One could not wish to die and skirt around the consequences. One had to pay, especially for a desire in death. "And I would have allowed it. Until last night--"

A pause. His hands tightened in their hold, a sudden need for contact. "There was a chance, until last night." He would have left at the nearest opportunity--considered the mounting losses in his life and quietly made his exit. But Albedo had to say it (the you that you are) and gave Nigredo his acceptance. "It's gone now."

His brother was a liar, hand and food and mouth, as much as Albedo was a manipulator of men, and Rubedo a leader of many (supposedly). Together, they made up the perfect set to bend others to their will, and when combined with their unnatural attributes, it only worsened. Was made more clear. And that is what sparked within Albedo's mien. A current, careful recollection drowned in fog. The dead have nothing to fear, and Albedo? Albedo was mired in them. Soaked to the bone and seeped in the thick murky mud of memory's residue. For truth and lies could switch at will, and as Albedo had said before-- Of Nigredo, he could create the ring of truth from the hollowness of lies.

But the fact that remained was only that Nigredo had not used his 'unnatural ability' on Albedo. Not here, and more often than not, not before. Nigredo had never tried to force Albedo into a movement or belief, and even when faced with his own demise, Nigredo had never raised a hand or mouth. Had never forced Albedo to believe something other than what was before him. And for that, for that withheld ability's existence, Albedo could believe his brother's words.

There had been a long silence of contemplation, and now Albedo sighed, exhaling once, before tightening his hold on Nigredo. "See that it stays gone," he said, something a degree gentler than a command. "I don't want to wake up to you gone one day." I want to keep you. But he had already said that, over and over, would say it again if needed, but there it was. Only what it was.

Stillness could spell the end of belief, the weight of doubt. Albedo, however, moved contrary and affirmed as if in resolution. Nigredo knew very well how unmatched he was when he stepped with truth, how uneven he walked in the strides between them. That his sibling would delay in answering was something expected, and truth be told, it bordered on a miraculous outcome. He knew, after all.

He frowned in weight as opposed to disagreement, eyes fixed on their surroundings. It registered that the pair had yet to remove themselves from each other's hold and that the nurses were throwing them strange looks, but for once, the boy felt nothing of self-consciousness. Watched them as if the others were the oddity in the picture. "I'm on it," he said quietly. "I won't disappear like that."

A reply soldier-made, and his brother, albeit quiet, responded plainly. Clearly. And it was like that, then. In the way considered with derision last night, it happened just like that. Something slid into place, a mental flow unblocked, a wall built and taken down. “You understand, then…” he said first without context. When he went on, it seemed the unfinished sentence was forgotten.

“If you won’t, then you’re forgiven. You don’t have to do anything for me to gain it. Just never say it again. Ever.” That Nigredo wanted to die. That he wanted to disappear. That it’d be easier if he were gone. “You don’t want to die. I believe you.” A beat held out, an irony acknowledged. Less for the fact of the opposite sentiment, and more for the low likelihood of this situation. Of Albedo’s next words. “I have faith that you’ll stay.”

A quiet thrum passed, and Albedo wondered at it, wondered what was the cause until he realized, almost idly that he was shaking, and severely. Oh. This was-- “You understand, then?” he repeated, and there was more desperation in the words. “You understand that you can’t leave, you can’t--”

If Nigredo left now, anything that remained of Albedo’s self would be consumed. He had tried, repeatedly, to love what would not stay, and he had shattered time and again for it. This was the last time he could sustain himself. If Nigredo broke away, Albedo would not be able to repeat the attempt with any other. His mind, as noted two nights ago, a day ago, was far too delicate for anything else. He was still shaking. He wondered when he would stop. “You have to stay with me.”

The fine shards of Nigredo's attention narrowed on his brother the instant acknowledgement was given. For a moment, he wondered on rationalizations, the willingness of this one to place forgiveness without time and a need fulfilled. It was not wise to question mercy, perhaps, but Nigredo would hold to the thought once more: the willingness to abandon was a great sin in their eyes, second to abandonment itself. And Albedo would present absolution on the condition of a vow only.

Still. "Alright," he murmured, even as he didn't quite understand.

Comprehension came in the form of a body shaking, a brother in the throes of reactions and a wordless sentiment. Here, it seemed to make sense. He could see--near detail--how much the placement of faith was costing Albedo. How much, in truth, he needed Nigredo. The younger knew well, perhaps as much as the other, that the consequence of betrayal would result in more than just his own death; he would, in fact, affect another's life as well.

His answer did not change. It would not change no matter what passed between them at this moment. But Nigredo deemed himself more resolute, calmer in the face of his choices. The variant squeezed a shoulder with one hand, the other sliding through white hair in intervals. "I will not betray you. I won't leave." Even at the threat of rejection, Nigredo would keep himself. "I want to stay beside you, Albedo."

Betrayal and abandonment. Nigredo spoke of both in the span of a breath. If not for the hands on him, the firm grip and gentle motions, Albedo might have broke at the words. As it was, there still existed that weakness. That all-consuming pain. He swallowed audibly, and exhaled on a high-pitched laugh, full of nerves. One could promise the world, but in the end--

But that wasn't right. It wasn't right, because Nigredo... Albedo had said it, Nigredo had said it that day, it was only that.... Nigredo was not Rubedo. Nigredo wanted to stay. He wouldn't leave.

Albedo blinked as if startled, mouth opening in a little 'o' of surprise before his skin flushed. Instead of responding, the boy laid his head against his brother's shoulder, breathing softly against skin. Nigredo's words echoed and held, and Albedo gave into those sensations. "...What else do you want?" the boy finally asked. "I'll give you what you desire." Not for a trade or a balance, but for the pure and simple fact that Albedo wished for Nigredo to be content. Something like happy. He wasn't sure if either of them could be, in full, but the possibility laid bare, and Albedo.... Albedo wanted to be the one who made his brother happy.

Laughter in that pitch from this source hinted at misgivings. Nigredo froze, muscles steeling on instinct. A part still waited for rejection, the absence of belief; he would remind himself faith was not an easy aspect to gain. They had perhaps lost that chance, and in the end, they were merely fooling themselves.

No rejection came, however. All that arose was a question, mirrored in need, more complicated than he was willing to convey. Nigredo continued his motions and gave no answers for a minute, more out of surprise than deliberation. He hadn't known to expect it.

"I want a lot of things," he finally muttered in reluctance, as if the reiteration bordered on shameful. "You gave me some of them." Love and acceptance when he lacked entirely, even when both would prove temporary. Especially when he did not deserve them. Eased his mind with potentials when he had thought to reach an impasse with Rubedo or life. Albedo had been generous.

And Nigredo was suddenly crying. Without explanation. Tears lined the boy's eyelids as pressure built against the walls in his head. "That's enough, Albedo." More than enough. "I'm happy with what I have."

Albedo quieted under his brother's ministrations, and leaned into him, two colored opposites trying to fill spaces the other lacked. There was a hyper-awareness within him despite the apparent languidly of form. He was waiting. Waiting perfectly and precisely for his brother to speak. And when Nigredo did, Albedo had half-expected it. Was half-unsurprised, down to the awareness of tears.

He pressed a kiss to the skin in front of him, to the side of Nigredo's neck. "I want to give you more," came the murmur, near-gentle in its abstract understanding. "It's enough for now, but I'll give you more as time passes." The impression passed easily-- Is that all right? Was it all right to continue to have that want--to want to fill Nigredo until he forgot why he had wanted to die? Because that... That was exactly what Albedo wanted. Quietly and near shyly, with a firmness all the same, he wanted to make his brother forget his pain with Albedo's care.

One might have harbored a conflicted view. Another day, Nigredo would have passed the want as flawed. Another day, more would have rang as upsetting. The boy had subsisted on deficiency to never know the taste of complete loss, and an offering for more ruined that delicate equilibrium. It would kill him, if they broke. If Albedo left, rejected, called for his brother's existence as unwanted, unneeded--

Nigredo thought he might die. Tear apart his own promise so forcefully, in ways unimaginable for the youngest variant, that he would bleed out to expire. What Albedo proposed came as an ultimatum: to risk an end for something he would never otherwise obtain.

It was for that reason he found only certainty. For that reason alone, Nigredo whimpered quietly through the kiss and the tears without protest. It was wanted. To be loved in its entirety was more wanted than anything else, and for the entity that Nigredo now was, he could not turn it away. Yes. Please. He nodded against Albedo's hair, silent.

An acceptance. And, in turn, wanting. There was a relax in this, an acceptance of his own. For some reason, that made it all right. It made it enough. The small sounds given from Nigredo were ones that wouldn't be shared otherwise, but his brother was relaxed. Trusting. He understood, in parcel and part, that Albedo would not reprimand him for it. This, too, was something like relief. His hand moved up to touch Nigredo's hair, a light reassurance of care.

"Do you want to do something?" he wondered quietly. "We could, um." What could he suggest to a brother once estranged and now loved? "Play or something...." he finished lamely, nuzzling into Nigredo's skin. Something to prove that they could interact and not just break to come together. He was unsure, suddenly. If that was even wanted.

It occurred to him that he knew how to interact with Ritsuka in a casual manner probably better than Nigredo. A disarming thought.

There was a beat, an awkward pause, and then Nigredo reached with a stray hand to wipe at his eyes. He was past shame at this point to particularly care for his wounded pride. "I didn't really think past talking to you," he admitted. In an almost pitiful manner, he sniffled, clearing away both sinuses and the mind.

To scowl in sudden annoyance. The question brought to attention a duty unfulfilled. "And actually, I need to finish reading that journal I had last night. I wanted to return it to its owner yesterday." No bitterness toward Albedo, of course. Things just happened to fall in ways Nigredo should have expected and adjusted accordingly. Hopefully, Renamon was not in dire need of her journal. "I don't think I should play until then."

He sighed. The child hadn't done something casual in a long time; opting out proved disappointing. "I'm sorry."

An apology rather than an offer would deem his presence more obtrusive than wanted, but Albedo was in a mood to accept being put off just like that. He released his hold slightly, keeping contact but loosening enough for Nigredo to step back if he wanted. A notebook seemed boring depending on the contents (and he instantly moved to wonder just whose it was) but it was still a form of spending time.

He looked at Nigredo in some amusement, eyebrows cocking upward. "And I take it I'm not invited?" Or rather. Hadn't it been.... Memories were deemed faulty, but he still believed that he remembered.... Albedo moved to tease based only on guesswork. "Or was that my only chance, the only things were messy?" Because his brother had said, then, that he only had wanted to read with him that night. And before that, on the board, Nigredo had said that he had wanted Albedo's help. The amused smile turned a little lonely, touched still with understanding. He could see, still, if his brother didn't want him to take part in that anymore. "It's okay. Really. I don't mind."

...Much.

Oh. "Um." Eloquence crumbled as comprehension dawned, a very specific memory clouding the consciousness of the darker child. Nigredo swallowed, uncertain on how to act. The chance referred to was the night before last, and it had--like the night that was last--etched permanence into his being. Things were messy. Although the desire remained, he would be false to claim enthusiasm.

When one gazed at the end, however, the item was only a journal. The activity was only reading. If doubt laced easily into such simple matters, Nigredo would be going back on his promise. Therefore, slowly, he shook his head.

"You're still invited," he said. He did not smile, but nothing hinted at strain. "A lot of things were unfair then, but it would be mean of me to turn you away right now."

Edited 2012-02-12 04:33 (UTC)

Brother dear did not seem excited, but he hadn't to begin with. So Albedo took the words, rather than the lack, and released Nigredo, stepping backwards to put his hands up behind his head. He gave a smile, then looked out over the field. Unlike the courtyard, there were no benches on which to place themselves, but there were still.... Albedo tilted his head back at Nigredo, then set off, walking until they stopped at one of the goal nets. Nigredo trod to a nurse, murmuring something, and Albedo leaned back against one of the posts, waiting. The woman vanished and returned, handing something over, then Nigredo came back over. Albedo reached out and tugged Nigredo against the concurrent side of the pole, then leaned his head back against the metal.

"All right, darling dear," he said simply. "Now tell me about this journal you've been hinting at for days."

The nurse had been prompt about retrieving the notebook, and Nigredo offered his gratitude in words. "Thank you," he had said, before moving to where Albedo was situated. The minutes away did better for his mood, and by the time he adjusted against the pole, the boy appeared lighter, perfectly ready to take on an overdue task.

His explanation, therefore, read as excitement. He had been looking forward to this for awhile, after all. "The journal was lent to me a few days ago." By no one in particular, of course. As much as he admired Renamon, Nigredo was not so stupid as to focus on another in front of this brother. "It contains transcripts of the intercom and radio broadcasts made in the period before our arrival. By Dr. Landel, his former associate, and others."

Without thinking, the child blushed, obviously pleased. "There is a good deal of history tied to this place," he continued. "From what was hinted at, it sounds pretty incredible." Entertaining to a twelve-year-old's mind, at least.

Edited 2012-02-13 03:57 (UTC)

...Honestly, the second Nigredo seemed enthused, a part of Albedo's brain went into listening mode while the rest focused on little brother's reactions. When Nigredo began to blush that was all. Oh, they'd read whatever had intrigued Nigredo this much. But Albedo would have fun while they were at it.

He moved to lean on his side instead, reaching a hand to run against Nigredo's arm. "Incredible... Is it...? You seem pretty excited at least." His hand moved to Nigredo's face, the cold skin of his hand against Nigredo's warm cheek. Albedo eyelids slid to half-mast. "Tell me more," he said, sliding against Nigredo's side. "I'll be the perfect audience."

The dignity Nigredo held could not be sure if Albedo was making fun of him. He spent a good second observing his sibling, wondering if the mirrored face hinted at sincerity or otherwise. Of course, nothing in the boy saw touch as an abnormality. Albedo tended toward contact; thus, a hand at his cheek fell into normal behavior.

"This is worth getting excited over," he stated with a matter-of-fact tone. It proved to be a sad attempt at convincing, and it showed when the pink tinge turned red. "In any case, would you like for me to start with a summarized introduction first or just read the transcripts?" Normally, Nigredo would fall in with the latter, but the former may be required.

The minor defensiveness was endearing, and without any to say otherwise, Albedo curled into his brother against the post. "I see..." he murmured quietly. "Anything that can get you excited like that must be interesting indeed." If little brother pressed at his brother's waveform for hints of sincerity, that would be all he found. Albedo was not mocking, and more, was pleased at Nigredo's responses. Whether Albedo's reactions made sense to Nigredo or not.

"You can read the transcripts," he said, without any knowledge of what they were. He was honestly curious, if Nigredo was like this. "But tell me what we're getting into first." Nigredo said history, so possibly it was a basis of the start-up? He couldn't be sure. "Why did you say that you needed me when you originally asked?"

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