NIGHT 65: M1-M10 HALLWAY

[his_legacy]

As soon as the intercom was through, Link was off at a sprint. He carried the pillow case,his flashlight, and the knife from the previous evening.

There were now two tasks to be accomplished: Supplies for Sora, and another clue in the X-Ray Room. Two birds with one stone in the medical wing. There wasn't a moment to lose.

Sora could already be gone by the time he returned.

[To here]

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[purgatio]

For a beat, Albedo continued to trace hair, then the hand dropped back to his lap, and he shrugged, a twitch of a gesture. "I can't tell you, love. It's the beginning of night, though."

A moment, shifting. This, perhaps, needed not to be said. Not with Nigredo like this. "I don't want you to leave your room tonight." Even as the thought of leaving his brother in this condition made it feel like a betrayal. The emotion pulsed between them.

[atrabilis]

The beginning of night was an acceptable prospect, for it meant no critical loss of time. Nigredo propped his pillow to the headboard and leaned back, ignoring the threat of vertigo that came with the shift. A weary smile etched onto his lips at the request. "I can't focus my eyes," came the admittance. "I doubt I could leave in this condition."

There was more, of course, facts he had only recently unearthed. They settled like a weight at the back of his head, but nothing in him was so willing to divulge. Not yet and not especially to someone already pressed with concern. Nigredo reached for Albedo's hand.

"I'll be okay." Even as things weren't. He would do what was asked of him.

[purgatio]

A compress of his heart, enough that stagnancy, reserve, broke without warning, and he nearly threw himself forward despite all of his belongings; dislodging a shotgun to clack against the floor as Albedo wrapped his arms around his brother's waist, head burrowing into stomach. "I don't want to leave you alone."

He didn't want to leave at all. It went against instinct, even as it adhered only to logic. {I don't want to leave you at all,} came the mental sob, a contrast to yet dry eyes. {But if I don't kill them... If I don't find the cure....} There was nothing more important, nothing more trite. It sounded like a line from a novel. It was only all there was. {I have to protect you.}

[atrabilis]

The world collapsed. A brother fell against him, desperation seeping past boundaries and barriers, and Nigredo blinked, comprehension all but lost. The price of a want held weight, dragged his brother down to a sad, unforgiving reality, and he knew. The burden of it. If Albedo wanted, Nigredo could offer understanding in spades; after all, he knew what came from protecting what was most cherished.

He did not argue against the intentions. He did not filter through the semantics and the details. Instead, he held Albedo's head, traced the other's hair with cold and clumsy fingers. {It will be okay.} Even as things weren't. {You're not alone. We're together.} To trudge against life's pitfalls. Nigredo wouldn't just disappear; he wouldn't fall to resignation. He would fight to retain himself for as long as he was able and help Albedo in any way possible. This he placed between them, a sentiment to hold to despite everything. A sentiment that had nothing to do with the self and everything to do with another.

Without another word, he reached to the side and procured a handgun, an unexpected gift from a source recently missed. {Here.} Nigredo pushed it onto Albedo's hand. {It's yours.}

[purgatio]

It was little, and it was everything. Perhaps where another would have rejected the sentiment, claimed that everything must be done by himself, Albedo did not. Where humans would still shake in that fear, Albedo held to stillness. Nigredo was here. They would do this together. And as if to punctuate that, Nigredo pressed one of the guns seen into Albedo's hand, his fingers fitting around the grip in familiar ways. It was bigger than the ones that they had been used to, but it was similar all the same.

He stayed there, hugging Nigredo for a moment, then slowly sat up and breathed. After a moment, calm resolve fought to maintain itself on his features, and he popped the clip out to look over the bullets. Seventeen. This would be more than useful. Albedo smiled at Nigredo, something obscenely gentle in the expression. {Thank you.} For everything. For all of it.

The next moment, the smile had turned more firm. "Now, if we're going to team up, you have to promise to do two things for me, okay? First, if you need anything, you have to tell me, and if your condition changes, you have to tell me that, too. I need to be aware at all times, Nigredo. I won't know the best way to protect you otherwise. And I want to help you, as much as I'm able."

The second was simpler. "I'll be researching, too, but there's rumors already of a cure from others. Try to sort through what you can, and look for it. We'll compare notes frequently and see what we can find."

[atrabilis]

The gratitude was taken, swallowed into the inky black for later consumption. It was enough. More than enough. He could subsist on acceptance and be fine for the time being. As Albedo worked, Nigredo's countenance lightened considerably, enough to lessen the appearance of heat. Perhaps one could call him selfish for the potential loss of lives or morbid for the lack of concern. Perhaps truth lay within those labels, but he could not bring himself to care.

It was what it was. Separation, loneliness, and death--these were no longer an option, the one fact he could not deny.

Albedo continued, setting options to promises, and Nigredo found himself nodding. "Needs, changes in condition, and a cure," he stated. "I promise." There was a pause, heavier than before.

"Albedo." Brother. "Be careful. You have to take care of yourself, too." Alright?

[purgatio]

Nigredo agreed, and lightness passed through him. There was nothing to be fought, or unwillingness to his terms. His brother only agreed readily, and nothing further. The child smiled.

An expression that faltered slightly at Nigredo's continuance. It called backwards, weeks, to when another of blood made a half-hearted attempt at concern, and Albedo had laughed then, raged then, because it just seemed a boot to be ground into him, because how could he get hurt?!

...There were differences now, he knew injuries better now, and Albedo knew that Nigredo did not only mean physically. That care did not simply extend to the body alone. He nodded once, then tried to smile again--it came out shy and small. The gesture given lacked both of those, however: He leaned over his brother's legs and the items on the bed and pressed his lips to Nigredo's, a hand coming up to thread through his hair.

Whatever you want, seemed too trite for tonight, and Albedo only gave agreement against Nigredo's lips. "I will. I won't be reckless." A thick promise from this one. "I love you, Nigredo."

After a moment, he slipped from the bed, turned once out the door, and left into the night.

--Except not quite.

In the hallway, a key was taken from a pocket, and Albedo turned it in the lock fluidly. A click echoed back in Nigredo's room. {So no one bothers your rest.} Ironically, the sentence lacked any possessiveness the gesture would normally have gained, and instead only held affection. {Sleep well.}

[to here]

[atrabilis]

Another slipped past boundaries and touched lips to his, and Nigredo could not understand. He felt his heart flutter in its beats as Albedo slid fingers through his hair. There was agreement and a promise, and then the elder spoke a phrase that affected him more than the last: I love you.

He flushed through his fever. To his annoyance, the room spun once more. "...You, too," came the mutter. Nigredo was also sorry, very sorry for the deterioration and the unneeded burden, but that could not be said. Not yet. Complications would arise; he no longer had the right to complain the moment he offered his trust. As Albedo left the room, he swallowed the rest of his words and fell back onto the bed.

A click drew his attention momentarily, the subsequent explanation more so, but before the boy could even touch his reactions, he slid into apathy. Reminded himself of his trust. {Good night,} he sent instead. Be well, was the final implication.

Again, he went the way of dreamless sleep and thought little of the loss before him.