Nightshift 45: West Wing, South Hall 1-A

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[From here]

Tyki headed through the double doors into the next hallway, still not seeing anything or anyone around this place. The area was still as empty and boring as ever. He'd almost wish for the head doctor to switch around the lay-out of the place a bit, if only it weren't for the fact that figuring out what was where would be a real pain. Especially on the rare occasion he would need to be somewhere, and considering the guy's excellent sense of timing...

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[purgatio]

The presence was taken as it came closer, coupled with a strange feeling attached. Something slid down his spine, but it wasn't unwanted, merely strange. He mentally shook it off, swallowing. Nigredo stopped in front of him, but Albedo's eyes remained shut until his brother finished speaking. His eyes opened, locking on Nigredo's face for a moment before dropping down to the sword Nigredo carried. Albedo now knew it well.

His mouth thinned. "Perhaps I shouldn't have. It seems I may have been unwanted."

And why had he came? The question, repeated, stayed. Albedo glanced up at Nigredo, something almost like hurt flashing there, before looking away. Once again, perhaps, he had moved in error.

[falseblack]

The presence drew closer, a kind of desperation tracing his steps. Step, rather. The last emotion on Albedo's face stopped the variant cold. "No," Nigredo whispered forcefully, affect rising in his tone. "Don't think that you're..."

Unwanted.

His teeth suddenly pressed against his lower lip, words trailing in an effort to show some restraint. Instead, the link finished the sentiment for him, and Nigredo, too, looked away.

[purgatio]

He should have thought this--after all, last night had to have some lasting impressions. This, perhaps? He offered it up, an easy way out--this is why you don't want me. Despite the events of the morning. His right hand tensed, fingers curling comfortably into a fist to remain at his side. No, this was--

Words, harsh and firm. Desperate. He knew the tone as well as he knew himself. Oh so much and not at all. The impression alone would have done the trick, but the link pressed forward as well, a resolve of wanting sinking around him. It was so... unknown. Different. Yearned for. He had spent all day relaxing from this sensation, and here it was again, just as strong. The boy swayed, a hand going to the wall for balance.

It was undeniable. He knew this. But it was so hard to accept.

[falseblack]

These thoughts, misconceptions of varying severity, were entirely unwanted. He hadn't ever wished them entertained in such a light; he could not stand to watch them twist and become shapes not known. Thus, Nigredo cut straight through, the words rising like a sob.

{I'm sorry.} He inhaled sharply, letting the desperation die with the apology. {Don't misunderstand.} Please. He hadn't, after all, meant to color his intentions. Hadn't meant to do a lot of things. The eyes fixed on the door beside them held nothing, but his free hand closed in tightly against the hem of his shirt.

A question posed at the forefront of Nigredo's mind, a need waiting to be addressed. As to whether or not an answer would follow, it was uncertain.

[purgatio]

It had been... Albedo had never had patience for the few apologetics he had received from Nigredo. This, as well, could not be accepted. Still leaning against the wall, Albedo half-heartedly glared at Nigredo, the feeling that those words were unnecessary permeating his ken. "I don't misunderstand anything," the boy shot, pride forcing the words.

To be undermined in the next breath. {Never mind. It's all right.} Albedo sighed, closing his eyes. A moment passed, and he pushed off the wall. No answer had been given to Nigredo's unspoken question, but a need had rose; one Albedo was forcefully denying. He would not break here. He would not cling to this brother, no matter the events of the day. This was not something he--wanted. And this could not be something he ignored.

He stared at Nigredo for a second, intentions and emotions unreadable for the briefest of instants. The boy extended a hand, palm up, and waited.

[falseblack]

Neither Nigredo nor his side of their connection reacted to the contrary statements. The first came naturally, despite (or perhaps because of) the austerity. The second proved surprising, yet contained hints when looked upon in retrospect. These were...perfectly fine. Somehow.

He did, however, turn back to regard Albedo, raising his eyes to catch the extended hand. A moment passed before Nigredo registered red numbers encompassing white flesh, but the child eventually understood. In a creeping pace, he uncurled his fingers from the folds of his shirt and reached out. His hand cupped over and settled on his brother's open hand: a gesture of giving, though hardly in the literal sense.

Yes. This was perfectly fine.

[purgatio]

There was silence, constant and familiar, and yet Albedo waited. For a strange, uncertain moment, he paused, mimicking time, and stayed. Many things could happen in this instant, and again, again, Albedo thought none of them. There was movement, cloth shifting, and then the light touch of fingers; the warmth of a palm.

For another moment his hard-worked stillness remained like nothing had happened--then, like a trap closing around prey, Albedo's hand tightened around Nigredo's, squeezed at the same time breath released from his chest, relief sliding across his expression. There was something extraordinarily relieved passing along the link, some odd aspect of content shifting down. For a moment this was everything, and Albedo allowed it.

In the next moment, his hand squeezed once before releasing its tight grasp, a weakness given in to and let to be alone. Albedo smiled once at his sibling, something almost unknown in this time period, and turned to open the door; pulling Nigredo gently.

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