damned_institute | Nightshift 49: 2nd Floor Staff Lounge

Here was another kind of relief, a silence instead of words (and when had that become something wanted?). Perhaps only because this touched too close to a chance of rejection, perhaps simply because he had said what had been shifting within his mind, perhaps that was why he could take the subject shifting as something impossible before.

He sighed, cause unknown, and glanced to the can in question. A moment, and he reached over to snag the drink to try for himself. Agreement came in the form of an expression similar to the one he had made earlier in the night; he made a face and handed it back. "Really weird," he answered in kind.

Despite the statement and the subsequent agreement, Nigredo took the drink back and continued his slow sips, each portion growing subsequently larger than the last. When he spoke again, half of the can was gone. It was an accomplishment for someone who typically disliked sweet things.

"Albedo," he started, sounding slightly disoriented, "if we're still here tomorrow, do you want my things? I don't care what you do with them." It would keep a section of last night from occurring a second time.

...From apparent calm to the opposite. Albedo straightened, staring at Nigredo. If they were still here. Did he want his things? Both pieces of the statement came as something to reject; something to push against fiercely. Something that caused the wound in his chest to spread further.

His hand moved with knowledge to Nigredo's thigh, fingertips pressing. "I don't need things," he answered somewhat harshly. And he hadn't. Ever and always. Despite dolls to play with (break and throw away), Albedo had never been materialistic. What was important was simply... All there was was only.... It caught in his throat, unable to be voiced. Too easily seen were the weakness of bonds. "If we're still here tomorrow," he started again. "I just want you where I can see you."

For once, the words didn't sting, as though the younger understood the misstep and simply worked to correct it. The stare and the hand were ignored as well as the last statement. They could not be processed at this time. "I know," he said instead. "I just didn't want to keep them in my room." For someone to shuffle through and scatter-- The thought was enough to cause a muscle in his arm to twitch.

He tilted to the armrest on his left, his head nudging against the fabric. Eyelids dropped halfway without conscious knowledge. "You don't have to," continued Nigredo, voice shifting to a mumble. To trail to incoherency as the boy closed his eyes.

Then, silence.

The acceptance was as unexpected as anything else. His mind quickened, shifted to catch the change involving, and pressed at comprehension. Nigredo didn't want to keep the things in his room. Surely, he could understand this. See bandages on a hand to know the reasons. His mouth thinned in a quiet anger of a subject unvoiced. "I will, if you want," he answered, voice casually strained.

Silence was noted, body leaning more, and Albedo slowly reached out to touch the cheek facing him. Soft. Familiar. In this, it seemed his brother had turned the other cheek entirely. And now? Was it his move to play?

There was a murmur that sounded not quite like gratitude, a detachment that felt far from sleep. Nigredo stayed stationary at the touch, but some part of him prompted a content sigh. He was tired, touching unconscious. Shying away was not going to happen for the moment.

Eventually, he dredge up some attention long enough to readdress his brother. "Can I sleep for five minutes?"

The reactions were taken more than anything else. From this brother, such unconscious open admissions were few, if at all. Albedo retracted his hand hesitantly, something absolutely foreign in the scenario. (And what had changed so fiercely?)

Nigredo spoke, words a murmur, and Albedo opened his mouth to remind him of his own wanting, to leave this place where they were, and then rethought. His hand moved to a brother's arm, the gesture habitual with any prior aspects. "...If you want. I'll watch over you."

A week ago, this statement wouldn't have been reassuring. A week prior, it would have been said as a threat; a wide grin and lilting words. Albedo understood this, saw the shifts in details, and still... Still, it held, despite everything. The fact that things had changed so deeply. His waveform moved forward, traced the edges of Nigredo's own. {Rest for now.}

Not exactly wanted, but the statement still held. He might have wondered why he would even sleep in Albedo's presence, but the answers were already there. At the end of all reasons, his welfare did not matter. What happened to him would steadily lose its significance; it would be best to never hold to things in the first place.

Like shifting of motives while one slept.

The thought was potent enough to seep into his waveform, and when Nigredo "spoke" again, he sounded sad. Defeated. The meaning unconsciously revealed. {Good night.} With that, he fell asleep.

The emotions themselves would have been perfectly clear by themselves, a change in mentality enough to make him question. But the reason behind the sensations, flitting as they were, mirrored his own train of thought, but in the opposite way. Despite the weight behind it, Albedo was hurt. He swallowed in it, half-angry and embarrassed. What did it matter?

It did, though. Nigredo needed to understand. Albedo pulled his legs up, curling into a ball next to his sibling, head pressed against Nigredo's arm. He was awake. As if he would ever sleep. The fact that Nigredo could--Though true, he was ill. Of some sort. Still. Albedo wanted to wake him, press at him certain facts that were true at least for now--ignoring emotions, shifting as they were, facts along the link could be... some kind of reassurance.

But he had promised hadn't he? Five minutes. He bit his lip, staring out into the room.

Five minutes passed. As promised, Nigredo stirred and opened an eye, before managing the other. A weight on one side brought his attention to the time, and he reached out with a good hand to touch a sibling's side. He did not know if Albedo had forgotten; probably not if he'd slept for the appointed time. Granted, there was a chance hours might have went by without a single warning, but he didn't think his brother would have stood for that.

"We can go now," he said.

A touch came like a shock, and his head stretched to consider his brother. Despite Nigredo's words, Albedo didn't move, other than to reach awkwardly to the hand touching and hold it. "Nigredo..."

Would he touch here, press for confirmation? If Albedo could take that Nigredo wouldn't hurt him... Though it didn't matter, did it? That's what made it unfair. Physical harm had never mattered to this Variant. The things that needed trust were emotional in nature, and Albedo, despite leanings, had not yet allowed himself to even consider that. He was a hypocrite, and he knew this, but he would still move forward.

Of the two things touched on, one would not be spoken of. He had already decided that tonight. It left only an issue of trust, not altogether wrong. Albedo had tried to attack him multiple times, two nights ago even, and Nigredo wasn't wrong. To be wary. Except that now....

He pressed in to his brother's side more, the move unconscious. "Unless something changes... Unless something...." Words failed where explanation wanted. {I wouldn't hurt you. I won't hurt you. Understand.}

Please understand. Don't shut me out.

Sense was lost, comprehension becoming an increasingly challenging effort. Here was a brother who claimed no harm to Nigredo's person. Who, days before, had shown contradicting tendencies. Who held an influence with what was their anti-existence, who was something of a time bomb when it came to moods and shifts. This same individual was promising the sort of kindness one would expect from a beloved.

It wasn't a lie. You could not create falsity with waveforms like you could with words. Albedo truly harbored no hidden nor dubious intentions; in this moment, he would never hurt Nigredo. Like he actually cared.

Therein was the crux. Moments such as these rarely lasted, and the child knew that something would change. They would fall back on inhibitions, duties, and habits, and the promise held now would no longer apply. This was why everything was useless.

He could believe him, but what would be the point?

Nigredo said nothing for a long moment, his conclusions churning uncomfortably within him. Logic knew that keeping silence or lying would do nothing between them. Complete truth, however, would only hurt, and one or more might react negatively. Simplicity, it seemed, was the only option available. The words formed before he could properly think.

{I understand.}

Albedo pushed himself up, hands tracing the edge of Nigredo's leg. Did he really? Understand? The link didn't lie, but there was no way to tell if-- He swallowed again, contemplating the shifts to this place. The start of the evening the night before, and everything... Up to that point. Things had become complicated, confusing his mind and heart with the actions of both siblings, but in all of this--Albedo didn't want to see Nigredo cry again--motivations had begun to center around a simple truth.

"You're lonely," he said softly. "And I don't want to be alone. So don't be sad. I'm not--" Not. "...Going anywhere." A petty promise that. Their elder had left without a trace, beating heart tearing from a place it once-- Breathing had become difficult, and Albedo took in careful, shaky breaths.

It was such a childish sentiment, asking someone not to be sad, to take comfort in another's presence. Though Nigredo was young in body and in certain parts of life, there existed an ancient component that refused the attempts at optimism, the straightforward solution to loneliness. Albedo was being kind but also naive. Proclamations and promises only served to worsen when they were broken. Because they would be broken, whether by will or not.

His gaze drifted to the side, before the child wiggled away from his brother to rise. Not to abandon but to continue forward. "I know," Nigredo said. He knew, despite the fact. "Are your feet okay?"

There remained silence in turn; left untreated it would fester and worsen, but it is was, he was prompted by action, by responsibility. He had agreed. Promised movement and a half-hearted escape, and now stagnancy wasn't an option. Tomorrow, maybe. If they were still here, he would just... Rot.

He straightened further, pressed hands to the couch to rise in turn. "Yes," he answered clearly. A look, too complicated to detail, chanced a gaze to Nigredo. "All better now."

A shadowed cheek was offered to Albedo as Nigredo stepped to retrieve the bottle left behind. The can was placed in its stead. "That's good," he stated gently. No lie. He was glad that Albedo was no longer treading on glass.

The child made to move toward the door but stopped a few steps before the threshold to allow his brother to catch up. Then, he touched the knob.

[To here.]

Edited 2010-05-31 04:31 (UTC)

Nightshift 49: 2nd Floor Staff Lounge

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