Night 53: Solitary Room 1

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{Rubedo might come back.}

That was the crux of the matter, wasn’t it? Words said at the break of day, tinged with irony and dramatics. And what had happened that next day? What had accumulated from knowledge and belief

Comments

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[From here.]

There was a dreadfully long second as familiarity registered. The sensation of being pulled away from one area and dumped in another had happened before. Many times before, if his memory of that one night wasn't a mistake. Only now, it involved nothing of doors, nothing of rejection, and--

All he heard was singing.

The sound was coarse, and the chills that resonated from the tips of his hair to the base of his feet said he knew the song and its singer. Knew the effects which failed to hold him had practically overwhelmed another, and Nigredo wondered if their meetings would always bring a sense of irony. This was irony at its very best, after all, and for what he now was, the child could appreciate the humor and laugh

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It was possible that the thing that Albedo had become in the time shut away recognized the presence of another person. Nothing more than that, nothing less--a perpetrator in the crime of violation. Of stepping foot in a place deemed sacred, if only for the reason that it was where he resided, hand and foot and Song, was locked in and locked to, where his existence lay fleeting in the shadows yet caused.

Should he question another's presence in his home? Should he pause to reflect what could bring one here, as the darkness grew deeper? No, nothing of the sort. There was a tearing inside of him, and like an animal wounded, he rose to harm something that threatened by proximity. Should he not die in peace? Should he not exist as he had been, tortured by facts and siblings and unable to move? Wasn't it simply perfect? Wasn't it such a flawless impression of his own wretched existence

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Perhaps it can be attributed to experience. Perhaps his instincts had merely amplified from the unexpected, or intuition had grasped the basics that made his older brother. Regardless of source, Nigredo moved in time, in step, in without missing a heartbeat. One injured arm came upward to cut off access while the other grasped at a wrist, to remain in an ironclad grip

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There existed resistance countered in motion, and Albedo snarled at the touch, lips pulling back over teeth as his face contorted from a painful mix to something closer to rage. To touch him. He despised it. To have anyone other than-- The arm that hadn't halted continued, grabbing the forearm brought as a defense roughly. There existed a follow-up, an action left unturned--

-He could kill this person, kill them without ever thinking of it again, and he knew it, knew it in the way he knew everything else. He was more than able to bring death on another, more than willing to cause pain to those who grabbed him. That man before, he, too had learned not to overstep his bounds, and now another, but wasn't it too faulty? Impression led only to strong arms and needles and this was nothing of the sort, and yet, it could break all the same, would break because he willed it, and he would, because there existed no reason he would stay his hand, no reason to not wage his own pain on another. No

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The sensations brought on by a pushing force seared into his skin, burning past nerves to bone underneath. And still, Nigredo did not move. Stayed the true stoic as his eyes locked onto the contour of his brother, waiting for a consequence--for a shift to begin or for everything to fall. U-DO's taint brought on unpredictability; it was difficult to say which he would eventually face.

Then, Albedo froze, and the inhuman rage that had coursed through the other backpedaled to something more human. To evoke something not quite like relief in the younger.

Nigredo heaved a silent breath but stood his ground. There were questions and statements to offer, but he knew none were right for the moment. Instead, the color in his eyes softened to a dull point. "Albedo." It is good to see you again.

He nodded to the linked limbs without any humor. "Let me go."

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The response was nearly maddening by itself. His name alone burst too close to a curse. Again, Albedo's eyes skittered to the side. What had happened? When had...? The door hadn't opened. It hadn't, he was... sure? Could he be sure? He hadn't recognized... He had almost moved to strangle the life from Nigredo, break his neck and leave him to decay, and what had his brother said?! I'll let you?! How stupid, how utterly....

Nigredo went on, and Albedo's eyes snapped back, a fearful element within them. His mind divided. He imagined himself telling Nigredo to leave. Like this, like he was, it was too easy to see him harming his stupid, delicate brother, and breaking something other than a vow. Better he move to somewhere safe than be subjected to

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Cessation of action between them allowed cautionary glances in opposite directions. Green eyes caught a few unassuming features: small, confined space. Smooth floor. The air burned with sedatives and alcohol, and Nigredo briefly wondered how much of their chemicals went into Albedo. How much had it taken to keep him calm? Under control in light of his twin's return?

(And where exactly was Rubedo?)

Then, attention fled in the face of questions. His gaze returned to the elder, the dull features sliding to an absence. He didn't know what to say to these questions. Annoyance was not an avenue to take, though a part wanted nothing more than to callously remind of the answers.

It doesn't matter. Yet now, it...

"Hey." A gentle prompt. A word to call another's focus. Nigredo was not sure what he was doing. "I want you to let go of my arm. It--" Stung surprisingly despite its days of being strangely dead. "--hurts right now."

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For all his emotions, Albedo could call inhuman features to him in a moment--used lately to torment Klavier, to remind one of things different from the reality that was known. For all his emotions, Albedo could go surprisingly blank, a fearful expression devoid of all life. He did that now, for reasons opposite than what was normal. Instead of a monster sizing up prey, his mind had blanked to incomprehension. His effort had been made in reciting questions by rote--to have them unanswered took a moment to understand. That Nigredo had slipped the question. Shifted the subject despite the verity of his claims.

No small part of Albedo wanted to clutch Nigredo's arm tighter, demand answers until he got them, but there existed a line not to be crossed consciously. And that was funny, wasn't it? That even now, even at this point with frayed ends and bitten pieces of a mind left, with a warm hum vibrating within his stomach, Albedo still recalled this and held it as something important. And that he wanted his brother to take back his

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A wise child would have called for the pragmatic. Should have promised to return to the topic (no matter how sullied, repulsive, or tainted the discussion carried itself) once he could get a fix on their current situation. He had come here without explanation, seemingly without any method, and everything remained clouded. It wasn't like the other night: Nigredo did not even touch a door, and yet, he arrived in the very room that held his brother. And he hadn't a clue as to where this room was within the vicinity of the institute

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Did he remember

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The words he had thought fit to use hurt his brother, the resulting pain an echo of his own. And instead of denial or colored glasses that distorted, Nigredo saw without filters. He observed it for what it was: hurt that came from an unwarranted subject. It did hurt Albedo somehow to talk about letting go, and rather than wondering why, he forced himself to understand. Like he never would the other night

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Nigredo was faulty in his thinking. Albedo had not presumed he was the cause at all. That spoke of importance, of meaning to another, and much like Nigredo himself, Albedo did not believe any of that--that his existence gave weight to another's soul. They were pretty words, ribbons and bows, but they touched nothing within himself. Was it that Nigredo was fooling himself, or could he not know? That even now, Albedo assumed that his brother saw him as a nuisance. Wasn't that why he came? (How had he got here?) To look over Albedo so he didn't cause any trouble?

For a moment, the expression was clear on Albedo's face, more human than he'd been in the night, and then he glanced down, stared at the floor as to not call all of this unfair right now. Everything was. Nigredo touching him when he probably didn't want to. The fact that Albedo had thought he understood his brother, but Nigredo still didn't want a part of Albedo. That Rubedo had broken Nigredo as clearly as he had Albedo, without a thought or care to the consequences. That that

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Silence cut through the air like a blade, with Nigredo rapidly losing words. It wasn't that he did not understand the logic or that he could not see the source of his brother's outburst. Nigredo could be shortsighted at times, but here, he wasn't going to be stupid and say none of it was true. That should have been the end of it, should it not

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Anger. Emotion. Had Albedo been more whole, more tainted, he would have appreciated it. Been more detached from the situation, would have adored it. He strove for reactions, reveled in them when they came, and at this point with this other, his depression only increased. There was nothing wanted in this. He had wanted to soothe, not stroke fires. He was not good with this kind of situation, as was so obviously pointed out. He did not understand.Something moved in the back of his head, an answer to the swell of sorrow, but he didn't move to part his lips and allow it. Instead he quieted, gave no kindling to be burned in this. His temper wasn't for this brother. And it wasn't as if Nigredo was attacking him. No. Just throwing words in a jumble. Some understood all too well, and some too confusing to be questioned. Undoes everything Nigredo prevented? Was there any sense in that

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There existed a multitude of ways--a plethora of paths the youngest could take. With Albedo, with Rubedo, with everything about this place, he could take anything, leave everything, become what was wanted or unwanted. Fair or unfair, expected or not. His chest rose quietly to fall, and he thought about every word to spill and every move to make in that tiny room. There existed a multitude of ways

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Actions in the past don't define the future. Unlike his brother, Albedo had not been told that, and if he had, he would have disagreed. It seemed too flighty an idea, too easily shook by reality's winds. The past doesn't define the future. But it did, didn't it? Everything that had happened had shifted them to where they were, and if he was to speak truth, the opposite was more correct, wasn't it? The future didn't define what was now. Because Nigredo was entirely correct in his next sentence. It matters what happens now.

And what was to happen now? His brother had continued, moving back and forth between speech and silent communication like he was trying to admit something unseen. And Albedo didn't disagree. He wouldn't hurt him. He had tried so hard not to hurt him, and if not hurting Nigredo was a surprise... Then Albedo would keep doing it until it was something familiar instead. Something without any thought. To where Nigredo could sleep by him and not waste a thought on defense, wanted or otherwise