Day 40: Sun Room [Fourth Shift]
Well, that was... special. No wonder he was losing respect for this place--the fearful Martin Landel was coming undone, most probably with boredom. So scary. Even Nursey seemed a little exasperated, though that most likely had more to do with X's constant insistence to stay in the Sun Room rather than go inside the Greenhouse
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Away from his brothers, where his own prying eyes couldn't see them, his overconfidence and hostility slid away to be replaced by fatigue and anxiety. And what had been the point in that? From whatever standpoint he chose to have at the moment, approaching Nigredo was a poor decision, and made him question his actions. Was the youngest truly only a distraction? Albedo couldn't handle watching Rubedo interact with another again, and so he went to Nigredo, who in turn sparked Albedo's hatred, taking his mind off of his love for another.
A muscle in his neck jumped.
No. No, he knew Nigredo was wrong, needed to be nullified, and after that, he would.... Would what? What would he do after?! How could he--
Breathing heightened, face constricting, he turned from the board, clutching the notebooks to him like a safety line. No. No no no. And how was he to think now? All of that, all of this, and now seeing Rubedo's note. His secure hatred had shattered in a moment; familiar insecurities rising up. Spend time with his twin? Of course. In a moment. In a heartbeat. But to put himself out there... No, this was a chance for retribution of course. Or maybe... Rubedo was really sorry. No...!
His hand spasmed, and he dropped his head to his chest, dizzy. He needed to sit down. It was only when he was almost to the closest couch when he realized Angel was sitting on it. Without a word, Albedo nearly dropped into it, still holding the notebooks to his chest.
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Surprised, he blinked and closed his book, brows furrowed slightly as he glanced over. "Are you all right?"
He didn't know what was going on, but a part of him did not actually find Albedo's state of mind unexpected. It'd been clear from the first moment Angel had spoken to the boy that the kid wasn't the most stable head out there. If he had to admit, that had been part of why he'd been drawn to Albedo initially.
Albedo still had the notebook, too. Or, notebooks. It seemed he'd obtained another one. Angel knew he'd been in awe of the item, but he hadn't realized how much until now. It was...concerning, in a sense.
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This, an abstract part of his mind noted, was becoming familiar as well.
'All right' was too pretty of a phrase, locked in simplicity and seeped in society's reasoning. 'All right' did not apply to him, not when both brothers had--
His breath had sped up again. He tried to control it. Albedo's grip on the items in his arms had loosened, and one of his arms trailed out slowly, hesitantly, before touching Angel's wrist. Without grabbing, the tips of his fingers pressed, as if to find some sense of stability.
He didn't know why he was still looking.
"Not exactly," the child muttered, half coherent, half giving in to the entity that was wrapped around his mind.
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So, obviously Albedo was upset about...something. Should he ask? Yeah, he identified with Albedo in some ways, saw parts of those he used to know in him in other ways, but that didn't still help him know what to do next.
He kind of wished he was better at this. These situations cropped up more often than he expected. And it made him wonder what had happened that had made Albedo like this. He didn't mean who had upset him; he meant just...overall. Was it someone in particular or just circumstances in general?
Because it could certainly be someone. Angel knew all too well how easy it was to singlehandedly drive person insane. Drusilla wasn't the first nor the last. Maybe that was why he wanted to help the boy here, right now, and he wasn't sure if he should hate himself or not for apparently having ulterior motives; motives that, if he stopped to think about it, he knew had always been there in one form or another from the very first moment he'd decided to help Buffy.
Usually, he tried not to stop and think about it.
"Okay," he said finally. "Did you...want to tell me about it?"
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Albedo took some odd kind of strength from this silent presence next to him, attempting to still at least his waveform to a point where his dear brothers wouldn't be able to tell something was wrong. Still--calm was far too away from him. His brothers?! The yet-to-be-murderous favorite still masquerading as a lamb--the most beloved twin who ripped everything away with his own hands. And Albedo was to be calm? Not to alert them to his plight? He was sickeningly reminded of muffling tears at night as not to wake them up. He would have rathered them wake! Rathered them come to him, caring, instead of peacefully sleeping, dreaming of inner worlds with silent girls that said all too much.
No, this... This wasn't him anymore. This wasn't... He was so much... He was stronger, better, and yet it all still got to him. Albedo tried to take a deep breath and failed, softly gasping. He needed to find a center, a stable point, something to take hold of.... His mind moved him to a point in the past, listening to Rubedo's heartbeat, when that used to be a comfort, and the boy focused on his hands, where his fingertips were pressing on Angel's wrist. "I just--"
The boy cut off, curiosity overwhelming inner turmoil at the moment. Albedo frowned, shifting his fingers slightly. Anatomy and the like were some of the first lessons they had learned, and so he knew that here was where your pulse was, where your heartbeat pounded through your veins--he knew enough from watching blood spill there that it pumped strong. Breathing still somewhat erratic, Albedo looked up at Angel, brows furrowed, and stated matter-of-factly, "You don't have a pulse."
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Oh. Damn.
He'd forgotten about that. Then again, most people didn't hold onto him long enough--or even at all--to realize that he was lacking something fairly important to most living beings.
He hesitated. There was no way he was going to tell Albedo what he was exactly, but there was no point in denying that he wasn't quite human. Something told him that Albedo wouldn't be too concerned about that, anyway.
"No," he admitted, finally tugging his wrist gently from Albedo's grasp. "No, I don't."
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No pulse. No heartbeat. The irony was loud and clear--Angel had none while he had two. Hysteria beckoned to him, but he kept considering the implications of this revelation.
What was good about this new strangeness in his life, is that, like most things interesting enough, it took Albedo's mind off of his own troubles. His breathing was slowly returning to normal as the time passed. The boy was always single-minded, and now he was turning those skills to his new... What had the person on the bulletin said? His new friend.
A lack of a heartbeat should have attributed to death automatically. Humans, and any other living thing needed that to survive. So... Angel could continue to exist without a basic need for life? The man could live without blood pumping. And Albedo could live through it pouring out. Oh, this was something interesting!
The boy turned his head upwards to look at Angel with a small smile. "Can you die? Or are you incapable of doing so?"
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"Uh." He scratched the back of his neck absently and put the book he'd forgotten he was still holding.
That was a difficult question. Technically, he wasn't even really alive, but a stake to the heart could dispatch him. It wasn't something he wanted to explain in full, though. Albedo knowing he was different was one thing, but bringing in the part about vampires was a whole other issue.
"It depends," he replied. "I guess I'm just harder to kill."
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Albedo leaned forward a bit, eyes shining. "I'm hard to kill as well," the boy stage-whispered conspiratorially. He laughed again, before looking up. "Actually. I can't be killed. Or die."
The Variant's mind had divided violently at that. Part of him was extremely curious to see this man's--this heartbeat lacking, hard to kill, friend--reaction to what Albedo had just said. The other half had shied away instantly, fearing that that open knowledge would cause yet another to leave him. But this was not something he should hide. This was the... sign, as it were, that he was different. That he was set apart.
And so apart he was. His ascension had come at too steep a price.
No, no. It was no price at all. (He would keep telling himself this.)
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Albedo had smelled off from the start, not quite human, but given this was the norm for most of the people he'd met here, Angel hadn't paid it much thought until now. Albedo had, after all, demonstrated his healing powers, but he hadn't realized it was something much more extreme. It wasn't that he could heal, it was that he simply couldn't remain injured.
Was he as young as he appeared, then? Or was he somehow older? If he couldn't die...
"Do you age at all?" Angel asked.
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Destruction? The word reminded him of Nigredo (reminded him of Rubedo), the only one who ever tried to destroy him. But no matter how many times the baby tried, complete destruction was not Nigredo's gift. That was reserved for another.
This was an old feeling to him, something contemplated long before U-DO took its hold, and frankly, it spoke of humanity more than any kind of divine attributes. But in this, they would be together!
This was an old line of thought, with an older loneliness attached, and Albedo wouldn't go near it. He was not that insane to put a deep kind of faith in that hope. Death would cause him to not be alone, but only if Rubedo cared for him as well. And that--
--breaking away, ripping from hands, "Don't go! Don't leave me here all alone!", choosing others, watching and waiting -and- a closeness, a holding, an apology--was it?, "I thought we could have fun.", "Great! I'll see you then."--
--Was something unknown at the moment. Albedo's head hurt.
His behavior extremely sober compared to the moments before, Albedo answered. "Yeah," was the quiet reply. "We age." His eyes widened in a blink. He had been thinking too much again. Angel had been asking about him personally, not just URTVs. He hadn't meant to say that! "I age," he amended. "I'm the only one with the infinite telomerase, but I age."
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Well, that wasn't completely unexpected. Some people or creatures truly were one-of-a-kind, but more often than not, they were part of a larger group of...species, he supposed. For lack of a better term. And Albedo had stated he had family or those close to him, hadn't he? These others could very well be the people he'd been referring to at the time.
What was more interesting to Angel was that Albedo seemed to view the use of we as a mistake. Something he didn't want found out? Possibly. Considering where they were, extra caution was only reasonable, but it could be something more, as well.
Angel left it for now, deciding he could bring it up later if he had the chance.
"Telomerase?" he asked instead.
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Focusing on this, and not on the other things allowed his breathing to regulate further. The still-unsaid gratitude had magnified. The fact that Angel would allow him his flaws and idiosyncrasies, and not bring them to attention, or even seem to notice them, had an overwhelming flow of relief streamline through him. The man--strangely quiet, heartbeat-lacking, adult male artist--was again causing comfort for no reason other than existing next to Albedo. For acknowledging his presence without requiring anything further--yet being open if the boy had anything to say.
It had the effects of both a sedative and a drug, and with the right wording, it created an almost normal calmness in the Variant. Albedo didn't know what to think. He wanted to reject this feeling and hold on to it. In the end, he simply answered, textbook simplicity.
"It's a retroviral replacement enzyme in the human body. It allows DNA not to be lost when cells divide. It's how people heal normally, or even fight diseases." The boy looked up, expression dull. The taint had whittled away, leaving him drained. "People with shorter telomeres have short lives. Longer, longer lives. But eventually, there's a limit reached to its usage. Except for me. I have the infinite telomerase."
Albedo looked down, voice a whisper now. No taint meant no affirmations of one's identity; no fortifying of one's worth in the world. Albedo's truth was now, once again, his nightmare, and not a precious gift. "...I can't die."
It came out like a death sentence--as ironic as that was. As true as it could be.
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Either way, it was interesting. Made him wonder if there was something to explain away the demon inside him. He hadn't ever thought about what rendered him incapable of aging.
And this was the first time he'd met someone else who didn't see immortality as a gift. Most vampires enjoyed their long life. More time to slaughter, after all. He had certainly enjoyed it once. But after, it was...
His lips quirked into a wry half-smile. "That makes two of us."
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There was something odd gracing Albedo's eyes--a weird mix of a deep pain and a bright hope, and the kind of look that one gives when they're expecting something bad, like being the punch-line in a joke. Because... a joke would make the most sense. Someone else... Someone else like him? Albedo couldn't think. Albedo couldn't breathe.
Being unable to die was a simple fact of life at first, until it was learned that everything else--everyone else (Rubedo)--would die. Everyone would die and leave him alone. Everything that mattered would fade into dust. And death was not even an option. Self-inflicted harm disappeared in seconds, and even U-DO didn't do much damage, and the boy thought that even if Sakura hadn't--
No! No, no no nononono, not that, not there; not that place, that time, and definitely not that girl, not like that, and not after, and then Rubedo was, and even more were they divided, and never would he say, would he tell, and never never, it never happened, and she died, and that was fine, fine, because she took all of his time, and she died and took all of his heart, their heart, and now, and then, and Rubedo wasn't the same. Albedo wasn't the same.
His eyes widened to their fullest, though nothing showed that there was a secondary reaction within him. The boy swallowed, mentally shoving as much as possible of the last few seconds into a black box in his mind where no one was allowed to go. Not even him.
Angel's words echoed in his ears, and Albedo felt like he had gotten hit in the stomach; a dull ache that overwhelmed the sharp pain of loss in this moment. He swallowed again, not realizing his eyes were watering. "Are you..." The boy's voice was hoarse. "You're not joking, are you?"
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"No," he replied after a moment. "I mean. As long as no one kills me, I can...I've been around for a long time."
Understatement, maybe. He hadn't been alive for as long as some, but certainly far longer than most. And truthfully, he was hoping he never lived long enough to start looking like the Master once did. Not just because of aesthetic reasons, either, though there was that, as well. How could there not be? It'd disturbed him the first time he'd seen it and considering he had no soul back then, that was saying a lot.
Albedo probably looked his age, though, considering he said he did age. Or did he age slower?
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