[M57 and the hallway.]The head doctor's mention of sleep studies just got under Zack's skin, but he knew that he couldn't spread himself too thin. It was impossible to be in more than one place at once, obviously, and he'd already dedicated himself to going to the basement. There would be other patients who had decided to help those poor people
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By now, he would admit his current actions were folly. It was a siren's call he never meant to heed, and for all his indifference and dwindling care, it would be a brother's cry that would reach Nigredo. Tears were a weakness; it was a case as old as the youngest himself. Even when nothing remained as his reward, when separation was his only wish, he had to reach.
There existed no other choice. Rubedo was gone. The responsibility fell on the remaining brother. Even if, even if--
Vaguely, Nigredo mused on the source. Wondered if it was possible that Albedo was upset at his earlier words. But that could never be the case. Of course, the elder wanted him gone. Proclaimed it as much in the week before: Nigredo had taken everything. The revelation was a cause for rejoicing, a justification turning right. Nothing in Albedo would mourn the confession. Nigredo should look elsewhere, shouldn't he? An empirical source, something with backing.
His brother hated their chemicals so this could only be a body rejecting the effects. Therefore, he should stay and wait until the moment passed. Until Albedo could be himself again.
The prospect was harder than initially assessed, particularly with their previous interaction in mind. His brother would likely turn him away, which he supposed was deserved. As long as the attempt was made, Nigredo could garner a resolution of sorts. A final gesture.
Propriety would normally have him knocking. Tonight, it was gone, replaced by a need to intrude. The youngest simply pressed his ear to the door and waited for a long minute before moving his hand to the knob. He entered without so much as saying a word, walking to stand at the foot of Albedo's bed. The hunched form was observed under an unfathomable gaze: the boy didn't have a reason to speak. Nor address the words spilling from his brother's lips.
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Words trailed to a murmur, a mumble; syllables losing elasticity and becoming nothing but a dull whine punctuated by ragged gasps of air. A hand slid from his head to hit the mattress loosely, fingers wrapping around sheet on instinct. Clutching. Clinging. Don't leave.
This is when clouded eyes caught black and green in sight. Did not question the sight or presence. Or his sibling's reticence. It was simply as it was, and for once Albedo took it merely at that and nothing more. Yes--that was taken, to speak true, but not allowed. Not the distance. No. Giving in to more animal instincts, speed allowed him to move towards a need--arms reached to clutch a familiar body. Balance, however, would falter; the pair slipping back down towards the mattress.
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When violet eyes caught his visage, however, the child flinched. He would have (despite the early need for obligations) stumbled back to escape if his brother hadn't reached over to grab him. If they hadn't fallen into the bed. Nigredo briefly feared the middle variant's wrath at the intrusion and stiffened at the touch, but where he expected violence, none came. Nothing rose to admonish him--not yet, anyway.
Again, Nigredo did not move. Instead, his thoughts converged to a single name, then passed itself along the link. {Albedo...}
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His name spoken.
That same voice had confessed what the middle Variant already knew. That voice had brought into being a fear, and why, why now, why when Rubedo was gone, why was he gone, why didn't he love him, why did Nigredo want to leave him, why--
His arms slacked uncharacteristically; he unintentionally cried harder. "Why?" The word hurt. His throat ached. "Why do you want to leave me, too?"
Albedo lifted pained eyes to his brother's face, expression contorted by pain. "What did I do wrong? I don't want you to die."
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Then, at least. Not now. The callousness that had formed beneath everything else shifted his mindset. Though he wouldn't extend a hand across the forming rift, Nigredo opted against brushing the points aside. He did not care, and this demanded truth. The only thing left was to tell Albedo why.
The youngest watched his brother, observing the emotion held in his eyes. Wordlessly, he pulled away to sit upright, though his good hand remained touching. Nothing was said for a long minute.
He finally exhaled. {You should.} Eyelids dropped to halfway, resignation in the act. {I was born to take away someone you love. You should want me to die.} And he had, hadn't he? Regardless of present answers, Albedo had expressed a desire for Nigredo to disappear on more than one occasion. How could he ignore that for this? It wasn't trustworthy.
It also wasn't what Albedo really wanted. What, then, did he want? Nigredo would supply the answer. {Then you wouldn't have to worry about Rubedo anymore.}
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Not at the institute, and before then, Rubedo was not there. His twin had already fully pulled away, had already began to walk in Klavier's footsteps to condemn a brother to his own demise, or worse--to speed it along by his own hand. "Rubedo hates me." A truth to himself as much as Nigredo. His own twin despised him. And how long had that been? Had Rubedo secretly hated him for a long, long time?
His mind couldn't hold that. It slipped away, and with it, the emotion in his eyes. His head fell back against the pillow, a hand searching for the one of Nigredo's touching him and clutching it blindly. "I don't want you to die. I don't want you to die. You can't die. You can't leave. I don't want you to die, Nigredo." Desperation made him move in a way unwanted. {I don't want you to die!}
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{But you love Rubedo.} Otherwise, Albedo would never cry. Otherwise, being alone would not affect him so entirely. It was not a general loneliness that Nigredo occasionally suffered, an insufficiency never quite being fulfilled. It was a loss, pure and complete. And here was the reminder that the youngest was only an inadequate substitute, someone to stay as a mismatched piece while the other was gone. Until the other returned.
Suddenly, however, Nigredo was no longer confident in that viewpoint. The repeated phrase had its intended effects: there existed a desperation in his brother's tone that seemed ingrained, almost like it had been believed for some time. Believed and held to. Green eyes fell to the hand wrapped around his own. {Why?} he questioned, curiosity and hurt lingering in the thoughts. {Why would you ever want something like me to exist?}
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In that absence of life and reason, Albedo had no response to give. No answer known to himself to give to Nigredo. Would he give what lacked? What fell in pieces in despair? Wasn't all of that too apparent?
And still, his brother would ask him why. Wonder at him the want for his own existence. And the answer Albedo could provide. Much and many, and panic tore at him for the correct one, to cancel out the words used. But he remained only to fall short. To, as well, stare at hands adjoined as if they belonged to neither. "Why would you ever want something like me to exist?" he echoed. "That's more appropriate for me to say. Right?" And in his tone there existed a quality nearly as clear as a link's truth. More appropriate because Albedo was wrong, Albedo wasn't supposed to be, and Nigredo was the one who belonged. Wasn't that right?
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But that was not what Nigredo had meant. Being drugged and potentially off-kilter could do things to one's perspective, but this involved only clarity. Albedo had to be corrected.
His eyes moved from the hands to the wall, curiosity dying in favor of hurt. The quiet sort that often came with disagreements, a feature the boy wouldn't have shown in most other contexts. {To me, you and Rubedo existed first,} he sent. {I intruded because of Father. To you, I should be a threat.} As he had the right. {I never should have been born. What everyone else believes doesn't matter.}
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It was such a simple thing. Such a perfect truth. Because it was. When it came down to it, that held when nothing else did not. They were brothers. They were blood. This remained simple. This remained fact. "If you shouldn't have been born... Me, too. I shouldn't have been born either, right? Neither of us...."
The thought trailed, words becoming useless. Albedo was exhausted from the past days, more from the past hour of tears, and he was tired of Nigredo's want. Of his repetitive desire that made no sense. Albedo shifted, to curl on his side around his brother's back. "You say what you want doesn't matter... But what about what I want? I want you to stay with me." He pressed his face into Nigredo, despite any negative reaction the other might have. {You're my brother,} came the quiet sending. {I don't want you to leave me.}
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His line of sight returned to Albedo, disbelief joining the pain. "I'm your brother," he echoed, "but it remains. I almost killed you. I might do the same with Rubedo." His head shook, dispersing the prospects. "Those facts should override our relationship. Are you saying you don't care anymore? You don't care if I'm--" He trailed off, swallowing thickly in the attempt. Albedo remained too close in touching, but nothing in him could bring himself to push the elder away. "If I'm Rubedo's death sentence?"
Rubedo had claimed no different--with another phrasing but the meaning was clear. Still, the eldest had done little to support his claim. And Albedo could be the same. Wouldn't the rejection be complete, then? Something in Nigredo hardened at the thought, and his grip tightened in his brother's. "Even with that, you really want me to stay?" he asked quietly. "Then, I can. Until you don't need me anymore."
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The boy fell silent, memories pressing and pulling apart in ways too convoluted to fully define. There were facts, clear and simple, and those before he had clung to, kept to, and raised up as stability when nothing else remained. He had been abandoned, he had had a brother raise hand against him, and without words declare himself to be the murderer of a person who existence encompassed Albedo's world. That existed as something concrete, simple and clear, and it had only recently shifted in ways too subtle and straightforward to count.
His twin's actions. The acts of strangers in different ways. The sensations given by the youngest--and his actions, unexpected as well. And the conclusion to be wrought? Things weren't as simple as they once were. And was all that truly remained.
He couldn't speak. He couldn't bring himself to speak.
{It's not... about not caring,} he gave painfully, sensations warring within him obviously. He wanted to break into fresh tears. {It's not about not caring. Everything... got ruined. Everything fell to pieces. And I just--}
"I want to go home." Albedo started crying again, free hand wrapping about Nigredo's waist. Not the Yuriev Institute, but the sensation before. Before U-DO and the Executioner, before immortality and Sakura, back to when they were something that passed for happy and were always together. He didn't want any of this. "I don't want you to go away."
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Still, Albedo seemed only to cry more. Like he had already lost Nigredo, whose insides squirmed uneasily in the affect.
"I won't go away," he said, tired. "You won't be alone unless you want to be." Until. Unless. Exceptions had to be established in the likelihood of rejection. He knew everything could again change later on; he wasn't naive enough to believe anything else.
Such as the upcoming stipulation. Those outside of their family might have taken the statement in literal terms. Nigredo, however, had access to another source. Therefore, the return was in reference to the meaning that came through the link. "But we can't go back."
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He took in a shuddering breath, inhaling more of Nigredo's shirt than actual air. Under soap and cloth, there existed a scent of familiarity, and he clung to that, taking that, desiring that above all else. Nothing else existed except for that security, and breaths calmed to a degree, evened if only slightly. Desperation remained, harsh and ragged, an allowance not afforded to the situation. "I don't want to be! I don't want to be alone. Why do you think I came to you that night?"
When Rubedo had hurt him, harmed him, when the link was found to be correctly severed, and all that remained was a little brother. A little brother who agreed. To take him somewhere else. And also. "Why do you think I was always near you, too?"
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Between this and everything else, it no longer held sense to Nigredo. Though, perhaps that had always been the case with this brother.
He stared down, eyes fixed on the color violet. The touching, the sensation of breaths against his shirt were not registered. Everything else was ignored in favor of waiting questions and a constant attribute. "I don't know," he spoke quietly. "How am I supposed to know? You attacked me the day after that." The child swallowed, visibly agitated by the thought. "Maybe you were always there, but you never seemed to like my presence most of the time."
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And was it so strange that Albedo was upset at Nigredo's current actions, with that in mind? Things were clear--now solidified with words. Nigredo's own wanting at his own demise.
But even as a muffled sob escaped him, Albedo would answer to the situation before pressing at wounds. What was simple to him, cause and effect, fled before his brother's logic. And it wasn't so clear, was it? At the time, all had been shifted, passed on true reasons to entertain something that tread on an excuse. Because it hadn't been about Rubedo then. It hadn't been about him at all.
Except in the ways that Albedo's wanderings that night had led him elsewhere, because of a loss.
All of this was mulled over and considered in a minute's time. Still curled around his sibling, he looked up, meeting green with violet and keeping. "You rejected me." In a way that stung more than most. He hesitated, then continued. "You couldn't accept me. You didn't want me." The hand on his brother's moved to tighten and then froze instead. A reminder to step carefully, speak quietly, move as if in death. "...Not like I am, right? You don't want me like this. Not after what happened."
The stable tone dispersed, the rest unnecessary, spoke in a rush. "Because I'm wrong, unnatural, tainted. And you don't want me. Neither of you do."
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