Paying what's owed ---

[winged_desire]

Himeros.

Q and Anteros.

Mum and Dite --- and that mangy mutt-thing.It was mess. A fucking mess. A downward spiral with nowhere else to go but down, down, down. Trite sayings of "There's nowhere else to go but up" given with bright smiles and in a singsong voice. They made him retch at the ridiculousness of it. They were entirely false. There was

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[winged_desire]

"Let you go? Let you go and then what? Let you go only to have you never come back to me?"

Breathing harshly and grip tightening on Unrequited's wrists, "I let you go so you would return to me! But do you? Do you?" He shook Anteros roughly and then stopped.

Pothos' eyes blazed and despite Anteros returning to him his virility (accursed, wretched thing and maybe Unrequited was right on all he said before), he felt no Desire. CURSE DESIRE. May Hades take him when his kin already has!

All his Love had withered away into bitterness and hatred and anger and here he was punishing Anteros for it. Bastard. Coward. Fool.

Narrowing his eyes, Pothos pushed away from the recumbent form, thrashing, half-thrashing under him, scowling fiercely. "I do not want you. I do not want anyone. I deny all that I am, Anteros. Take my virility, take the Love you perceive that is still within me! Do your worst, Unrequited!"

He stood and spread his arms wide, bare before the dazed, stunned eyes taking in his naked figure. "Take what you want for there is NOTHING left!"

And then a dagger was in his hand.

[ant_eros]

He felt the hold tighten on his wrists and the words Pothos was saying were frankly scaring him into a panic attack. The walls around him were closing in and he involuntarily trembled under the weight and choked on his sobs fearful to say anything to his subjugator.

And then he was relieved of Pothos’ weight but paralyzed from fear for long enough to hear out Pothos’ tirade.

Catching sight of the dagger in Pothos’ hand he fearfully grabbed a letter opener off of the nightstand, not thinking rationally enough to grab for what he’d previously thought of being hidden away in the drawer.

”Don’t you---“

Through tears: “You’re crackers.”

A trembling hand pointed the object in his hand toward the other Pothos, “Quit it---”

[winged_desire]

Pothos could not even hear Anteros anymore, lost within his own thoughts and the demons that plagued them relentlessly.

Why? Why? Why? followed by Never, never, never until they blended together in this discordant harmony and he held his hands over his ears (dagger in his hand cutting his cheek but he barely noticed as drops of blood began to slide down his face), trying to shut away the noise, but it would. not. go. AWAY.

"STOP IT!"

His wings burst forth out in their splendor, there was this grayish-blue hue to them, almost glowing but not quite. Himeros used to tell him that ---

"They look like your eyes."

"My eyes?"

"Yes. When you think too hard."

"I do not think too hard."

"You do. Especially when I am not with you."

"Then perhaps you should not leave me."

--- It no longer mattered what Himeros thought! It no longer mattered! Raising his dagger, a wing in hand, his hand plunged downwards and his wings were no longer the same color of his eyes when he thought too hard.

[ant_eros]

Watching Pothos he eased his way off his bed and grabbed a robe that had been hanging over a chair and climbed into it while keeping his eyes glued on the mad erote grateful that the focus was off of him.

He flinched when Pothos raised the dagger and shouted, but when he saw what Pothos was doing with it. Fuck!

Ichor gashed out of the gaping slit that Pothos was sawing into his wings, saturating feathers and trickling onto Anteros' white carpets.
Anteros dropped the letter opener and covered his mouth with his hands feeling definitely ill. Lifting up one of the blankets that Pothos' had managed to relocate to the floor Anteros approached him cautiously, "Pothos---Pothos?"

He didn't know how he managed to keep the fortitude to even approach this loon. He felt like he was going to have a nervous breakdown.

Was Pothos in some kind of catatonic trance? Couldn't he feel the fucking pain? "Pothos?"

[winged_desire]

There was no pain, no feeling, just this numbness that filled every pore of him. The aching emptiness that Anteros said would never hurt as much as pain but he could not even feel the pain. He could see the red, red, red blood against the backdrop of his wings, the bloodthick and warm as his hands became slippery with it, the tangy scent metallic filling his nostrils.

But nothing compared to the ever present numbness.

So he continued to plunge the dagger downwards, the blade slicing open the ever growing wound and his wings growing heavy, sagging towards the floor and all too soon he was half-kneeling, half-sitting with a pool of his own blood surrounding him.

Pothos could hear Anteros calling him and eventually, he looked up, dazed, brow furrowed, "What?"

[ant_eros]

Still somewhat shocked by this display of madness: "What are you doing?"

Perhaps that wasn't the most intelligent question he could ask since he could see what he was doing, "Why are you doing this?"

Stepping closer with the blanket held in front of him he extended a hand: "Give me the dagger..."

[winged_desire]

What was he doing? What was he doing? What was he doing?

Was it not obvious?

He plunged the dagger deep, till it was buried up to its hilt. "I am exorcising my demons," he replied, quite calmly and succintly. "Himeros always liked my wings. Thus, I will make them go away." It was so simple, really. He wondered why he never thought of it before.

He hated his wings.

"And they make me a creature of Love. I would rather not be one."

He pulled the dagger out, this awful squelching sound arising from it and he looked quizzically at Anteros. "Give you the dagger? Why? I am not yet finished." He nodded towards his not-so mangled wings.

[ant_eros]

Oh dear lord look what Pothos was doing to himself! Turning his head to cough when Pothos jammed the blade back into the shoulder of his wing, Ant felt faint. He couldn't stand to look at what this deranged erote was doing to itself and it took all that he could to stand looking at the kneeling creature.

Himeros liked his wings therefore Pothos was destroying everything Himeros liked about him? He thought sarcastically: Oh that makes perfect sense. His wasn't what love was about---this was some kind of sick obsession and if he could he would remedy this atrocity.

He wished he hadn't asked for the dagger, his fear rolling around in his gut as he beheld Pothos' gaze.

"Because you’re a bloody loon and you're maiming yourself. That's why! Want to go around for eternity with a disfigurement like Hephaestus or Proteus? All because you're an idiot!"

Finally remembering what was in his nightstand drawer he walked away from Pothos, laying the blanket at the foot of the bed and withdrew the holster from the drawer removing the gun from it and checking the chamber.

Turning and aiming the gun at Pothos he didn't hesitate pulling the trigger. The lead bullet projecting from and penetrating Pothos' chest, and immediately taking away his love for Himeros as Anteros willed it.

"Now," he paused, "Do you feel what you're doing to yourself yet?"

[winged_desire]

Maiming himself? Disfigured like Hephaestus or Proteus? An idiot?

They made no impact on him.

Pothos' eyes were on Anteros' form, shaking from fear and disgust (he did not care at all), his own hand holding the dagger loosely, poised over his feebly twitching wings. When Anteros aimed a gun at him, he just tilted his head, a confused smile lingering on his lips. "What are you going to do with that?"

He was about to say something else but ---

Numbness like he would never be explain and then the pain hit him. He dropped the dagger, doubling over as his wings seemed to be on fire.

Did he feel it? What did he not feel? What had gotten into him? His eyes were tearing as he bit his lip from crying out. He had done all this to himself! Maybe Anteros was right in taking his Love for Himeros away.

[ant_eros]

Examining Pothos in pain from afar he put the gun back in the holster and shut the drawer, replacing the ward over it.

Stepping forward he lifted the dagger, "You don't need this anymore," sending it to the protected room in his house.

Summoning a cold wet towel he leaned over and compressed it against the gash that was gushing blood still as queasy as ever and still somewhat fearful.

"You need someone to take a look at this."

[winged_desire]

He hissed when the cold compress tried to staunch the blood, pressing into the wound but he bit his bottom lip harder and bore it. He would have to bear it.

Pothos blinked away the tears he refused to shed and looked at Anteros in confusion. Why was the other erote helping him? Remembering past happenings, he fully expected to be tossed out on his rear.

Saying quietly, "Mum. Mum will take care of it." He resisted the urge to groan. His mother would surely yell at him for this --- for being so stupid.

"Anteros?" He waited till the erote looked at him. "I am sorry. I did not mean the apology then, but I do now. And all the things I said? Every hurtful thing? Those I did not mean. I just wanted to hurt you, for no other reason than you were there in front of me. It is no excuse, yes, but that was why I did it. And making you Yearn for me? I apologize for that, as well. I know how you dislike feeling so helpess and I used it against you."

Those were a lot of apologies. He was not used to the feeling. He would be soon though.

"Oh. And --- I am sorry for bleeding all over your carpet."

[ant_eros]

A second attempt at an apology? It sounded sincere, but was it? So much had happened here today and Pothos had wounded him on a few different levels if not traumatized him, but he still had compassion for the wretch.

Conjures some string and ties the towel in place. Quietly: "I don't know what to say. Ask me again later how I feel about it."

[winged_desire]

"Anteros?"

Licking his chapped, bruised lips, "Thank you. It is hard to explain what exactly I am thanking you for, but --- thank you. And I really am sorry. I meant to hurt you but only because I wanted someone to hurt with me." He smiled wanly, "The only thing I am good at is being cruel."

"I came here to punish you and have you return my virility. Instead, you give me back something far more important --- my sanity." Pausing (did he really mean to do this?), "Anteros, keep my virility and keep my Love. Perhaps I will ask for it back. Perhaps I will not. Only Time can tell." His smile was a little less rueful now, "And we have so much of it."

[ant_eros]

He was thanking him? It came as a surprise...
He wasn't expecting gratitude...

"I'm sure that is not entirely true Pothos."

Pothos made mortals yearn, and without that who would miss? Yearning made mortals who were missing or were lacking better people because of it. When loved ones were away for extended periods of time from their significant others, yearning was the glue that kept love intact by keeping their love from going elsewhere in their absence. Where would love be without yearning? Love certainly might not last in one place between two people for long if it weren't for keeping the desired one on their minds. However, there was a fine line between yearning and obsession and Pothos had crossed over and certain things must be kept in check for the sake of Love.

There was nothing else to do but end his suffering.

A lump caught in his throat and he found his fingers threading through Pothos' hair and pushing it out of his face, a look of understanding in his eyes before he exhaled deeply, shutting his eyes briefly and opening them to look past Pothos and eye the door to the bathroom.

Not saying another word, finding he couldn't he headed toward the destination his eyes held and once reaching inside he shut the door behind him and slid down its vertical length holding his head in his hands, cold and consumed with the grief of the entire ordeal and of taking someone's love.