Never End [Closed, In Progress]

[geasszero]

WHO: Lelouch and C.C.
WHAT: Seeking the hidden.
WHERE: The Lamperouge Household.
WHEN: Day 365, late evening.

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[geasszero]

As she opened the door, looking at him with such concern, with such wide, guileless eyes, Lelouch paused for a moment. C.C. would never and had never looked at him with such eyes. No, were she worried about him, never would her eyes show that, but instead they would be defiant, they would be strong. She offered him what comfort he needed when he needed it, nothing more, nothing less. It was who she was. This one, this... girl was different. She cared, certainly, but why? Because he was her "Master"? Because he was kind to her? Because that was who she was? And, perhaps, in her ignorance, she could give more kindness than C.C. ever could have, more tenderness... But only if she never knew, for such knowledge, such weight, such darkness would shatter so fragile a thing as her. His violet gaze met her wide tawny eyes and he resisted the urge to murmur his goodbyes to her now, instead moving past her, descending down into the basement, quietly bidding her to follow him to her doom, his eyes resigned and sad.

"Follow me."

When they reached the bottom, he took a chair, bidding her with a gesture to sit on the bed, violet eyes watching her, the way she moved, the way she looked, the expressions flashing across her face, and even the way she spoke and sounded, if she spoke at all in response to his words and movements. If he had his way, she would be gone soon, another on the pile of the dead, unmourned, once the true C.C. emerged... unmourned, save for him. He owed her this much.

[the_pizza_witch]

She had to swallow the urge to shiver, going down after him. It was normally cold in the basement at night, but it was more than a physical chill this time. There was an uneasiness in the air, and she could feel it, although she didn't know what it was or that it was any danger to her. The Master came down to talk to her often, after all.

Once they reached the bottom, she moved unquestioningly to her bed and sat down, watching him expectantly, curiously. She knew better than to ask him any questions now, whereas any other time she would offer to fetch him something to eat, something to drink, anything at all to make him comfortable, since he was taking the time to come down.

[geasszero]

The warlock stared at her for a moment longer, locking the memories into place. Soon, she should be dead, if all went according to plan... but there was the small consolation that she would not be forgotten.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled slowly before exhaling again, fixing his mask firmly in place. There was no one and nothing left for him to depend on. There was no room, now, for weakness, and when his eyes opened once more, there was none in his gaze as it fixed on her, his voice echoing in her mind with a single word, neither loud nor soft as he stretched the limits of the power of both the crystal and the emerald to their limits, encompassing every thought flickering across her conscious mind with his.

"C.C."

[the_pizza_witch]

She let out a small, quiet gasp as the voice pierced her mind, reaching past her and down towards that other self, the jumble of emotions and images and memories beyond her years and understanding, to that place of floating portraits and painted memories that rested deep within the witch's mind.

C.C. let her eyes slip closed, resigning herself with a sigh to the connection, knowing that it was time, now, for this talk, and that there was no way for her to run from him, with the power she had given to him in the emerald, and the power he had in the crystal.

Lelouch.

[geasszero]

The warlock was surprised when the telepathic connection led him deep, deeper into her mind than he had ever anticipated. He had expected that there might be some flicker of her deeper consciousness at the name, something that he could focus on and slowly draw out; he had never anticipated that he would be drawn completely into the space of her mind. But as he opened his eyes and saw the witch, not the maid, but the witch before him again, he reminded himself that, as always, she was a woman full of surprises.

He took in their surroundings at a glance, not letting a single detail of his true emotions flicker across his face, his eyes, his voice, or his body, a gallery, perhaps through which she had watched the goings on around her, perhaps through which she had viewed her past.

Eventually, though, his eyes returned to regard her again, and carefully, searching her for any hints as to what, precisely, was going on.

It's been some time.

[the_pizza_witch]

She couldn't say she knew what to expect. After their conversation by the ridges, she been watching him, keeping track of the times he brought her to his room, showed her the helmet, showed her the mark of the Geass, showed her her old clothing. She had known, somewhere, that he would miss her, that he was, in some way, dependent on her, but she hadn't expected him to withdraw so much, to reject so completely the allies and friends he'd made in this world. Lelouch could still surprise her after all.

The witch focused on the paintings, watching them move in their silent procession with the bored, passive mask the maid lacked. She could feel him watching her, but she didn't want to meet his eyes, not yet.

Yes.

[geasszero]

It was a game between them, just as it always was, just as infuriating, just as intricate, just as merciless as before, neither of them giving the other anything more than was absolutely required by the unspoken rules, each attack and defending with words and implications and insinuations and gestures and looks and everything, everything but the whole, unadulterated truth.

It would have been refreshing, relieving, if it weren't so maddening.

He could ask her, "What did this?" He could let her have control, he could let her weave her half-truths just as he did, leaving him to puzzle out the rest. He could confront her, he could pin her to a wall with his silver tongue and interrogate her with barbed words... But what use would such a blatant assault do? No.

It was the same as always, subtle and winding.

Who is she?

[the_pizza_witch]

She moved to a picture, of a faraway and ancient village, dirt roads and milling children, happy and playful and free. And one, small and quiet, holding the hand of a tall, slender woman dressed in black and white.

Myself, she answered.

He was taking this slowly, being careful. She couldn't blame him. After what she had done after their last conversation, it was no surprise that he was being wary around her, and it wasn't as if this was entirely new to them.

They were always like this. Convoluted and complex and frustrating, never straightforward, never honest. She had to confess, she'd missed playing word games with him. Teasing him, taunting him, flustering him. But the hiding... the pretense and the acts, the misconceptions - those, she could live without. And it was a strange bit of irony that she escaped them by employing them herself.

[geasszero]

For a split-second, surprise flickered across his features, then his eyes flickered to the painting she was looking at. A woman, and beside her, a small, slightly scared-looking child with green hair and sad eyes.

So. That was what she had been. So very long ago. He knew she was old, that she had lived through much, and yet... it somehow seemed incongruous, seeing the witch she was now, and looking back on the maid who had lived with them these past few weeks, and thinking of them as the same person.

Perhaps he would not be the first to kill that abused, innocent girl who still remained, waiting, outside of their consciousness.

Yet it had confirmed nothing to him, nothing of what he had wanted to know, of whether she had done this to herself, or whether another had done it to her.

Nunally will miss her. But she has missed you more.

And perhaps he felt the same, but if he did, now was not the time to admit that to himself. Not when there was still a chance that she had betrayed him, had left him alone of her own volition, not when missing her, missing either of them at all would be a weakness he could ill afford.

[the_pizza_witch]

It surprised her too, sometimes, seeing herself act that way again. She hadn't been innocent in so long - hadn't been naive and curious and happy in so long. And yes, she thought, as she looked at the portraits and mused upon the self she'd lost all those centuries ago, she had been happy. She had had, at least, that light, child's bliss that every person was born with, that no circumstance could prevent but with the slow passage of time. ~~~. She had missed her, too, she realized.

She reached out and pressed fingertips against the painting, her skin drifting along the link of the two hands, young and old, girl and woman. What she had wanted so badly, the connection, the love... who would want it? Who would willfully regress, back to weakness and vulnerability and pain, when it was so much easier to advance into a higher plane, where nothing survived but the magic and time of gods? Eternity. It was a hollow, empty word. But it was an appealing emptiness, compared to some things. At least, that was what she thought she had believed.

I never thought I could miss her.

[geasszero]

I can't say I'm surprised you do.

He wasn't, because, in a way, they were the same. They had lost their innocence, their chance at that simple, pure happiness of ignorance. He had been the more fortunate of the two, yes, in that his childhood had been far happier, playing alongside Nunnally and Euphie and even Clovis and Cornelia.

And, yet, he had to wonder, what had changed her so? What had made her from that simple, innocent, child-like girl into this?

He knew all too well what had ended his childhood, his innocence: the slaughter of his mother before his eyes, the crippling of his beloved sister, and the indifference of his arrogant father. And he knew what had made him a warlock, what had made him what he was, something far darker and more complex than most who had lost their innocence-- the power of the Geass that she had given him.

He missed, sometimes, that past. That innocence, and even who had had been before gaining the Geass. And yet, looking back, he knew he wouldn't have changed his choice, for better or for worse, in spite of all its consequences. He had chosen to accept her contract, and he would again in a heartbeat, in spite of the warlock it made of him.

._. icon fail.

[the_pizza_witch]

She turned to face him. She could feel his curiosity, his uncertainty, his desire for knowledge, for answers. She wasn't entirely sure she had them. Not coherently, not in words that she could or would say to him, not now. They were here, certainly, in pictures, in frames, in long lines of memories that stretched towards eternity, hidden in the peeling paint. It was a matter of choosing the right line to follow into the past, recent or distant.

But she would not find them for him. She would not spoon feed him, would not guide him, not here. She had come here to hide from him, after all. She had come to erase the answers and veil the truths that she had found too painful to be worth anything. She would not make this easy for him, despite the efforts he had already taken to seek her out and confront her. That was what a witch was, wasn't it? And that was what she was.

Why?

[geasszero]

Because being her was simpler. Because being her was easier.

He watched her levelly as she turned to face him again, his violet gaze again searching her own even if she chose not to look directly back at him. He had come this far to get her, and he wasn't going to give her up easily... but he wasn't about to make this easy for her, either, not if she was going to struggle against him like this. He was going to give her nothing she didn't have to work for.

But that won't last.

[the_pizza_witch]

She raised an eyebrow at him, challenging him, questioning him. He had come to bring her back, then. But why? To support him? To be his ally, his accomplice again? To be the one to catch him when he fell, to rebuild him when he broke, only to see him off and elsewhere when he didn't need her? She admitted it was selfish of her to expect something more.

But what else was she to expect, when he had spoken of partnership and companionship and trust, when he had called her by name and said to her - she let out a breath, shuddering with the hint of a laugh.

Oh?

[geasszero]

His expression showed no amusement, no pity, no disdain. Only an impassive watcher, now, as she so often had been for him, giving away nothing, reason in the face of emotion, the Devil's Advocate. Just as it had not been her place to be liked, not her place to be comforting a moment before he needed it, nor was it his to try to make amends with her now. He was here for a reason, and he would not forget that... but she was, too. And perhaps, by being her for once, and by her being him, they would understand each other a little better, for better or for worse.

She can't say like this forever. Even if I protect her. Even if Laguna protects her. She's immortal, because she's you, and in the end, she'll find everyone and everything she knew turn to dust. Bit by bit, she'll become you. And then where will you have to hide?

[the_pizza_witch]

Hmm.

She studied his eyes for a moment before turning back to the paintings. She could watch them for hours on end, watch the progressions and repetitions. Yes, in the end, one way or another she would return. She had known that already. It wasn't so much the act of returning, in and of itself, to her as what she saw when she did, when it would be when she did.

By then, I may not have to.