giftsofglory | Time of Transition

Mello stopped fighting for now, suddenly sapped of energy.

"Just shut up. I hate talking to you."

"I won't. You've given me no incentive to do so."

He was too tired to keep repeating himself, so Mello was the one who stopped talking instead, shooting him a dirty look. The conversation, if it was that, was obviously over.

And nothing was accomplished. He could only hope Nakago was smart enough to win this if Sephiroth carried out on his threat. Mello believed he was. The only problem was that he was no longer even sure if his lover had given up on him... He must've, after so long. It didn't make sense.

Satisfied with the unspoken concession, he calmly, quietly, settled into petting his hair.

Mello stayed still, obviously ignoring him. His breathing was still a little harsher with pain, but he ignored that too.

Sephiroth would do as he said. Or at least try. Mello was pretty sure of that; the guy was obviously clinically insane at best. It was a long time before he spoke again, trying to think of a way to stop him.

"You shouldn't bother," he finally said softly. "There's no point. He's not looking for me."

"That doesn't matter. You want him to."

"I did. But if he obviously doesn't give a fuck, I don't anymore. I don't need him," Mello snarled, and he wasn't even certain himself if he meant it or not.

"You don't truly believe that, if you did, you wouldn't fight me like you do."

"I would. That's what you don't understand," he hissed. "I'm not fighting for someone else. This is fucking personal."

"Then why would my touching you have drawn his name?"

He froze.

"What?"

"I know his name, because you -told me-." He smiled,kissing his temple.

Mello moved his head quickly away, suddenly understanding. He wouldn't have said it in his right mind... but he barely remembered the days he was so out of it from the pain-not-pain and the injuries.

"I told you I was fucking delirious!" he protested.

"I knew it was your honest want my detective. I could feel it since I was maintaining a light touch to check on your physical condition."

"What was my honest 'want,' you freak?" Mello didn't in the least appreciate being told Sephiroth had been in his mind again either.

"TO be touched by the person you thought I was. You were only mildly disappointed when I firmly corrected the misconception."

He wanted to argue that he hadn't known better, but he knew it would be pointless. At the same time, if what Sephiroth said was true (he had a sinking suspicion that it was), he rather thought he'd have been greatly disappointed and shocked. He... couldn't really remember. At the same time, he knew that he would have been expecting his lover, not this psychopath, if he was upset and sick.

Mello sighed.

"It doesn't matter anymore. Just leave him out of this."

"I would have, had you not insisted in including him."

"I didn't!" Mello argued, almost desperately. "I didn't know what was happening!" He couldn't believe he was defending himself by pleading incapacitated, he'd have hated himself for it normally-- but in this case, not only was it true, it was the only thing he had.

He shook his head slowly. "No. No, you looked right at me and called me him, I won't ever accept that. Even I respect you enough to never call you by anyone else's name."

"Don't you even fucking realize that it was you who put me in that state?! As if I'd ever make a mistake like that!" He was at a loss, and he was still trapped against Sephiroth's body, trying to get him off.

He retightened his grip with a sigh. "If you hadn't kept pushing when I was already upset I would not have snapped and hurt you. Lestat is a very sensitive topic to me." There was a fleeting thought that that name would not be utterly unfamiliar, considering the havoc he'd created in his passing, the destruction that came to be associated with that in underground circles. But there was nothing to say that the thought was worth considering either, not so many years later.

So his name was Lestat. Mello frowned, squirming a few more moments before giving up, mostly because he wanted to be able to think past the pain that got a lot worse when he struggled like that.

He knew the name, of course, but hadn't actually been on a case involving him. Somehow, he thought it made sense it'd have been that guy, of all people. Crazy as Sephiroth, he was sure.

"I don't care. You don't understand a thing about logic, but we could trace cause and effect all day. And you're fucking terrible at accepting responsibility." Mello glared up at him, and kept pushing despite everything.

"Maybe it's because there's something else you don't want to accept responsibility for. Do you blame yourself for his death?"

"Every day." There wasn't even the slightest bit of hesitation in that. "So clearly, that's not it."

"No, that's exactly it. You blame yourself, but you still can't accept it." His tone was harsh. He spoke from experience.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject