streetwalkers | YAN-PARA au master post

So what? You just decided it was fine? That I would let years pass and never contact you once?!

[He's conflicted -- he could kill Cu here and now. He wants to, even. He wants to snuff out the life that dares not to understand him.

But that isn't his job. And if Cu dies, he'll never be able to see him again. All the voices in his head are arguing, and it makes his head ache and his vision blur.]

I won't let yo go. I'll never-- I won't be alone anymore!

I felt bad! I don't know, I didn't think that much of it.

[He takes in a few deep breaths, and FUCK, that hurts.]

I don't know what the fuck happened, but you can't have me around if you want to turn me in, you know that right?

[Suddenly he smiles, bright and manic. His hands loosen a little, as his emotional train is completely derailed.]

Oh! No, you're wrong. This is a test.

You stabbed me! How is that a test?

It's my test. To let you go, or to kill you... failure. To deliver you alive, success. I will ask a reward for success.

...that's fucking sick, you know that?

Oh, yes. I'm very ill.

[It might be hard to tell if he's agreeing or being sarcastic -- the truth is that he does know, he's simply bitter about the fact.]

Could you imagine this otherwise? Me, slaughtering innocents and kneeling for the Master who orders it? I'm the Blood Rose, you know. I'm sure you've heard the stories.

[That's a bit much to handle -- sure he's heard the stories, and it's fucking hard to forget them afterwards. Bloody assassinations, whole neighborhoods wiped out, all the work of some mad, indiscriminate mercenary. Cu can't wrap his mind around the idea of Diarmuid being the one behind it all - not the Diarmuid who'd barely allow him to take junk without asking in their childhood.]

No...I can't.

Well then, there you have it. Anyone would crack under enough pressure, right? I used to say I'd never give in and kill anyone, but so much has changed. Now it feels too good to hurt and be hurt...

Anyway I know I'm crazy, but you're the one that abandoned me.

[As much as he wants to argue, he is the one who left.

He didn't think of it as abandoning Diarmuid at the time -- he wanted to take him along. He would have given anything to do that, but he wasn't going to force his friend to give up his family and his home to go be a crazy smuggler.

Whole lot of good that did.]

I told you, I came back for you.

[Another mood change, as he suddenly switches to venomous again.]

You made a token effort. You assumed everything was fine. It wasn't.

...well I can't do anything about that now, so get over it.

[He snaps, angry, because as far as he's concerned, "not looking hard enough" and "fucking with someone and then stabbing them" aren't exactly equal slights]

[He goes silent for a moment, staring at Cu with an expression very much as if he's just been slapped in the face. Then his smile comes back, spreading slowly and undeadily across his face while at the same time his eyes fill up with very much heartfelt tears.]

That's a joke, right? To just "get over it"... That's impossible. I'd have to forget I love you.

[Fuck. Fuck, no, we are not doing this. Not now. Not when he's stuck here, unable to ignore it away.

Maybe that confession would have been okay not even an hour ago. Maybe he would have grinned, ruffled Diarmuid's hair, and told him he didn't know if he could get it up for Diarmuid, but they'd always be like brothers. It would have been okay. He's sure it would have been okay.

Now it just makes him angry, because "I love you" doesn't make this better.]

It's not a fucking joke, though I wanna ask you the same fucking thing.

Don't look at me like it's my fault.

[He doesn't know what he wants to do right now. One voice wants to smash Cu's face in and crack his ribs open. One wants to walk away and never look at him again. One wants to curl up and die. There are entirely too many "if"s and "but"s and "maybe"s swirling around in his head, but Cu's anger is like a siren, shrill and piercing and warning of danger.

He knows he's mad. He knows why he's mad, too. His heart just couldn't take the path he was forced onto, and it shattered. But there's still the old him there, spun about and frightened and chasing the pieces.]

It's not my fault. I never wanted this.

Yeah, I figured. It's not really you. I can tell.

[He's trying to bite back the anger, because he knows it'll make things worse, but it's hard and the pain is making his logic more than a little fuzzy.]

But you still fucked with me, and there's still a fucking hole in my side, so real-Diarmuid should do something about that.

I am me. I'm just--

[He has to search for the right words. How is he supposed to sum up all the things that are wrong and all the things he feels and wants and fears? Nothing makes sense, and it's visible in the way his eyes dart around the room that for him it's a real undertaking to sort through the blaring noises and confusing pictures he knows aren't real.]

...splintered?

[He's not sure that fits either, but it's the only word that comes to mind that he's sure fits into the sentence in a "coherent" way.]

The bits don't fit together. It tastes funny. I get lost a lot.

[There's another pause. His hands curl in the bottom of his shirt, and he chews his lip.]

It's only a little hole... If I wrap it will you stay with me?

[Will he stay? He doesn't know -- it hurts, feeling his trust in Diarmuid get so badly fractured, but--

But, well, he's still there, at least a little bit, and most people wouldn't be worth the effort, but Cu knows he's already fucked up once.

He pauses, frowning.]

Not if that means being locked up.

You have to be. I can't let you go.

[Even though one of the louder voices would really like to, it's simply not something he can do, and he wishes Cu would understand that.]

You don't want me to be punished, do you?

[God fucking damn it, Diarmuid]

And sitting here and letting them drag me off isn't being punished?

You can't imagine what they'd do to me if I let you walk away. If you're in prison you'll be safe. I'll kill anyone that hurts you.

[The last line is delivered with a fierce sincerity. He reaches for Cu's hands, just trying to hold them and make a connection, and gives a feverishly desperate pleading expression.]

Please. Don't leave me again. She'll let me see you if we're good...

So running isn't an option, huh?

I wouldn't let you.

...Oh.

[Hesitant, taken aback, he instinctively pulls his hand back]

[A frustrated noise escapes him, and he slams the heel of his hand into Cu's stab wound. It isn't that he hates him. It's just that he's angry and confused and doesn't know how to articulate the jumble of feelings except to lash out.

You can't go! I told you, just-- Listen-- Or don't, I don't make sense anyway. I just don't want you to hate me!

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