TW: suicide, violence, fully unhinged Cass, brainwashed Elias just kind of continuing to be a psychopathic dickwad, etc. Sorry y'all.
Kiri was lying leisurely and reclined in a hospital bed, a gown wrapped around his shoulders, the open front giving way to the bandages that wrapped their way around his chest. His red hair was wrapped up in a bandana, as always, but fought against it as his gel had given way and pieces were hanging limply out of it. He looked tired, and it clearly bothered him to adjust as he sat himself up when he caught sight of me in the doorway, but his smile was wide and he waved me over.
"Hey, trooper," I told him. I could hear the smile. Thank God. "How's it hanging?"
I suddenly felt very emptyhanded, like I should have bought something, the way people do in movies. I didn't know the protocol for this either, admittedly. My family was indestructible, and I'd always been rather lacking in the friends department. The friends without healing blood, the ability to handle themselves, or a pocket full of recalibration tablets, anyways.
"Never better," he told me. It was only halfway a joke. He really was, I reminded myself, just that great of a guy. Even though it certainly hurt to do so, he tapped his chest a couple times. "Just a few scratches."
"I'm so happy you're alive," I told him honestly, my voice suddenly very shaky.
His own grin fell too. "Me too."
We looked at each other for a while. His eyes were nearly the same colour as Bakugo's, such a deep passionate red, but they couldn't look more different. Instead of explosions, they flared in heartbeats. Instead of charging at you, they welcomed you in, made you coffee, asked you to stay a while.
One of his hands patted a spot on the bed next to him. I hesitated. Hospitals were very strange about germs. I couldn't fall ill, but I certainly could contract them. I stood by the hand sanitizer for a while, wiping it over my arms, my legs, my face, swishing a bit of it, which had a distinctly sharp taste, similar to alcohol and Elias, around in my mouth before spitting into the trashcan. It made Kiri laugh, and that made it worth it. When I felt myself sufficiently clean, I decreased my density as much as I could and slid into the small spot he'd allotted for me next to him. I leaned my head onto his shoulder slowly, listening for a wince. Whether it hurt or not, he didn't show it.
"I'm so sorry," I told him.
"For what?" He asked. It was not a test. I didn't have to see his eyes to know that.
"Everything," I admitted.
"Cass, that was a difficult mission, for all of us," he then told me. I recognized the tone before the words. "You can't beat yourself up about it. Everyone has opponents that are out of their league. We all made it out alive. That's what matters."
Hearing his soft voice and the images he'd created of the previous day made me sick and broke my heart. He genuinely believed what he said too, but did I? Everyone has opponents that are out of their league, sure. Even me. I'm not so delusional that I don't know that. I just so very rarely encounter them on the battlefield.
But I knew something else, too. Getting out alive was not all that mattered. There certainly existed, beyond a shadow of a doubt, fates worse than death.
I was about to say I guess, or even, you're right, but we were both taken off guard by a figure appearing in the doorway, who greeted us both with, "What the fuck is going on here?"
His voice wasn't angry, I didn't think, but it was solid, and demanded an answer. I couldn't give one right away. My face must have done something impressively stupid upon seeing him, because I didn't do anything mindful to it, and Bakugo smiled, kind of, and then had to mindfully shake his head and morph his face back into an uneasy glare.
"Hey man," Kiri told him cheerily, waving him over. "You didn't have to come. I should be out of here in another day or two."
"Tch." I got out of the hospital bed and let myself onto a nearby chair as I watched Bakugo go around it to slide a book onto the table beside Kiri. "Here."
"Woah, thanks man!" Kiri reached for the book, lighting up immediately. His grin became even wider as he looked it over, front and back cover, taking a quick flip through the pages. He held it up to me so I could see, but it was in Japanese, and the pictures didn't tell me enough about what it might be about. I just grinned and nodded in response, holding one of my hands in a thumbs up. "I should get injured more often."
It was comforting, in a way, to watch them interact in this way that was so separate from me, but it also made me deeply uneasy. When the lens moved backwards, I only became more uncertain of what to say and how to behave. It didn't feel the way it once did, for the three of us to be together, it felt like three separate realities orbiting each other, only very occasionally interacting. It was perhaps a bit of a stretch, but I hated Elias ever more in this moment, for showing up at all and reigniting all of this fragmented insecurity.
Bakugo fell into another free chair, shrugging as he tilted his chin at Kiri. "What happened?"
"Ah," Kiri said, looking down at his own chest and he held a palm to it, as if rediscovering his injury all over again. "Nothing major." He was obviously downplaying and very much not interested in talking about it. I wasn't sure if that was better or worse. When his eyes found me, I knew. Worse. "What happened to you and Claeson? I saw him getting taken, but by the time we caught up to you guys, you were already gone."
"What?" Bakugo yelled. Well, almost. The hospital version of a yell. "You didn't tell him?"
"Tell me what?" Kiri asked.
"I told you," I hissed back at him, suddenly very defensive. "I came to visit Aizawa. I haven't been here that long."
"What happened?" Kiri asked, his voice becoming more worried, his eyes becoming more sad. I opened my mouth to answer, but I got cut off.
"Her and her useless fucking partner ditched you guys on purpose!" Bakugo said. It wasn't a yell, that was something, but it was not kind.
"He's not my partner!"
"That's the part you're choosing to focus on?"
"Stop!" I spat back at him. "I'm going to tell him!"
"What?" Kiri's eyes were wide now, his hurt on full display. "What do you mean?"
"Elias and I were dressed as each other," I started.
"You got taken?" I did not allow myself to find comfort in his shock, even though I really wanted to.
"She let herself get taken!" Bakugo cut in.
"Stop!" I hissed again. "You weren't even there!"
That struck a nerve, and I knew which one, because of the sharp words I'd almost tacked on at the end. You provisional license exam failure! I felt bad, but I didn't apologize. I may not understand the girlfriend and boyfriend protocols, but somewhere in a world I did understand, I was the hero, and he was the sidekick. I crossed my arms and continued to glare, daring him to give me the chance to finish that sentence. It shut him up. He crossed his own arms and turned himself as far away as he could from me while keeping Kiri in his eyeline, mouth clicks a plenty.
I told Kiri enough. This was one of those situations that was undoubtedly about enough. We ditched you. Yes, on purpose. Yes, we planned it. Yes, that's why Elias was so upset at the initial meeting. I did it to protect him. He comes from a powerful family. Family monarchy is complicated.
"And his powerful family could have her killed if they find out he's here or that he talked, so keep your fucking mouth shut," Bakugo then added at the end, once I'd paused enough. "Got it, Shitty Hair?"
Kiri's eyes didn't widen any more; I'm not sure it was possible. But they morphed from hurt into pure fear, the kind that kids had when they first started to learn about what a volatile place the world really was. "Why did you tell me, then?" His eyes were darting back and forth, asking the both of us. Fair enough.
"I trust you," I answered. I meant it.
"I'd rather her die than let her lie to you," Bakugo answered, arms still crossed, still facing away from me.
I'm not sure why, but that ignited the spot on my chest something furious that I felt all the way into my stomach. His words were harsh, and if I could see his face, I'm sure it would be the same, but I recognized that there was a complicated softness in it.
Aizawa came by the dorm building later to tell us that work studies had been suspended indefinitely, but we had the rest of the week off regardless. What he told me later was that this also extended to our private tutoring, which was fine by me. I knew what kind of hero he was. Eri needed him and he needed to be with her just as much. I hoped it would make him proud that after our lessons did resume, I could tell him that I was able to illuminate the spot on my chest on my own. Sometimes. If I imagined my heart exploding.
Midoriya eventually came home. He was grim and sad from Sir Nighteye's passing, so nobody pushed to talk about the mission any further. He also didn't approach me about recalibration. All of that was, selfishly, fine by me also.
Kiri got discharged too, and then everyone had made it back, the house was full, and the family was complete.
It seemed that Momo had done some damage control and brushed Demon's outburst off as insecurity and delusion. It was undoubtedly to protect me more than him, and I felt as if she shouldn't have bothered, but she did. She asked me about it in privately, did you really leave them all alone? But I told her no. I knew the kind of hero she was too. She didn't need to know. She loved me too much and too naively for me to trust her completely.
So, I spent the next few days in warm beds and warm showers and warm armchairs in the common space, half listening to surrounding conversations, half grasping for that sensation in my chest and trying with some success to direct it and move it around, not at all checking either of my phones. I'd run out of meals and Devil's Coffee, which I'd reluctantly admitted alongside an admission that I needed to go into town to find some food. Bakugo's face became deeply disgusted and he started shaking his head. Come with me, he told me. It was not a request, and it wasn't a selfless action either, so I let him carry me down to the communal kitchen of the dorm space, sensation tingling through my body all the while. I sat on the counter and watched him cook. Just watched. He didn't invite me to join him, and out of my own pride, I didn't offer to help.
It was fascinating to watch him move through the process. There were no instructions to be found. He did it all instinctually, habitually. Ingredients were laid out on a wooden slab and chopped up. The knobs on the stove were mindfully turned to a desired angle. He held a hand over the pan with a bit of oil in it. To detect heat, I assumed. It was interesting, but it also made me feel horribly small.
Check this out, I told him, lifting the pan and placing my silent hand right on the burner. Or jabbing one of the kitchen knives into my chest. His red eyes would flare briefly before he'd catch himself, laugh a little, shake his head, blonde spikes fluttering as his mouth clicks scolded me. Stop it, he'd tell me. No justification. Just stop it. I wasn't sure if it was because I was disrespecting the process of cooking, unknowingly tampering with the ingredients and tools, or if he was cockily worried I'd hurt myself, but because he kept having to fight off laughter before his scolding, I did not stop it. Check this out, I'd tell him, feigning pain while I dragged one of the knives back and forth on my palm. More soft laughter. Stop it.
More than once, one of our classmates would move through the door into the kitchen, to get something of their own I supposed, reminding myself every time that this was a communal kitchen, and upon finding us would stare at the two of us, wide eyed. Get out, Bakugo would tell them. No laughter. Get out. Red glare. Sure thing, Kacchan, Bakubro, Bakugo. What I came in here for wasn't all that important anyways. I'll come back later. Not once did anyone challenge him, and that too was a pleasure to watch.
I wanted to show gratitude by mindfully and slowly enjoying these meals, but it was easier said than done. I was just so hungry and eager to shove every bite into my mouth as fast as possible. He didn't seem to have any real qualms about that. He didn't expect it, and he didn't say anything that set me up to praise him either. It was like it was nothing to him.
"That was really good," I'd always tell him anyways.
"I know," he'd say back, indifferently.
Todoroki asked me at one point if Claeson and his partner had gone back home. I fucking hope so, Bakugo had answered. I understood, and agreed with, the sentiment. I answered with a shrug, but I knew they hadn't. We hadn't finished recalibration. They were lurking in the shadows, waiting for me to let my guard down so they could pounce on me like the lions used to do when I had my back turned. The only difference was that this time I dreaded it. Perhaps even feared it.
The time eventually came, five warm days after the mission. I knew it from the second I heard the front door swing open. We were all off, allowed to come and go as we pleased, so it could have been anyone, but the way it opened was forceful and the accompanying footsteps were heavy. More than that, there was only one set. Was this better, or worse? Again, I didn't know for sure. But I was ready for it.
"This had better be good!" I yelled the second I saw Demon turn into the room.
My face fell immediately. He was stone faced, a black Academy bag slung over his shoulder, and a long-handled shovel in his other hand.
He tapped the end of it on the floor solidly. "Come with me."
"Yeah." I rose from the armchair, and my body retreated into calm silence. "Okay."
He tossed the shovel at me after I took a few steps and I caught it with unwavering, silent strength. I heard Momo gasp and then audibly wince. She knew what this represented, and she was not a fan of this game.
"I'll be back later," I said, refusing to look back.
Call it what you will, but if Demon handed me a shovel, it didn't matter where he was leading me or what anyone else thought of it. I would go.
Game aside, it seemed that everyone else just wasn't a fan of Demon, and they erupted in their own protests.
"Miss Stronghold," Midoriya started, but then, as if unsure of where to go from there, didn't say anything else.
"Holy shit," Kaminari yelped. "Are you guys going to kill someone?"
For someone with such a clueless demeanor, Kaminari had his moments.
"Get up," Bakugo said. "We're going."
"Bakugo," Momo said, softly, frantically. "Don't."
"Come if you want," Demon contradicted her. "If you think you can handle it."
"Handle it?" Kiri asked in a low voice.
"I won't stop you," I told them. "But you guys won't like this."
"Don't, guys," Momo pleaded more. "This is really fucked up."
Demon turned and dipped into the hallway leading to the front door, and I followed without a second thought. I heard scrambling after us, but I still didn't look back. I was just very aware that there were three sets of footsteps aside from my own. Two sets were heavy, and one was falling in almost perfect time with my own. We walked through the darkened evening, but right before we reached the front gates, Demon's black hand dipped into the bag on his shoulder and pulled out a cream white dress and shoved it into my chest.
"You know the drill," he told me.
I did. I ducked into the woods and replaced my clothes with it. I could have just pulled it over, but he was clearly intending to grovel, so the least I could do was play along. I tossed my clothes back at him and he shoved them into the bag. We then kept walking towards the thick front gates of the school.
We hopped the wall that closed the UA campus away from the rest of the world, and we found ourselves on the near silent sidewalk on the other side. I was hit in the back by what I assumed was Demon's foot, my hands and knees hitting the pavement, the shovel hitting with a clang. I heard the dress rip too. Game on, I guess.
"What the fuck?" Bakugo protested, sparks starting, but Demon grabbed at him. I don't know what he grabbed, but the sparks stopped.
"If you come along, you follow the rules," Demon scolded him quietly. "Rules are: you shut the fuck up and you play along."
"Play along?" Kiri asked, uneasily. He did not receive an answer.
"Start walking," Demon told me. I raised to my feet, bringing the shovel with me, and I did.
I led the way, just like I always did. When we indulged in this ritual back at The Academy, he'd guide me with instructions, but he was a stranger in this city, and I couldn't imagine he'd done much exploring. When he stayed silent, I understood where he expected me to lead them. I headed towards the spot on the mountain.
There were some protests and questions, but after a harsh warning that we were not fucking around, they stopped. The mood became sombre, and I started wondering about what it was going to be like to die. I was crying when we got to the entrance to the woods, where Elias was standing, nothing but a pale blur illuminated by moonlight. Elias wasn't always invited to come along to play this game with us, but he was not a stranger to it either. This too, I did not know if it was for better or worse.
"Princess Stronghold," Elias greeted me coldly.
I mustered a terrified voice. It wasn't hard. I knew just what to think of. "Heir Claeson."
I led the four of them into the woods and up to the spot. When we arrived and I paused, it was only then that I was told harshly, not to turn around, and to keep walking. My eyes had adjusted fine in the forest's night, but I wondered how everyone else was faring. I wished, for the first time, that my vision was poorer. I knew where I was being led before I got there, and it was almost enough to make me sick.
"Stop." Demon's voice was cold as my feet found themselves at the foot of the cradle. He really was going all out. "Dig."
"Please," I started to plead.
"Dig."
"What the fuck is this?" Bakugo finally yelled over the sound of my shovel hitting the dirt, sinking into it, deepening the cradle into a grave. I cried harder.
"It's a game," Elias told him in a whisper. There was a loud mouth click of disapproval before Elias added, "Of sorts."
"A game?" He yelled back. "What the fuck kind of game is this?"
"A serious one," Demon spat back at him. His voice was not angry, just cold and harsh. I wondered how much he must have heard Elias speak it before he'd mastered it. "Shut the fuck up or leave. You pick."
I cried more. Maybe I should have fought harder. Made them listen to Momo. Neither of them should have to see this. This was our game, our ritual, our preparation of mourning and diseased attempt at bonding. Ah well, I then thought to myself. Too little, too late. So instead, I returned back to the game, kept digging, dirtying the white dress, and thinking more about what it would be like to die, right here, right now.
When I used to think about it before, I felt as if nothing would matter. So instead, I tried to imagine myself a ghost, an omnipresent narrator, floating through the world at will and watching everything go on without myself. That was enough of an attack of my ego to incite mourning. I thought that I would miss Elias and Demon. I knew I would miss Needles more. I would think about America. My dad would probably be deeply furious about my death, but he'd plan me some grand funeral and everyone on the California compound would come and most would pretend to cry. I thought about how annoying it was that I would never get to become head councilwoman or an Empress or an Heiress. Not being able to kill Esme's dad would annoy me the most.
Some of those things were still relevant, but most were not eliciting the same reaction this time around. I could see that a lot more had changed that I'd realized.
First, I thought about Momo. That was enough to blur my vision all on its own. I hoped she would miss me at least half as much as I'd miss her. I didn't let myself think it too long, but I wondered if she would feel unburdened by not having me around anymore.
I would miss Midoriya and his notebook scribbling, and his horrifying fighting and I would mourn that I would never get to see the monster I knew he would become.
I would miss Todoroki and his sly comments and mourn the fact that I would never get to see how happy he made Momo or to kill him for failing to do so.
I'd miss the rest of the lunch table group and the common space group.
I'd miss Neito like a limb.
I'd miss Aizawa and his strong coffee and his indifferent, scolding protection and mourn the fact that I'd never be able to really tell him how much I appreciated him sticking his neck out for me even though I proved time and time again how little I deserved it.
I thought about Kiri and our morning training and coffee dates and seeing the world from his shoulders. He would miss me for sure. I would miss him more than anyone.
Fine, you caught me. That's a lie. But the truth was a door I couldn't bear to open. I didn't even let myself try to think about it.
I heard Demon's heavy footsteps approach me, and over that, drumming through my skull, was the sound of my own heartbeat. "That's enough."
"You don't have to do this," I pleaded back, waist deep in the simulation. I clutched my hands around the shovel handle shakily, but not tightly.
"You know I do," he told me as his black hang lunged around me to the shovel.
I tried to pull it back, but he got a grasp on it and I let it go. I tried to reach back for it, slowly and pathetically, the way I would if I was just a regular girl, fragile and terrified and undoubtedly about to die. Demon pulled the shovel back and smashed the head of it into mine with a deafening clang. I fell back into the grave I'd just dug and closed my eyes.
"There," Demon said, with an air of finality to it. "She's dead."
"Oh my God," I heard Kiri whisper, as if he was choking on the words.
"What. The. Fuck." Each word fell like an avalanche onto the forest floor.
"Here lies Princess Cassiopeia Stronghold," Elias then said, appropriately respectfully and mournfully. "Does anyone have any parting words? Confessions and warm sentiments welcome."
"What the fuck is wrong with you guys?" Bakugo asked, yelling now. This question too, did not receive an answer beyond what seemed like an eternity of wind filled stillness.
"I'll go," Kiri finally said, taking a sharp inhale.
"Eij!" Bakugo yelled. "What the fuck is wrong with you? We're not doing this shit!"
"What are you acting so high and mighty for?" Demon asked him. "You almost had to."
That comment rang through the forest like a gunshot, summoning deep silence with the weight of it. Bakugo's breathing remained stressed, but it got further away as he backed off. I heard Kiri crouch down at my side and I tried my best to be still, because the tears that had continued to fall only intensified.
"Cass, you were the sister I never had, and you're the manliest girl I've ever met." He paused to swallow hard. I wondered if I really did look dead. He took a sharp inhale and whispered, "I'm going to miss you like crazy, dude."
"Lovely," Elias praised.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Bakugo whispered in harsh Japanese.
"She's not really dead," Kiri said back. I fought the urge to laugh.
"My liege," Elias started, in Swedish.
"Tch."
"Agreed," Demon scoffed. "This game isn't some sick mind fuck fest for you two."
"That is not what I'm doing," Elias countered calmly.
"You'd use English if you weren't," Demon scoffed back.
"Have some respect, guys," Kiri said. I had to be mindful not to smile. "We're at a funeral."
This erupted an entire symphony of mouth clicks and scoffs that Kiri continued to hush. As the forest fell back into reluctant silence, I heard the unmistakable sound of his leather quirk proof glove resting on the fabric of his peacoat. He did not bend to Demon's will.
"You took a chance on me when nobody else would, and it was an honor to know you."
Fuck.
"You gave me my chance at a normal life, and I hope I get the chance to repay you one day," Elias continued. "Whether I am your sidekick or not, you will always be my hero. Thank you for everything."
And then, more silence filled the air. But even with my eyes closed and my body silent, I could sense that jungle cat again, lurking just in the shadows, waiting to pounce on me.
Elias sensed it too, it seemed, because his soft voice said, "Let's give them some room."
There was shuffling. Some footsteps were approaching me, and most were moving away. Demon crouched down too, on the other side of me, the one I'd left the pile of dirt on. He sat, his breathing uneasy, and he started to toss handfuls of dirt onto my body. I could hear it against my skin and the satin of my dress. I could smell in right close to my face, figuring he must be tossing handfuls to cover it.
Yikes. This wasn't going to be good.
"Needles killed himself, Nova," Demon said.
This. This was what dying must feel like.
I heard the muscles of my body clench against the dirt, and that stunned me just as much as the confession. I was overwhelmed. My body, without my being able to see it, moved. My brother, without my being there to keep him safe and sane, had chosen a final escape, the same idea I had been occasionally entertaining when everything really fell apart. I then wondered, if I had told him how I'd been feeling, and we could have shared that desperation to rid ourselves of The Academy and all the tar it filled our lungs with, would things have been different? Could I have saved him? Would he have come with me if I'd asked? Because if I thought even for a second that he would have, I would have.
"It was almost both of us. After you left, he fell apart. Everything fell apart. The plan was to take some fucked up defense mission and just," he paused to make some kind of sound that was halfway between a gunshot and a slice. "But a couple days before our mission tour started, I woke up and he was gone. I don't know where he went or what he did. Nobody ever found him. He wrote me a note. Here, you can have it." I heard a pause and movement. Hands were folding paper carefully and respectfully, and I heard it fall onto the dirt on my chest. "I felt like I should have gone through with it too, but I'm selfish," there was another pause for a long inhale and an equally lengthy sigh. "And I'm a coward. So, there you have it. I killed him, just not in the way that you think I did." Demon let out an exhale through his nose that sounded like a wave crashing into the rocks of the shore. "Just know I'm sorry. About all of it. Tell him that when you see him, would you? I would, but we all know where I'm going. Take good care of them up there."
My eyes shot open, and there was a lot of dirt covering my face. I tried to exhale and blink it away, but it was only of limited success. This time, I could not see my body, and it would not move. I tried to picture my heart exploding to shove some sensation into my arms, but it did not come. I started coughing, and Demon's hands reached for me and pulled me out of the cradle and back into the woods.
"She lives," Demon announced to them.
"It's a miracle," Elias said back, his voice no longer mournful.
I spat the last of the dirt onto the forest floor and reached back into the cradle for the note. Once I got it into my hands, once I saw the blurred scribbles of faded, frantic writing, I held it folded and away from me. My eyelids fell and for a few seconds I stayed like this, trying to muster up the courage to finally read it. I knew I'd definitely cry, most likely puke, maybe even die. I knew it would destroy me. Finally, I decided I was doing myself a kindness by postponing the inevitable, unfolded it, and forced myself to register the words.
Thank you for everything. I'm sorry for everything.
I have always loved you, and I always will.
It doesn't need to be both of us. Don't worry about me. Don't look for me.
I'll be alright. I'm going to be with Needles and Nova.
Go to him, Demon. Be selfish. Be happy.
You deserve it.
Your friend,
Pins
I read it, holding it out in front of my face where the tears couldn't hit it, because they were coming something furious and turning my dress pale and sheer and the dirt dark and molten, over and over and over again. This felt like the gloves did, like something he'd touched and left behind before he crossed over and went home. This, I realized, was what heartbreak felt like. What being stabbed felt like. I wanted to be heartbroken for him.
I wanted to, but I wasn't. Because he died thinking he was going to be with me. Not only did I know exactly what he'd meant by it, but I knew where he'd gotten the information, and I was fucking livid. I waited patiently for my rage to take over, to lull me into silence, for my vision to become clear, and then I folded the note up and put it off to the side where it would be safe until I could retrieve it.
"Cover me, please," I said in Japanese.
In my peripheral, they were both looking at me, and both gave me a nod. Before Elias could sense anything was amiss, or petition Demon for his protection, I'd grabbed him and slammed his body coldly and carelessly against one of the tree trunks, my arm pressing densely and harshly into his throat. I'd shoved him and placed him silently and strategically. His feet kicked a little as they stretched and failed to find the forest floor. He struggled to breathe, but he was not afraid. His tears were strictly physical, and he was not ashamed of them as he watched me through them. Demon had started yelping from behind me, but I heard the sounds of sparks and Kiri's Hardening activate, and there was struggling, but no one approached.
Good job, babysitters.
"I have a question for you, Elias," I told him coldly, sharply, bringing our faces close together. His blue eyes flared no fear and no surprise. I shouldn't have been shocked. He'd seen the note. Of course he'd seen it. "Why the fuck does Needles think I'm in the lake?"
"I told him you were," he told me back, his breath strained from where my arm was holding his neck in place, but that was the only hesitation in his answer.
"Why?" I demanded.
"Because I know what you promised him," he said back. Some of the rage left automatically. I tried to summon it back, but it refused to come. "And I know what he meant to you. I knew he removed your chip. I knew that meant you told him you were leaving and I know you would have been vague about it. You deserved to have him thinking you killed yourself rather than you left and betrayed him. He died thinking that."
"Are you insane?" I screamed back at him. A horrible, pitiful choice of words. "You killed him, Elias! More than he or I did."
"We all played a role," Elias corrected, his voice becoming less strained under my grip, which was loosening and retreating against my will. "You started it, I helped it along, and he finished it. We're all to blame, and therefore have no rights to point fingers at the others."
"I hate you," I said. I meant it, genuinely. "You're insane, and I hate you."
"I know," Elias said, and he did.
He fell onto the forest floor, stumbling a bit, but finding his balance just as fast. I buried my face in my hands and sent muffled screams into my palms. It almost sounded like he was trying to be sympathetic, but I didn't have to see his eyes to know that was a lie. He didn't and wouldn't blame himself like Demon and I had and would continue to do. He wouldn't be tortured by it. He wouldn't be kept up or yanked from sleep in a cold sweat over the images and the memories and thoughts about what could have been. He hadn't lost family, someone who'd protected him, saved him, put his life on the line for them. He didn't know Needles and he didn't mourn him. He didn't know. He didn't know at all.
"You are a fucking monster, Elias!" I yelled in his face. There were stressed noises behind me. They didn't have to comprehend my words to catch the sentiment.
"If that's what you think of me," he said back, his face not morphing into an ounce of emotion. Smart move, on his part. I'd rather him stand there cold and stoic than to fake it. "So be it."
I saw my hand reach out and grab his coat, but after that was just a flurry of movements and redness. As usual, he didn't fight me. He didn't even try to. His face was cracking harder than it normally did and I was less strategic with placement. I hadn't lost control completely, but I was struggling to keep hold of the reins on it. I was so furious that I wanted to make Elias come face to face with Death himself and kiss him on the mouth before I would finally reach into his pocket and offer him reprieve.
He started struggling and cringing underneath me at the scent and sight of blood, vomit bubbling up in his throat, and still I continued indifferently. I couldn't change anything or save him or bring him back, but I could do this. When we'd tiptoed all the way to the borderline, I wiped my hands off on the grass, reached into his inner coat pocket, and dropped a blood and dirt flavoured recalibration tablet into his mouth. I stood and ripped the dress off, and Demon was already waiting with the portable shower and my old clothes. He knew things would inevitably get ugly. Still. It was a kindness, in its own way. If that didn't fully recalibrate him, he was a lost cause. It was also a kindness in a selfish way, because I didn't wish to see either of them for at least a few days. I got into my old training clothes and waved for the two people I could actually stomach to head back.
"I forgive you, Demon," I told him, heading towards the mouth of the trail. I didn't stop walking or turn to face him as I did it. "And for what it's worth, do you remember what I told you back at my first funeral?"
I took a sharp inhale, wondering if I was crossing a line, but shook the thought out of my head. So much time had passed, so many horrors marked the distance between then and now. He'd been so candid with me, and I still loved these moments between us. I had had to shy away from them due to the wedge Elias had driven between us the entire time at the Academy, but it had destroyed me every time. I owed him this much.
"I lied."