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[well, if they're getting comfortable--

he's been close with midnight before, even if not like this. the contact is... reassuring at this point, he realizes as he settles into place, less awkward than it might have been earlier on; he doesn't worry about what to do with his hands as he pulls his loose bun free from its hairtie, long hair falling over his shoulders, then curls closer.]

I feel like I should be asking you that, you know...? But I'm okay. Just... didn't see any of that coming.

Mm. Didn't think he'd go that far. Would've warned you if I'd known. I do apologize for that... among other things.

[ He stretches a little, then curls loosely, giving their legs some space to arrange themselves around each other, one arm pillowed under his head. ]

Didn't mean to make you a captive audience. If I could have saved you from most of that nonsense, I would have.

I could've left from the beginning, man. I should be telling you sorry for putting myself in the middle of it. I just...

[he shakes his head slightly, brushes a fall of hair out of his eyes.]

Was worried about both of you, I guess.

Then what would you be apologizing for, hmm? Concern for two friends having it out within earshot? That sounds justified to me.

[ Midnight shrugs, which is kind of a squished gesture while he's laying down on his side. It's the thought that counts. ]

For all you knew, that was going to escalate into violence. Feelings run high during a fight, and I can't admit to having perfect control over what I say or do. I'd prefer you keeping yourself safe from harm, but I can't criticize you for taking action when I would have done the same. Seems a bit hypocritical.

Yeah, for all I knew one of you was gonna get hurt or something. Who'd have figured.

[he says, deadpan, reaching up to poke not directly at where midnight had been bleeding (he isn't that mean), but near enough to make his point. no violence here. none at all.]

[ Midnight flinches, but laughs, winces again. That still stings. ]

Lucky thing my lip's dried up by now, otherwise I'd have you get up and wash your hands.

[ And, well, seeing as how Netzach's going to be around a bit more often... ]

In the future, if you ever see me bleeding in a situation where I can't take care of myself, call Daan. Loveless on the network, if you don't know him, he's my doctor. There's something in my blood that I don't want touching you. Don't go around breathing in the smoke either. It's toxic.

Probably breathed in worse before, but... yeah. I'll be careful, promise.

[though-- well. after a couple moments, he amends:]

If it looks like you're gonna die before I can get him there, though, you're not getting me to promise I'll let you bleed out.

[at that point, he isn't going to care what's in midnight's blood.]

[ Midnight says nothing for a moment, then reaches out, pushes Netzach's hair off his forehead, then rests his palm on Netzach's jaw, his thumb stroking gently over his cheekbone, just under his eye. ]

My love, I'm sorry. If you can't promise to leave me, I will promise to do everything in my power to end my own life before you have a chance to act. You will not touch me. Do you understand?

[ His voice is very, very soft. He remembers the story Netzach told. He knows. He regrets having to say this. He regrets many things. ]

You-

[-the protest is immediate despite not quite knowing what to say, an immediate, unhappy reflex of not that. not again. for a second, he closes his eyes, as if shutting them will shut out the answer and that gentle touch both.

...it's different. it was different with her. but he can't help hating the thought of both losing someone he cares about the same way, and being unable to do anything but watch them die. it's a struggle to sort out his emotions to tell if he's actually angry about it or not, but-

eventually he exhales a breath and seems to deflate, a little.]

Then don't-- at least let me stay.

[ Midnight looks into Netzach's eyes for a moment, then shifts, tugging him onto his arm, his other arm around his waist, rubbing his back. ]

I have a mineral called Originium in my blood. It stabilizes by eating dead cells, and kills more cells when it runs out of living flesh to feed on. When I die, it will consume my body within minutes, then it will destabilize into dust. Smoke, Originium particles in the air. If someone else breathes too much of it in, they'll suffer from a severe fever then vomit blood before developing the same condition, beginning the cycle again.

I can't stop you, my darling. Cover your nose and mouth, take shallow breaths. Be careful. But if you catch it, I will live the rest of my life in regret. Please... You must leave me alone.

All it is is a ride on the train. That's all it is, love. It's quite all right.

Edited 2023-10-11 02:08 (UTC)

[he lets himself be pulled in-- it's easier and easier, to just allow it.

and while midnight talks, his thoughts spin; it's unfair, he thinks, that for once he sort of wishes he had clearer memories of that first life of his. more detailed knowledge of the things giovanni knew. he used to be a researcher, he used to help study the cure they wanted to create, he used to know how to at least try to do something about this.

(wishful thinking. they don't have the type of facility that'd be necessary here anyway.)]

...'kay.

[is what he manages to mutter, eventually.]

I won't get exposed to it. So don't run off on your own or something, alright? Maybe that's safer, but... nobody should die that way.

[ Midnight closes his eyes, continues rubbing Netzach's back, then pulls him closer, tucks him under his chin. Where Midnight's from, several hundred people die of Oripathy every day. One day, he'll be one of them. That's all. ]

I'll do whatever I can to protect others while I still can. All that I ask is that you don't let my efforts go to waste.

[ ... After a moment, he laughs softly. ]

In the meantime, I wouldn't worry so much. I don't plan on dying anytime soon. I'm very cool and handsome, you know. Much too impressive to go down without a fight.

-yeah. I guess that's true.

[it's faintly amused, muffled against him as netzach settles right in. he's warm; he feels like he doesn't even need a blanket, like this.]

As long as you take care of yourself enough to put up a fight, man.

Mm. Well, I do train every day... I reckon that has to help the odds somewhat.

[ Did... he... forget the entire eating problem argument that started this whole mess in the first place? Yes. Yes, he really is that stupid. ]

Probably, sure, but more than just that...

[midnight. buddy. netzach leans back just enough to look at him.]

You said you don't have that many options for what you need, right?

What I need...?

[ ... Not a single thought in his head. Like, he's in bed cuddling with someone very cute, that's Maslow's entire hierarchy of needs, just the whole pyramid.

He needs a moment to rub his brain cells together. Fortunately (?), he talks about his needs so infrequently that he zeroes in on the culprit after a particularly long, thoughtful stare. ]

Oh! The blood. Sorry, you're so cute, I just forgot.

Huh-?

[he can't keep just SAYING things like this. he's going to kill him. moving on. help.]

I- yeah. I meant the blood.

...I'm gonna be here more often anyway. You know I'd help you with it.

Oh, love...

[ Midnight sighs, rests his hand on Netzach's head again. ]

Kaveh will flay me, you know. Never mind my door; he'll find a way to renovate my head clean off without bringing me permanent harm. Outside of that, though... It's not something I want you to feel obligated to do. My wellbeing is my responsibility. I don't want to put you in a position to worry about my meals when I can't promise you a smooth process.

If Kaveh has a problem with it, then that's up to me to deal with. I'm offering. I told you-- I don't do things that I don't wanna do anymore.

[he's in a position to make these decisions for himself, and what he wants is for midnight to be okay.]

Doesn't bother me if it isn't a smooth process or anything.

[ Midnight looks at Netzach, eyes lowered in thought. Thinking, right? Weird. (Netzach probably has picked up by now that he spends a lot of time out, and when he gets back, he's pretty happy to just listen to Netzach until he drops off. People tend to distract him from his thoughts. Midnight likes people.) ]

I don't want anything to be difficult for you, especially on my account. [ But he takes in a breath, lets it out in a sigh. ] Will you worry less for me if you do this?

...yeah. Yeah, I would.

[it's something that he can do. a way that he can help.]

I'd at least know I did what I could for you.

You already do so much, darling. Just by being around.

[ Midnght looks Netzach in the eye and says this completely without irony, without laughing, without even smiling. The kind of sincerity that might be easy to mistake for a lie, if only because he seems like the type of person to say these sorts of things for the drama of it. ]

I want you to know that you can always say no. That I'll always have other plans.

[ Midnight breathes out. Oh, it is bothersome to grow up. ]

I've learned. I have. I shouldn't like to let it get to this point again. Not when you're being so generous.

Midnight...

[it might be a little hard to read that tone. soft, as always, but equally serious in response to that sincerity.

after a second, he reaches up to gently tug at a lock of his hair.]

What I'm saying is, I care about how you're doing, so just let me help.

[what he's saying is: i care about you, but that feels-- almost too direct.]

[ One may assume that Netzach's said something wrong, what with the way Midnight freezes, eyes going a bit round and hand going perfectly still. He needs a second to look at his hand, then look at Netzach, with his hair loose and that careless honesty, to realize that he's reacted like he has something to be afraid of.

Which is patently ridiculous, of course. Midnight lowers his eyes for a moment, breathes until the sick, tight feeling of being watched goes away, until it's just the fact: he's being cared for, and that's fine. He knows that. He knows there's nothing wrong with being cared for. That the nervousness...

Well. He's had a long life filled with people. Netzach's had a longer life with no one. It's best to try not to give off the wrong signals.

So what he does is reach up, take Netzach's hand, and sandwich it between his own, fingers lacing comfortably where they fall. He breathes for another moment. ]

Thank you. [ ... ] I am making this a bit difficult, aren't I?

I'm used to difficult. You've met my coworkers here-- hell, you've met me.

[he can be difficult to deal with in his own way; he's aware enough of that.

that reaction doesn't go unnoticed, though, with the way he freezes, the look on his face. netzach lets his hand be taken, lets midnight hold it and laces their fingers together easily, but he still asks:]

...you good? I can still let you have some space, if you need me to.

[just in case.]

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cw: suicide mention

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cw: description of magical terminal illness

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