psychoshenanigans | Goodnight // AU

It's good that he sent most of them away, so Coil can stop spending time watching them too closely and wishing horrible things down on their heads. Zhas at least tolerates them on occasion, has the patience needed to give them orders, but Coil has never had either of those abilities. It's not as though he would actually do anything about his annoyance, especially in this condition--Zhas still lashes out at ten times the number of vampires that Coil ever does--but it makes him twitchy and distracted and puts him in a worse mood than he already is.

So, now it's quiet and calm--the halls are as close to empty as they can be, and Coil's finally let Zhas drug himself into a deeper stupor.

He'd tried to spend the lull patching up his own shoulder, but the wound is already more stubborn than he can deal with on his own, especially with damaged hands. It didn't occupy him for very long before his frustration broke his patience, and he left the lab to go wandering again.

He ends up back in Zhas' room after only one trip around. Nothing else will hold his attention, he's too miserable and wired to sleep, and he knows it. So, he takes up his place in the chair beside Zhas' bed again, one knee drawn up to prop his crossed arms on. His head is down, but that's just to avoid spending the extra energy needed to hold it up. He's not resting.

It takes her a while to make her way there, meandering and drifting as she does. It's some time before there's the quiet padding of bare feet on stone and a familiar voice from the doorway.

"Ah... what happened, child?"

She's always better after a rest. Coil knows this. Arisen from her slumber of the damned, she's standing straight, draped in robes securely enough to be considered "dressed". She seems regal and strong and concerned, lifting her arm with her hand held limply out towards Coil.

"Come, tell me."

Motherly, comforting. Go to her, she'll make it all better.

He'd heard someone approaching, but he never quite expects it to be her. She'd been locked away, her consciousness even farther, last time he's seen her. And it's always such a conflict when she's around, whether or not her presence is a surprise. A lurch of relief and fear, this time caught between the immediate inexplicable urge to go to her and the anxiety over everything else.

This time, his eyes go to Zhas right away. Saoirse is rarely around when Zhas isn't, and it's always worrying, and there is a sudden pang of terror out of the corner of his mind that she'll be so mad at him for the state Zhas is in...

So, he stays where he's at, straightening up and caught suddenly fearing.

Zhas remains as still as ever, breathing shallow. Saoirse's presence has not changed him, nor does Saoirse even seem all that concerned with his presence. She's seen everything she needs to see from him already.

Her face does momentary shift, twisting to a sudden despair, frustration--why does he never come when she asks? Has she been a bad mother? Does he not like her? How dare he be so disrespectful, but--oh! His face!

It all melts away and she walks to him, everything melted to worry, surprise. She kneels down in front of Coil and reaches up to touch his scratched face.

"What did they do to you? Did they hurt you, too?"

He watches as the storm of a fit rolls in and nearly breaks, and he spends that minute in quiet panic, waiting for it. He almost stands and heads to her, just to make her happy--he would have if he'd been sure that it would actually make things better and not somehow randomly worse. Predicting how certain things affect her is something he's never been any good at.

But then the tension ebbs and she's suddenly closer and reaching for his face...

He's caught looking away, ashamed, and nods.

"No, no, my darling..."

She takes his shoulders and pulls him down onto the floor with her, wrapping him up in her thin arms and squeezing him close in what is, unmistakably, a hug.

"You've done so well. You must have fought so hard to keep my Zhas safe..."

He's dragged down, surprised and a little alarmed... but more than anything, that ache inside his chest that he doesn't understand suddenly hurts, welling up until he feels a little strangled by it.

Because he did fight hard. It hadn't quite been enough, and he'd broken himself a little apart in the process, but he'd tried.

It wouldn't have happened if he hadn't let Zhas out of his sight, if he hadn't let himself get so tricked and caught out in the open by those monsters. He'd fought hard but it was his fault in the first place, and everything that horrible girl had said was true, and he wishes that he'd just been better...

She shushes him, even though he hasn't said anything aloud. She runs her clawed fingers through his hair, nails grazing lightly down his scalp.

And for a little while, she says nothing. She's busy rummaging through bits of things, strings, pockets of feelings that are all natural and normal to her at this point. She's barely aware that she's doing it; Coil may as well be speaking to her.

When she speaks again, her voice is soft and heavy with pride.

"You gave them such a scare. My little knight..."

She pulls away from him, only to hold up his face and smile at him.

"To have you both here and alive is all I could ask. You have no reason to feel shame."

It's difficult because he's expecting to be hurt. He still bears the imprint of years and years of it--normally, he'd be scolded and punished, belittled until he understands exactly how inadequate he is. There were some moments like this, back then, but they were so rare that he never came to expect them.

So to have that tone of pride be pinned on him, arms around him, it shears deep into his chest and cuts him open. He shrinks in on himself, curling around that ache and the way that it jams up into his throat.

He feels shame because he's sorry. He's so sorry...

She follows him as he curls down, face tilting like a bird, eyes red and inhumanly and knowing. There's no reason to hide, and she keeps a gentle hold on his face--palms cupping around his jaw, fingers back at his neck.

"You poor boy. She was so cruel to you, wasn't she...? Horrible thing..."

She means the vampire. Probably.

"Don't let her poison your mind with such thoughts, mm?"

She holds her arms out, then, a clear invitation for Coil to lean into her embrace. She's willing to forgive him for the first time he didn't come to her, given what a horrible time the poor dear has had. He must be exhausted. Out of his wits. It's understandable.

This time, he hardly hesitates. A big part of it is because he can feel tears beginning to flood his eye, and that is something he'd always received punishment for. So, he instinctively doesn't want to let her see... and ducking forward into her arms just happens to line up with everything else he wants as well.

He wants this horrible feeling in his chest to go away. He wants that girl to be wrong. He wants to know that everything is okay...

There. That's much better. Saoirse is cold and dead, certainly short of that natural animal comfort that comes from a mother's embrace... But her robes are bundled like blankets, and the hand at his back is strong, and she smells like the roses she spends so much time fussing over in the garden.

"You're one of us, now. We won't leave you."

She pulls him nice and close again.

"You're important to us. To him."

It's all wrong and lacking, but it's still more than he ever gets. Despite how sick it makes him feel, she's still more living than his own mother, and that matters.

He couldn't pull away if he'd wanted to. He lets himself be hugged; he lets cloth soak up the tears now leaking down half of his face.

He's glad that Zhas isn't awake, now.

He soaks it up, tries to allow himself to believe it. And, in the wake of it, he can't help admitting to himself how desperately important they've become to him too. It's enough to ruin him.

"You have done well," she repeats to him, fingers trailing along his neck, "They're so frightened of you, now. They deserved every second of what they got."

Her voice drops to flat, murderous. Her nails point into his neck a little, just enough to be worrisome, just enough to make him imagine more--but then she loosens up again and any danger dissolves along with her tone.

"Is there anything you'd like, child...?"

Edited 2013-04-11 00:22 (UTC)

It's worrying, but he doesn't flinch even a little. It just helps him get some control over his silent tears. It adds to the wicked, violent things he's imagining for those creatures. He can't help but think about pinning that last one down by its throat with nothing but rage and wire, wishing he'd been able to run down the ones that had fled.

He hopes he can find them again someday.

That's all he'd like right now. It's hard to think of anything more relevant to the present.

"Mm..." She likes that.

Rage is very important to people like them. Rage is what makes Zhas strong, and now, it is what proves Coil is truly on their side. It was so very fortunate that Zhas found him in that blood-soaked ruin.

"Perhaps it's fate."

Her almost-delicate hand returns to his head, stroking his hair with as much love as something dead and unloving can convey.

"You will hunt them down, and you will destroy them." Sinister, until she returns to a familiar, complaining pout. "Zhas will probably think he can stomp around on a bone-hunt before he's even able to see straight. I wouldn't worry about his head, darling, his skull is too thick."

He pulls away a little, just enough to give a defiant little shake of his head, and maybe even wipe at his eye while he's at it.

He won't let Zhas go do anything stupid. Not until he's better. As much as he can manage, he's going to keep him patched up and healing, thick skull or no. It's the least he can do.

It would be a promise, if he thought he would be able to convey that.

"...you are a very good boy."

Something about that makes her look a little sad, or maybe she suddenly looks tired. He shoulders sink, and she almost drifts somewhere else for a moment. The scratches across Coil's face are what bring her back again, reaching up with a handful of robe, dabbing away at something on his blind side that isn't there.

"Your poor face... Does it hurt?"

He doesn't mind the aimless mothering at all, now that he's settled this close. It's at least familiar in the fact that it almost makes sense, but not quite. His own mother would have misplaced moments like that, between everything else.

It's still nice, he decides.

And he replies with a shake of his head. Because his face does hurt, but when compared to his shoulder and his hands, it isn't worth mentioning.

Oh, his hands are next. She drops her robe and picks one of them up, bringing his palm up to her face so that she can smell all the dried blood clotting up under his bandages.

She's very hungry. She suddenly lets go of his hand like a trap un-clamping, and folds her hands back up quietly in her lap.

"You should rest, like Zhas. I'm sure he would appreciate the company."

...Her holding his hand captive is a little worrying. He tries not to show or dwell on it, though he does happen to glance toward Zhas' direction in that moment.

The concern is shortlived, however. She lets him go, and he relaxes again... until the last bit of her comment catches him.

He's used to not understanding every little thing she says, but he still has to take a moment to wonder at what she means by 'company.'

A little smile quirks around unevenly on her face. She tilts her head.

"You don't know...?"

And then, in a sudden spasm of movement that leaves her seeming rather boneless, she twists and falls back onto Coil's lap like it's one of her oversized pillows.

She makes a big show of lounging there, too. She seems quite comfortable, horrible smirk now solidly in place.

"You could sleep beside me too, if you'd like. Zhas enjoyed it very much when he was younger."

He only has a moment to spend with a pang of confusion, a distant and unsettling reflection of the last time an undead girl had asked him that question, before all understanding crumbles right out of his head.

He recoils and gasps like she's a pile of spiders.

After another glance in unconscious Zhas' direction, this one a little panicked, he can only stare at her and quickly shake his head.

He doesn't even know what he's shaking his head to--whether it's somehow answering her, or just generally expressing his alarm.

She giggles, which is a horrifying sound. Zhas must really be out cold, because he doesn't even stir.

Thankfully, her torture is short-lived and she rolls off of him without further cruelty. She doesn't bother getting up, content to rest her chin on her arms and gaze up at him like a mischievous young woman (or possibly a bloodthirsty monster).

"I'm sorry, should I not tease? I've made you upset."

Edited 2013-04-11 19:54 (UTC)

He doesn't know how to answer. He doesn't even know if he really should answer.

But he does know that he's unsettled and conflicted, and can convey as much with the way he flattens the line of his mouth, generally looking uncomfortable.

This is what he gets for allowing himself to get settled, probably.

She continues to stare at him, even in his silence, considering something. Or... she's probably considering something, but the absolute stillness with which she rests doesn't exactly give any clues. She may very well be thinking of nothing at all, completely vacant.

Eventually, though, she pushes herself back up to sit, proper and straight-backed and (thankfully) keeping to herself across from Coil. Her hands are folded in her lap again.

"I mean what I said before. He'd like that."

A polite little smile, now.

He still doesn't get it, and now that he's rattled, he's even less able to spend time trying to wrap his mind around it. He at least glances over and Zhas again as he makes the attempt.

...It's a quick glance, though. He doesn't exactly want to take his eyes off of her for more than a second.

Perhaps that's a good plan. She seems preoccupied with flattening out the wrinkles at her lap, but Coil just saw her go from calm to bitingly cruel in a couple of seconds. He knows how her fits are.

"And I don't want you to think I didn't mean anything else, either. Will you do me a favor, Coil?"

As evidenced. Two thoughts, two different tones (apologetic and sultry), barely a pause away from each other.

He's so wary. He would love to be able to ask her what the favor is before answering, but he can't.

He's also pretty sure that he doesn't have the right.

So, face clearly full of caution, he tentatively nods.

She leans forward, mostly shoulders, slightly tilted so that she can look at him from the side. It's his good side, though that may or may not have been a factor in her intentions. She may not have any intention at all.

"I'm very hungry." She pouts, then, somehow both royal and childish. "Will you please go down to the cellar and get me something to eat?"

Zhas normally does that, but Zhas is... unavailable.

"A Wolf is fine. Even one of the animals will do, I don't care."

Edited 2013-04-16 20:59 (UTC)

Before he has the chance to even decide whether he can or not, he's nodding.

The request causes such a lurch in his chest, even he's a little surprised by the eagerness that he's struck with. Following Zhas' orders all the time has become second nature... but being asked something like this from her has a deeper, older sort of familiarity to it.

He'd be happy to bring her something.

Oh, lovely. She shivers and leans back, sitting proper.

"Thank you, child. Bring it to the throne room."

She sighs, almost gathering the willpower to get back up... but she stays where she is on the floor.

"Oh... But this is quite comfortable. Do you think Zhas would be upset if he awoke to blood on his floor?"

To his credit, Coil represses the enormous urge to grimace. Picturing that, picturing how the room would get in that state, picturing Zhas waking up to it... it's really a demonstration of his willpower that he keeps his expression from being anything more than deeply concerned, and he nods.

And then, maybe to help her move mentally towards getting up, he puts forth the effort to stand up himself, shoving himself slowly up to his feet.

"...I suppose."

She lets her head fall onto her shoulder, suddenly heavy with the implied insistence that she should get up. She'd really rather not. She likes it down here. She likes being near both of her boys.

"We'll do something nice... when the both of you feel better."

That one's distant and hazy. She's feeling a little tired again, all of a sudden. Lifting herself to her feet somehow looks much heavier than it should be, and her shoulders are weighted when she makes it to standing.

And then she, distractedly, reaches out to touch Coil's face again.

"You aught to rest too. You boys are always forgetting that."

With half of his attention being spent on dealing with the sudden odd urge to offer help as she's standing, his nod is much more automatic. He'll rest if she wants.

He needs to bring her what she wants, and make sure that Zhas is doing alright, and try to take care of his shoulder again... but he will rest.

Eventually.

She pats him on the cheek, nails grazing his ear.

"Good. I'll be waiting."

With that established, she floats out on bare feet, robes sliding along in a train behind her. She is probably headed to the throne room, like she'd implied, but that may change somewhere between here and there.

Goodnight // AU

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