destinystrings | It's hard, losing someone... [closed]

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It's hard, losing someone... [closed]

Who: AU1!Terra and OU!Terra-Xehanort
Summary: There are a number of new empty rooms in the Castle of Departure. Someone's taking the loss hard... but someone else is taking it harder.
Warnings: Talking about loss and how to cope with it? Probably a little depressing.

[It's tough, feeling bonds you had formed with others cut off. When it's a particularly strong bond, it's like a piece of you has been ripped away.

At least, that's what Terra likens it to. He'd felt it in Promenade, when Ven, Sora, and Roxas had died during that week of endless night and monsters out of one's nightmares. And he felt it here again, when Aqua had vanished.

Reading her note had helped, somewhat. He knew she was back home, lost in that dark ream he'd seen her fall into in the enchanted mirror in Promenade. He knew she was safe, his heart told him that much. But she wasn't here, and that... hurt.

But he knew, Aqua wasn't the only one gone. Other lights had vanished from the castle. The older Xion, the younger Riku, Sora... all had returned. It... made him think.

As he passes by the room that the older Xion had stayed in, he feels a familiar presence inside and stops.

... of course. Those two had been pretty close, hadn't then?

He steps up to the door, and knocks.] Xehanort...? Can I come in?

[If this was hard on him, when he'd been prepared for disappearances like this to happen at any moment... what must someone that was new to all of this be going through?]

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[He hadn't been in the best mental state before, with the whole "revelation" of sorts. He hadn't talked to anyone about it, but he'd been working up the courage to mention it to Xion... somehow, the idea of her rejecting him about it had made his heart clench and strangely unpleasant thoughts swirl around his head.

He hadn't gotten the chance, though. She'd simply disappeared. He'd come looking for her one day and she was gone and he hadn't really imagine such a thing could actually hurt. It had taken a little while to sink in properly, and he'd been in a bit of a daze, but then the realization that she was gone, completely gone, not just absent. She had left, just like that, and with him it felt like a piece of him and somehow been attached and that was missing. Like an egg, he'd thought, with a hole in the shell and now everything was leaking out until he was hollow and empty inside.

That night his chest had ached and he'd crawled into her room and slept in her bed because the only thing that had kept him calm had been the lingering smell of her. It was creepy in its own way but he didn't care. Dreams had come in fits, angry and violent, hunting and being hunted and pain and blood and lashings of weapons that seemed familiar at the time but upon waking had faded from memory. The ache hadn't gone away, but he'd simply put up with it, walking with his head in a funk, working on auto-pilot. Tears had come quickly and easily, but he'd hidden himself in the stacks so that no one could see. Sora hadn't been as big of a loss, though it still hurt. Sora had been a sort of friend, someone without expectations, and of course his closeness with Xion. It had stung, and perhaps a smaller piece had come away. His mood didn't change. Perhaps he was still numb. The same with the little Riku, really... he hadn't known the boy much. He'd been surprised when he felt an odd pang well up from somewhere inside of him... he had no reason to be sad, after all. His dreams had involved beaches that night, endless blue seas and warm climates and the taste of fish on his tongue... but dissatisfaction even in the face of paradise.

Perhaps he might have recovered from the almost palpable darkness hanging over his head had he not slipped into his room to see something out of place... a note and a small glass charm.

That had done it, somehow. That note, it was just so like her... but even still there was a depth of loss and pain that suddenly overwhelmed him. His tongue had curled and he'd seen red and he'd lashed out, smashing the charm with his fist and howling in pain as shards buried themselves into his knuckles. He'd torn the note to shreds, throwing things about in a childish fit, before crawling back to Xion's room and not leaving.

He had no idea how much time had passed. Hunger didn't mean anything. Sleep came and went but the dreams were so startling that he'd wake in trembling sweats. His hand throbbed but he let it be, not wanting to look at it at all. Part of him wanted to simply curl up in a dark hole and fade away. Part of him felt as though these feelings were fine and natural. Part of him simply felt deep waves of loss. Part of him was simply angry at himself for being so weak.

A familiar voice.

The darkness and emptiness in the room felt particularly heavy, as though hiding him away from everything in the world. It was vaguely comforting. He shifted his grip on the blanket he was holding, pain lacing through his fingers. His throat felt thick, his voice shaky from not speaking, from crying, from dull whining.]

What do you want?

[Well, damn. You sound terrible, face-twin. Terra's just going to open the door a crack and peer inside--

... Xehanort doesn't just sound terrible. And that Darkness...] Just to talk. Is that all right?

[His gaze is drifting over to that injured hand, and he's wincing. What could've caused that, and why did it look like it'd been purposefully left untreated?]

[Perhaps it's somewhat a relief that there's still someone in this castle. It's full of memories that he isn't sure he wants anymore.]

There's nothing stopping you.

[It's a conversation he's not sure he wants to have, and he flops onto his side dramatically to face away from Terra.]

We're the only ones left, I take it.

[He'll take that as a 'yes', since... well. Nothing really could stop him if he really wanted to force his way in. You can't lock a Keybearer out of anywhere they want to go, after all.

He enters and shuts the door as quietly as he can, and has to resist the urge to roll his eyes at the others behavior. Really? Okay, be that way.] Not quite. There are four others that are still here, to my knowledge.

[Riku. Kairi. The younger of the two Xions. Naminè. It isn't much, considering who had all been here before, but it's still something.

He finds a spare chair and sets it up at the side of the bed, and proceeds to sit.] You're hurt.

[And he's not just talking about your hand.]

[He's mildly surprised to hear that, though they're probably people he rarely had much to do with if he hadn't encountered them yet. They're not the people that he wants to be there, at least.

He doesn't want to say anything, but at Terra's second statement he reflexively clenches his fist, closing his eyes at the resultant pain.]

It'll heal. Humans are resilient like that.

[... idiot.] Not unless you take care of it right.

[He sighs, and is resisting any and all urges to smack his palette-swapped double on the back of the head. It's the last thing he needs right now.] Let me take a look.

[That wasn't a request.]

[He rolls his eyes, but he isn't in the mood to fight off Terra. Not when he's been holed up for the past however long. He sticks his arm up straight.]

What happens to people when they're not here?

[Okay, now you're just being a brat. He can't help but crack a small grin, though.

It kind of takes him back, in a weird way.

Taking a look now-- are those shards of colored glass?] Turn to face me; it'll be easier on your arm.

[... it's a little bit before he answers.] They go back home, wherever or whenever that might be for them.

[He needs something to get those glass shards out of your hand. Seriously, how did you do this?]

Edited 2013-06-29 04:44 (UTC)

[He doesn't want to face Terra, not at the moment. He's not in the mood for whatever platitudes will come based on how unkempt and distressed he looks. He flops onto his side, raising the pillow up to cover his face. For a moment maybe he can pretend she's there, and that helps calm down the churning he feels inside.]

Oh...

[He's not sure if that's good or bad in this case. He doesn't want to think about it. It puts too much pressure on his heart.]

I guess no one really knows. Has anyone ever come back, I wonder...

[That fully depends on what they're going back to. For someone like Aqua, who was only returning to be trapped with no way for someone like her to get out on her own, it wasn't good. For some like Riku, it was to live through the events that created the Riku that was still here.

That was kind of a mixed bag.

It takes a while before Terra answers again, his speech accompanied by the sound of fabric rustling, footsteps, and curtains being drawn back.] I don't know. People return sometimes, but not always the same version of that person. Time's... strange like that.

[A little bit of rattling around, and then Terra returns to the side of the bed with a set of tweezers and a rag, to take the glass out.] All right... try not to flinch. This is going to sting a bit.

[Okay, probably a lot.]

[There's an edge of light and he mashes the pillow harder against his face. The darkness had been comfortable, and he wishes he could pull it around himself like a blanket. To stay safe, to stay away from everything else. He mutters into the pillow for a moment, but then stays still.]

Then there's little hope, I suppose. No reason to hold on.

[And a momentary laugh, though it's strained and unnatural.]

Everything hurts. What's a little more? Do what you're going to do.

[He clenches his fist hard, biting down on the soft fabric. Maybe he's right and it'll wash out the other pains in a wave of endorphins.]

[It might have been comfortable, but he wouldn't have been able to see what he was doing.

It's surprising, how gentle he's being with pulling the shards of glass out.] Don't talk like that. There's always a reason to hold on to hope, even when all seems lost.

[One shard, two, five... he takes his time with this.] ... it'll always hurt. The pain lessens with time, but it never completely goes away.

[Now? He's definitely not talking about the hand.]

[Part of him wants to take the pillow away and glare, but he knows how bright it is and he doesn't want that right now. He just grinds his teeth and doesn't let himself make any noise.]

Then what's the point? If all it does is hurt. What is there even to hold on to, the idea that in the end it'll all be for naught?

[It's a pity your sight is blocked, otherwise you'd see him shake his head.] No... you hold on to the hope that one day, you'll be reunited with the ones you lost.

[Even if some losses are more permanent than others... no. Don't think like that.] You hold on to the memories you made with them. Cherish them, the good and the bad. It helps with the pain more than you'd imagine.

[It's hard to tell, but he shakes his own head in response. It's pointless, really... he misses his earlier ignorance, the complete lack of remembrance. For all he'd wanted to overcome the amnesia, now he simply wants it to overwrite everything with emptiness.

The dark pallour around him intensifies as he withdraws back into himself, entertaining nothing but his own thoughts for a few moments.]

So you delude yourself and wrap yourself in the past... that hardly seems like a way to live at all. Why would one even bother with any of it?

I don't delude myself; I choose to remember, and live on. They wouldn't want me to mourn them forever, after all. [Okay, that darkness flare? That's worrying. Very worrying. Especially with this kind of talk involved.

Sorry, but he's ripping the pillow off your face and look you in the eye the best he can.] Would you rather drown in your own fear instead? Shut away the world and never speak let anyone in so you don't feel the pain? Is that any way to live?

[His own darkness flares to life around him; a tightly-contained aura that pulses faintly to the rhythm of his heartbeat.]

[For a second he's visible - tired, puffy eyes from lack of sleep and crying, hair unkempt and tangled from lack of upkeep - but his pupils retract instantly and he jerks his hands to cover his eyes with a yelp. A weight, something heavy inside pressing down on his chest, that dull pain from before, he can't breathe... Something floods through him, adrenaline, he thinks, the beat of his heart in his ears. His darkness intensifies in response, wild and unpredictable.]

I don't understand why it's even happening... I didn't even care about them...

[Something stirs inside again, and there's a shift that makes him gasp and roll onto his side. He grips his face tightly, grimacing in the hope that it'll stop, but tears form anyway.]

[The anger washes away just as fast as it came, and Terra lets his own Darkness recede back into his heart. Sadness replaces it instead, and he can't help but feel sorry for the guy.] You cared about at least one of them.

[They're in Xion's room. That's proof enough that her loss hit you hard.

... okay. Worried again. There's mourning, and then there's... whatever this is.] Xehanort?

[Crap, is he going to have to get through that chaotic aura somehow? Because whatever is going on, you can't seem to function.]

I'm not talking about her! [His voice is louder than expected, but for the moment it feels right, as though he's trying to yell over a crowd. To state how he actually feels. It works, because the sadness he feels is from her... the low aching sorrow that fits him like a glove rather than just suddenly welling up out of nowhere. The flared darkness dulls down just a little bit for the moment as he relaxes... he has a handle on himself again.]

I'm not talking about her. She was the only person who didn't treat me like I was a criminal... but I suppose that you all were right to treat me in that fashion, weren't you?

[The darkness oozes out again, not as intense but heavy and potent.

Hearing his name, he tilts his head towards Terra again, pulling one hand away as he blinks a little at the light.]

What?

[Blink. ... oh. Well, now he's shaking his head.] What are you talking about? You haven't done anything wrong.

[There's a light emphasis on the word 'you' when he says that. And he continues, sounding... kind of sad.] If there was anyone here that should treat you as a criminal--that should hate you just for existing, it'd be me. But... I don't.

[And that's something that... well. If he'd been told that he wouldn't hate any incarnation of Xehanort when he first arrived here, he would've thought they'd hit their head on something.

And... man, you have no idea how glad he is that the dark aura you were just emitting is diminishing somewhat.] ... do you mind if I take a look at something?

[If he can even figure out how to do this.]

[At this point there really isn't much left to lose. He's already lost the things that matter the most. He laughs a little at Terra's response, shifting to turn away from the light source a bit.]

I know I was the leader of that Organization. The one that Xion was a part of. The one that wears those black coats. That's why everyone was so suspicious of me. [Grandiose hand-swinging. Maybe a little too apt for the conversation they're having. His voice swells a little bit, dramatically.] Once upon a time, I decided to attempt to destroy the universe!

[With that out of his system he seems to deflate somewhat, hands going back to clutch at his chest out of reflex. He's done that a lot the past however long. It feels comforting somehow.]

I don't blame you if you did hate me. That you don't is surprising. Blood family with such goals in mind must not have been pleasant to weather.

[And then, he leans back and closes his eyes again, having said his piece for the moment. It wasn't the person he wanted to talk to, but in the end it didn't really matter at this point.]

Go ahead. What do you need?

[Blink. Blink. Say... what?

Hold on, rewind. Why is Terra now trying not to laugh?] N-no, you're-- Light, is that what you think we were keeping from you?

[Okay, give him a few seconds to figure out just what to say. Damn, and this is the perfect opening. One he manages to keep a relatively straight face (relatively, he still looks somewhat amused in a 'damn, this is ironic' kind of way), he'll start talking again.] Xemnas is about ten years ahead of us. From our point in the timeline, he doesn't exist yet.

[Hell, the only reason he knows about Xemnas is because of the Axel in Promenade. The amused smile dims, and ... well. Here goes nothing.] It isn't your fault, that we were suspicious. It's not the easiest thing to talk about.

[And it's complicated.] ... ... I'll explain what I want to do after I'm done. It'll make more sense afterwards.

[So, while he gets back to taking the glass shards out of his near-double's hand, he begins talking. About a man named Xehanort, who had been a Keyblade Master that had trained alongside his own master, Eraqus. About how this man had been present at Terra's own Mark of Mastery exam, and had offered him words of encouragement after his failure. How the elderly master had seemed to go out of his way to get Terra to trust him, only to do the unforgivable and betray that trust.

He describes with some effort being tricked into fighting Eraqus, weakening him to the point where the older Xehanort could finish him off with a stab to the back. How the old man then went on to destroy the place he had called home for most of his life, and threaten to end the lives of his remaining family just to make Terra's heart darken fully with grief and anger.

Even with his tone going quieter and he has to keep himself from shaking with anger, regret, and grief over the last description, he takes a calming breath and continues. He describes the battle at world called the Keyblade Graveyard - the last battle of a war that happened eons ago that nearly destroyed the universe, and a war that Xehanort had intended to reignite for whatever reason.

He tenses up, and barely gets out the last part - the fight. How Xehanort and his apprentice, Vanitas, had split up him, Aqua, and Ven. Isolated them. Made sure they couldn't fight alongside each other. How Xehanort had fought, and lost, only to pull a move that Terra couldn't have thought of in his worst nightmares.

'Out with the old and brittle vessel, and in with the younger, stronger new one'. There's anger, and disgust, and fear in his tone, and he can't help but shudder as he quotes those words. He remembers very little after that - struggling, fighting back against a powerful, oppressive darkness that meant to eradicate him and take his body for it's own.

He remembers calling out to Aqua, somehow; telling her to 'put an end to him'. To stop the old man from wreaking havoc while using his body. He remembers struggling more against chains that held him in place as the bastard held her up by her throat, trying to choke the life out of her.

He remembers a fight, and Aqua using light to push away enough of that oppressive Darkness for him to do something - to put a seal on the two hearts that had been forcefully merged. Maybe he couldn't shove out the intruder, but he could keep him from carrying out his plans - even if that meant sealing away himself as well. But the sealing had an unexpected effect - it created a completely blank slate; a completely new person that wasn't him or Xehanort, who could choose to be whatever or whoever he wanted to be.

He finishes picking out the shards of glass, and quickly heals the wounds. He pauses, letting his voice rest a bit before he looks Xehanort in the eye and finally explains what he wants to do.] I want to check the seal on your heart. When you arrived here, it was still new. I want to see how it's held up so far.

[... yeah. He'll... wait, until you can process all of that. And apologize for dumping all of that at once on you.

But now you see why he hadn't said anything. That was really complicated, bro.]

[It's a surprise that Terra would willingly go into things, but he listens keenly. If he's so wrong with his assumption, he wants to know just how he was wrong.

As Terra's story winds on he begins to feel a sort of tension, a tightening of the chest that makes his breath shorten. If it wasn't for Terra's grip on his hand he would have jerked it away as though burned by the touch. Something didn't feel right, something felt wrong... an angry sort of buzz from within that was setting him on edge.

... and then his eyes go wide as Terra finally recounts the circumstances of his birth. His mind whirls impossibly... that couldn't be true. That couldn't be possible... could it?

Riku had talked about people that lived without hearts, and the creatures that were nothing but a heart dredged in darkness. Why not a man with more hearts than his own? Why not...

Suddenly he felt sick. Terra's words had faded into nothing, a background drone that was neither informative or comforting. He felt violently ill, violated, angry... the instant his hand was released he jerked back, thrashing blankets and everything in an attempt to put space between himself and his brother.

Not his brother. No, that had been a fabrication. The person that stood there existed both there and somehow inside of him.

He didn't want to exist anymore.]

Don't touch me!

[... considering the ways this could've gone, it... ... could've gone so much worse. This is such a natural reaction to hearing about a subject like this that Terra almost feels relieved.

But he just visibly remains... very still. Very quiet. It's such a careful non-reaction that anyone who knows Terra would be able to tell that he's doing everything he can to hold himself together.

Rejection of any kind always hurts.] I'm sorry. But... you deserved to know. No one was telling you anything, and... it wasn't right.

[Still not moving from his seat at the side of the bed, or raising his voice.] ... I wouldn't blame you, if you wanted nothing to do with me after this. But, like I told you earlier... I don't hate you. It's strange, but after meeting you, I don't think I could.

[A small, almost tired-looking smile appears on his face, though it doesn't reach his eyes.] It'd be pointless, to hate someone for how they're born. It's not something they could help, after all.

[He's so, so sorry. No one could be ready for that kind of news. If he hadn't lived it, he would scarcely believe it himself.]

[The fact that Terra seems so calm just makes it worse in a way. A wave of nausea rolls through him at the thought of all of it. He's not anything that should exist. A takeover of someone else. Some sort of magical abomination that everyone just sort of let do as it pleased... of course they were afraid, there was a terrible old man inside of him and they didn't know if he would come out somehow.

He has to raise a hand to his mouth as he heaves slightly, grabbing a tight handful of hair with his other hand. There's way too much going on inside, feelings coming fast and overwhelming, and with the blood rushing past his ears, the dirty itch of skin that isn't his... his chest feels tight. There's a familiar pain building that makes him gasp and wobble a bit as he tries to put more space between them, angling for a doorway.

He can't stay here anymore. No, he can't stay anywhere. Everything has been taken away, and now he has no right to live.

He raises a finger as though to chastise Terra, but his hand and even his entire arm are shaking too much for it to be terribly effective. There's a painted, desperate note to his voice.]

No, don't you see... I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't exist. I'm not supposed to exist!

[He jerks at his hair in despair, letting out a wail that turns to a yelp. He doubles over, sinking to his knees and clutching his chest.]

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It's hard, losing someone... [closed]

this is going to be long and ugly, I'm sorry

Don't be. :c Bro...

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