[CLOSED] sing for the damage we've done

[silentabyss]

who: Noah & Childe
what: Post-Disney murder :)
when: Last day of the field trip
where: Didney worl, specifically Noah's hotel room
warnings: This is an unfun post. Discussions of trauma & suicide, mercy killings, uhh... yeah, just don't go here


[Noah has been looking at the knife he was given way too long for it to be healthy.

The thing about this whole "die to get back to the school" thing is that he doesn't want to kill himself, because he'd tried so many times before in the clocktower in September and that wound up with him living through something like thirty attempts and getting into a suicide pact with Nene, which is the last thing he wanted. The sensation of dying, too, is not something that's ever pleasant.

He swore he'd get better. He has gotten better since then, so why does he have to regress like this?

Still, the number of students here is thinning out little by little. People are dying some way or another to return to the school, and Noah knows he has to suck it up...

His hotel room door is open and he's just sort of sitting on the bed, holding the dagger, debating what to do with it. Where to hit to make it quick, so that he doesn't feel anything, so that he can return to the school and hopefully just... forget.]

Comments

[silentabyss]

[Noah doesn't jump three feet into the air, but he does lurch to the side and immediately make some noise that's a mix of a yelp and a laugh, swatting Childe's hand away seconds after in mock-annoyance.]

Hey—!

[Childe gets jabbed back. An eye for an eye, a jab for a jab.]

You can't win without being underhanded, huh?

[That's obviously a joke. At least some of the cheerfulness has returned to his voice. When he's done prodding Childe back, Noah returns to half-using the guy as a pillow, head on his shoulder. A distraction is a distraction, but it won't stick for too long.]

[devouringdeep]

[He makes an exaggerated death noise at the counter attack, laughing softly as he reaches to ruffle his hand through Noah's hair, mussing it up.] Oh yeah, you know me. Resident charlatan at his finest.

[He shifts a little, transferring his weight to lean against the arm that wasn't wrapped around Noah. That cold feeling of dread is still twisting up his stomach, and he lets out a slow exhale as he squeezes lightly at Noah's arm. He hates to bring up the bad so soon thereafter, but they are on a bit of a deadline.]

Don't worry, okay? You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, I'll take care of everything.

[silentabyss]

[It's already a fluffy nightmare and Childe ruffling his hair makes it Worse, somehow. Now he just has mild bedhead.]

...what're you going to do, though? You can't just portal us home... not even Add could do that.

[He's positive that the portals Add kept opening throughout the trip's duration don't just go back to the school, after all. It'd be an easy way out, and this purgatory isn't so fond of that.

Clearly, Noah's not having the thought that "take care of everything" means a mercy kill. Perhaps he has too much faith to think such a thing.]

[devouringdeep]

[He slides his hand from Noah's shoulder to the back of his neck, absentmindedly counting the vertebrae there. Noah's small, and he's pretty sure it wouldn't take much force on his part to snap his bones to dust. Not he'd like doing so with his bare hands, of course... No. A blade would definitely be more efficient. His fingers move to the base of Noah's skull, right where it meets with the spinal cord.

Tough to cut through, but he's particularly confident in his own abilities to be able to carry it out. A quick stab there, and death is nearly instant. Something about severing the brainstem... He's never been one to study anatomy, as that was more Dottore's field interest, but he's had practice ending a life or two.

Maybe a lot more than two.

Point being, it would be quick enough that Noah wouldn't feel a thing.]

What I'm best at. [There's a different sort of quality to his voice now, as if he's purposefully detached himself from the topic at hand. Noah's just a kid, after all, and this... This isn't something he ever would have wanted to do, regardless of circumstance. He doesn't hurt children.]

Do you trust me, bratishka? [It's a loaded question, and for a moment he half expects Noah to say no. Which would be... Earned, honestly.]

[silentabyss]

[Noah doesn't parse that Childe is taking notes on where to strike to end him quickly. His hair is a bit long, covering the back of his neck, and he briefly thinks that maybe Childe's simply playing with his hair to comfort him given the ruffle seconds earlier.

No further thought given, Noah registers the question and responds a couple of seconds late, starting to wring his hands again, fidgeting with one of his gloves and trying to pull the leather to cover the ball of his hand despite the fact the gloves aren't long enough to do so in the first place. He does that, and then fidgets with the strap around his wrist, and then plucks at the moon-shaped clasp. Kicks his feet. Shuffles.

Bonks his head against Childe's shoulder again.]

Yeah, I do.

[He wouldn't have stood up for Childe otherwise, in the meeting. Wouldn't have called him there and asked him to show everyone that he wasn't guilty. Wouldn't have snapped at Meng Yao and then again at Natsume in their next meeting because he gets angry whenever Childe gets falsely accused.

Of course he trusts Childe. How could he not?]

[devouringdeep]

[He pauses at the reply, and after a moment a faint, fond smile is crossing his face. Having the confirmation is nice, though it only makes what he’s got to do next feel even more wrong.

He leans forward, pressing his lips lightly to the top of Noah’s head and giving one of those doting, familial kinds of kisses to the spot.] Thank you. Trust me now, then. Okay? [It might be easier if Noah had already caught on to what Childe was offering. Well... Easier for him, at least. It was probably better for Noah this way, as he’d go a lot more peacefully without knowing of the metaphorical —- and literal, actually —- sword hanging over his head.]

Why don’t you tell me what your favorite memory from back home is? And I’ll tell you about my own in response. Deal? [Keep him talking. Distracted.]

[silentabyss]

[Noah gets a kiss on the head, and Childe gets a hug in return, silent acknowledgement of affection given.

No, he doesn't figure it out. Perhaps that's because his brain refuses to connect the dots. Perhaps it's because he's too anxious to think of anything else. Perhaps it's because he knows Childe would never hurt him. At least, not in a way that will cause permanent damage. Not in the way that others have hurt him in the past.

He draws back to look up at Childe, nodding briskly.]

Um... okay. Well... one of my favourites is when Clamor and I first met, even if we started off on the wrong foot. I... I wasn't all too nice to him at first. I'm glad we became friends along the way, though. I'm glad I changed and started being better to him, and I'm glad he never gave up on me. There was this one time we went to a restaurant on the road — he was a sickle then, since it was back home — and I mentioned that peaches made my throat and lips burn when I ate them. Without him, I probably would've never figured out I was allergic to them, actually. I just assumed my entire life that peaches just did that.

[He has no idea that, for the time being, this is going to be the last story he tells. At least he'll go to sleep happy.]

[devouringdeep]

[He’s breathing out a quiet laugh, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling as he draws his hand away from Noah’s neck. It’s a subtle kind of movement, one that might just be written off as a fidget to get more comfortable in sitting here on the edge of this hotel bed. His other hand shifts to rest on his hip, covering his vision with his palm to hide the dull pulse it gives as his blade solidifies in his grip.]

I can confirm that peaches don’t just “do that,” no. [His tone is bright, cheerful. Probably because he continues to reside in that version of his mind that’s entirely disconnected from the situation. The planning has been done, there’s nothing left to think about. Now he just needs to do it. Carry it out.

Briefly, he wonders if the Teucer he’s seen in the reflections of this place was right to be afraid of him. Wonders if the whispers from the mouths of Zhongli and the Traveler and anyone else he’s grown to miss were right to label him a monster.

And then he stops the wondering, because of course the answer is yes. It’s been yes since the day the Abyss spat him back out, since he murdered Ajax for survival and was reborn something else. Something twisted and wrong, who looked at the people he knew he loved and wanted to hurt them to feel something. Who savored the feeling of flesh tearing beneath his fingers, who’s favorite sound had become the snapping and cracking of bones rendered useless beneath his strength.

It had taken some time to tame the urges, to redirect them somewhere more less destructive. To tell himself that it was enough to thrive off of the adrenaline battle wrought, to savor combat and the power it afforded him. To love how it made him stronger. And if death happened to occur within, well... That was simply a consequence he’d have to make peace with, and not the result he truly yearned to carry out. It was enough. It was enough.

Except it never really was.]

I’m glad you two got better in regards to your relationship to one another, though. I don’t think I’d like to see a version of you where you couldn’t stand each other.

[silentabyss]

[Noah, completely oblivious to the pulsing vision or the blade of water, simply continues talking. When he's disinterested in something, he never has much to say — something Clamor pointed out to him a long time ago, something Noah never knew he did until then. Here, now, he's almost talking up a storm, putting aside his fears and anxieties and hopes of not regressing to tell Childe a story.

He's someone who loves deeply. When all's said and done, he'll forgive Childe, even if Childe won't forgive himself. He'll forgive Childe because he knows better than to think anything that's going to happen is out of malice. Because if it came down to it, Noah, too, would mercy kill someone he loves.]

Yeah... me neither. It would've been hard anyway, since... well, Yuria said something like, when I first picked Clamor up as a weapon that our magic wavelengths and our souls... synced, or something?

[Noah's desperately trying to explain spirit pacts without actually knowing how they work.]

It made us partners beyond just the name, I guess is what I'm trying to say. I can't imagine having a combat partner that hates me, or that I hate. I don't think it would've worked out.

[devouringdeep]

[He’s letting out a soft laugh, humming thoughtfully to himself.] No, I can definitely say I agree. It’s more fulfilling to have one that understands you, that knows how to push you to your strongest. A mutual relationship of competition suits better than a rivalry built off of hatred.

[It’s mid conversation that he strikes, words coming off just the slightest bit strained as his arm jerks forward to stab his blade into the back of Noah’s neck. He really sinks his strength into the action, not wanting to leave any room for error. If he screws this up the kid’s gonna suffer, and that defeats the whole purpose of all of this.

He’s a good shot. His aim is fairly reliable. All the same, Noah probably has just the briefest moment to notice before that deadly hydro energy breaks the skin.

His other hand comes up to catch Noah’s forehead, not wanting him to flop forward and onto the floor or anything of the sort.]

I’ll have to tell you all about the Traveler once we’re back, I think. [He keeps talking, eyes fixated on the far wall as he lets out another contemplative noise.] I know I’ve mentioned them before, but passing comments don’t really do our battle justice. It truly was something spectacular... And I’m sure that our promised rematch can get that much better. World ending. Cataclysmic, perhaps.

[He’s the one babbling now and he knows it.]

[silentabyss]

[It's brief, like a blink, maybe quicker — he has no time to register what happened nor to feel any pain nor to even think that, hey, he was in the middle of a story here. There's the murky blackness of death that clouds his vision, something Noah's all too used to. Something a kid his age shouldn't be used to, really.

He doesn't get up again. His moonstone is back at the school, so there's no chance of that happening, no chance of the deja vu that'll make Childe have to suffer this twice. When he goes down, he barely makes a sound other than his voice croaking and giving out; it really is quite lucky that Childe's there to catch him before he hits the floor. Unfortunate, though, that the man has to be covered in blood moments after, as there's no way a wound of that calibre will end in anything less than a smattering of gore across the sheets and Childe himself.

Somewhere, Noah's soul is travelling the great expanse to get back to the school proper, and he'll wake up wondering when Childe will come back and join him so that he can say thanks. Thanks for saving him the shame of having to regress back into old habits. Thanks for taking pity on him. Thanks for caring enough to talk him down from his anxieties. Just... thanks.]