Tormented

After they left the infirmary, Mirage was still steaming. He managed to keep a lid on his rage all the way back to their quarters, where he helped Victor sit down on the lower bunk, but finally couldn't contain it any longer.

"That worthless hunk of scrap metal!" he yelled, wringing his hands as he paced a furious circle around the cabin. "Uncivilized mouth-breathing brute! And all he gets is a slap on the wrist and sent to his room without dinner? That's nowhere near enough! Just watch, I'm going to illusion his underpants into centipedes!"

"Mirage." Victor's voice, though quiet and hoarse, cut through his ranting anyway. Mirage instantly whirled toward the human.

Cay had done a decent job patching him up, Mirage grudgingly had to admit. Beneath the bandages on his face, the swelling had gone down significantly. Even so, his eye looked tired and haggard, and his skin had an unpleasant gray cast. 

"Mirage," Victor said again. "It's okay." 

"Okay?" Mirage choked in disbelief. "He beat the shit out of you and you still – " 

"Really," Victor raised his voice, cutting him off. "I just need to rest for a bit and I'll be fine. So don't worry."

Mirage opened his mouth to protest, but that was when a shudder seized Victor's body and he doubled over coughing. As the disturbingly wet sounds echoed around the room, Mirage's heart twisted into tighter and tighter knots.

He stumbled over to Victor, reaching for his shoulders. Victor waved him off, but his other hand was still clamped tight over his mouth. Only after the coughs died into wheezes, then gasps, did he finally lower the hand.

His palm was stained red with blood. Nausea gripped Mirage's throat.

"What – what is that?" He reached out trembling fingers, trying to grab Victor's wrist, but Victor gently pushed his hand away. "I thought he healed you. Or is it because of that potion he made you drink? Great, the medic is a charlatan too!"

His voice climbed so high it almost cracked. But when warm, callused fingers rested on the side of his face, all the words fled his throat. He could only stare at Victor, who gazed back with – his heart flipped – a calm smile on his face.

"Like I said, don't worry. I mean it. I'm fine as long as I'm here with you."

"Ah...I...." Mirage opened his mouth, then closed it. He must look like a fish gulping for air, but he couldn't help it. Just what could he say to that?

The hand crept higher, gently tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. Everywhere it touched, all the places where Victor's skin met his, felt unbearably hot.

"You...," Mirage grumbled, lowering his gaze. "You don't play fair at all, do you?"

~*~

Curled up in bed, hidden beneath the blanket, Zenith wanted nothing more than to disappear. 

How ironic that he had intended to rest in his quarters all along. Now he was here, but he couldn't even imagine putting himself in sleep mode.

He gripped his head, digging his fingers into sweat-soaked hair. It felt uncomfortably hot beneath the blanket, but he didn't want to get out from under here. 

In a rare step for him indeed, he had even removed his armor. The crystal sat on the desk, the faintest trace of its icy blue light filtering through the blanket. Cleaning off the blood was a trivial matter, one he could certainly accomplish while wearing the armor, but the thought of keeping it on made him feel filthy all the way to the core.

He didn't deserve it. Not the way he was now.

The shame coiled in his gut, a heavy, bitter snake. It was devouring him alive, and he couldn't do anything to stop it. No, this was what he deserved.

Just what had he been thinking? What had he done? After vowing all this time to serve Prince Darian with his life, to always honor her as her knight, he had thrown it away in the heat of the moment because...because of what? A grudge against Victor?

That shouldn't matter. Knights shouldn't hold grudges. Homunculi shouldn't.

A voice drifted from the crevices of his memory, faint but clear. 'I am a homunculus. I do not experience emotions.'

Theo had told him otherwise, and even Zenith hadn't truly believed it at the time. But now he wanted nothing more than for it to be true. If only he could be an emotionless machine. Lacking doubts, living only for his duty. 

Theo wouldn't want that, but...he doubted Theo would want to face him the way he was now, either. After all, Victor wasn't just an ally and fellow crew member; he was Theo's brother.

A shudder raced down Zenith's spine. He curled up tighter, drawing his knees to his chest. Disappear...disappear...forget it all....

'Why should you?'

It wasn't his own voice. No, this voice – it filled him with a simultaneous blend of dread and relief. How long had it been since he'd last heard it?

But he shouldn't want to hear it. He didn't know where it came from, who it belonged to, whether it meant him any good. 

'You're still thinking like that? When I'm the one who understands you the most?'

Zenith shook his head numbly. Though his mind screamed at him not to pay the voice any heed, he couldn't help but respond.

'I'm the only one who understands. And I'd say you were entirely in the right.'

"What?" Before he could stop himself, his voice burst out.

'It hurts your pride, doesn't it, having to apologize to a demon? But think about it. Who put you in such a position in the first place? Wasn't it your liege?'

"No, no," Zenith protested, all thoughts of ignoring the voice forgotten. 

'It was.' The voice went on, savage with delight. 'If your liege hadn't accepted the demon and his accomplice on board, this never would have happened. It's all her fault in the end.'

"No, it was mine. I, I distrusted her...." 

'With good reason. It's not like she trusts you, is it?'

Another shiver wracked his body. "She does!"

'If she did, she wouldn't dismiss your concerns so easily. She didn't even pretend to listen to you. Really, it's plain that she trusts those demons more than she ever trusted you.'

Lies. Utter lies. Zenith shouldn't listen, but – but – 

'And here you are still trying to defend her. She's trained you well, hasn't she? What a loyal dog you are.

'But she views you as even less than a dog. Think about how easily she lied to you this entire time. If she really trusted you, she would have told you about her wizardry long ago.'

"No!" Zenith yelled, bolting upright. The blanket slid down from his shoulders, letting the icy air of the bedroom rush in, but he barely felt it.

Something was throbbing in the deepest crevices of his being, a congealed, pitch-black ball of all his worst emotions. All the things he didn't want to acknowledge. But piece by piece, the voice was unpeeling the layers he so carefully used to keep it hidden, revealing the wound that festered underneath.

This whole time, he'd told himself not to think about it. To accept his liege's words, her reasons. It wasn't that she didn't trust him. Indeed, he should have been flattered that she had revealed her secret in order to save him.

Still, still – 

His breathing came quicker and quicker, yet he couldn't seem to get enough air. Which didn't make sense, he didn't need to breathe, so why – 

Shorter and shallower, desperate gasps like a dying man. The room spun around him, dancing with dark dots. 

He was going to go insane. Lose his mind. And maybe that would be for the better....

Just then, something flared in a place even deeper than his core. A spark of light, soft as dawn. Though it didn't chase away the darkness, it eased the pressure gripping his chest just the slightest amount.

The door clicked open, a line of light spilling in from the hall. Tentative footsteps rang across the floor.

Shuddering all over, Zenith turned to face the boy standing in the doorway.

"Zenith," Theo said softly. "Are you okay?"