My fic load is shooting me in the face.
Basically, I wanted some epic, canon Went. So I wrote some. The rating WILL go up. I promise.
Dedicated to Zaz and ReadingChick, who got me into this pairing. Also dedicated to Brichan, even if my headcanon is her personal plaything.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Tsviets. Weiss is flawed if he's not free, you see. The song "Heaven Tonight" belongs to Hole, so I don't own that either.
Heaven Tonight
"I can't believe that I could be happy
Summer will come again,
I could be happy
Oh, stop your crying
You could be happy
Go to heaven when you make me happy."
~Heaven Tonight, Hole
Argent had always thought poetically. "A gift for expression," her mother had said, putting young Argent's hair into a long braid so that it wouldn't get in the way when she wrote, but also so that she wouldn't get paint or ink in it. Everyone around her had said that she could be a writer, a philosopher, a true artist when she grew up. Argent spent her days either sitting in the green fields with a sketch pad or moleskin notebook or hovering at her father's shoulder as he crafted ornate yet functional weaponry. It was his techniques Argent would later imitate when she made DeepGround's weapons.
At the tender age of fifteen, she had left the calm, rural house that she grew up in and was placed into DeepGround. No more painting or writing. Only a sword and a barrack. At first, she was rooming with five other women, then three others, then it was just her and Rosso sharing a room as Tsviets. Time certainly flew.
She might have companions and, when the Restrictor removed her eye in combat, she was given weapon-crafting and her role as a mentor, but rarely had she been allowed to write as much as she liked since she entered DeepGround. She could work metaphors into her speech for as long as she liked and even think in clever similes, but she was never allowed to put it all down on paper.
For example, when Rosso comes running up to her, Argent is reminded of a summer wind; ecstatic and free-whirling. Then again, Argent might be mistaking the bloodlust with glee. Rosso does take about as much enjoyment from murder as small children do from toys.
"It's going to happen!"
"Dismissed," Argent says to the soldiers in front of her before turning to Rosso. "What do you mean?"
"Weiss!" Rosso gleefully savors his name. Argent's ears can't help but do the same. Weiss is a victim of many of her poetic musings. Everything from his skin to his sword-technique has been catalogued in her head.
"He's going through with the plan then?"
"Azul and I just received the order. You should come down when you can." Rosso's words are quiet and fast, diving into the hushed air that tends to follow the Tsviets and cracking onto the stone floor between them. Argent gives an ostensibly casual shrug of her shoulder. She does technically have a mission to do, but its simple and her presence isn't mandatory anyway.
"I'll see what I can do."
"It will be amazing," Rosso gushes, as if the kill has already been made and she's watching the blood of the Restrictors pour out over her hands. The only thing that Rosso could be happier about than bloodshed was the bloodshed of someone who she truly hated. Luckily, Rosso would get both, as a nameless Tsviet-to-be would also get eliminated in the process. Just short of giggling Rosso dashes over to Azul who is waiting over by one of the corridors. Argent watches her and Azul turn the corner and walk down the hallway, down to Mako Reactor 0. Down to Weiss.
"Shelke, hurry up and find the next one." With that, Weiss turns and leaves the room. Argent calmly follows after him, along with Rosso and Azul. Truthfully, she is buzzing with something between excitement and dread. Although they have taken down one Restrictor, there are still more to deal with. When they are assembled in the annex leading to the Reactor, Weiss issues further orders.
"Rosso, go to the laboratories. Find everything you can about the virus in my system and report back in two hours. Kill anything that hinders your progress." Rosso gives a grim nod and practically flies out of the room, probably eager to slaughter someone who's vaguely innocent on her way to the laboratories.
Weiss turns his attention to Azul. "Get Nero off that pillar and bring him to the infirmary. After that, rally the soldiers. Find everyone loyal to me. Whoever isn't you can do what you see fit with. Don't tell anyone about the virus. I want that to stay within the Tsviets." With a sliver of teeth and rumbled, "Hail Weiss," Azul goes off to fulfill Weiss' orders.
Lastly, Weiss turns to Argent. They are, as far as Argent can tell, completely alone. He is grinning at her with a cocky ferocity that would have made most other people nervous. Argent matches him stare for stare. Finally Weiss takes the initiative, places his hands over her hips and pins her body to the wall behind her.
"We won," are the only words out of his mouth before claiming her mouth with his. The sudden contact takes Argent by surprise, but she responds positively, pulling Weiss closer to her. They had been seeing each other on-and-off for years. It wasn't to say that they had ever "officially" broken up, since they had never been "officially" together. Neither of them ever really had the time to cultivate the relationship, so it was a matter hanging up in the air.
After a few minutes of kissing, Weiss pulls back and hauls Argent off the wall with him. It's unexpected, but she goes with it. Moments later, Shelke walks through the door. Ah, there's the reason.
"Additional orders," Weiss informs her.
"Yes?"
"I'd like you to keep an eye on Nero while he's in the infirmary. I fear the Restrictors have been neglecting him over the past few weeks."
Shelke nods, taking the orders in as easily as air. She doesn't question why her and why not Weiss himself. This isn't only because of insubordination, but also because she knows why not Weiss: Because he has to take care of things before that virus eats away at his insides. "Very well."
After she leaves, Argent thinks that she's about to get kissed again. She doesn't. Instead, Weiss motions for her to follow him. She does and they walk down the hall. Weiss begins speaking, keeping his eyes firmly planted on the space ahead of them.
"I have three days before I die."
"Yes." Argent nods to that because there's not much else she can say. She's known it since Shelke told her about the virus in Weiss' system months and months ago. Then again, perhaps Weiss is reminding himself of what's about to happen. Affirming that this isn't just a regular nightmare that he can wake up from; this is DeepGround.
"I have a lot that I need to take care of. Things I need to finalize, last minute orders that need to be issued and carried out. Normally, I would want Nero's help with this but he's not in any condition to be running my will around DeepGround. The other three will be busy rallying support, researching possibilities to keep me alive and taking care of Nero. So I need you to help me tend to final business."
Argent is impressed with him, as she almost always is. His voice never wavers when he talks about what will inevitably be his final moments. Argent recalls a tussle between herself and a school bully when she was barely seven. She had baited the other girl into hitting her and met the tooth-loosening blow with a smirk and a set of crossed fingers. Now, seeing Weiss so close to death, she imagines that he'll be grinning in his final moment.
"I understand. I'll do everything I can for you, Weiss."
Weiss, having kicked the door in to a room full of files, turns to her. "Then let's get started." He makes a sweeping gesture into the room. "After you."
TBC
