Title: Wish for Me
Genre: Angst/Romance
Pairing: Darkrai x Jirachi
Warnings: It's slash, BL, malexmale, but nothing graphic, just fluff and the like. But hey, don't like it, don't read it.
Author's Note: Well, my friend asked me to do this pairing, so, well, I thought I'd give it a try. It'll have around eight chapters, but each chapter'll be around 1000 words long. Relatively short, but that's the idea. Well, hope you guys like it. This is about wishing, so I'd love to hear about the stuff you guys wish on, eh? Awesome. As usual, R&R would be awesome!
On with the fic!
Wish for Me
It's like trying to find constellations in a cloudy, murky sky.
Jirachi. Jirachi, he repeats again and again. He mouths the name to himself, lets it roll off of his tongue, grasps blindly for the memories that once came with it. The name that once described who he was, every vowel and consonant and specific pronunciation a chapter in his life forgotten.
His name means nothing to him.
His name isn't even his anymore.
A feeling curls deep in his stomach, a monster of barbs and hooks clawing at sickly butterflies of a ruined intuition, a raging storm of fear and uncertainty and pain raging out in a sea of darkness and terror. Bile is creeping up his throat, and he clenches his teeth, swallows so thickly it hurts, curls his small, stubby white legs closer to his chest, and buries his face into his knees.
Something in him hurts, a long, slow throbbing like the limp of a sick beast.
It's what it feels like to be lost.
"He needs more time!"
That's Darkrai, legendary of nightmares, master of the shadows, tall and dark, his presence like a smear of absence against the bright white marble of the Judgement Room's doming walls. His figure is rigid, his clenched fists and glowering electric blue eye like a shard of neon sky the only indication of his contained fury.
Darkrai. It's the only name that feels like the wind brushing against his skin, the sun glinting in his eyes, the smell of fresh rain and the green of waving ferns. Where everything else in his mind is shattered- wisps of muscle memory and instinct, Darkrai stays firm and familiar, the only connection to a life he can't remember.
Darkrai. Darkrai, he repeats silently, like a promise. The sick creature in his stomach is quelled a little longer.
"... a defense mechanism." Another legendary is saying. Uxie, he thinks. There are many, many legendaries in this room, and every single one of them radiates power and grace. Uxie is a lot like him, small, but with an aura of responsibility and knowledge. Like he could map the world, everything that ever was, even with his eyes permanently closed.
"... considering what they did to him..." The legendary of Knowledge continues, "... to forget those things..."
Darkrai is growling, a low, terrible rumble like the trembling of black clouds. "Damned humans." He hisses, "To go this far-!" He shakes his head, his voice strained. "Why him? Why did it have to be him!"
"As opposed to who, Darkrai?" Another sneers. He doesn't know this one's name, only that she's like an explosion of golden needles, prickling with bitter electricity. She's almost painful to look at. "There's no use for a legendary that can't do his job. He's dangerous now, not knowing his limits, how powerful he really is." Her black eyes narrow, and she huffs, "We would be better off if he had just died-"
"How dare you!" Darkrai all but snarls, cutting the great avian off and lunging at her with claws surrounded in black tendrils of energy. She jumps away quickly, albeit clumsily with her allowed space, just dodging the sharp black gashes that seem to imprint the very air before they fade away into nonexistence.
The Being of All merely watches.
He feels sick.
Every one of Darkrai's words are cold and dark, like the shadow in the long hallway, fleeting and frigid and vicious. "You bitter, selfish, hideously evil waste of space, I should rip your eyes out and torment you with your deepest fears!"
The electric one laughs almost hysterically, "You talk tough now, Darkrai." Mockery. "It's a shame you didn't use that bravado to save your little shooting star over here." Her eyes are thin and cruel, "You failed, Darkrai."
Darkrai is livid with anger, "At least he's still alive." Darkrai says softly, his words heavy with meaning, his intention to tear her apart clear in his visible plasma eye. She stiffens in surprise, needle-like feathers shuddering, before she juts her sword-like beak out and sends whirls and jagged branches of electricity over her spiked plumage. "Moltres is dead, Zapdos." Is that the bitter one's name? Zapdos? And who is Moltres? "He's not coming back, and you know why? Because you failed far worst than I did."
"Shut up." Zapdos' voice is quiet, like the moment before thunder claps. "You go too far, Darkrai."
"You did first." He retorts, "At least there's a chance now that I can help him, that I can save him. But you? You lost that chance. You lost that chance because you killed him, Zapdos!"
"He was dangerous and out of control, Darkrai!" She shrieks, bolts of lightening dropping from her feathers and scorching the floor. Her voice bounces along the marble surfaces again and again and again, delving deeper and deeper into his mind. "You saw what he did to those cities, how many Pokemon he killed!" She jerked her head towards him, desolate and curled into a submissive ball, "You've seen what happens when a legendary forgets who they are!"
Jirachi. Jirachi, he repeats, hands over his clenched eyes, fighting back tears.
Idon'tsayitpleasedon'tpleasepleaseplease...
I don't want to know what I'm going to become.
"Please." He whispers. Darkrai turns suddenly, Zapdos forgotten, his fury evaporating like water under the summer sun. That feeling of familiarity washes over him, like he can almost recall something, anything in that gray haze that dominates all of the forgotten things in his dazed and ruined mind, like a neon blue light is so close, so close to fighting that infinite fog.
"You're going to be alright." Darkrai murmured, stepping closer on those long legs like the stretches of shadows at dusk. He crouches down, offers him his hand, searches his face for any thread of memory. "Jirachi."
When Darkrai says his name, he feels something in his mind stir- broken, but there.
He takes his hand, and holds on.