Title: Make Your Peace
Author: Ari
Warnings: Shounen ai, Character death, violence, swearing, M for language and violenc.
Disclaimer: Fayt and co aren't mine.
Summary: Journeying together, Albel repeatedly lashes out at Fayt, trying to get the smaller man to unleash his power and allow him a challenge. In the mean time, Fayt is wasting away from mental anguish and repeated abuse from the one person he can't seem to leave behind.
Part 1 of 4.
XXXXXXXXXXX// I'm addicted
To your punishment
And you're the master
And I am craving this disaster//
XXXXXXXXXXX
Fayt had followed him.
It was true. Everyone thought when Fayt returned to Elicoor 2, that Albel had tagged along with him from sheer boredom. But that was laughable. Albel would never follow someone around like a lost child. He was 24, an adult, and he could very easily get along just fine by himself. Truthfully, having a 19-year-old boy following him was quite irritating. Fayt was a mess, emotionally and physically, and Albel never gave a flying shit about anyone but himself. Even if they'd worked together to save the world. Fayt was more of a burden than an asset in his current condition.
Fayt moved in his sleep, knocking Albel's arm with his. Their bedrolls were quite close. Greeton was much farther north than either of them had realized, and it made Airyglyph's winters look like Aquaria's summers. Albel slept as little as possible. If he didn't sleep, he couldn't dream, and he liked it that way. Albel stared down at Fayt's arm. His wrist bones were so fine, and his skin was a milky white, off set by harsh blue veins. When people took notice, Fayt said it was the cold. Albel stood and stalked away, let the runt freeze. What did he care?
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Fayt pushed up on his blade, his arms were quivering and sweat was running into his eyes even though snow covered the ground at least a foot thick. Albel pushed down, his thin Katana easily forcing Fayt back singled handedly. The cold didn't seem to interfere with Albel's strength; skirt or not. Must be because of Airyglyph winters.
The snow was a white canvas colored with enough red polka dots to make Albel's eyes shine. The Wicked One took a swing at him with his claw, forcing Fayt to break away and jump back, but even so, metal ripped through skin and Fayt stumbled, grabbing at his stomach with blood flowing through his fingers.
"Air slash of fury!"
Fayt crouched to the ground, holding his sword up in defense, blocking as may razor airwaves as he could. He was panting, and he wouldn't last much longer. "Come on, fool! Do it! Use it!" Albel screamed in wild rage. He was sorely tempted to dash up and pummel Fayt until all the anger he had built up over the past few months forced Fayt into unleashing his Destruction power. He wanted, no, he needed Fayt to attack him with everything. He needed some sort of danger. Some sort of challenge. Fayt could do it, if he'd let go of the fear of killing him!
"No!" Fayt growled out from the ground where he was huddled, his sword stuck in the ground in front of him to pull himself up on shaky legs. "No, I wont kill you!"
Suddenly filled with uncontrollable rage, Albel screamed out as many Palms of Destructions as his fury and MP would allow. "Keh, maggot!" he hissed and he walked away, leaving Fayt's body crumpled in the snow. The runt could fix himself.
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"I'm sorry," Albel sniffed insignificantly not even glancing over. Fayt sat cross-legged on his bedroll ignoring him, casting multiple Healings on his stomach. They'd run out of Physical Enhancers weeks ago, and still hadn't reached a town. Greeton's towns were few and far between. They had to cross miles of thick forests or stretches of barren landscape to reach one. Fayt figured they still had a couple days to go until the next one.
Fayt ran out of MP and sighed, but at least the bleeding had stopped and no ribs were broken. This time. He'd be in trouble tomorrow. Albel seemed determined to force out his Destruction powers, and was relentless everyday. And everyday, Fayt took it, refusing to give in.
"Here." Albel tossed half a Steamed Bun that hadn't steamed in days to him. Fayt caught it and tossed it aside.
"Not hungry."
"Fine. Starve."
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"I'm going to the Grocer for supplies. Go get a room."
Albel didn't bother arguing. It was logical.
This town was smaller than the last. Greeton wasn't as advanced as everyone thought they were. Sure, they had metal holes in the wall that made rooms warm, and they had metal, tireless, transport that roared and spit out dark fumes, but other than that, they weren't that great. Their buildings were still wood, only supported in certain areas with metal. It wasn't all that special.
Fayt kicked open the door, his bandaged arms holding bags full of supplies that he dropped on the floor. Albel snorted at how skinny he was, his shirt was hanging from his shoulders, it had originally been well fitted, and his pants were held up with a thick belt, several new holes stabbed through it. Fayt shuffled through some bags and tossed Albel a Dragon Pot Sticker and then started stripping his sword off his waist for bed.
"Are you going to eat?" Albel asked out of habit, knowing the answer.
"No." He pulled back the blankets and slipped under them. "I'm not hungry, I just want to sleep."
"I went to the Outfitter and replaced the broken Green Talisman."
"Good." Fayt mumbled absently.
"I also pawned your communicator for some extra Blueberries." Albel glanced at him to see if he reacted.
"Whatever."
Albel huffed and pushed the button to turn out the lights.
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Albel never slept. Or at least, he slept as little as possible. So when Fayt, still mostly asleep, snuck into his bed with him he just rolled his eyes and made sure the thin boy was covered, and went back to his silent mussing. It was a regular occurrence. It happened every time they stayed at an inn and Albel never brought it up the next morning. He just figured Fayt got cold, and nothing was warmer than body heat. He doubted Fayt even realized he did it.
Eve
n in the dark, Albel could see the dark circles under the boy's eyes, and the sunken cheeks. The boy couldn't weight more than 90 lbs anymore. Albel could wrap his hand all the way around the boy's upper arm. Not that it was his problem. If Fayt didn't want to eat, Albel didn't care as long as Fayt would still spar with him.
The sun was coming up; so Albel left the room, leaving Fayt to clutch the blanket close to keep warm.
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Albel stared down at him harshly. "You'll never beat me unless you use it."
Fayt huddled in the snow, aware of the sticky liquid flowing from the crack in his head. "I wont do it."
"I'll hurt you as much as it takes to see it."
"I know."
"I'll kill you."
Fayt clenched his eyes shut. "Probably."
Albel glared. "If I kill you without seeing it, this pain will be pointless. I need it."
"I can't do it, Albel." Fayt couldn't feel his legs, though he found he really didn't care. The blood was melting the snow around him, and the coppery smell invaded his nose making him think of pennies.
"Why!" he screamed, slamming a foot into Fayt's gut hard enough to lift the boy from the ground. "Why won't you give me what I want! I want a fight and all you do is block! FIGHT ME!" he demanded.
"I won't hurt you."
Albel left him in the snow before he snapped and killed the boy.
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They'd made it another month, and their rendezvous with Maria and the Diplo was a welcomed blessing. It allowed both of them to stock up, rest, heal, and converse with people other than each other. Truthfully, Albel was glad they were back on the high tech ship, even if he did hate all the people on it. Fayt seriously needed some medical help, if the boy died before showing him a true challenge, then…well…Albel didn't know what he'd do, but it would probably end with a lot of dead people.
"What did you do to him?" Maria's glare barely made him flinch. "A cracked skull, hypothermia, broken ribs, dozens of laceration wounds, not to mention malnourished."
Albel rolled his eyes. "We were sparring."
"Then you should have healed him!"
"We were out of supplies, that's why we're here." He stared her down, his eyes boring into her like she was daft.
"Doesn't he eat? He barely weights 100lbs."
"No. He always says he isn't hungry." The Wicked One wondered why he was even explaining himself to the lowly child.
"Then you should make him eat."
"I'm not his babysitter."
And he left after that. He didn't need some stuffy, female teenager telling him what to do. If Fayt didn't want to eat, he didn't care. As long as the boy was alive and sparred with him, he needed nothing else.
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Maria sighed, swiping a strand of hair from her face as she turned back to the sleeping boy in front of her. She knew what a mental strain it was on a person to learn their parents had experimented on them, and then be thrust into a war they had nothing to do with, but surely Fayt could handle this better. She'd turned out okay after all.
She watched lazily as the bag of yellow-orange liquid slowly dripped nutrients directly into Fayt's blood stream. Hopefully, the boy would agree to remain here for at least a couple weeks, but she doubted it. Albel never stayed more than a week and a half, and Fayt, for some reason, always followed the psychotic man.
Sophia was often coming to her in tears, begging to be told where Fayt was, how he was doing, and if he was coming home. It didn't escape her notice that every time Fayt came back, he had more scars, weighed less, and seemed a little more withdrawn.
Cliff was pretty much the same, he just took a different approach than tears, he did anger. Demanding that Maria keep him here, away from that man. The others, Mirage, Nel, the children, just regarded him with sadness. After all, there really wasn't anything they could do, they'd tried their best, but Fayt would always leave, tagging along after Albel.
Maria spent a good amount of time wondering why Fayt followed him. If it was for sparring, he could get that here, with a lot less injuries. She doubted Albel went easy on him.
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Fayt slowly opened his eyes, disorient for a few moments and startled to find himself alone. Had Albel wandered off to kill helpless animals again? He looked around and was surprised to find himself in a medical room on the Diplo. Fayt didn't even remember being picked up.
The young man pushed himself up, ignoring the way his body groan and protested. His arm was uncomfortably bent and he spared the IV drip a glance before carefully pulling off the medical tape and removing the needle. It stung a little, but he'd never get any sleep in here. It was much too cold.
Fayt let out a strangled laugh, Greeton had been much colder, and he was only fooling himself by saying it was too cold. He knew exactly what was wrong, and it was that sleep eluded him unless he curled up next to a skinny, masochistic, man each night. He just refused to accept it. Denial was a wonderful thing for a person's psyche.
Fayt stood up on shaky legs and pulled off the ugly blue gown. He glanced down at himself, noticing the way his ribs showed and how sunken his hips were. He made a mental note to eat next time he was hungry. The only problem was, he was never hungry, and eating when you're not hungry was a good way to become over weight, so he'd just have to wait until his stomach ordered food.
The embodiment of Destruction pulled on his clothes and quietly exited the hospital room, his steps deliberately hurried in the direction of The Wicked One's room.
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Albel lounged on his bed, one arm behind his head, his other one thrown over his eyes to block out the light from the small lamp. He'd been on this ship for less than 48 hours and he was already restless. There just wasn't anything to kill on a ship. Well, actually, there were plenty of people to kill, but he doubted that would go over well with Fayt.
He just wanted to go back to the cold woods with the boy and spar.
He simply kept telling himself that next time they sparred, Fayt would loose control and unleash his powers.
His door creaked open and Albel remained still, his bandaged arm still flung over his eyes. He didn't have to look to know who it was. After all, he'd been waiting for him to come creeping in.
"Albel?" Fayt closed the door with a quiet click and made his way over to the bed. "You awake?" he asked like he didn't already know the answer.
The Wicked One stayed silent and simply clicked off the lamp as Fayt crawled under the blanket and curled into his side. Albel decided that he'd chance sleeping for once and dozed off.
XXXXXXXXXXX
Maria laid a gentle hand on Fayt's arm. "I wish you'd stay a little longer…"
"Albel's restless."
She rolled her eyes and glared. "You don't have to go with him, Fayt."
He smiled sadly. "Yeah, I do."
"Sophia's worried." She switched her tactics.
"If anything bad happens, I'll call on the communicator."
Maria sighed and gave up the fight. "You have all the supplies you'll need?"
"Nope, but we'll stock up when we run low." He grinned at her in a joking manner, but Maria was left wondering if he was really joking.
Albel hissed from his side of the room, straightening and stalking over to him. "Let's go, I need to kill something." Maria watched in faint interest as The Wicked One grabbed hold of Fayt's hand, twining their fingers absently as he pulled the boy to the transporter.
"When don't you need to kill something?" Fayt mumbled, allowing himself to be pulled into the device and beamed down to Greeton.
XXXXXXXXXXX
A couple weeks had passed since then, and Greeton's cold winter was passing into its cool summer. And Albel was a little grateful that the snow was melting. He might not let on that the cold bothered him, but it did.
He sprinted forward, thrusting his katana towards the pale boy, who parried it and side stepped out of his claws reach, and twisted his arm to arch a slash back up wards. Albel ducked and raised his clawed arm to block, grateful that he had no feeling left in the appendage.
"You're getting better, fool."
"I'd hope so." He panted, pushing down on his sword, trying to force Albel off kilter. He let out a quick Side Kick skill; sidestepping and then thrusting back in to hit Albel in the side.
"Vampire Flash."
The wall hit Fayt dead center, and his HP and MP began depleting rapidly, knocking him around and keeping him against it. He collapsed on the muddy ground, his sword falling from tired fingers.
Albel scowled down at the boy, he'd once again denied him what he truly wanted. Sparring was all well and good, and Fayt was getting better, but it still lacked any real challenge.
The Wicked One growled and made his way back to the camp.
XXXXXXXXXXX
Albel lazily applied some bandages to Fayt's back, while the boy clean up the ones on his arms and downed a few Physical and Mental Enhancers. Albel finished and dropped his arms, resting his gaze on the pale neck in front of him. Fayt head was tilted forward, baring the white neck to him and a few small veins were visible. Had Albel been a vampire, it would have been irresistible.
But Albel wasn't a vampire, so he began unrolling his bedroll and dropped onto it, his arms tucked behind his head, listening as Fayt moved around.
"Eat something." Albel mumbled.
"Don't want to."
"You need to. I'm sick of having simpering woman yell at me for not taking better care of you."
Fayt frowned and glanced over at Albel, but the Wicked One's eyes were closed. "Eating when you're not hungry is gluttonous…. I'll get fat." He added as an after though.
Albel snorted at that comment but left it alone. If the kid didn't want to eat, fine, whatever, as long as he didn't die.
Ignoring the fact that the snows were now gone, Fayt set up his bed roll close to Albel, curling up next to the insomniac who snuffed out the candle and settled down for the night with nothing but his thoughts.
Fayt had stopped trying to fall asleep on his own side, and Albel hadn't ever said a word about it, so snuggling up to the cold, harsh, man was slowly becoming the norm.
XXXXXXXXXXX
Fayt lay sprawled on the ground, the mud coating his back as he tried to catch his breath. There was blood and sweat seeping down forehead and arms, but what was new? Albel was calmly sitting propped up against a tree nearby, watching the younger man lay in a daze.
"Just show me the fucking power, Leingod." Fayt glanced up, squinting against the sun to start at Albel glaring down at him.
"You don't understand…" Fayt whispered, closing his eyes. "I'll never show you. Ever."
Albel snarled, giving Fayt a final swift kick in the collarbone before stomping off in anger.
Fayt sat up wearily and glanced around for his blade. "Healing." He whispered, allowing the MP to stitch up the cuts on his arm. "Healing." He said again, sealing the gash on his head. "Healing." He repaired his probably cracked shin. "Healing. Healing. Healing. Healing." He repeated the spell over and over, curing and stitching each injury he could with magic until his MP ran out again.
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Fayt watched Albel unsnap his claw and sword for the night. The fire making the contours of The Wicked One's face stand out even more. He was so angular, but it didn't look bad, it actually fit the man well.
Albel began wiping the weapons down, removing the mud from the cracks and the blood from the blades as Fayt munched slowly on a Steamed Bun. He glanced away from Albel for a moment to poke at the BBQ Pork on the fire to find it done. He tossed the meat at a bottle of Blue Moon Cider to Albel before going back to staring.
The temperature had gone up again so the tent wasn't pitched, the bedrolls were simply laid out around the fire, their packs dropped haphazardly next to them.
Fayt got bored of staring after a while, and went about fishing around in his pack for his Lunar Talisman. It had cracked sometime between here and the Diplo and needed repairing.
"You should be Engineering EM Stun Bombs, not repairing that useless thing." Albel's voice was low and he didn't even look up from his cleaning.
"You're better at Engineering. You do it if you care so much."
Albel didn't dignify that with an answer, but noticeably slowed his polishing at payback. He knew Fayt was waiting for him to finish so they could sleep, but Albel didn't sleep, so he'd settle down when he damn well felt like it.
He watched Fayt glare at him for slowing down before going back to his Talisman.
Finally, after an extra 20 minutes of polishing, just to make sure his katana was extra shiny; Albel set his weapons and cloth aside. "Come here fool. I know you're tired." He graced that with an eye-roll as Fayt put his tools away and crawled over to curl up against Albel's side.
The Wicked One hadn't planned on sleeping, like normal, but after a long moment of hesitation, he scooted down and threw an arm across Fayt's side. It wasn't a gesture of feelings or any such rubbish like that; it was simply more comfortable of course.
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Fayt let out a strangled cry as The Wicked Ones katana sank through his shoulder, just below his collarbone, and sinking into the tree behind him. Albel pulled the blade back and practically cackled at the sigh of blood pouring from Fayt.
"Do it, Fayt!" he shouted gleefully, resting his blade against Fayt's slim neck. "Show me. Hurt me."
Fayt cracked open a pained eye, his hands clutching at the wound in his shoulder, trying to stop the flow. Albel's eyes were shining, the smile on his face had never been bigger, and he was practically shaking in anticipation.
"No…" Fayt gritted out through his teeth, wincing in pain and fear as Albel pressed the katana's blade slightly into his neck. Fayt could felt he tiny, paper like cut, and it stung.
"Hurt me, you fucking fool!" Albel ripped the sword quickly along the side of Fayt's neck, ignoring the way the boy cried out and moved to clutch there also.
"I wont hurt you, Albel!"
The Wicked One cried out again, raising his claw and slamming it into the side of Fayt's head. "You don't understand! You're the only one who can hurt me! DO IT!" he roared, watching without a shred of guilt as Fayt slid down to the ground, most likely unconscious.
"…No…" the smaller man mumbled out, trying to stay awake.
Albel stared down at him in disgust, debating whether he should leave the maggot to fend for himself or help heal him. He sighed as Fayt dropped out of consciousness. If the idiot bled to death, he'd never see the power.
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"You could've taken it easier on me…" Fayt grumbled out from Albel's side. His head still hurt.
"You could've given in and showed me the damn power." Albel debated leaving the rat to sleep in the cold, but he was comfortable. Plus, he'd been having fewer nightmares lately, and that was always a good thing.
"I'll never show you, Albel."
"Why?"
"You wouldn't understand."
"Scared of killing me?" Albel sneered.
"Yes."
XXXXXXXXXXX
//Wake up
Are you alive?
Will you listen to me?
Insane
You're gonna die
When you listen to me//
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I simply fixed some typos and such. I also got a comment saying I shouldn't use the term MP, and stick with strength or stamina, since it made them seem stuck in the game. I don't agree. Truthfully, because of 4D space, they ARE in a game. Plus I'm trying to keep it linear with the actual game. I've also tried sticking in random things like the Lunar Talisman and different dishes you can make through item creation, just to add to the story. I always got a kick out of it when people did that.
Well, the idea for this little two-part story that's morphed into four parts came to me a while ago. I was rather depressed…can you tell? I'm actually becoming quite attached to this fic, and as nice as sappy, fluffy fics are, this is really how I would picture Albel and Fayt's relationship.
There were a ton of songs I wanted to put in here, I found a lot that would fit for this story plot, but putting lyrics through out the story seemed to ruin it. So I choose two verses that I thought fit the best and put one at the start and one at the end. The first one is from "Getting Away With Murder" by Papa Roach. And the last one is from "Voices" by Disturbed. I choose the first one, because it really fits Fayt in this story, and the second one is for Albel.
If anyone can come up with a better summary, it'd be much appreciated. I really had a hard time with this one, and wasn't happy with it at all!
Please review, I really want to know what you all think. I really tried to stay in character, but obviously, I had to bend the rules a little, for Fayt at least….