I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry…
He crouched over his body, unable to stop the cascade of tears, unable to contain his sorrow, his fear… Elliot.
He was dead.
And it was his fault.
Dead.
Dead..
DEAD.
No more days in one another's presence, no more arguments
Elliot was dead.
His fault…
Elliot…
I'm sorry!
Madness racked his brain, and he couldn't stop it. The tears that wouldn't fall built up behind his eyes, causing headaches, and blurred vision. He just wanted to curl up and die, to reach through the mirror, where he would think he would see him, and break it and himself into a million pieces.
Disappear.
He just wanted to disappear.
Disappear.
What was his life's purpose without his master? What was life without Elliot? His only friend. His life. His purpose.
There was none. Darkness spun about him in an empty world, which he could find no means to escape. Why? He didn't want to live. He didn't want to exist.
Disappear.
If he hadn't existed, elliot wouldn't have died.
He wanted to scream to the night hours that it was his fault. All his fault, his fault! His fault that those penetrating blue eyes would never see again, that that mouth would never smile. that the self assured voice would never again be heard.
Disappear.
Yet he could hear him in his head, laughing. At him. "You're fault… you're fault." And he didn't care that the voice wasn't real. That he was driving himself insane. He would just fall silent, and listen to that voice, and he wanted to cry, but he couldn't. And then it would twist into the cold voice that Leo didn't like. The one he wanted to hide from. "You're fault Leo. Selfish boy. Foolish boy." Ridiculing him for hours on end. He knew he was selfish. He'd known for ages. Ever since he had made Elliot, his best friend, his only friend an illegal contractor. Life hadn't seemed worth it without him. And it wasn't. Indeed, it wasn't a life at all. It was worse than death and hell. It was never stopping pain, and he just wanted it to end…
Disappear!
"I'm sorry, Leo."
Vincent Nightray's words hung in the air, even moments after he had spoken them, and if he had had the will to, he would have clung to them for dear life, looking for some source of hope.
Elliot's last words.
They sent shivers down his spine, and suddenly, the tears sprung free of his eyes, and trickled slowly down his cheeks. And he didn't care. He was crying. And that in itself was something.
And then it hit him again in a wave, , self loathing. Elliot had apologized to him, yet he'd never apologized to Elliot… and now Elliot was dead, and Leo was sitting in Elliot's own house, in new clothes, talking to Elliot's elder brother, and it had been all Leo's fault, and now… Elliot was dead.
Dead..
He felt words leave his mouth, but he hardly knew what he was saying anymore. He wanted to be alone, he wanted to hide, he wanted to die…
Elliot's elder brother had continued talking, and even though Leo wasn't really sure if he was actually really listening or not, but he could understand the tone, the pain in the words, the frustration…
They both wanted to disappear. To never existed. Everything was their faults.
HIS fault.
He shouldn't have existed. It would have been better that way.
And that voice , the one he could put a name to now – what a hateful name – reminded him yet again.
His fault…his fault…
He could feel the blood soaking his fingers, see it staining his fingers a dark crimson. His blood. And he could feel more tears beginning to well up. His fault.
If he hadn't been selfish, if he had just been a good servant, a good friend…
I'm sorry, Leo.
He clenched his hands into fists.
Why?
Why did he have to apologize?
Elliot…
It was his fault. Not Elliot's.
Elliot could not have been held accountable.
Not for his actions.
And now Leo wanted to hide. To disappear from the earth, from everything, to be erased…
He was an idiot. A selfish idiot who deserved to die.
He longed to end himself. There. Then. Take those gleaming scissors from the elder nightray's hand and just make everything stop.
He just wanted – needed- the pain to end.
He needed to make things right.
Yet, as he sat there, lost in his own writhing, painful thoughts, with hardly any control over his sanity let alone his actions, he couldn't do it.
He couldn't do it.
Elliot had been too much a part of him. His light, the one that kept him from succumbing to the darkness that was already taking his everything. The shadows that were twisting his heart and mind to pieces, waiting for them to give out. To break.
And so.
He couldn't do it.
He should be struggling for life! And should resist death!
Self sacrifice had been the thing Elliot had despised most.
And so he couldn't do it. Even though he should have. Though he needed to. Though he wanted to.
He couldn't.
He just couldn't.
Selfish.
He was still being selfish. Very selfish. Unbearably selfish. Nothing had changed.
Everything was still his fault.
And Elliot would only have hated him if he had taken the easy way out.
He had done so much harm.
He had been such a horrible companion.
And everything was just ABSOUTLEY his fault.
So he wouldn't do it.
Not yet.
Not then.
He'd wait.
Let the pain continue, consume, torture…
Punish.
He had to stop.
He had to face this.
It was his fault.
HIS FAULT.
"I'm tired." He rasped out, terror gripping him, "Of hiding."
He chocked back a sob that would have to wait.
His fault.
Wait for me…
The world wavered,cold, uneven and bare before him, as his bangs were brushed aside.
An empty world.
An unforgiving one.
But it was his fault.
Elliot… I'm sorry…
