Disclaimer: Infinite Undiscovery belongs to SquareEnix and associated parties. I am not one of those parties. Bummer. This is a work of fanfiction and is intended solely for the purpose of entertainment, and no money is to be made off of its creation.
Warnings: Non-con yaoi, angst, spoilers.
The weak light of the moon washed pale color over the figure hunched by the window, casting his face in deep shadow. Capell hesitated in the doorway, suddenly wondering if this was the wisest course of action. Years of abuse from his unblessed status had given the young musician a finely tuned radar for trouble, and the misery rolling off of Edward in thick, dark waves had that radar screaming. But Capell, despite all the suffering he had endured, was unable leave the grieving warrior. He had seen the others, shared their sorrow. He had only known Sigmund for a brief, albeit intense, amount of time, and his own heart hurt at the loss of the great Liberator. He would not turn from Sigmund's most fiercely devoted follower.
"Edward?" his voice was quiet, trying not to sound too weak. Edward was a firestorm of emotion on a good day; Capell figured the smallest wrong move could set him off. Therefore, he almost sagged with relief when all he received was a quiet grunt. Emboldened by the lack of violent response, Capell entered the room, clicking the door shut behind him. Still cautious, he approached the warrior the way one might a dangerous and wounded beast. Quietly, with light steps and a spring-loaded run reflex. He could see Edward's gaze fixed on a point on the floor, eyes all but glowing with pain and grief. That gaze didn't shift, even when Capell came even with him, the musician's gaze focused out the window. They stayed that way for a moment, while Capell tried to think of something, anything, he could say to ease Edward's turmoil. The others had been easier. Sad, grieving, but still hopeful. Nothing like this black-as-pitch suffering.
"Edward, I... I don't know what to tell you," Capell fell back on honesty. "Sigmund..." Capell froze as a heavy hand clamped on his wrist. Not quick enough. He jerked, but Edward didn't wield a greatsword for nothing.
"...why..." the single word, dripping with pain, was Capell's only warning before he was thrown roughly to the floor, and Edward was on top of him, pinning him to the carpet.
"Why do you look like him?!" Edward's voice was dangerous growl of misery, and Capell felt his heart pound wildly in response to the unspoken threat in his tone, the insane grief lighting his eyes. The musician sucked in a breath when Edward's head dropped to his chest. The warrior's shoulders heaved in barely controlled shudders, and Capell had a moment to think, to fear, and then Edward's hands were at his shirt, ripping at the ties. The musician yelped, eyes rounded with panic, before he started to struggle, hands shoving ineffectively at the broad shoulders above him.
"Why did he care about you so much?! I loved him!" Edward's voice was thick with barely controlled tears; Capell jumped as rough gloved hands found bare skin. He struggled to decide what to do; call for help, shame the Force, break the party's trust in one of their most powerful members? Destroy the mission, what Sigmund had given his health, and ultimately, his life, to achieve? Or ride out the storm, and pray Edward came to his senses? Edward's hands were yanking at his pants; Capell shut his eyes to what was happening, and prayed. His hands fisted in the back of Edward's jacket, and he flinched when hot tears splashed on his chest; Edward's breath came in shuddering sobs, mixed with muttered curses and accusations as he ripped at Capell's clothing. The musician's belly lurched when Edward fumbled with his own pants; his heart galloped harder, fear of the inevitable unknown spurring it on. Edward looked up at him; those insane, grieving eyes locked on his. Those big, gloved hands clamped on his hips.
"Why did he die for you?!" Edward snarled it as he surged forward, and Capell felt the accusation like a lance in the heart. He hissed at the first penetration; his vision went black with the pain for several heartbeats. His hands fell limply from Edward's back, hitting the carpet with a muffled thump. When he came around seconds later, the warrior's breath was a harsh rasp in his ear. The pain was a throb between his legs; it leaped rapidly in a vicious crescendo when Edward began to move, and Capell squeezed his eyes shut, hands fisting in the carpet for purchase. He grunted in time with the rough movements, struggling to distance himself from what was happening. From the pain of what was being done to him, and the wounds in his heart from Edward's sobbed accusations.
Capell was sure it went on for an eternity; Edward's harsh grunts and sobs, the rhythmic pain. And yet he was surprised when, so soon after it started, Edward inhaled sharply and jerked, and Capell felt heat where the warrior had invaded him. They both held still a long, quiet moment, as Edward caught his breath, and Capell waited to see if the storm had passed. Then Capell winced as the warrior drew out of his abused body, and grunted as Edward collapsed on top of him. His body was whimpering from the pain of what it had just endured, but Capell gritted his teeth and shifted, pushing Edward's limp body off of his. Edward flopped onto his side without a murmur of protest. Capell waited a moment, holding his breath, then risked looking at the other man. Edward's expression was quietly miserable. But that wild, insane grief seemed to have purged itself. At a terrible cost, to both of them. Capell shuddered out a breath, then pushed himself onto his side, meeting the warrior's gaze.
"I don't have any answers for you," he uttered quietly. Edward's gaze dropped, taking in Capell's torn clothing, the blossoming marks he had left on that much weaker body. On someone Sigmund had valued above his own life, his own mission. On someone who looked, so much, like the man he loved more than life itself.
"I don't deserve them," the warrior replied quietly, ashamed. Tears were gathering at the back of his throat again. Taking a risk, Capell reached up, cupping a hand to the back of Edward's neck, pulling him down so his head was tucked under Capell's chin.
"Maybe by the time we find those answers, you will," he offered quietly. The words broke something in the warrior, and he sobbed again, tucked safely in the shelter of the Liberator's imposter. Capell held him until his breath even and slowed, and wondered what would happen next.
Author's Note: I was pitifully shocked by how little fanfiction there was for this amazing game... and then this little spike jumped up and attacked me. I don't really intend for it to be a Capell/Edward sort of thing. If there's a cute little shipping code for them, I don't wanna know. Just gag me. At least not at this point. No idea if this will be a one-shot or not; the plot bunnies have been evasive and uncooperative for so long now, I don't trust them. I'm hoping they'll cooperate; I'd kind of like to not leave things hanging all dramatic like they are now. Until next time!
-Det
