Title: Five Stages

Prompt: 1."What have you known of loss that makes you different from other men?' (Gilgamesh)

Fandom: Darker Than Black

Characters/Pairing: April, July, Mina, Suo, Shion, Hei, Yin, Amber

A/N: Scenes from season 1 and 2.

Summary: The first stage is always the hardest to get through.

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Denial

There is no funeral for November. They are contractors, not meant to exist, and with his death there is the continuation of denial.

April still takes July there, though, to that makeshift grave. The flowers from last time have already wilted away and he stands there patiently as she puts a pack of smokes in front of the post and attaches the new bouquet.

"He doesn't like that pack," she admits as she pulls off the tape. "It has more nicotine than most. Unfortunately for him, that's the cheapest brand available."

She doesn't pull out a bottle from her bag this time, doesn't sit carefully on the curb and drink slowly as the hours pass.

They're being relocated, to Russia, and she doesn't have times for goodbye. Neither does he.

"We'll see you when we come back," she offers, her arms dangling at her sides. July reaches up for one, fingers curling around her hand, and they walk away.

Anger

Mina feels a lot of that, these days. Just pure, unadulterated rage. It runs through her blood like a current, just waiting to be released.

Genma approaches her, covering himself with layers of metal as he moves. As though that will protect him from the fire that's been burning since she saw the first bruise.

"Ready or not," Genma sings, the layers weaving together and hardening.

Yoko's bloodied and broken face stares at her and her grip tightens. A spring, a flash, and not even diamond can protect him from what she's about to unleash.

Bargaining

Shion doesn't remember who came up with the idea first. Was it his mother, crying and yelling as she cradled his sister's corpse? Or was it his father, fingers shaking as he put together all of the memories needed to bring her back?

He doesn't think it was him.

"Shion!" She yells his name as she cradles his figure. "What are you—"

Such a bad contractor, she is. All of her emotions are presented plainly across her face as she chokes on her grief.

"Shion!"

"Suo," he manages to work out before his body fails him. Suo. Suo. SuoSuoSuo.

If she's bad, he's worse. The last thing he sees is the new world staring at him from the sky.

Maybe this time, it will all work out.

Depression

His face is fixed in a permanent scowl, eyes dark and threatening. He's still angry, she knows. The sting of his slap still burns her cheek.

"Oh, Hei," Amber sighs out, fingers dancing across his face. "You need to have more patience."

He continues to glare. Hei shouldn't do that so much, he'll get wrinkles, and she presses her fingers hard against his forehead.

If she presses any harder, maybe the feel of her hands will be ingrained in his skin, long after she's gone.

"Goodbye," she whispers, stealing a kiss. He tastes like his rage.

Acceptance

It's easier than he expected, killing her. Her body is light in his arms and he thinks this might be a stage of shock. Or acceptance.

He hopes it's the latter; he's spent too much time in whisky bottles and dirty alleys to start again.

"Hei," and that voice is so Yin, so quiet and whispered, and he almost breaks. "Hei."

"Yin," he manages to reply, raising her face slightly. She opens her eyes and stares at him. Her body feels lighter still.

Maybe by the end of it, she'll vanish entirely, leaving him with a string of broken promises.

Her eyes start to close again and he gently presses his lips against hers before she stops entirely.

(And if he tasted like rage, then she tastes like regret.)