TW: offscreen underage… sex? Sexting? I don't even know what it is (it is however fully consensual), discussed suicide attempts, discussed mental illness/ableism, joking self-referential sanism, implied alcoholism, character death/grieving, self-destructive behaviour, torture, forced nudity, deliberate dissociation, and holy hell this is a long list of TWs. TLDR; There's underage Consensual Sex, a Torture Scene, and Incredibly Bad Trauma Coping Skills.

Song is by Gomez, and made particularly famous by the Grey's Anatomy musical episode! Kevin McKidd is a good damn singer.

~17~

Please come here
Come right on over
And when we collide we'll see what gets left over

-How We Operate

"Long enough?" Will sputtered. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Selim just raised an eyebrow at him. Will was submerged in a pool somewhere wild, the overhangs of trees becoming clearer as they passed through the edges of the mirror he was using. Truth be told, he hadn't been sure it would work. But he'd been getting tired of the not-talking-about-it. There was no way this didn't work two directions. Right?

Well, here was his answer.

Instead of answering each other, he and Will held their gaze for a long moment. Then Will spoke again, a rueful smile quirking up the side of his mouth.

"This explains… a lot."

"I was sure you were going to figure out by the time you asked Izumi," Selim said weakly.

"Okay, so how long have you known?"

"Since the transmutation. Vaguely."

"I – jesus shit Selim you could have said something."

"Yeah, but then I wouldn't see you in the bath."

Will blinked – then gasped in mock horror, pulling his knees up to his chest. "You bastard."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before!"

"I was five. I like to think I've grown considerably since thing. In many ways," he added archly.

Selim snorted, glancing away for a second, then returning his eyes to the mirror.

"You disappeared for a sec. What was that?"

"Oh, I'm – We don't usually actually see each other."

Will nodded thoughtfully. "I think whenever I actually see something it's…what you're looking at, right? Assuming," he added cynically, "that I'm not hallucinating this whole thing."

"How likely is that?"

"I just spent most of today bitching at my dead mother, who bitched right back."

"…Noted." Selim managed not to laugh. Damn it. Will always managed to make the worst things sound absolutely hysterical. It was, probably, terrible. "I'm using the mirror as a refraction lens. So you're looking through my eyes, and seeing what I'm seeing, but I'm also seeing what you're seeing because you're looking at a mirror through me-"

"That sounds hopelessly complicated."

"What about this isn't?"

Will sank into the water and burbled thoughtfully. Fair point.

Selim suppressed another snicker. He figured talking out loud was a little easier – it made it a little less complicated – but he imagined Will hadn't really realized how much Selim could pick up. "So how much do…" His mouth went a little dry. He'd been practicing this part for years. On the off chance he wasn't crazy. "When…"

"You're asking me what this feels like from my end."

"Yeah."

"I'm… I'm not sure. People talk about empathy like it's a normal thing. I just kind of thought that's what it was."

"Will. That's something you get with everybody! Or- uh-" Now Selim was doubting himself. Worst thing was, Will was snickering on the other end.

"See! Not so simple! Besides, you're like one of the only people I give a shit about, so it made sense to me."

He felt his cheeks getting a little hot at that. Will had said it so casually, too.

"Anyway, I guess I… know how you're feeling, most of the time? Fairly specifically, too." Will fidgeted. "…This feels weird."

"It does. I just… I thought it was just me. For years. And then…"

"Then what?"

Selim's blush deepened. "Oh, uh, at the lab." He meant the flirting, but there was plenty that Will could take from that. "I was starting to wonder."

"That's sort of where I caught on, too. And I kept thinking about it, you know? Kept…" Will tugged at the grass on the side of the pool. "I shouldn't know when you're hurt, or scared, or." He smirked suddenly. "Horny."

Oh god. He probably looked like a tomato. "Sh-shut up."

"Hey, you asked."

"I – god, I did. Fine. Whatever."

"It's mostly when we're close together. This bit is new."

"Really?" Selim couldn't help the shock. "Shit, I'll feel you throwing something at a wall all the way over here."

"Damn. I guess it's not the same for both of us?"

"I think it's because you're…" Selim fumbled over the words. "I get it the most with strong emotion. You're… uh…"

"Insane?"

"Passionate," Selim offered instead, a little indignantly. "Your thoughts are so loud."

"That… tracks, actually." Will was looking at him so curiously. "Even under that mask of yours you're remarkably quiet. I notice how you're feeling, but it's like a whisper compared to some of the screaming that happens in my head."

Selim had to force himself not to look away. The connection would break. But… god. It felt like being stripped naked, having somebody else realize that about him. He usually sat with himself in the dark, wondering if there was something wrong with him for not feeling things the same way others seemed to. And Will's emotions, the jagged edges of his thoughts, sometimes hurt with how strong they were.

"You okay?" Will asked, even though he probably knew for a fact how Selim was feeling.

"Yeah. I think. Yeah, just…" Selim rubbed the pad of his thumb against the edge of his fingers. "I haven't… decided how I actually feel about this."

"Kind of with you there. Not that this isn't kind of nice."

"Where are you, anyway?"

Will snorted. "I'm at my teacher's. Actually, I'm on an island in the middle of nowhere because my teacher was going to put me on here with Alex, realized Alex wasn't here, and I told her I could do it anyway. Turns out being alone with my thoughts kind of sucks."

"…You still haven't heard from him?"

Will shook his head, smile fading. "I was hoping he might have shown up in Rizenbul."

"Me too, but…"

"How the fuck did you – right, you spy on me."

"It's not spying!"

"Right. Strong emotion." Then Will winced. "Which means that whole gun business was not nearly as much of a surprise as you played it off as."

It took a moment for Selim to catch up, and then he remembered what Will was talking about. The spiral over the Red Stones, and the gun pointed at his face. That probably should have freaked him out more. A lot more. But… But he'd been able to feel the confusion, the hurt, the terror. It made perfect sense to him that Will was going to act out.

"Do you…" Will cleared his throat. "That means you know about the other times."

"I don't think I knew what they were at the time, but yeah, looking back, I figured it out."

"Are you mad at me?"

Selim blinked in surprise. "What? Why would I be mad?"

The boy on the other side of the mirror suddenly looked so young, so surprised, so scared, that Selim had a hard time reminding himself that Will was more than a year older. He didn't say anything, but the fear billowed up behind him like a column of smoke. What the hell had Alex said to him? Selim only had the outlines, the sketches in charcoal of something messy and hurtful.

Selim took a few steps backwards, sitting on the edge of the tub. "I don't… I've never felt like I wanted to hurt myself. But I'm not you. And the way you feel makes sense. I mean I don't – I don't recommend it. I'm actually pretty invested in you staying alive, thanks."

A small smile quirked at the edge of Will's lips, and he wrapped his arms around his legs. "I don't… want to talk about this."

"That's okay." It also meant Selim didn't have to go into the physical side of things. He didn't want to put that on Will, especially since Will clearly didn't get it to the same degree. Although that made sense. How often did Selim get hurt making automail?

"I promise, for the record," he said a little more brightly, "I don't have any more gun-waving psychosis planned. Your brain is safe."

"Oh god, that sounds so bad out of context."

Will chucked a rock at him. Which, predictably, just ended up clattering against a tree somewhere. "Yeah, because the context helps so much. Sir, my bo- best friend and I are communicating through methods unknown and may or may not be astral projecting, and I couldn't tell because I keep hallucinating my dead mother."

"Please stop making it funny."

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to laugh loudly enough to wake up my dad and neither of us want that."

Will snorted. "He can't see me, and unless you've got your dick out, all you have to say is that my crazy is contagious."

Selim stuck out his tongue, trying to hide the way his body was reacting to that. Dear lord. He did not want to admit to Will how much he'd seen. Felt. Whatever. Or think too hard about the potential for abuse.

"You know I can feel you getting horny from here."

"I'm- I'm gonna figure out how to kill you long-distance. Just for that comment," Selim stammered.

The smile creeping across Will's face was somewhat reminiscent of a fox in a henhouse. It didn't help that Selim couldn't keep his eyes off him – either practically or…at all. He looked good. Skinny, but that was normal; he didn't eat enough, and even when he did, he was too slender, too bony, wiry muscle wrapping around his limbs like rope pulled taut. But it had been a long time since Selim had seen him like this. Not just naked. Despite his joking, he didn't seem in the slightest bit concerned that Selim could see him. He was enjoying it – the way Selim's eyes lingered on his wet purple hair sticking to the bolts of his automail, the scars at the port, the curve of his neck…

Did – did they talk about it? Did they actually spit it out? Or did they just pretend this was a conversation about something else entirely? And of course, because he was feeling nervous, Will was getting nervous, and how fucking typical was it that they were apparently this in tune with each other's emotions and still couldn't just admit they liked each other?

He tore his eyes from the mirror, breaking the connection with a rising sense of embarrassment. He'd spent so long worried about hiding whatever… this was, dismissing his sexual proclivities with a laugh as Practically Irrelevant. And now he was realizing with just a touch of horror that fooling around with Rodrick and whoever else was one thing. His feelings for Will were a complete other ballgame.

He stared down at the problem he now had on his hands, embarrassment mixing with sheer – well – horniness, was Will's word. He didn't dare do anything about it because Will would-

..well.

Was that so bad? He'd gotten an accidental dose of it before. But that had been accidental. Doing it on purpose seemed different. But Will wasn't doing anything that required concentration right now, and it wasn't like they'd be having sex. They weren't even in the same room.

Most of the time, he sighed, he didn't know Will was paying attention.

I think, came the sly whisper in his ear – and he was not used to actual communication – that you might be overthinking this.

They still hadn't talked about it. The other elephant in the room. But Selim could feel Will's desire in the back of his head, his encouragement –

"I hate you," he mumbled, trying to sound like he meant it as he undid the top button of his trousers.

Sheska Thomas was hitting the limits of what her books could help her with. Mostly, all the grieving in her books had plenty of swooning, frantic tears, and wasting away. None of them said anything about ignoring everybody you loved and refusing to come in to work for days at a time.

"Jareth," she sighed at the door, then hammered on it again. No response. She knew he was there. He just wasn't responding.

"I wouldn't bother," came the tired voice from behind her. "He hasn't been responding to me either."

Sheska's hand stuttered mid-knock. She hadn't been expecting – well, no, that wasn't true. She should have expected that the Colonel would be here. She hadn't expected her to look so…

…was awful a bad thing to say? Solaris didn't look bad. She looked exhausted. Anybody would. But it was still a little strange, seeing Colonel Solaris with bags under her eyes and no makeup. She also wasn't in uniform, which meant it took an extra half-second for Sheska to recognize her.

"Oh, no, please don't sa- never mind," the Colonel sighed. "I'm not here officially. You're his librarian girlfriend, right?"

"I'm not his girlfriend," Sheska replied stubbornly. Maybe a little too stubbornly. "I'm not taking him back that easily."

"And yet," the Colonel raised her cup of coffee to the door, "here you are."

Sheska didn't have a good response to that other than a dark, embarrassed blush. She liked Jareth. She wouldn't be so upset about the whole thing if she didn't like him – but she'd known it was too good to be true. Somebody like him, paying attention to somebody like her? No wonder she'd just accepted it when he disappeared. Now, though –

"Walk with me a bit." The Colonel indicated the elevator.

"Is– is he going to be okay?"

The Colonel just shrugged. "I hope so. He… gets like this, sometimes. It's a wonder he still has a job, but lucky for him I haven't said a word."

"You and the Lieutenant-Colonel were really close. All three of you."

The Colonel – Diana, Sheska remembered was her first name – hesitated at the elevator doors. "…Yes," she said finally. One word that said plenty.

Sheska rubbed her arms as she followed the Colonel into the elevator. She was even scarier up close. Jareth was tall, sure, but he slouched so much and usually had that sweet but devilish grin on his face. He was intimidating, sure, but in a different kind of way. Even out of uniform, the Colonel's back was ramrod-straight – she leaned into her height, whereas Jareth seemed happy for everybody else to forget he was almost a foot taller than some of the people around him.

"I don't believe any of those people," she said, finally. It sounded stupid as she said it, especially when Solaris turned her gaze on her. "The – the ones who –"

"The ones claiming I shot Maes?"

"Yeah," Sheska confirmed weakly. Damn it. She was trying to sound supportive, and it had just come out all weird.

Solaris's face bloomed into a soft, wry smile. "Appreciated."

"…Sir– ma'am – Colonel – what do you want with me?"

"No wonder he likes you. You're so earnest, it's sweet. Not a drop of guile in you at all."

"Once, I tried to lie about my age to get a discount on books," Sheska admitted. "I got so nervous I nearly started crying."

"…How on earth did Maes convince you to join up?"

"He didn't. All librarians are privates by default. Although he did make me learn how to salute properly."

Solaris laughed, a quiet thing that Sheska could have interpreted as mocking, but seemed… bewildered more than anything else. She really didn't seem quite… alright, today. Not that Sheska knew her well enough to know.

Once they were outside, Solaris took Sheska's hand, pressing something into it. "I've lost too many people lately," she murmured. "Make sure I don't lose another."

Sheska closed her fingers around the key, heartbeat speeding up. "I don't – is this a good idea? Shouldn't…" Her mouth went dry, and she stopped. She'd always assumed the Colonel was one of Jareth's other lovers, but maybe that was just her inadequacy speaking.

"Why aren't I doing it?"

She nodded.

Solaris tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I have… work to do. Life doesn't stop just because our best friend died."

That didn't seem fair. And Sheska wasn't good with people, usually assumed whatever conclusions she drew were false, but she had a pretty good idea that Solaris was lying to her. Plus, something seemed wrong with the way she was drinking her takeout coffee – the little grimace afterwards, and a glassiness to her eyes that didn't seem normal.

Still, she was worried about Jareth too. And if she managed to drag Jareth out of whatever pit he was in, Jareth would be able to help the Colonel. She had to believe that.

Where was she?

She had –

"There he is," Ranfan had said, pointing at the man they'd been following, keeping in stride with his qi along the flat rooftops of Central City.

What had happened after that?

"Sorry, Ranfan."

She'd handcuffed Ranfan to a balcony banister before disappearing down to face the shapeshifter.

Why?

I could do it myself. Easier.

Easier not to share.

She'd broken their promise. She meant to take care of Ranfan, of course. She loved her. But not enough –

-or too much? She'd known, somewhere, that he was dangerous. Assumed he was the dangerous one.

He hadn't been the one to hurt her.

"You're awake. Stop pretending you aren't."

Zhu Yingtai opened her eyes. It had been easier not to. Everything hurt. Everything stung.

The creature that she'd heard the shapeshifter call Riza Hawkeye sat on a chair across from her. It was remarkably beautiful – a wing chair upholstered in gilt and brocade that was only starting to show its age in the threads unweaving from the sides and the dust gathering on its dark-wood feet and arms. The whole room was like that, she realized as she looked around. Her bare feet were dangling tiptoe on a carpet so lushly woven out of silk and glitter that she could imagine people dancing on it, and the walls were painted in gold and emerald fresco, flaking at the edges and missing pieces. Her hands were tied to a ceiling chandelier wrought of bronze.

"Avoiding the obvious, aren't you?" Riza said quietly.

She was. Deliberately. It kept her calm.

She was strung up on the lamp, hands above her. Naked. Helpless.

And Riza – plain, ordinary, in comparison to the finery all around them – was holding a knife. Twirling it, actually, so idly that it might as well have been a pen.

"Zhu Yingtai, Juliet Douglas. Which one's real? Zhu, I assume."

"Yes," she responded, her lips numb. Ranfan. She'd handcuffed Ranfan, left her there- she'd be able to break out eventually, she should just go home, go home and find some other way to impress the clans –

"Stop worrying about other people," Riza commanded.

Juliet shut up. Juliet. She had to hold onto that name. She was going to be tortured. That much was clear. But if she was Juliet, and not Yingtai –

She can't get to anybody else through Juliet. Juliet Juliet Juliet, who was – nineteen, yes, but not a princess, not anybody at all, just somebody with an oversized ego and an inflated sense of importance – Juliet had been the actual firstborn, and not a pretender. Juliet had been born into real money, instead of empty coffers and a noble lineage. Juliet Douglas, who thought Xing was just a fairytale the same way that Yingtai wasn't really sure that Amestris was a real place-

"Can you read my mind?" she asked. She tried to sound stable, in control, but a little shake entered her voice right at the end.

Riza smiled a little at that – an almost soft expression. "No, nothing like that. Just your body." She wasn't wearing her glasses, and Yi – Juliet – could see the terrible designs in her eyes now. "Your heart, your stomach, your muscles… They tell me everything I need to know."

"Like what?" She couldn't help it. Yingtai took control, but she had to do better. Juliet Juliet Juliet. Yingtai was dead, Yingtai was gone, Yingtai was – somewhere else –

They trained you on this. Remember? They trained you on how to protect Bao.

"What's got you tensing up like that?" Riza asked.

"What?"

"The muscles in your neck."

Her mouth went dry. "How can you do that? See inside me?"

"I wouldn't answer that, but…" Riza flipped the knife, grabbing it by the blade. A trickle of blood ran down her arm. "I haven't been allowed much conversation lately. And this only ends one of two ways."

"Two? That's better than I expected."

Riza smiled thinly. "Either you swallow poison and become one of us, or you die. I think you want the first. Right? You were asking after the Stone."

Yingtai re-emerged, despite herself. She nodded.

Riza stood up slowly. She really was such an ordinary-looking woman. Still, quiet, with the kind of determined strength to her shoulders that you got from being a right hand. "How badly do you want it?" she asked. It sounded almost sad.

This was a trick question. "I – I want it, but not – I won't die for it."

A strange light danced in Riza's eyes, and she closed her eyes. "An interesting thing about me –I don't talk to strangers often. I don't talk to anybody often. I have a hard time with people. So when I find something important to me… I protect it. Sometimes I need reminding."

She couldn't figure out the relevance.

"The people I love are few and far between. Understand, Zhu?"

And then suddenly, she did.

"If you don't want to die for something," Riza said, still in that even, apologetic tone as she raised the knife, "don't be prepared to kill for it either."

When the knife carved into her shoulder, it was both of them – Yingtai and Juliet – who screamed.