"The two shades of green."
Chapter 21
"Bargaining with a terrorist"
Mario stormed out of the holding cell, eyes blazing in silent fury and hands shaking like leaves in a stormy wind.
He went past Peach, sat down on the nearest chair and desperately wished he had a whiskey bottle nearby.
He avoided the professor's eyes at all cost, keeping his head bowed.
This… that wasn't supposed to go that way.
Mario took in a shaky breath.
Luigi… L… or whatever he called himself now, was supposed to get scared. To slip into the Luigi persona, to be his little brother again…
But he didn't.
He wasn't shivering and shaking.
He wasn't covering in the corner.
He wasn't terrified of the idea of his own brother crushing his air pipe with his bare hand.
He wasn't Luigi.
Whoever that was… whoever it was he encountered inside that room… taunted him with what he was going to do…
Used it against him in a way he did not expect it to ever be used.
He didn't expect Luigi… L to actually enjoy being hurt.
"This… is wrong." Mario shook his head. "All wrong."
"No." The princess shook her head sadly. "It's always been wrong."
"You just realize it now because you've nearly crossed a line."
"It should have worked." Mario whispered. "Normally it would but now… this isn't…" he then buried his hands in his face. "I don't know what else to do."
Silence spread through the room, as no one knew what to say.
"We… we should…" a swallow. "We should… let him go."
Mario's face lifted from his hands.
"What?"
"We should let him go." Professor E. Gadd said, still not looking at them. "He isn't going to bend. This… this whole thing is immoral and... wrong. He should be set free." His fingers curl around his belt. "Before we end up doing something horrible."
"..."
For a second… nothing but deafening silence.
"No."
"Mario…"
"We can't let him go." The hero continued, lifting his tired head to look at the inventor, and his voice bearing no arguments. "Lui-he's still a danger." He then turned around. "He stays here. Where he can't hurt anyone."
Again silence.
No one knew what to say.
No one knew what to do.
"So... we're keeping him here to protect the citizens." swallows thickly. "But who will protect him… from us?"
There was no telling what other ideas they might come up with to bring back the man they lost so tragically.
And they nearly crossed the line not too long ago…
"This… this needs to stop." The tiny professor's voice was shaking as he leaned over his computer. "This insane joke has gone on long enough. I… I can't take much more of it."
"Then go home, professor." Mario said, not looking at him. "Go home and wash your hands off this situation"
And, for a second there, it looked like the small professor will do just that.
But… he didn't.
"He can't be brought back, Mario." whispered instead. "Not really."
"Not unless he wants to be."
The red brother froze and turned around to look at the small doctor.
"What do you mean?"
"The only way he becomes Luigi is if he willingly dons the mask again." said, keeping his eyes averted. "It has to be something he chooses, otherwise… it will never work."
The others stood in silence, taking in the meaning of those words.
"Then we'll make him put it on." Mario suddenly said, voice filled with the unhealthy determination that led to him going inside that blasted cell.
"How?"
And wasn't that the damnest question of them all?
How do they cope? (They don't)
How do they make it right? (They can't)
How do they bring him back? (Not like this, sweet Jades, not like this)
How?
At that the former hero took a deep calming breath before looking the professor in the eyes.
"We do what we never did." He answered cryptically.
"We bargain."
"What will it take?"
The question, spoken loudly in the all encompassing silence, jerked L out of his light slumber.
He lifted his head up to look at the person addressing him, wincing at stiffness that overtook his neck. Broken bones his magic heart can mend, but stiff muscles are another matter entirely.
It was Mario, the hero, the legend.
The Captor.
"What?" L asked, his voice horace from both disuse and dryness.
"What will it take for you to be him again?" The red clad hero practically growled out that sentence, and L could sense that he was nearing the end of his patience.
He wondered, briefly, how long before he really snaps and dares to do the unthinkable.
Wonders if he's insane enough to find out the answer.
"Him?" L asks, licking his cracked lips and tasting dry blood.
"My brother." Oh and was that a tiny crack in the fearless hero's voice? "Luigi."
"Luigi." L echoed after him, trying to get a feel of the name with his tongue.
It tasted… bitter, like hidden resentment and sickening jealousy, but also… sweet, like quiet pride and unconditional love.
It didn't suit him at all.
He frowned, and whispered his own name into the silent room.
"L."
It was short, just like the life he had, and tasted… rotten, like a corpse, a puppet with no strings and no purpose, but also… fresh, like eye-opening freedom and knowledge that he is not his masks and that their mistakes, their anxieties and fears, are not his.
He doesn't have to be anyone, but himself, even if he doesn't know who that is yet.
What would it take?
"Hm" L hummed moving his head from side to side. "Nothing." He finally answerd. "Because I won't do it."
"No?"
"No." The chained man repeated sternly, glaring up at the former hero. "And you can't make me."
"No?" Mario repeats, his voice filled with an unspoken challenge.
L snorted.
"Using pain doesn't work, you know that." He then smiled, all bloody gums and jagged teeth. "Unless… you want me to… enjoy the experience."
The hero blistered, thoroughly uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was going in, and L marveled at how easy it was to rattle this proud man.
"There must be something you want." If it wasn't for the hard edge in the smaller man's voice, L would almost think he was begging.
"There is one thing."
"What?" There was a spark of something, probably hope, in the man's eyes and L didn't know whether to laugh or pity the fool.
"Freedom would be nice."
Mario grit his teeth so hard L could almost hear them.
"That's not up for discussion."
"And neither is my identity." L asserted, eyeing the hero calmly.
It seemed like they were at an impasse.
"You're just going to go after the Dark Prognosticus again." The former hero snapped at him.
His heart skipped a beat at the mention of the book, the invisible thread connecting them giving a painful lurch towards the right, where the tome presumably was.
But L no longer wanted anything to do with it.
"I'm not him anymore either." He said, because he's not. He's not Luigi, and he's not Mr. L. He could be, but he won't.
He's just L.
"What?"
"I don't want it." L snapped at the hero. "I may look like Mr. L and Luigi but I am neither! Get it through your thick skull already!"
Silence ringed in his cell after the outburst, with the only sounds heard being L's ragged breathing.
Mario just stared at the chained man, his blue eyes judging every breath he took as if it was a personal offense to him.
As if L was using lungs that didn't belong to him.
Ha.
Shows what he knows. The caged man smirked under his mustache.
"You really are nothing like them…" Mario whispered suddenly, eyes widening as if in sudden realization.
"No." L agreed, nodding his head. "And I never want to be."
"It couldn't have been that bad." The hero's voice never grew above a strangled whisper. "Being my brother."
L barked out a laugh.
"Oh it was utter agony sometimes." He admitted, eyes gleaming an unhealthy silver. "The humiliation, the disgrace, the psychological pain…" L was almost purring while recounting the many feelings he felt coming from that one overused mask. "It was one of the reasons I kept putting it on."
"If you like it so much," Mario swallowed thickly. "Why don't you put it on? Just for a second?"
"Because, darling." L almost made his smile actually look sincere. "After so many years of wearing nothing but masks…"
"I want to know what it's like to just be me."
