Oh? I lived to post another chapter? YAY!

So, I've seen a distinct lack of Rasent/Skavel (Skulduggery/Ravel, thanks to LionsandTrolls for the names), and I intend to change that! In fact, I will make everyone else love this ship! (well, you don't have to, but it'd be nice to know I'm not alone)

I've made more references to Bambi. Screw you, I write what I want!

Chapter 12 – Twitterpated

Skulduggery woke up with a bothersome headache and an uncomfortable churning in his stomach. The room was dark, signifying that it was clearly still late into the night or at least very early morning. Something warm was pressed against his chest, and when he looked down-.

Fuck.

Erskine was huddled up against his chest, fast asleep as if it were the most normal thing in the world, and Vile was chirring happily, as if this was something he wanted.

'Stop that,' Skulduggery snapped. 'This is not something you should be enjoying.'

'You like it, though,' Vile countered. 'And you and I are one and the same, so there's no excuse other than that we enjoy his company.'

Vile got a boot up the backside for that, and was promptly ignored whilst Skulduggery tried to figure out the best way to ease Erskine out of his arms. Clearly, he'd had a lot to drink; he'd never let anyone get this close to him under normal circumstances. Just what had happened for him to allow this? He remembered Erskine leading him upstairs, and something to do with his hat, before Vile had suggested something to him, but he couldn't remember what it was exactly.

'What did you do?' Skulduggery demanded.

'How am I supposed to know? I got drunk with you!'

A knot of anxiety formed in Skulduggery's insides, and he unconsciously tightened his embrace around Erskine. If he'd hurt his friend…

His movement stirred Erskine, and the other mage groaned softly as he blinked awake. Dreary gold eyes looked up at him, and Skulduggery was immediately cursing himself.

"Hmm," Erskine mumbled weakly. "Skulduggery, what..?"

"Go back to sleep, Erskine," Skulduggery hushed.

Grimacing, Erskine whined in discomfort and buried his face in Skulduggery's chest. "I can't," he complained. "I'm hungover."

"How much did you drink?"

"Three bottles. I didn't get that drunk, though. A bottle and a half, and you were staggering around like a horse on drugs."

The smile in his voice was obvious, and Skulduggery was tempted to bat him over the head.

"I… I didn't do anything stupid, right?"

Erskine fell silent, and the knot tightened its hold on Skulduggery's guts.

"Erskine?"

Erskine took a deep breath, as if he was readying himself for something.

"If I hurt you, then-."

"You kissed me," Erskine said quickly. "And I liked it."

Skulduggery was frozen in place, but his heart was thundering at the speed of a racehorse at full gallop. Hot blood rushed to his face, turning his gaunt cheeks cherry red, and there was a gymnast performing flips in his already roiling stomach. Vile was over the fucking moon with this news, whooping gleefully as if he'd won the lottery, and had plans to buy a fancy slaughterhouse in which he could kill whomever he pleased.

"I, um, wha? I…" he blundered, completely tripping over his words as his tongue tied itself in knots, and his lips stopped working properly. "Huh?"

Erskine seemed to shrink pitifully in Skulduggery's arms, like a dog that was anticipating punishment. Nervously, he looked up at Skulduggery, only succeeding in making him blush even more and Vile giggle like a madman on a high.

"I… I didn't… force myself on you, did I?" Skulduggery asked worriedly. He still had his arms around Erskine, but right now, he didn't care.

"I… n-no. You… said some stuff about finding someone you wanted to, well… spend the rest of your life with, and then you kissed me."

Slowly, Skulduggery nodded as the image of a blushing Erskine wearing his hat at a skewed angle appeared in his head. Strangely enough, he found it quite adorable.

"I… yes, I remember now. You were wearing my hat. Then… then we kissed again."

Erskine nodded in confirmation as a blush formed itself on his face. He opened his mouth to say something else, but a headache suddenly washed over him, and the discomfort of his hangover fully set in. Groaning, he pushed Skulduggery away and sat up. His stomach ached painfully, and he didn't enjoy it.

"What's wrong?" Skulduggery asked, sitting up as well. In the back of his mind, Vile was whining in irritated confusion.

"Hangover," Erskine grumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Urgh, I need a drink."

Skulduggery nodded. His headache was bothering him, too. "Let's get to the kitchen," he suggested. "Get something to drink and maybe a snack."

"Okay."

Skulduggery gently guided a dizzy Erskine down to the kitchen. There, Skulduggery poured glasses of water for the both of them, and eagerly drank his own, clearing up his headache and easing the cramps in his stomach.

Erskine just stared into his glass, his expression blank and unchanging.

"Is everything okay, Erskine?" Skulduggery ventured, sitting at the table next to him. He observed the hopeless resignation he saw in Erskine's golden eyes. That look had been there when he'd fled to Dublin over the Wall in Mevolent's dimension, and times long before his sudden betrayal when Skulduggery caught him staring vacantly into nothingness. At first, he'd passed it off as nothing, but now he realised that it was something else.

At first, silence was his only answer, until Erskine just sighed weakly and shook his head. "I shouldn't have enjoyed it as much as I did," he stated blatantly. "I don't deserve that sort of bliss."

"What makes you say that?" Skulduggery asked quietly.

Erskine gritted his teeth in an attempt to hold back the bitter anger that was welling up inside him. "What do you think?"

"I think you're beating yourself up over nothing."

"How can it be nothing?!" Erskine demanded; eyes snapping to meet Skulduggery's. The blazing anger and self-loathing in them was unfathomable. "Everything I've done is proof that I don't deserve anything other than hatred, pain and… and abuse! I turned my back on you, I turned my back on everyone! For years, I cheated, lied and took advantage over everyone I came across. Without even the slightest hesitation, I turned around and stabbed Ghastly in the back. When people needed me most; when I had the chance to make up for just a portion of what I did; I turned and ran because I was too selfish to think about anyone's safety other than my own. I'm a coward, a traitor and a maniac, and Darquesse had the right idea when she put me through that ungodly agony!"

By this point, Erskine was on his feet and enraged tears were streaming down his face. Skulduggery looked up at him sympathetically. His friend was hurt, and it was hurting him, too. It had always hurt.

"You don't mean that," he said quietly. "Erskine, you've paid the price for what you did more than once."

"Prove it! For God's sake, what the hell does everyone else see that I don't?!"

Standing up, Skulduggery firmly took hold of Erskine's arm and pulled the sleeve back, revealing the horrifying pattern of scars that marred the skin. Most of them were clearly the result of knife wounds, and someone had had the audacity to carve words such as 'bitch' and 'slut' into his flesh like a cattle brand.

"This is what I see, Erskine," Skulduggery said. "A victim. These people hurt you, and while you may have deserved it at first, they took it too far when they took advantage of you over and over again. Clarity did the one thing me and the others were too stubborn to do ourselves; they forgave you for your wrongs because when they looked past what you did, they saw a friend worth saving. In all honesty, I'm the one in the wrong, because I should've been a better friend."

Erskine was silent throughout Skulduggery's monologue, only staring at him in hopeless bewilderment as he tried to run his mind around what was being said. Skulduggery really thought he'd been put through enough? He'd actually forgiven him? Numb shock filled his chest as he was pulled into a hug.

"I've only seen the best of you since you arrived here with Clarity," Skulduggery continued, rubbing Erskine's back soothingly. "You've looked after Wolf as if he were your own, and not once have you turned your back on anyone. Look at yourself; you are clearly more than sorry for what you did, so stop thinking otherwise."

Both men locked eyes, and Skulduggery could see the internal war in Erskine's eyes as he struggled with Skulduggery's reason and the lies that his torturers had drummed into his mind.

"I… you really think..?" he stuttered, tears stinging his eyes again.

"I'm certain. And if you want any more convincing, then I guess I won't mind kissing you again."

That managed to bring a blush onto Erskine's face, along with an overly shocked expression. "I-I, um…" he stuttered, pulling away. To his surprise, Skulduggery was blushing, too.

"I suppose I always have liked you… sort of… I just… never realised how much," he admitted. "If you don't mind, then… maybe we could, um… y'know."

He was mumbling now, and his face looked like Valkyrie had gone overboard with red face paint on him. All Erskine could think was 'Damn, I forgot how cute he looks when his face does that. Wait, what? Gaagh! Stop it, brain!'

Chuckling, Erskine picked up his glass and took a long sip from it.

"Erskine, that's my drink," Skulduggery put out helpfully.

Erskine promptly gasped with a mouth full of water and choked on said water. Skulduggery simply laughed at his friend's (or whatever they were now) mistake. He may have been starting up a relationship, but that didn't stop him from being, well… him. When Erskine recovered his composure, he received a kiss for his troubles. It was short; only lasting a second; but sweet and managed to make both their lips tingle. Vile was letting Skulduggery know that he was certainly enjoying it. And thus, a boot to the head was bequeathed.

"Feeling better?" Skulduggery asked softly when he pulled away. Erskine's cheeks were still damp, so he carefully wiped away the moisture with his thumb.

"Much," Erskine nodded, a smile gracing his features. Skulduggery concluded that he looked much more alive when he smiled these days, and made a mental note to encourage it.

"I've just realised something."

"What?"

Smiling, Skulduggery leaned in and whispered into Erskine's ear softly. "I think I'm twitterpated."

Did Skulduggery's argument against Erskine's rant seem justified? I hope it did, otherwise my morals are messed up.

Fun fact: Erskine is suffering from something akin to Stockholme's Syndrome, which explains the major self loathing.

Now review and make me feel good about myself!