Epilogue
Diego clawed desperately at the fabric around his neck, gargling and choking as the cloth squeezed his windpipe. His bare heels banged against the cold metal frame of the bed as he struggled. Where the hell was the knot?! His fingernails were too short and the noose was too tight. His lungs burned as he gasped in vain for oxygen. He was dying and couldn't stop it. Oh, God, he couldn't stop it. Black dots swarmed his vision.
He felt the flutter of angel's wings.
There was a tearing sound above him, and suddenly he was falling, landing hard on his ass on the concrete floor. Diego wrestled the remains of his pants from around his neck and rolled onto his knees, coughing for air.
At last his vision cleared, and his breathing returned to normal. Diego looked up and saw Blackquill half-sitting up in bed. The younger man was gazing at him with an amused grin on his face. Diego got to his feet, steadying himself on the bunks. Blackquill's pet hawk was perched on the bedframe, its talons curled in the other half of Diego's pants.
"Armando-dono." Blackquill's grin broadened, and he nodded at Diego's crotch. "Bored of life, or just bored?"
Diego smirked back, cupping his semi-erection. "Maybe give a man a little privacy next time, Highlander."
"Hmph." Blackquill slid out of bed and swung himself into the top bunk. Diego gazed at him, tilting his head to the side slightly. Blackquill looked away, scratching his pet lovingly on the head.
"I'd rather not be woken up by your depraved shenanigans again tonight," he explained.
Diego's smirk faded, the image of Blackquill bleeding out in the showers surfacing in his mind. He approached the bed and rested a hand on the top bunk.
"You shouldn't care about me, Highlander," he murmured seriously. Blackquill glanced at him briefly, still caressing his bird. "It'll get you killed."
"Hmph." Blackquill shot him a crooked smile. "Let me worry about that, Armando-dono."
Diego turned away, shaking his head, and rolled into the bottom bunk. The mattress and blankets were still warm from Blackquill's body heat. He tucked one arm under the pillow and gazed at the underside of the bottom bunk, trying to make sense of the night's events.
Had he really been visited by the ghost of Gregory Edgeworth, seeking absolution for not telling the truth about his murder? Or was it was all just a dying hallucination – his brain's last ditch attempt to save him from himself?
Maybe it didn't matter.
He'd agreed to keep Blackquill alive, and a man never went back on his word. That was one of his rules.
Diego took off his visor and closed his eyes.
Wait for me just a little longer, kitten. I've got one more cup to drink before I can come home.
Somewhere in the distance, he heard a bell ring.