Quote of the Chapter:

"Passion and shame torment him and rage is mingled with his grief" - Virgil.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: (I want you to) Come Back

Exactly three days had passed since they'd last spoken. Meaningless, harsh and bitter were his final words to her, spoken from a voice that only aimed to protect her - protect her by hurting her - in a way that he knew would come with merciless consequences. Being cruel to her, using the razor sharp weapon of his tongue, was the only way Meliodas knew how to protect her. Everything else she just ignored; everything else she recovered from with simple scrapes and bruises.

Really, Meliodas should be happy that Elizabeth is gone. Finally, damn fucking finally, she would be able to move on, start anew, erase all traces of his lying, deceitful ass from her life. Without him Elizabeth could flourish in the way she had always been destined to, shake off the choking, suffocating stems of his bindweed from her own blossom. She could grow without him; he would forever stunt her growth.

Nevertheless, getting used to the isolation, the loneliness, was something Meliodas wished wasn't a side effect. Staring at his phone, hoping to hear the distant knock on the door, were things that he just wished he wouldn't do. They were hopeless actions. They lacked a true conclusion because she was never coming back.

What happened two days ago was the last straw. Just like the forgiveness pancakes that ended up buried in the bin, their friendship was done and dusted, buried under the plethora of problems between them.

Now Meliodas wasted his days away in darkness, shuffling about the empty-feeling apartment as he survived off Pot Noodles and instant ramen. If he felt fancy then he'd pop to the Sainsbury's downstairs, buy a microwaveable burger and call it a day. If he felt extra generous he'd eat nothing at all, dumping all culinary efforts on maintaining the dog - the only thing she'd left behind.

Ironic it was that it was still here, a scrappy little thing that hated the outside as much as he did. Occasionally they'd pop outside for a quick walk, mandatory bathroom sessions and such, but other than that they coexisted within the apartment, moping around together. Like Meliodas, the pup (still not named) most likely missed his parents and littermates. Together they were two kindred, lonely souls.

Maybe that was why Meliodas was surprised to see his brother's name pop up on his phone, matched with a picture of a stormy Zeldris, dark brows bent and middle finger raised. In all his self-absorbed misery, the self-loathing seeping from his brain, he had forgotten about the one person who would always check up on him.

Answering the call, Meliodas mustered his best 'I'm-doing-fine' face, "Hey Zel- "

"When were you going to tell me that you were coming up here?" Zeldris immediately bombarded him with the question, matching the agitated glare of his contact photo. Taking up the entire screen was his annoyed stare, bright green eyes pinched with frustration as he glared at his brother, mouth set into a terrible frown. From the look alone Meliodas knew that he was in trouble. Big trouble.

"What?" The blonde blinked, entirely confused by his brother's statement. Frowning himself, Meliodas shook his head. "I'm not in Edinburgh."

"So why did Gelda tell me that Elizabeth's dropping by for dinner?" Zeldris quizzed, huffing as he cocked an accusatory brow.

"I don't know. A work thing?" Meliodas shrugged, confused as ever. So that's where she was. Edinburgh. Meliodas knew that she wanted nothing to do with him, wanted to run away as far as she could from him, but he didn't think she'd run that far. Approximately six hundred kilometers away. Did he really hurt her that badly? "I haven't spoken to her."

"Yeah right," Zeldris scoffed, rolling his jade eyes. He'd set down the phone now, stomping toward the hissing pan spitting away on the stove. "You two are always in the loop."

"Not this time," Meliodas responded, quick and yet just as melancholic. Yeah, now they knew barely anything about each other. For all he knew she could be living an entirely different life, could be preparing to leave the country, and he wouldn't have the slightest clue.

Overall, Meliodas wouldn't even blame Elizabeth if that was the truth. What he did, what he'd done, to her was worthy of being shunned for life. Essentially, he had conned her, lied to her in a way that had wasted countless years of her life, endless seconds of her time, simply because he was too much of a coward to quickly rip off the band aid before the wound beneath it became infected.

He'd ruined her life. Meliodas had ruined Elizabeth's life. And nothing could ever repair that. No amount of begging, no amount of pleading, no amount of worthless ass-kissing was going to make it up this time.

But what he would give to repent that one sin.

"Something happened," Zeldris stated, setting down his wooden spoon. It came back with red smeared onto it - no doubt the chopped tomatoes he had added to the frying pan. "Tell me."

"How nice of you to ask dear brother," Meliodas sighed, rolling his eyes. Audacious as ever, a cheeky grin settled onto his face. "No 'are you ok' or 'should I come down to check up on you'?"

"Cut the bullshit Meliodas," Zeldris spat, turning down the blue gas flame and stomping back up to his phone. Stormy again, his brows bent with agitation - much like a father scolding a child - as he looked at his older brother. "I know that you're responsible for this."

Silence for a beat, "Well, you aren't wrong."

"I know I'm not."

Only the low hiss of the gas flame filled the void, soft churning of bubbling chopped tomatoes and whatever other ingredients Zeldris chucked into the pan simmering away. Meliodas couldn't help but see the irony of its presence: a bubbling pot filled with ingredients gaining more and more heat as the seconds ticked on by, churning away, boiling away, until it would either fizzle out or burn.

Was it simply irony that the pan was there or was it a sign? Sign or not, Meliodas couldn't help but feel aware of its presence; something about it irked him.

"What did you lie to her about this time?" Zeldris broke the silence, sighing and he shook his head.

"Lie? Me?" Meliodas echoed, placing a hand of mock hurt over his chest. Blinking innocently, he added, "When have I ever lied?"

"I said cut the horse shit," Zeldris reinforced, his voice a sharp snap. Taking in a deep breath, he frowned a little more, green eyes filled with warning. "I'm being serious. What did you lie about?"

Meliodas swallowed, "What do you think I lied about?"

"Right now a ton of things," Zeldris shot back firmly, showing just how deeply his distrust ran. Again, something Meliodas couldn't blame anyone for. Like Melascula had said, he was a shitty truth teller. Telling the truth was something he was never good at, something he always avoided. "And judging from what Gelda told me, she's pretty pissed at you."

"Oh you're lucky Zel talked me down from coming to London to kick some sense into that stupid head of yours!" Gelda harrumphed from the background, snatching the phone from her bemused husband. Fury was evident on her regal features, the curve of her pale neck filled with red as her crimson eyes narrowed into a pointed scowl. "What did you do? Poor Elizabeth looked as if she hadn't slept a wink for days. I was going to book a train ticket and everything!"

"And I told you why that was a stupid idea," Zeldris chimed in, popping into a small corner of the screen. Concern was his dominant expression, his lips pursed as he continued. "You're hormonal and you're not- "

One sharp look was all it took for Zeldris to shut up. Infatuated with his wife, Zeldris always had been an easy one to bend to her whims. Even back when they were in school, sharing notes from History class over lunch, she had that sway over him. That was why Zeldris had been so quick to admit that he'd go to hell and high water for this woman; that was why it was so easy for him to admit that he loved her.

Wild, the complete opposite of his somewhat docile brother, Meliodas struggled to admit such a thing. Even when she was right in his face, convincing him to enjoy activities he had vehemently sworn against, he'd never dared to admit it. Only under intense pressure, the probing and pushing of Ban and others, did he waver in his resolve.

Even then it was never a full admission.

"You are perfectly sane," Zeldris responded quickly, a strained smile on his face as his wife nodded approvingly. As soon as she turned her back, he shook his head, lowering his voice to a low hiss as he rolled his eyes. "No she's damn not. God if someone told me pregnant women got as mad as they do I would've thought twice about my pullout game."

"So I'm an uncle now?" Meliodas blinked, letting the unexpected news settle in. Leave it to Zeldris to announce a pregnancy in the most nonchalant and snarky way.

"Surprise!" Zeldris rolled his eyes once more, his voice a neutral deadpan. Again he flashed a snarky smile, dry with sarcasm as he shook both his hands in the air in mock excitement. "You're an uncle!"

"We were waiting to tell you at Christmas!" Gelda sighed, shaking her head as she came into view once more. In that moment Meliodas noticed the flowy dress she had on, loose and brightly coloured and covered at the midriff with a pale hand, rubbing at the swollen stomach beneath it. "With Elizabeth, of course. She's gonna be thrilled when she learns that she's gonna be an auntie."

"Yeah, she loves kids," Meliodas rushed out, shoving down the pang that seized his heart at the thought of it all. She loved kids. A lot. But that wasn't his concern right now. Not when she hated his guts - wanted to disembowel him and string said guts across the wall. "But good luck getting us together in one place now."

"I have my ways," Gelda grinned, tapping her nose as she winked.

"Gelda, hun, why don't you check on Elizabeth?" Zeldris asked, turning to his joyful partner. His hand squeezed hers, their wedding rings catching the yellow light of their kitchen ceiling. "She might get you some insider tips from Arthur."

"Oh yes, I love me some royal gossip!" Gelda hummed, nodding with content as she placed a quick peck on her husband's cheek. Waving eagerly, she then turned to the camera. "Stay safe Mel and don't be a dumbass."

"I won't," Meliodas promised, a somewhat humorous grin spreading on his face. Again, highly ironic. There was no way that his chaos-attracted self could stay away from trouble for more than a day or two.

"You know, I'm still waiting," Zeldris dove straight back into interrogation mode, scrutiny clear in his gaze as his fingers tapped against the smooth surface of his kitchen counter. "You still owe me an explanation," A warning glower. A shiver tracking his spine, Meliodas definitely felt sorry for his brother's kid. "Before I find my way down to London to kick your pathetic ass."

Undoubtedly, Zeldris coming down to London was definitely the worst case scenario. Knowing his pessimistic, grumpy, asshole of a brother, Meliodas knew that for that entire five and a half hour journey (four and a half on the train, one hour to the apartment) Zeldris would stew away in his agitation and annoyance. Then, when at the front door, he would greet his older brother with a customary thump on the head, before promptly dragging himself inside to begin the lecture.

No doubt the entire ordeal would last a week. In that week Zeldris would get Meliodas out the house, force him to quit his whining and prompt him to cook actual food to nourish his body. All contact with the old man would be lost; shifts at the Boar Hat would be monitored, Zeldris perched on his usual bar stool, keeping an eye out for any shady acts; there'd be a damn curfew.

Whenever Zeldris came to London, Meliodas knew it was back to being treated like a child, a rebellious teen who lacked the structure he needed in his life. Overall, it was extremely overbearing; he was the eldest of the pair. By NINE damn months.

But Zeldris always had to play the mother hen. Part of Meliodas attributes it to guilt.

Sighing, the blonde rolled his eyes, "I didn't tell her about dad, alright?" He admitted - the first time he had called his father 'dad' in a long, long time. Why did he choose that form of address? Dad? It wasn't like he valued the ageing codger's opinion - far from it. "I lied about leaving that all behind."

Movement ceased to flicker on the phone screen. Brow scrunched with confusion, mouth pressed into a puzzled grimace, Zeldris' unblinking eyes bore into Meliodas' soul for an uncomfortable amount of time. Too much time. Was the damned wifi acting up again?

Frowning, Meliodas tapped the screen, "Zeldris?"

"You dumb fuck!" Zeldris barked out, his face thunderous as his dark brows bent into a firm glower. Even through the phone Meliodas could feel the powerful frustration, the overwhelming disappointment, pouring from his younger brother. "Do you know just how... Ugh I don't even care that much about you but for her - maybe I should book those damn train tickets..."

"Very funny," Meliodas rolled his eyes as his brother paced, genuinely seeming to consider it all. Bubbling away on the stove, the frying pan began to whistle, hot steam jetting from the glass lid. Had it always been on there?

"You think it's a joke but I'm being serious, Meliodas," Zeldris responded, halting in his steps and then turning on his brother. Permanent frown lines were carved into his face, pressed into his forehead and pulling at his cheeks. "How could you do that?"

"I'm in too deep," Was his simple answer. As simple as it could be.

"Lies," Zeldris hissed, vehement as he shook his head. "You're never in too deep."

"Well I am," Meliodas shrugged simply, his own frustration building at his sibling's obtuse opinion. Bleeding out, seeping out, his ire was obvious as he frowned, his own eyes simmering with scrutiny. "Much deeper than you ever were. Thanks to you, everything rests on my shoulders now."

Instant regret. Purging, stabbing, pulling regret that tugged at his gut and squeezed at his lungs. Stupid, stupid words...

"I didn't mean that," Meliodas sighed, voice quiet as he ran a hand through his wild hair. Tugging at the ends, he berated himself, his own uncontrollable outburst, as he frowned. Never could he stop using his words as sharp, precise throwing knives. Never could he just... hold a healthy conversation. "I really didn't mean it, Zel."

"Sort your shit out," Zeldris grumbled out, his voice matching the grimace on his face. Masking the hurt, covering the injury, he remained impassive. "That's all I'm saying."

"Yeah, I know," Meliodas responded, still just as quiet, still not feeling a hundred percent. Busying himself, he attempted to distract his mind as he toyed with his hands, fingers looping over one another. It did little to stop the question verging on his tongue, filling his void expression with hope as he dared to ask, "Do you know... how she's doing?"

Hesitation marked his brother's face. "Fine apparently," Zeldris eventually shrugged, still neutral in his expression and tone. Releasing a sigh, he scratched at his hairline. "A bit rough round the edges but she seems to be having a great time with Arthur. You know, that friend of hers?"

"Yep," The sting couldn't be hidden. The harsh sting that came with knowing, knowing for sure, that she was moving on without him. But honestly it was for the best; it was in her best interests. "Good for her."

"You don't mean it," Zeldris stated simply.

"Yes I do," Meliodas refuted.

"Grow up and grow some balls," Zeldris reiterated, rolling his eyes as he frowned at his older brother. Always the one who needed the most help, acting as if he could tough it out on his own: Meliodas should've known that Zeldris can read him like a book. "Admit that you love her."

Face pressed into his pillows, ghosting the scent of her, Meliodas grumbled out, "Fine, I love her."

"Huh?" Zeldris echoed, raising a brow as he cupped a hand to his ear. Twitching the corner of his amused lip, a grin threatened to spread on his impassive face.

Of course he wasn't going to make it easy. Zeldris never made anything easy. Even back when they were kids, snot-nosed and covered with sticky remnants of sugar and juice, Zeldris always had to be the one to whine about how he never liked the sticky sensation leftover from his favourite snacks. Every time Meliodas would just tug him toward the sink, shaking his head as he turned on the tap and handed his brother the soap. Always so dramatic for no good reason...

But, then again, wasn't he?

"I love her," Meliodas admitted, his face unbearably warm for once. Last time it had been this hot, he'd been caught hiding in Elizabeth's room, buried under her childhood collection of stuffed animals. Her mother had not been happy with his presence. "A lot."

Tiny, a grin settled on his brother's face, "Now all you need to do is tell her that."

"Through text?"

"To her face, asswipe," Zeldris snapped, shaking his head. He looked as if he wanted to strangle Meliodas through the phone screen. "I want my kid to have a normal aunt and uncle. Not you two dysfunctional idiots."

"Love you too Zel," Meliodas teased, his grin growing at his brother's masked concern. "I'm glad you care."

"Pfft, I don't," Zeldris rolled his eyes, a pout puffing out his face. "But you deserve to be happy. You did that for me and it's only fair that I do that for you."