deercountry | o5 . bone house mingle!

[ So. This might be a tricky operation.

The thing trying to occupy this body is vast and unknowable, which is a fun twist, because the thing which should be occupying the body— this second one being Kaworu— is also vast and unknowable, but in a more carefully-restrained way. It's like he's looking at the tip of an iceberg, a little bit comforting white snow above a lot bit horrible eldritch glacier; and then there's another, fully-fucked-up glacier trying to press it out of the way. The situation is more slippery than he'd like, and he doesn't know what might happen if he changes the water line.

He doesn't know what will look out of Kaworu's eyes if he loosens the leash.

But he is God, and he invented soul-pinning. Maybe he can't pry the Leviathan away, but he can at least fix Kaworu nearer the top; he can stabilize things, lessen the slippage. Maybe it won't hold forever, with the gravity of the Leviathan still exerting its pull. But it'd make for fewer hallway floods, probably. ]

Let's give this a try.

[ He reaches out, palm-up, in offer. Kaworu has struggled up to sitting, so Kaworu can make the choice to take his hand.

When he does, God will fix his soul in place and hold it there, in the grip of blazing power. If they're lucky, it should— in time— start to feel like solid ground. If they're lucky, the pain won't last. ]

[A shaking hand, clammy and cold, is placed into God's. And there's an explosion of pain. It's not physical, Kaworu is used to that sort of pain, but in the depths of his being. Like someone is touching and holding the sacred parts of him to keep his head above the water but it hurts. It painful to surface, to live, to be after so long of not doing so.

The boy makes a pained noise and ducks down, heaving up impossible amounts of sea water into the bin, hand clasping God's like a lifeline.

And then it's over, he sits there, gasping for breath but he can remember and feel that he is breathing. He looks up, a little wide-eyed, at the man who pulled him back from the depths.]

[ The piece of Kaworu that he wants, the piece that's boy and not monster, writhes and goes brittle— and then he steadies, settles, begins to even out. God holds his hand through it all.

The bin threatens to run over with seawater, which is a problem for the hardwood floors. They'll get to that later. The house has, evidently, seen worse.

When Kaworu looks up, with the dazed and rumpled look of someone realizing the scope of just how fucked they'd been, God quirks a tired little smile at him. ]

Feeling better?

[Kaworu opens his mouth to respond but there's a final gag of saltwater into the bin before he manages words. He feels terrible, quite frankly, like he's had the stomach flu even though he's never had it but somehow, even this terrible weakness and nausea is better than the alternative. At least he knows he's here, in this room, and in this body.

He shakily reaches up to wipe his mouth on his sleeve.]

How did I get here? Where is here? What happened?

[ God should, at some point, change out of his soaked shirt. (The smell of brine still makes his skin prickle every time he catches it; it's been so long.) For now he is resigned to the situation, and drops back into his chair. ]

You've been ill. This is my study, which is, I hope, a bit more comfortable than the hall.

How did I get here...? Where's Paul?

[Kaworu trembles a little, pulling knees to his chest as he looks around the room. His memories are fragmented, broken into pieces that he has to put back together. The battle on the beach feels far away. He remembers seeing Paul there, yelling out his name and then it's darkness and pressure. Even the last few days are extremely hazy.]

[ He splays his hands in the universal signal of easy, don't freak out. ]

Upstairs and asleep, I hope. He's been in a state, too. The both of you came through that fight a little worse for wear.

I brought you back here to heal.

[There's a flourish as Kaworu intends to stand, determined to find Paul, only to collapse back down onto the couch with trembling legs. He's much improved but still recovering, like the weakness at the end of a fever.

He shivers, oblivious to how meak he looks.]

Why? [Did you take us.] What happened?

[ He watches the stumble and fall, and tips his head in resignation. ]

Let's take it slow. There's nowhere you need to be but here. Like I said, Paul is asleep, and he could use the rest.

[ It sounds nice, anyway. ]

It's not a kidnapping. You and Paul needed somewhere safe to recover, and I had the space. Harrow and Gideon are here, too.

[He hiccups and wipes his mouth, eyes glancing up towards the stairs, longing to check on Paul and make sure he's okay. Make sure that he's not angry with him. But for once, Kaworu can't really blame him if he was.

A sigh and he curls up on himself, wrapping his arms around skinny knees.]

So. Did we win? Did Paul... die too?

[ The kid curls up, and he settles back in his chair in response. At least this might save them another embarrassing sprawl on the floor, for a bit. ]

Yes to both.

[ He says it low and gentle. ]

Paul went down a little after you, I figure. He got it right in the heart... but he didn't walk away. The beast fell not long after that.

But death is gentle, here. We just wake back up again... as though it were a dream.

[When he hears those words, he wonders if that's how it felt when Shinji crushed him effortlessly between the fingers of his Evangelion. The truth is, he doesn't remember any pain. Perhaps it was too quick or perhaps his mind spared him the memories.

But now there's an overwhelming weight that comes crashing down on him. It breaks his bones and smashes his flesh into bits. Was it his fault? Did he make that thing stronger? Make Paul weaker? He remembers calling the other boy's name in an unfinished apology.

Kaworu makes a low, pained noise and curls in on himself, pressing his knees to his chest and burying his face into the soft fabric of his pajama pants.]

[ The kid curls in on himself in a truly pathetic, miserable huddle. The silence hangs for a long and terrible moment. Then John rises, quietly, before him. He reaches out, and smooths a hand across the boy's shoulder.

There is no lurch or steadying pain, this time: it's just a touch. ]

Easy. The fight's done, and Paul is here alive. The recovery won't be instant... for him or for you. But I am impressed with the both of you.

[At first, he flinches at the touch. Not out of fear of pain but out of fear that it might be something unkind. When there's nothing, he lets himself lean into it a little even though he's certain he does not deserve the comfort he deeply craves.

He shakes his head against his knees.]

I did nothing to be impressed over. [All he did was let that creature in. All he did was distract people from what was important. All he did was get in the way. And then the last few days... he can remember very little but he does know it's true, Paul is here or has been here, at least.]

...Is Paul angry with me?

[ The flinch is absolutely tragic. But then this scrawny bird-boned child leans into his touch, and John thinks he might be doing this right. He's trying. ]

You stood up to something a thousand times your size. If that isn't bravery, I don't know what is.

[ He blows out a long breath, and, upon further consideration, drops to sit on the couch beside the boy. They make a funny picture, awkward but earnest, God sitting there not quite knowing how to comfort. ]

Paul's only angry at himself. Terrible choice of target, in my opinion. Personally, I'd be angry with the Leviathan. [ Or the gods. ]

It wasn't the size that was terrifying. It was what was inside its soul. How that thing was made. So much loneliness across all of time and space.

[He wishes the Old Man where here. He would have something to say about what it's like after a battle and how you're supposed to feel. But at least he has someone, now that he understands the pain of loneliness.

Kaworu slumps against the man a little.]

Paul did everything he could. He even tried to save me.

How it was made?

[ This he echoes in a murmur, but his hand on Kaworu's shoulder is still. So there is useful information here, buried among saltwater and fear. He had hoped but not quite expected as much.

To this last bit, he gives a comforting pat. ]

Don't I know it. He gave it his all. What matters is that he's back with us now... we haven't lost him, or you.

o5 . bone house mingle!

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