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Vicious drinks.
The alcohol burns away the chill of the night air, dulls the sensation of the hard rock he's sitting on. It's quiet, up here on the rough, stone battlements. It gives him a vantage point of the town they've stopped at to rest- imposing enough on the ground, but up here, it's a stone ring that's falling to pieces. The rocks are poorly-maintained, the walls crumbling every few meters or so, typical of a once-rich settlement now fallen into disrepair. Few people would climb the walls, or even trust them to protect their homes. Fewer still would think to find him here.
He doesn't know how long he's been up here. The buzz of alcohol melds the passage of time in a haze. The only indications that the world hasn't frozen around him is the gently moving moon, the dimly-lit clouds, drifting up above. The stars twinkle down on him, the only thing more constant in his life than the flames he wields.
Dark flames that consume, that desire, that burn as they reach up to the sky.
Vicious drinks deep. He tries to imagine he can't smell the mana that still lingers on his jacket, can't taste the smoke beneath the alcohol on his tongue.
It's been weeks, he tells himself. Weeks since they escaped Kasque, weeks since things have returned to what passed as normal.
Weeks since his throat started catching when he looked at his companions, when his laughter has become more forced than genuine. When he's woken up in the middle of the night, gasping for breath, and he's had to sneak out of the inns they've been staying at to find somewhere quiet, somewhere alone. So he can convince himself the mana is properly sealed away, that his hands aren't on fire and he can't feel scales piercing through his skin.
Weeks since he revealed to his companions what he truly was.
They've started looking at him in a way that makes his skin crawl, their voices are hushed and gentle. They skitter around him, and even during battle he can feel their gazes on him, watching- waiting, as if expecting him to snap. Looking at him, and seeing the Great Transgressor for all his truth.
Ivis talked about getting his power under control, about how foolish he was to unleash it, but truly, isn't that power all he actually has, all he actually is?
And he can remember how easy it would have been to snap their necks, how he could feel the desire to hurt them burning in his chest, roiling like the flames on his tongue-
Vicious shudders, closes his eyes. Even through the alcohol, the memory burns sharp and bright in his mind's eye. Something twists in his gut, and all at once, the bile rises in his throat. He presses a hand against the rough, stone wall, grips tight to keep his mind from reeling. He's glad he didn't eat much during dinner, swallows and fights the urge to heave.
And when he opens his eyes, he reminds himself he's alone.
He's been alone for far longer than he remembers.
The night is calm in its isolation. It's an old friend, sheltering him from the world. Reminding him that no matter what, this is what Vicious is, what Vicious wants. That the reason why his chest aches is because of the wounds Kasque left on him. That the warmth of camaraderie, of friends, isn't something that the Great Transgressor desires.
And Vicious drinks. Drinks, until he sinks into the familiar, hazy fog. Sighs, as he relaxes against the rough stone. Shudders, as he lets the seconds and minutes slip by, as he forgets-
"So this is where you ran off to."
Vicious stiffens. And all at once, reality pulls into sharp focus.
Standing on the ground next to the broken walls, the familiar form of Aegis looks up at him. His arms are crossed over his jacket, his back stiff as usual. The faint moonlight illuminates the frown on his face, his amber eyes bright and sharp even now.
Aegis isn't usually happy, but there's something accusatory in his tone, something that rankles at Vicious's throat and tightens his grip on the bottle.
But it doesn't take much effort to pull a smirk, to glance over at the ex-knight as if nothing's wrong.
"Thought you were asleep," he says lightly.
"I thought the same of you." Aegis shoots back. "Imagine my surprise when I heard you wake up and decide to go for a late night walk."
Vicious snorts. "Didn't know ya cared."
Aegis purses his lips. Something flickers in his eyes- irritation? Good. Vicious is almost relieved it's Aegis here tonight- Kanata would be insistent, Yuna wouldn't stop weaseling, and Misella would probably burn him without even so much as an excuse. But Aegis is easy to handle- push him enough, and he'd leave Vicious alone.
And then, quietly, hesitantly, whispered into the night:
"Are you well?"
Vicious's grip on the bottle tightens. The memories are there, hiding beneath his eyelids. How easily he bat Aegis's spear aside, how he could see amber eyes behold him with horror-
"Fine. Just needed a drink."
He tips the bottle. The liquid sloshes through his mouth, but now it feels tasteless, useless, unable to draw him away into the haze he desires-
"You don't sound fine."
A note of uncertainty. Aegis is stubborn, but he's never this persistent. His voice is never this soft, not when it comes to Vicious, and it stirs something uncomfortable beneath his breast bone, something that's both hopeful and recoiling all at once.
So Vicious falls back on what he knows, shoots Aegis a glare and retorts, "And you'd know, yeah?"
Aegis flinches.
And he can see the flames pressing in on the ex-knight, the pain on his face as he cradles a wounded arm. Blood drips from his claws, Aegis's blood, drawn from protecting the rest of their companions-
Vicious snarls, turns away. Presses his forehead against his knees, breathes in and out, calming his breath. He doesn't know how long he sits there, but surely Aegis must be gone by now. Long gone, because he can still smell the mana, still feel its power and desire coursing through his veins and-
No. He's fine. They're fine. And out here, out in the moonlight, Vicious is alone again, alone where it's safe-
"Vicious."
No. No, damn the fool.
"Why are ya still here?" He snaps at last, turning- and then Aegis is right up by his side. Somehow he's climbed the wall, and is kneeling next to him. The moonlight sharpens the concern on his features and brightens his amber eyes, and he has one hand outstretched towards him- towards the Great Transgressor- as if reaching out to comfort.
He freezes at the sound of Vicious's voice.
Vicious wants to pull away, wants to vault over the walls and run out into the night. Wants to get away from the dark flames that still claw their way into him, the nightmares that he has to tell himself aren't real. Wants to just pretend this is all nothing, to pretend that he's fine, that everything's fine-
Then, far more tenderly than Vicious could have ever imagined, Aegis's gloved hand ghosts along his cheek.
Vicious's breath catches. His resolution falters. And damn it all, he hadn't realized how cold he'd been until Aegis's hand pressed against his skin.
"Vicious, what is this?" the ex-knight asks. "This isn't like you."
Vicious chuckles weakly. Defeated, he squeezes his eyes shut, dips his head into Aegis's touch. "Didn't ya get the memo? This is me."
He doesn't know how Aegis will deal with that admission. Pursed lips, maybe a sharp dismissal. Maybe, maybe, he'd finally leave and Vicious can finally get some semblance of himself back together before the morning rises.
"You haven't been sleeping well." It's a hesitant observation, but Aegis's voice resounds in his ears, close and gentle and tender. Far more than Vicious deserves.
He lifts his head, lets out a soft huff. "Alcohol helps."
There's Aegis's frown again. "Not enough," the ex-knight states. "You've been sluggish in the mornings. Falling behind in battle. Your shots-"
"Did I hit ya? I always warned ya, get in my way-"
"You've been hesitating." Aegis lifts his chin defiantly. It does nothing to hide the concern in his eyes.
And Vicious laughs. It's a laugh that sounds raw and broken even in his ears, made out of the glass shards of himself falling apart.
"Vicious-"
"So what, yer worried I'm dragging you down?" Vicious smirks ruefully. "That the Great Transgressor isn't living up to all ya thought he'd be? That I'd get ya killed, one way or another?"
"No, that's not it at all."
Aegis's hold is warm. Steady. His eyes blaze in the moonlight, his voice so soft that it hurts.
And although he knows that it's a futile question, that he's the Great Transgressor and that there's no way that Aegis of all people really cares, Vicious sighs and leans in, holds Aegis's gaze when he asks,
"What are ya doing here, Aegis?"
Aegis's frown deepens, but he doesn't pull away.
"Honestly," he admits softly, "I don't know myself."
Vicious stares at him. Of all things he expected, that certainly wasn't it. Aegis stares back. A faint flush colors his cheeks, and finally, he mumbles, "I just... after everything- I thought someone should talk to you."
"And that someone was you?"
Aegis flushes. "It was a whim, okay? You're already making me regret this, urgh." He purses his lips. "But I'm not leaving. Not until I know you'll be okay."
And Vicious wants to say something, something to prove that he's fine, that Aegis is worrying his pretty little head over nothing. But the sheer earnestness in Aegis's voice, the way he doesn't falter even though he's this close to Vicious-
Vicious doesn't want him to go away.
He lets go of the bottle, curls a hand against Aegis's own. Even clothed, his hand feels softer than the rough stones, warmer than the cold night. Aegis's eyes widen at the contact, and he takes a deep breath in. But he doesn't move away.
"You're not-" Aegis falters, before continuing, "I don't know what the Great Transgressor really is, but... I've seen you laugh. I've seen you smile. I've seen you hurt, and dying, and- I see you now."
Vicious swallows. "What do ya see?"
"The same man that gave me the strength to fight. The man that has my back, no matter how many times he swears he'll shoot me dead one of these days. You."
Aegis is nothing but sincere. He holds Vicious's gaze, amber eyes boring into his soul. It used to be something Vicious thought he could tease the ex-knight about, use against him. But now, turning that full sincerity on him, it's almost enough to loosen the tightness in Vicious's throat, ease the weight lingering in his chest.
Still, he's Vicious. Still the Great Transgressor. "Yer blind," he bites out bitterly, "Thought ya knew better than this, Aegis. It's foolish to trust me."
But Aegis doesn't waver. He shrugs.
"Maybe it is. Maybe I am. But we're all fools anyway, aren't we? Fighting against a god?"
And it's almost too much. Too much, and why can't Aegis see- "I almost killed you. How can you- how can anyone-"
"I almost killed you once, too."
He says it so matter-of-factly, so simply, as if they were trading bottles at a bar. Aegis arches an eyebrow, testing him.
And Vicious snorts. "Don't flatter yerself."
"I should say the same to you." Aegis sniffs. "Kill me? You landed a lucky hit. Misella patched that up in no more than a second."
"How can ya-" be so blasé? Be so okay with him, after everything that happened? But Vicious can't even force the words out, the admission that he actually cares. Can't even bear the rejection, even now.
Aegis purses his lips. Finally, he sits back, pulls his hand away to brush the bangs out of Vicious's eyes.
"Kanata's worried," he says at last. "Enough to ask me advice on what to say to you. Yuna's been nattering at me to talk to you for weeks. Misella- well, she won't admit it, but she's been keeping an eye on you ever since you've developed the tendency to let yourself get killed by a goddess."
"I don't let myself get killed-"
"Could've fooled everyone." Aegis frowns. "We were worried about you, Vicious. Foolish as it may be."
Vicious sighs. Sags against the rock, studies the constellations up above. The night's cold touch has replaced Aegis's warm hand, and it'd be so easy to just ignore everything Aegis is saying right now, to remember everything that he's used to and is.
Then, Aegis says quietly, "You're not going to kill us, Vicious."
And it's his voice, soft and gentle, that soothes the tension in Vicious's skin. Pushes aside the memories of dark fire and death, the flames that wrap around his throat. It's his eyes that shine with such sincerity that just this once- Vicious wants to believe that this isn't all futile, that there's something more to life than this aimless wandering, this lonely existence.
"Okay?" Aegis asks tentatively, holding his hand out to him.
It's a request, not a command. And Vicious would have laughed that this is Aegis trying his best to comfort him, to support him. But it's because it's Aegis that Vicious knows he believes every word.
"Yeah."
He grips Aegis's hand tight. Lets the ex-knight pull him back up to his feet.
"So no more sneaking out at night and getting drunk on top of high places?"
Vicious groans. "Do ya ever stop nagging?"
Aegis smiles. "Would you want me to?"
No. Never. But that admission feels too open, too vulnerable. Even with Aegis holding his hand, watching his back, it's not something Vicious is able to say, not yet.
"You could join me," Vicious offers instead, flashing Aegis a grin.
"One of us has to be the responsible one," Aegis retorts. He shakes his head, offers Vicious a rueful sigh. "But I'll always ensure you make it back safe."
"My hero," Vicious croons, throwing his weight against Aegis's shoulders.
The ex-knight grumbles, mumbles about how it's a hassle to try to get down the wall and maybe he should throw Vicious off the side instead.
But after they climb down, he slings an arm around Vicious's back. Holds him steady in the night as they walk back.
It's a solid, steady weight. Warm and unwavering, holding him aloft, away from the darkness and the cold.
It's new. Unfamiliar.
And even though it's foolish, Vicious relaxes into it. Pretends, just this once, that everything will be okay.