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Maybe he should have expected the shove, but he didn’t.
His heart, the heart he shouldn’t really have, lurched. Cold shock suffused his stomach. His hands grabbed unbidden, anchoring him to the most important thing in the world. Cloth tore. His claws were wet.
This space wasn’t real. Not materially real, but Eiji’s blood on his talons made him feel sick anyway. He pulled, hauling the man into his arms before he could overcome his shock and try to eject him again. Held crushingly tight, pinning Eiji’s arms against his sides.
Talons slick with blood slipped into Eiji’s shaggy hair, pressing his face into Ankh’s shoulder. He could feel the heat of the imaginary blood soaking into his designer shirt, which was also imaginary so the imaginary stain didn’t matter.
He was trembling.
They both were.
“Please-” Eiji’s voice cracked, rough with strain. “I can’t. I can’t it hurts so much I-”
“No.” Ankh said. His scaled fingers combed through Eiji’s messy hair, making the mess worse even as he clung tighter. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks. Eiji struggled but it was weak, unable to break his grip.
“I can’t let you-” When Eiji spoke it was like there was something in his mouth. Ankh cut him off.
“You can’t stop me.” Ankh’s voice was harsh even in his own ears, angry. Eiji’s clothes, Eiji’s skin were growing wet under his hands.
“Let go…” Eiji begged, voice wet. Hot liquid dripped on Ankh’s shoulder. The smell of blood was so strong.
And then he knew it wasn’t blood.
It was pain.
Eiji’s desires, so massive and yet so suppressed, had always intrigued him. He could feel them, just, buried so deep he’d never have found them if he didn’t know to look. The pain soaked into him, running down Eiji in streams. He let it.
“Ankh…” Eiji sputtered, bubbles popping on his lips.
“Go to sleep, idiot.” Ankh stroked Eiji’s sodden hair, ignoring the cloying smell of pain. The desire to be free of it rose off Eiji like a choking miasma. The body they currently shared was in miserable shape, only held together by the power of his medals. “Go to sleep, you’ll feel better when you wake up.” The pain pooled around them, lapping at his ankles.
“It’s so much…” Eiji slurred into his shoulder.
“I’m a Greed.” Ankh said firmly. “I want it all .”
Wet arms touched his back, hesitant. Pressed the wet cloth of his shirt against his back.
A little bit of the tension went out of his body, allowing himself to rest a small amount of his weight on Ankh.
They were both sodden, standing almost knee deep in Eiji’s pain.
Ankh loosened his death grip. Eiji rested against him for long moments, breathing slowly.
Ankh’s hands cupped Eiji’s face. Framed between the human hand and the Greed claw, drenched in the metaphorical blood that dripped from his skin like sweat, Eiji looked exhausted. Half dead, he thought, was the expression. And half was already too much.
It ran from his eyes like tears and dripped from his mouth.
Ankh kissed him anyway. As though Eiji, who had once almost been a Greed, might be able to feel his desire in turn.
“You carried me for a long time,” Ankh said when they parted. Eiji’s exhausted brown eyes, tinted by the blood-pain tears, blinked. “It’s my turn to carry you, whether you like it or not.”
Eiji smiled, expression changing slowly from the slightly vacant one he’d worn since his real feelings had broken through the facade. It wasn’t very wide, but it was genuine and enough to make the dimples in his cheeks appear.
He didn’t speak. He couldn’t argue. He raised his arms as though it was a great effort, slid them around Ankh’s neck and leaned into him. Let him take the weight.
Ankh stayed still, just feeling Eiji’s presence. The human’s breathing slowly slipped into the deep, even pattern of sleep. Familiar, from watching him in the little room above Cous Coussier. An eternity ago and just yesterday at the same time.
He was a Greed. He wanted . It was his nature. He wanted everything .
And one thing he desired above all others. One thing made the whole world desirable.
With exaggerated care Ankh lifted the sleeping Eiji, whose arms were still loosely locked around his neck.
He was heavy, but that didn’t matter.
It was hard to walk in the blood that was Eiji’s pain, thick and hot and nearly up to his waist. That didn’t matter either.
It stretched into the horizon with no sign of dry land. It didn’t matter.
He’d carry Eiji out of his pain, one step at a time. As long as it took. As far as it took.
It still dripped occasionally, welling up through the man’s skin. But not pouring off him in torrents. No longer choking him as he tried to speak.
It was a start.
Ankh walked, one laboriously step after another. The most precious burden in his arms.
“Ankh?”
His eyes opened. A rubble strewn parking lot in the late day sun.
“... Eiji?”
Hina. A voice that was so familiar and a million years ago at the same time.
“He’s sleeping.” Ankh said. “Until his body heals.” He flexed his clean, dry hands. Their hands. Eiji’s body felt different than the detective’s.
He’d have a long time to get used to it. Eiji’s body was in far worse shape than the detective’s had been.
Izumi Shingo appeared as though summoned by the thought, walking unsteadily amongst the debris. Still wearing the outfit Goda had gifted him earlier, when he was pretending to be Eiji.
Perfect. The fit wouldn’t be quite right but it would be better than the loose bags Eiji called clothing
“Give me those clothes!” Ankh demanded, striding aggressively towards Shingo.