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“Then I’ll teach you a charm,” Meliodas told him simply. His voice a calming touch to Gilthunder’s shaky nerves. Meliodas’ smile was as bright as ever, his gaze earnest as he met his gaze. Gilthunder closed his eyes. His voice shook as he spoke the words Meliodas taught him.
“I-I am m-more p-powerful than… than any of t-the Seven Deadly S-Sins.”
Gilthunder curled his trembling hands into fists. The sword felt heavy in his hold. He forced the breathes in and out of his body. He couldn’t waver – not now, not ever. Determination flooded his mind.
“I am now more powerful than any of the Seven Deadly Sins.”
Gilthunder opened his eyes again, feeling unnaturally calm. Meliodas’ expression had fallen. His eyes stared at Gilthunder, wide and distant. He formed slow, soundless words. A harsh cough suddenly wracked his body. Blood painted his lips a bright red as it sprayed across Gilthunder’s chest. His eyes screamed the betrayal his mouth couldn’t.
Gilthunder gasped. He flinched, almost staggering backwards, but his hand was still wrapped tightly around the handle of his weapon, keeping him in place. His gaze fell to his sword. The blade was piercing Meliodas’ body, piercing his heart. Blood flowed from the wound, coating the weapon with it. It reached all the way to Gilthunder’s hand – tainting it – and fell to floor to pool around their feet. There was so much blood. Too much. It seemed impossible for it all to have come from one being; unthinkable for Meliodas to still remain standing.
Gilthunder’s hand shook. No, he didn’t want this. Yet still, he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the sword. He wanted to, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t!
Meliodas let out another breath, choked and wheezing, causing more blood to spill past his lips, “Little Gil…”
Gilthunder’s gaze snapped up to Meliodas’ face. He didn’t want this! Tears ran down his cheeks. Emerald eyes stared back at him, now void of life.
-X-
Gilthunder shot up in his bed. Panic squeezed his throat so tight no scream would come out. He wrapped his arms around him, tears burning his eyes. He tried to breathe through it; in and out, in and out, in…
It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream, it’s just a dream.
Out… When nothing helped, he threw on a jacket and headed outside. The air was cool as it whipped across his face. His legs trembled slightly as they steered him by their own accord.
It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream, he desperately continued his mantra.
The thing was though, it wasn’t. Gilthunder had tried to kill Meliodas. More than once. He actually had struck him down. He had prepared to deliver the finishing blow. If Meliodas hadn’t freed him when he had, Gilthunder would have helped Hendrickson kill him.
Before Gilthunder had even planned or realized it, he was standing outside the Boar Hat. It wasn’t an accident – you didn’t just accidentally walk to the Boar Hat. Still… he couldn’t bring himself to knock on the door. Gilthunder sighed, his hand dropping back down. He turned his back to the door.
“Yo, Little Gil.”
If he hadn’t choked on his own breath, Gilthunder would have shrieked. Instead, the sound caught in his throat. As it was, he only startled bad enough to fall head-first down the stairs as he twisted around at unexpected voice. He barely had time to see a mop of golden locks before he was facing the stars high above. Their peaceful twinkling seemed like a mockery to his racing heart.
“Whoa! Take it easy, Little Gil, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Meliodas punctuated the sentence with a small laugh and looked down at Gilthunder. As always, his smile was bright, his eyes earnest. Gilthunder felt like he was going to be sick. Meliodas was pulling back up to his feet before he can process what was happening.
“You alright?” he asked. The smile was still present on his lips – lips painted red with blood – as emerald eyes studied Gilthunder – eyes void of life.
He couldn’t breathe.
“Little Gil?”
The next few moments were nothing but a blur. A blur and panic – because Gilthunder couldn’t breathe. Can’t, can’t, can’t!
He was vaguely aware of Meliodas guiding him down to sit on the porch steps. Of how he kept speaking softly to him. Of words that became a strange buzzing in his ears. A hand grabbing his and placing it on a chest. A heart that beat strongly and calmly and not at all like it was trying to escape its confines within his body like Gilthunder’s was.
“Breathe,” Meliodas encouraged him. Gilthunder could feel him breathe underneath his hand. In and out. A peaceful, steady rhythm. Gilthunder tried to mimic it. “That’s it. Just follow my lead. Breathe.”
Eventually – somehow – Gilthunder’s heart stopped its rebellion, his lungs remembered how to work, and he wasn’t actively dying. Meliodas had stopped talking, but his fingers were still gently wrapped around Gilthunder’s as they kept his hand against Meliodas’ chest. His skin burned when he remembered what had happened.
Gilthunder tugged his hand back. Meliodas shouldn’t be comforting him. Meliodas’ own hand fell to his knee. He tilted his head, watching Gilthunder.
“I’m okay,” Gilthunder mumbled.
“Mmm, that seems like an overstatement,” Meliodas hummed. “But I guess I don’t have to ask what you are doing up and about.”
Gilthunder winced at that. He couldn’t really say the same thing though – Meliodas didn’t even look like he’d gone to bed in the first place. He was dressed up as always, seemingly milling about the Boar Hat in the middle of the night. What had he been doing? While Gilthunder clearly wasn’t the most aware, he was fairly certain the door hadn’t opened behind him. Yet Meliodas seemed to have noticed the second he arrived at the tavern.
“Can’t sleep,” Gilthunder admitted , which definitely was an understatement. One Meliodas seemed to catch up on if the look he sent him was anything to go by.
“Yeah,” Meliodas said, shifting to a cross-legged position beside Gilthunder. “You wanna talk about it? Your nightmare, I mean.”
Gilthunder didn’t answer at first. This hadn’t been part of the plan – not that he’d had one to begin with. He could barely even meet Meliodas’ gaze, yet sitting here next to him, the truth slipped out anyway.
“I killed you.” The confession tasted sour on his tongue. His stomach twisted uncomfortably at the memory. “In the dream I-… I stabbed you in the heart.”
“Oh… Well, one’s not too bad.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.” Meliodas was waving it off before Gilthunder could even process what he’d said. “I’m just saying, it was a dream. You don’t have to feel bad about things you do in a dream, Little Gil.”
Gilthunder clenched his fist, shaking his head, “But it wasn’t just a dream.”
“What do you mean?” Meliodas asked, as if it wasn’t obvious. As if the memories weren’t a permanent fixture in Gilthunder’s mind, along with all other horrible things he did these past ten years.
“I have tried to kill you,” Gilthunder cried out. A wave of fresh, hot tears threatened to fall. “I almost did kill you in the Forest of White Dreams!”
Meliodas didn’t deny it, he just nodded his head at him, humming slightly.
“You know what else you did?” Meliodas questioned, meeting Gilthunder’s teary-eyed expression with a soft smile. “You saved my life, from Hendrickson.”
“The only reason he almost killed you was because you choose to save me instead!” Gilthunder protested.
“Well, I did promise you ten years ago, didn’t I? I’ll always come to rescue you.”
The tears finally fell as the only guilt Gilthunder was faced with was his own.
“Besides, the only reason you almost killed me in the Forest of White Dreams was because I let you. I needed to find out where the others were and that was just the fastest way.”
“Maybe,” Gilthunder admitted. Meliodas did have a point. Gilthunder striking him had been on his terms. In hindsight, his fighting before and after had almost been like night and day. Gilthunder had tried to kill him, and Meliodas had let him. “But I still would have killed you if I could have.”
Meliodas sighed at that, seemingly frustrated with the way the conversation was going, “Then why did you?”
“I- What?”
Meliodas looked at him seriously, the smile gone, as he repeated, “Why did you try to kill me?”
“I had to do it!” Gilthunder sniffed. “I had to keep Margaret safe, I didn’t-”
“Exactly!” Meliodas beamed at him. “You did it for Margaret. Did you do bad things, yes. Did you hurt people, yes. But… you did it all for the woman you love. That might not make any of it okay, but I get it.”
Meliodas glanced off to the side, his bangs covering his eyes, “I know what it’s like to do anything for someone that precious to you.”
There was a weight to his words, a certain edge to his tone – it felt painful and personal and unintelligible. A part of Gilthunder wanted to reach out a soothe that ache, but he didn’t even know how he would begin to do so. And almost as soon as it had appeared, it was gone. Meliodas turned back to him. The smile back on his lips.
“You didn’t fail,” he told him. “You protected Margaret, and that’s the important thing, okay? As for the rest, well, you can still atone for your sins. And I don’t blame you for what you did.”
“You should,” Gilthunder mumbled. The guilt still heavy in his mind. How could Meliodas just shrug it off like that?
“Okay, then how about you start with that atoning right now?” Meliodas suggested, standing up.
“Huh?”
“Let’s head inside and grab a drink, just you and me. Then you can apologize properly, if that’ll make you feel better.”
Meliodas was opening the door and disappearing inside before Gilthunder even had the time to decide if he wanted to protest or not. He didn’t. That sounded perfect actually. It wouldn’t actually change anything, but, if nothing else, it was a start.
“Okay.”