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Echo	By : lissatyger Category: +S through Z > Xenogears Views: 1737 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Xenogears, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Echo
- 1
Title: Echo

Fandom: Xenosaga

Pairing: Rubedo/Albedo

Archived: My LJ and the Xenoyaoi
Yahoo group. Ask before archiving elsewhere.

Rating NC-17: angst, incest,
explicit sex, masochism

Disclaimer: I do not own Xenosaga or
these characters and I am making no money off this story.

It has only been a few hours since the
revelation that will change his life. Has already changed it. He
had never realized, never known: death... is forever? His entire
conception of the world has changed.

He looked at Rubedo, begging him to
tell him that it wasn't true, that they shared the same ability to
regenerate, as they share almost everything else. They are nearly
the same person, after all. Connected, bound to one another in so
many ways. How can this be something they don't share? This, which
suddenly matters more than anything. Because now he knows: Rubedo
will die. Could die at any time. And leave him alone forever.

He has never been alone. From the
moment of his birth, before it, Rubedo has been there, linked to him
in body and then in mind. He had scarcely even realized that they
were separate. Now, faced with the truth, that he is different,
different in a way that matters more than anything, Albedo
contemplates loneliness for the first time. An endless vista of
desert, unchanging and unrelieved, no hope for his twin to rescue
him, stretches before him. His soul shivers at it. He wants to hide
from it, but he can't forget this terrible knowledge.

He is
alone now, and it feels more complete than before, a foretaste of the
endless being alone to come. He had seen the expression in Rubedo's
eyes, felt his shock and horror like it was a blow. He had to get
away: he can't bear to feel the rejection, the revulsion, yet being
away hurts. And yet
he can't forget; the image replays over and over in his mind.

His stomach cramps
and he curls into a ball around it. He can feel Rubedo looking for
him; can feel him trying to understand, wanting to apologize, but he
isn't sure he is ready to face him. Not yet. And of course Rubedo
knows he isn't ready and so doesn't find him. Leaving Albedo alone.
He doesn't want to be alone! He will always be alone.

He must have
somehow fallen asleep, because it is dark now, and the others (and
never have they felt more other than they do tonight) are asleep.
He can hear their breathing in the dark, but for once it doesn't
soothe him. Instead it feels like the breathing of some predator,
hunting him. No, worse, hunting the only one who means anything to
him.

He knows Rubedo is
still there, still safe, but it isn't enough. He wants to know it on
some visceral, deeper level. That he is safe, that he still loves
him. That his heart is still whole.

Rubedo doesn't
wake when he crawls into bed besides him. Why should he? It's not a
stranger or a threat; it is the other half of his heart, his twin,
returning to lay with him as they had lain before birth. He listens
to his heartbeat, in unison with his own, and feels almost at peace.
This is the only way he can ever feel at peace. Rubedo's presence
soothes his fears, makes him feel like a whole person. How could he
exist without him?

Now he knows,
though, in a way he hasn't before: they aren't the same. He watches
Rubedo's chest rise and fall in the dark and realizes: he could hurt
him. He could hurt him, and he wouldn't feel it himself and it
wouldn't heal. Not right away. Maybe not at all. He could kill his
brother, here and now, in the dark, before anyone could stop him. He
had never known that. He looks at him and wonders what it would be
like. What would it be like to be that vulnerable? How can he
trust, how can he ever feel safe, knowing his hurts won't heal? What
would it be like to be the cause of those hurts? Would he enjoy it?
Albedo almost suspects he would, and the idea frightens him.

He doesn't hurt
him, of course. He needs him; he loves him; he almost is him.
Instead he wraps his arms around him, holds him tight, and kisses
his other self softly on the lips, seeking reassurance.

He feels Rubedo
wake, but he doesn't push him away. He knows how badly Albedo needs
this, can feel his desperation. Rubedo is the leader of the URTVs;
of course he will try to reassure any of the others. But Albedo
hopes it is more than that.

“I'm sorry,”
Rubedo whispers, as Albedo stares at him, trying to memorize him,
make him his. “I didn't know.”

He kisses him
again because he doesn't want to hear it. The reassurance he needs
goes deeper than words. They almost insult it. Tonight, he needs to
know he isn't alone.

His hands delve
inside the institutional pajamas Rubedo wears, that he would be
wearing had he ever changed. He is hungry for the touch of skin on
skin; wants to prove to himself in all ways that Rubedo is here,
with him, still a part of him. Nipples harden under his fingers and
he swallows the moan he knows his brother will make with his mouth.

“Please,
make me a part of you again,” Albedo whispers. He knows what
Rubedo's response will be before he hears it, but he wants to hear it
anyway. He is so hungry for his touch that he wants to whimper with
it.

“You are
a part of me,” Rubedo says, as he always does at times like
these, but it has never mattered so much before. “You are the
other half of my heart.” And he feels that he shares the same
need, the need they never voice. But then they don't have to.

He can't tell
anymore whose hands are where, who is touching and whom is being
touched. It all slides together in a blend of pleasure and need,
reflected endlessly back on itself. And then he breaks the pattern.

“Hurt me,”
Albedo says. “I need you to be rough.” The depth of his
sudden need for pain astonishes him.

Rubedo goes
absolutely still. He can feel the shock in his mind. “I...
how can you ask me to do that?” he whispers back angrily. “I
love you! How can I hurt you?”

“Please.”
He hates explaining, hates using words. Can't Rubedo feel it: the
rightness of his request?

“You saw,
earlier today. Any hurt you do me won't be permanent. Being hurt
might as well be what I was made for; might be what I was made
for. Please, fulfill my purpose! Hurt me. Make me feel it. I need
to feel something!”

He can feel
Rubedo's reluctance, but knows his need calls to him. “All
right,” he says, hesitantly. “Just this once.”

He bites him,
hard, and Albedo moans. Nails leave bloody furrows in his skin and
he loves it, even as they glow violet and vanish. Rubedo penetrates
him, with no preparation, no lubrication, and the pain is intense and
terrible. He feels himself tear, and he just wants more. He isn't
sure there could ever be enough pain, that anyone could ever hurt him
enough, to fill the emptiness inside him: the aching need he had
never known was there and yet now seems to be an inherent part of his
being. He wishes Rubedo had a weapon, something to cause more severe
damage. But he doesn't say it. He can feel Rubedo's reluctance at
even this and knows he is hurting him, too, at least emotionally.
This is enough, for now. It has to be.

A particularly
hard bite and he comes, as his twin swallows his cries. This, too,
is different and yet the same: the intense pleasure entwined with and
part of the pain. It has never been like this before. He doesn't
think he will ever want it any other way again.

Afterwards, they
lay together, as they have on many other nights. He can feel
Rubedo's blue eyes watching him, searching him, inside and out. But
the only damage is inside and invisible, although he knows he can
sense it.

“If I asked
you, would you kill me?”

Shock, horror,
fear, revulsion. All in waves that beat at him, so strong he can
almost see them. Albedo tries to make him understand.

“If you
died, I would be alone. I don't want to be alone. I couldn't bear
it. Please, don't leave me alone.”

Rubedo doesn't
understand, doesn't want to understand. “I won't leave you
alone, Albedo,” he says, strength and determination in his
young voice. “You know that.”

Such mindless
reassurances are for children and Albedo is no longer a child, not
after today. “You wouldn't mean to, maybe. But you would.
Please, will you kill me when I ask? I want it to be you, my
brother. My other half.”

This means so much
to him. How can Rubedo say no? But he can feel that the very asking
hurts him. How can he not understand? Albedo would do anything
to not be alone. Death would be a gift, a gesture of love. Who
better to give that gift than the twin he loves more than life?

Rubedo tries a
different tack. “What about me? I don't want to be left
alone, either. I need you.” His voice breaks, and Albedo can
tell he is trying not to cry, trying to keep his voice down. But
this discussion hurts too much to have any other way; words create
distance from their substance and they both need that desperately.

He is sincere, but
he is still wrong. “You think you do, but you don't. You're
the leader, the hero. I'm just your sidekick, a cheap copy. You are
the real person, I am just your echo. Don't you see that?”

He'd always known
it. Even their bodies showed it: Rubedo in bright color, while
Albedo was pale and faded, barely visible next to him. Rubedo is the
leader; he merely follows. He had never wanted it to be any other
way. He still didn't.

“I am only
real with you here, Albedo. You are my other half. Please, don't
ask this of me.”

Albedo kisses him,
accepting his answer. Rubedo isn't ready and maybe he isn't either.
For now, they will still be together. For tonight, it's enough.
- 1
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