hisheartsdesire | [ic] Contact

[The gash is large, the metallic tang of fresh blood hits Toby almost immediately, and he's suddenly immensely hungry and salivating from how good it smells...

...

The memory begins with the buzzing remnants of a forgotten conversation. Whatever Toby had said or laughed at earlier had been meaningless chatter to fill the silence and pass the time as they wait… for the sun. The sky starts to brighten, the clouds light up like mirrors reflecting the sun's beams, and that's when he looks at Dorian for what might be the last time.

Toby wants to remember him just like this, so perfect and beautiful and beloved. And he knows Dorian loves him in return, loves him even though he's a monster, a withered and decrepit soul inhabiting the shell of a young man who had died long ago. How filthy and disgusting; he has no right to live. All this time, not wanting to die, pretending his life has any meaning or worth…

He doesn't deserve eternity, and he certainly doesn't deserve Dorian.

"You don't have to do this, you know. We could head back—"

"No." He interrupts Dorian because he knows someone as beautiful and perfect and eternal as Dorian can't possibly understand. "No, it's fine, I want to see it again. It's funny… I can't ever remember wanting to see it before. Always assumed I must have; maybe I didn't." Having barely spoken these words, Toby suddenly cries out and then hisses in pain.

A band of red-violet stretches across the sky, chasing the lighter blue away.

"Oh—why, we should go back. We can find shelter, cover you up…"

"NO. No, I have to see this."

"That's the thing, though, Toby, you don't—"

"But I do! Dorian, please."

And then, the red-violet becomes rose becomes a brightly burning orange and amber. The daylight spreads like a red-hot infection, and Toby feels as if his whole being is burning and alight like a scorching coal. He clenches his teeth and tries to weather the pain as his skin splits into char and blisters.

Suddenly, Dorian's arms are around him. Dorian holds him close. And while he appreciates the sentiment, the gesture, the manifestation of Dorian's pure love, Toby can't quite feel his grasp but is guessing it must be tender and compassionate, caring and loving.

No, Toby can't really tell, can't physically feel it past his own self-inflicted fiery torment.

"Dorian… It hurts," he manages to grind out between miserable groans of agony. Everything inside him feels as though it's smouldering and splitting and breaking apart into billions of tiny pieces, if not even more than that.

"I know, I know…" Dorian's voice tries to be assuring and comforting.

Any and all of Toby's fluids start sizzling and evaporating. He cries uncontrollably, his boiling hot tears drizzling down his face and stinging his dry, cracked, blistering skin. Seemingly on its own, his countenance twists and contorts, and he can no longer hide his sorrow and weariness.

"Dorian, please… Th—you were right, I don't… I don't want to do this…"

Something takes hold of his face, these are Dorian's hands that probably feel so soft and tender; something presses against his burnt, raw lips, those are Dorian's sweet and succulent lips trying to kiss his pain away. He screams into Dorian, crying out as the sun incinerates him inside and out. As Dorian pulls away, Toby feels something on his head, this is Dorian running his hand through Toby's hair, small flakes of ash slipping through Dorian's fingers and seemingly dance in the air as they fall away. Toby turns his dry, bloodshot eyes to Dorian, his gaze pleading for… relief. But he knows it's already far too late to turn back, and so all he could ask is for Dorian to stay with him through to the very end.

"It's okay. It's okay," Dorian coos, trying to hush his pained groans. "It's fine, it's fine. Come on, you can do this. I'm here for you; remember, I always will be."

Even if he tries, Toby can barely even move anymore. There is hardly enough of his body left to hold itself together. Then, Dorian picks up Toby's hand and gives it the gentlest squeeze, and beneath his thin, charred, and peeling skin, Toby's insides shift like sand as if Dorian's careful grip will leave an imprint.

With what little strength and power he has over his body, Toby manages to squint at the intense ball of light above him and then… starts laughing.

"This is it then, Dorian. I think this is the end now…" He pants, sniffles, and continues, "I-it's beautiful… don't you think?"

"Mm-hmm… Like you and me, yeah?" Dorian swallows audibly. It sounds like he's trying not to be miserable himself. "Beauty and death, together."

"Yeah."

Again, Toby hisses and groans in pain, and Dorian's quiet chuckles turn into choked and bitter sobs.

"Look, I ought to say… thank you, and… I love you, Dorian Gray."

All emotion and thought and the memory itself come to an abrupt end as Toby's body completely turns to dust.

...

Toby screams as he is suddenly jarred from the memory, tears rippling down his face as he drops to his knees and hugs his shuddering self as if he'll come apart at any moment.]

[This is the first time Abduxel has ever called up such a physically painful memory. As he experiences it through Toby's mind, for these moments, Toby's torture is his own torture, too. In the real world, his face contorts, he breathes out heavily with a hissing tremble in his voice and bows his head, hands clenching at his own face, a couple of tears leaking out, his heart surging.

But for him, when it's over, the natural progression is for Toby's feelings to ebb away from Abduxel, and be replaced with satisfaction. Like a runner's high, he's flooded with a feeling of joy and reward.

He relaxes his posture slowly as the memory ends, letting out a long, heavy breath as Toby screams and drops to his knees in front of him. His breaths are ragged like he's just recovering from running up a hill. Even amongst the feelings of elation, he feels a twinge of human remorse to see Toby so destroyed in front of him.

As for the blood, at the end of it, it's charred, black and burnt.

He stands there, awkwardly silent for a moment, and then all he says is:]

Fuck.

Edited 2015-07-30 16:30 (UTC)

[That night when he first came back, broke into Dorian's place and waited for him to come home... that night, when he said he remembered dying in Dorian's arms as the sun rose... Toby hadn't meant it like this. He knew it happened, but his own memory had dimmed his senses and sensibilities to shield him from the pain. But Abduxel's powers had stripped away Toby's defenses, and his mind is shattered, stuck in a feedback loop lost in the pain and torment of that memory.

He doesn't hear Abduxel. In fact, he may not even remember where he is, let alone who is with him.

There's an eerie silence when Toby stops screaming, his exhausted body slowly tipping to one side and crashing to the ground before he curls into a ball and hugs his knees to his chest. Then, he whimpers as his gaze wanders to and fro in search of something. Someone. Dorian. And even through his blurry vision, he realizes and knows that Dorian isn't here.

And perhaps he'd be able to weather these feelings if only he weren't alone, but there's no point. This is what he deserves, not comfort. Not relief. This is what should be happening to him, and he deserves to suffer through it all alone.]

I'm sorry... [His voice is hoarse and ragged, the voice of a broken man.] I'm sorry, Dorian... I should never have... I shouldn't have done that to you... I'm so sorry. Please... please, forgive me, Dorian...

[Abduxel is more deeply conflicted now than he has been in a long time. It doesn't rival the cognitive dissonance that Lucifer causes, not by a mile, but it far eclipses anything else he's dealt with in the last... years.

He feels thrilled, drunk on power, energized to get what he wants, to see Tobias suffer, to have such an impact, to flex the muscles of his power and show someone what awe they should owe him.

And he feels disgusting and inhuman, cruel and evil, maybe even a little ashamed. He tries to rationalize this away instantly to soothe over that fractured, unmatching pair of feelings. Toby made this deal. Toby suggested it. Toby made his own choices in the memory. Toby took Dorian from me. Toby knew what he was getting into. Toby deserved it. None of this is my fault. I am a demon. I am a perfect demon. Lucifer told me so. There is nothing wrong with doing what I am supposed to do. This is right. I should be glad to be inhuman. I am powerful.

He watches Toby silently with a dry mouth, before he just comes to sit cross-legged on the ground beside him, watching his face, feeling a bit stuck in the rut of inaction. He clears his throat gently, and then says loudly:]

Tobias.

[A familiar voice cuts through the lingering pain of that memory; his eyes seem to focus, trying to see through the haze of his tears. He blinks, his expression contemplative as he tries to pick out that voice because it clearly isn't Dorian's. Then, he stops hugging himself and instead wipes his face before noticing someone sitting before him, someone who still isn't Dorian.]

Abdu—no. Matthew.

[Slowly, it comes back to him. What they were doing, the reason they're even here, Toby remembers it all now. But that doesn't stop the pain still stinging, still echoing in his heart and mind now that it's done. With a sniffle, he tries to compose himself and, with some effort, manages to sit up so that he and the demon are facing one another.

Some part of him is shocked and appalled Abduxel found that one; another part thinks he should've known the demon would specifically choose that one. After all, Abduxel seems to want nothing more than to take Dorian, and Toby happens to be standing in his way, and so he takes pleasure in making Toby miserable.

What does Dorian mean to... this monster?

Gradually, his breathing starts to stabilize, and he comments,]

Well... [He clears his throat and takes a deep breath. His voice sounds bitter, his body language is guarded, and he rolls his eyes as he continues,] You... must be... ecstatic now, after finding that one.

[So, why doesn't he look all that thrilled?]

[He doesn't say anything in return, at first, idly running his fingers over the charred line of blood on his own arm. He's not going to answer that question directly. After a moment, he says slowly,]

I understand you better.

[Now that he's more aware of reality and his surroundings, Toby notes there's a gunpowder-y smell in the air and knows that, much like his own blood on the mirror when summoning Abduxel, the demon's blood had baked when he took the memory. His gaze goes to Abduxel's arm, notes the crusty, dark line over the large gash, and then drops to the ground and glances at nothing in particular. Abduxel seems strangely silent, and Toby doesn't know what to make of this unexpected reaction.

His gaze goes to the demon's face when he finally speaks, and Toby's eyes narrow as his brows knit in confusion. How could he possibly understand? he thinks, and yet some part of him wants to believe that he's somehow connected with the demon.

But he still can't help feeling wary; there's a mix of defensiveness and suspicion in his voice.]

Oh, really now? Is that what you think?

[Abduxel gives him a look.]

It's what I know. If you're not aware, I feel everything - everything that you do. When we're doing that.

[He sighs a sort of rueful laugh, shaking his head.]

That was... phew. So much worse than the way I died.

[Toby unknowingly shrinks back and drops his gaze when Abduxel gives him that look. When the demon finishes talking, he really doesn't know what to say. At least he somehow connected with Abduxel, but... it was something so personal, finally facing his fears and himself in that particular way. And, of course, with Dorian there to assure him, comfort him, love him, and most of all, respect his decision after all that.

Though he continues looking at the ground, his expression softens as he gives a small shrug.]

Not that I'd know, but I really would much rather not trade notes.

[He chuckles softly, the tension slowly melting away, and then he sighs.]

...care for a drink? It's on me.

Are you sure? I could show you. It would be nothing after that.

[It's hard to tell if he's serious, but suddenly he's reaching out to wipe a tear from Toby's cheek. Just briefly - the touch doesn't linger - although of course Toby is free to dodge or swat him away.]

Sure, a drink sounds great. I think we both need one.

[His eyes widen when Abduxel reaches out to him; his heart races, but he doesn't flinch or pull away. His cheek feels unnaturally cold, as vampire skin is wont to, but not icy or frigid. It's probably nice in the Florida heat and humidity.

He swallows, and then shakes his head.]

I'm sure. Please, I'd rather not. [Seems he's had enough for the evening.] Can we just... go? For drinks, please?

Yeah, let's go. Have a place in mind, Tobias?

[He stands then, straightening out his suit and dusting off his butt, since he sat on the ground in it.]

I do know a few in the area. [He also gets up and brushes himself off, namely the side on which he'd toppled over earlier.] But I didn't have anywhere specific in mind—any preferences?

Yeah, I think I know a bar that's walkable from here. That's about all that matters, isn't it?

[He starts to lead them the correct direction. After an awkward pause,]

Well, we're square now.

Yeah...

[And Toby follows, resigning himself to his confusion and allowing them to lapse into a stiff silence.

So when Abduxel speaks, Toby nods in agreement before letting out a sigh of relief.]

So, that settles it. I'm glad to call it even. [A beat.] And... it's fine if you call me Toby, by the way.

[He turns a small, amused smile towards Toby as they walk.]

Does that mean we're friends now? You have strange criteria for friendship.

I don't know, I just—

[He shrugs, and it's clear from his expression he's still boggling over Abduxel suddenly being nice.]

I guess I thought that this might be what all your other friendships might be like. It's not as if I really know anything about you.

[He laughs with an open grin, winking after he says:] You must be baffled how I have friends at all, if that's the case.

[The demon manages to tease a small smile out of Toby.]

Well, surely you've some sort of demonic charisma that draws people close regardless of how you treat them.

It's my ethereal good looks, actually.

You know, you're not like any vampire I've met.

[And now, a curious look.]

Wh—well, what makes you say that?

[Why, do they all fall putty into his lap, or do all of them just hate his guts, or is it something else he can't think of?]

[He says it matter-of-factly:]

You're so gentle and in-control.

[Toby fights off the niggling urge to protest he'd never asked for this in the first place. Instead, he shrugs.]

Oh, I don't know about "in-control". You've already seen one of the fledgelings.

[He frowns as he remembers what they'd mentioned of Kanaya at the swear-in.]

One of? How many did you make?

—Why? Does it matter?

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