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WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, PURPLEPIPER. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 541.26.365.77 *** PURPLEPIPER has joined 541.26.365.77 <PURPLEPIPER> Am I doing this right? <PURPLEPIPER> Pretty weird to just leave a message like this is an answering machine or something <PURPLEPIPER> ME leaving a message I mean! <PURPLEPIPER> You can leave one if you want and I'll just get back to you whenever I can. | ||||
it's fine!!!!!!! also suicidal ideation cw
Was his slip-up - the truth he tried to omit, albeit poorly - where this conversation started to spin out of control? He's not sure anymore. So much has happened in what feels like moments and hours all at once. And now...
Now he knows he has to say what he means, not only because all his attempts at keeping the truth to himself make his stomach curl into itself with cramps, but because the more he tries to hide, the more the Boss fears the worst.
And sure, Doppio is afraid too. Sure, he still can't believe the Boss would like to know the full, undiluted truth
- even Doppio himself struggles to face it. But if he has to choose between his fear and the Boss's... That makes the decision a lot easier, doesn't it?]Y-You mean... the world to me.
[He hesitates, still. It isn't that he fears being punished for a lie, because this isn't one - but some truths carry just as much terror with them, by their very nature.]
You're... everything. Everything I do, it's... it's for you. When we were separated-- No, when I found out what happened to you... I didn't want to exist anymore. There wasn't any point.
[It's true. It's true, and it hurts.]
But now we're both here, so... even if it's never going to be the same as before again... I know it's gonna be fine. Because... Because you're the one I live for.
is it normal to still have brainbees about stuff that happened years ago.like for me ya but DIAVOLO?
[He's heard the same sentiment murmured to him through the cold plastic of a toy phone and felt the warmth rise in their chest proving the words true, and he believed it then. With his whole heart, he believed. But since the day they were ripped apart, he has doubted. Something has changed, something is wrong, and what they had can never be the same. That is what every instinct tells him. He can't trust anymore. He mustn't.
It's different hearing it from the outside. Colder, dimmer. He can't sense the warmth of Doppio's words, nor his presence wrapped around him. He only feels the pulse of his own heart and hears his own hitching breath breaking the silence.
It isn't enough.]
Tell— tell me why. I want to understand. I want to trust you. Why live for someone who has failed you once before? You've lived for me. You've died for me. Why— why do it again?
heeheehoohoohee
[He hears the question. He understands it, in theory; he understands the dictionary meaning of the word. But what is he supposed to say? It's as if he's been asked to explain why the sky is blue, or... no, that's not right. There's a scientific explanation for the sky being blue, right? "Refraction"? No, it's more like...
More like he's being asked to explain why light exists.]
I just... I just want to. I don't know what else... [He shakes his head, brow furrowed in thought.] I can't think of anything else I'd rather be doing.
[It catches up with him then - the one thing the Boss said that he has to flat out correct.]
You didn't fail me. The traitors fucked it all up, that's what happened.
[He believes the Boss would have come back for him. He wants to believe it so badly that he does, and that's why it's true.]
no subject
You... aren't mad at me.
[An echo of Doppio's earlier words, and he weakly laughs as he repeats them. Ridiculous, all of this.]
While I am nothing less than infuriated with myself. I hate every mistake I've made, and every weaker version of myself that made them, that erred, that failed — that still fails, even now.
no subject
Of course I'm not, Boss.
[He doesn't mind saying it again. He'll say it as many times as he needs to, until the Boss can feel safe again.]
Um... I know how you feel about the past, [he thinks he does, anyway; ignorance doesn't make a lie] but - all those versions of yourself... the ones I remember, anyway... They've all meant the same to me. So... I dunno. Maybe you shouldn't be so hard on them?
[...]
I wish I were as good with words as you are, Boss. That sounded so stupid.
no subject
[A soft gasp, pained in the flood of words, and Diavolo buries himself closer. Nestles, nearly, his arms clinging flimsy to Doppio's waist, stilling him and steadying himself in one motion.
He feels a lot of things. Sick, dizzy, and exhausted to start, and the root of the trouble is the turmoil within, not the spell that pries apart his mind and lips. The problem is him. It's so easy, too easy to speak his truth. He's believed it for years. Doppio has always been with him for a reason, and today that reason shines.]
...'s why you're here. [Comes a half-swallowed murmur.] With me, and I with you. Where would I be without you, my Doppio? Lost. Constantly running. Unable to face myself. But I can face you. I can look at you, now, and... I can't hate what I see.
[It's like staring into a mirror a decade or so removed from reality. When it was his face, his gloomy expression carved into softer features, his piercing eyes breaking apart a gentle visage, he could hardly stand the sight of it. The desperation to outrun everything he was, to escape the past, to grow, to do better, to be better... even then it was built into him. Inescapable.]
And if you can look at me — soaked to the bone and miserable as I am — and tell me that I am enough... that I mean as much to you now as I did at my apex...
...then I can try to believe it.
[Try, try, try. Such a weak, whimpered finish, but it's the most he can manage today.]