epitaffio | IC Inbox

I don't remember.

[More than apologetic, Doppio sounds afraid. When Javert accused him, it was easy to ignore - of course the cop was either lying or mistaken; of course he didn't know what he was talking about. This is harder to dismiss, because it comes from the Boss - whose word is inherently valuable - and because the evidence he has dismissed so far hits differently when it comes from such a reliable source.

He's shaking. It's hard not to look. He settles for turning to face the Boss but keeping his eyes firmly on the floor.

There is one truth he can tell. This, he knows.]

It... It wasn't the fourth when I woke up. It was later.

[He doesn't remember the exact day anymore. It could have been the eighth, it could have been the tenth.]

When? Where? Were you injured at all?

[If any of Diavolo's theories approached the reality of the situation then perhaps he would ease up on the questioning, especially as Doppio is steadily looking and sounding worse as the conversation drags on. He'd feel bad for scaring him (and maybe he will, later) if figuring this out weren't so vital.]

If it truly wasn't you that attacked and... ate me that night, then who? I can only assume that it's someone deliberately trying to impersonate you. It was far more bestial, but the details are... too close. They draw you to mind immediately.

[He thinks again of the patterned arms... and then he thinks of the same pattern on the arms of the plushies in Doppio's museum exhibit, and he thinks of the people here who have witnessed King Crimson personally. It is not impossible that someone could make the connection here and use the imagery to add weight to this hypothetical illusion.]

If I was targeted intentionally - and it's incredibly likely that this is the case, we have enemies with us here - you understand I cannot rest until we uncover and stop the one responsible for this.

I don't remember, [he repeats, and this time he sounds even more like he wants to sink into the floor.] I-I think it was a Monday.

[He knows he hasn't been doing as well when it comes to keeping his days straight without the Boss, but perhaps he hadn't realised just how bad it was until now. It's not surprising, looking at how they'd always operated - no matter where Doppio found himself, a call would inevitably follow, and before long he'd be brought back up to speed - but it sure doesn't help him feel any better. What, so he can't even function without somebody keeping track of the calendar for him, keeping track of whatever the hell he gets up to when he doesn't know?

His heart may not be beating, but the pressure in his chest persists. The headache, luckily, has dulled down, but he can still feel it pulsing softly. The idea that somebody could be impersonating him is... It would be absurd, in any other circumstances, but now that the Boss is here, he has a point - they do have enemies. It isn't impossible.

... Wait a second.]

I... I don't know who it is. I really don't have a clue. But... Boss, this isn't the first time. There is some other pink guy - [another wince, another stab to the side of his head; he presses a hand to it] - a-attacking people out there.

[The wince doesn't go unnoticed.]

Are you sure you're alright?

[By this point in the conversation, the sense of dread has ebbed enough that Diavolo doesn't feel the need to stay glued to the door for ease of escape. He came for answers and he only found more questions. Doppio hasn't provided much in the way of information, but, all the same, he hasn't slipped once in his insistence that he wasn't the culprit. Diavolo cautiously steps further into the room, gently in the hopes he doesn't startle Doppio, who is already on edge.

Doppio hasn't shown any aggression, and just talking about this has clearly been bringing a great deal of stress to him. The conviction Diavolo had when he entered the room has wavered with the introduction of other possibilities, and all must be considered. Enlisting Doppio's help investigating other potentials seems like the best course of action. If it were Doppio, willfully or not, remorsefully or not, prodding is producing no results.

If it was him, Diavolo can keep an eye on him, observing and watching for changes in behavior. In the worst-case scenario, he knows people now who may be willing to lend him space again if he needs to leave in a hurry.

And if it wasn't... then they need to figure out the hows and whys of this quickly.]

There have been other attacks? Do you know who and when? Depending on their intentions, there may be some sort of pattern...

[He lets his musing trail off.]

Yeah, I'm fine! Let's stay focused, Boss.

[Headaches are nothing new for him, after all. Although... They do sometimes precede his episodes, don't they? Should he tell the Boss...? No, maybe not. He doesn't feel dizzy, or... anything else that usually comes with these things. He can't put a finger on it; perhaps if he could, he wouldn't be caught off-guard so often.]

I only know of one other for sure. Javert, that cop I told you about... Actually, remember when I went to the museum last month? He wanted to talk about it again. He said he could prove it, but those bite marks were way too big for my mouth, so I don't know what the hell he was thinking.

[Doppio rolls his eyes with a grumpy pout and crossed arms. He doesn't usually have much good to say about Javert, but if he stopped to think about it right now, he might have to give him some credit - he'd rather think about that asshole cop than this impostor for a bit.]

[The response comes so quickly that Diavolo doubts its sincerity, but he can't fault Doppio for his eagerness.]

The beast was much larger than you. Its teeth were strong enough to... to take off my head. But, Doppio, the similarities are striking enough that even I came to the conclusion that it must be you, and I know you better than anyone else. He can't be faulted for being mistaken, especially if that is the intention here.

[He paces further into the apartment, into the kitchen where he fixes himself a glass of juice. He talks at a low volume while he walks, as though he expects his voice to carry to Doppio regardless of his position.]

I've spoken to him briefly. If he's as invested in the actions of the monsters here as he he seems, he may be a valuable asset to us in the future. But if he's already suspicious of you... I think it would be best for us to keep a safe distance from him for now.

[Then he settles in a chair with the drink and leans forward, resting his chin against a hand deep in thought. Multiple potential explanations still roll around in his brain and no single one has stuck out as the most obvious yet.]

Do you remember when he was attacked? Did he tell you any of the details?

[His head? Doppio gulps, looking up before he can help himself. That injury he'd seen... It really wasn't a normal cut. But even in the middle of this frightening realisation, something in him warms at one thing: I know you better than anyone else. It's true, it always has been, it still is, and sometimes he dares to wonder if it goes both ways. Or he did, before Giorno told him a name that nobody should know and Doppio was introduced to the stomach-turning idea that a group of good-for-nothing traitors know his name and his face--

... But that's still all that it is, isn't it? A name and a face. It matters, of course, because these are things the Boss has protected relentlessly for so long... but it doesn't mean they know him better than Doppio does.

Doppio realises the Boss is moving and his ears twitch, turning in an attempt to capture his voice better. Right. Because they're in the same room. And that is how sound works.

His earlier thoughts and his current thoughts and the laws of physics crash together to abruptly remind Doppio of how overwhelmed he feels, and it takes him a moment or two to remember he's supposed to be saying things.

He wonders if he should reserve that chair for the Boss's exclusive use.]

... It was a while ago. Maybe a year? He said... I don't really remember, but--

[He does remember one thing.

Javert knew where Doppio was injured.]

I... I think it happened after I'd been out of it for a while that time, too.

"Out of it?" What exactly do you mean, Doppio? Were you... recently killed by someone then, too?

[Diavolo was quick to write off Doppio's confusion and disorientation as a side-effect of the revival process, and the discrepancy in the time and location as... perhaps resurrection is just like that, not unlike how the details varied during his own constant stream of deaths.

He himself was disoriented in the days after his revival, though that was more due to a consuming sense of fear. Given the information, the most logical answer consistent with the theory he's examining right now is that Doppio was either attacked deliberately to get him out of the picture for a time, or otherwise his absence was noticed and taken advantage of.

Really, it only makes sense that the beast he saw that night wouldn't want to risk being seen when Doppio is out and about. But as it is, Doppio is left without an alibi.

He stares at Doppio as he waits for a response, his drink nearly forgotten in his hands.]

Oh, no! Don't worry, Boss. This was actually the first time I died other than-- Uh, the undying, you know, that's part of the whole... zombie deer thing. And-- [The other death, the obvious one, the only one that had felt real until the sea swallowed him up and Doppio wondered if it would finally be over for good.] Yeah, don't worry.

[He won't mention it. There's no point in mentioning it. Instead -]

I'm actually talking about, um...

[- he can take comfort in the one thing he always remembers whenever Javert's accusations and other people's disbelief make him second-guess himself.]

... You know... The same old issue.

[It's embarrassing and comforting, all at once, to mention it to the Boss. After all, it's the kind of thing one would imagine might make someone entirely unfit for a position like the one Doppio used to hold, and yet, the Boss always accepted it. More than that, he let Doppio know it was fine.

So, if it was still happening, it had to be fine now too, and it shouldn't mean anything. If he's experiencing something he experienced back home, why on Earth would it have something to do with anything from here?]

[Doppio is prone to glossing over his own lapses in memory and perhaps that's Diavolo's own fault. But that "issue" was a thing of the past, when every lapse had a purpose. If Doppio is blacking out still - and, worse, if it's with something approaching regularity...

Diavolo tries to keep his expression and tone perfectly still while an icy feeling rises within him. He'd conditioned Doppio to think this was normal. This is not normal, not anymore, this is a sign of something very wrong and he wants to poke and prod until he finds out exactly what, but this is dangerous ground to tread. One misstep, one out-of-place question or display of concern too high for a perceived routine problem, and soon all the years of history between the two of them will begin to unravel. He can't allow that to happen.]

In the weeks we spent together here, you hadn't had any incidents like those of the past. I had... hoped, perhaps, that they'd stopped for good. A mortal problem, purged somewhere between death and this... rebirth, as a monster. But, no. I see.

[When, he wonders, did his perception shift? When did it start mattering what he says and does? At some point he'd stopped wryly thinking of the person standing before him as "zombie deer Doppio", strange and unnatural. He's just "Doppio" to him now, and just like when they were alive, he weaves the same web of lies as though there's something real left to protect with them. Hasn't he has already lost everything? There is no secrecy left to uphold. No amount of lying could ever soothe Doppio and maintain the relationship built up between them if he is only a memory, alone and dead, burning bright in Diavolo's mind.

Why has he started to feel like the Doppio in his memories and the Doppio in this world are one and the same?

He exhales heavily and drops his head down further, palm against his forehead, fingers digging at his hair.]

...It must have been hard to bear alone.

[Putting aside the strangely uncomfortable connotations of the word "rebirth" in this context - what does he know, though? Maybe he'll ask the Boss for his thoughts on the whole monster thing at a better time - this just so happens to bring to attention one other detail tends to turn a blind eye to.]

Oh, that's... Yeah, the timing's kind of different now.

[He's aware that it's different, of course. He just has to take care not to let that awareness cross paths with anything else.]

Actually, I thought they stopped too, for my first month or two. It almost felt wrong, somehow. [Barely a second after the words are out of his mouth, it occurs to Doppio that they might sound a bit strange, and he hurries to clarify:] Not bad, or anything! I just wasn't used to...

[How should he even put it?]

Having so much... time, I guess.

[Something like that. Experiencing every minute and every hour of every day in a week.]

Anyway, I guess maybe they just stopped while I was... I dunno, adjusting or something? I'm used to it, so it's fine.

[It's fine enough, really. Nothing that he wants the Boss to worry about, even if... it would be nice having his help with this particular problem again. Especially with...

It's not as if he's disregarding any potential causes for the difference. Likewise, it's not as if he's ignoring anything he would rather not think about.]

... Sometimes I'm out for about a whole week, though. Um... I guess it's harder to snap out of it on my own, huh?

[It's not as if Vinegar Doppio is used to rationalizing away things that would set off alarms in anybody else's head.]

[Every sentence is somehow a little worse.

But, for obvious reasons, this is something he'll have to investigate on his own. He could keep an eye on Doppio - shadow him, even. Is he still working at that clinic? In that case, maybe not. No. He could call him. Every hour, when he's out. Twice an hour. And if he ever doesn't answer Diavolo will know to immediately come to his aid or - maybe stay far away, depending on the circumstances of these... blackouts.

There's no reason it couldn't be the last theory he posited. This doesn't have to mean anything. This could all be so neatly wrapped up if it turns out Doppio has, by chance, spontaneously developed some sort of fainting disorder. Yes. And someone is anonymously tending to him while he's comatose for a week at a time.]

I can keep an eye on you now. Not... to the same extent I used to, with my power and... influence gone.

[Maybe he could talk Doppio into just... staying home all the time? But, no, if he stays and it happens again there's no guarantee he could get himself to safety fast enough. And, besides, someone has to do the shopping.

What can he possibly ask that won't arouse any suspicion? He's not sure there's a single thing he can ask without first broaching the subject that actually, losing consciousness on the regular is not remotely normal. And the conversation that'd result from that... is a conversation that is never happening. Especially not now that everything between them is a distant memory.

This could be something akin to lycanthropy - there are werewolves here, aren't there? He could be transforming into a beast and forgetting the details and - Diavolo hopes - maybe even forgetting himself in the process? And wasn't there something about the fog? Maybe this is normal. Maybe this happens to everyone. But he can't press Doppio for dates and check them against a record of the weather - it's doubtful he'd remember any of them.

It really is for the best to just pretend that this is business as usual.]

I do worry that someone could be taking advantage of the time you're out. Have you made anyone else aware of your condition?

[He... has to think about that one. How many people did he actually tell? The answer has to be "more than he realises," because he has had to reassure too many people that this is normal. That, he remembers. Maybe it only feels like nobody really knows because... nobody really knows him. Not like the Boss does.]

Um, a few people know. They usually don't... [take it... well...] Oh, Dr. Hawkeye knows! I kind of had to tell him, since it was making me miss work.

[There shouldn't be any dread creeping up his throat. There's no good reason for it, knowing what he knows.]

He said I should get tested, but I said no. [He laughs, and the sound feels very small somehow, even in this room with only the two of them.] He's from the past, so I'm pretty sure his medical know-how's kind of outdated. I told him it was no big deal and he dropped it, though.

Hm. Best to keep an eye on him, then. If word of this has spread to the rest of your coworkers...

[He allows himself to trail off there, letting the obvious go unsaid, more a warning than a threat. The more they talk about this topic the more uncomfortable Diavolo becomes with it. Chasing this train of thought is a form of hope to cling to, a chance that this situation isn't as complex as he fears it is underneath. Oh, he'd be willing to pin all of his problems on Giorno Giovanna - an underhanded tactic like this suits the person who joined Passione under false pretense only to dismantle it from the inside out. And it's clear whatever drove him to do that is still present. The permanence of the Stand attack on Diavolo proves that victory alone wasn't enough to satisfy him.

...but the fact remains that Doppio is still blacking out, and, from the sounds of it, the symptoms and the feelings must be similar, even identical, to the ones he's used to, with no explanation for why in sight.

And Diavolo is here, head full of muddled and disorganized thoughts, unable to follow any of them to an answer.]

... Yeah, I guess so.

[Doppio isn't sure why this is such a concern, given that, as established, he hasn't been experiencing anything out of the ordinary... but the Boss did just mention the possibility that people might take advantage of it, and he must know what he's saying. It's true enough that, as far as he knows, Giorno still works at the clinic - Doppio doesn't want to imagine what might happen if he learned about such a glaring weakness.

That said, for now?]

But... Boss, we need to get back on track! What are we going to do about the bastard who did this to you? Do you need me to start asking questions?

Eager to get back to work, Doppio?

[Even with how muddled things are in his head, there's a shred of comfort to be found in the familiarity of Doppio's enthusiasm. If he closes his eyes and just listens to the sound of Doppio's voice, perhaps he can manage to convince himself that there's still something right left in the world.

The time they'd spent in each other's presence is mostly a blur in Diavolo's mind. Aside from Doppio's reports (which he'd only half-listened to in his confidence that this would all end at any moment) and the impulsive... embarrassment at the seashore, they'd engaged in nothing remotely resembling their usual sort of business. If the circumstances of everything weren't so bizarre, he might have considered a mission like this a return to normalcy.

As it is... he's not sure how much he wants to encourage Doppio.]

It's what I'm here for!

[This time, if Doppio's answer comes too quickly, it's not from denial but from the opposite. "Eager" feels like an understatement, when this is a role he slips into as easily as if he'd never left it behind.

(Because he hasn't, really; he's been in Ryslig for over a year, but even so, again and again, his thoughts drift back to Naples, to train trips and hotel stays and late night calls. He's missed this. He's missed--)

But things have changed, and he can't forget that. His life was cut short, but the Boss experienced the worst fate imaginable. It's only understandable if he's not ready to dive back into... their usual business quite yet. Not even for something as crucial as dealing with the bastard who did this to him.]

So... Whenever you want me to make a move... Whenever you think the right time is... I'll do it, Boss. You just have to say the word.

[He's missed this so much. He's missed him so, so much.]

You enjoyed it that much...

[He sounds briefly... amused? But at some point the growing feeling of comfort within Diavolo breaks down. Doppio's eagerness in the face of these disconcerting circumstances is reassuring, but as Diavolo's thoughts turn to what their lives used to be, he feels... empty.]

You understand I have... nothing left to offer you. Everything I had, everything we'd tirelessly worked for... is all gone. If you are out there, taking action on my behalf, I can't... watch over you like before. I can't lend you my powers, I have no... I'm not...

[Speaking gets harder as he progresses. He presses on, desperate to get to some sort of point though he's not entirely sure which point he's even trying to make.]

It won't... it can't ever be like it was. I'm already... known, I can't keep myself secret, they already know my face - he'd...

[By the time he trails off he's nearly mumbling his words together, gripping the cup in his hand so hard it threatens to break.]

[It... hurts. ~~Almost as much as much as the end did? Even more than the end did? Maybe it's pointless, trying to quantify it.~~ It hurts, it truly does, to see the Boss like this. It tests Doppio's respectful boundaries more than anything else, makes him wish so strongly that he could-- do something that he can hardly deny it and so he has to try even harder not to think about it.]

That's okay, Boss.

[It's ridiculous. He can't hug the Boss.]

You'll get other powers. I'll... I still can't do a lot, even like this, but I'll be by your side anyway. And...

[He gulps. It's not easy at all to really explain how he feels; of the two people in this room, he's not the one with a gift for words.]

Maybe... Maybe it can't be just like it was before, and that's okay. But even if it's something else, I know you can make it just as good! Or even better!

[The problem with the Boss's identity being far more public than ever is... not something Doppio knows how to work around. Not just yet. Hopefully he won't mind him glossing over it. But...]

I've kept an eye on the underworld this whole time, Boss. ... I've been waiting for you.

[Diavolo sighs deeply at Doppio's mention of power. Words are cheap - reassurance can do little to soothe him when he is stripped so thoroughly of everything he once had. Everything he once was is gone, all burned away piece by piece, death by miserable death, leaving him lost and unable to fight back. How can he possibly rebuild himself from the ashes when he was never meant to fall in the first place?]

If only I should be so lucky... I... I've...

[He murmurs again, a mournful protest against Doppio's confidence, and just as before, the words catch in his throat.

"That's okay," Doppio says for the second time, and as hollow as words are, they keep coming. Incessant. Unprovoked. Meant to soothe, and for a moment Diavolo wonders if he can lean into his words and let them wash over him, fooling his weary mind into believing for a moment that they have any weight or meaning behind them.

He can't.]

You waited for me. [He echoes the words softly, trying to still his breathing. This conversation has twisted so far from what he'd come here for.] Even though... surely you had no way of knowing that I'd ever arrive here. One would assume your employment was terminated with... with your death. But you waited for me...

[He trails off there, musing aloud.]

[He feels, not for the first time, the weight of his heart in his chest. Its beat is gone, but he can't forget it's there when it aches like this.

Is this the first time they've called it what it is, his death? Is this the first time the Boss acknowledged it?

Doppio can't blame him for it; he's been through so much. He's experienced so much death that surely, what happened to Doppio barely qualifies at this point. He more or less just slipped away, peacefully but so, so heartbreakingly lonely--

But that's why he had to wait.]

I... I knew...

[No. That's a lie, isn't it? How could he know? But the truth is...

Doppio stares down at his fidgeting fingers and speaks quietly, as if fearing the consequences for admitting such a thing:]

... I really wanted to hear you again.

[Diavolo lets out a small sigh at the words.]

...and you got your wish, and more than that. I am here, in the flesh.

And I... I wish this reunion hadn't taken so long to occur. The first time - after I left - I... couldn't even begin to guess how long I'd - ...

...The second time... I'd kept you waiting for far longer than I ever should have. [Holed up, curled up, insides swirling with anger and regret and disgust and fear. And even now he is uneasy and confused and so very afraid that his longing for a return to the normalcy of their lives will send him barreling straight into another round of poor choices. Even after over a month here he can scarcely imagine picking up his pieces and rebuilding the empire they'd created. It's a distant dream now.

If he had an ounce of sense or self-preservation he would leave again, staying far away until he determined what exactly is wrong with Doppio... but he's spent far too much time alone with his own thoughts to consider that. He just wants peace, and to rest, and to deal with his problems as they arise instead of being forced to be proactive about every single one.]

[The first time. Doppio would really rather not hear about that. If the Boss is here now, can't they just... forget about it? The Boss never meant to leave him behind for good. It's not his fault that the traitors did the impossible, or that Doppio was powerless to help.

The second time...

Doppio was afraid, but it doesn't matter anymore. He's here now.]

I get it. You were... just trying to stay safe, right? I can't blame you, if you really thought I might hurt you. I'm-- [Doppio smiles, and his eyes dart dangerously close to the Boss's face; he manages to keep them down at the last moment.] ... glad we cleared that up, though!

[Cleared that up... It's almost bitterly funny how wrong Doppio is. Diavolo was so confident in his assumptions the night of the attack. Any slight wavering in his conviction could be chalked up entirely to baseless wishful thinking. But the more he learns, the more his confidence crumbles, and all that's left in its wake is confusion and concern.

If only he could trust Doppio fully. But, he supposes, it's not trust that he lacks. Doppio the only one he can trust, and he's always understood the importance of their work. Even now he catches Doppio's eyes darting away from his face, even here when it doesn't matter, even though he'd never once sat and drilled the necessity of even Doppio averting his gaze from his face for the sake of his continued secrecy. Why waste time entertaining thoughts of the impossible when there's so much left to accomplish? It's a testament to his undying loyalty.

But... this split. Any lies Doppio ever told him before, insignificant as they were, were things he could refute with the knowledge that came with their unbroken connection. Here he cannot trail behind Doppio, shadowing him everywhere he goes, observing every action unseen. Going out was enough of an ordeal before...]

We still have plenty of work to do before this is cleared up, my Doppio. I trust you're as eager to solve this mystery as I am.

Right! You're absolutely right, Boss!

[Of course the matter isn't resolved yet - they still have to find the real culprit, and then they have to determine the consequences for what the culprit did. Under that lens, of course they're still getting started. But...

Doppio is just glad the Boss knows it wasn't him now. The thought that Doppio might ever hurt him... He refuses to even entertain it.

As long as that is laid to rest, he can breathe a sigh of relief.]

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doppio is being cute (in a gangster kinda way) and im here like (flips switch) breakdown breakdown

cries

i genuinely dont know why this took 10 days

IT HAPPENS SOMETIMES don't worry

LATE AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! too distracted by babby mode

patpat!!!

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