entrancelogs | you're not the one but you're the only one

Entry tags:

you're not the one but you're the only one

Who: Vexen

cyrophilia and Mirror!Saix [

pacifydivine]
Where Mirrorside.
When: Simultaneously with the events of this post.
Rating: R-13 for slight gore, I guess~
Summary: Vexen, in a minor crisis on the other side of the mirrors, is just in time to see Saix run into one of his own-- but the berserker's mirror think's otherwise. Comment tags.
the Story:

[It had happened by chance-- walking past a mirror in the hallway, Vexen had gotten a glimpse of a--fight? He wasn't sure, but there had been enough blood to make him yank Kobato harshly down a different corridor, before she could see it. But one important detail had mattered:

It was on the other side of the mirrors.

That led him to wonder, then, if anyone on the mansion's real side could see them from where they were, trapped on the reverse of the glass. He'd tried searching for a hallway with people in it, people who might chance a look at the glass-- but either they weren't looking, or they failed to notice.

He tried writing on the glass with a half-dried out pen he found in his pocket... only to find, once they'd circled around, that someone else had wiped the letters off.

It didn't take them long to find out what.

He winces, gripping his side with a shaky hand. The mirror-- Maxwell Carrigan, he won't be forgetting that soon-- obviously hadn't aimed to kill, if the fact that he was still breathing was any indication. He'd shot Vexen in the side, and in the arm, effectively disabling him from casting anything useful (though not before he'd gotten off a good spell or two).

At least Kobato ran when he'd told her to. He hopes the man didn't chase after her. Now, unfortunately, Saix isn't having the sense to do the same.

He'd used his own blood to write that one, morbid, but it works. Where he's curled up on the floor, though, it's hardly any help. Damn idiot.

He raises his hand, ready to write again.]

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[After his first encounter with the real Vexen and Kobato, Saix's mirror had lain low, staying out of the way. He had no interest in fighting where it wasn't necessary, and he had no interest in hounding Vexen, even if he did have an interest in Vexen. He had no reason to inflict his presence on any of the others.

He's watched through the mirrors plenty of times before, makes a habit of it even, especially where his own original is concerned. He'd been looking for him lately, hoping that he wasn't going to do something stupid about Beast Boy's situation, but also hoping that he would actually do something. Anything. It's a sick sort of pragmatism that leaves friends to suffer, especially at the hands of the mirrorside's Vexen, simply because the situation is personally risky, but it was the sort of pragmatism he could see the real Saix having.

The real Saix wasn't one for self sacrifice, after all.

The scent of blood in his nostrils suggests there is someone in need of help nearby, and he follows in the direction he'd been heading, eyes open for anyone injured. It wouldn't matter much to this Saix whether it was a mirror, or one of the real people that was hurt; someone was hurt, and he was in the vicinity.

The curled figure by one of the mirrors catches his attention easily enough, along with what they're doing. It doesn't take much to rush over, and catch the hand before it passes on another message, clearing away what was already written with the other.]

I can't allow you to do that.

[It's soft and apologetic, and then the view beyond the mirror catches his attention.

It wasn't what he'd hoped to see when he found his opposite. Perhaps the real Saix was a more ready fighter, but against Kobato his chances were slim. He'd have done better to run, not that his pride would have allowed it regardless.

That idiot.]

[If he had the energy to, Vexen might smack the mirror's hand out of his way-- and push him back, and kick him away, or something-- but as it stands, all he can do is snarl weakly and struggle to push himself up to his feet. His knees buckle before he can get there, and a blood-stained palm slams against the glass in an effort to catch his weight, his other arm dangling uselessly.

Vexen doesn't look very well. Among other things, someone's been slamming his head against something hard enough to make the skin over one eye burst and bleed, gumming that eye shut with blood-- and the remaining open eye glares at the mirror through a haze of exhaustion and pain.

The scientist hasn't been sleeping very well on this side, for obvious reasons. His counterpart, though he doesn't know it, hasn't been sleeping at all.]

Help him.

[His voice comes out rough, and grating, jerking his chin at the berserker preparing for a fight on the other side.]

He's you, or a version of you, isn't he? Don't you care?

[Saix, the one native to this side of the mirrors, reacts to Vexen's condition with concern. He doesn't know who Vexen has crossed, not that he needs to have crossed anyone, but they've been very thorough about making a mess of him.

The mirror steps closer to Vexen, trying to help him stand without aggravating any further injuries. Falling over now would only make his condition that little bit worse. Helping him without getting too close, though, that's rather more difficult.

He frowns at what Vexen says, with genuine sorrow. He no more wants to see his other self be mangled and given over to the insane version of Vexen than he wants to experience it for himself.]

I can't help him.

[He looks through the mirror again, watching himself square off and knowing that he should stop it, that he would, if his hands weren't tied on that matter. It wasn't an easy situation to solve anyway, even if he could.]

[Vexen stops, then turns to the mirror-- and stares.

There's something on the other side, something that looks enough like ... no. It can't be, can it? He'd warned Saix off because laughter like that couldn't have come from anything sane, but his mind doesn't want to acknowledge the warped, bloody figure on the other side of the glass.]

What is that?

[The way his voice cracks in the middle of the question suggests he doesn't entirely want to know the answer.]

[Saix's mirror watches without the impassive calm of his original. His discomfort and unease with the situation is etched on his face.

He knows that Vexen won't wish to know the answer once he does. The only thing that could be worse for him would be seeing what his own reflection does, although in a roundabout way, he was seeing that too.

He sighs quietly, closing his eyes against the vision and taking the moment to gather himself to give the answer. When he does, it's barely above a whisper.]

That is Kobato's reflection.

[He hopes, he hopes very much, that Vexen won't ask what happened to her.]

[Despite his own injuries, despite the pain throbbing through his body-- Vexen can't quite tear his gaze away. He's even distracted enough that Saix might be able to actually touch him, now, and he wouldn't be pushed away.

Sound through the mirrors isn't as sharp as being on the same side, but he can hear the voices quite clearly. The question Saix's mirror doesn't want him to ask blurts out--]

What happened to-- ghhk--

[...Only to be interrupted when he bends, retching dryly. Enough blood has soaked into his clothes-- plain shirt and linen pants, not the bulk of the Organization coat-- to make him dizzy.]

[Saix's mirror tears his attention away from the fight and to Vexen, who was in no fit state to be asking any questions right now and in much more need of aid than the mirror's counterpart.

He catches his arm around him, supporting him so that he doesn't collapse - he does look like he might - and speaks to him just very slightly firmly.]

Don't worry about that now.

[Not that this Saix wishes to answer, even if Vexen will insist on worrying about it now.]

You shouldn't be standing. Come on.

[Get him somewhere he can rest and recover, somewhere safe for him to be. Somewhere, most importantly, that wasn't here.

He'd have to find the real Kobato, too. He hopes she's all right, wherever she's gone.

He hopes she isn't watching what her opposite is doing right now.]

[Even as he's pulled away-- entirely unable to resist, thanks to his injuries and fatigue-- Vexen shakes his head in denial, trying to pull himself free. Concern for the real Kobato seems to occur to him at the same time it does to the mirror, because his grip on the other man (where he's tried to grab Saix to yank him off him, only to end up practically hanging off his arm) tightens.]

If-- that's her mirror-- where--?

[Another violent cough, as his insides rebel at the nausea being so injured is inflicting on him.]

Got to-- find her. That-- Colonel? Maxwell? He might--

[Saix's mirror drags Vexen away from the carnage in view, but safely on the other side of a pane of glass. He feels drawn to the fight in the same way that normal people are drawn to car crashes and other disasters. There's something morbid, sickening, and compulsive about watching yourself be beaten down. The desire to stop it is great.

Not as great as the urge to help Vexen, and make sure he was safe. He frowns, securing his hold. It would be easier if he could pick Vexen up, and cradle him to somewhere safe, but that might be crossing lines. Vexen doesn't seem to want his help as it is, although he's in no state to refuse.]

I'll find her. I promise. But I have to get you somewhere safe first.

[If Maxwell, if anyone else, came to encounter Vexen in his current state, he'd have no chance, and between Vexen, and the Saix fighting on the other side of that mirror right now, Vexen was the one in the most danger.]

[Blood's spread over Vexen's side; even if the other man's taking care to grip him where he's uninjured, and best able to help Saix support him... it's a little hard to get a grip where his fingers won't get slippery with blood.

He's bleeding all over Saix. Why does this feel so familiar?

Trying to push away Saix would probably be more of a pain now than Vexen cares to deal with, so he tolerates the closeness, the still-familiar smell (fresh and musky, not the faded traces on the clothes the closet's generosity hasn't seen fit to take away) he can just pick up under the copper tang of his own blood. He squeezes his eyes shut, then opens the one that isn't covered with blood.]

Find her. Promise.

[He doesn't care if he dies on this side of the mirror. He has little enough to lose, these days... and one of those things is Kobato.

He doesn't want her to disappear. ]

[Saix's concern grows exponentially. Vexen is bleeding far too much, has already lost enough blood that he can ill afford to loose more. That's the only thing that bothers him about getting covered in blood now; that it's Vexen's.

It aches as well that he worries so much for Kobato. Vexen knows what will happen if he dies here, and still she's a larger concern to him than his own welfare. Saix can understand, but it still aches a little. She shouldn't be his only concern.]

Cross my heart.

[The most precious, and the most fundamental difference between this Saix and his counterpart, the most sincere promise he can make. He will find her. He couldn't let her be hurt here, not the real one, anyway.]

Do you mind if I carry you? It will be quicker.

[The less Vexen will bleed, the less time Kobato will be all alone here. Although Vexen may not be able to endure being quite that close.]

You--!

[There's a pause as Vexen-- even now, even here where (to the best of his knowledge) he won't be coming back if he dies-- wrestles with the decision of whether or not he should listen to his pride or his practicality.

He also just wants to hit Saix for even mentioning that, that difference between the Saix he knew and the Saix that is, which this mirror posseses. He has no right. He has no right to bring that up so casually, not when he knows--

Or does he? Vexen realizes he has no idea-- no idea at all, what to expect from this mirror, which is everything the real Saix isn't. And, in some ways, everything the real Saix was

All that thought takes an instant. When he speaks again, he doesn't waste time with words.]

Fine.

[He sags against the other man, not as heavy as he could be despite his height, despite the fact that he really isn't supporting his own weight anymore.]

[The mirror hadn't quite expected the burst of anger, short lived as it was. The righteous indignation that had come with those words of utter sincerity.

It wasn't the reaction anyone would expect, really, under the circumstances. Vexen has even more hang-ups than he shows.]

I'm sorry.

[It's just the most important thing he has. He hadn't meant to rub anything in.

Apologising comes easily to this Saix, and it's sincere rather than mere placating words said out of dishonesty and trickery. He can regret, and there's a lot he regrets. Every time his opposite abuses or hurts someone, it's the mirror that regrets it, regrets not being able to stop him.

Regrets only being a mirror, instead of the real thing.

With Vexen's surrender of his weight into Saix's care, Saix nods, taking him in both arms and picking him up. He's considerably stronger than someone of his stature looks, but that went with the territory.]

I'll take you somewhere safe, and then bring Kobato to you.

... Nnh.

[That's as close to assent as Vexen will get. The scientist shuts his eyes as he's lifted, hoping that if he's resigned to feel, at least he won't be resigned to see. The aggression isn't warranted, it really isn't, but he no longer has the time to spare, to risk being vulnerable.

He remembers, despite the haze of pain, Arland boasting on the networks about finding a way out-- stupid, stupid; that boy's just made himself the target for every damn mirror on this side of the mansion, he should help--]

If-- you have potions-- bring them.

[The words come out slow and labored, but at least he doesn't exert effort being on his feet. Now, he can press his uninjured arm to his side, the other dangling uselessly, to try and stem the flow.

There's something else he should say. Instead, he stays quiet at last, breathing unsteadily with eyes shut.]

[Saix's mirror carries Vexen away, faster now that they aren't travelling at the pace Vexen can manage. The weakness worries him, the whole situation worries him.

He looks at Vexen with caring concern, doing his best to hold Vexen as securely as possible without hurting him further. He's much lighter than he'd expected, and much skinnier in his arms.

He seems so helpless.]

I will. Stop talking, please.

[The real Saix had said the same thing, much less politely, the last time Vexen was in horrific pain. Some thing don't really change.

A sound sends a shudder down his spine, and the icy chill of fear and dread running through him. It's not a sound wishes to hear, and yet....

Kobato's scream. That could be either good, or very, very, very bad.]

[Whichever one it is, the reaction from the man in the mirror's arms is anything but good. Though he's shut his eyes in a vain attempt to calm down and try to focus on conserving his energy, it's almost immediately undone when he hears that scream-- it sounds so real, and how would he know any different?]

KOBATO--!

[He's abruptly struggling in Saix's grip, too dazed to think that he might not be hearing the real thing at all. But he knows that voice, however faint or distorted it might be (and it doesn't occur to him for a moment that the real Kobato would never be able to scream so loudly or harshly.]

[Saix's reflection frowns, holding Vexen as best he can despite the struggling. He's not a small man, and carrying him when he's covered in blood isn't the easiest task to begin with.]

Vexen, you'll-

[He'll hurt himself, or at least hurt himself worse.

He knows, he understands why Vexen has reacted that way. The fibre of this Saix's being begs for him to turn back, to run and follow the noise, to help her.]

It's not her. It's the one he's fighting.

[He hopes. He can't be entirely sure, but even if it isn't a guaranteed truth, it's what he'll tell Vexen right now. It was too loud, too sharp to be the real one.

He hopes. Some of the mirrors here might relish trying to bring that kind of noise out of someone like Kobato.]

But--!

[Vexen flinches when another cry echoes down the hall-- softer now, not as loud as that one, but the sounds are steadily taking on an inhuman pitch. It's not Kobato, then. But for a moment--

He's restarted the sluggish drip of blood from his wounds, and winces, subsiding. He'll have to see if his arm is broken or just feels like it; either way, he'll not be getting around at full mobility for a while.]

What do you... know about Saix?

[The real one, presumably. It's an odd time to ask, but perhaps he can't think of a better distraction from the pain.]

[The steady slip of the noise into the realms of the subhuman is a comfort, at least. If he listens enough, he can recognise the cries and yells of his own original mingled with them, quieter because they weren't amplified like that Kobato's voice was.

He always had been a noisy fighter.

He looks down at Vexen, soft concern on his face, and adjusts his grip very slightly to be more comfortable after that struggling.]

What do you want to know?

[The Saix he was counterpart to had a million secrets. As his reflection, and by nature his opposite, this version felt no compulsion to keep those secrets. Especially when doing so might hurt people.]

[Keeping his eyes shut is easier than dealing with the shifting ceiling, so Vexen does that, doing his best to ignore the noises of fighting he can hear even as the mirror's quicker steps leave them behind.]

What was he, before...?

[He doesn't mean to ask something so private, but it's the first question that slips out; he needs to have something that makes him feel he has control over the other man, even if it's something as jealously guarded as that. Flinching at his own tactlessnes, he pauses before deciding on another question--]

--and why won't he-- or you-- leave me alone?

[The mirror looks down at Vexen briefly before continuing to pay attention to where he's going. The last thing either of them need right now is to run into another one of the mirrors, especially one of the less friendly ones.

He sighs very softly at the question. The one he'd expected to be asked was what the real Saix's intentions were. He acted as though he was, if not nice, at least civil, but the difference in his mirror would give cause to suspect otherwise.

He can't exactly blame Vexen, though, for wanting to know something like that. It was something the real Saix never spoke of, if he could help it.]

Property. Not a slave, exactly, but still property. He belonged to the temple, and they trained him as an ascetic.

[This Saix doesn't mind saying it. The real Saix would rather not have that known.
There was supposed to be no escape. Saix had managed it, just, but he'd have rather managed it with his heart.

The second question, however, brings on a frown. It's a difficult one to answer, and requires introspection.]

He's drawn to you because you've helped him, and because you're drawn to him. He's used to having a master, even though he doesn't wish for one any more, and you're inadvertently filling that role for him.

[If the real Saix has power over Vexen, psychological power, whether it comes in the form of making him lose his temper, or having the ability to utterly break him, then Saix won't fall into the habit of treating Vexen as a master due to that weakness. So goes the theory, at least, and it works to an extent.

It's easy, when you have no heart.]

As for me....

[He very barely lets his eyes flicker to Vexen in his arms, and smiles softly.]

I feel as though I should make up for his cruelties.

So-- nnggh- glad you're generous.

[Vexen makes a small, annoyed sound at the back of his throat. It always comes down to these sorts of situations, doesn't it? He has no idea what it is he's doing to register as anyone's master; if anything, the copious amounts of disrespect he'd been showered with in Castle Oblivion (and his ignominious death) are ample signs of his deficiencies.

He can pretend it's half-delirium that's making him ask all this. It might even be true; who knows what he'll remember when he's properly conscious?

The next thing he asks is spoken quietly.]

What is... he really after?

[He doesn't need to express his question in words to say it all: he looks at Saix with plain, uncomplicated suspicion, clouded only by the haze of pain threatening to take him under.]

[Saix's mirror looks very softly amused at the answer. He doubted that there was any real gratitude behind it, given who he looked like, who he was really.

It's beyond his control, but he's not the type to maintain a grudge due to that. When someone was pestered and hounded, it was only natural they'd prefer to avoid the cause of their problems, and anything that looked like them.

The next question has the mirror shaking his head, however, in gentle, slight movements.]

His heart, his freedom, and a way, any way, to claim them both.

[A soft frown as the mirror considers the fact of things.]

He is only in this for his own benefit, but he won't destroy something, or someone, if it's useful to him. You and Kobato included. He won't intend to, at least.

[Whether it will happen without the intention being there is another matter. It looked as though it could.

Hopefully, answering the questions would redress the balance.]

You can trust him with your safety, but don't trust him with your heart.

[It's a quiet plea, because this Saix couldn't bear to see Vexen broken by his original.]

[There's nothing in what the mirror says that surprises the scientist very much-- but his last words make Vexen freeze completely, and for a moment he looks like he might run again.

When he finally speaks, his words are flat-- not from lack of emotion, but too much of it.]

I'll keep... that in mind.

[...It seems to be all he can say, really. What else can he add? Hearts are stupid things, and he's having difficulty reconciling the fact that Saix isn't the one he's come to know with the sharp recognition making his chest thrum every time he's near. Even the mirror's causing it-- though he's far more understandable, given how much closer his behavior approximates the former Saix's.

[The mirror version frowns sympathetically at Vexen's frozen reaction.

He understands, he really does. He knows about the relationship Vexen had previously had with another Saix, it was difficult not to when people on this side remembered a Saix that was a fawning puppy. How hard it had to be to look at someone with the face, and voice, and smell of someone you'd loved, and know that they weren't that person any more.

Worse, that they were much more likely to use you than love you.]

Don't mention it.

[He watches Vexen slip into unconsciousness, and then continues on his way. He'll clean as much of the blood away as he can, too. He wouldn't want Kobato to panic when he found her.]

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you're not the one but you're the only one

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