[ Zephir doesn't reply again. As soon as Iggy starts his search, a different ladybird will fly ahead of him, leading the way. The door is open to a room already full of plants; a small collection claims its space by one of the windows, each plant unique and unidentifiable, for now.
[ The voice comes from the bathroom door separating this side of the room from the other, unoccupied half. Zephir is, once again, naked, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe. He gestures at the strange plants with his head, tipping his chin. ]
[ Quiet until he's standing behind Iggy, Zephir leans down to rest his chin on his shoulder, and wraps him in an embrace with one finger pressed against his middle, just over the stomach. ]
[ Lifting the hand away from Iggy's front, he points at one of the plants. An unusual, pale color, sinuous and elegant. If Iggy ever imagined himself as flora, it should be close to what they're looking at now. ]
[ He drops his hand and slips away, finding his cigarettes and a lighter on a small table by one of the windows. He lights one cigarette up, takes the first drag. ]
[ After the first drag, Zephir exhales the smoke upward, eyes on Iggy, quiet and contemplative. Part of him wishes he'd been there, part of him enjoys that he wasn't. Life and Death may overindulge, but they consciously deny themselves, too. A game with no rules, no start or end, no winning or losing. ]
I have good news for you, love, [ Grinning, he uses his cigarette again, lips curled at the corners. Out comes smoke. ] He wants you to have your life, too. You'd know if he didn't.
[ If that is his idea of offering comfort, he might need to rethink the strategy. ]
[ He brushes Iggy's hair aside, feeling the back of his neck under his palm, sliding the hand downward over his shirt next. He stops at the hem, lifting it and any other layers that might be between him and Iggy's body upward to expose his back. ]
Hold it.
[ His clothes, in place, so Zephir can search for Sully's magic... And there it is. His motions rest where Death interfered with this mortal, lids dropping like warmth just took over his body and he needs a moment to bask in it. Here he'd promised Iggy wasn't meant to be used as a love letter this time, and here he is, quietly treating him like one anyway. Opening his eyes again, he looks over Iggy's shoulder. ]
You know what comes next, don't you.
[ Flat enough to have humor. What comes next is opening this body up for the nth time. ]
[ Said a couple of seconds before he manipulates Iggy's flesh to split it apart, a perfect line cut with his finger. There's blood, but anything that might have been pulled by gravity remains in place — a job partly done by Sully, who left Iggy horribly empty, kept him alive only through bending his and Life's rules, as they often do. ]
This is going to be a different kind of pain, love.
[ Sully spared him from that — suffering. Zephir also could, if he wanted to. If he was actually nice.
The process of healing through his hands is like a reversal of time: everything Iggy's body went through when the bones were taken happens in reverse, bones reemerging and setting into place out of seemingly nothing, reattached to this body with the same shape and density of the parts Death took away. Any squirming, noises or other reactions to it are promptly ignored; once it's started, it doesn't end until Zephir is done, smoking the last breath from his cigarette between bloody fingers. He puts it away on the table, leaves it there so he can seal up Iggy's back. ]
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Did my other half like your gift?
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now?
yes. he took more than I thought he would, and I was scared.
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Search for my room. I'll make sure you find me.
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OK.
I'm on my way.
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Zephir isn't there. ]
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He lets himself into the room and looks around, surprised to be alone. Cautiously, he tiptoes toward the plants to examine them.
When he speaks his voice is barely above a whisper.]
Hello?
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[ The voice comes from the bathroom door separating this side of the room from the other, unoccupied half. Zephir is, once again, naked, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe. He gestures at the strange plants with his head, tipping his chin. ]
Do you know what those are?
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I. Sorry. No, no I don't know what they are. But they're lovely.
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[ He leans away from the doorframe, starts to walk towards him. ]
One of them is you.
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[Soft. Awed. Iggy looks to the plants, staring at each one carefully as he tries to figure out which grew from him.]
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The one you kept here.
[ Until Sully ripped it out. ]
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[This should be weird. But Iggy's just proud.]
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[ Lifting the hand away from Iggy's front, he points at one of the plants. An unusual, pale color, sinuous and elegant. If Iggy ever imagined himself as flora, it should be close to what they're looking at now. ]
It's his favorite.
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Iggy's chest floods with warmth.]
Is it?
Oh! Uhm. He took part of my spine. It had plants in it.
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[ He drops his hand and slips away, finding his cigarettes and a lighter on a small table by one of the windows. He lights one cigarette up, takes the first drag. ]
What did you think?
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[No sense lying about it, or pretending to be brave.]
Not at first. At first I thought it was nice. It was only when I saw it... yeah. Seeing it. That makes it real.
Can you fix me? Or will I just have to survive on his magic?
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I can fix it.
[ Smoking again, smile in his eyes. ]
Is he nicer than me?
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No. I think maybe a little gentle with me because I'm his. But that's all.
Am I being ungrateful?
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Are you?
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I offered him part of me. But I feel a little bad that I'm like... I still want my life. I like being able to move.
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[ If that is his idea of offering comfort, he might need to rethink the strategy. ]
Come here, then. Let me see.
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[Iggy does as he's bid, smiling. Life isn't kind. But it's beautiful.
He turns so his back is to Zephir.]
I don't regret any of it.
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[ He brushes Iggy's hair aside, feeling the back of his neck under his palm, sliding the hand downward over his shirt next. He stops at the hem, lifting it and any other layers that might be between him and Iggy's body upward to expose his back. ]
Hold it.
[ His clothes, in place, so Zephir can search for Sully's magic... And there it is. His motions rest where Death interfered with this mortal, lids dropping like warmth just took over his body and he needs a moment to bask in it. Here he'd promised Iggy wasn't meant to be used as a love letter this time, and here he is, quietly treating him like one anyway. Opening his eyes again, he looks over Iggy's shoulder. ]
You know what comes next, don't you.
[ Flat enough to have humor. What comes next is opening this body up for the nth time. ]
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Yes.
I can take it.
...I want it.
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[ Said a couple of seconds before he manipulates Iggy's flesh to split it apart, a perfect line cut with his finger. There's blood, but anything that might have been pulled by gravity remains in place — a job partly done by Sully, who left Iggy horribly empty, kept him alive only through bending his and Life's rules, as they often do. ]
This is going to be a different kind of pain, love.
[ Sully spared him from that — suffering. Zephir also could, if he wanted to. If he was actually nice.
The process of healing through his hands is like a reversal of time: everything Iggy's body went through when the bones were taken happens in reverse, bones reemerging and setting into place out of seemingly nothing, reattached to this body with the same shape and density of the parts Death took away. Any squirming, noises or other reactions to it are promptly ignored; once it's started, it doesn't end until Zephir is done, smoking the last breath from his cigarette between bloody fingers. He puts it away on the table, leaves it there so he can seal up Iggy's back. ]
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