[ 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. ]
[The removal of Iggy's spine was painless, and that prevents him from fully comprehending how much the regrowth will hurt.
As has happened before, Iggy's soul nearly slips out of his body to escape the agony. But the exquisite horror of it is something Iggy wants, and so he fights to stay with it.
Tears are streaming down his face and his body is trembling by the time Zephir is done.
[ Zephir acts as though they've done something completely banal, meeting Iggy's gaze with serenity. Caressing his face, staining Death's favorite with his own blood, Zephir searches his features in the quiet. ]
Do you know how lucky you are? [ He stops caressing him, cups his cheek instead. ] A part of you is with him, now. Forever.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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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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As has happened before, Iggy's soul nearly slips out of his body to escape the agony. But the exquisite horror of it is something Iggy wants, and so he fights to stay with it.
Tears are streaming down his face and his body is trembling by the time Zephir is done.
He turns, wet eyes filled with adoration.]
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Do you know how lucky you are? [ He stops caressing him, cups his cheek instead. ] A part of you is with him, now. Forever.
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I am very lucky.
I don't deserve it. But I'm thankful. For both of you.
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[ No correction of any sort, no mirroring his gratitude, because Iggy isn't talking to a friend. Zephir presses a kiss to his forehead. ]
Anything else?
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[Iggy tiptoes up to place a kiss softly on Zephir's lips. It's perfectly chaste, a gesture of love and not lust.]
Thank you.
[Sinking back down, he smiles.]
We should see each other again soon.
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Whenever you want. I'll help you find me.