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[When he had finally passed out Saturday night, he had told himself that he would keep going. He would free the others. If just for Light's sake, he could not allow himself to die.

Less then three hours of fitful sleep later he had woken up screaming, scrambling to the bathroom to upend the pumpkin soup Jane had given him- and the moment he saw his own glassy red eyes in the mirror he had done the first thing that came to mind- attack. Attack and kill, snuff out the agony in his belly by smashing his fist against the glass over and over.

Corrin was a traitor. Leo fled, Camilla was falling into despair under the weight of her own grief. His father was mad, the country falling apart around him. Elise was dead by his own blessed blade.

Light was gone. The only connecting thread, in the end, was him. He could not lead these people to freedom- he was a traitor himself. He would only poison them and drag them, stubbornly, down to hell with him like everyone else he loved. So when EP called for him, he didn't argue. He was too tired to argue any further. In this, the end would come one way or the other. His secrets exposed to his fellows so they could use that knowledge to escape. He didn't want Bolton's death, but he'd never wanted any death on his hands. That had never stopped him before.

He wondered, as he stepped onto the teleporter, if his father's madness was hereditary. Hadn't Garon, too, lost his mind over stolen love?

It didn't take much to snap the skate blade clean off, his heel coming sharply down on it. An ugly cumbersome weapon for an ugly act. A few taps on the PIP and he knew where Bolton was. Probably awake from too much coffee. He hoped he didn't see him coming so it could be quick]

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[Bolton is awake, but that's because he's just as trapped on this floor as everyone else is on theirs. He's in the dance studio lying on his back on the raised parquet floor with his arms stretched out to the sides. He's been full of anxious, nervous energy all week, has been trying to keep Jane and Togami out of trouble so that he didn't have to worry constantly about Jamie.

Jamie was trapped on some other floor of this godforsaken space station, and Bolton didn't even know which one. He only hoped it was the first floor, hoped that Jamie at least had been able to sleep all week (though he's not sure that he would be able to sleep without Jamie, even if he wasn't trapped away from their room).

When the door opens, he sits bolt upright, ready to either explain himself but hoping against hope that maybe, maybe it was Jamie.

When he sees Xander standing there, however, even the hope that he didn't know that he had drains out of him. A shiver runs down his spine.]

You know, the worst part about this is that it means that Togami was right about there being a mole.

[Wearing his long coat, buttoned up, his riding gloves and the blade openly exposed in his hands, Xander is an imposing figure- one that clearly hadn't cared if he was spotted on his way to his target.

Even so, he smiles slightly. It looks fake, and his eyes show nothing]

Togami was right about a lot of things.

Probably comes with the territory of seeing this shit before.

[He stands up. If that blade is meant for him (and he can guess exactly why it would be), he's going to face it on his feet.]

I take it the boss thought a pink slip wasn't a dramatic enough way to tell me I'm fired.

Indeed. I... have been telling them your actions from the near start. Not everything, but enough.

[No point lying now]

I meant what I said- I had hoped it wouldn't come to this.

[He chuckles dryly, at that. Not everything, indeed.]

I figured. No hard feelings, right?

[He can keep making small talk until Xander gets into range.]

[He walks over, keeping Bolton in sight. He expected him to fight back- maybe use how ever he picked people up. Let him try]

[Bolton's PIP is eerily dark on his arm - as dark as Xander's was before it lit up again with his directive, and he doesn't move to use it. He's been abandoned, and he knows it.]

Can I get one last request in? Two- [And now he starts to sound a little nervous] Two, if you know where to hit to make this not suck quite as much.

... I can do that. Speak.

[Bolton turns his hands out, palms outward and at his sides, to show that he's defenseless.]

Get Jamie out of here. This place is killing him, this might kill him. Please. He never deserved this.

[The blank look on his face cracks, and he lowers his makeshift weapon a bit]

Jamie... has been a good friend to me. It was foolish and reckless and part of why this is happening. But he did it anyway. I...

[He laughs softly, the chuckle of a broken man]

I intend for the others to escape this place- knowing them, they will take Jamie with them. I swear I have no intention of taking them down with me. He will come to no harm from my hand.

Edited 2017-03-19 03:37 (UTC)

I was selfish, once. I hurt him, I'm the reason why he's trapped here. Nothing I do can ever make up for that, no matter how much he forgives me for.

[Bolton makes a soft, broken noise that's almost a laugh.]

You don't know how much harm killing me is going to bring him.

[Or maybe you do, you've been with him all week to see how poorly he handles being away from Bolton.]

No, I think I do... and I'm sorry for that. I may break him- but broken things can sometimes be restored. I hope... that can be the case, for him. He deserves better then this.

I promise, I will make sure he escapes if I can. You can be at peace.

[Bolton laughs, but it's a grim, joyless sound.]

It would take a lot more than that for me to be at peace.

You're not surprised that I knew why you were here.

How else would I have gotten here if not for this?

[He pulls back his sleeve to show his activated PIP]

I am a bit surprised you knew I was here for you specifically.

[He smiles, like there's something he knows that Xander doesn't.]

Then they didn't really tell you why me, did they?

[He shakes his head.]

I assumed it was because of going against their orders.

[And maybe that was why they picked Xander for this- because they knew that with the right memories and time he wouldn't care. He was practiced in following orders he could never understand]

Well, you're not wrong.

...

[A spark returns to his eyes]

Explain Bolton. Time is short, and I am already on a frayed edge. It would be easy to take out my grief on you- I wouldn't be surprised if they expected me to.

[Bolton steeples his fingers in front of his face.]

I dunno, there's not really that much incentive, since I'm going to die either way.

You're all smart. Someone will figure it out.

If they held anything less then what they do over me I would say we flee this, hit the other floors before my PIP is shut back down. Burn the place down. End this in a last spiteful blaze of revenge.

But I can not. If you will not speak, then let's finish this. I'd rather not have the others see what I'm about to do.

[Bolton steels his courage. Nods.]

I won't fight you. I have your word that you'll keep Jamie safe.

[Then, he laughs.]

Amused?

[He steps even closer- close enough it's almost like he's going to give him another dance lesson]

Just. Remember last time we were in here?

[Speaking of dance lessons.]

I guess I am seeing your worst, after all.

[He laughs as well, flipping up the blade, squeezing it so hard that the sharp edge and jagged edges of where he snapped it off start to tear into his thick leather glove]

You would not be the first man I've killed while holding court. But at least you'll be the last.

[He puts his free hand on the other man's shoulder- adding all the more to the appearance]

Did the two of you dance? Did he smile for you?

[Bolton's quiet, before he answers. Like he's holding the picture clear in his mind for strength. He smiles, but tears well in his eyes.

He can hold the image as close as he likes, but he'll never get to say goodbye. He can imagine too easily the look on Jamie's face when he finds his body, and it ruins the memory.]

We did. He was beautiful.

...I wish I hadn't waited so long.

[He nods- he understands]

Hold that image if you can, my friend.

[No more dragging this out. This close he barely even has to hook his armed arm over the other's shoulder, the other hand holding Bolton still.

He swings the blade down as hard as he can- it wouldn't do to have to strike twice. Down and into the back of the neck. Sever the spine in one swoop. Blood sprays, and he pulls the blade down and twists, tearing as much as he can between the two spinal disks so he could ruin the cord inside.

It's brutal, but fast. Knocking him out almost instantly.

The 'literal' cause of death would be suffocation as his lungs stopped working, but he wouldn't feel it.]

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