Forgot My Floaties [Lilium/Yaksha]

You can feel it, can't you Yaksha?  You're finished.  It's my turn to shine.  You're so close to the finish line...and as soon as you cross it, you'll be passing the baton.  All this work, and it will be me who reaps the fruits of your labors.  Exactly as it should've been, all along.  You should've died centuries ago, and you've just been working on building my empire since then.  But it's nearly endgame...so let's end it.

Yaksha walked along the streets of Vegas, no longer sure of where he was going or what he was doing; he'd been going out on some spot of business, when suddenly Salt was just -there-, walking by his side, with a hand clenching onto his shoulder.  Each time, it seemed to come on more and more suddenly, and he felt it wracking his entire body as it did.  Salt was growing stronger, he could sense it...or perhaps he was growing weaker.  It was true he had nearly finished in creating the framework of this grand organization he was contemplating...and it was equally true he was scared of success.  Afterwards, it was going to be a completely different game.  It would be time to start taking swings, instead of sitting on the sidelines and waiting for things to come to him.

He couldn't deny that the next part seemed impossibly hard, steeper than he was prepared for.  And he couldn't deny that if there was anyone in this world who would be able to turn what he was about to do into reality, it was Salt.  There had been such a deep, heavy charisma around him, something that had driven a cowardly little shit to his side, and convinced him to start taking chances.  They'd had such pleasant days together...and it had all ended when he hadn't been prepared to follow Salt in his ambitions.  Suicidal though they may have been.

"Suicide?  You're kidding, right?  You were dead when I met you.  I gave you life, you ungrateful little shit.  I was the one who helped you find your tongue again.  You owe it all to me.  All of this shit.  You would still be burying your shit in the sand if we hadn't met.  So, come on guy...I'm not asking that much.  Just give it back, okay?  Let me take the drivers' seat.  You're nodding off at the wheel, so who's gonna blame you if you just lie down in the back and...sleep?  For a century or two, maybe five?  And then you can be the one whispering poison in -my- ear."

Yaksha moved along on limbs that felt packed with cotton, staring straight ahead without any recognition.  There was none of his usual smug delight, or the calmness of a man that was on the verge of doing something great.  He looked like a man in delight, or someone trying his damndest to forget something he had seen.  He was walking, walking around, but not really getting anywhere.  All the faces he walked past looked the same, all the people just shapeless blurs.  He was drowning, and Salt was the anchor, keeping him centered in reality...or was he the anchor, dragging him down into the deep ocean, threatening to suffocate him?  Or was he both?  Yaksha's head pounded and roiled, uncertain of anything anymore.

"Stop this.  You know...why I did what I did."

"Course I do!  I'm not even mad, guy.  You were weak, and when you had the option to man up or bitch out, you bitched out.  It's just the way it is.  You're the one that's doing this, yanno.  Not me.  I'm -dead-.  Thanks to you.  You're the one who can't help but wonder if you're gonna bitch out and run away again, or rise to the challenge.  And where are you gonna run, this time?  Besides right into your own head.  Go back to being a Gillian.  It'll be fun.  You can sleep.  You won't have to...rise above anymore.  No more of this stupid...the fuck...?"

These last words were spoken in incredulity, as Yaksha and Salt both turned to see a small girl approaching, her eyes zipping through the air as if looking at something only she could see.  Yaksha was quite familiar with that expression, and wouldn't have given it a second thought, were it not for the fact she was oozing black sludge from her mouth and eyes, as if she were on the verge of death.  Salt squeezed Yaksha's shoulder harder, chuckling, and then shaking his head.

"God damn, man.  You attract the -weirdest- fucking people.  So what're you gonna do?  You need me to take this one?"

Yaksha rose one hand, in a gesture that almost brought to mind a man asking a waiter to wait patiently for a moment, or a friend to be patient.  In a single instant, Salt's body itself had turned watery and out-of-focus, leaving the rest of the world going back into focus.  He stared down at the girl, his gaze dispassionate, his face giving away nothing.

He had to pull this off perfectly, for it to work.  He had to make every word count.  He needed to show everyone that he wasn't just some mad beast.  His instincts were screaming at him to strike her down, to flee, to do any number of things that were likely far smarter than sticking around.  But if he listened to his instincts, it would be a few weeks, at best, before they drove him to death.  He could feel it.  He was slipping, losing his control at the most crucial moment.

What could he say?  What words were there, that could actually get his mind to stop screaming at him for a few moments?  He needed to make a strong impression, now of all times.  He'd started down Ravan, Kisuke, Kyoraku...so many people, that could've obliterated him.  And for some reason, right now, he was more afraid than he had been in any of their presences.

"Is that a deadly infectious disease, or are you just happy to see me?"

His tone gave away none of the inner turmoil he was feeling...and just like that, most of it seemed to abate.  Something about the mere act of speaking seemed to have centered his mind again, brought him back to reality.  Whatever this girl wanted, he could find a way to get it to her.


God damn, Yaksha.  That one wasn't so bad.  You might actually pull this off.