Milly, what have you done to me/My friend?
Blackheart waits for them outside Mephisto’s throne room as they approach, the inky tendrils of his form twisting in the flickering shadows the fires of Hell cast. “Young ones.”
“Brother,” Billy murmurs, allowing Blackheart to rest a heavy hand on his shoulder- it’s an uncommon feeling. Touch is rarely given, not in Hell, not used for comfort instead of punishment. And yet Blackheart indulges them with it still, painfully human as they are, and they indulge him in turn. Tommy stills too, for a moment, to allow their brother’s hand to brush through his hair before he’s moving once more, never able to stay still for long.
“We need to see Father,” he says quickly, his fingers drumming against his arm in a blur, and Blackheart’s piercing eyes twist.
Oh. One of those times, then.
“The Lord Mephisto should not be disturbed, little brother.” Blackheart steps between them and the gate, a sorrow in his gaze. “Father is in… a bitter mood. To speak with him would only serve to direct it at you.”
Tommy’s restless hands jump, grabbing Billy’s arm and tugging him close. “What? No, we-”
“Tommy,” he cuts in sharply, and his brother’s face falls. “If Father- if he’s angry it’ll do us no good to speak to him now. We’ll wait.”
It’s dangerous, to interpret Mephisto.
Tommy scowls, pulling away. “All we do is wait, Billy. How much longer is this supposed to last?”
Forever, he thinks, but doesn’t say it. Tommy already knows, after all. They are never leaving. They are lost souls, Mephisto’s souls, and Hell will be all they know because there is nothing else out there for them. They will wait, and it will never end because they are not enough to earn more.
Tommy’s shoulders are tense, his jaw set hard as he mutters, “We don’t need his power to leave, Will. We could-”
“We need his permission, Tom,” he hisses, and Tommy scoffs, turning on his heel and digging his nails into his arms. Billy wants to reach out to him, pull him back, but he just- needs to be angry.
Lately everything makes Tommy angry, like the desperation under his skin is leaking into everything else.
It’s exhausting.
Blackheart watches them, solemn and blank. “I am sorry, little ones.”
Billy nods tightly in response, biting his tongue to stop his own desperation from spilling out.
Maybe Tommy isn’t the only one who’s been angry.
“What is it you need?” Blackheart asks, and Tommy sighs, a heavy sound, as he returns to Billy’s side, tangling their hands together.
“We were- well-”
“We need to visit the surface,” Billy says quietly, wrapping his cloak tighter around himself. “There was- something we needed to look into.”
“Something?”
“Someone,” he relents, and Blackheart’s face twists- he has always had a soft spot for them, their lost and human souls.
They are what he cannot be, after all. Alive. Human.
But not good. And never happy. They share that with him.
“…the Master still forbids you from leaving, does he?”
Tommy flinches, twisting his free hand in the scorched fabric of Billy’s cloak to pull him closer. “You know damn well that he does.” The spike of fear from him in their bond is strong enough to burn- it’s for good reason. When they’d been children, Billy’s powers hadn’t been easily controlled by will so much as desire. And he had never wanted to stay here. So if Billy left without his permission, intentional or not, Mephisto would punish his twin for it, instead of him.
An effective lesson. He had learned to control his teleportation quickly.
Blackheart pushes on, the inky darkness of his form swirling faster. “But if you left under my orders-”
“All that would do is share his anger with you as well,” Billy protests. “We will wait. His moods pass.” Never into anything better, not for Mesphisto, but they pass.
“And when we do ask?” Tommy demands, his hands blurred as they dart across his arms and through his hair and across Billy’s shoulders. “What then? We don’t know that he’ll let us.”
“We don’t know that he won’t-”
“Of course he won’t!”
“You’re the one who suggested-”
“I wasn’t thinking!” Tommy cries, drawing back. “I am now! What reason would he have to allow us to return to the surface, much less New York? He’ll be suspicious if we ask for a mission from him, Billy, and then he’ll track us and find out we lied to him and he will kill that boy you found and lock us here until humanity dies, if he doesn’t kill us himself for disobedience!”
“Then what do you want to do, Tommy?” he begs his brother, letting his desperation swirl through their connection, Tommy flinching away from the sting. “I don’t have another option here. There is no better plan. What do you want from me?”
“I want you to be safe,” his twin manages, the words choked. “I- fuck, Billy, what do we do?”
He doesn’t know. But Blackheart…
He looks to their brother, digging his teeth into his lip. “Blackheart-”
“Do not be gone long,” he warns, the rumble of his voice low and sure.
Billy tries for a smile. Probably fails. “I didn’t even tell you what-”
Their brother rests a hand on his shoulder, drawing Tommy close with the other. “Go. Return. I will protect you, for all that I can do so.” He knows, what they need. He always seems to, although his vision is often clouded by yearning. Given the circumstances, he is… a good brother. As good as something like him can be to something like them.
Tommy grabs his hand, as Blackheart steps away. “A- are you sure about this?” Fear leaks into his voice as he says, “If Father notices-”
“We’ll be quick,” he promises, the press of magic strong in his fingertips. “And- what if it helps?”
What if they can be something else, something better?
Tommy’s expression flickers, then hardens. “Alright. Hurry, then.”
A breath. “IwanttobeinNewYorkIwanttobeinNewYork-”
And underneath it, a constant chant, a desperate wish.
Iwantustobefree.