He had not expected this sudden turn in the conversation. Thrown off guard, he simply stared at Nigredo with a blank expression, well aware that this was a weighted question. It was his brother’s reaction that rocked him to the core, however, disturbing the pretty semblance of peace he had been attempting to restore. Gaze turning inward, he rolled the word why over inside his mind, picking at it, searching it. But as he settled his attention on the title of Executioner, he could not find it in his heart to feel betrayed. Instead, he only found guilt. After all, he had been their leader, their older brother, their protector—and he had failed them both. Nigredo had been made to carry this burden, this secret, alone all their lives and Jr. had been too stupid to ask about any of it—about dad, about Citrine, about Nigredo’s ability. Why indeed. Stepping forward, he pulled his brother into him and crushed him in a hug, shuddering.
“Would you shut up?” Except the words had no bite to them; they were meant as a distraction, though whether for Nigredo’s benefit or his own, he couldn’t say. He could feel the sting of tears in his eyes again and cursed under his breath. “Man, look at me. This is pathetic. Actually, no, don’t look. Forget I said anything.” Since when was he the crybaby of the group? Hands gripping his brother’s clothes tightly, he exhaled and then began.
“You know what I was made for, so how do you expect me to hold this against you? Your original purpose doesn’t define you, Nigredo. The galaxy is chock-full of monsters and, let’s be honest here, I’m one of ‘em.” He leaned back to look his brother in the eye, and if his cheeks were suspiciously wet, he was determinedly pretending they weren’t. “But you’re not. You’re my brother. You were never my Executioner. C’mon…” Now he paused to wipe his cheek on his shoulder, clearing his throat to find a more humorous tone. “…Did you really think your future self would let dad get the last say? You refused that path. And what you don’t understand is…”
Trailing off, he quietly glanced at Albedo, trying to say it without words.
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“Would you shut up?” Except the words had no bite to them; they were meant as a distraction, though whether for Nigredo’s benefit or his own, he couldn’t say. He could feel the sting of tears in his eyes again and cursed under his breath. “Man, look at me. This is pathetic. Actually, no, don’t look. Forget I said anything.” Since when was he the crybaby of the group? Hands gripping his brother’s clothes tightly, he exhaled and then began.
“You know what I was made for, so how do you expect me to hold this against you? Your original purpose doesn’t define you, Nigredo. The galaxy is chock-full of monsters and, let’s be honest here, I’m one of ‘em.” He leaned back to look his brother in the eye, and if his cheeks were suspiciously wet, he was determinedly pretending they weren’t. “But you’re not. You’re my brother. You were never my Executioner. C’mon…” Now he paused to wipe his cheek on his shoulder, clearing his throat to find a more humorous tone. “…Did you really think your future self would let dad get the last say? You refused that path. And what you don’t understand is…”
Trailing off, he quietly glanced at Albedo, trying to say it without words.
“…I owe you everything.”