Work Text:
"We have a visiting envoy from Kepler arriving next week. They'll be staying in the west wing of the Tower. I've already arranged for the Guardian to be their escort and spoken to the scientists they'll be working with, but I wanted to see what your schedule was, Lodi, and see if you wanted to accompany them for the week. I could— Lodi?"
Orin glanced up. It was always during Ikora's briefings that she questioned her choice to return to the Tower the most, and so she wasn't ashamed to admit she had been drifting, up until the Vanguard leader had called attention to the Emissary— and a good thing she did.
Lodi's eyes were wide and glowing, his breathing coming in harsh, shallow gasps. As they watched, his head flung back, shoulders tensed up by his ears.
"Not now," he begged. "Please, not here."
Orin stood, sending her chair toppling behind her. "Everyone out."
Ikora and the other Vanguard members were on their feet now. "Why? What's going on?"
"Nothing— nothing dangerous," she amended, seeing Ikora's look. "The Nine want to commune."
"We've seen that before."
"Not like this. This is… personal. Go. Now." When Ikora hesitated, she added, "Please."
The Vanguard leader's eyes widened minutely. She knew Orin to be blunt; if she was asking like this, it must be important. With a nod, Ikora gestured to the other Lightbearers and they vacated the room.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Lodi's body seized, and rose into the air. She could see him straining, fighting, the tears that leaked from his eyes only to evaporate as they touched his burning skin. Light like solar flares caressed his limbs, under his clothes, faint enough that Orin wasn't sure she would be able to see it if she hadn't experienced it herself.
". worth|less make up | of atoms ."
Fire and night that tore her apart, bit by infinitesimal bit, not caring as she screamed. Crows plucked her molecules like eyes from a corpse, using them to line a cosmic nest that cradled Sol in its grasp. Her scream reverberated, sending her molecules dancing, a perfect A*sin(kx−ωt+ϕ) that traveled down the line before being crushed under the mass of an event horizon. For the fourth time that day, IX reformed her, with something new out of place, and she had never been able to figure out what.
"My will is my own," she whispered. "I am my own."
She wished she was brave enough to take Lodi's hand, to provide some meaningless comfort during his unmaking, but she wasn't. She was scared. She had fought so hard to be free of the Nine that she wouldn't risk anything that might put her back in their flourine hands.
Finally though, the communion ceased. Lodi's grunts and groans quieted to whimpers and gasps and then to hitched breathing as he was dropped abruptly back in his chair.
Orin gave him a minute. It was always painful coming back to oneself. She wondered if he hurt the same way she had, skin rubbed raw under sand paper, each movement a thousand knives until her molecules settled against each other again.
His tears no longer evaporated as they traced their way down his cheeks from clear brown eyes. He forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to even out the sobs and, after a moment, succeeded enough to take stock of the room around him.
"Where— where did everyone go?"
"I asked them to leave. I figure you didn't want everyone seeing that."
"Oh. I— thank you." He met her eyes, the question in them so loud it was practically deafening. "Why didn't you go with them?"
Why hadn't she? "I didn't want you to be alone," she finally whispered. "I know what they're like when they're in a mood."
Lodi choked out a harsh laugh and took off his glasses to brush the tears from his eyes. "When are they not?"
Orin was not laughing. "You know what I mean."
Lodi nodded, leaning forward on his knees, almost contemplative if he didn't sound so hopeless when he said, "So they mindfucked you too, huh?"
That— didn't sound exactly like her experience and she hated the taste of dread that colored the back of her throat.
"You mean… literally?"
Lodi sniffled and she could see the whites of his knuckles, nails biting into the skin of his palm so hard she could smell the blood. How else could he describe it? IX had stolen the words, so he came up with his own. It was—
It was the feeling of older boys in the locker room, cornering you after gym, holding you down and letting you know exactly what they thought of spics like you.
It was the technical sergeant who kept eyeballing your ass when he thought you couldn't see— and then specifically when you could. It was him cornering you, reminding you he could make your life hell, stop your career before it started, if you didn't give him what he wanted.
It was finding a home in the DEO and thinking it was all in the past only to pick up a damn phone and have a cosmic entity violate you over and over again in ways your tiny human brain couldn't comprehend or hold onto.
"My will is my own," he breathed. He chose this. He— he was chosen.
".such hand|some bosons."
Bile that tasted like fusion stung the back of his throat as he gagged, willing what little was in his stomach to stay down.
"Yes, literally," he finally managed to say. "You've heard how IX talks about me. I don't… I don't know what else to call it. You're telling me they never— you—"
"They were… not so interested in me in the same way. I was more of a chew toy than anything. Something for them to take their frustrations out on rather than… explore."
"That doesn't sound fun." Lodi huffed, sitting up with a bit-back groan. His jaw was sore from the gravity that had filled it, back aching from the way he had been bent and twisted, if not in this plane of reality then in another. His robes scraped against burnt skin, making him shiver and perfuming the air with the scent of ozone. "Was it all of them? Or… one in particular?"
"Mm. They all had their fun. IV most frequently, then IX." Her voice was small. "I do not miss IX."
"I'm sorry if seeing all that brought back bad memories."
Did they ever leave? She shook her head. "It's not your fault. Besides, you're talking. You're recovering better than I ever did." Maybe there was something intrinsically better about the beautiful boy.
"Ha. This was mild compared to what, um, what normally happens." IX could stretch time and warp reality to fit his needs, bringing Lodi to him to probe in his own realm, in his true form. Dark tendrils circling his wrists, the sky dilating like an iris above him until it blinded, then tore him open. Other times, IX came to him, cornering him in the safety of his cot back on Kepler and pinning him to the sheets through different dimensions as he burrowed his way to the center of Lodi's being with all the subtlety of a blunted bonesaw. There were times it took him hours to remember his name, days to be able to reconnect with his tongue, terrifying for the linguist in him as he ran through multiple lexicons, reassuring himself that it was all still there. His joints still sparked like flint when he moved and it was more often than not that his fingers lost feeling for hours at a time. Orin had warned him that acclimating to the Nine was like acclimating to lightning strikes; he hadn't realized how accurate the description was.
Lodi had always been alone when IX took him— up until now, that was. "He seemed amused to have an audience this time, but I, uh. I don't think he likes sharing. I don't… I don't know what he'll do from now on."
Orin hummed. It had been foolish to hope. "I'm sorry that you have inherited this burden. I did try to warn you."
"Yeah, well, it's my own damn fault, isn't it? Never should have picked up that damn phone." He rubbed his face, leaning back in his chair to stare at the ceiling. "How did you do it? Come out the other side as well as you did."
"Hm. I'm not sure I'd say I did, honestly, but I understand what you mean." Now that she was out, it was harder to remember the specifics, but certain things remained no matter how hard her electrons got scrambled. "Persimmons. And lychee nuts. Lemon juice and honey and cold water, if that's the best you can do. Taste and smell settle your nerves faster than anything. Other than that… I don't know? Sheer grit? I lost hope, but I kept looking for a way out anyway until I found it."
"I don't think— I don't think they'll let me go. Not yet." Maybe not ever went unsaid, but not unheard.
"You have more hope than I had though, with III's message. "Bind the Nine." If the Guardian-Weapon can succeed, maybe we'll be free, once and for all."
Lodi let out a sigh that sounded more like a sob. "Don't— I don't know. Hope feels dangerous."
"It is. For them." She stood and extended her hand. "Keep fighting, Lodi. Your will is your own and they know it. If they underestimate the power of that, well, they've done it before. And they will regret it."
Lodi took her hand and rose to his feet. "Thank you, Orin. I appreciate this— more than you know."
"As the Aionians say, "knowledge decays if it is not shared." I did not have the benefit of predecessor I could learn from— broke his spine actually— but I am… glad I can do this for you. I think."
"If it's ever too much—"
"You would know." A hint of a smile cracked her stoic facade. "You should probably find Ikora. She was in the middle of a riveting debriefing when you got diverted."
Lodi laughed, truly this time, and the tendrils of ionized light crawling at the edge of his vision drew back until his sight was clear. "I'll do that. Thank you."
"Of course."