Work Text:
"Você sempre foi fraco."
A voice, hidden to the world, but all too familiar.
"Você sempre será fraco."
Pac's head swiveled around the cave for any physical sign of who the voice belonged to, a hand around the hilt of his sword at his side, even if it wasn't any use.
"Você sempre estará abaixo de mim, sempre sob meu controle, sempre uma marionete."
Pac's head paused its searching, realization setting in, realization and anger.
"You think this is fun? You think we're playing a game? Show yourself, Léo!"
Swords clashed and screams called out to already fallen ears and beams of magic rang out on the other side of the cave.
And then Pac's ears twitched as there was a difference in presence behind him, even though they weren't moving, no longer just a voice.
"Boo."
The deep purple hood attached to the rest of a cloak surrounding the front of a skull is what greeted him face to face as he turned around.
Eyes soulless, if not entirely lacking, the cold of the void following each interaction, an unmoving smile of too much teeth sitting just barely visible beyond the dark the hood created, a deep chuckle lacking any emotion thundering from his vocal chords and against Pac's ribcage.
"O que é que você fez?"
"O que *eu* fiz? I've done nothing, nothing physical anyway, nothing about this."
Léo's arms spread and gestured around him to prove point of context.
"O que é que *você* fez, Peqi? A culpa é tanto sua quanto minha."
And. He wasn't right. But. He wasn't wrong either.
"I didn't do anything."
"Oh, but here's the funny thing, Pac, you did. This all came about because you lost the election, because your friends went against you, because they betrayed you. You lost, and you fell into this, this spiral, and lo and behold."
Léo cocked his head, smiling with too many teeth again, and stepping somehow closer, hand nearly on his chest.
"Eu sou você, Pac, e você é eu, caso você tenha se esquecido disso?"
Pac rarely got angry, truly angry, angry enough for it to count, and Léo made that ugly side of him come out each time, even beyond the fear and ache, just like everything else, just one more thing, one more piece Léo has and held around his head.
"Eu não sou nada parecido com você, e nunca serei."
"Mas você é, e você será. Maybe not yet, maybe not here, but you will, Peqi. You can tell yourself lies as much as you want, it's rather fun watching you tell yourself these things, but we both know the truth will come about at some point. Seus amigos não fizeram, e continuarão sem fazer, absolutamente nada."
Pac's hand tightened on the handle of his weapon, knuckles clenching furiously, and it wasn't painful enough.
He wanted to hurt Léo, he wanted to kill him.
He wanted all of this to be over for him and both of them and everyone and wished it never started.
And he screamed, a heartbreaking almost roar, and he shoved down the already against his hip and put away sword, white knuckles falling from the hilt frustratingly, and practically launched himself against Léo's chest.
Léo's hands rested still, laying just outward and beyond his sides, paused in a sort of shock, Pac's wrapped around his back and cloak loosely and crying into his chest.
Tears of anguish, of realization, of fear, of anger, of grief, all of it, all of it was released as Pac used the hands still hugging Léo to flick the wrists and punch his back with no real intent of harm.
"Eu te odeio, eu nunca serei como você, eu nunca quero ser como você. Por que você se revelou, por que você entrou na minha vida, que mal eu te fiz? Por que você não me deixa em paz?"
Pac cluched the back of the fabric around Léo's back as tears settled on waterlines.
And Léo reached toward his chest, toward the blue clad boy, and cupped a cold hand around one side of his face, pulling him back from the hug gently, smiling with too many teeth and soulless eyes looking into his.
"Você sempre fará parte de mim, Peqi, e eu sempre farei parte de você."
And then, and then he faded away into pieces of blue and purple, a mix of magic and like teleporting.
And Pac was alone in the cave once more, tears cooling as they slowed their path on his cheeks.
Where did, where is he? Where did he go? Did he disappear, finally? Is, did Pac absorb him? Is he finally free?
And before he could think about anymore possibilities, before his tears could completely dry, there was pain.
All he felt was sudden, immediate, overwhelming, indescribable pain.
His face was burning the entire side of his face that Léo held was burning, he was certain he was on fire without there actually being any fire he could see out hear or smell.
Pac screamed, raw and agonizing and near ear bursting, clutching his cheek with both hands and he felt the skin underneath them dissolve.
His face was literally melting, the skin around his eye and on the apple of his cheek popping like oil and sliding off the bone.
He could only watch the world ahead as the vision from his left eye remained and the vision from his right at first burst like static, then whited out like there was a nuke, then finally there was nothing.
Void and cold and nothing.
Pac finally stopped screaming, his throat a wreck and like no amount of water would heal it, but that was the least of his concerns.
He twitched one finger from one of his hands still against his face, making sure it was still useful, making sure he was still alive, and he finally rubbed it against his face to take in what all happened.
He could feel where the skin on his jaw was, well, was still skin, and he could feel the separation between skin and bone.
His skull exposed on the apple of his cheek and around his eye and to the point of his hairline on that side of his face.
One side of his vision was gone, was of his entire eyes was gone, an empty and cold socket in its place.
He could feel patches of, not skin but not bone either, every so often, patches of rot, of infection, of death.
The other half of his face near fully soaked with cold tears.
And if Pac focused, he could almost hear Léo chuckling from somewhere beyond him and the cave and the chaos, sitting and curling on himself in defeat and realization.