Ache By Immicolia immicolia@hotmail.com http://www.geocities.com/immicolia PAIRING: Loki/Bartleby (because you just _know_ that if they'd been physically capable of it they woulda been screwing like crazy ^_^) RATING: R (for language) SUMMARY: How Bartleby and Loki deal with the emptiness brought about by their banishment. STATEMENT MADE TO COVER ONE'S ASS: The boys belong to Kevin Smith, I'm just having a little fun with them.... Okay, a lot of fun. If only the angels from Dogma weren't sexless.... FEEDBACK: It is that by which I live... or at least my Ego does. THE LINE FROM DOGMA THAT STARTED THIS ONE... ^_^ "All this time we've been down here I've felt the absence of the Divine presence and it's pained me, as I'm sure it must have pained you." - Bartleby during his epiphany ------------------------------------------------------------------ ACHE By: Immicolia The sound was weak, but agonized. Like some kind of wounded animal near death. A moan, a whimper, a sob of the purest pain. Noises of intense hurt that at one time, while in his role as Angel of Death, Loki had been quite familiar with and equally adept at ignoring. Not so anymore. It had been one thing when the cries had been those of the wicked. Those who had incurred the wraith of the Almighty that it had been his job to punish. But this was different. This was an agony that he knew and understood, even shared. This was Bartleby -- his friend, his confidant, his companion in this wretched banishment -- feeling the ache again. It was always there of course. The lack, that painful emptiness in himself that came from being so far from Paradise, from the Divine, from home, for so long. From not being able to go back. It would never go away. But it could be bearable. He always felt it keenly but he could cope. But Bartleby.... Bartleby felt it, and it ate at him. Constantly. Twenty-four-seven. Until every so often it overwhelmed him and he wound up like this. A mess that you couldn't talk to, couldn't reason with, you could only try and comfort him and figure that maybe tomorrow would be better. And it usually was. After breaking down Bartleby was usually good for months after. The ache subsided and the Grigori went back to being his old self. For a while. But it was always there. And it would always come back. Like it had now. Knowing what he had to do, Loki took a quick deep breath to fortify himself and forced himself to march into Bartleby's room. He found the other fallen angel curled into a nearly fetal position on the bed and without a second thought Loki plopped to a sitting position beside him, resting a hand on one tense shoulder. "Hey, man...." Bartleby glowered and twisted away from the grip, his eyes slightly glassy from the emotional agony he was in. "Fuck off. I don't want you trying to help. How can you do this. How can you sit there like you don't feel it. I _know_ you feel it." "I do," Loki agreed with a slight nod, his hand closing over Bartleby's shoulder again. Fingers digging into the muscles in a firm, soothing, massage. "I feel it. I know it hurts. But you'll get past it. You always get past it. Tomorrow...." "I don't want to think about tomorrow!" A tiny, agonized laugh escaped Bartleby's throat as he shook his head. "It gets worse every day, Loki. It hurts more. I feel emptier. Like... like I have nothing left...." "You have me." "Cold fucking comfort and pretty arrogant of you to boot." Loki froze and sat back, letting his hands fall to his sides. "I didn't think so. That's the way I see you. But if you want to fucking sulk and cry over something that _you_ got us into in the first place be my guest. I'm sorry for trying to make you feel a little better about it." Wondering the whole time why he even bothered, Loki jerked to his feet and was about to storm off when a hand at his wrist stopped him. "Don't. I'm being an asshole...." "That you are," Loki said with a slight nod, not about to argue. "But it just hurts so much," Bartleby continued, as if his friend hadn't even spoken. "I wish it didn't. I need you. You feel it but it's not bothering you. How do you stand it, Loki? How can you handle the lack day in and day out?" As always the hurt, the pure pain and wounded pleading in Bartleby's tone caused him to turn back and sit down again. Pulling his long-time friend into his arms, Loki let out a small sigh. Their foreheads pressed together as he spoke. "Bartleby, I hate seeing you like this. I hate the way you let the emptiness eat at you. You gotta stop letting it do that." "I wish I could. How do you do it. How can you take it better than I can?" "I just remember it could be worse. I could be alone in this. But I'm not. I have you." Gently, the former Angel of Death let his lips brush against his friend's forehead in a gesture of comfort. A light soothing touch as sexless as they ultimately were. "I'm here, Bartleby. I feel it too. It hurts me as much as it hurts you. You're not alone in this. You'll never be alone. Just remember that." "Where the hell would I be without you around?" "Well, you wouldn't be here." Bartleby smiled and settled himself in Loki's arms a little more comfortably. "You're a pretty big asshole yourself, you do realize that." "I know. So you feeling a little less...." "Yea." He frowned slightly as Loki started to move away with that statement. "I didn't say I wanted you to go, Loki." "But you...." "I said I was feeling a little less empty. I didn't say I wanted you to let me go. I like this." Loki smiled and nodded slightly, simply enjoying the feeling of holding his closest, his only, friend in his arms. Glad that he didn't have to move. To tell the truth he didn't want to ever move. He could easily spend the rest of time until the apocalypse holding Bartleby to remind him that neither of them were alone in feeling the ache. Bartleby letting their lips touch surprised him only slightly -- it seemed to be a natural progression of comfort -- but how quickly the intensity of it rose left him taken slightly aback. As sexless beings, arousal was a foreign concept, but Loki decided this must be pretty damn close to how it should feel as a tongue swept into his mouth. Clashing with his own. Their arms tightened around each other as the kiss deepened and intensified. Loki finally pulling back with a gasp and a wistful look into the Grigori's eyes. "I think we've been down here too long. I'm almost wishing that I had a...." "Yea." Bartleby's voice was hoarse as he tilted his head forward to let their foreheads press together again. "Yet another thing denied us." "What?" "Nothing." He brushed another quick kiss against Loki's slightly swollen lips and smiled. "Nothing at all. Just... forget it." They sat there in silence for a few moments until Bartleby spoke up again. "Loki, promise me something." "What?" "Promise me that you'll stop me from getting like this again." "I'll try. I promise I'll try." Another quick kiss, warm and tender. Although neither was sure who initiated it this time. All that was certain was that something had changed. They couldn't be lovers, but they could love. And they would. To keep that perpetual ache a little more at bay. ENDIT!