[DQ8][Fic] Nothing Else To Say (Eight/Jessica/Angelo)

[wallwalker]

[Originally posted to het_challenge.]

Title: Nothing Left to Say
Author: Wallwalker
Fandom: Dragon Quest VIII
Pairing: Eight/Jessica/Angelo
Rating: T. Everything is implied. Tough call on whether it's SFW or not.
Prompt: Dragon Quest VIII - Jessica (and possibly the hero; I like threesomes) comforts Angelo after Marcello walks away from the ruins of Neos.
Notes: I named Eight "Loto" in the game (yes, I know) and so I tend to call him that in fic, so yeah, he's in here. Angelo sort of took over this fic with angst. (He tends to do that.)

---

His brother was walking away for good.

Angelo knew that he shouldn't be surprised; Marcello had spent years pushing him away, or worse, and this was the only conclusion he'd ever realistically expected. Marcello was proud, arrogant, controlling; Angelo had known that for as long as he could remember. He should have expected all of it, even Marcello trying to pull away and fall to his own death.

He should have understood his brother's pride. It was the only thing that they'd admit to sharing.

Jessica was beside him, holding his arm. "Angelo, are you sure you want to just let him leave? He's really badly hurt," she asked gently, and for once he had no comeback, no witty reply. He couldn't even look turn away and look at her.

"Yeah, we don't have to let this happen," he heard Loto say. "We could catch him -"

"No," he said - at least he thought it was his voice, and he was pretty sure that it was his lips that were moving, but he wasn't certain about anything at all. The very foundation of his life was crumbling. "There's nothing left to say." But he kept staring after Marcello until he was nearly invisible, a dot against the horizon.

He might've stayed there forever, hoping against all hope that his brother would change his mind and turn back, if Jessica and Loto hadn't taken his arms and turned him around. He leaned on them, grateful for the support, as they all let Yangus lead them back to the wagon.

---

There was absolutely no point in trying to sleep. He'd known that from the start, so the smartest thing was just not to try, to sit by the window and try to collect his thoughts.

The others had discussed where they would stay for the night, but none of them had pressed him for input, and he hadn't offered it. So they'd ended up in Argonia, where the air should have been full of sound; the Bazaar tended to run late into the night, or so they'd said. But they'd nearly finished packing it all up by the time they'd arrived, late in the evening, spooked by the red sky.

And who could blame them for that? Certainly not Angelo. And despite everything he knew about Rhapthorne now, despite everything they'd done to try to stop him, he could not shake the feeling that all of this was his fault. If he'd been able to strike the fatal blow to Marcello when he'd fallen to his knees, he could have prevented all of this. If he only could've let go of that dream, the fantasy that they might be true brothers someday....

What mercy had he shown him, truth be told? More than the Church would show him, that much was certain. Marcello was ruined; he would live every day a branded man, and he would remember every day that he had loosed this evil upon the world. Angelo would not have wished that on anyone... except that he already had wished it upon Marcello by saving his life.

But what else could he have done? Was he supposed to stand there and watch his only blood relative fall to his death? Then he'd be alone in the world. But he already felt alone, Goddess help him, like the last man in the world, and the feeling was crushing him under its weight.

He stood up. Maybe a change of scenery would do him some good, make him feel less trapped.

The night air was pleasant as he walked outside, at least - almost absurdly so, considering what hung in the sky over their heads. Angelo wondered if he could see the floating fortress in the night sky if he looked for it. But he didn't; he kept his eyes down, didn't let himself look at the stars. It was easier that way.

The town was quiet. Angelo sat down on the steps of the inn and closed his eyes, trying not to think about it anymore. But his mind had an uncanny way of torturing itself at moments like this, of telling him over and over that he would be alone for the rest of his life, no matter how many nameless, faceless women he could charm without even trying.

Goddess, he needed some company. Just one kiss, one caress, one innocent and willing girl writhing with him between the sheets. He needed... he just needed....

But he didn't want another one-night stand, not really. What he wanted was someone who'd be there in the morning, and the next morning, and the next. Someone that he could wake up to without wondering when he'd wake up alone again, a constant in his life to take the place of loneliness.

He heard something - a rustling of cloth, perhaps - but chose to ignore it. He kept his eyes closed, kept trying to think.

He didn't know where to start. The only person who had always been there for him for longer than a few years was dead, and even then Angelo had never made it easy to care about him. He could at least be honest enough to admit it to himself. He'd thought that he hadn't needed anyone, even as he'd desperately reached out and clung to what he'd been offered -

- and suddenly there were people beside him, sitting on either side of him, and he would have jumped up and gone for his sword, except that he heard one of them whisper his name So instead he opened his eyes, tried not to glare at both of them - Loto on his left and Jessica on his right, both of them looking at him with identical expressions of concern.

There still wasn't anything to say. He tried to smile, at first, but the smile was hollow and unconvincing and did nothing for the worry on their faces, so he stopped and shook his head as if to say, Come on, for pity's sake, why are you two out here wasting your time with me? Go back to sleep.

They didn't leave him. For the second time in a few hours they both took his arms and led him away.

---

They were there when he woke up in the morning, when he opened his eyes of his own volition and not because of a commander's scream. Both of them were there, Loto with one arm thrown across his chest, Jessica cuddled against his other side with her hair unbound and falling over his shoulder. Angelo spared a mere glance for the window - the sun was high in the sky, which surprised him in passing, since usually Yangus would turn up at dawn and knock on his door until he finally woke up. Or maybe the man had enough sense to figure out what had happened, and was letting them have their privacy.

But neither of his companions had shown any signs of stirring, and so he leaned back and closed his eyes again, and let himself smile. It was a small smile - Marcello was still gone, and he was still afraid that there wouldn't be another morning like this again - but it was something.

He'd have to tell them that he was grateful... but that could wait until later. For the moment, at least, nothing needed to be said.