Wrath and Love

Wrath and Love: Chapter Eight


Pepito walked slowly through the left wing of the third floor hall, leaving his quarters behind to pass Lucille's, his mother's and Marla's before reaching Todd's. When his knocking received no response, he used his powers to unlock the door. Technically, he had a card key that would open any door in the estate, but it was too much hassle to keep up with it and the keys for every house he owned. Todd's new rooms were very similar to his own. They had the same basic layout, but with a few small differences. The living room was smaller and there was no balcony attached to the bedroom which might aid the other in escape. It was a little sad because he knew how much Todd like to be under the stars, but such precautions were needed.

Looking around the sparsely furnished room and seeing the lights off in the bathroom, Pepito made his way to the closed bedroom door. It had been a few days since the man had been healed. They had had a few more near fights and a long series of awkward moments, but he seemed to be adjusting fairly well, and, with that in mind, Pepito really needed to head back to his office in New York. He had been away, without notice, for far too long, and people were starting to speculate.

Also he had decided that the situation with Todd was making him much too erratic. Karl's paranoia, which he had applied to almost every one of the potentials in order of their discovery, was rubbing off on him. As a result, he had gotten himself so worked up that he had called Edgar in Arizona and ordered him to bring the guilty guards back to California with him instead of having them killed on the spot so that he might enact some half-baked plan based on an assumption that was pretty ridiculous when he really thought about it.

There was no way that Todd was going to be the next incarnation. He certainly hadn't come from a 'virtuous' family. He had been friends, best friends, with Pepito for years! And there was also an underlying and repressed vindictiveness for his parents and some of their old classmates. Todd had even told him once that his teddy bear told him to burn things, people included! Of course, he knew that Todd would never actually do anything like that, but-

He stopped with his fist in midair, ready to knock again, when he heard talking, instead pressing his palm to the door and leaning closer to make out the words.

“-just don't know what to do. I feel like I never know what to do. I know I should probably try to get away from here, but I don't know how I can anymore...and a part of me doesn't want to. I don't...,” his voice broke and he paused to sniff, “I wish things didn't have to be this way. That everything wasn't so messed up.”

Praying. Todd was praying!

“All of this is supposed to be fate or something, right? But that's not fair...though, I guess fair is an unrealistic expectation. Not much in life seems to be fair.”

There was a pause and then the sound of Todd shuffling around on the mattress. When the talking didn't pick up again, Pepito balled his fist more tightly than was strictly necessary, taking a few cleansing breathes before finally letting it fall against the wood of the door.

Todd started at the knocking that rang through his ears just as he was about to dose off. He sat up quickly, pushing the covers down to his waist to reveal the same pajamas that he had apparently stolen from Pepito three nights ago. “Uh, come in!”

Pepito opened the door carefully, not bothering to close it behind him as he took a few steps into the room. “Hi.”

At the subdued scowl on the other's face, Todd felt his body tense up. “H-hey. Is...something wrong?” Usually the conflicts that he and the Antichrist got into arose through present interaction. Pepito had yet to seek him out to argue, so that probably wasn't a good sign.

“Wrong? You want 'wrong'? I've been listening at the door for the past five minutes.”

“Oh...that was rude of you.” His voice came out a tad shocked. As a teenager, Pepito would have at least had the decency to not mention it if he had done such a thing, or at least apologize if he did admit it.

“Yes, well, some would consider attempting to conspire with the enemy of your host in his own home fairly rude as well.”

“Conspire? Seriously?” Todd bit his lip to stop himself from also commenting on the relevance and meaning of the word “host” and how it was a better match for other words like “guest” than “detainee”.

“Quite seriously I'm afraid.” Pepito signed. “But I don't really feel up to another fight right now.”

“Neither do I.”

“Good, because it would be a shame for us to part that way when I leave.”

“Leave? You're leaving?” Realizing that his voice was just a little too sad, Todd looked down at the bed sheets. He shouldn't be sad! Well, not about Pepito leaving anyway.

Taking a seat on the foot of the bed, Pepito shot the other man a small smile. “Well, I do have a job to do.”

“I know. I just thought...”

“All of the important political infrastructure is based out of New York now, so that's where I need to be.”

Todd nodded. “When are you going?”

“I'm scheduled for sometime tomorrow.”

“Oh. Well...are you going to come back?”

“Of course...eventually.” Pepito paused for a moment, tapping his lip in thought. He was genuinely surprised that the other was taking this so badly. Chances were that he wouldn't be able to make a longer visit for a least a month, and that was if he didn't fall back into the habit of putting it off. “Todd, you know, you could come with me, if you want.”

Todd looked up with wide eyes. “Really? But I thought you didn't trust me.”

“I don't. I can't. Not yet. If you come, you'll have to sign a contract promising not to attempt escape, purposely gather intelligence for the enemy or knowingly converse with the enemy.”

“That...means I can't pray, doesn't it?”

“Yes.” There was yet another awkward pause as Todd looked back down, his expression doubtful and full of mistrust. Pepito crawled a little closer, into the space where Todd's legs would be if he hadn't taken up what was apparently a favorite position with them drawn up against his chest. He took a long twig of dark brown hair between two fingers to give in a gentle pull, deciding that he kind of liked it now that it was clean, though shorter would probably be better...more Squee-like. “Why do you do it?

The other man shook his head, freeing his hair in the process, but gave no reply.

Pepito sat back down, still in the new spot, with one leg hanging off the bed and the other propped up on the mattress so that he could rest an elbow on his knee, now determined to make some type of progress before he had to go. “Come on, Todd. I'm not trying to be an asshole. I really want to know. Please.”

“Honestly?” Todd took a deep breath, letting it back out slowly before meeting Pepito's gaze again. This was probably another verbal battle just waiting to happen, but he did sound earnest.“I guess I just really need someone to talk to, to feel just a little less alone, even if they never talk back.”

“Never?”

“Well, not literally. Sometimes, it feels almost like there's a presence...like someone is listening...”

Pepito leaned his head sideways into his hand, giving the other a small apologetic smile. “Sorry about that.”

Todd rolled his eyes, but still laughed along at the unexpected, lighthearted moment. “I mean someone besides the eavesdropping person at the door.” He shrugged. “Then sometimes it just feels like I'm talking to myself, but that's still helpful...better than nothing. I guess if you want the short answer, it helps manage the stress...kind of like how I used to talk to Shmee before...before he stopped talking. I don't do it to 'conspire' against you.”

“I see.”

“You think that it makes me weak.”

“I think...humans weren't meant to be as mentally closed off from others as you've been, and under...extreme circumstances, copping mechanisms are...understandable. But they're like crutches, you know. They're good when you need them, but if you use them when you don't, then you'll have problems walking on your own for the rest of your life. Religion is kind of like that with thinking. You need to be able to think for yourself.”

“Pep, I do think for myself.” Todd gave him an incredulous look, though he had to admit that he was pleasantly surprised that the son of Satan was actually trying not to offend him. “ And the last time I checked, you were the head of a religion.”

“Not exactly the head. And Satanism doesn't tell people what to think. It teaches them how to think.”

“And what not to think.”

Pepito shrugged. “Only if you're counting the masses of marked citizens as members, which I don't. Most humans are always going to need to be spoon feed ideological baby food because they're naturally followers, but those kind of people don't get initiated. You know that.”

“And you don't think anything is wrong with stringing all those people along?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“The masses will always be lead mindlessly by someone or something, so it might as well be me. You know how they are. They're incapable of truly engaging. That's why you feel so isolated, in a crowded room even more than when there's no one else. Am I right?”

“I...guess.” He let out a long sigh. “Yes.” That was one of the reasons that his friendship with Pepito had always been so important.

“Todd...you know, if you need someone to talk to, or just someone to listen, you can talk to me. You won't get in trouble for anything you say and I won't repeat to anyone else.”

A small burst of half sarcastic laugher escaped him. “Oh, that was real subtle.”

“What?” A dark brow rose.

“The 'don't pray to God, pray to me cause I'll talk back...or more like scream and lecture you back...thing.'”

“That's not what I meant...well, the talking back part kind of was...and the part where I'm actually listening instead of ignoring you while I sleep off a centuries old hangover like a macrocosm of your sorry ass parents.” Pepito sighed a little irritably, but manage to keep himself under control. “Sometimes I almost think that you try my patience on purpose.”

“Maybe sometimes I do.”

“Why?”

“Because if I don't, everything you do and say feels plastic. It's like I have to make you mad to make you really react now, even if it's negatively. It's a little like those people in the crowded room, except there's an 'on' switch...but you're at your own risk of being electrocuted.” Todd let out another deep breath when Pepito remained in silence. “You wanted me to talk, right?”

“Yeah. I did. I do. I guess, with all of the roles that I'm always playing with the world, with the covens, the masses...I just get stuck on auto sometimes.”

Todd smiled sadly. “Most of the time.”

“Most of the time.” Pepito nodded, more disturbed by this that he was willing to let on. It seemed like he was always faking something for one reason or another. He hadn't just kicked back and been himself in so long that he was a little unsure of who 'himself' really was at this point.

“And you think that my praying or talking to myself is worse than that?” Todd posed the question as delicately as he could, not wanted to disrupt their first real, nonargumentative conversation in many years.

“...I don't know. Maybe we both need someone to talk honestly with.” Pepito looked up, surprised to see Todd's hand actually laying purposefully upon his own. It was the first contact that the other man had personally initiated since he had been found.

“I'm listening.”

END CHAPTER!

Notes:

-"Satanism doesn't tell people what to think. It teaches them how to think.” It seems like this is a direct quote (or pretty close to one) from the COS...but it's been a few years now since I read it, so hard to be 100% sure.

Pepito, Squee and all other Jv characters belong not to me! I make no monies off of their awsomeness. And I don't own Karl Rove either...