Chapter Text
but I have promises to keep
and miles to go before I sleep
He can’t get out.
Half-conscious, the taste of iron in the back of his throat, Suzaku gazes up at the roof of the crumpled cockpit. There is no light aside from the emergency bulb just above the dashboard, bathing the innards of the twisted metal box in red. He doesn’t know where the hell he is, exactly where the Lancelot’s inner core landed after ejecting. He doesn’t know how long it’s been, if anyone is coming. He doesn’t know how long he was unconscious. All he knows right now is that the hatch is buckled, warped from the heat, and won’t open.
This was always the plan. Let Kallen win. Don’t make it easy, put up a good fight, but at the last moment, let her beat you. Blow up the Lancelot and eject. Stay there until someone comes for you. Leave everything else to me.
These are not the words that he hears in his head now. Every time he lies back, thinks about succumbing to the pain and the thirst and the darkness, he hears Lelouch’s order, his brain rewiring into Survival mode. Time and time again, exhausted, he pushes himself up and wrenches on the handle until he can’t a moment longer. It would be better to just wait, conserve his energy, but Lelouch’s command won’t let him rest. He knows he’s bleeding somewhere, feeling it pool stickily beneath him, disturbed every time he struggles. If nobody comes, he’ll die in here, Lelouch’s command be damned.
A fitting coffin for him indeed.
Eventually he feels movement. Maybe it’s days later. He has no way of knowing. The voices beyond the crushed cockpit are muffled, as is the screech of metal on metal. They don’t open it here. He assumes it’s whoever Lelouch sent to retrieve him but of course he has no way of confirming, imprisoned in his makeshift tomb. He assumes they won. He has faith - but, for a split second, the doubt clouds over and Lelouch’s command rallies him a final time, forcing a frenzied assault on the door. Let me out! I have to get out! I need to live!
“He’s alive.” Jeremiah. “I can hear him, Your Majesty.”
Relief. The Geass fades, letting Suzaku sink against the seat once more. He can barely keep his eyes open, the smell of blood suddenly seeming very strong. He can taste it between his teeth. He hears Jeremiah knock on the door to the cockpit.
“We’re moving you. Please be patient.”
Suzaku barely has the energy to lift his head. He knocks once, clumsily, against the side to show he understands. It’ll be alright now. Jeremiah will take him to Lelouch. He lets himself think of their bed, of cool clean sheets and space enough to stretch. How he aches, cold and cramped; how he aches for it, for comfort, for his reward. He’s done all that was asked of him. Well. Almost. That can wait. All he wants now is to see him, to show him that he survived.
He wakes again as the sparks fly, the blade tearing through the crushed metal. Suddenly light floods in, the world bursting through. He shields his face against the burning light, his arm stiff, the bang of the cockpit door shuddering as it hits the ground. Now he is exhumed after so long of lying alone.
“Welcome back, Lord Kururugi,” Jeremiah says, standing over the open cockpit. “Congratulations on your victory.”
“Mm.” Suzaku forces himself to speak, his throat tight and dry. “Where’s Lelouch?”
“I’m here.” Lelouch is on the other side of the torn cockpit. He leans in, stretching his hand out to touch Suzaku’s face. “We did it. We won.”
“Did you… get the FLEIJA trigger?”
“Yes.” Lelouch averts his gaze for a moment. “I… had to use Geass on Nunnally.”
“Oh.” Suzaku shifts, then winces.
Lelouch withdraws his hand. “You’re injured,” he says briskly. He turns to Jeremiah. “He needs medical attention immediately.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” Jeremiah bows his head, striding away.
“I’m fine,” Suzaku insists, pushing himself up. It’s a monumental effort, his body screaming. “J-just tired. How long has it been since our victory?”
“About six hours.” Lelouch frowns as Suzaku hauls himself out of the cockpit. “You’re covered in blood, Suzaku.”
“It’s stopped now,” Suzaku says, steadying himself against the side of the crumpled core. “It’s just a little knock. It was a rough fight. I’m fine.”
“You did well.”
“You gave me an order. I simply obeyed.”
“Still, I knew I could rely on you.”
“Mm.” Suzaku comes to stand beside Lelouch. Together they look down at the remains of the Lancelot, the empty heart, waiting. The blood-stain is in the shape of his body.
“I’ll have Jeremiah destroy it,” Lelouch says after a moment. “We can’t have any loose ends.”
“Aren’t I a loose end?” Suzaku says absently. He knows that this isn’t true, really. His fate is sealed.
“You’re dead now, Suzaku,” Lelouch says. “Just like you always wanted.”
“Where’s C.C.?”
“She hasn’t come back yet.” Lelouch shuts the heavy ornate door behind them. “She fought off Kallen before you got there.”
“Aren’t you worried about her?” Suzaku asks, leaning subtly against the doorframe. He presses his hand to his sticky ribcage, breathing through the pain.
“Not particularly,” Lelouch says, moving away through the vast chamber. “She always comes back. I can rely on her, too. It’s not like she can die, anyway.”
“Mm.” Suzaku exhales, watching him move around the room, his white robes fluttering after him like the chalky wings of a moth. The palace has no shortage of rooms but they share this one, the largest and grandest. The bed, a huge four-poster, calls to him with its siren-song of silk sheets. He just wants to lie down. He starts to move towards it, trying not to draw Lelouch’s attention. He doesn’t want him to see that he’s hurt. It feels like a failing, somehow.
“All that over this,” Lelouch says, picking up the FLEIJA trigger from the desk. He waves it idly, showing it off. “I took it straight from Nunnally’s hands.” He pauses, not looking at Suzaku. “...You knew she was under my father’s Geass, didn’t you?”
“I had a feeling,” Suzaku admits, easing himself onto the edge of the bed. “Just a guess, having seen… what he did to you.”
“Hm.” Lelouch looks down at the trigger a moment longer before putting it down again. “No matter. Everything is settled now, more or less. Schneizel is loyal to Zero. Cornelia and some of the Black Knights escaped but we can soon round them up.”
“Everything went exactly as you planned,” Suzaku says.
“Of course.” Lelouch begins to take off his heavy robes, slipping the cloak from his shoulders. He pauses again. “...I couldn’t have done it without you, Suzaku.”
“I’m your knight,” Suzaku says. “I do as you tell me to.”
“Heh.” Lelouch smirks over his shoulder at him. “You’re very subservient tonight. I’m sure it’s only because you’re absolutely exhausted.”
“Yes,” Suzaku echoes, flopping across the bed. His grateful body sinks into the mattress. “I’m tired. You made me wait a long time, Lelouch.”
“Sorry,” Lelouch teases. “I was a little preoccupied with…” He trails off, coming closer to the bed. “Suzaku…?”
“Mmm?” Suzaku lifts his head to look at him. There are two of him, almost. Drowsily, he takes his hand away from his ribs, gazing at the red. “Oh… it’s probably on the sheets…”
“Fuck the sheets!” Lelouch snaps. “You are injured! What are you lying about it for?”
Suzaku closes his eyes again. “Didn’t want… to worry you…”
He feels the mattress sink beneath Lelouch’s weight as he comes to him; moments later, his cool slender hands begin to undo his uniform, peeling it away from his bloodied skin.
“I’m alright,” Suzaku protests, trying to pull away. “I’m just tired. I-I need to sleep.”
“You can sleep in a minute. Let me clean you up.”
“Is that a-another order?”
Lelouch doesn’t answer, huffing away to the bathroom. Suzaku lies perfectly still, listening to the running water, his chest bare, his wound stinging. Moments later, Lelouch comes back with a wet flannel, bandages and a towel. He sits on the bed and gently cleans the crust of blood away from Suzaku’s wound, dabbing at it with the towel. It hurts a bit and Suzaku makes some attempt to push him away, pressing his hand against him to shove him off - but he’s tired, weak, and he can’t move him.
“Stop, Suzaku.” Lelouch bats his hand away. “Let me bandage it.”
“You… shouldn’t be doing this,” Suzaku mumbles, sitting up to let him begin to wind the bandage around his chest.
“Well, if you’d let the medic look at you like I wanted–”
“I mean you.” Suzaku opens his eyes. “You’re the emperor.”
“I’m your friend.”
“Still.”
“My hands are already bloody,” Lelouch says, shrugging. “What does it matter now?”
Suzaku doesn’t say anything. There’s a red smear on Lelouch’s middle where he put his hand against him. Lelouch pauses, following his gaze down. He rubs at the stain, pressing his fingers together.
“Like I said,” he goes on, “it doesn’t matter. It’ll wash out.” He smiles. “Besides, what sort of emperor would I be if I allow my personal knight to bleed to death in our bed?”
“...Bleed to death?” Suzaku repeats, feeling the order flare up within him, the urge to live that isn’t his.
“Suzaku, you’re fine.” Lelouch sees it, pushes him firmly back down; he leans all the way in, pressing a kiss to his aching forehead. “You’re going to live.”
“Because you say so?”
“Yes.” Lelouch leans back, rinsing out the cloth; he wrings it out and folds it, putting it on Suzaku’s forehead. “...I suppose I still haven’t learnt to watch what I say.”
“It’s not like you can use it on me twice,” Suzaku mumbles, relief seeping into his temples.
“Still,” Lelouch sighs, “seems like it takes very little to rouse that order in you - these days, anyway.” He shrugs. “...Maybe that’s because of the situations I’ve been putting you in.”
“Is it… really over?”
“For now. Kururugi Suzaku has played his part.” Lelouch gets up, taking the bloodied towel with him. “You can rest.”
Suzaku turns his head to watch him walk away, his robes trailing after him. From behind, he can’t see the stain.
He sleeps, or something like it, heaviness settling in him, feverish; and wakes again sometime later with the flannel cold and damp against his cheek. It’s dark and Lelouch is behind him, too quiet to be asleep. Suzaku turns over, taking the pain with him. He’s in just his underwear beneath the sheets, realises that Lelouch must have stripped him of the rest of his uniform, which can’t have been easy.
Lelouch is looking right at him. Without his contacts, his eyes blaze an unholy bloodied red, the colour of the emergency light. Suzaku is long past the urge to avert his gaze. The damage is definitely done.
“Can’t sleep?” Lelouch asks softly. “Thought you were tired.”
“I am,” Suzaku says.
“Mm.” Lelouch closes his eyes, plunging the room into pitch. “Me too.” Suzaku can hear his grin. “Must be our guilty consciences.”
“Don’t joke about that.”
“Who’s joking? How many died at our hands today, Suzaku? Too many to count, I’m sure.”
“Yes,” Suzaku says absently. He doesn’t feel anything at all. “Too many.”
“Did you kill the Knights of Round?”
“...Most of them.”
“Thought you might.”
“They said they would never accept you as emperor.”
“We knew that going in.” Lelouch laughs again. “Don’t act like you did it for me - defending my honour.”
“It was my duty as your knight, Your Majesty.” Suzaku reaches for him, fiercely pulling him close.
“Okay.” Lelouch settles against him. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Lord Kururugi.”
It doesn’t. Neither of them says it. Suzaku sighs into Lelouch’s slender neck, their legs tangling. Lelouch wears an old T-shirt of Suzaku’s to bed, soft and thin, reduced to almost nothing without his costumes - Emperor, Zero. It smells like yesterday and they can almost forget. Tomorrow they’ll wake up at Ashford Academy, won’t they, and it will all have been a dream. Shirley will be alive - and so will Princess Euphemia. Nunnally will smile the way she’s supposed to. Of course that’s how it will be. The alternative is that two teenaged boys have the world at their mercy. That’s crazy, isn’t it.
Isn’t it.
They are tired, flooded with victory, their eyes burning like remembrance candles, and yet they do not sleep easily. This is their bed, blood-stained, bridal or death, just how they’ve made it. Now they must lie in it. They can’t get out anymore.
C.C. comes back in the morning. Her clothes are torn and bloodied but she is unscathed, just as Suzaku expected her to be. She walks right into their room, the only person who would even dare, and flops on the end of the bed. Suzaku stares her down because he’s the only one awake. Lelouch is still asleep - C.C.’s golden eyes search his peaceful face for a moment before going back to Suzaku.
“Blood,” she says.
“What?” Suzaku retorts.
“Here. On the sheets.” C.C. rubs at the rust-coloured stain. “You were injured in battle.”
“Presumptuous,” Suzaku says coolly.
“I know it wasn’t Lelouch,” C.C. replies. “You were the one fighting Kallen Kouzuki.”
“So were you.” Suzaku finds himself saying this very coldly, looking away.
“Yes,” C.C. agrees. “That’s how I know.”
“...You were injured, too?”
“Killed,” C.C. says. She smiles, pretty and catlike. “That’s why it took me so long to come back. I’m alright now. Thank you for asking.”
“S-sorry, I…” Suzaku exhales, looking at the drapes. There’s not much he can say to that. “I’m glad you’re… you’re alright.”
“I’ll live,” C.C. says. She sits up, moving up the bed. She settles herself on the other side of Lelouch. For a long moment, she and Suzaku lie in silence, straight stoic pillars either side of him. They have a profound envy of one another that isn’t bitter. It comes from understanding.
Then C.C. rolls over and prods Lelouch in the cheek, waking him.
“Oww, Suzaku, don’t…” Lelouch grumbles, ducking beneath the sheets.
“It’s me.” C.C. drags him out again by the hair. “You didn’t send anyone to get me, Lelouch.”
“I knew you’d be fine.” Lelouch opens his eyes, pulling away from her. “See? Here you are.”
“I died,” C.C. says haughtily.
“You’re always dying.” Lelouch turns away from her, burying his face in Suzaku’s chest. “I told you to leave fighting Kallen to Suzaku. I can’t do anything about your selfish whims.”
“You were being much nicer to me yesterday,” C.C. says boredly. “I’m angry with you, Lelouch.”
“I don’t care.”
C.C. puts her head in the crook of Lelouch’s neck and he, irritated with her closeness, opens his eyes once more. Suzaku looks down at them: a two-headed beast marked by Geass. C.C. moves a little, getting more comfortable, and her fringe parts to show the stain on her forehead.
Who is he to feel disgusted? He’s just as stained as them, the Geass command rooted deep inside his core. Lelouch’s order was reckless; now Suzaku will have to live with it. Truly, he is no different to them - but still, somehow, seeing them together, twin-headed, C.C seeping into him until there’s nothing left…
“I-I should get up.” Suzaku pulls away, sliding out of the bed. The pain in his side is still sharp, aching when he breathes. The bandage is stiff with dried blood.
“Actually, I’m the one who needs to get up.” Lelouch pushes C.C. off, sitting up. “I have to formally announce your death, Suzaku.”
“Do you?” Suzaku says absently. He knew this, he supposes.
“Yes. The Zero Requiem’s success hinges upon Zero’s total anonymity. Nobody can know that it’s you under the mask.” Lelouch stretches, righting Suzaku’s worn-out T-shirt on his slender shoulders. The words sound weird coming out of his mouth when he looks so… normal. “So,” he goes on, stifling a yawn, “I’ll make a formal announcement, maybe swear revenge on the murderer of my personal knight. Once we’ve finished rounding up the Black Knights, it’ll be a good excuse to execute them.”
“You’re pinning it on Kallen?” Suzaku mumbles.
“I have to, don’t I? She’s the only one capable of killing you. Well. She would be, if–”
“Yeah,” Suzaku interrupts. “You don’t need to say it.” He shuffles away to the bathroom, his nails scraping on the hardened rust.
“She killed me,” C.C. says airily, leaning back against the headboard. “You don’t even care, do you?”
“C.C., don’t you ever get tired of stirring shit?” Lelouch snaps.
“Oh, Lelouch,” C.C. says, closing her eyes. “I’m always tired.”
Suzaku stares at his mouth. The sound is off and he doesn’t know what he’s saying, precisely, but he gets the gist. He doesn’t want to hear it.
“Shame you can’t mute him in real life.”
Suzaku turns his head. C.C. is in the doorway, freshly-bathed and in clean clothes. She’s carrying a small white box.
“I’m sure that’s probably a Geass power, right?” Suzaku says, turning away once more. He looks at Lelouch, at his mouth as he speaks but no sound comes out, his orders rendered useless.
“I suppose it must be,” C.C. agrees, approaching him. “Not one I’ve ever given - but someone, somewhere, I’m sure.”
“How many Geasses have you given?” Suzaku asks. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t really want to hear the answer.
“I don’t know,” C.C. says, to his relief. “I don’t keep track. I’ve been alive so long, I’ve known so many people…”
“Mm.” Suzaku’s gaze moves to Lelouch’s eyes. Violet. Contacts. Only he and C.C. can look at him without.
C.C. comes to him, kneeling down next to his chair. She puts the box on the floor and opens it up. It’s a first aid kit, properly-stocked.
“What’s that for?”
“For you.” C.C. begins to go through it, taking out what she needs. “You’re injured. Lelouch said he cleaned the wound but I wouldn’t say that sort of thing is his forte. I know what I’m doing.”
Suzaku feels defensive, shrinking back. “I-I’m fine, really. It’s not that bad–”
“I’m sure it isn’t,” C.C. agrees, “but you don’t want an infection. Let me see.”
Suzaku scowls. “Did he ask you to do this?”
“No. I doubt you getting an infection is even on his mind right now. He’s got other things to think about.” C.C. pours antiseptic onto a cloth, the sudden stink of alcohol filling the room. “Take off your shirt.”
Suzaku can see no point in arguing with her. She’s pragmatic, if nothing else. He undoes the buttons of his shirt and lets it drop, revealing the new bandage he let Lelouch put on him this morning. C.C. takes out the pin, unwinding it. Suzaku hisses as cool air stings the wound, biting his lip as C.C. inspects it.
“It’s hardly life-threatening,” she agrees, beginning to wipe it down, “but you need to keep it clean.”
“I know that.” Suzaku grips the arm of the chair - as if the mild sting hurts any worse than the battle. “...Are you really angry with him?” He asks this more as a distraction.
“No,” C.C. says flatly. “I was just trying to get a reaction. He doesn’t pay much mind to what I say anymore. I suppose he’s used to me by now.”
“He sent Jeremiah to get me.” Suzaku doesn’t know why he feels the need to say this. He doesn’t have to compete with C.C. - not like… well, that. Lelouch plays his pieces very carefully.
“Of course he did,” C.C. says, applying a little more antiseptic. “You’re not immortal. Dying is nothing to me.”
“I thought he’d hurt your feelings,” Suzaku mumbles.
“I don’t have any feelings,” C.C. retorts.
“Yeah, yeah.” Suzaku exhales. The wound aches when he breathes out. He wants to ask her how many times she’s died but he knows that’s definitely a step too far. “Well, you are his accomplice, after all.”
“I think you’re his accomplice now, Suzaku.”
“Oh, you have no part in it?”
C.C. shrugs. “When you’ve been around as long as I have, you get very good at washing your hands of things.” She tilts her head. “As you saw.”
Yes, Suzaku did see - how easily C.C. turned her back on Marianne, on Charles, on their shared wish. Geass doesn’t work on her, after all.
Suzaku falls silent once more as she works. He looks over the crown of her head at the screen, reading the text moving along the bottom.
BREAKING: 99th Emperor of Britannia, His Majesty Lelouch vi Britannia, announces death of Knight of Zero, Suzaku Kururugi. Kururugi was killed in action during yesterday’s decisive battle. Many members of the rebel faction Black Knights remain unaccounted for.
“Looks like it’s official,” C.C. says softly, following his gaze. “Lucky you.”
“There’s no going back now,” Suzaku agrees. He sucks in a breath as C.C. presses a clean cotton pad to the wound. Something something irony.
C.C. is quiet as she takes a new bandage from its package and wraps his wound, securing it over his shoulder. Overall, it’s a better job than Lelouch did. When she’s finished, she repacks the box very carefully. Suzaku buttons his shirt back up, watching the screen. The press conference is nearly over, cameras zooming out. Milly is reporting from an overlooking balcony. She looks absolutely heartbroken. The word ‘execution’ floats by beneath her.
“Do you hate me?” C.C. asks suddenly.
Suzaku blinks at her, finally tearing his eyes away from the screen. “What?”
“I asked if you hate me,” C.C. repeats. She looks up at him, her face neutral, serious. “You could have had a normal life, both of you, if I hadn’t given Lelouch Geass that day.”
Suzaku exhales. He’s thought about this before. There have been times when he has resented her, even despised her. After all, nobody knows better than she the dangers of Geass, the true extent of its power. To freely give such a weapon not once but many times… isn’t that irresponsible, if nothing else?
But. He understands better now. They’ve all made their choices.
“I don’t hate you,” he says. “We all chose to move forward in the World of C. Even you, after all you’ve done, chose that.”
“Yes,” C.C. says. “...I asked him the same question yesterday. He gave me the same answer. He said he didn’t hate me. His choices are his own.”
“That’s true,” Suzaku says.
“But yours aren’t,” C.C. says. “At least, not all of them - not anymore, because of what his Geass did to you.” Her golden eyes are big and unblinking, cold as coins. “You are the one who hasn’t really been given a choice in this. That’s why I wondered.”
Suzaku looks at the screen again. Lelouch is gone; the podium is empty. A few reporters discuss what has just happened, what has just been said. He sees his name on their lips - he can tell even without sound, watching them trip over the vowels in his surname. A fitting end for the son of Japan’s last prime minister. That was his choice, at least.
“I don’t hate you, C.C.,” he says again. “There’s no point now.”
“Hm.” C.C. smiles, rocking her weight against his knee, pressing her cheek to the bone. “I just wondered.”
“Do you think we should hate you?” Suzaku asks. “Do you think you deserve it?”
“I’ve seen enough to know that people in this world don’t always get what they deserve,” C.C. replies. “I was just thinking about blame. How easy it is. That’s what Lelouch is relying on. He wants to be hated.”
“Not by us,” Suzaku says. He understands this now, too. “He needs us.”
“His sword and his shield,” C.C. agrees gently. “You are his victim - and he is mine.”