Agalon had to be in a particularly good mood, because the entire bed was moving, and had Xaxac not had the good sense to put a pillow between his head and the heavy wooden headboard, he likely would have cracked his skull open with the force of it.

As it was, he was thoroughly enjoying himself. He had gotten better about not thinking about things, but even still, he sometimes thought, after Alex and Wyatt, that Agalon’s constant complaining about his age may come from a place of truth; that his back really hurt, his knees really hurt, and that pain limited his mobility. But if that was usually true, for whatever reason, it apparently wasn’t tonight, because he had strength and stamina that reminded Xaxac of Wyatt, and enthusiasm that reminded him of Alex.

Xac was lying on his back, but Agalon had bent him nearly in half and was holding him up by the thighs as Xaxac used every ounce of his civility to keep his tongue in his mouth because he was afraid it would loll out and leave him panting like a dog, which was a facial expression he thought was more ‘stupid’ than ‘cute’ but as each bolt of white hot pleasure moved through him he found he cared less and less about his appearance.

“You’re still a cute little bunny,” Agalon said with a sparkle in his eye that Xac loved, “even like this, you know that? Without the makeup, without them pretty clothes, you’re still-”

“Aggie I can’t,” Xaxac panted, “Think. My brain don’t work when I feel this good. I dunno whatcha said. I’m sorry-”

“That’s alright, Honey Bunny,” Agalon laughed, picked up the pace, and let go of his thighs to lean down and allow Xaxac to cuddle into him, to wrap him up completely as he threw his legs around his hips and dug his nails into his back.

Agalon hissed.

“Sorry!” Xac begged, “I can’t remember the last time I-’

“Don’t worry about it,” Agalon snarled and grabbed a handful of hair so hard he dug into Xac’s scalp to pull his head back, earning him a shriek of pleasure as Xaxac forgot he had once possessed the capacity for language.

Xaxac had forgotten a lot of things. He had forgotten that he had, once, had a sense of darkness that hung over him when he had sex. He had forgotten that he had, once, had a family that he loved, parents that had wanted him to be happy and a sister who was building a new family of her own. He had forgotten the way The Viper looked with half his skull missing and the strange mixture of fluids that Xaxac didn’t understand in its place. He had forgotten that he had once been locked in this very room; he had forgotten how many tiles were on the ceiling. He had forgotten that Billy was a patchwork of stitched-together flesh that may or may not survive if Agalon took very good care of him. He had forgotten that Jimmy had gone to the Military Academy with Lorsan, and he would not be here when Alley had their baby. He had forgotten everything Takashito had said about humans and learning and magic and fighting. He had forgotten that the moons, every so often, got full, and when they did he would become a monster. He had forgotten what it was like to be able to smell everything, hear everything, see everything, even behind him and to the sides. He had forgotten how badly he had wanted another drink, because he was rapidly approaching sobriety.

Right now there was only the sensation, the pleasure, and he was allowed to enjoy it; he was allowed to be happy for a few minutes.

He screamed when he came, buried his face in Agalon’s chest and his nails into his back, and felt the flesh tear. Agalon hissed in pain, but he seemed to like it, and Xaxac understood that, thought maybe he understood better than most people. He wondered if, for a few minutes, with him, Agalon didn’t forget all about his whole district he had to run, his son who he was worried about, all the people he had to take care of, the horrible memories he had when his eyes would glaze over and he would look far away, and all the other things he didn’t tell Xaxac because he knew Xaxac could not understand them. Maybe, he was also allowed to enjoy himself; maybe he was also allowed to be happy for a few minutes.

Reality slammed back into Xaxac all at once and he fell back against the softness of the mattress to arch up and give Agalon a better angle so he could finish. It occurred to him that they had just taken a bath, and he wished they had done this in the other order. He would feel cleaner with a full bath than he would just washing up at the basin, and he hadn’t even had a full day to feel fully clean.

“Aggie?” He whined, “How come you didn’t fuck me in the bath?”

“Yeah,” Agalon snarled, “You’ve been waitin, Honey Bunny? You didn’t say nothin. I don’t know what’cha want if you don’t tell me.”

“I always want you to fuck me,” Xaxac whined, “God, it feels so good… it’s the only time I really… feel alive…”

But that wasn’t true, and he knew instantly that he had lied. He had felt something very much like this, when the crowd had erupted after his victory, when they were screaming his name.

“That’s because you was made to be a pleasure slave,” Agalon explained, “My needy little bunny- you’re perfect.”

He stilled above him, but thrashed inside of him, and Xac cried out again at the feeling. He never seemed to get used to it, and he loved it, almost as much as he enjoyed his own orgasm. It made him feel useful, needed, maybe even loved; something he rarely felt anymore. He wasn’t particularly useful. Pretty little things seemed not to have much utility.

He was so tired, but he didn’t want this to end, and held Agalon as he tried to pull away, pull out.

“We gotta get cleaned up, darlin,” Agalon explained, and it was so practical and true there was no arguing with it.

But he felt empty.

“Aggie, can I have a drink?” Xaxac asked as he took the towel Agalon had offered, then sat up to feel the odd, but familiar sensation of having the fluids Agalon had deposited leak out of him. That was not his favorite part and he sighed as he attempted to clean himself.

“Of course, darlin,” Agalon smiled, bent to kiss him on the forehead, and whistled as he made his way into the sitting room.

Xaxac jumped from the bed and made his way to the wardrobe, threw it open, scooted back the clothes, and tried desperately to memorize the symbols he had written there. He stood back and let the clothes fall into place before Agalon came back into the room.

“Aggie?” he begged, “Tomorrow can I wear somethin old? Somethin I can get dirty? I don’t like messing up my good clothes outside.”

“That’s cute,” Agalon smiled as he offered Xac his glass, “I can buy ya new clothes, darlin.”

“Can I, though?” Xac begged, “Then I can change when I get back to the house.”

“If you want,” Agalon shrugged.

“Thanks, Aggie!” Xac wrapped his arms around him, squeezed, and snuggled into his chest.

“Come on, darlin,” Agalon kissed the top of his head, “Let’s head to bed.”

“I came so far,” Lapus said, “I thought… I thought it would matter, you know?”

“Not really,” Xac said, sitting in the darkness, taking in the nothing around him.

“It’s just another cave,” Lapus laughed, “Just another cave. We trapped them in a terrarium, didn’t we? At the end of the day? Is that what you said?”

“I said a greenhouse,” Xaxac corrected.

“Right!” Lapus said, “A greenhouse. We trapped them in a greenhouse!”

“Are you alright, Lappy?” Xac asked, and moved to gently rub his back.

“No, I never meant… I didn’t think… But that’s… how it is, isn’t it? There was never going to- we were never going to- be able to control it. That was never going to happen. Morgani knew that.”

“Control what?” Xaxac asked, “The terrarium? I mean… the greenhouse?”

Then he was standing, looking at something he did not understand, at words, numbers, symbols, all of them strange, all of them squiggles, all of them moving too quickly- something was clearly wrong.

He was not standing, he was floating. And he was looking out over the world as if he was looking at a map, but he knew he was not, he was gazing at all of Xren through the eyes of a god.

The symbols meant something, the words meant something, the numbers meant something. They were moving too fast.

“What’s up, doc?” Morgani asked.

“What are you doing up here?” Xaxac asked, reached into the void, and touched the nothing to alert the others, “Morgani Magnus is in-”

Then Morgani reached into the nothing himself, pulled out a whip and cracked it against the nothing that was Xaxac, and he felt pain, but did not understand it, because it had been so long since the last time he had felt it.

“Morgani what’s…” He asked, “Why?”

Xaxac saw a familiar face reflected in those eyes, the color of the void between the stars. Morgani cracked the whip again and Xaxac felt another bolt of pain.

“Because you know what you’re doing,” he explained, “they don’t. And,” he shrugged and began to rip at the nothing that Xac was made of, began clawing at him, “Because you’re the weakest! You’re the easiest!”

“I don’t understand!” Xac begged, “Stop it! Tell me what’s wrong!”

He had to fight back, but he had never fought. He did not know how. So he did the only thing he could think of.

“Please!” he begged, “Help me! Help me!”

But it was no use. The world around him flickered, and all light seemed to go out, the world turned to silence, as the demon clawed out his heart.

Darkness.

Silence.

“Morgani?” Xaxac tried to sit up, but he was nothing, floating in nothing, and he had no body to sit with. “Morgani?”

He would have cried, but he had no eyes, no tear ducts, and, he was fairly sure, no voice with which to shout. He could only think, but he thought with all his might.

“Morgani, please!” he begged, “Please! Let me out!”

“No!” Morgani snarled, and it came from everywhere at once, but Xaxac thought he saw something, flickering, shining, in the nothing. He tried to race toward it, but he did not know how to move in the nothing.

“Please!” He begged.

“You did this,” the demon explained with rage in his voice, “You trapped me! What were you going to do to them?”

“Who?” He asked, struggling to make it to the light in the nothing.

“All of them,” Morgani said as if he thought Xaxac was being obtuse on purpose, “All of the others. The ones who belong here. This is their world, not ours.”

“You’re right,” Xaxac said, “You’re right.”

“Now you’re gonna sit here for a few eons,” Morgani said, “And think about what you did.”

“What?” Xac shrieked. “No! No, Morgani! Morgani, let me out! You’re right! I can help you! Let me out! Please! Where am I? Please! Let me out!”

“I used to want you dead,” Morgani laughed, “But after I lost everything… after I lost… after everything that’s happened… I don’t care anymore. I don’t care if I can kill you. Now I only want you gone.”

“Morgani, please!”

“Goodbye,” Morgani said, “Master.”

Xaxac had somehow made it to the light. It had never gotten any bigger. It was a tiny crystal, floating in the nothing, and he grabbed at it with every fiber of his non-existent being.

“Morgani!” he begged, “Please! I’m sorry! I never meant to hurt you! Please! You’re right!”

He looked through the tiny crystal, and looked into another world. The room was dark, but he could see in the darkness, unlike in the nothing. He had never seen a room like it before, yet somehow instinctively knew it was a storeroom, full of other things. But no living thing dwelt there.

“Morgani, please!” he begged, “Let me out! Please!”

But there was no one to hear him, even if he had had a voice to scream.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think,” Lapus said, and Xac turned to him to alleviate the panic. “And he’s right, you know. He was right then, and he’s right now. We had no right to do this. This was never our world, Xac. It’s yours. I want to give it back to you.”

Then he pulled him into a kiss.