Title|Three Sides to the Coin
Part|sixb/seven
Part Title|Trying
Authour : ~sushisama~ (sbolce@esper.com)
Warnings|DilandauxVan implications.  FolkenxDilandau angst/fluff.  Yaya!
Disclaimer|First.  Part.
Notes|Only one more part left!  *weep*  And that one’s a lemon.  That sucks.  Ohwell.  I hope this part makes up for the lack of substance in the last one.  See, I actually put thought into this one.  So, yeah, squee.  Read and review, and enjoy!

/ / = thoughts     [ ] = dreams     ( ) = flashbacks

::*~~*::

            Dilandau was feeling empty.  He was wrong...  so horribly wrong...  He couldn’t be with anyone else. 
            Every part of him was yelling at him, telling him what he had just done was betraying Folken.  But Folken had said that he wanted nothing to do with the child unless he could admit his feelings.  He wasn’t betraying Folken; Folken had betrayed him.
            / I’m lying to myself, though, / Dilandau thought bitterly.  / I still want him.  Want to be with him.  All I have to do is say that I... I... /
            “No,” the pyro hissed to himself as he walked quietly down the hall to his chamber.  “I will not say it.  Because I do not mean it.  I do not care for him in such a manner.”
            / ..liar, / some wretched voice in the back of his mind said. 
            “Shut-up, shut-up...”  Dilandau found himself in front of his door.  He stopped and stared at it, wondering what he should do.  He had not been back for two days.  He had gone to see Van and then... he just didn’t come back up until tonight.  What time was it?  It had to be near two in the morning.
            Dilandau’s thoughts kept recycling themselves over and over.  He would think of the other night with Folken, his final confrontation with the commander.  Which would lead to thinking about what all he had said, all he had done.  Folken’s words seeped into his mind, making him question his decision on what to say to the Strategos.  When he thought of that, it would lead to thinking that he might actually... care... about him. 
            His pride would only let him go to the ‘possibility’ of ‘caring’ for the Strategos.  The other direction... ‘love’, he would not go towards.  His pride would just not allow it. Which was probably why he was the one at fault, not Folken.  He wouldn’t let himself open up to the fact that he might-
            / Enough. /  He rubbed his temple, as though he had a headache. 
            Whenever he thought of what this all might mean to him, he’d then think of a way to prove it wrong.  Like, fucking Van.  That seemed to have back-fired on him, though.  Now he didn’t know what to do, or what to think. 
            Dilandau leaned heavily against his door, suddenly feeling tired.  He was lacking that last bit of strength to open the door and go through, to collapse on his bed.  He had done nothing but wander around for the past two days, and was feeling mentally and physically exhausted.
            “What am I going to do...?”
            “Where have you been?” a voice drawled behind him.
            Dilandau looked up to lock eyes with the dark and stoic ones of the last person he wanted to see right now.  He smirked, trying to force himself to display his normal ‘bad-boy’ attitude, but it was lost.  “Folken...”
            The Strategos didn’t even try to hide his concern.  “Dilandau, you really should-“
            “Just,” Dilandau interrupted, rubbing his temples again, “just fuck off.  I don’t want to see you right now.”
            / Liar, / that voice called again.
            Folken stood silently before the child for a moment, not making any motion to leave.  It was starting to bother Dilandau.  Why wouldn’t the man just leave him alone?  Nothing he did was going to change what had happened between them.  Nothing.
            Dilandau slid down the door until he was sitting.  His head was hung so he would not have to look into the dark and soulless eyes of Folken.  “Just go away...”
            “Dilandau, this isn’t about-“
            “Go away,” the child growled, standing up suddenly.  “Or do you not understand?”  His eyes took a hard expression as they focused on Folken’s.  “Is it unusual for you to be on the rejected side, Folken?  Is it painful?”
            Folken stayed silent under the youth’s glare.  “It would be painful either way,” he stated.
            Dilandau let out a frustrated scream.  “Then why...!?  Damn it, Folken!”  He gripped his hair violently.  “Don’t do this!  Don’t say shit like that but still keep a straight face at the same time!”  His hand gripped the hilt of his sword.  “God, I hate you, Strategos.  Everything that you’ve done to me, I hate.  I hate the way you treat me, the way you tease me.”
            His sword was drawn with the skill and grace that Folken would only expect from the child.  He had little time to admire, though – he was some-what startled by the child’s unspoken threat and took a subconscious step backwards.
            “Dilandau,” Folken nearly pleaded, wanting to stop him from doing something rash and painful.
            But Dilandau went on as if he hadn’t heard the man.  “I hate the way I feel towards you, I hate just wanted you, I hate the fact that I can’t fuck someone else without feeling I’ve betrayed you, the guilt I feel afterwards.”  Dilandau stepped closer to him, sword outstretched.  Folken had no where to go but backwards, which wasn’t far, for they were in a small dead-ended hall.  The tip of the blade was right over Folken’s heart.
            “I shouldn’t be guilty, Folken,” the Dragonslayer continued, his voice becoming hoarse.  The blade shook in his hand as he went on, “I shouldn’t even care, but I do, and I despise this feeling.  And, instead of making it go away like I hoped you would, you made it worse by leaving me.  Because I won’t say something, because I can’t tell you how I feel.” 
            He paused, making sure his eyes were still locked with the commander’s.  Folken was perfectly still, only looking some-what nervous.  / Good-fucking-mask, if you ask me.  If it were me, I’d be a little more terrified... /
            “And I hate it.  All of it.”  Dilandau’s voice started to die, as he felt himself weakening.  He felt like he was about to cry, being torn so badly from all of this.  “I hate you.  The way I feel.  I hate the fact that I..  I...”  He choked back a sob, knowing what he wanted to say, but not exactly how to say it without going insane.  He could no longer hold back his tears though, as he felt one slide down his cheek.  “That I...  I...”
            Folken reached out his hand and grasped the child’s wrist, to which Dilandau instantly let go of the sword and dropped it, making a clanking sound as it connected with the floor.  He pulled him close, wrapping his hands around the broken boy.
            Dilandau buried his head into the commander’s chest.  “I...”  He sniffed, feeling the tears coming despite his protests.  “I can’t say it, Folken.  I can’t tell you what you want to hear...”
            “Would you only say it to make me happy, Dilandau?” Folken whispered as he gently stroked his back with his flesh arm.
            Dilandau did not answer at first, merely sobbing into the man’s chest.  When he did not say anything for a lengthy amount of time, Folken said, “Well, I can’t stop you from hating me.  And I can’t stop you from loving me, either.  I can only make it better.  Maybe make you stop hating it...”
            Dilandau snuggled into the warmth beneath him.  “I could...  I can try.”
            Folken smiled weakly.  “That’s all I ask for, Dilandau.  Just try.”  He kissed the top of his head affectionately.
            The teen felt himself starting to slip away.  The sleepiness he had felt before was coming back to him with full force.  He closed his eyes, leaning heavily on the Strategos.  He felt some-what assured now.  He didn’t have to actually admit anything, but he had gotten his feelings off his chest.  And with that came welcoming results...
            After a few moments of complete silence, Folken looked down at the body in his arms, bringing a small smirk to his lips.  Dilandau had fallen asleep. 
            He cradled the child’s head in his flesh arm as he leaned him back a bit and bent down, so he could put his right arm under Dilandau’s legs and pick him up.  He carried him to the door and opened it, bringing the child inside of his room.  He gently set him on the bed.
            He stared down at the sleeping form, smiling.  This wasn’t... exactly what he wanted, but closer than he had been.  Maybe he could, one day, get Dilandau to voice his real feelings out loud.  But that could wait.  He was just happy with the little he had said tonight.  He gentle kissed Dilandau on the lips, murmuring, “Sleep well, love.  I’ll be here when you wake up.”