Reprieve

Title: Reprieve
Author: Eumenides (flowerofsin)
Pairing: Nnoitra/Neliel
Rating: PG
Word Count: 592
Warnings: mild spoilers for 313
Summary: When Nnoitra thinks it's finally over, he realizes that everything has just begun.


His body heavy and aching, Nnoitra made his way back to consciousness. He soon realized that he was now lying on his back in the blood-soaked sand. He cracked his eye open to gaze up at the sky, rolling clouds shifting due to the wind. On the periphery of his vision, he noticed a blur of green. Turning his head toward it, his vision resolved on the childlike form of Nel. The expression on her face irritated him to no end. A child looking so sad, apparently for his sake.

“Nnoitra,” the girl said, wearing a worried expression.

The Espada frowned, realizing what had occurred. He'd almost forgotten about the woman's healing powers. Being rendered a child apparently hadn't affected them much. He tried to push himself up, feeling a need to get away from the girl and that look on her face, but shooting pain had him collapsing on his back once more.

“Damn it!” he cursed, unsure if he was angry at himself for being so weak that he could barely move, or at her for saving him from his fate. Nnoitra glared at the child, who reeked of concern, moving toward him to place a hand gently on his head. He wanted to bat it away, but he hadn't the strength. Clenching a fist, he suffered the tenderness of the gesture just as he suffered the child's concerned gaze.

Nnoitra startled somewhat at that hand gaining weight, the body stretching, hair lengthening, until it was a woman's body that crouched nearby, looming over him.

“Nnoitra,” Neliel said, her voice much deeper than the child's, but that same sad expression marring her face.

He turned away in disgust. What was held in the woman's gaze was more than he could bear. It would have been better to die than to owe Neliel his life. It would have been better to die than to be smothered under the weight of her pity. His gut twisted with something that felt suspiciously like remorse. Like shame. He wanted so badly to escape it, but he was trapped as much by his weakened frame as he was by those eyes of hers.

“Why are you always like this, Neliel?” Nnoitra rasped, gazing at the sand dunes on the horizon. “I don't want your pity.”

Neliel gazed down at him, her hand still resting on his head. “I've never been one for pity, Nnoitra. I've never wasted my time with that.”

“Then why-” Nnoitra began as he turned toward her, but was cut off by seeing something in the sad eyes that were trained down on him. He realized something when her hand moved to gently card through his blood-stained locks. It simply wasn't possible. It couldn't be. Not after what he'd-

'Why are you always clinging to me like my shadow, Neliel?'
'Because you're weaker than me. That's all.'

But it really wasn't so simple as that, was it? Her eyes told a deeper story now. Maybe they always had, and he had stubbornly refused to see it.

Gritting his teeth, Nnoitra's frown deepened as he tried to prevent what bloomed inside him from spilling over. His eye stung, but he was sure that this was because of the wind tossing grains of sand against his face. So he laid against the blood-soaked ground, feeling a seemingly delicate hand stroke through his hair. Lying there, Nnoitra watched green locks billow outward, tossed on currents of air, until a shadow loomed over him and he felt a kiss upon his brow.


End