ukan | IC CONTACT

[Pagan lets him inside and goes to sit dramatically on his couch.]

Those fucking angels happened, Lark. That's what happened.

He thinks about sitting across from Pagan but it feels too much like an interrogation or a debriefing. So instead he sits on the couch by him. "How many people did you have to share with?"

"Many," he tells him. "Over and over and over again, Lark. And not the lovely memories - the worst ones. But - "

He cuts a look out of the corner of his eyes at him.

"But it wasn't all terrible. Depends on who I shared it with."

"Which ones are still on your mind?" Those are the ones that effect the biggest changes: sometimes, though, it's for the worse.

"The day Lakshmana died," he says softly. "We caught him before he left. I got to see him die."

And it was glorious. Pagan relives that moment as often as he can. It's what fueled all of his anger in the first place.

None of Lark's memories ended up being so satisfying. He smiles, basking for a moment in the fact that at least Pagan got one.

"But you're not breaking out the champagne over it," he points out.

He sees that smile and elbows him slightly. "Now, now. No need to get jealous about it," he tells him with a roll of his eyes. "That was the only memory where I did something different," he tells him. "Every other time, I did exactly what I did before."

"For the most part, I did, too. It was only when I was in someone else's life that I tried to step in." He looks at Pagan. "What kept you from changing things?"

"Because I wanted to hurt them," he says blandly. "I wanted to hurt them a lot. So I did. But then fucking Anita came along..."

And he doesn't sound angry about that. He's fond of her. Very fond. But tired.

"And what did Anita do?" He's not surprised that he hasn't heard this story from her. Actually, he's glad he hasn't.

"Nothing," he says, hedging away from him as he stands up, retrieving a bottle of water for himself and placing one on the table in front of Lark.

"Just showed up. Kazuma did, too. And Larry. Fucking Arthur."

"Really. Anita Blake showed up and just sat down and watched?" Pagan, please. There are watchers and there are doers and Anita has probably never sat back and just watched anything in her life. The woman doesn't even watch TV.

"Does it matter what Anita Blake thinks?"

Pagan knows that he's posturing. That he's doing this because he wants to be difficult for the sake of being difficult.

The day that he's ever able to genuinely get anything past Lark is the day that he needs a new warden.

"It's a good thing I wasn't asking about what she thinks," Lark drawls, the way he does when he's willing to keep digging if Pagan doesn't start giving. "I was asking what she did in your memory."

He sighs, sitting back down beside him and opening the bottle. "Well, she and I didn't exactly see eye to eye on how to deal with a certain interloper to dinner. I thought he should be given to Paul." To be tortured.

"She thought I should just, I don't know, let him go." He shrugs. "So she pulled a gun on me. On me!"

Ah yes, the point where Lark differs from so many people here: torture is sometimes the answer.

"I assume you didn't let her shoot you?"

He shoots him a look. "Of course not. I have guards for that. I shot the little dipshit we were arguing over. Well, she didn't like that, either."

He swallows hard. "So then I told her to shoot me."

He could make a quip about those guards but he sees that heavy moment where Pagan clearly gathers himself.

"Did she?"

"Of course not. She just wanted to talk about it."

He looks up to the ceiling.

"So I jumped from the balcony, thinking that would end it."

Because of course Pagan would be the one to literally jump off of a mountain than talk about his feelings.

Lark gives him a long, long look. "You understand that no matter what you jump off of, I'm not going to just leave you alone, right? In fact if you're that desperate it's going to make me ask more questions."

"Yes. Well, you have that in common with her. She fucking grabbed me," he tells him, staring straight at him. Because this is the big damn secret.

"I had to pull her off the balcony with me. There was no way I was climbing back up."

Does this mean Pagan was also willing to kill someone else to avoid talking about himself? Lark frowns. "How mad was she when you woke up?"

Yes, that's exactly what it means.

"Not as much as you'd think," he says. "Even less after I ended up in her memories later."

He takes another drink and inspects his nails a moment.

"What was the memory?" Anita's or Pagan's, he leaves that open for interpretation, but whichever way Pagan chooses is going to tell him something important.

Pagan knows him better than that.

"Her memory? I'm not going to tell you, you nosy mutt. Mine? Dinner after Ajay's arrival in Kyrat."

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cw: mention of suicide

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