title: Old Blood
fandom: GetBackers
characters/pairings: Akabane/Ban, implied Ban/Ginji
rating: Teen
warnings: blood, rough sex, post-character death
summary: Ban finds himself in a bad place.
notes: for wingless flightless, because he does prettypretty art on demand. purr... it's too short to be a proper thank you, but it's something... not. um. the something that he wanted, but... ah. heh. sorry!!!!!

He stopped to rest for a moment before going in. He tipped his head back against the brick wall. He'd lost his glasses back there in the fire. Didn't matter. His Jagan wasn't going to be any good any more. He felt like he could cough up some blood, so he suppressed the desire to cough at all.

His hair was in his eyes. He wanted to cut it all off. It used to be that his hair would always be standing on end, but it was Ginji's power that did that, and...

He pushed himself off the wall, and stumbled over to the nondescript door, partially hidden behind the dumpster. He didn't have to knock, and he didn't need to ring the bell. It didn't occur to him to wonder how long he'd been watched. With Akabane, it was safe to assume that he'd been watched the whole way.

He stumbled past the dirty, metal staircase, and went straight for the door with the red cross splashed across it. Ban never wondered whether or not it was painted on with blood. Again, the door was unlocked, and he didn't wonder about that, either.

The rooms smelled sickeningly of rubbing alcohol, antiseptic, and bleach. It was a clean smell that burned away everything as it penetrated his lungs. He felt torn apart by it, like it was reminding him how really filthy he was. He went to the metal sink in the back of the rooms, and turned the water on to hot. He stripped to the waist wearily, and put his arms under the flow of water. He couldn't even see what color the water was as it poured into the drain, and he didn't care.

"Mm, well, well, well, look what came crawling back."

He hated that musical voice, with its light, teasing rhythm. He splashed water onto his face, and silently begged Ginji's forgiveness.

A sigh, and then, "I don't know what to do with you, Midou Ban. You just keep coming back. You aren't even trying to kill me anymore. It's boring. And yet, you keep coming back. What am I to do with you?"

Ban leaned back, and stretched out his arms and shoulders. He wondered if he was bleeding anywhere. Not that it mattered. "Can I sleep here tonight?"

"Sleep?" Akabane sneered. "I should think not. If you are going to be abusing me with your presence, the least you could do is some work.

"After all, it's your fault I don't have Ginji-kun to play with anymore. Right?"

Ban turned his head and closed his eyes. It was true, he hadn't been there for Ginji when Ginji needed him. He could still hear Ginji's calls for him, especially here, but it was too late.

"Go get washed up properly, Ban-chan," Akabane sighed. "Let me clean your wounds. I don't like getting dirty blood on me."

He didn't take off his pants until he was in the bathroom. He turned the water on to hot, and let it flow, keeping his hand under the spigot so he could feel how hot it was getting. There was a single, dirty, bare bulb in the bathroom, and it made everything look even dingier. When the water was too hot to touch comfortably, he stopped up the tub, and slipped into the bath.

Akabane sighed as he stepped inside. He had removed his hat and his coat, but he hadn't rolled up his sleeves yet. He put a washcloth and some liquid soap down on the rim of the tub, and turned to the mirror. Ban started to soap himself up, rubbing the rough cloth over himself. He felt his flesh tear in places, but he ignored it, and rubbed harder. He didn't care about the pain at all. The water turned black and red and foamy, and he just scrubbed himself harder and harder.

"No, no," Akabane sighed, irritated. "You're just making it worse. Honestly! What would Ginji-kun say if he were here?" He rolled up his sleeves, and pulled the cloth from Ban's hands. He had tied his hair back, making his face look even sharper and more angular. "You're a fool, Midou Ban. An uninteresting fool."

"What did he say as he died?" He leaned forward, and let Akabane clean him. He waited, his lips parted, ready to say the words himself.

"How am I supposed to remember what every victim whines about as they die?" Akabane asked, irritated. "He said something. You know he said something. Yet you keep coming back. You know you can't kill me, but you keep coming back. There's nothing left here, Ban-chan. Nothing at all. Yet you keep coming back."

"What did he say?" Ban felt his thoughts go foggy, and the water swirled around him, all just the filth that he lived in, that he was. He could say the words himself, but he didn't believe them unless Akabane said them.

Akabane sighed, and stood up. He turned on the water, cold, and washed his hands with a surgeon's precision. "He said that he was glad that he had met you. You are worthless to me, you know? It's not even worth my energy to fuck you. I will, because what else am I to do with you? But you should let me kill you, Midou Ban. You aren't the man that tamed the Thunder Emperor anymore."

Ban said nothing. He got out of the water when Akabane told him to. He stretched out over the bed like Akabane said to. He let himself be cut up and tied down, as Akabane wanted to. He watched with groggy eyes as Akabane stripped, revealing skin that was paler than a ghost's transparent flesh, and covered with thin scars like a quilt's stitching.

The hands that pushed their way into his body were the same hands that closed over Ginji's throat. The mouth that sealed over his mouth was the same mouth that tasted Ginji's blood just as he had died. The whisper against his skin was the same that had laughed as Ginji had struggled for life.

He let the taste of Ginji's death fill him, make his body hot and his skin responsive, soaking in the blood and the sweat and the breath that Akabane had stolen from Ginji, whoring himself for these last reminders that kept him alive.

Akabane never used lube, except for the blood that seeped down, accidentally easing the passage. He bit and he tore at Ban's flesh, and each cut and bruise and bite was like a postcard from Ginji's deathbed.

He breathed slowly and evenly as the night broke into day, and felt Ginji's dead blood filling his heart.

There was nothing left for him here, but it was the only place he felt anything at all, and as long as he could hear Ginji's voice calling to him, he wouldn't give up.