Lionhearts ||Skephalo||

54

The first thing he hears as he wakes up is hushed voices, discussing him.

So it's only natural, how he reacts when Skeppy hears George softly ask,

"So, he's not really...down, with his abilities? He really just snapped like that at you, refused to do anything except let you ink protections?"

He sits up, rather offended, and glares at his friend and Dream alike, snapping out a hoarse, sleepy,

"I'm right here, George. And really, what's so special about whatever I can do? It's useless to me now. Unless it can help me blow up the fortress."

Dream starts to explain, him and George talking over each other,

"Skeppy, you see—"

"It's not like your life ended as soon as Bad's did—"

Both statements clash brutally in his brain, and Skeppy snarls in response, anger rapidly clouding his reasoning. He just lost his soulmate, for fuck's sake; isn't he allowed a little time to grieve? Is he not entitled to a few minutes without some kind of personal drama?

"George, shut your stupid mouth," he snaps, "And Dream, don't you fucking start again. I'd rather lose this altogether than keep it! It's a curse I'd be better off without, 'specially since I haven't used any magic my whole life. Go on, actually, can't mages take each other's abilities? Strip powers? Do it," he urges, sitting up and spreading his arms almost in a welcoming way, "Just eliminate the problem! Take my magehood and stash it in your pile of power or something!" Dream sucks in a sharp breath, and his expression betrays the nature of what he's about to say. Skeppy rolls his eyes, "Oh, so this one request just isn't possible? I'm stuck with it? You wanna make me a weapon??"

"It's not that it's impossible to lose your magic, Skeppy." Fundy's gentle, soft voice sounds from the doorway as the shifter leans against it, watching the hunter snap and snarl at the pair of soulmates, "It's that every mage to ever lose their magic even temporarily has described it as horribly painful— and it was always of their own doing, by accident. Even a mage who has never used magic consciously will be connected to mana, and losing a connection to the flow of life of the world itself is absurdly...draining." Skeppy turned to face him when he spoke, and as the warning statement finishes, the shifter's eyes narrow. "Now, you should apologize to your friend and the prince there, aye? They're just doing their best to make sure you don't up and get turned into a weapon against us."

Skeppy drops his gaze at the chastising tone Fundy uses, burning with embarrassment at having been reprimanded for his emotional outburst.

God, I'm just so angry that this was all for nothing— all for him to just...die. He knows he won't work through his grief just like that, and gods only know how angry he still is at Dream for what he realizes fully is just explaining the nature of the risk Skeppy's abilities pose; he just doesn't want any more hindrances.

"Sorry," he drawls insincerely, tone dripping with sarcasm. Fundy frowns, and Dream glances to George with a curious and concerned look to his easy-to-read face, blinking a couple times. "What? It's an apology."

He gets up, and pushes his way past Fundy. From the clocks, he's only been asleep for three hours, and it did nothing to ease his exhaustion. Scanning the lower floor, he locates Sapnap, and grabs his friend by the arm. Sapnap jumps, glancing at him with alarm, and then confusion.

"You look pissed," he says bluntly, and Skeppy lets out a slight bark of laughter.

"Oh I fucking am. Can we spar? I'll fill you in." Sapnap's gaze flicks around the room, and then lands back on Skeppy as he nods.