Who: Divorce (itsnotyouitsme), with a special guest appearance by Nuclear Power and a brief cameo by Lust. What: Divorce... divorces themselves. Er. When: Early, early Sunday morning. Where: Nowhere, The Mojave Desert, Nevada. Warnings: An occasional naughty word. Otherwise meh.
The whole thing wound up being, in some ways, pretty fucking anti-climatic. Desmond had planned, dug deep, wheedled, bargained and otherwise connived his way into getting what he wanted. Second only to staying with Lust, separating from Mona was paramount; Divorce was at a crossroads, and now was time for them to head down their separate paths. (Or, as Desmond had decided, to split prior to his beating his counterpart into an unrecognizable mess.)
Every moment since that initial conversation with Nuclear Power had been nerve-wracking. There had never been a doubt in his mind about actually making a deal with his fellow New God -- pardon, Goddess -- he was too confident, too cocky for failure to even factor into the equation. And Enola, cool, reserved, bless-her-heart Enola, had come through. Their meeting in the desert was a study in contrasts. Honestly, it sounded like the beginning of a bad joke.
A Familial God and a Science God meet in an uninhabited part of the Nevada desert...
Still, his nerves were strung tight. He hadn't lied to Nuclear Power. He was nervous. More than nervous -- afraid, though that wasn't something he was willing to talk about, not even to Lust. To admit to the fear was to invite it in, and once that happened there would be no turning back. No, Desmond would swagger his way through the whole thing just to see it through.
For the first time in his long life, he followed instructions. Arrived at the right coordinates, instructed Lust to stay behind, far behind, if only because they didn't know what was going to happen and he'd die before seeing her hurt. He shocked himself as much as anyone when he was early, and after that... After that, words hadn't been the top priority.
The whole thing was over with fast, faster than anyone could have expected. As horrendously painful an experience as it was, separating was second nature for Divorce, and splitting things down to the atom was what made Enola Nuclear Power. Two in the morning and they lit up the sky like it was high noon, the release of energy first going up, then out for miles in a massive wave. Subtlety was not Nuclear Power's strong point.
Desmond would have screamed, but that would have required breath in his lungs. Thinking it over later, he suspected Mona might have done it for him. He hoped and hoped hard that he'd have the strength to reach over and hurt her, that sister-self he'd never before looked in the pretty face, but no. They were both left sprawled in the dirt, weak, aching and exhilarated all at once. Desmond managed to grin that rabid fox's grin of his, something which started out as a thank you to Enola but eventually was directed towards Mona in a look so poisonous, it was a wonder she didn't drop dead right there.
And Mona. Well.
She'd been fighting him for control for weeks, a struggle she would have won had it not been for Lust. To finally find herself in the flesh again should have been a joy unto itself, except she was lying naked and pained in a place she couldn't recognize. There was a strange woman she didn't know standing not too far off, a woman who wouldn't even register to her flash-fried senses if she did not give off that feeling of deity and a complete, disturbing void of sound.
Were it not for the pain, Mona might have paid attention to Enola. Were it not for Desmond, Mona might have paid attention to the pain. She stared at him in shock, unable to really comprehend the man lying on the ground beside her. It was, she told herself, another dream. Another horrible, terrible dream.
But she knew it wasn't.
What he'd done dawned on her even as the light around them slowly faded back to evening. Mona would have railed at him, but she couldn't stand. She would have reached out those few feet dividing them to strike that fool's face of his, but the idea of touching Desmond -- and it was Desmond, she knew that in her heart -- unsettled her more than words could say. So they both just lay there, panting like dogs to get through the sweet, sharp pain of their separation. They stared at one another with vain, selfish, hateful eyes, and neither one could find the strength to speak.
In the end, what saved Desmond was Lust. It took the Sin some time to arrive, but she helped her lover to his feet, exchanged a few heated words with him -- not angry ones, Mona could see that much even through the state she was in -- and eventually they left, the headlights of their car signaling that it was almost time for the real sunrise. While Lust drove them back home, Desmond lolled between sleep and consciousness. Half of what he spoke was nonsense. The rest of it was a jumble of Latin; curses for Mona, murmured endearments for the woman now by his side, praises for the God of the Great Divide.
Nuclear Power slipped away into the night only after she'd found her experiment to be a success. There had been an agreement from Desmond, a blurry "yes, yes, of course" before she left.
And Mona stayed where she was, the Mojave Desert stretched out before her. Somewhere in the distance, further than she could see, was the unsettling comfort of Las Vegas. Overwhelmed, she didn't move toward it but instead stared blankly up at the stars. Like always, Mona was left to take care of herself.