Gemme: Can't Do ItMature

"If you want a grand tour, dunno what there is to see."

"Well you don't have to show me, it's just... complete opposite of what I grew up in, that's all."

"Well, if you would like."

"There are about six bedrooms, three bathrooms upstairs, two downstairs. Study, living room, kitchen, dining room. He fell into a thoughtful silence and I smiled. "Anything you would like to see?"

"Uh... I dunno." He looked around in amazement as I took him upstairs to the giant TV room.

"Gemme!" My father called and I sighed, “waits here, please."

"Oh... yeah okay." I won’t tell you the details of our argument, I would only repeat myself later. But after a while Luca must have heard us because I caught a, "What's the yelling for?" in my head.

"Noth-"  "I'm not like Mum and you!" I growled, earning a firm hand from father and I stumbled back, falling to the floor. "What the hell was that for!?" He ran downstairs and as he got to the study door it was my turn to growl at my father. "Damn it, if you weren't my father I'd... I'd!"

"What? Do what you did to your mother?"

Luca helped me up and I smiled to him. "Thanks." I whispered to him, before turning back to father. "No, because you don't deserve the kindness, this is what you do, push people away." I growled, earning another hit from him, my lip bleeding slightly.

Something nearby us shook and my lip healed. My father didn’t seem bothered by this however. "I've stood by you, in everything. Even through the drugs, just let me go!"

"Then go! Go like your mother and fuck off!" He growled and I snarled, "You don't deserve me, you didn't deserve her." He raised his hand again.

Suddenly he froze, and Luca gave him a critical look. "Thought you said he'd changed," he muttered, before turning back to my father. "I'll unfreeze you when you've calmed down."

"I was blind." I muttered, looking from the floor to my father, "now I see I was wrong." He hugged me close to him and I sighed. "This doesn't mean you can't change Luca."

"Not the most encouraging start to my little educational trip, though," he mumbled, releasing my father.

"I did kill his wife and ran away from him though." I raised my hand, punching the old man, making him stumble back into his seat. "You may have overcome the drugs and changed that way. But you're still a fucking cold-hearted bastard."

"Wow, chill. I thought I was the one with the temper."

"I've been beaten by him all my life, when he found out I had my power he used me to get free drugs. I still helped him get over it and you still haven't changed."

He whimpered, tears forming on his cheeks, but I shook my head. "Someone always deserves a second chance. I've lost count of how many I've given you." He was silent and I snarled, "You're lucky I don't burn this place down again."

"I think we should go upstairs and sleep off the jet-lag, don't you?" Luca mumbled, tugging me over toward the stairs.

"Eugh," I moaned, following reluctantly.

"Which room's yours?" he asked, squeezing my hand slightly.

"That one," I pointed to the one with the lion carved on the door.

"Fancy," he muttered, running a finger over the carving before opening the door.

"Hmm, I guess." I shrugged, sitting down on the giant queen sized bed in the middle of the room.

"You guess? Huh. The next family reunion is gonna be in the back of a trailer with my dad. Then you'll see what I mean."


He flopped down on the bed. "Hey, I'm sorry about your dad still being a bastard," he sighed.

"Not your fault." I shrugged, waving a hand dismissively.

"Yeah I know, but you'd been looking forward to coming back home to rain central and now you find out your dad hasn't changed," he muttered, sitting up and opening his arms to offer a hug.

"Yeah." I sighed, falling into his arms. "At least he gave up drugs."

"More than can be said for me then," he laughed softly, a bitter edge showing through, "I'm still a bastard and I still take drugs."

"You're not a bastard."

"If you say so, C'mon. Let's just go to sleep, yeah and maybe the sun'll come out tomorrow. It might cheer the old guy up to see some sun for once."

I searched the floor, perhaps looking for the courage to lie and say yes. But I don't think I could. "No, no it won't."

He sighed. "I knew it was a long shot."

"It's nigh impossible. But sleep if you want to."

"Aren't you tired?" He mumbled, kissing me on the cheek before getting up to pull his joggers out of his bag.

"I guess." I shrugged.

"can I not help somehow?" he asked, sitting back beside me, "I hate seeing you unhappy."

"I... don't know." I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I'm not his angel, I'm not so innocent."

"You can be my angel," he grinned. "I think that's the cheesiest thing I've ever said."

"Yeah, you wouldn't want me as an angel."

"Why not?"

"I can't be an angel, I've burnt down a house, stolen, killed, taken drugs and committed suicide God knows how many times."

"You're still more innocent than me," he said with a slight shrug.

"Whatever." He sighed and got under the covers but I stood, turning to him for a moment and nodding before turning and heading to the door.

"Where're you going?"


"No, c'mon, just go to bed. I can't make you freeze the way I can make anyone else freeze."

"Just sleep, Luca."

He sat up, giving me a hard look, "what're you even planning on doing?"


"Tell me," he growled slightly.

"Don't make me make you sleep!"

"Then don't make me lose my temper!"

"I'm not about to tell you, just sleep!" I growled, opening the door.

"Why aren't you gonna tell me, huh? If you're gonna make him hurt same way you did, it's not gonna make it better. Two wrongs don't make a right and all that shit," his voice was rising as he struggled to keep in control of his temper.

"Oh, no, I want to say sorry." I smiled, walking down the corridor and down the stairs.

"Huh. Why do I get the feeling that ain't quite the way it's gonna go?" He muttered, following me.

I turned sharply, snarling, my face masked with purest anger. "Oh? What does your...feeling... tell you?" I spat.

"That a face like that isn't about to be saying sorry to anyone."

"No." I smiled, pulling one of the swords from the display case, "you're so right."

He grabbed my wrist firmly, squeezing it tightly as he pushed me backwards into the cabinet. "Don't." He snarled, his angered eyes inches from mine.

"Or you'll do what?" I challenged, the grip on the sword just tightening. "He deserves to die!"

His hand twisted my wrist around, threatening to snap the bone, "I think we've both seen too many people die, don't you?"

"I can bear to see one more."

"If you believe I can change, then why don't you believe he can?" he snapped, turning my wrist a little further until I winced slightly.

"Fine, I don't need to touch him, to kill him."

"Why won't you answer my question, Gemme?"

"Because he's had a lifetime to change," I scanned further, until I found his troubled head, then I channelled my anger into it, really however father knew what I was doing and this was just a signal to execute the plan.

"Yeah, and I'm immortal, but who's to say that I'll-" He brought his hand across my face, "listen to me, Gemme. Who's to say that I'll be able to change? I could spend three lifetimes trying and still end up like him."

"Then you'll end like him!" I snarled.

"Go on then!" he yelled, stepping back and holding his arms out, "why don't you make me fucking suffer, angel?"

"It's not you I'm after, Muse." I growled, racing off, back up the stairs to father’s room.

"No, but you might as well be! I'm just like him, after fucking all!" he shouted after me, making me trip.

"I'm not arguing with you Luca." I growled, whining as the sword pierced my wrist as I fell, but I picked myself up, continuing to walk forward, despite the blood pouring out onto the floor. That was why I never slit my wrists.

The gash healed in an instant, but he strode up behind me, his hand clamping down on my shoulder. "Why not, huh?” I was waiting for him to walk out, I didn’t know I’d get so damaged in the process.

"Because I don't want to, I love you."

I searched for his mind again and a screech came from his room.

Luca hit me again, snarling. "I don't want to be forgiven for who I am!" He snatched the sword from my hand and threw it down the corridor, not watching it sail through the air as he slammed me into the wall. "I deserve to hurt too, but you won't do it 'cause you love me more than your dad?"

"You're too right." I sighed, clicking my fingers, extracting a final scream from my father.

Luca said nothing, his expression turning from anger to disgust as he dropped his hands from me, walking away.

"You still want me as your fucking angel?" I called, not bothering to walk after him.

"Eugh, what a mess." I murmured, ignoring as he walked past me, it would take forever to clean this up. Hmm... I walked past Luca as I grabbed the suitcase, taking it from the room and throwing it down the stairs. I then stood, blankly making all the servants in the house pour fuel around each room, before running off with no recollection of what happened. I dragged the suitcase from the bottom of stairs and dragging it out of the house as the flame was cast to the fuel, igniting the path. Luca ignored it as it made a roaring boom.

"Luca! Give me your phone."

"It's in my bag."

"Thanks." I called, rooting through his bag. Ahh, there it is.

What're you doing?" he asked through gritted teeth.

 "Umm, seeing as father's dead, the house is on fire. I'm calling Ike to tell him the terrible news."

"I thought you guys were telepathic," he spat.

"I'm tired, blowing up someone’s head and projecting the same thought into over a hundred servant's heads is tiring. I might also call Benny..."

“Whatever," he muttered, still walking.

"Wait, Luca!"


"You'll need some money if you don't want to stay in this bog of my home."

"I have money. And it's not my fault it rains too much here."

"You can't use dollars here."

"I'm not so fucking backwards I don't have a bank account, y'know," he growled.

"Yeah, Luca, seeing as you're so disgusted by my murderous ways perhaps you would like it rather if I went to Japan with Benny?"

He turned around to face me at last. "I'm not disgusted that you killed someone - that would make me a hypocrite. I'm more disgusted that you killed your own family."

"You're still a hypocrite, you killed your mother, remember? That wasn't an accident like mine."

"Exactly," he hissed furiously.

"Plus, he was gonna die from cancer anyway and he got his wish, before he died he saw me happy."

"Oh, and that makes it all better," he rolled his eyes, turning away again.

"Oh whatever, like I ever need appreciation from the one I loved."

I heard him mentally acknowledge the use of the past tense and felt the pain pulse through him. But he didn't say anything more.

I could play this too. "I promise, I'll never hurt you." This quote was soon followed by the images of him thrusting me against the wall, making me trip and the sword slice through my wrist, throwing me against the wall again and when he almost broke my wrist.

He kept walking. "I did say I'd never be able to change," he said coldly, the icy tone reminding me of when we first met.

I couldn't help but remind him of the beach, both of them. "I told you, I wouldn't give up on you. You're giving up on me." I sighed, picking up a rock, readying my arm and throwing it so it landded just in front of him. "You can't walk away!"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he laughed.

"You're telling me that you loved me that much to just walk away like this?"

"You just killed your own dad!" he spun to face me again, "The Gemme I thought I knew wouldn't have done that."

"You're right."

"I couldn't." He gave me a questioning look and I rolled my eyes. "Have you actually seen his dead body?"

"Does it matter? The house is on fire."

"So. The servants escaped did they not?"

"Doesn't mean he did..."

"And you don't believe me. Thank you." I sighed, "Dead people don't drive cars." I growled, pointing as a black BMW sped down the street, my dad was driving. "But thanks so much for your faith."

A muscle twitched in his jaw as he watched the BMW for a moment. "You blame me for coming to that conclusion, then? You're the one that picked up a sword and stormed off."

"Because for a moment, I wanted to, I was ready to! But now, you turned me round. I didn't want to look weak so I asked him to help me; he screamed and snuck out the back door. I then pretended I did it and set the house alight."

Luca scowled at me, "great, so you lied to me instead!"

"I didn't think it would be so bad, I didn't think you wouldn't trust me. I thought we could overcome anything. I was wrong, sorry."

He sighed, his posture slumping slightly. "Sorry." he murmured. "I guess my temper still needs some... a lot of work."


Glancing at me, he sat down on the ground heavily, hugging his knees to his chest.

"Luca..." I whispered, my original compassion showing though from this all too familiar position but I shrugged it off, "no, I can't keep picking up these pieces."

"I know; you're right. I'm amazed you've managed to put up with me this long, to be honest." he muttered, closing his eyes and resting his chin on his knees.

"I know, I know, I don't know what to do anymore than what you do." He was silent again and I sighed. "Luca, why should I stay?"

"I don't know. Maybe you shouldn't," he whispered, not opening his eyes.

"Do you want me to?"

He nodded as best he could with his chin on his knees. "Yeah, but I don't want to make you hurt anymore," his voice still didn't rise above a whisper.

"You did right. I was about to do something I would've regretted."

"Doesn't mean how I went about it was right, though. I shouldn't have snapped like that."

"It doesn't matter how you think of it, it still happened."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"It's fine." I got down on my knees, the water instantly soaking into my jeans. "Luca, look up." Reluctantly, he looked up at me.

The End

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