[ At first, nothing happens. Much like before, when Henry clung onto Alec's arms and he just let it happen, he just stands there, impassive, letting Henry kiss him.
And then, by slow degrees, the yawning void in him begins to fill. The darkness comes first. All of the anger, all of the hate, all of the grief and the loathing. A storm the color of pitch now caught again in the cage of his ribs after having it pulled out of him. He promised Henry, didn't he? Promised him he would always stay angry, and he'd lost that. Lost it.
The rest follows. The delicate, shimmering glass of his true self, his true desires. The inexplicable love and the companionship and the acceptance. The need to always do right by a father long dead, and the rigid set of personal rules that keep him on that path.
Coming back to himself feels like rising out of a dream and plunging into frigid water all at once, and the breath is robbed from his lungs. He gasps, suddenly, against the insistence of Henry's lips, and the stark reality of the last few hours hit him hard. If he'd been forced to be that thing for any longer than that... fuck. No he doesn't want to think about it.
And how can he? When Henry is here, holding onto him, trying so hard to bring him back? Fuck, he almost lost this too, didn't he?
After what feels like a small eternity but has surely lasted no more than a mere moment, Alec's hands come up suddenly to curl tightly into the fabric of Henry's shirt, to pull him close and keep him there while he leans in to fervently, desperately, kiss him back. ]
[It does feel like an eternity, that moment where Alec doesn’t seem to respond. But even then, Henry cannot accept that as the reality. He won’t. His kiss is persistent, and unflagging, and yes, nearly desperate. His heart thrums so hard in his chest that he hears it drumming in his ears, and every muscle in his body is tight, working in-tandem to keep him upright and not ruin what feels like his one chance at making this right.
And then Alec gasps against his kiss, and Henry can’t know if it’s working, but something is working, and there it is again: hope, a thing that never settles comfortably in a man like him, but he clings to it all the same today.
He almost says something. But he doesn’t need to. Alec fingers are curling into his shirt, pulling him closer if such a thing were possible, and he’s kissing him back.
(Relief pounds at the walls of his mind, eager to overcome him. But he bars its entry for now — he can’t let it in, not just yet, not before he needs to ask:)]
Do you still— [Messy, low utterances against the other’s lips. If he sounds pitiable, for once, he doesn’t care.] Do you still want me, Alec?
[ Do you still want me? Oh, how he hates having to hear that question. How he hates having been the one to bring it out of Henry. Even if it was all terribly beyond his control.
His hands leave Henry's shirt if only so he can put them on either side of his face instead. ]
Of course I do. There's no one else in this whole shitty multiverse that I could ever want.
[That's all he needs to hear. That's all he wants to set the universe right again, and Henry raises his eyes to meet Alec's, once more showing an expression that is so, so rarely on display for anyone else. It's the look of a man wrung-dry, vulnerable, and who had been seeking something lost, and...
It's relief. Finally.
One hand drops to Alec's shoulder to anchor himself there. The other fists into the front of his shirt in kind. His head feels clearer now, the pain swept away, but the last mote of stubborn strength he possessed, pushing him forward, feels as though it dissipates in a single breath.
Henry is practically clinging.]
You're back. I thought you were gone. I thought I was...
[Left alone again. Robbed of a future, a promise.]
[ Oh. He can just feel all the stubborn fight go out of Henry like a last gasp, and he reaches around his waist to keep him steady. Let him cling, he earned it. ]
C'mon, Henry. I'm harder to get rid of than that. Especially when I've got your stubborn ass here to pull me back.
[ The feeling, or the lack of them rather, haunts him. It was only for a few hours that he was left to wander as a husk of himself, but that was enough. He's never going to forget that godawful feeling. ]
[Maybe that's an unfair ask, given that this instance of Alec "leaving" was well beyond his control. But some deeply shaken part of Henry needs to hear it in this moment.]
[ Yeah, he knows that's not something he can promise with any certainty, but... well. That doesn't really matter much right now. He could never deny Henry anything, even the impossible. ]
[You had better keep that promise, Alec Brennan. He will obliterate any unkind world that steals you away from him.
He’s quiet for a moment, before Henry just… pulls him into a hug. It’s as tight as he can manage in his state. And he lets out a shuddering breath, something finally uncoiling inside.]
[ A tight a hug as Henry can manage in this state is probably not very tight at all, Mr. Noodle Arms. Still, Alec returns it tenfold, gripping him tight. ]
I've got you.
[ And when Henry looses that breath, something seems to unwind in them both, because Alec's quiet for a beat more, and then: ]
[ He lets out an exhale that might be distant relatives with a laugh. ]
Sure. Let's get me to the dorm.
[ For a small mercy, they're near enough to one of his portals that he can just open the thing up from here and guide Henry through, straight to his room. ]
And Alec’s bed looks very tempting now that he’s here, but he doesn’t immediately cross over to it.]
Do you need anything? Now that you’re back.
[Yes, he’s going to tend to Alec — or at least he thinks he’s going to. The rest of the team is probably fine. He has a vague notion of them recovering during his anger-addled gaze, he supposes it must be rooted in truth somehow.]
[ Alec has some recollection of a gunshot before he got poofed the fuck out of their stupid conference room, so who knows what happened there. Also, like, regardless of anything, Komaeda is still missing a leg. ]
I need you to sit down and let me get you cleaned up. And then, I'm gonna need you to get some fucking rest, okay?
[Oh, Alec. That look in his eyes destroys what shred of resistance Henry had, small as it ever was.
Like he could ever tell him no.]
...Okay.
[He makes his way over to Alec's bed and sits. Sits in way that looks more like his legs giving out than gracefully lowering himself onto the mattress, but it's been... a time. And once he's seated, he wonders how he ever managed to stand at all.]
[ Oh, Henry. Something in Alec's chest twist watching him all but collapse. There was... truly nothing he could have done to prevent what happened to him, but even so he feels like if he had just been just a little bit faster, a little bit stronger, maybe...
God. What a useless fucking way to think.
He ducks briefly into the bathroom and returns shortly with a damp cloth. It's gentle, the way he sits down next to Henry, guiding him to look at him with a hand at his chin so he can begin to wipe away the blood and grime and sweat. ]
[The moments pass, and it becomes clearer that he won't be moving from this bed for a while yet. Every limb is useless. Even when Alec returns, it feels like an effort just to tilt his head here and there to let him wipe away the grime and matted blood, even if he is guided by his touch.
Still, it's the most relaxed he's felt since the start of the last game; relieved, but in that hollowed-out, exhausted way.
But then he hears the tone of Alec's voice, and his eyes flutter open again.]
It wasn't you.
[Alec, with his heart missing, with his desires gone... It just wasn't him. If he's apologizing for the things he said, the way Henry's world collapsed in on itself, then he should harbor no blame for it.]
It was me. I said them, and I'm always going to remember I said them.
[ That's the thing about wizards. It's written into the complex nature of their magic, the length of their lives. They remember. And they will always remember. It's just how they're wired. It's a gift, in a lot of ways, and a curse in so many others.
Alec is going to carry this day, the terrible feeling of hollowness with him for decades to come. He's going to always recall how Henry looked at him, pleaded with him, and how he could not even summon the will to care.
And in the middle of all of this, he has the brief, startling, lightning-flash of a thought of, Oh my god, this is how Sprezzatura feels.
What the fuck.
He shakes his head, breathes out a sigh, and rests his hand on the side of Henry's face. ]
It's okay. Just... raw, is all. I don't ever want to do anything like that to you again.
[Will he always remember how that felt, then, to be missing his heart? Always remember the things he said? Henry frowns even as he tilts his head into Alec’s touch. How dare someone do this to him, how dare they make him experience what it is to feel hollow, purposeless, adrift and uncaring.
How dare they? To his Alec?]
…Listen to me.
[He raises his hand, and cups him gently (weakly) along his jaw.]
I forgive you. I’d forgive you for anything, so forgive yourself, too.
[ Henry is probably a bit too tired to properly collect the pieces and conclude how well it will stick in his mind. Bright and vibrant and as real as the day he was whisked away from his home to land here in the prison. As sharp as the sights and sounds and smells of the Chicago Riverwalk in autumn. It will always be there.
But, for a blessing, he has Henry to pull him out of his thoughts, to help shove those memories back in the deep dark place where he keeps the death of his father, and the long torment of his childhood.
Listen to me, he says. And Alec does. ]
Henry... [ He leans into the hand on his face, presses into the warmth of Henry's palm. That touch, weak though it is, is grounding. ] I'll get there. I promise.
[Henry Creel, the man who only ever wants to unearth the bad memories… only wishes to quash them in Alec, now. That day when he was so, so interested in viewing the worst night of Alec’s life feels so distant. For a while now, he’s only ever wanted him to be happy — that’s all that matters.
All that matters…]
Good. Because all that matters is that you’re here with me now.
[He closes that barely-there space between them, and kisses him in a way that is rare for Henry — just gentle, just comforting. Just existing in a reality where Alec is no longer stolen from him. The last bit of his energy, for this.]
[ Oh. Yes, they both need this. Something uncharacteristically gentle, some kind of warmth and reassurance that the other is there and real and that the worst is well and truly behind them. Alec gives himself to this moment, this kiss, this man.
After a long, long moment that somehow doesn't feel quite long enough, they finally part, though Alec chases one more brief, sweet kiss, planted on the corner of Henry's mouth. ]
I love you. No one's ever going to take that from me again.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
striketwice) wrote2022-10-02 07:47 pm
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And then, by slow degrees, the yawning void in him begins to fill. The darkness comes first. All of the anger, all of the hate, all of the grief and the loathing. A storm the color of pitch now caught again in the cage of his ribs after having it pulled out of him. He promised Henry, didn't he? Promised him he would always stay angry, and he'd lost that. Lost it.
The rest follows. The delicate, shimmering glass of his true self, his true desires. The inexplicable love and the companionship and the acceptance. The need to always do right by a father long dead, and the rigid set of personal rules that keep him on that path.
Coming back to himself feels like rising out of a dream and plunging into frigid water all at once, and the breath is robbed from his lungs. He gasps, suddenly, against the insistence of Henry's lips, and the stark reality of the last few hours hit him hard. If he'd been forced to be that thing for any longer than that... fuck. No he doesn't want to think about it.
And how can he? When Henry is here, holding onto him, trying so hard to bring him back? Fuck, he almost lost this too, didn't he?
After what feels like a small eternity but has surely lasted no more than a mere moment, Alec's hands come up suddenly to curl tightly into the fabric of Henry's shirt, to pull him close and keep him there while he leans in to fervently, desperately, kiss him back. ]
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And then Alec gasps against his kiss, and Henry can’t know if it’s working, but something is working, and there it is again: hope, a thing that never settles comfortably in a man like him, but he clings to it all the same today.
He almost says something. But he doesn’t need to. Alec fingers are curling into his shirt, pulling him closer if such a thing were possible, and he’s kissing him back.
(Relief pounds at the walls of his mind, eager to overcome him. But he bars its entry for now — he can’t let it in, not just yet, not before he needs to ask:)]
Do you still— [Messy, low utterances against the other’s lips. If he sounds pitiable, for once, he doesn’t care.] Do you still want me, Alec?
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His hands leave Henry's shirt if only so he can put them on either side of his face instead. ]
Of course I do. There's no one else in this whole shitty multiverse that I could ever want.
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It's relief. Finally.
One hand drops to Alec's shoulder to anchor himself there. The other fists into the front of his shirt in kind. His head feels clearer now, the pain swept away, but the last mote of stubborn strength he possessed, pushing him forward, feels as though it dissipates in a single breath.
Henry is practically clinging.]
You're back. I thought you were gone. I thought I was...
[Left alone again. Robbed of a future, a promise.]
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C'mon, Henry. I'm harder to get rid of than that. Especially when I've got your stubborn ass here to pull me back.
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You were so empty.
[Lowers his head to rest his forehead on Alec's shoulder, eyes closing.]
You can't ever do that again. I can't- [Fingers clenching tighter.] If you ever leave, I don't have anything left.
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[ The feeling, or the lack of them rather, haunts him. It was only for a few hours that he was left to wander as a husk of himself, but that was enough. He's never going to forget that godawful feeling. ]
I'm not going anywhere Henry. Never again.
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[Maybe that's an unfair ask, given that this instance of Alec "leaving" was well beyond his control. But some deeply shaken part of Henry needs to hear it in this moment.]
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I promise.
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He’s quiet for a moment, before Henry just… pulls him into a hug. It’s as tight as he can manage in his state. And he lets out a shuddering breath, something finally uncoiling inside.]
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I've got you.
[ And when Henry looses that breath, something seems to unwind in them both, because Alec's quiet for a beat more, and then: ]
You look like shit, you know that?
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I feel like shit, too.
[Buddy you don’t even know the things he’s been up to since you were de-hearted.]
…we should get you back to the dorm.
[Like Alec’s the one that needs a lie-down.]
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Sure. Let's get me to the dorm.
[ For a small mercy, they're near enough to one of his portals that he can just open the thing up from here and guide Henry through, straight to his room. ]
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And Alec’s bed looks very tempting now that he’s here, but he doesn’t immediately cross over to it.]
Do you need anything? Now that you’re back.
[Yes, he’s going to tend to Alec — or at least he thinks he’s going to. The rest of the team is probably fine. He has a vague notion of them recovering during his anger-addled gaze, he supposes it must be rooted in truth somehow.]
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I need you to sit down and let me get you cleaned up. And then, I'm gonna need you to get some fucking rest, okay?
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Alec... After everything you've been through, I don't need you fussing over me right now.
[Says the man who looks like shit. Pointedly not sitting down... yet.]
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It's what I need. So, please. Sit down.
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Like he could ever tell him no.]
...Okay.
[He makes his way over to Alec's bed and sits. Sits in way that looks more like his legs giving out than gracefully lowering himself onto the mattress, but it's been... a time. And once he's seated, he wonders how he ever managed to stand at all.]
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God. What a useless fucking way to think.
He ducks briefly into the bathroom and returns shortly with a damp cloth. It's gentle, the way he sits down next to Henry, guiding him to look at him with a hand at his chin so he can begin to wipe away the blood and grime and sweat. ]
I'm so sorry.
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Still, it's the most relaxed he's felt since the start of the last game; relieved, but in that hollowed-out, exhausted way.
But then he hears the tone of Alec's voice, and his eyes flutter open again.]
It wasn't you.
[Alec, with his heart missing, with his desires gone... It just wasn't him. If he's apologizing for the things he said, the way Henry's world collapsed in on itself, then he should harbor no blame for it.]
...Saying those things, I mean.
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[ That's the thing about wizards. It's written into the complex nature of their magic, the length of their lives. They remember. And they will always remember. It's just how they're wired. It's a gift, in a lot of ways, and a curse in so many others.
Alec is going to carry this day, the terrible feeling of hollowness with him for decades to come. He's going to always recall how Henry looked at him, pleaded with him, and how he could not even summon the will to care.
And in the middle of all of this, he has the brief, startling, lightning-flash of a thought of, Oh my god, this is how Sprezzatura feels.
What the fuck.
He shakes his head, breathes out a sigh, and rests his hand on the side of Henry's face. ]
It's okay. Just... raw, is all. I don't ever want to do anything like that to you again.
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How dare they? To his Alec?]
…Listen to me.
[He raises his hand, and cups him gently (weakly) along his jaw.]
I forgive you. I’d forgive you for anything, so forgive yourself, too.
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But, for a blessing, he has Henry to pull him out of his thoughts, to help shove those memories back in the deep dark place where he keeps the death of his father, and the long torment of his childhood.
Listen to me, he says. And Alec does. ]
Henry... [ He leans into the hand on his face, presses into the warmth of Henry's palm. That touch, weak though it is, is grounding. ] I'll get there. I promise.
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All that matters…]
Good. Because all that matters is that you’re here with me now.
[He closes that barely-there space between them, and kisses him in a way that is rare for Henry — just gentle, just comforting. Just existing in a reality where Alec is no longer stolen from him. The last bit of his energy, for this.]
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After a long, long moment that somehow doesn't feel quite long enough, they finally part, though Alec chases one more brief, sweet kiss, planted on the corner of Henry's mouth. ]
I love you. No one's ever going to take that from me again.
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