Chapter Text
Clancy marched into camp, his head spinning from the sudden light and noise. The camp was busier than ever, torches burning strong against the cold night air.
He’d imagined this moment, talked to Torch about it wishfully during cold nights in Dema, before he’d entirely lost hope. They’d talked about how good it would feel to be home again. All Clancy felt now was guilt, mixed with confusion and anger. He was too busy analysing his memories, trying to figure out what was real, to notice that he’d walked back to his tent on autopilot.
Torch’s tent. He thought to himself. And there, lying on their cot in the corner of the tent, was Torch. Clancy froze at the entrance, looking around at all his belongings, exactly where he’d left them so long ago. He’d lost track of time years ago, but he knew it had been a long time. His writing desk remained in the other corner of the tent, his journal untouched.
Curiosity got the better of him as he wandered in, brushing his fingers over the wood of the desk and the stacks of paper lying atop it. He paused.
I didn’t write those.
Clancy’s hand lingered on the stacks of paper, scribbled yet beautiful handwriting he recognised as Torch’s. He looked over, Torch still asleep on the cot. The bruise was fully formed, dark and painful-looking. The blood had been wiped away from his face, and he could just make out bandages peaking out from beneath his hoodie. A pang of guilt hit him. He turned back to the papers and sat on the small chair beside the desk.
Dear Clancy
I leave this here for you to find, in case I cannot explain to you. I’ve done everything I can, but I could not protect you. I’ll never be more sorry about anything. I have used my ability, projected to you as much as I can. I never told you it was only that. A projection. Why? Because I need you to keep hope. If you give up, then I will never get to see you again. And I am a selfish man. I love you, Clancy, and to lose you forever… I would surely lose myself. I cannot fail this time.
Covering you
TB
Clancy felt tears prick his eyes. He shuffled the papers, finding one that looked far older.
Day 21
I have found Clancy with my guiding ability. He’s in Dema, in a cell just as we feared. I’ve tried to project myself to him, so that he feels less alone. It’s a meagre comfort, but I cannot do more until we are ready to break in. I only pray that they do not hurt him too badly.
He grabbed another.
Dear Clancy
This letter is only a precaution if the worst happens. My ability is draining, it’s taking a toll on my health. I can hardly walk to the centre of camp anymore, and writing this letter is difficult due to my shaky hands. The others tell me not to project so much, to rest. I cannot rest until I bring you home safely. That said, if this kills me, I will let it. The others can bring you home. I am the only one who can be with you. And I refuse to leave you there alone. So if you find this letter, and I am not here to explain… I’m sorry I couldn’t do more. I am trying so hard, but there is only so much I can do.
Covering you,
TB
Clancy bit back a sob. Torch had been willing to die to save him, to not leave him there on his own. He quickly grabbed a few more, what looked like journal entries from various days.
Day 602
It has been too long. Clancy is breaking. I can see it in his eyes, he’s giving up. My health is failing me, I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. But I have to. For him.
Day 1210
We launched a breach of the walls. It failed. I failed. I had to cease my projection to do it, and when I got back Clancy was lying in the cell, in a pool of his own blood. They punished him for our attempt, though he does not even know of it. I bandaged his wounds, held him. It is not enough. I failed.
Day 2154
He is almost home. My projection is rowing a little boat from Voldsoy. For the first time in years, I am hopeful. My darling Clancy is within reach. I must make certain sacrifices to ensure he is safe. I will hardly sleep or eat if it means I get to hold him again. Really hold him again.
Clancy sniffled, taking one more paper in his trembling hands. It was scrawled messily, the ink smudged in places. He looked closely at the tear-stained paper.
My darling Clancy
This letter is for your eyes only. I do not know when you will read this, or if you ever will. All I can say is that I am so sorry. I can’t keep this up. It has been years, and we are no closer to saving you than the day you were taken. On the few nights sleep finds me, I see that day replayed over and over. Finding you gone, the drag path you left behind, was the hardest day of my life. I have failed you one too many times. I don’t know if I will find you before death finds me.
You must know that I love you, Clancy, and I always will, no matter what happens. You brought light into my world. And I will always try to find you, but in truth, it is all too much. Sometimes you can’t try again. Goodbye, Clancy.
Covering you, always.
~Your Torch
Clancy stared at the paper, eyes burning. He looked over at Torch as he stirred slightly on the cot.
“Torch…” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
The man turned his head, blinking his eyes open slowly.
“Clance…” his voice was weak. “Hey.”
Clancy took shaky steps to the cot, sitting beside his love. He rested an ink-stained hand on Torch’s cheek, running his thumb carefully over the bruise.
“I’m sorry…” he started, voice breaking. “Torch, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”
“‘S fine, Clance, I’m okay.”
“No!” He cried out. “I hurt you, and you were only trying to help me…”
He pressed his hand delicately to Torch’s chest, wary of the bruises he was sure would be there.
“Lie down with me.” Torch patted the pillow beside him. “It’s okay, you won’t hurt me.”
Clancy looked down at the paper still in his hand.
“What have you got there?”
“Your letter. I read some of them. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“
“It’s fine, Clancy. You were curious. Is this one…”
“Your goodbye.” Torch’s eyes dropped, looking awkward.
Wordlessly, Torch pulled up his sleeve, revealing a thick scar on his wrist. It looked to be a few years old, well healed. Clancy’s eyes widened.
“Oh… Torch… I didn’t…” The sight of it sent shivers down his spine.
“It’s fine. I just… it was hard without you. I wasn’t myself. I’m going to get a tattoo over it, though. Maybe you could draw something for me…” he trailed off with a small smile.
“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend this is okay. You tried to…”
“I’m sorry. Yeah, I tried to. It was a hard seven years, Clancy. I know it was hard for you, but it was for me as well. Need you to know it wasn’t easy.” His voice was soft, weary.
“I know. Just… don’t do that again.” Torch smiled sadly.
“I won’t. Were there any other letters you had questions about?”
Clancy thought for a moment, setting the note down beside their cot.
“Your ability. You wrote about how it drained you… why wouldn’t you just tell me? I would have…”
What? Understood? You wouldn’t have been able to.
“I didn’t tell you because I was scared of losing you. I know you thought… that I saw you as a weapon, or something to use. That isn’t true, Clancy. You are everything to me, but never just a tool. I was afraid that if you knew I wasn’t physically there, then your mind might just snap. It was a risk I couldn’t take. Not because I want to use you, but because I love you.”
Clancy sat silent for a moment, taking it in. He slowly lay down beside Torch, resting carefully on his chest.
“You were right.” He mumbled into Torch’s hoodie. “It would have broken me. But… it still might break me now. I just keep thinking back, and wondering… what was even real?”
“I understand. I guess… just talk to me. We can figure it out together.”
“Alright.” Clancy whispered, moving to bury his face in the crook of Torch’s neck.
“I didn’t mean it, you know, everything I said. You’re not like them. You… you’re the opposite, you care about me. You’ve given me everything.”
“Mmm. I missed you, Clancy-cat.” Torch snuggled closer.
“Missed you too, Torchlight. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry I hurt you, it-" He broke off in a cry.
“Shh. It’s all okay now.”
Strong arms wrapped around him, pulling him close. Clancy had missed this, missed the warmth of Torch’s body, missed the softness of his touch. Back in Dema, touch only meant pain. Out here in Trench, it meant safety. Love. Clancy sniffled.
“Cover me?” He whispered shakily.
“Always.” Came Torch’s unwavering reply.
Always.