Chapter Text
"It's alright?"
"Yeah."
"It's not upsetting your stomach any?"
"I'm good."
Tree watched Black Hole's face intently as he sipped the tea he'd made him, trying to pick up any cues of a distaste for it. But, as his face had been for the past twenty minutes, it was unreadable. Not emotionless, but Tree couldn't fully recognise what was there; in Black Hole's five months of life, Tree had never seen him in the state he was in, and honestly, he wasn't fully sure what to do. His eyes looked so strangely empty, and his voice rasped as if he'd been screaming for hours. Not to mention how different he'd been acting – he was just so... lifeless.
When Tree had gotten Black Hole inside the hotel earlier, he'd had to bring him to his room, as Black Hole had left his keycard locked up inside his own room. As soon as they'd gotten inside, Tree had filtered through all of his clothes to find a dry, comfortable, pajama-worthy outfit that was oversized enough to fit his (annoyingly!) tall friend. After a brief search, he'd landed on an old, dark-grey T-shirt that he'd only worn maybe once or twice, and a pair of soft, beige cargo shorts with origins he didn't remember in the slightest. He himself gathered dry sleep clothes as well, and they took turns changing in the bathroom. Then, when they'd finished, Tree had practically forced Black Hole to bundle up on his bed, trying to help him get as comfortable as he could, and dried his hair to the best of his ability with a towel. Throughout all of this, Black Hole had only said simple "thank you's" and "sorries," and Tree couldn't help but wonder why he was so quiet, and what could have happened on that rooftop. Usually, Black Hole at least added little comments here and there, but for the entire time after he'd found him, he hadn't said much at all. Finally, after he'd been all propped up with pillows and buried under the blankets, Tree'd told him to stay right there, before leaving the room and reporting back to the others.
All Tree had told Marker was that Black Hole really wasn't feeling well, and he needed some quiet time alone. Thankfully, Marker understood, and said he was okay with Tree spending some time alone with him for a while. After all, something had told Tree that Black Hole didn't want too much attention drawn to himself, and Tree didn't blame him in the slightest. Fanny, though, seemed to have a better idea as to what Tree had meant by what he'd said, and merely offered him a concerned look. For a little while, the three conversated, before Tree excused himself once more to return to his friend.
When he'd gotten back again, Black Hole had thankfully stayed where he'd been told to, having seemingly made himself more comfortable. When Tree had suggested a cup of tea to help him calm down, he'd agreed passively, and so Tree had fired up the kettle and made two cups for the both of them.
"Um... thank you, Tree," Black Hole half-mumbled, taking another sip of the golden-brown beverage. He seemed more content now; his voice took on a much less desolate tone, and his pearly eyes gazed down sleepily into the drink he held in his hands.
"No problem," Tree smiled as he sat himself on the other side of the bed, having just finished making his own cup. "Always helps me feel better."
For a little while, all they did was sit in silence, and drink their tea. There was a sort of serenity to simply sitting there and saying nothing; it was nice to have a little moment of peace when they could, before Tree would try to get Black Hole to discuss what had happened to him on the roof. He didn't want his friend to feel pressured to talk about it, and he really hoped the warm drink would help Black Hole decompress the way it usually helped him. Without really meaning to, Tree found his gaze frequently gravitating towards him; the way he blinked slowly, tiredly, bundled up in all those soft blankets draped around his shoulders and legs, the way he slowly sipped his tea... he just looked so nicely warm, and comfy, and peaceful. Though, even through that, Tree could still see the darkness behind his eyes. A lingering discomfort. He wanted to say something, or do something, but he didn't want to ruin this, to make it any worse. The quiet was nice. Just sitting here. Next to him.
Tree turned away. He didn't want to let himself look anymore. Stop being so weird about this, Tree, he thought to himself. He's your friend. But he could only bottle up so much more after three long years of continuously doing so. He didn't want to admit to himself what those feelings were, let alone to anyone else. So, he wouldn't. He'd just have to hold off until they died out. Simple as that, right? Easy enough. What's two more years?
"...Tree," Black Hole's voice sounded next to him, a bit clearer than before, but still raspy. His sudden speaking pulled Tree out of his mindspace. Tree blinked a few times, placed his empty cup on the nightstand next to himself, and shifted around a bit into a more comfortable position. "Mhm?" he hummed back, failing to restrain himself from turning towards Black Hole again. His friend was still looking into his cup, at whatever must have been left in it. He hadn't moved at all.
"I..." he started quietly, before trailing off, his eyebrows furrowing. Tree simply stayed looking at him, waiting patiently for what he was going to say. A few moments of silence passed, and it seemed like he was trying to formulate his thoughts into something coherent. And, as Tree had suspected, he picked back up again soon enough. "...I-I'm... sorry, Tree," Black Hole near-whispered, his face falling just slightly. "I'm so sorry."
Tree sighed. He pushed his glasses back up slowly, trying to gather the courage to apologise back. "I'm..." he said, before stopping to sigh. "I'm awfully sorry too, Black Hole," he finished, his own voice taking a similarly somber tone to his friend's. "I, probably, really, shouldn't have said what I said back there."
"No, you... Tree, you were right," Black Hole stated, his voice picking up just a bit as he spoke. "I wasn't... I didn't care enough, I..." he trailed off again. His expression tensed slightly, and then he spoke again. "I really did abandon you guys," he finally admitted, closing his eyes and extending a hand up to his forehead, running his long bangs through his fingers. "I abandoned you guys for that ... that damned rift." His voice almost broke on those last words, which forced out in a whisper instead. His hand clenched on his face.
Tree immediately recognised the words as his own. Damned rift. His heart sank to his stomach. "No, I–"
"I – I hurt you guys, and – I hurt myself, and – and I pretended like nothing was wrong, but everything was wrong, and I – I was being, like–" Black Hole stammered out, cutting Tree off, with a slight tremble gradually becoming more audible in his voice. Then, Black Hole turned his head, his hand still resting on his face; and, for the first time since Tree found him on that rooftop, he opened his eyes, and looked right at him. Right at Tree. Right into his eyes. And Tree could see right back into his. He could see every shred of hurt in his soul, through those misty white eyes. The sorrow, and pain, and love they held. How terribly deep they were. And then, Black Hole's voice lowered once again to a solemn quietness. Almost to a whisper, but not quite. "I... I hurt you, Tree," he stated drearily, his voice wavering.
No words came to Tree's mind. He started to open his mouth, to say something, anything. But he said nothing. All he could do was look. Look into Black Hole's eyes, and watch as he looked back. Isolation and despair and soul and everything. His wants. His feelings. How beautiful he was.
Tree longed to do something stupid and selfish. Something he'd probably regret. Something Black Hole might hate. Something he wanted so desperately. Something his friend absolutely needed. Tree closed his mouth, and then sighed through his nose, and then swallowed hard, and then he shifted forward, right up to Black Hole, and looked into his confused eyes for just a second more, and then he squeezed his own eyes shut and raised his arms and wrapped them tight around his best friend, above his shoulders, and pulled him in, and hugged him. And and felt his cosy warmth, and smelled his smell, and felt his soft, ticklish hair on his face. He felt him freeze. And then they were both frozen like that, for what felt like centuries and centuries, but must only have been a few moments. And then, after a few centuries more, Tree felt Black Hole's hands slowly fold over his own back. And then he felt him squeeze, too. And he felt his fuzzy warmth spread even more, through his body. He felt it throughout his fluttering chest and his burning face and his beating heart. He felt Black Hole's face nuzzling into his neck and his hair, his hands raising further up his back, up to his shoulders, holding as tight as they could. He felt his full weight pressing onto him, his warm, trembling breaths on his neck, his shaking shoulders, his short sniffles...
...wait a second. Those... was Black Hole ... crying? ... oh, orchards. Black Hole was crying. Actually crying. It took a little bit for the fact to compute – Tree hadn't ever seen him cry once in the past five months, in his entire time on Earth, and here he was, right now, heaving silent, muffled sobs into Tree's neck. Hell, for someone who, to Tree's knowledge, hadn't cried before, (or at least hadn't cried in close proximity with anyone?), he was awfully good at doing it so soundlessly.
Tree hesitantly raised one of his hands to the back of Black Hole's head, immediately second guessing himself as to whether this was even a good idea, and began to comb his fingers through his silky, dark, muted-blue-purple hair.
"I’m — s—sorry—" Black Hole choked out in a muffled whisper, following with a sharp, quiet gasp.
"...hey, you'll be alright," Tree tried a bit awkwardly, not exactly being too experienced in the field of comforting.
Black Hole’s only response was another muted "sorry."
For a while, he didn’t know how long, Tree sat there, tangled up tight with Black Hole, running his fingers through his soft hair, resting his head on his friend’s, letting his eyes stay closed, sometimes mumbling brief words of attempted consolation into his ear. He knew how uncomfortable he must have been, hunched over like that to lower to Tree's height, and he felt how he was resting his full body weight upon him, relying on him for support... and all the while, that little voice in the back of his mind accused him of being deeply selfish; that he was enjoying this, enjoying his friend’s suffering. That all he was doing this for was his own careless desires. That he was being intrusive. That he knew Black Hole didn't feel the same way, and still did this anyway. But it wasn't like Tree could just... stop, at least not now. And Black Hole was reciprocating his gestures, so he couldn't have been uncomfortable, right? He must have trusted him enough to cry in his presence; Tree knew there weren't many people at all that he'd feel comfortable doing so near. So, Tree let Black Hole get it all out. He let him cling to him like the world was ending, and heave stifled sobs into his shoulder, and gasp out as many apologies as he felt the need to. And Tree, for once, let himself feel. He didn't cram his feelings down, or tell himself it was wrong. Maybe, just this one time, it was okay.
It lasted a long while, a while Tree didn't mind spending at all; but eventually, Black Hole's weeping had slowed to a stop, and silence now filled whatever space was between them. From across the room, Tree heard his wall clock ticking idly, and the rain tapping gently at the window, the storm now having de-escalated to a mere sprinkle. Black Hole was still clutching onto him, arms tight against his back, face pressed against his shoulder, as if his life depended on it. Tree's glasses had been pushed up and off his nose all weird, but he was comfortable, and didn't exactly care awfully much to fix them right now. He also found that his fingers had still been absentmindedly brushing through his friend's hair, and he forced himself to pull his hand away, instead moving his arm to lay around Black Hole's neck, where his other arm remained. He was pretty sure it was wrong to wish he could just... stay like this. Holding, being held, feeling Black Hole's warmth, his soft breathing, his heartbeat's gentle thrumming...
"...can I sleep in here tonight?" Black Hole murmured suddenly, catching him off guard.
"Of course," Tree responded automatically.
It was shortly after his response that Black Hole pulled away, ripping the warmth from Tree's body, and instead replacing it with a rush of cold air. Black Hole's arms still rested around his back, however, and Tree's still lay around the back of Black Hole's neck. His face, now at an angle Tree had to look up at (damn him being six-foot-eight!), was partially obscured by his bangs, which were a tangled mess from his crying. His eyes looked off to the side, not at anything in specific, and just looked so terribly tired, as if he'd not slept for days and days. Tree imagined it really was like he hadn't, with the amount of stress he'd carried on his shoulders for so long probably keeping him up. But, even despite all that, Tree couldn't help but think he was, well, still kind of pretty.
"I'm, gonna go, uh... blow my nose now..." Black Hole sniffled, a slight, awkward smile finding its way onto his face. Roots, he was such an idiot... and Tree couldn't help but simply push his glasses up and smile back.
˚⭒☆⭒˚
A stuffy nose was something Black Hole still hadn't gotten used to yet. He hated how it got all clogged up, and kept him from breathing, and forced him to get up and go blow it all out. Being sick had been one of the most annoying things that'd happened to him when he'd become human, and he had no idea how everyone just lived with it. It made his head all throbby, and made him feel so drowsy, and really just sucked in general. And that wasn't all that different to how he felt now. Crying so heavily had practically had the same effect, and he could barely think straight. All he could think about was how comfortable he had been a few minutes ago. With Tree. And how, before he'd blacked out, all he'd wanted was to do exactly what Tree had let him do. And how it was horrible, and embarrassing, and how he never wanted it to happen again, and how amazing it was, and how it made him feel this weird fluttery-tingly feeling in his stomach, and how he wanted to do it again and forever.
He almost regretted what he had done earlier on the roof. Despite the fact it must've only been a few hours ago by now, it felt so weirdly distant from now, almost like it was a dream or something. And, actually, same thing with everything that had happened up until now, the crying, the hugging – he'd just been so... out of it, he guessed. And even right now, when his mind was a little clearer, things still almost didn't seem real. But his throat was definitely still hurting, and his hair was still a bit damp in some places, and his head was still aching pretty badly, and he was still in Tree's clothes. And, yeah... he still felt pretty miserable. Black Hole had to put a lot of willpower into thinking about things other than the rift, and how he felt completely and utterly useless now, and how everything was still horrible, and how the world was dead, and how something in him kept telling him it was all his fault and how he was a horrible thing and a murderer and ... No. Stop, he thought harshly, cutting his thoughts off again. Universe, he was so tired...
Finally, he threw away the last tissue. With a sigh, he turned back around and headed to leave the bathroom, only able to think about that nice warm bed, and Tree, and being with him again, and the way his fluffy hair smelled like apples. ...but, um, that might not have exactly been a normal thing to think about his best friend.
He exited the bathroom, closing the door behind him. When he faced the bedroom again, it took his vision a few seconds to blur into focus, and then he was greeted once more with Tree's room. Its non-vibrant colors were gentle on his headache, which he was still grateful for; but dead in the middle of it glowed the TV, which wasn't really as comfortable to look at. A menu of some sort played on it, spouting a song that he knew he hadn't heard before, but still sounded oddly familiar. Black Hole turned towards the bed, and there was Tree, just finishing up making it.
Tree turned to face him, and smiled warmly, that smile that Black Hole recognized as the one that was just for him. "Hey again, BH," Tree said smoothly, in the way he always spoke. Black Hole had always liked his accent, and wondered where he'd grown up, where it was from. Accents were an interesting subject to him, especially since he had a very similar one to the residents of Earth (well, the ones from this part of it), and no idea why. And Tree's, specifically, was his favorite. Especially after he'd become human, and for the first time, he could hear him speak loud and clear. The way he rounded out his words, how his voice was always so gentle, and kind to him... the way he'd spoken softly into his ear earlier... no, stop. Enough, BH, he scolded himself. ...Oh, wait, Tree had said something to him. Didn't he say hi?
"Hey," Black Hole responded uncertainly, his voice still scratching in his throat. He didn't have the energy to try and speak loudly, and the pain from doing so made it even less preferable to do so. He looked nervously down at his hands, and saw that he had been fidgeting with them again. He kind of didn't like how that was something that involuntarily happened a lot, without him knowing.
"I'm putting on a movie, if you'd want to watch it," Tree suggested, pushing himself back onto his side of the bed. It looked like he'd made it; the pillows and blankets were back in their original places, perfectly neat. It looked so comfortable. And he guessed a movie didn't sound that bad. He hadn't seen very many, but they were all really intriguing so far. Plus, it was... already running, anyways.
"Mkay," he managed, gliding over towards the bed. He crawled in, his hair succumbing to gravity as he grounded himself, and pushed his back to the headboard, pulling his knees in. The bed was still warm from when he'd been sitting there earlier, and it still smelled like Tree. That was definitely something weird that he'd learned about people: they all had their own scent, like how grass had its own smell, or bananas. But each individual person was unique, (even if they smelled kind of bad sometimes,) and to him, it just made life feel even more special. And something he really liked about Tree, was that, of course, he always smelled kind of like apples. Probably his shampoo, Black Hole imagined, since it was prevalent in his hair; but he was also Tree, so maybe it could've just been him? ...though, there was no way in helium that Black Hole was going to ask about it.
And, of course, he'd also really come to like beds. They were just so soft, and warm, and comfortable, and when he was all wrapped up in the blankets he felt like nothing could hurt him. The first time he'd slept, his friends had told him he'd been out for eleven hours straight, which he guessed was a long time. But, right now, he was pretty sure he could sleep for longer. And he wished he could. He... kind of wished he could sleep forever, and not have to deal with anything anymore. Not like he could really help much, anyways.
A sigh came from beside him. "Black Hole, I can tell when you start thinking about all that bad stuff. Your face gets all tense," Tree accused, gesturing a hand towards his face as if to prove his point.
Shoot, Black Hole's eyebrows had been furrowed. He rested them quickly, and turned nervously towards Tree, struggling to formulate a response in his muddled mind that wasn't another apology again.
"I - hey, don't worry, I'm not mad or anything," Tree quickly reassured, probably having read Black Hole's expression. He glanced towards the TV for just a second, before looking back, and nudging Black Hole's shoulder with his elbow. "Here, movie's starting. Make yourself comfortable," he offered, smiling warmly and clicking off the lamp on his nightstand. The room plunged into darkness, leaving the glaring television as the only source of light.
The movie seemed interesting enough. A handful of kids being punished for some reason he didn't know yet, at some sort of place he didn't recognize. But it started off kind of slow. And he felt so, so very drowsy. And the bed was so, so very warm. And it smelled like apples. Upon thinking of this, Black Hole had to resist the urge to look over at his friend. But there was just... something about the way his hair fell in wide curls around his face. Something about how the light from the screen reflected on his glasses, which sometimes slipped down his face, and prompted him to push them up again. Something about how he looked so relaxed right now, resting his back against the pillows, arms folded up behind his head, like he didn't have a care in the world. Something about his deep, kind, sleepy amber eyes. And, there was something about how warm he'd felt earlier... it wasn't the kind of warmth that left Black Hole sweating in his hoodie, desperate for a blast of AC. It was... different. It was a warmth he liked to be in. It was soft, and alive, and it made him feel all sorts of nice, fluffyish feelings in his chest. And it had made him feel the same way when Tree had gently brushed his fingers through his hair. The way he had cooed soft words of assurance into his ear. It had felt like Tree cared. Like he really cared. Like he would be there for him forever until the end of time. And Black Hole wanted to be there for him, too. For all of his friends. And he regretted every moment he'd spent rotting away in the sky, far away from them. from Marker, from Fanny. From Tree. He wanted to make it up. He wanted to bring the world back, and spend time with them, and help them, and live with them. With Tree. And his warmth, and his soft words, and his gentle touch. Even for just a little bit, Black Hole longed for it all again. To look into Tree's pretty, golden-brown eyes, and bury his face in his thick, fluffy hair. To hold him. Be held by him...
"...You okay, BH?"
It took a moment for Tree's concerned comment to process. Then, once it had, Black Hole found himself turning towards his friend weakly. And then just... looking at him. Not being able to tear himself away from Tree's eyes. Not being able to formulate any sort of response, any sort of answer or explanation for his friend. And Tree looked back, as if he didn't need Black Hole to say anything, as if he understood without even a single word. He was still resting on his back, arms behind his head, half-laid-down, propped up with pillows. Comfortable.
What Black Hole responded with in return was something he did instead of saying anything at all, and without thinking at all. What Black Hole did, was shift over the bed to Tree's side, crawl right up to his friend, pull himself over him, lay his head on his chest, rest his legs over his, wrap his arms around his sides, and then just... stay there. Laying down on him. Just like that. As if he was only hugging him again, but a bit differently. Seeking the soft, soothing warmth he'd known before. Seeking Tree's pleasant, familiar scent. Seeking the rhythmic, lulling sounds of his breathing and heartbeat resonating in his chest. Seeking him in his entirety.
Tree barely reacted when Black Hole crawled onto him. Unexpectedly, he didn't even mutter an "oh," or an "okay," or anything. All he replied with was silence, then a bit of shifting to account for his own comfort, before he laid his own head on Black Hole's, and finally raised his own hands up gently, one to rest tenderly on Black Hole's back, and the other to run through his hair again.
The movie ran as usual, the characters seemingly bored in a large, empty room. Black Hole laid in silence, taking in everything about Tree he'd desired for so longingly. Longer than just since earlier. Since hours ago. No, days, weeks, months, years... how many? Three? Four? He was far too tired to try and decipher how long ago things had started feeling different with Tree – all he knew was that it was several years ago, and that time started feeling all sorts of wrong after he'd become human. Something about being mortal, time dilation, something or other... the world went far, far slower now, but it felt so much more meaningful. Black Hole felt alive in every single moment. And, right now, everything just felt right. Almost as if this is what life was for. It was just him and Tree. Tree and him. Locked in a close embrace, one and the same. He knew it was probably kind of dumb, and likely also weird to think about it like that, but that's just how it felt. Like it was meant to be. Like he would never be alone again, in the far reaches of the cosmos, waiting trillions upon trillions of years in idle, isolated silence, for the day close to the end of everything, when he would finally radiate away. That scenario felt so far out of reach now, as if it was never going to happen in the first place. Right now, he didn't have to worry about that. He didn't have to worry about the rift. He didn't have to worry about being useless, or a murderer, or a bad teammate, or a part of the competition, or the way everything outside was ruined, or any sort of evil... none of that mattered right now. He could focus on it later. Just... a bit longer with Tree, first. With his warmth that he shared so willingly. With his satisfying, fresh-apple-tinted scent. With his gently combing fingers, and his quiet heartbeat...