Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cartoonz could still remember the first time he had love explained to him, the first time he learned why so many people walked around with cracks in their skin.

“ Mom, why is his cheek all ripped up?” Cartoonz was staring at a man on the subway unabashedly and the stranger flushed and turned away.

“When we get home, sweetie. Now stop staring, it’s not nice.”

He was eight. His mom sat him down on the couch, slowly pulling up her sleeves. It was a nervous habit of hers. “Cartoonz, sweetie, you know how Dad and I have stripes on our faces?” Cartoonz nodded, wanting to touch the pale strip of skin that curved around his mom’s left eye. His dad had a similar marking, but his was darker than the rest of his face, and lay across his cheek.

“Well, that’s how we know we're supposed to be together. You see, as you go through life, all sorts of things happen. Some good, some bad, but all of them inevitable. And…” She paused, trying to figure out what to say. “Well, after a certain amount of time – it’s different for everyone – the universe lets you know you’re ready for love, ready to find your soulmate. And when that happens, a piece of you falls off and leaves a crack. We call that a shatter, because people usually get one after someone breaks their heart.”

“How do you fix it? Doesn’t it hurt?” Cartoonz was curious, filled with questions.

“Well, of course it hurts, at first in the physical way, and it bleeds some and stings like any other cut. But it doesn’t stay like that forever; instead it hurts your heart. Knowing you’re ready to be with someone and that you have to wait for someone else… that’s a very different kind of pain. But it feels good, too, because knowing that is exciting.”

Cartoonz didn’t quite understand, but he let it slide. “How do you fix it?” he repeated.

His mom chuckled. “It’s called completing, and it works like this. When you get a shatter, you have to hold on to the piece of you that breaks off. We call that piece a shard, and what you do is you keep that shard safe because otherwise you can’t know if it's perfect. If you think you’re meant to be with someone, there's one way to know for certain.” Her fingers reached up to her pale strip of skin, and she smiled. “You can try to complete someone else’s shatter with your shard. The better it completes the shatter, the more you two were meant for each other.”

“But what if it doesn’t fit? What if one fits but the other doesn’t?”

His mom hesitated for a moment before answering her curious son, knowing full well that she’d have to answer the questions sooner or later. “That’s why soulmates are so hard to get right, sweetie. You may think you're soulmates with someone, but unless your shard completes their shatter you just know it isn’t right. It’s worse if one person gets completed but the other doesn’t, because that means your love isn’t returned, and that hurts more than anything.”

Cartoonz opened his mouth for another question, but his mom held up a hand. “There’s just two more things I’m going to tell you, and then I have to go work. We can talk more tomorrow. The first thing is that you never know where your shatter will be. For Dad and I, it was our faces. For some people, it’s on their hands, or their chests, or even inside their body. You can get your shatter and your shard at any point in your life, maybe even never. The second thing is that as you go through life, the shape of your shatter may change. Every experience influences you in some way, and some are big enough to change how you need to be loved or how you love others, and maybe your soulmate from before isn't your soulmate anymore. You may even be completed and shatter more than once. If your shatter ever changes, or even your shard, don’t worry. Sometimes the universe just needs you to change, and it’s perfectly natural.”

Natural. Cartoonz wanted to laugh as blood started to drip down his hand. This pain was natural, then.

Chapter Text

He’d been dating someone, both of them with new shatters. Cartoonz’s was similar to his parents’, a long, thin crack spanning from his temple to his throat. His boyfriend’s had curled around his wrist like a terrible and beautiful bracelet. Cartoonz was twenty-eight, and his boyfriend had wanted to see if they completed each other. Cartoonz’s shard fit almost perfectly, his boyfriend’s eyes widening at the rush of love and emotion that came with being completed. His hands had trembled as he pressed his own shard against Cartoonz’s face, and both their faces crumpled when it didn’t fit and fell to the floor.

Cartoonz had run away, his boyfriend sobbing and apologizing but not giving chase. Cartoonz was furious with himself for giving himself away so literally, for loving someone who didn’t love him back. He replayed the entire relationship in his mind, picking up on all the little cues that should have told him the truth, all the little moments he’d ignored in his blind love and hope that it would work.

He only came back to grab his things, his ex-boyfriend understanding completely, hardly saying a word because he knew it would just tear Cartoonz apart, and he didn’t want to hurt Cartoonz even if he didn’t love him. The last thing Cartoonz had to grab was his shard, but when Cartoonz held his hand out to his ex, he was greeted with a blank stare.

“Give it back,” he mumbled, wiping his face clean and wincing when his sleeve brushed his shatter.

“What?”

“Give me back my shard,” he hissed, getting angry again. “I want it back!”

“I – I can’t, Cartoonz, it’s not possible,” his ex said quietly. “Don’t you know?”

“What?” Cartoonz screamed. “What, what don’t I know, why can’t you give it back?”

“Once a shard completes a shatter, it’s there to stay. No matter what,” his ex whispered, looking down. “I can’t give it back to you.”

Cartoonz stared at the strip of skin in his ex’s arm, feeling like he was going to throw up. He did, once he got out the door and into the alleyway next to the apartment building, leaning over a pothole and staring as bile dripped from his lips. It was the one thing his mom hadn’t told him. Once it was used to fix a shatter, a shard couldn’t be removed or retrieved. He'd held back his tears until he'd reached a decent hotel and booked a room.

A few days later, Cartoonz had suddenly woken up to an incredible pain in his chest. He’d fallen out of the hotel bed, screams cut off as he hacked and coughed. When he saw a spray of red on the floor, he thought he was dying. A last spasm took hold of him, and he covered his mouth in a desperate attempt to keep his blood where it belonged, but pulled his hand away when he felt something more solid in the blood.

The red slivers in his hand were sharp, like giant, misshapen needles; he could feel the ends digging into his skin and his pulse pounding into his ears. He needed a doctor’s opinion to be sure, but he was almost certain that his new shatter was in his chest, and he was holding the shards of his heart in his hand.

Blood dripped from his lips and hand, traveling back down his throat in a disgusting sensation as he stared at the handful of his own love.

With a sudden gasp, Cartoonz dropped the shards and flung himself into the bathroom to vomit again from the feeling of blood down his throat and all that had happened a week ago. When he was done, he called his mom, left it on speaker on the sink, and crawled into the hot shower, fully clothed.

“Cartoonz!” His mom’s happy voice brought a pang to his chest. He didn’t want her to feel his pain, but he knew she’d be furious with him if he kept this from her. “Cartoonz, honey, what’s happening? Why can I hear water?”

“Mom, help me,” he cried, suddenly breaking down. His mom’s frantic questions kept him from sinking all the way into despair; he had to answer her, had to let her know what was happening. They hardly ever kept secrets from each other, and he wasn’t going to start holding back information now.

“I… I gave him my shard,” he croaked out, throat sore from crying and coughing and puking. “But his didn’t fit… and he couldn’t give it back.”

“Oh, sweetie…” His mom sounded relieved and sad all at once, and it hurt him more. “Do you want me to come get you? Where are you?”

“I’m – I’m okay, I’m at a nice hotel. But, um, there’s more – I got my new shatter… I need to see an amorologist.” Amorologists were doctors who specialized in the odd complications that could come with shatters and shards; they studied what made them physiologically possible, but still had no success in understanding it. “My new shatter, it’s my heart. I just coughed up some pieces of it, about ten minutes ago – “

“You what?! I’m coming to get you.” His mom’s voice was gentle but had the force of a nuclear explosion behind it. “What hotel, what room?”

He gave her the details and said goodbye, leaning his head against the wall after she hung up. He needed to pack his things, so he left the shower and gathered his shards, taking them to the sink to wash them off.

They were prettier when they were clean, he decided, reflecting the light in that strange glassy way all shards did. They were crueler as well, the points jabbing into his skin and drawing blood. It was only then that he looked in the mirror and saw that his face was whole again, healed by whatever circumstance had prompted him to cough up his most vital organ. It had been only two months since he’d developed that shatter, but it was already odd to see his face without it.

For the next several days, Cartoonz refused to let go of his shards. The pain they induced, oddly, gave him hope that he could find love again. Even when the amorologist told him that only a few insignificant scraps of heart remained in his chest, the rest replaced by whatever strange force kept this universe going; even when the therapist his mother made him talk to said that to fully know he loved someone, he needed to complete someone with just as many shatters as he had shards, making it that much more difficult to find a soulmate. Even when his mother broke down and told him that finding someone with their heart as their shard was a chance of about five million to one, and even when his dad sat him down to take care of his bleeding hand, Cartoonz relished the pain and the hope it brought.

Seven years later, Cartoonz wanted to throw the shards away. He was done; he was so done with love, with trying and failing to find someone that he not only liked but who had multiple needle-like shatters. Someone who didn’t just have a piece of their face for a shard, but their heart. All that in addition to being a guy who liked guys – it was just too much to hope for. If his soulmate was out there, the universe clearly didn't want them to be together.

Being single had once been just a bad dream, when he was back with his ex. It had been one of his worst nightmares. Cartoonz hated being lonely with a passion; as much as he could curl up with a friend and talk things out with them, it wasn’t enough to ease the ache in his chest. He missed feeling a real heartbeat in his chest, having an actual organ pump his blood instead of whatever sick force had replaced it. He missed having someone to kiss, someone to wake up next to in bed, and seven years of that loss had made him so desperate he was leaning over the edge, ready to give up altogether.

Take care of your shard, his mom had told him when he was eight, but he didn’t want to anymore. He didn’t want anything to do with his broken pieces.

With a small sound, almost a sob, almost a growl, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the bag that held his heart, not minding that he was sitting in public at the bus stop. He was thirty-five years old, dammit, he could hold his shards for the world to see if he wanted to. He tugged the drawstring open and spilled the shards into his palm, curling his fingers around them and breathing into the pain and blood they drew.

They didn’t bring him hope anymore, just pain. It still calmed him down; he’d used it as a coping mechanism for so long that the response was automatic. His breathing slowed, and his face returned to its normal color. The people who walked by the bus stop flicked their gaze at his bleeding hand, not commenting, and he ducked his face to hide the rising tears.

“Excuse me, can – holy shit, you’re bleeding, are you all right?” The voice changed from uncertain to near-panic in a split second, and he jerked his head up to see a familiar face.

The man, who was crouching next to him and tugging at Cartoonz’s bleeding fist, had been a daily part of his life for the past three years, ever since he moved to the States. Despite that, Cartoonz didn’t know a single thing about him, besides the fact that he was cute, quiet, and appeared to be a student in college.

Cartoonz watched in horror for a few moments as the man tried to gently uncurl his fingers. “Let me help, I’ve got first aid training, let me see what’s wrong.”

Cartoonz wrenched his hand away suddenly, scared of this kind man seeing what he was doing to himself. “No! Just leave me alone, just – “

The man frowned, still reaching out towards Cartoonz, and Cartoonz stared at his hazel-eyed face in astonishment as if he was eight years old again. Thin cracks spiderwebbed across the stranger’s face, starting at his lips and ending on his cheeks and nose like some sick parody of freckles. An embarrassed flush rose across the stranger’s face as he realized why Cartoonz was staring. The man had been shattered for two years, but it wasn’t until now that Cartoonz had really looked at the maze of cracks, thought about what it implied. Cartoonz thought that his shatters were nearly unique, almost certainly impossible to complete.

Almost.

Chapter Text

Two years ago

Ohmwrecker was crying.

It was a common occurrence for the thirty-two year old, and it caused his newly-declared ex-boyfriend to roll his eyes as he pushed the last of his belongings into a suitcase. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, it’s not like you’re ready yet anyways,” he said dismissively. He was referring to the fact that Ohm had no shatter.

Ohm hated himself in that moment, hated everything. He hated that he had broken down in tears again, over a man who was so emotionally abusive Ohm didn’t know how he was still sane. He hated that he was crying even though he was the one kicking out his ex, hated that he wasn’t truly angry with him despite everything that had happened, hated that he was scared more than anything else. He hated that he wasn’t ready to be loved when he’d been ready to love for so long. But that was Ohm; a lover till the end, a man who had been born holding his shard but without a shatter.

In the small neighborhood where he’d grown up, he’d been big news. Kids would come over to him shyly and ask to see his shard, staring at the glasslike heart with eyes the size of the moon. Adults would pay extra attention to him, teachers took special care of him, and an amorologist had come from another country to ask if he could run some tests. Ohm had been ten years old at the time and his parents refused.

As he grew older, the weight of literally carrying his heart in his pocket occupied more of his mind, affected more of his life. He’d been born ready to give his love to someone special, but wasn’t yet ready to receive it. The conundrum had led to rejection, fear, and even spite from almost all of his crushes and dates throughout his life. If confused him. Why did their inability to prove their love make them refuse his?

And so he’d ended up here and now, watching the latest in a string of awful boyfriends finish packing up before turning to Ohm with a strange expression on his face. Ohm was almost certain the regret he saw was false, but he so badly wanted it to be true.

“Babe – Ohmwrecker,” his new ex corrected himself. “I’m really sorry.”

Ohm nodded, wiping his eyes again and taking a shaky breath. He’d really thought he loved this one, but even with his sweet temperament he could only take so much abuse.

“Can I have one last kiss?” his ex asked.

Ohm bit his cheek for a moment, and then nodded. When their lips touched, Ohm felt a small twinge of pain, but it wasn’t until the other man pulled away that Ohm screamed. It felt like knives were jerking through the skin on his face, and when he clapped a hand over his mouth it came away covered in blood. His ex held the little web of flesh that had just peeled off Ohm's face, looking at it curiously. He redirected his gaze to the bleeding, crying man in front of him; and with a cruel smile – the same one he wore whenever he made Ohm feel worthless – he tucked the new shard into his pocket and grabbed his suitcase.

“You don’t need two,” he offered as explanation, and walked out the door, leaving Ohm to deal with his new shatter, the bloodstains, and his overwhelming heartbreak.

The amorologist had told Ohm that as cruel as it was, the theft of his newest shard wasn’t important when it came to his soulmate. Given that Ohm had held a shard through his birth, the new shard would have likely decayed and crumbled like normal flesh, since it was useless. It didn’t take away the sting at all, and it certainly didn’t make Ohm feel any better.

After that, he’d avoided love for good, opting to stay inside, do his job as a bartender, and show people kindness whenever he could. It was his way of coping, and it was why he’d approached Cartoonz when no one else dared ask.

He knew a bit more about Cartoonz than the other suspected. He knew Cartoonz’s name, for one, and that he liked to talk with his mom over the phone, and that his best friend was his distant cousin, a girl named Amelia. He knew that Cartoonz hated wearing gloves even when it was below freezing and that he worked for a bakery chain store as a secretary, and he knew that he played video games with a passion. But that was all he knew.

Now Cartoonz was staring at him without embarrassment, and he felt his face go red. He was used to the pitying comments by now, the apologies he didn’t need or want about how he’d have so much trouble finding love with a shatter like that, it couldn't be easy walking around with that on your face all day. He was expecting the same comment from Cartoonz.

Instead, Cartoonz just said, “What’s your name?”

“O-Ohm. Ohmwrecker.” He was taken aback by the sudden change in attitude; just a few seconds ago, Cartoonz had been yelling at him to leave, and now he was starting a casual conversation? “You’re Cartoonz, right?”

Ohm felt the flush intensify as Cartoonz kept staring, but he didn’t want to say anything about it. “Will you let me wrap up your hand?” he asked again, trying to get Cartoonz to look at his eyes and not his shatter.

“Oh – um, sorry. Let me just…” It was Cartoonz’s turn to flush as he pulled a small bag out of his lap and opened it, filling it with whatever was in his bleeding hand before returning the whole thing to his pocket. “Go ahead.”

Thankfully, Ohm always kept a small first aid kit with him, just in case. With an alcohol wipe, he cleaned away the blood, frowning at the large puncture wounds that finally showed on Cartoonz’s palm. He suspected the man was doing it intentionally, but why?

Cartoonz hissed some at the antiseptic spray, only to sigh in relief at the bandage Ohm wrapped around his hand and secured with a small piece of tape. The blood only showed through on a few of the wounds, but Ohm wasn’t overly concerned with anything except the large amount of scar tissue he’d spotted on Cartoonz’s hand. It was definitely intentional.

“Thanks,” Cartoonz mumbled, eyes drifting to Ohm’s shatter again. He stared for a long moment, then shook his head roughly and held out his good hand. “Nice to formally meet you.”

“You too,” Ohm responded, shaking his hand with a puzzled smile. “We’ve seen each other almost daily for a few years, I’m surprised we took this long to say hi.” He couldn’t help the next question that he blurted out: “Why were you hurting yourself?”

Cartoonz stiffened instantly, drawing his hand away. “Why did you sometimes show up with bruises on your face?” he countered, his eyes flashing angrily.

Ohm hadn’t known he’d noticed. That particular boyfriend had left about two and a half years ago, and he’d gone the extra mile in his abuse. In a moment of surprising insight, the ex had taken it upon himself to leave after his drunken rage nearly landed Ohm in the hospital. The memory stung, like everything else from his love life, but he wasn’t going to back down until he’d helped Cartoonz. “Abusive boyfriend,” he snapped, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow expectantly.

Cartoonz twitched in surprise at that, but didn’t respond negatively, so Ohm relaxed some. “Love,” he responded, and Ohm sighed.

“What about love?” He sat down next to Cartoonz, not missing how the other man kept glancing at his lips and his shatter. He ignored it; he was genuinely curious at this point, not to mention happy that he was getting through to Cartoonz, getting to know him better, and now he was especially curious about the man he’d seen every day for the past three years. There was a certain pull towards him that Ohm couldn't put a name to, but he thought it might be trust. It had been a long time since he'd trusted someone so easily.

So when Cartoonz suddenly said, “I tell you what, I’ll tell you if you’ll get food with me, I don’t want to talk here,” Ohm grinned widely and followed Cartoonz without hesitation.

Chapter Text

Cartoonz hissed in annoyance when he saw how crowded the café was. He’d wanted to talk to Ohmwrecker in private, but there was no way they wouldn't be overheard here, and Cartoonz only wanted Ohm to know his story. He didn’t know the man at all, but the fact that he’d been so desperate to help Cartoonz when he was bleeding made him feel good; it made him trust Ohm immediately, for some reason.

And it helped that Ohmwrecker was cute, that he didn’t back down when Cartoonz tried to throw him off balance. He’d surprised himself when he asked about the injuries; he’d thought they were lost in his memory, a quickly forgotten incident. Now, he could clearly remember the details, how the harsh wind that day had brought tears to Ohmwrecker’s eyes and turned his lips gray like his omega-symbol scarf. Even then, he’d been smiling quietly, as if he couldn’t help but be happy at the world.

How long had he been noticing things like this?

Their pastries arrived, warming their hands through the wrappers. Ohmwrecker agreed to go somewhere else to talk when Cartoonz became obviously uncomfortable in the crowd. "I'm following you here."

The only place Cartoonz had in mind was home, and as he unlocked the door he could feel rather than see Ohm’s surprise at his choice in location. “I figure that if I’m about to spill my sob story to you, I can at least be a good host and let you hear it in the comfort of my own house,” he said over his shoulder as he stepped inside.

Ohmwrecker smiled thankfully at him, and they moved to the kitchen island to eat, facing each other over the barstools. Cartoonz tried a few times to start his story, then shook his head again and drew out the bag. With a soft clink, he poured out his shards on the marble counter, and Ohmwrecker hitched a breath.

“These are my shards,” he said softly. “They’re from my second shatter, after the guy I loved couldn’t complete me, but I completed him. At the time, I didn’t know you couldn’t get a shard back.” The light reflected red on the surface beneath, as if they sat in a pool of blood. “They hurt like nothing else, but for so long, they gave me hope that I’d find love again. Now they just make me bleed. It’s impossible to find love with shards like that, not for lack of trying. I’ve dated more guys than I care to remember over the past seven years.” He took bites of the pastry in between sentences, forcing himself to slow down and not spill everything to Ohm in a rush of frustration. No matter how many times he told this story, it still hurt to relive.

Ohmwrecker stared at them, fascinated but simultaneously repulsed. “I – I didn’t know you could have multiple shards,” he mumbled.

Cartoonz laughed bitterly as he wiped the last pastry crumbs away from his lips. “That’s what happens when your heart literally breaks and forces its way up your throat.” His voice was harsh and pained, and Ohm flinched at the words. Silence swept over them for a long moment.

Ohmwrecker had an unreadable expression on his face. “You know, I always thought I was the only one who literally kept my heart in my pocket.”

Cartoonz stared, first in confusion and then in astonishment, as Ohm reached deep into his jacket before pulling out a perfect heart. It lay on the counter next to the pile of shards; Cartoonz felt like it was mocking him. And then Ohm started talking.

He talked about being born with his heart in his hands, how he spent his childhood being fawned over and sought out and mocked and babied. He talked about how having a shard but not a shatter scared off everyone he was ever attracted to, until his only options were bullies and abusers and he didn’t know any better. He talked about how his first boyfriend had cheated on him, how the second had disappeared, how the third had nearly broken his shard and the fourth his body. How the fifth had managed to break his skin with a final, cruel kiss. He talked about how that particular ex had taken his new shard and left forever, how he hadn’t loved anyone since or even tried dating.

The unbroken heart didn’t seem like a mockery anymore. Cartoonz would gladly cough up his heart a hundred times over than go through what Ohm had. His mind raced together, piecing together Ohmwrecker’s story with what memories he had of the man, and he was surprised by how much he’d secretly noticed about Ohm during all the times they’d never interacted.

Ohm tapped his fingers nervously on the counter, and before Cartoonz could really think, he’d reached over to grab his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Ohm took a moment to respond, returning the pressure briefly before withdrawing his hand.

That, right then, was when Cartoonz knew he liked Ohmwrecker, losing himself in a single emotional moment like he always did. Holding hands, if only for that short second, had felt more satisfying and right than any kiss he’d had since his heart broke. It felt solid and dependable, and he wanted to lean into the sensation and find out what it meant. Even as he thought about it, he wondered if it was just sexual frustration or genuine attraction, if he was drumming up the situation and reading too much into it. He was scared to find out, but he had to.

How long had he wanted something like that? Seven years, he knew, but maybe even longer; and to think he’d known the man who could perhaps give it to him for so long. He needed to say it, say something before he lost the rest of his dwindling conviction to self-doubt. Cartoonz wasn’t sure how to say what he wanted to, wasn’t even sure if what he’d felt was real.

He forced himself to swallow, his throat suddenly dry. “Ohm?” he asked, voice cracking for a moment. The other man hummed in response, staring at the hearts on the counter. “I have to confess… I am attracted to you. I think you’re cute and kind, the kindest person I’ll ever meet, and I hate what those other people did to you. I want to make sure that never happens again. I want to get to know you better, listen to you talk for hours about all the incredible things you’ve done. I want to figure out with you, whether I love you or not… and yes,” he flushed from embarrassment as Ohm’s mouth dropped open in shock, “part of it is because of your shatter. I’m not going to lie to you; this started with me thinking that maybe you were my only chance, because I’ve never seen a shatter like yours before.”

Ohmwrecker smacked a hand on the table at that last statement, startling Cartoonz into silence. “Of course you haven’t! No one has, everyone’s sad for me about it! I’m done with hearing all the apologies, all the wishes for best luck in finding love, I’m done with it! I’m done with people saying it’s unique! I thought you understood, just maybe, you understood why I didn’t want to hear it anymore – I thought you were done with love too!” He was screaming at Cartoonz, crying again, but before he could turn to leave Cartoonz put a gentle, hesitant hand on his arm.

As much as he wanted to, he refused to tighten his grip, not even sure if he should touch Ohm. He wasn’t going to ruin a relationship before it could possibly start by making Ohm feel trapped. His other hand picked up one of his shards, holding it up between them. Ohm turned to look back at him, the anger in his eyes fading when he saw what Cartoonz was holding.

“For me, having multiple shards isn’t a blessing. It’s not more chances to find love, it’s a restriction. I don’t have lots of shards because I’m polygamous or something. If I’m going to complete someone with all of my love, I have to use every single one of these fucking shards to do it. It’s practically impossible to find someone with a shatter that can take a broken heart, Ohm, that’s why yours caught my eye. And then… and then you force me to let you help when I’m injuring myself, you trust me with your story and take mine in stride; I stopped looking at your shatter and started looking at your eyes, listening to you talk for over an hour now.”

Ohm was staring at Cartoonz’s shard, his hand resting on his own heart. “Why are you telling me this?” he whispered. Cartoonz could hardly stand the tears that traveled down his cheeks.

“Because – because, fuck, you deserve to know. After all that you’ve been through, you deserve to know that I want to try giving you everything I am and have, I want to try my hardest to make us work – and that’s knowing full well that maybe it won’t, that maybe I’ll give you my heart and just get another shatter in return. I’m willing to break again, Ohm, just to have a chance with you, and that terrifies me. All of this terrifies me, but I don’t care! After all I’ve been through, I want some goddamn closure, and even if it doesn’t come from us I’ll know I tried. I won’t find it otherwise. And I want to try to find it with you, to give it to you as well.” He moved his hand to Ohm’s face, staring him in the eyes and holding up his shard again. “As much as I’m done with love, I’m even more done with not trying, and all I can hope for right now is you’re willing to try too.”

His pulse was racing, and he was certain Ohm could feel his hand shaking on his cheek. When he tried to tell what Ohm was thinking, all he saw was desperation and distrust. Maybe Ohm had been broken too badly by his exes, broken beyond trusting ever again.

Both of them held onto their shards. Cartoonz waited for Ohmwrecker’s response.

Chapter Text

Ohmwrecker ran a tongue over his lips, all that Cartoonz had said running through his mind. He didn’t know what to think or feel. The hand on his cheek, gentler than any romantic touch he’d ever felt, was trembling. He hated making Cartoonz feel scared, but what the other man had said terrified him more. Knowing how Cartoonz felt about him – he was uncertain; was he ready? He didn’t know. He just didn’t know.

The light was shining off Cartoonz’s shard, and he wondered what it had felt like, coughing up an internal organ. He’d never even had a heart in his body; he didn’t know what he was missing, how much Cartoonz might be hurting… but this was love they were talking about, not something as simple as patching up a bloody hand. His licked his lips again, saliva stinging in his shatter, and winced.

“Does your shatter hurt?” he asked, looking at the shard rather than Cartoonz.

“I stopped noticing it years ago,” Cartoonz said quietly. “But, yes, it still does.”

“Mine, too. Every time I smile or talk, I can feel them stretching. I don’t know how they aren't bleeding constantly.” He didn’t know where he was going with this. He was sick of not knowing.

There was only one test for a soulmate, he’d always been told. It was an all-or-nothing deal. But maybe, with Cartoonz, there was a way to test the waters before giving it his all.

“One shard,” he said, and Cartoonz frowned. “I can’t give you my heart, not yet.”

“I’m not asking for that,” Cartoonz promised. “If anyone gets your heart, that’s your choice.” Ohm felt Cartoonz's hand grow steadier in time with the hope that filled his voice.

“If – if one of your shards works, then I’ll know. I’ve been hurt too much, I’m scared to even try, and if this doesn’t work then I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let someone complete me.” He was shaking now, and he hated himself for it, but Cartoonz was rubbing a thumb along his cheekbone and comforting him as he held the shard out to Ohm. Ohm was surprised at himself, and at how quickly Cartoonz had figured out how to calm him down, as if they had known each other for years instead of hours.

He took hold of the small shard delicately. It really did look like a needle, just bent out of shape and able to deal pain sharper than any shot. Ohm tried to imagine his shatter so he could find where it went, but couldn’t visualize it. He looked at Cartoonz for help.

“I think… this one,” the man breathed, gently touching a finger to the side of a crack that stretched from the corner of his mouth to just under his eye. “It looks like it would go here.” Before he could doubt himself, Ohm pressed the shard to the spot Cartoonz had pointed out.

He wasn’t prepared for the joy and despair that swept over him, the fierce love and never-ending hope that took him like a wave and the pain that kept stabbing through him. He curled up and fell to the ground with a cry, but Cartoonz moved quicker than he thought was possible and caught him in a hug, burying his face in his hair and breathing quickly, nearly squeezing the air out of Ohm in concern. His panic wasn’t helping Ohm, but he was distracted by the wondrous sensation of being completed, if only partially.

“Ohm, Ohm, I’m so sorry, I should have warned you about it – “ Cartoonz was hyperventilating, eyes thrown wide as he tried to check Ohm for injuries. “I didn’t know, I didn’t know it would be that strong.”

Ohm sat up and felt the completed shatter, finding nothing but smooth skin. “It fits,” he breathed, “it fits, it worked.” He couldn’t quite believe it, but Cartoonz was staring at him with a look of such happy astonishment that he couldn’t deny it either.

“What was that?” he asked, still a bit breathless. He tried for a laugh but got nothing.

Cartoonz couldn’t help himself as he reached out and ran a gentle finger over the completed spot. “The same thing happened with my ex when I gave him my first shard. Not as strong, though. It was – I don’t know what it’s called, but shards hold onto all the love-related emotions a person has, or something. So when you get completed, all those emotions are released into you. I’m sorry,” he said again. “I didn’t – “

Ohm shut him up by drawing him into a hug, giddy and laughing hysterically, and crying again. That was love, all that was what Cartoonz felt for him. “I didn’t know either,” he said as Cartoonz hugged him back, “I never knew, oh my god that was just a little piece of you, you’ve got a dozen shards,” and then he could feel Cartoonz laughing against him and it seemed only natural to pull away and draw him into a kiss.

Chapter Text

Four years later

Ohm thought he was prepared for it this time, but it still made him cry.

Cartoonz cupped his face and planted kisses to his forehead as Ohm waded through the emotions that came with being completed. The emotions seemed a lot happier this time, but there was always a small twinge of pain deep down that pushed him over the edge and into tears, a small reminder of what both of them had gone through to get this far. He didn’t know if he could do this eight more times, with Cartoonz’s eight remaining shards, but he was determined to get through it, to feel just how much love Cartoonz had to offer. He pecked at his boyfriend’s – his lover’s hand, catching Cartoonz’s eye and smiling.

Cartoonz’s surgery had been a week ago, and he’d only been discharged from the hospital yesterday. The amorologist who’d placed Ohm’s heart in Cartoonz’s chest had explained that the completion had been a success, but the release of emotions had triggered a reaction with the anesthesia. Ohm nearly crumpled in terror until the doctor said that he would wake up; it would just take a little longer than they’d hoped for. He hadn’t left the hospital until Cartoonz could walk out with him.

Now it was Ohm’s turn. He’d refused to let Cartoonz complete him until he knew the surgery went well, until Cartoonz was home and safe to help him through it. He was glad he’d waited, in part because he couldn’t tell for the life of him what shard went where.

“You good?” Cartoonz whispered, smiling at the two thin red stripes that had formed on Ohm’s face. Ohm nodded, picking up the next shard, and gave him a quick kiss before letting Cartoonz guide his hand.

How he loved this man. He couldn’t believe he’d been scared, back when they first met.

The next wave of emotions swept over him as another shatter closed.