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It begins and ends like this: torn apart and brought back together.
You stare at Damien, Damien stares at you.
You’re both searching for something that you aren’t even sure exists anymore. Since escaping as the only survivors from that the nightmare that was that night in Markiplier Manor, you have tried towards one another for comfort and healing. It was another obstacle they could overcome as you have always done together. But there are some things that cannot be mended. Damien could pretend that everything was fine, but you couldn’t. That night had changed everything and broken something inside that you had believed could never be broken. Healing and holding on to one another turned into something unrecognizable and ugly. You’re so unrecognizable now that you’ve started to forget who you were before.
You feel his fingers twitch in yours, registering that you’re probably holding his hand too tightly, but acknowledging that you don’t want to let go just yet. He’s embracing from behind, you’re clasping his hands tightly with yours, your back resting against his chest. You are both crying.
You know that he doesn’t want to let go yet, either. Because once you let go, it’s done. You are done.
You take a deep breath, one that rattles your very bones, feels your heart beating wildly in your chest, feels your stomach churning and your mouth going dry. You let go of his hands and turn to face him. You lick your lips.
Damien rests his forehead against yours and watches through half-lidded eyes. He hesitates and only inclines his head slightly to capture your lips, but you press your fingertips against his own.
Something stabs at your heart, but you don’t move away.
“Please,” he whispers brokenly. “Please don’t do this…” a beat. “We can get through this. Together.”
Because it hurts. It hurt like hell. His two friends he considered his brothers and Celine were gone, and he didn’t know how he could bear it with you. Even how you were looking at him cracked something deep in his now fragile soul. It feels like a fundamental piece of him is being torn apart and cast adrift. His other half, his one tether in his life is now staring at him with nothingness in your eyes that threaten to reveal its true emotion. For a moment he thinks that you’ll stay and everything will go back as it was before.
And that was the problem. Together was what had gotten the both of you through the manor, what had given you both the strength to claw you’re way out and then to keep on holding on to each other through everything that had come after.
But you survived and are now physically safe and yet all you seem to do is keep dragging each other back down there.
Together.
“Not anymore.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“NO!”
For an instant the report of the gun leaves you deaf. The sound tears through the air like a solid wall of glass and shatters the peace. Then, the world moves without sound.
In one instant you were standing, and then the next you were shoved roughly to the ground, the breath knocked out of you. You feel the sting as you land on a million tiny, sharp stones, skidding slightly on the ground. Gasping for air, you blink rapidly, as it has all happened so fast. Everything is fuzzy as you try to collect your thoughts. The charity gala at town hall… Damien attending as well… you avoiding him all night…. walking out to leave for the evening… a raving man steps out of his car, waving a gun… he’s walking towards you… but then Damien… oh god Damien! You lift your head, and your heart plummets to the pit of your stomach to see Damien fall on his knees, his blood blooming like a scarlet flower on the front of his tuxedo and falling on the streets.
“No!” You scream. You can’t move. Can’t take your eyes off the red stain slowly spreading over Damien’s shirt.
Suddenly, what has transpired between the two of you these past months doesn’t matter. Your attempt to hide your loneliness and pain from the separation melts in the face of your friend and former lover’s injury. You can’t help it; Damien has always been there for you throughout the years. You inspired and protected each other. And now, he needs you.
At the sound of another crack of a gun, you whip your head up to see bodyguards and passerby apprehend the assailant, shocked and crumpling to the ground with his hands covering his abdomen, not moving. For a bitter moment, you hope he was dead. It wasn’t meant to be like this. That bullet was for you, not for Damien.
“Damien,” his name tumbles out of your mouth in an urgent whisper.
You ignore the searing pain of your scraped knees as you half scrawl, half skid on the ground to beside him. To your shattering heart, you could see he was hit in the chest and the blood continues to pool below him. This close, you can see how bad Damien really is. His skin is alarmingly pale, his breathing is labored and he is obviously having trouble focusing his eyes.
Numb fingers work quickly, you tear at the material of your coat. Folding it and placing it underneath his chest, pressing down hard to stop the bleeding. Damien shakily rest his hand against your own. The bitter scent of copper fills your nose and his hand is warm and wet, and you blink your eyes rapidly to put down the tears that threaten to swim forward.
Damien’s hiss of pain grounds you.
No, no, no no nononononono.
The fear, dark and intense curls your stomach, making your head spin. You know this sight would haunt your nightmares in years to come.
Damien’s head rolls towards you, his eyes taking a second to focus on your face.
“Y/N…You’re alright.” Your name falls from his lips this time in the sweetest and tenderest of tones. He says it as a statement but his eyes question you, eyebrows creasing in worry, wanting reassurances. Always the one to worry about others instead of himself.
You want to laugh, but you’re afraid that you’ll just begin crying. You needed to be strong for him. So instead you nod your head, squeezing his hand.
“I’m fine, Damien. I’m alright, you saved me, but I think we should worry about you now.”
Despite much effort on your part, the words come out thick with emotion as the full reality of what Damien has done hits you.
A weak smile lights up Damien’s face for a moment before a coughing fit takes over. Your heart jolts in fear, and you try to comfort and support him at the same time. Where was the damn ambulance? Why wasn’t anyone helping?! When Damien’s breathing finally returns to some semblance of normal, there are spots of blood on his lips.
Damien struggles to stay conscious, to focus on your face.
Breathing still seems to be taking more concentration than usual, so you attempt to keep him distracted until help could arrive. You try to keep Damien conscious and distract him from the pain. You apologize for ignoring him and regale him about stories from university, and promising him that everything will be alright.
But you were having trouble believing that as well.
You try not to show it, but you are losing hope. Damien is fading fast. Red is starting to seep through the coat and his grip on your hand is weak and cold from lack of circulation. You can hear how much effort it is taking for him to breathe. He coughs and the labored, rattled breathing, and you realize that the bullet must have damaged a lung.
His skin has been growing paler and paler as color of fresh snow. All you can see is scarlet blood. It’s on yours and Damien’s hands. It’s on your dress. It’s on Damien’s suit. It’s on the street. It was everywhere. So much blood.
Your heart sinks lower.
Reality begins to set in.
The screams and noises from the crowd have quieted, but you don’t hear the distant whine of sirens yet.
No. No, this isn’t happening.
Another cough rattles through Damien’s chest, drawing your attention. You turn back to him, supporting him. The coughs seem to go on longer than before. Damien struggles to draw a full breath between hacking, not so much breathing as gasping in air.
It seems to drain Damien’s strength. His eyes drift shut.
A bubble of panic wells up in your chest.
“Damien?! No, no! Come on Damien, look at me. Open your eyes,” you plead, releasing Damien’s hand and reaching to cup his face instead, “you have to stay awake for me.”
Damien opens his eyes slowly and with great effort.
“Only for you, little monster.”
Despite yourself, you let out a broken sob and a brief, miserable laugh. You gently wipe away the blood from Damien’s pale lips.
Damien tries to sit up, but you push him down, reassuring him that help was on its way, but your hope was beginning to wane.
“You need to save your strength. Y-you’re going to be fine-”
“Y/N…”
The way he says it, the soft pleading in your name, his voice sounds so pitiful. You try to ignore how you could feel his heartbeat fading.
“Why?” you demand, lip quivering. “Why did you do that?”
“I- you-,” Damien sputters, taking in air with mere gasps. He reaches his shaky bloodied hand towards your face. You grasp the hand to steady it and press it against your own cheek, kissing his palm, ignoring the blood that now paints your face.
“So beautiful,” Damien smiles weakly.
“Don’t,” you whisper, your words soften by the sad smile on your lips. “Why did you do it?”
“Even if you don’t love me anymore,” Damien whispers, his eyes shining with tears as he shakes violently, blood escaping from his wound. “I can’t bear living in a world without you in it.”
That does it. Rivulets of tears stream down your face. Let it ruin your makeup. Let him and everyone see how his selfless and selfish act is affecting you. Because it hurts. It hurts like hell. You tried living without your other half and cast adrift into orbit on your own, but being faced with the actual reality was something much more different that you couldn’t bear.
“No, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get it, do you?” you shake your head. “I never stopped. I don’t think I could.” your voice trails off, eyes locked with his.
“I just wish we could’ve had more time,” Damien rasps. “Too late… too late…”
And you’ve have the same sinking feeling in your stomach. Still too damaged, and they’ve run out of time to do anything about it.
Slender fingers tangled in the in falling strands of dark hair, you lean down and you lull your forehead against Damien’s and he tries to ignore the labor breathing and fainting heartbeat.
You both do.
“Don’t talk like that,” your fingers continue to comb through his hair. “We’re together, and everything is going to be fine.”
Damien’s eyes grow hazy and half lidded, “Together?”
You nod, the words getting caught in your throat, “Like always.”
You look at Damien, and Damien looks at you.
You’re both not the same people anymore, you’re almost unrecognizable from who you were when you both met, or when you fell in love, or that night in manor, or your separation. And yet your hearts still beats for one another like they did on that night you met. It still exists.
You feel his fingers twitch in yours. Registering that you’re probably holding his hands too tightly, but acknowledging that you don’t want to let go just yet. He holds your hands just as fiercely.
You are both crying.
You know that he doesn’t want to let go yet, either. And that’s okay, because you want one last moment where you are anchored together.
You take a deep breath, one that rattles your very bones, feel your heart beating wildly in your chest, and feel your stomach churning and your mouth going dry. You lick your lips.
Damien watches through weak half lidded eyes, and you think about kissing him. So you do.
Because it’s the last one they will ever have, and it shatters your heart into a million and one daggers, slicing away at the very depth of your being.
You try to speak, but found the words caught in your throat as another sob threatens to erupt. But he looks at you, and you look at him, and you know that there’s no need to say it aloud. There is an understanding in your eyes as each second passes. There is no need.
I love you, I love you, please don’t leave me.
“I do,” he rasps back, “I do…too.”
I love you, I love you, I’m sorry that I have to leave.
Thump… thump…
“We never really did have a chance, did we?” he asks. Everything inside him aches with it. “I just hope that we’re luckier in another time.”
Damien looks at you one last time, knowing there is so much more he wanted to do. So much more he wanted to say, guilt ridden that he has to leave you, and all he could say is…
Thump…
“I’m sorry…”
Thump…
It is at that moment that something…breaks inside of you. Something you knew you would never be able to fix again.
Thump…
You can’t breathe, feeling as though the same bullet has pieced your own lungs as Damien’s face slacks. “No, don’t. Don’t you dare. Open your eyes, Dames,” you command brokenly, shaking Damien’s shoulder. “ Damien… ”
But there is no answer.
You watch as someone you saw as your everything, his life leaves his own body, your hands are shaking. It was agonizing, the thoughts of what should have been, but could never be. What would never be.
For just a brief second, you think you could feel a cold caress along your hair, a kiss on your cheek from the man you have been in love with for so long, but there is nothing.
Only the sounds of hollowed out sobs and a heart breaking.
And so it begins and ends like this: torn apart, sewn together again from tragedy, only now to be left with nothing.