Work Text:
He isn’t sure why he’d shown up to the arena.
Although his veins seem to be pumping blood all too loudly. His knuckles are white and clenched.
In the back of his head he knows.
And so he waits.
Waits for logic too kick his ass back into the car and make him drive to his true destination.
Jon takes several steps closer and finds himself getting in through a back exit.
The chatter assaults his ears. The arena staff is too preoccupied to notice him. He pulls his hoodie lower and sticks his hands in the pockets. He makes his way down corridors trying to avoid familiar faces.
He stops dead in his tracks when he sees Seth. That crippling feeling tugging at his heartstrings. Seth’s involved in a conversation but when his brown eyes slide to the figure at the end of the hallway, he forgets to breath.
Jon disappears before Seth can do a double take.
This isn’t about him.
This is about somebody else. A visit from darker times. Crazed blue eyes that have disappeared into a monster.
A monster that devoured his soul five nights ago.
Jon investigates the familiar spots. Every nook and cranny. He almost risk blowing his cover to ask Harper.
An hour in and he’s declared defeat. Bray is nowhere in sight and the logical side screams at him to run and forget these nightmares and ghostly touches.
He’s out into the cold night when he hears his old name. He knows that voice, the familiar crack in the vocal cords.
Jon chants in his head to not turn to not look behind. Seth shouldn’t see him, he shouldn’t see him.
Seth’s damn near screaming his head off when he fumbles for the keys and manages to get in the car and haul ass out of the parking lot.
His eyes sting but he refuses to engage.
He drives for two hours, hands shaking and eyes a red foggy mist.
—————————
Jon sits in the parking lot of a nowhere bar. The isolation hits him. He beats his fist into the steering wheel and he screams what he’s repressed for months. For the stupid flyer with Seth’s face that’s crumpled into his wallet. Roman’s untouched phone number. Every memory that washes over him like a typhoon.
His knuckles are cut and bruised. He steps out slamming the door. There’s a promise of drowning himself again here. He takes the furthest table in the darkest corner. The bottle sweats and he tries to calm his heart.
“A bandaid solution for a far greater problem” He doesn’t immediately recognize the voice but there’s a twang to a few syllables. His eyes slowly open and he’s there.
“Bray?” His voice feels so little in the bar. Bray Wyatt smiles but it’s different. He knows Bray like the back of his hand. A series of moments play in his brain. Colorful shirts, Rolling Stone songs and forehead kisses.
He’s so different yet the same. Beard cut and properly trimmed. He’s leaned out a little more, his long brown locks are lighter and in dreds. He’s dressed so casually, a dark jacket and some jeans.
“What- You’re different” Jon’s eyes follow his every movement as he takes a seat across him. His body language is different but with hints of his old Bray. “You’ve been gone awhile, I’ve done some soul searching if you will” He chuckles, the joke familiar to him and only him. Moxley cocks his head to the side. “You call five days ago soul searching?” Bray looks almost shocked. “Oh? Him? That’s a little different...my own bandaid” He rest his chin on his palm.
It hits Jon like a cement truck.
“...Husky?” Jon whispers it and Bray puts his index fingers to his lips. “Shhh” He smirks before taking a swig from the bottle. “That’s a dead name to me, to be fully honest I’m not sure how much of me is here and how much of him remains. Being possessed for six years is tricky” Jon laughs, he honest to god laughs and it cracks a smile out of Bray.
“What in the fuck did you do to yourself? What or who am I even talking to?” He leans in and takes a swig from the bottle as well. Bray shrugs. “To me, you’re talking to me” His words are honest.
Jon reaches out and touches his hand. It’s warm, alive. He cups Bray’s cheek, it’s familiar and real. His bruised knuckles run across soft lips. “He’s something isn’t he? Did you like him?” Bray’s smile is different though, not as manic. “Whatever he is, he’s fucking horrifying” Jon’s honesty makes Bray nod. “He is, as he should be. Don’t worry though, he won’t hurt you” Bray’s eyes change to the reddish yellow and Jon almost falls out of his chair. He gets up visibly shaking.
Bray outstretches a hand but Jon’s scared. “Please?” Bray looks somewhat apologetic. Jon’s fingers find Bray’s. “Please, don’t go. Not again.” Bray’s eyes are casted downward but Jon is shocked again when he sits and sees them.
Bray’s fucking scared.
“I saw you at the arena but...couldn’t...” He shakes his head. Jon swears he sees a scared little boy he saw on tv once or twice ten years ago. Jon’s shakey hands find Bray’s forearms. “I’m here now” he feels the need to comfort. “But you weren’t for a long time, I felt all that. I felt all this jealousy and hurt. I felt lost and then one not so special day I just-“ He leaned back in the chair and motioned to himself.
“Fixed it”
Jon hands feel empty. Bray runs a hand across his shaved side and chuckles bitterly.
“Do you remember the first time we fought?” Jon ask tentatively. He watches Bray’s eyebrows shoot up. “Two specifically” He smiles and they both laugh. “The bull rope one? Fuck I barely remember that, I forget that was you... you were just a...kid” Jon looks Bray over and remembers that time in space.
He was a kid himself back then.
“It’s foggy but I remember seeing you before 2014” Bray gets up at the same time Jon is fishing out his smokes. “Glad to see you’re steal doing that shit where you read me” The other man sticks his hands in his jean pockets and it’s all too much like old Bray there.
——————-
Outside Jon inhales and exhales smoke rings. “So you’re you but not at the same time?” He’s holding in smoke while he ask. Bray leans against the concrete next to him. “In a way” It isn’t much of an answer but he takes it for whatever it is. “You remember...us?” He feels shy suddenly.
“Oh I remember, darlin” Jon’s eyes shoot up to find a smirking Bray. “Fucker...”
They stand like that for what seems hours. Mox smokes and Bray quietly hums. He wants to ask so many questions but he knows now isn’t the right moment. He wants to ask him how much he remembers or how much is cluttered. Their history isn’t a short one after all.
“All in due time. No use in beating that pretty head of yours around.” Bray leans in close. It’s the first time his aura has felt more familiar to Jon. That dangerous and conflicting sensation he always left behind.
He isn’t sure why he doesn’t close the distance. He’s right there millimeters away from his lips. He remembers the monster from five days ago. He remembers the compound and the humidity. It’s a sudden rush of blood to his head.
Bray though, throws him for a loop and hugs him.
He hugs him tight, face buried in the crook of his neck and it’s so overwhelming to Jon. He tentatively hugs him back. It’s a familiar warmth and a familiar skin.
“Don’t disappear on me again, little lamb” Bray whispers against his neck.
The nickname swims in his brain. Too many hellish memories plague him at once. He rest his chin on Bray’s shoulder and shuts his eyes tightly.
Live with me in this sin forever.