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Karl didn’t know why he forced his body to move. He didn’t know why he even tried anymore, that he forced himself awake and continued to live. It could have been because the Inbetween was impatient, impatient always. Karl never had a say when he was swept away into time. So when he first gave up and tried to fight it, not leaving bed and begging to stay asleep, he was thrown anyway.
He would wake up surrounded by faces he didn’t know, some mean and some nice. And Karl hardly had the energy to deal with any of it. None of this mattered to him anymore. The Inbetween hated him for his lack of resolve, but Karl couldn’t afford to care. He’d been miserable and alone for years. The whole reason he willingly used to go along with it at first was because he had people he wanted to protect, people he wanted to help.
And, well. His house was empty.
But the Inbetween would send him anyway. So Karl had no choice until he rolled over and died to continue traveling, to continue taking that risk. While he was making coffee in his kitchen, idly staring out of the window, he felt the telling pull that he would soon travel. In minutes he would be swept away. He sighed, abandoning his coffee to go get dressed. He wore a cloak with a hood and goggles. He’d learned his lesson when he was tossed without remorse into the center of a sandstorm. He sat on the edge of his bed with a sigh, and waited for it to take him.
And then his consciousness slipped away.
He woke in a field of flowers. He sighed in relief, shutting his eyes as the sun beamed down on him. He was lucky. Out of all the places for him to fall, this was probably his best bet. He pressed his goggles to his forehead and rubbed at his eyes before sitting up. Had he been quicker, he probably could have stolen a few sips of coffee before he left. He took a deep breath and looked around.
And, interestingly, for the first time Karl felt as if he had been here before. Truly, honestly, Karl had been here. It wasn’t deja vu, it wasn't the present. He had no idea what exactly this was. He scrunched up his face at buildings in the distance. If he found someone, maybe things would start to make more sense.
The wooden path felt flimsy and yet soothing under his feet. It was worn, several people used it daily, he could tell. It was comforting in a way. There were people here; wherever he was, this place was thriving.
It’s quiet, though, and Karl was convinced he enjoyed it. He was taking a stroll through a worn, comfortable town. It was nice. The path darted off into different directions, but he continued forward.
Most of the buildings he couldn’t place. But he was convinced he had to keep walking. He found his body moving before his head could catch up, turning and taking routes he wouldn’t have thought of. His body carried him seemingly through muscle memory. Karl felt a little sick as he passed through an old brick building, with paths that went in four directions. It was eerily familiar.
He continued on.
The path led to a gorgeous castle made out of stone. For some odd reason, Karl remembered the name “Eret.” Whoever they were, this was their castle. He wanted to know more. But his feet decided not to stop. Far off in the distance, he caught sight of more buildings. And his body compelled him to travel further. He had not yet found what he was looking for, and wherever he was going was beginning to look newer and newer.
The grass here was walked on less, the buildings looked much cleaner and newly made. It was… nice. Alarmingly nice. It was everything Karl ever would have wanted. It felt like an old, happy dream where nothing could go wrong. It felt like a happy memory. At the end of this lovely town’s path, at its core, rested a house.
Karl almost laughed. Yes, this house. He remembered it, somehow. For some reason he remembered spending nights here, waking up here, living here. He didn’t know how long he stayed though. But him being here before gave him reason to walk in.
He gave himself his own personal tour, careful not to disrupt anyone sleeping or anyone that could be living there. There was a large library that he particularly liked on the second floor, shelved from the ceiling to the floor, and then an armory that confused him. He couldn’t place it. There was something off with all the armor sets, the weapons. Karl felt like he’d definitely touched some of it before, held his hands over them, washed blood off of them…
He heard footsteps downstairs and froze.
Here came the hard part. Karl would have to make up some sort of lie, some sort of story, that would warrant him snooping through the armory and the rest of the house. And even if the person refused him, at least he got to relish in these memories. He couldn’t quite place them, but at least they were there.
And that was comforting. He listened for the steps and heard them walk downstairs. They walked into the back of the house, where the kitchen was, and Karl heard water begin to run in a sink. Karl took a step toward the stairs.
And then the sink stopped in seconds. He paused in confusion, and cautiously took another step. For a minute, it was silent downstairs. And then the silence stretched into minutes. Karl swallowed. He didn’t know what to do. They probably knew he was here, didn’t they? They probably thought he was an intruder, didn’t they?
Karl ducked back into the armory, and shut the door so that it was only a crack open. He held his breath, and watched to see if someone would come after him.
Another minute passed, and just when Karl was about to exhale in relief, he caught the sight of a sword by the stairs. Whoever was after him had been entirely silent. They were probably the owner of all of the weapons and armor. And if Karl had to guess, they knew how to use them.
The person who was after him had their back turned to him. The person was large in size, sporting tons of muscles under an inconspicuous white T-shirt, large, bulking thighs hidden away by sweatpants. Karl didn’t stand a chance against this man, sword or not. His hair was long and dark, tied out of his face with a white headband.
He seemed... familiar. Too familiar.
He shook, and slowly he raised his left hand. He looked at the silver ring on it, and traced it over with his eyes. Karl glanced back up as the man turned toward him. Dark purple eyes met his, and Karl gasped and stepped back from the door.
He trembled, holding his left arm to his chest.
But that man had definitely seen him, and was in pursuit. But Karl hardly cared about that. In fact, he cared more.
He was home.
The door to the armory swung open, and there was a crossbow aimed at his face.
Sapnap dropped it immediately. “Karl? What are you doing home?, I thought you were going to be gone for a few days,” He said, and when Karl opened his mouth and nothing came out Sapnap continued, “And what are you wearing?”
Karl couldn’t move. He couldn’t decide if this was real. Was he dreaming? Was this some cruel dream? Had it really been this long… for the Inbetween to consider this the past?
Sapnap stepped forward, and Karl flinched.
He was real and warm and alive. It was insane to him.
“Karl?” Sapnap asked, definitely concerned, and Karl shook his head.
“I’m not who you think I am,” Karl rasped, stepping further away. “I’m not from this time.”
“You’re not what? Karl, what are you talking about?” Sapnap reached out to touch, and Karl flinched away. He couldn’t afford to let Sapnap touch him. He couldn’t afford to let this be real. Because if he did, everything would come out. Everything Karl had been feeling for the last five years would come out, and he’d be unable to stop it.
Sapnap let his hand hang in the air before dropping it to his side. He was giving Karl a look, but Karl was simply happy that he was here.
“I’m from a time in the future. You must,” Karl murmured, dropping his eyes, “Marry Karl. Before it’s too late, you must.”
“What? We haven’t even—who the hell are you? You’re Karl, aren’t you?”
“Stop it. You need to promise me you’ll marry Karl, and do whatever it takes to keep both of you safe. You must promise me.” Karl said, and his bottom lip trembled. Sapnap’s face softened. He stepped closer.
“Baby? Why are you saying this, what are you…”
Karl grabbed his arms and squeezed. “You must,” Karl said, feeling tears start to well, his voice pitching. “Marry him. You have to promise that you’ll stay safe, never throw yourself into unnecessary danger, never—” Sapnap grabbed him, and he started to cry.
“Oh baby, what’s wrong? What happened?” Sapnap tried to soothe, and that made things infinitely worse.
“Stop,” Karl sobbed, shaking his head. “I can’t—I can’t—” He wasn’t ready for this. Five years had passed, and he wasn’t ready for this.
“Can’t what, Karl? Are you hurt? Did something happen? You need to tell me.” Sapnap said, and Karl continued to cry. He pushed away, and Sapnap grabbed ahold of his hand, not allowing him to leave.
“Baby, no—” Sapnap cut off, pulling his left hand closer by his wrist. “What is this?” Karl didn’t answer, falling silent. Sapnap thumbed at his ring curiously, running it along the engravings.
It would have been normal. It would have been fine if they hadn’t had their rings purposefully made different from one another. Because when Sapnap compared, he saw the rings were the same.
“Who are you?” He asked, dropping his hand, and Karl let out a shaky breath.
“I’m your Karl.”
Sapnap stared at him. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m from a future where you’re not in it. And seeing you here, now, I can’t afford to live in it any longer.” Karl whimpered, tears streaming down his face. “It hurts too much. It hurts.”
“Nonono, no way. You’re not throwing your life away for me. Ever.”
“You don’t understand. Everything’s gone. I’m dying, Sapnap,” He whispered. “I lost you, and I died. I’m a husk, and I need you to promise me you’ll marry me. I need you to promise me you’ll stay safe.” Karl sobbed, and he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He threw himself into Sapnap’s arms and buried his head into his chest. “I love you I love you I love you.”
Sapnap wrapped his arms around him with ease. “Baby, I love you too. So much,” Sapnap murmured into his hair, squeezing as if he wasn’t ever planning to let go. “You’re why I’m still alive, why I continue to fight. You’re my everything, Karl.”
“Sapnap.” Karl repeated, soaking his shirt through with tears. He hasn’t held him in so long. He hasn’t said his name in so long. He hasn’t been so happy in so long.
Sapnap pulled away and cupped Karl’s face in his hands. “Baby,” He breathed softly, rubbing his cheeks with his thumbs, “I’m so sorry.” He murmured.
Karl choked and grabbed his hand, leaning into it. Warmth flooded his face, and Sapnap steam-pressed tears away, evaporating at his touch. Karl missed this. The day Karl had watched Sapnap turn cold to stay cold forever had been his worst nightmare breathed alive. It haunted him; haunted his sleep, haunted his life, haunted any relationship—platonic or otherwise—he ever made.
“I would never leave you. I don’t plan to ever leave you.” Sapnap murmured, and Karl sighed. He didn’t understand.
“You didn’t leave because you wanted to. You left… because…” Karl trailed off, and realization flashed in Sapnap’s eyes. His mouth pulled into a frown and he hugged Karl again, squeezing as if his life depended on it.
“Oh, baby,” Sapnap murmured, and he pressed kisses into Karl’s hair without pause, pressed kisses onto his face. Karl openly sobbed and clung to him, relishing in the touch. “You poor thing. My poor baby.” Sapnap murmured shakily, and Karl had never heard him so soft before. It made his heart ache.
Sapnap’s hands threaded through his hair and pulled him down to capture his mouth. Karl sighed into it with a sob, whimpering as they found each other and slid comfortably together with practice.
“I love you, Sap.” Karl gasped, and Sapnap kissed him harder, his hands latching onto his waist.
“Is that why you wanted me to marry you? Would that… would that help? What can I do?” Sapnap asked, and Karl shook his head.
“Everyone died, Sapnap. Everyone,” Karl murmured, shutting his eyes. “Is gone. I walked through the town today and I hardly recognized it,” he laughed dryly. “Because five years later it would become a crater and bathed in red vines.” He muttered, and Sapnap went tense.
“The egg?”
“Everything, Sapnap. Everything went wrong.”
“Okay baby,” Sapnap soothed, rubbing his back. “Okay.”
“I’m going to have to leave soon. I don’t want to, Sapnap. I’m going to miss you. I’m going to miss you, I don’t know how I’m going to go on without you.” Karl rambled, and Sapnap shushed him, pulling his goggles off of his head.
“I promise you,” Sapnap said, “I’m going to do everything in my power to make you happy. I will do anything. But right now, I want you to relax. You look so tired, baby.” Sapnap murmured, and Karl nodded. He was tired. He really was tired. “Come to bed, you can take a nap.” He said, and threaded their hands.
“I don’t want to waste our time together.” Karl weakly argued, and Sapnap gave him a small smile.
“I’m cuddling you to sleep, Jacobs. No fighting me on this, let me do this for you.” Sapnap said, and Karl had no choice but to give in. Sapnap squeezed their hands and began to walk them into what was Karl’s old bedroom. He shrugged off his cloak, throwing it aside, and climbed into bed into Sapnap’s arms.
It was awfully warm, and Karl wanted to fall asleep in seconds. Sapnap’s heartbeat was comfortable. He remembered sobbing over his corpse when he’d died, feeling for his heartbeat to no avail, warmth leaving him. But now it was real and beating beneath him. Karl smiled, and kissed Sapnap’s chest after he peeled his shirt off. Sapnap’s lips fell to his hairline, and they laid like that, lips brushing one another.
“Okay?” Sapnap asked, drawing circles into his back, and Karl hummed.
“Yes, Sap. So okay.”
“I love you, Jacobs. I’m going to love you forever.” Sapnap sighed, and Karl smiled wider.
“I love you too. I’m glad I’m here.” Karl murmured, and he yawned. His head fell forward into Sapnap’s chest, and he felt his eyes start to close.
“Goodnight, Karl.” Sapnap said, kissing him for the last time into his hair.
“Goodnight, Sap.” He breathed, arms wrapped around his waist. Sapnap squeezed, surrounding him with warmth.
When Karl woke up, he was cold and alone.
He sighed to himself, and raised his left hand. Sapnap’s ring. He smiled wryly, watching as the sun made it shine and sparkle. He’d already cried enough. He took it off and looked at the engraving.
Bad had made their rings when they first got engaged, hand-engraved messages written tiny on the inside. When Sapnap was killed, he was buried swiftly. And in a minute’s decision Karl begged to keep something of Sapnap’s and to bury something of his with him, all done through tears.
They traded rings as Karl cried, alone; as Sapnap’s body was covered with dirt.
Karl didn’t know if marriage would save them. He didn’t know if what he had said altered time. But he did know that he was nothing without his other half. Sapnap was undeniably his soulmate. And they knew it better than they knew themselves. Marriage would join them and complete them as they had always dreamed of, talked excitedly about.
He squinted at the text of Sapnap’s ring, old and worn.
“May your love be eternal and burning with devotion.”
Karl threaded it back on to his finger with a sigh.