Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"You know, I've been concerned lately," Specter says.

"Oh? What about?" Propeller Knight looks over at him.

"Well… I worry that people may think our relationship promiscuous."

"Ha! Promiscuous?"

"Well, there is a perceived age difference…"

"Donovan, honey…" Propeller Knight turns to his side to face him. "You shouldn't bother yourself with what others think of us. You don't look a day under 40 anyway."

Specter laughs. "I suppose you're right. At least I feel old!"

Propeller laughs as well. "And I suppose I finally understand how you feel. My back has been killing me for days now."

"We're rich, love. You can afford to see someone about that."

"My back can't afford getting out of bed half the time!"

Specter laughs, finding himself once again enamored with his lover's face. Decades have gone by and he still loves him all the same. Hardship and good fortune alike… the two have been through so much together. Donovan didn't think he could have a good life after the events of the Order and his time under the Enchantress. But by some miracle, Propeller had reached through all of his doubts to let him know it was worth continuing, if just to see if tomorrow might be better. And by all accounts, tomorrow had come. And Donovan was happy.

But still, talk of age always got him thinking. He knows what they have right now will not last forever. He knows that despite the comfort he feels in his partner's arms, he will someday wake up to find him gone. And someday is approaching quicker with each passing day. Propeller Knight is not that old, but… he is sick. Should his doctors find a way to cure him, he could live perhaps another thirty years. But every day he goes without help is a day taken off the end of his life.

And that terrifies Specter.

He knows he shouldn't bring it up, but… the two have lapsed into silence. He knows he's thinking about it too. So, against his better judgement, Donovan opens his mouth.

"Adrien, darling…"

"Yes, love?"

"You know I worry about you."

"And I you."

"You have no reason to worry about me… I'm not going anywhere, not even if I wanted to. And I'm happy. But you, I- You have your health and your age and…"

"Donovan, love. I know where you're taking this."

"I…" Specter stutters a few times before shutting his mouth.

"...I cannot say how much longer I have here. No one can. That is not our place as humans to predict. But I can say that whenever it does happen, I will hold no regrets. I have led a very, very good life. Achieved fame and glory."

"And riches," Specter adds.

"Haha, yes, and riches," Propeller says. "There is nothing left I want to see, but your face every day. Until I can't anymore."

Specter is silent. He isn't sure what to say. Of course he's touched by the sentiment, but… As ironic as it is for him to say, of all people, he hates to think about death. The idea of an end to all things, the end of perception, the end of him … scares him to no end.

"What would you do, afterwards, if it were me?" He asks.

"Hmm…" Propeller thinks for a moment. "I would want to honor you, in as many ways as I could. I'd name a ship after you. I'd-" He pauses, knowing Donovan tends to be intimidated by grand gestures. "Well, small things."

Specter laughs. "Small like dedicating a ship in my name?"

Propeller laughs as well. "Well, if you insist!" He pauses. "What would you do for me?"

"I would want to do what I knew you would want." Grand gestures. "Unfortunately, I think all the ships are already in your name…"

Propeller laughs. "I wouldn't mind something humble. I know you excel in that."

"Well, in that case… Ah, it's silly. I'd like to bury you in the Lich Yard, next to– the rest of us." Specter had a sort of collection growing. A set of graves, lined up next to each other: Luan's, Reize's, and at the other end, Donovan's himself.

"That sounds nice," Propeller muses.

"It does? It seems so humble for you."

"Perhaps, but… I did say I'd like to spend eternity with you. Our graves next to each other… Isn't that a nice thought?"

"...Yeah," Specter says. "It does."

"Ah, I just wish I could be there to see it all," Propeller continues. "That truly is the infuriating thing about death, is it not?"

"What?"

"Well… the world continues on without you. I've accepted that. I know that well. The world will continue without me, but… People will talk. People will mourn me or remember me in their own ways, whether that's good or bad. And I'll be there to see none of it. It almost makes honor feel pointless."

"...I see."

"That doesn't mean I don't want it, though," he teases. "I just… wish I had the time to know what the world would do in my absence. I wish I could stay after I'm gone."

"I know about that far too well," Specter murmurs. "It is not as pleasant as you'd expect. But… there is you."

"Of course. And there is you."

"And you're what makes it worth it," Specter says. "Imagine an undeath without me. Quite a lonely existence, I'd believe."

"I can imagine." Propeller falls silent for a moment. "Donovan?"

"Yes?"

"When I… When it does happen. Promise me you won't let it ruin you. Promise me you'll keep going after this. I… I know how it strongly it affected you when Reize died, and I know that Luan–"

"Luan is different," Specter says. "You could never be Luan."

Propeller chuckles. "That's the only way I want to hear that. But I mean it, Donovan. Please keep some lightness in your heart for me. I know you when you're depressed, and it hurts to see. I never want to put you through that, especially when I can't help you."

"I understand," Specter says, reaching out and wrapping an arm around his lover's waist. "I promise. But all this talk is of things that will not affect us for quite some time, no? For now, I want to keep enjoying these lazy mornings with you."

"Of course, love." Propeller closes his eyes. "And what a lovely morning it is."

Chapter Text

Weeks turned into months past, and Propeller Knight's health began to slowly decline… and then it began to rapidly decline. Specter had been picking up the slack on managing the crew in Propeller's bed-ridden absence, and his doctors were attending the knight more often than not. He rarely got to see him anymore, typically being ushered away by some work he needed to address, or by Propeller's doctors, who claimed they needed space to work.

Finally, there comes a day where he can visit him in peace. They've landed the ship by the ocean, and Specter plans to surprise Propeller with it.

Poking his head into the captain's quarters, he calls his name gently. "Adrien, darling…" No response. He must be asleep. Donovan enters, shutting the door carefully behind him. He approaches the bed, sitting down and placing one hand on Adrien's.

"Love, wake up," he says, squeezing his hand gently. "I want to show you something."

Propeller makes a small sound before his eyes flutter open. "...Good morning, love," he says with a smile.

"Good morning. Do you know where we are?"

"No?"

"I've brought us to the beach today. I think the warm weather could do you well." He's been in his room for weeks. "Are you feeling well enough to get out of bed?"

"Mm, well when you say it like that…" Propeller shifts and slowly sits up. "I'd love to. Shall we?"

"Of course," Specter says, smiling.

After necessary arrangements are made, Propeller is brought in a wheelchair to the beach.

"Sand is less than ideal for navigating in every sense," Specter mutters. Propeller laughs.

"If this was too much of a hassle, we can always go back," he says.

"No! No, I want to do this," Specter insists. "It's no trouble at all, I promise." He brings the two of them closer to the water before stopping.

"...Will you sit with me, love?" Propeller asks. "I want to see you."

"I brought you to look at this beautiful scene," Specter says, "and you want to see me."

"Of course."

Specter can't help but smile. He obliges, sitting down next to Propeller's chair.

"When was the last time we were here?" Propeller asks quietly.

"At least a year," Donovan replies. "Maybe several."

Propeller is quiet for a moment before sighing and closing his eyes. "Nothing is the same anymore…" He says. "Last time we were here, I still had my strength. Now I can't even leave my room most days."

"...I'm sorry," Specter says. "I didn't mean to upset you with this."

"Don't be," Propeller says. "It's all right." He opens his eyes. "Things never get truly better in the world. Some things do, but in the process of change, some things get worse. There is always an equal amount of good and bad in the world, no? For every day I spend too sick to move, there is a beautiful day like this one. And in our worst moments, it is important to remember that it can only mean something truly good is around the corner."

"Is that directed at me?" Specter asks.

"Is it?"

Specter chuckles. "I love you."

"...Donovan, sweetheart?"

"Yes?"

Propeller pauses, as if he's making sure he even wants to ask. "I… want to go feel the water."

"Okay," Specter says, standing to bring him closer.

"N- no, I–" Propeller continues. "I want to walk there."

"...Do you think you… A- are you feeling well enough to do that?"

"I want to walk there," Propeller repeats.

Specter is hesitant, but… he wants to make today good for him, more than anything else. So he moves back to the other side of the wheelchair, and extends a hand to help his lover stand.

Propeller takes it gratefully, his other hand bracing the side of the chair, and he hoists himself upward with a groan. He takes a moment to steady himself, leaning slightly on Donovan. Then, still holding his hand, takes a cautious step forward. Specter follows his movements, moving just behind his pace. A second cautious step, and then a third more confident one– which is caught by Propeller's knees buckling, and then caught by Specter himself.

"I'm here," he says. "I'm with you. If you want to sit down, I c–"

"No," Propeller says. "I can do it."

"Okay. Lean on me if you have to. I'm right here."

Propeller straightens a bit, steadying himself once more, before continuing. Each step now is deliberate, and with the added support of Specter's arms, they slowly but surely make their way to the edge of the ocean. Propeller steps into the water, and slowly leans away from Specter, steady enough to stand on his own.

He laughs, in disbelief. "I did it. It's lovely." Specter smiles, and he turns to him. "Join me, darling."

"Wh- what? Me?"

"Yes! Come join me!"

"I'm in my clothes!"

"Take them off!"

Specter can't say no to him. He pulls off his boots and rolls up his pants past his ankles, wading into the water.

"...You're right," he says. "This water is lovely."

Propeller is beaming now, so much so he couldn't stop even if he wanted to. "It's wonderful, Donovan. This is so wonderful."

"Anything for you," Specter replies, grinning as well. "I'm glad you're enjoying it."

Propeller Knight reaches a hand out, and Specter takes it, and then his other hand. They stand there, facing each other and holding hands.

"I love you," Specter says without much thought. His heart is full. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, darling," Propeller responds. "To the moon and back."

They both fall into silence for quite some time, enjoying each other's company and the scenery of the beach. Words are shared sparingly between each other for the next few hours as they continue the day there. Until finally, the sun begins to slowly set over the horizon of the ocean.

"This has been a perfect day," Propeller Knight muses, sitting down once more. "I had a wonderful time."

"As did I," Specter replies.

"Are you ready to go back?" He asks.

Specter hesitates. "...Yes."

"You don't sound ready."

"Well, I… It's just that, when we go back, I know we'll both inevitably be whisked away by different people for different reasons," Donovan explains. "And I've enjoyed spending time with you so much."

"I understand." Adrien pauses in thought for a moment. "When we get back, I could always tell my crew to give us privacy. I'd just like to have a pleasant dinner with you and go to bed. They would respect that.

"And what's more, I feel better than I have in quite some time. And we've both been too busy to even share a bed lately…" He pauses again. "I think we both need this. I'll see it done."

Donovan says nothing, watching the sun some more. Did they both need this? He hadn't considered his own state of mind so much as Adrien's until now. But… he does feel very calm. Happy, even. So much so that he only now realizes the amount of stress he'd shed in coming here. Maybe they did both need this. And he's as grateful to his partner as Propeller likely is to him. He smiles.

"Shall we head back, then?" He says finally.

"Let's."

The two return to the Flying Machine, where Propeller Knight fulfills his promise and tells his crew to leave him and Specter be for the evening. They have their dinner in the extravagant dining hall that Propeller reserves for fancy occasions, and then take their leave to the bedroom once again.

After laying together in silence for a while, Adrien finally speaks up.

"Thank you, Donovan. For everything," he says. "Today was absolutely wonderful in every way."

"It's more than my pleasure," Donovan replies. "I had just as good a time as you."

"...I think, standing in the water with you… I felt like I had fallen in love all over again," Adrien says. "It felt like we were young again, realizing our feelings for the first time. It was the same exciting bubble in your stomach, you know? Feeling like you're at the start of something wonderful."

"Yeah…" He hadn't thought of it like that until now.

"I feel completely refreshed!" Adrien proclaims. "I feel fantastic!" He turns to face Donovan. "I feel… I feel…" He trails off, and Donovan knows he doesn't need to finish. He can see everything in his lover's eyes. Happiness. Love. And Donovan knows he's happy, too. He moves forward, and Adrien matches the movement- the two meeting in the middle and kissing. Deep, slow, wonderful… cut off only by Adrien pulling back to yawn. Specter giggles.

"You tired?"

"Mm, perhaps…" He's clearly sleepy. "Maybe it's time for me to sleep."

"Well, I'll be here," Donovan says. "I'll see you in the morning, love."

"I love you," Propeller Knight says softly, his eyes already closed.

"I love you too," Specter says back.

He watches him resting for a while, his features relaxed and peaceful. He looks younger like this, and Donovan is reminded of an earlier time. The thought of Adrien's health isn't at the forefront of his mind anymore, in fact, it's barely there at all. It feels like all his worries have since been washed away.

And so, feeling happy and secure, Donovan closes his eyes too, and falls into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

Propeller Knight dies in his sleep.

Donovan wakes up the next morning, feeling somehow more warm and fuzzy than he did the evening before. He smiles softly at the sight of his partner next to him.

"Good morning, love," he says, to no response. "Mm, how did you sleep?" Still nothing.

Donovan isn't put off by this. He knows Propeller can be a deep sleeper, and he must be having a good rest. He yawns, and tries again.

"Adrien," he says, placing a hand on his shoulder.

The touch is strange, and he doesn't quite register why at first. Adrien's skin is cold and clammy- the first thing that comes to Donovan's mind is how someone might feel if they were sick. But no, that can't be it. This is familiar in a different way. This is…

...how his own skin feels. This is the skin of a corpse.

"Adrien?" Donovan pulls back, propping himself up on his forearm. "Adrien, wake up." He reaches out again, this time to shake him. He would definitely wake up from that, right? He'd wake up and be okay and Donovan would feel silly for thinking the worst.

But he doesn't wake up, and Donovan's stomach begins to sink.

"Adrien. Adrien? Darling? Darling, please…" His mind goes blank. What does he do now? What does one do in this situation? "Adrien– Wake up. Please. Please wake up. Please don't do this. Adrien… No… No, no, no, no, please, no..."

He sits up completely now, beginning to panic. What does he do? What does he do? He's reluctant to leave, but what can he do here? Is there any point in staying? He can provide Donovan comfort no longer. And the crew– everyone else needs to know. So against his desperate desire to just stay, stay and hold him one more time, Specter Knight stands and leaves the room, dazed.

It doesn't take him more than a few moments to run into a Hover Meanie heading down the hallway.

"Good morning, Specter Knight!" They chirp. "How are you feeling on this lovely day?"

"He– Propeller Knight is dead," Specter blurts.

"I–…" They fall silent for a moment. "I'll let everyone else know. Are you alright?"

"I don't know."

"Can I get you anything?"

"I… don't know."

"...Okay. I'll give you some space." They turn and make their way back the way they came.

Specter stands in the hallway, still completely out of it. His mind is going at a million miles a second, and he can't get any of the rest of himself to cooperate. He feels like he's trapped on a sinking boat. What does one do when they're stranded in the middle of the ocean? What does he do? What do you do now?

He places a hand to his head, suddenly dizzy. He wants to see him again.

Specter moves back down the hallway, toward the captain's quarters– only to be stopped by a Hoverhaft keeping guard outside the room.

"Stop!" He says. "The captain's doctors are examining the body. No one is permitted entry."

"I want to see him," Specter mutters plainly. "Please let me in."

"I said, no one is allowed in," the Hoverhaft repeats. "I don't care who you are, you–"

"Specter Knight!" A second voice calls. Another Hoverhaft hurries down the hallway towards them. "I'm glad I found you," she says. "I heard the news. We need to discuss plans for the coming days."

"I–" Specter isn't sure who she is. "I just want to see him again."

"Of course, sir. Let's discuss this elsewhere," she says, ignoring him and taking his hand. She leads him toward a smaller room and the two enter.

"What is this all about…?" Specter says. "I don't understand the fuss, I just–"

"I know, sir. There was an important death. Arrangements must be made."

"I… okay." He's too tired to protest.

"The first matter of business is the funeral. You're in charge of planning it."

"...Yes. I- We've discussed that."

"The second matter is, ah–" she pulls a clipboard from her pocket and checks it. "Yes, of course, his cremation."

Specter Knight blinks. "...What?"

"It's written in his will," the Hoverhaft states. "He wished to have his ashes scattered as we flew. He wanted to be all over the Valley."

Specter stutters over his words for a moment. "N- no, that's– We talked about it. He told me th– He said he wanted to be buried."

"That's not what he wrote."

"But I w–" He stops. What he wants. What he wants is irrelevant. For the last time, it needs to be all about Propeller. What he wanted.

"I…" He sighs. "F- fine. We'll go through with his cremation."

"Understood. I'll have that arranged for you, sir." She marks down something on her page. "...Uh."

"Uh?"

"There is… one more thing, sir," the Hoverhaft says. "Something Propeller Knight wanted."

"Well, get it out! Tell me!"

"He was our captain, as you know," she begins. "And as such, we need someone to succeed him. He wanted you to do it."

Specter opens his mouth, prepared to say something, but nothing comes out. He closes it, just to reopen and then close it once more.

"Is… is that so," he finally gets out.

"It is," she says. "Once necessary arrangements are made following the Captain's memorial, we can get to work with y–"

"No," Specter says. "No. We're not doing that."

The Hoverhaft is quiet for a second. "We need a captain, sir."

"I– I know that. I know that. And…" Specter Knight sighs. "I understand the sentiment. I know what you all are to each other." He turns his head to look out the door, watching the crew swarm around the captain's quarters. "I know you're all family, and Propeller Knight was your leader. I've… been here for decades. I've been here longer than anyone else, save for Propeller himself. If there's anyone in the world who's knowledgeable enough of the ship and its crew and its needs to do it, it's me." He turns back to the Hoverhaft. "But I can't.

"I'm not Adrien. I will never be and can never be him. I can't… be what he was to you. He cared for you all in a way I cannot begin to fully understand, let alone provide for you."

"...So you'd go against his wishes?"

This strikes a chord with Specter, but he doesn't react with anger. "...Yes," he says. "He was mistaken. He trusted me, of course, but he confuses trust and skill with leadership." He pauses. "I'll… find you someone else. I swear to you at least that much. I will find someone who can care for you the way he did. Or at least, better than I can."

"...I understand, sir." She writes something else down. "That's… all I had to tell you." Then, regaining her composure somewhat, "I understand you have work to do. But y–… Never mind. I'll let you get to it."

And with that, she leaves.

Chapter Text

Days pass, and work is done. If Specter Knight was spread thin while Propeller was sick, he was spread near into non-existence with him gone. While some functions of the ship had stopped in light of the recent event, many others still had to continue, and yet others were replaced with memorial plans.

Finally, three days later, a room is prepared for Propeller Knight. Several chairs are set up for those who wish to linger, but most crewmates pay their respects and leave shortly afterwards. The only one who stays the whole day is Specter Knight.

That evening, perhaps much later than Specter realizes it is, he finally stands from his chair, wordless as he's been all day, and approaches the casket. No one has been in the room for some time now, and Specter suspects everyone has gone to sleep. It's just the two of them now. Or perhaps, just him.

He pulls a chair over, and sits down next to Propeller. He's been in similar positions before, when Adrien was completely bedridden, and he'd sat by his bed all day. Those times had felt bleak, he recalls… but he'd give anything to return to them now.

He sits there in silence for some time, unsure of how to begin this one-sided conversation.

"...Forgive my silence," he says finally. "I've been… trying to think of something good enough to say." Another moment of silence. "It's… a lot harder to speak now. It feels as if there's much more pressure to… mean something now." He can't bear to look at his face. "It's the last chance I'll get."

He sighs. "I just… Wish I could go back. To any part of it, really. I just want any of it back. I feel like I've not cherished you enough. I feel like I need to go back and appreciate everything properly. To just… go back to one of our lazy mornings, or even a time when you were sick. To go back to when we first met, and do it all over again…" His throat is tightening, and he knows what's coming, but he presses on anyway.

"I realize now how busy I've been. I realize how… stressed I've been. How tired I've been. I don't think I've been tired like this in a while. I haven't even had time to grieve properly. And I just…" He swallows, but the knot doesn't lessen at all. "I just want to go back. I want a world where we c- could go to the beach, every day–"

It's too much. Against his best efforts, the memory of their last day together brings tears forth. He tries to exhale, and it only comes out as a sob. Donovan wipes his eyes quickly, but he can't calm himself easily. The weight of the last few days' stress lifts, if only to be replaced with the weight of the reality of the situation finally hitting him. All he can do is sit there and cry for some time.

When he finally does compose himself enough to speak again, he looks up at Adrien's face again. He's just as peaceful as he was the last time he saw him, but his features are already changing. This isn't the Adrien he knew anymore. He's gone. He's dead.

"... I'm sorry. I know what you said," Donovan says, his voice still strained. "I know you didn't want me to get bad again. I… I am trying so hard. But I just– Surely you understand the difference. Surely you know I'm just… tired. And I miss you. I hope you…" He realizes how silly he sounds. "I hope there's a chance you're here. And you're listening. I hope you're in this room, right now." He pauses, trying not to break down again. "I hope you got to stick around just a while longer. To see how the world continues without you. And I hope you aren't disappointed in me…"

He can't help some more tears, but he composes himself quickly now. "I love you," he whispers.

Donovan hesitates, and then reaches his hand out. Adrien had been dressed in his uniform, so all Donovan touches is a gloved hand. He grasps it gently.

"Tomorrow you'll be gone," he says. "Tomorrow you'll be turned to ash. What do I do then? What am I supposed to do after that?" A familiar feeling returns, the same sinking feeling he felt when Adrien first died. He knows what was arranged for him to do. He doesn't want to become a leader. He can't become the leader they want him to be. "...What does a captain do when his ship is sinking and he can't go down with it?" He asks. "How does life continue? How am I supposed to continue without you?"

Donovan leans his head forward, resting it against the side of the casket. It somehow feels more secure like this, more safe. He closes his eyes.

"I need your advice," he mutters. "But you're gone. I can't help myself. I need you.

"I love you," he says again. "I love you, and I miss you… And I'm tired…"

He's quiet. Donovan doesn't know when it happens, but he falls asleep like that.

"Specter Knight? Sir?"

"Mmh…" Donovan doesn't move.

"Specter Knight."

After a moment longer of hesitation, he opens an eye. He's greeted by a Hoverhaft and a Hover Meanie.

"You need to wake up," one of them tells him. "We need to move the Captain."

Suddenly, he remembers where he is, and in a strange moment of defiance, he says, "No," and closes his eyes again.

"...Specter Knight?" He doesn't respond. "Sir. Please."

"No."

"We need to move the body," they insist. Specter opens his eyes again.

"You aren't going to do anything," he says. "I am your captain until I find a replacement, and what I say goes. I am staying here."

"...You can't stay here forever," one says. They're right… he can't.

"Then grant me… ten more minutes," he says.

They look at each other, and can't seem to find a reason to fight him on that. "Okay," they say, and leave the room once again. Donovan sighs. He can't go back to sleep now, half because he's been rudely woken up like this and… half because he only has ten more minutes now.

He lifts his head finally, still holding hands with Adrien. He's quiet for a minute, before eventually coming to a decision.

"I am… going to arrange to have a grave set up for you," he says, "in the Lich Yard. There's nothing saying I can't memorialize you there…" He trails off, thinking for a moment. "...And is it not fitting, in a way?" He chuckles. "Yours next to mine… markers for the graves of two people that aren't even there."

He sighs. "I… suppose I understand your idea now," he continues. "To be everywhere and nowhere at the same time. In truth, your ashes will likely be blown away by the wind into the ocean, or swept up off the streets and into the trash… But I suppose that is part of the idea. It's an ever-changing existence, even after death. Even after your body ceases to exist…" He chuckles. "I suppose it truly is what you'd want, isn't it? Not just to be magnificent, but to be free, truly. No grave could hold you down.

"And… by that logic, are we not the same? Dead but still roaming the earth. Dead but not buried. Dead, but… still free, aren't we?" He laughs again. "Maybe… I didn't need your advice after all. Maybe it was already in me. Or perhaps your spirit lingers in me."

It's a sentiment Donovan's heard plenty of times before. When someone dies, their spirit lingers in other people's memories of them. He had never quite understood it until this moment. In treating himself the way he knows Propeller would have treated him, in treating others the same way, then the love he provided to the world would never truly leave. Not as long as Specter remembers him.

"I love you," he says. "And I'll never forget you. But I need to set you free now… and I need to make a difficult decision." He pauses. "I… hope you were right in trusting me. But I trust you. So I must have done something right."

"Specter Knight?" A voice calls. It's the Hover Meanie from before. Specter sits up straighter now, finally pulling his hand away from Propeller.

"Yes," he says. "I'm ready now."