Work Text:
~...~
Hunger
~...~
He had always had a hunger for her.
As far back as he could remember, she had been there, by his side. His older sister, his protector, his very first friend, the person he had always loved the most in the world. Unlike a lot of siblings he knew, they got along perfectly. She had been the one to change his diapers, feed him, bathe him, put him to bed, and all of the things a mother typically did with their babies. Julia was more of a mother to him than their own mother; he'd throw a fit whenever she wasn't the one to care for him. Even as a baby he wanted her above all others; a fact that didn't endear his sister to their mother. But that never stopped Jules from caring for him, from loving him.
So was it any wonder that his need for her only intensified as he got older?
She was his first friend and has been his best friend for years. Even after she left, even after he could no longer see, hear, or touch her. He didn't understand it back then and even now he still didn't fully comprehend it. Paul cried for her every night, which often got him in trouble with their father. He blamed the man for her leaving; even if he hadn't known what had been happening to her - and he still didn't know everything - he still would've blamed their father. Neither of their parents had been particularly fantastic but the old man had always been the worst of the two.
Everyday that went by without Julia had been nothing short of torture. His only constant companion was gone and nothing could fill the hole she had left in his heart. After a time, not even the pictures that decorated the walls of their home could comfort him. The ache in his chest only grew as each day passed. To say that he missed her would be a gross understatement. He couldn't - or wouldn't - put a name to the feeling back then; all he knew was that he missed his sister terribly and wanted nothing more than to have her back with him.
But she didn't come back, not for a long time. And maybe that was for the best.
As he grew older and slowly begun to mature, the feelings he held for Julia seemed to amplify the longer she was away. Dreams that had once been sweet and tender about reuniting with her transformed into visions of want and unbridled desire. A desire he spent his waking moments not acknowledging. He'd wake up covered in sweat, his underwear soiled from the passions and desires that haunted his slumber. Always of her.
Her skin, soft and pale beneath his fingertips. Her dark hair silky and wet, sticking to her neck and back, but smelling of flowers and their combined musk. Her lips, red and swollen, letting soft pants loose and whispering words that would never be said in reality. Her limbs, thin, almost frail, arms and legs, wrapped around him, holding him close, just as she used to, but so very different from the past, no longer innocent and pure but corrupted. Her body, one that had once shielded and protected him, smaller than his own and fitted perfectly against him. Those were the dreams that haunted him night after night well into his twenties.
Conflicting feelings welled up deep inside of him and they tore his very soul apart. Half of him couldn't deny the longing he felt for his sister, the need to be with her and have her close by, but the other half was afraid, so terribly afraid, that he'd turn out to be like their father. The thought that Julia would grow to fear and resent him just as she had their father caused him more pain than he could verbalize. Yet he couldn't stop what he felt or pretend that they didn't exist. Whenever he had tried, his desires would come back threefold and consume him with unbridled desire. Paul didn't know what to do; he was aware that this wasn't normal, that he wasn't normal. Hell, their whole family wasn't normal. But he didn't have anyone to turn to. He was alone.
Even now, with her here at last and living under the same roof, those dreams still tormented him, reminding him of what was so close and yet still so far away. His warring sides still fought day and night for control. There was so much he had wanted to do, had longed for, but there was this great precipice separating them. Even if they had been as close as before, how would she react to his feelings? Would she leave and curse him for being just like their father, or would she try to understand?
Paul didn't really know how to approach her when she had first returned. Upon seeing her for the first time in so long, all either of them could do was stare at each other. He wasn't sure what had been going through Julia's mind, but his was memorizing every detail, every little wrinkle, and committed it to memory. It took all of his restraint to not rush her and hug her, hold her to him and never let go, but she had to be the one to make the first move. Something within told him that she had to be the one to approach first. And after what felt like an eternity, she finally did.
With her luggage in tow, she slowly, cautiously, began to walk towards him. His heart had been a defeaning cacophony in his ears and he stood stock still, not wanting to scare her away. The brief hug she gave him was everything to him in that moment. Finally, she was in his arms, alive and real and here. And that was more than enough.
For awhile, at least.
Just being near her and living together at last kept his desires at bay. The only thing he had ever prayed for had been granted and he didn't want to jeopardize it. So, their arrangement had been more than enough to satiate him. Though things were awkward still and confusing at times, this was the happiest he could ever recall being. His sister was with him at last; what more could he want?
And then Lucas Weaver came into the picture, with his disturbing drawings and his addict father. Paul could tell that Julia was worried about him, maybe even saw a portion of her younger self in him, and wanted to help him. Whether it was her teacher's instincts rearing themselves or her maternal ones, he couldn't deny that she was radiant because of it. Even as kids, she had glowed whenever she cared for him, so to see that emerge after so long was practically a miracle.
What he hadn't fully expected was the new problem that had brought. Every time she brought up Lucas and exuded that protective, maternal energy, new thoughts would invade his mind. He wondered what she'd look like pregnant with his child. Would she have that glow that all pregnant women seemed to have? Would she be happy for it, or disgusted? It was nigh impossible to keep those thoughts from constantly being at the forefront of his mind.
Things quickly spiraled out of control within a matter of days. After nearly dying and almost losing Julia to that monster, that wendigo, there was a shift between them. A drastic change that was palpable. He and Jules and Lucas were a strange, little family and everything was slowly settling into a new normal.
"I'm sorry for...for pushing you so hard throughout all of this," Julia had told him before he was discharged from the hospital. She looked exhausted and pale and terrified, but not of him; of losing him.
"I'm just...glad you're okay," had been his reply and he used his unbroken arm to reach up and cup her cheek. That was the moment a dam broke between them.
Julia had placed her hand on top of his own and pressed a kiss to it. Her eyes shone with unshed tears and she was trembling. Their eyes met and an understanding passed between them. It was unmistakable and far more intense than anything he had felt before.
Once he was home and Lucas was there permanently, that distance between them began to dwindle into nothing. Gradually, cautiously, things started to change. With his arm in a sling, she spent most nights beside him, helping him through his routine and taking care of him. It was nice and he was amazed that she was still at his side every time he woke up. She'd kiss his cheek and forehead and sometimes climb into bed with him at his request. Just to sleep, nothing more than that, not while his arm was still healing.
That wasn't the only healing taking place.
They both began to open up more. He wasn't sure if the life or death situation knocked some sense into their thick skulls or if having Lucas around to take care of did it, but they talked more. About their pasts, what they went through, about the present. Even if he couldn't properly convey his feelings, Paul somehow knew that Julia understood him and his words.
"This isn't normal, you know," she told him one day. They had been sitting outside, watching Lucas play. Paul had reached out and took hold of her hand, small in comparison to his own.
"I know. But it makes me happy," had been his response.
"Me too," she said and a small, almost shy smile spread across her face.
That had made his heart leap for joy. The desire and hunger he had felt for her for practically his whole life threatened to consume them both. Julia felt it too and she hadn't let go of his hand, hadn't rejected him.
Once Lucas was asleep that night, they retreated to Paul's room, their room. His heart pounded in his chest and he could barely breathe. She made the first move, and after years of dreams and prayers, they kissed and the world around them faded away. She was everything he had always imagined and everything he could have ever wanted. The dreams that had haunted him for so long were nothing in comparison to the love they made that night, and many nights thereafter. It was beyond his fantasies and desires and a new craving began to built within him.
As did the coughing.
The coughing started off as small, tickles in the throat, that happened every so often. Nothing to be concerned about at first. But it got worse as time went on, and as his relationship with Julia deepened and became the relationship he had always wanted. She was always on his mind and she consumed every thought he had. Before long, no amount of time spent with her was enough for him. He needed more. And she could tell that something had changed. Between his incessant coughing and his insatiable hunger for her, it wasn't hard for her to put two and two together.
"It got inside of you, didn't it?" she asked him. Knelt beside him, she rubbed his back while he coughed on the couch, black ichor staining his hands.
"Yes," was all he could muster in between coughs. "Are...you afraid?"
There was a pause before her answer. "Yes."
"What are you...going to do?" he asked, afraid of the answer yet needing to know.
"I'm not going anywhere," Julia told him firmly.
A smile graced Paul's lips before the coughing started up again. As long as she was beside him, he didn't have to worry or fear. But his hunger never ceased. Just as it had when he was younger, it only flourished and consumed him. Only her touch could satisfy him. Everything and everyone else disappeared.
All that was left was her. Just her.