Work Text:
Loneliness was an ache that had once been so familiar to them that it had itself become almost some twisted version of a friend. It had come and gone through their life as people entered their life and then inevitably left again. There were times even when surrounded by friends, they felt the cold hands of loneliness tugging back at them. Only one person dragged them fully from that cold grasp before he disappeared once again. His departure left that darkness to wrap around them with new vigor, to pull them back to its depths once more.
That was until that dreamwalker found his way into their dreams once again, bringing light with him. Hesitant and timid light, but light nonetheless. They resisted at first. It had hurt being ignored for so long when they tried their best to reach out to someone so dear to them. He was their closest friend and the person who made them feel the warm glow of comfort. But then, he had vanished and left them alone. Left them to become accustomed to that cold dark loneliness once again.
It was a clawing, pulling feeling. Loneliness. It came on slowly, so slowly that they hadn’t even noticed it until it engulfed them whole. Swallowing them back down into the pit they’d once worked so hard to climb out of, that they’d fought so hard to claw their way up from. Blake had helped them forget… Only to vanish again when those dark days were nearly forgotten.
But he had come back again with his hand outstretched, like a phoenix rising again. His sweet smile and kind eyes melted their anger at being so abruptly abandoned. From the darkness, he had appeared again. For better or for worse, they didn’t know. But, they took the hand he offered, whether they were walking toward salvation or damnation. It didn’t matter because it was by his side.
That old happiness and warmth began to grow around them again. It was slow and hesitant. He was different than before. This group he’d fallen into made an unease curl within their gut and the hairs on their neck prickle with unease. But, he could not be persuaded from the path he was taking. Some relief found them when he did nothing to force them to follow that same path. It was paved with well-meaning questions, but the answers that this CloseKnit found left them with a bitter taste instead of a sense of relief. They had heard more than enough in the few meetings they attended by Blake’s side to feel a soft wash of dread at the name CloseKnit. But, Blake wouldn’t be dissuaded from his path.
A companion to the cold embrace of loneliness had always been the restless lack of sleep. Sleep had never been a friend to them and instead was an elusive creature that they struggled to find and keep close. Blake’s presence soothed something in them and allowed the sweet relief of sleep to wash over them. No longer was it some prey running from their grasp. His mere appearance back into their life transformed it into a docile creature that would curl beside them easily on most nights. It took coaxing but Blake seemed to be content to help lull them into the sweet embrace of sleep, no matter how many nights they needed the help.
Those nights of soft words and soothing touches as he lulled them into sleep brought a different set of feelings to the front of their mind. While he was their closest friend, they felt more for him. The old comfort and familiarity the two had shared returned with a newfound bud of love. Maybe that pull that had always been there was the same feeling of romantic love that now began to blossom, but there was no way to be sure. Hesitation overtook them when their feelings first became apparent. If he didn’t feel the same then they may lose the warmth of his company. Loneliness would creep back.
He owed them nothing and their feelings were theirs to deal with whatever the outcome. But, it was a warm flood of relief when they discovered that he felt the same for them. It felt so obvious after the fact. The way he offered to stay with them late into the night and how his soft touch would linger should have been hints at his own feelings. However, hope was a fragile thing and they feared the pain if it were shattered.
But for once in their life, that fragile hope was rewarded with love and warmth. It was a calming happiness that spread through their life as they settled into a routine with him. He was attentive even when CloseKnit business kept him extremely busy. There was an all encompassing feeling of safety in his embrace and in his mere presence. Things began slowly and it was comforting to know they had the space and the time to grow into the relationship shift. The excitement of moving in together soon mellowed into an everyday contentment.
They savored the moments together. Whether it be how he would sometimes hold them from behind while they stood in front of the stove so he could steal a series of kisses or how he could wrap the blanket around them both on the couch while they watched or played something or simply read or relaxed. On days when his meetings ran late, they would sometimes fall asleep on the couch only to wake to his fingers gently brushing the hair out of their face. On occasion, they would accompany him to his meetings at his insistence although stepping into the building often made an eerie chill creep up their spine. But, those times were infrequent. He knew they had no interest in the group and respected their wishes. If they had to go with him, he made it up to them afterwards. He always made it up to them. On those late nights when they woke up to his return, he would apologize as he pulled them to the warmth of their bed. The next morning, they would wake to the smell of breakfast cooking.
As of late, his duties with CloseKnit had been taking more of his time than usual. He had less and less time to spend with them. Exhaustion pulled at him so often when they did get the chance to see him and hold him. They wished that they could ease his stress and help him sleep more peacefully. Even when he assured them that their mere presence was enough to help, they wished they could do more. They selfishly wished to keep a hold of him some days so he couldn’t leave for his meetings, but they never kept him from leaving for too long.
On nights where they were already sleeping when he returned, sometimes he would slip into their dreams. Those nights held a special place in their heart, even if they knew he was over exerting himself. There was something about the peace of a dream. There was something about him slipping into their dreams to see them after a long day, despite his own exhaustion.
Blake wasn’t the only observant one. They could see him fraying at the edges, how his shoulders sagged, his smile faltered. There was a calmness that came over him as soon as he saw them, a softness that appeared. But, they were seeing more of the mask he wore when they weren’t around. The cold, clipped voice was the worst part. But always, it melted away in their presence. Something was happening to push him to his limits. They weren’t oblivious. They could feel it like the cool breeze of autumn rustling through the leaves. Something was coming, be it a downfall or triumph they didn’t know. But, their beloved Blake was at the center of something and a dark gnawing feeling told them it was that it would end badly. As unease twisted within them, they found themself wondering what it was like within his mind.
~
They were his Moonbeam, the light in the darkness of his sky. His everything. He didn’t wish to pull them into the depths of pain and turmoil he had fallen into. His endeavors were noble. That’s what he always told himself. He was doing all of this to save the one person that meant more to him than life itself. His light, his Moonbeam. He was the abyss. Unworthy, a vast darkness that would covet their soft light. Nurture it. Protect it. At all costs. He would keep them safe. Nothing would ever harm his love. Nothing at all.
He saw the loneliness in their eyes, that cold tinge of sadness in the depths. That was a pain he did his best to fix. The hardest pains to help with were those internal ones, but his efforts never ceased. His presence was enough. It filled him with joy to know he was enough to ward off the beast that hurt them most, loneliness. But, as things grew darker and more desperate, as his grand plans came closer to reality, fractures began to form. His careful planning was beginning to show error. The foundation he'd built was cracking. Had it always been so unstable? Had he just been blind to the cracks as his focus lay on his cause, on what he needed to do?
He had done wrong by many. That, he knew. He couldn't argue over the hurt he'd caused. But, it was all a means to protect them. The light to his abyss. His Moonbeam. How could he sit stagnant with the knowledge of their death? How could he do nothing to help the only person who mattered? Especially when there was a solution. They were his everything. Without them, it would all be darkness. Consequences be damned.
His choice may lead him to damnation, but his only regret would be leaving his Moonbeam alone again. He knew how cold the tendrils of loneliness could be. He knew how they'd suffered in the embrace of loneliness before. It would break his heart to be ripped away from them. His night sky would be forever dark without them to fill the space. Cursed with the darkness of his own abyss without the warmth and light of his beloved Moonbeam for his failure. He would gladly suffer such a fate if only it would do nothing to hurt the one he cared for most. But, he knew his Moonbeam would suffer without him and that was like a knife to his heart.
As he watched his fate shift, his only thoughts were of how he may have failed them. Their life was in his hands and they didn't even know. He'd kept them so blissfully unaware of the fate he was fighting. It was better that way. The true purpose of his involvement with CloseKnit was a secret he'd shared with no one. Everything had been to let them have what they so deserved: a life.
That damn dreamwalker had ruined his carefully laid plans. He should have seen it coming. Elliott was nothing if not persistent. But, he'd been so careful. Or maybe there was no hope of his plan’s success in reality and he had been blinded by his hope and his need to save the only light within his life. Had he missed some vital piece of the puzzle in his delicate planning? Had his desperation for a solution made something slip through the cracks? Or was this inevitable?
It had occurred to him to beg that unempowered person connected to the deathwalker to at least spare his love, at least help them at the very end. That resilient person knew the depths of love and would understand the pain he felt at failing the person who mattered most to him. Hell, their dreamwalker called them "Sunshine". A ray of light, just as his precious Moonbeam was his own coveted light. But, after it all, would they even think to help the person who tortured their love in front of them. The person who manipulated and used them for his own purposes. It didn't matter how noble his cause. They had every right to hate him. But, he would cling to any chance at salvation for his love. They had to understand at least that much at the end of all things. It was all for love.
As the walls began to cave in around him, the one thing he wanted was to hold his beloved in his arms one last time. To kiss their lips one last time. To confess the grand plan he had enacted with a sole purpose. Would his love be upset for withholding so much from them? Their anger would sting but it would be justified if it flared up at his confession. A sliver of fear found its way up his spine at the thought of hatred sparking within his Moonbeam. But they weren’t cruel. He doubted they could have ever been as cruel as he had been. They had always been a better person than him. And forever they would be. Their hands were clean while his hands were stained with blood and filth. All of that cruelty was necessary to reach the desired end, or so he believed. The end that may not come to pass after all. The salvation he so desperately wanted them to have. In the end, he may be pulling them down into the depths of damnation and in a final torment, they wouldn’t even fall hand in hand.
~
“My Moonbeam,” His voice was barely above a whisper and the softness in his eyes made their breath catch in their throat. Their legs carried them closer to him without a thought. His arms reached for them on instinct and they let him pull them close. His arms wrapped around them and they returned the embrace with a contented sigh.
“Blake, my love,” Their voice sounded unsure as it left their lips. There were so many questions on their mind, but that look in his eyes halted every one of them.
“Just let me hold you like this for a moment, my love,” His soft breath ghosted against their neck and they let out a soft sigh as they sank deeper into the embrace.
“Just let me remember this,” His voice cracked ever so slightly at those words. Confusion and concern overtook their mind. Dread began to pool within their stomach and they opened their mouth to ask why but the words died on their lips once more. He was hurting and they didn’t want to cause more anguish. But a need to know tugged at them.
“What happened?” They asked, their voice hesitant and on the edge between worry and panic.
“Don’t worry about that right now,” His words were quiet and his breath tickled softly against the shell of their neck before he pulled away to look at their face. He looked utterly exhausted, like everything that was holding him up was slowly breaking apart.
“I’m worried about you, Blake,” It was nearly a plea as their hand found the side of his face and they felt him lean into the touch, “Please sit down with me. You look about ready to collapse.”
He opened his mouth to protest but then allowed them to pull him over onto their couch where he settled but they noticed how he didn’t relax into it. His back stayed stiff, his body still at full attention, as if he was waiting for something to happen. That put them even more on edge and that knot on their stomach tightened.
“My Moonbeam,” His voice was so quiet they would have thought they’d imagined it if not for his hands reaching out to pull them close. Easily, they settled against him. Comfortable in his embrace. His gaze watched them in silence for a long moment with that same softness they were used to seeing in his eyes, but it was tinged with sadness. He brought a hand up to their face and tilted their face toward him with a gentle strength. His lips were soft against theirs, slow and loving. It was a long series of kisses as if they’d been apart for months and in some ways, it felt like they had been.
“Blake, please tell me what’s wrong,” They murmured, soft but forceful against his lips when he finally pulled away. His face contorted in a look of pain for a moment before he even opened his mouth to speak.
“I will, my love," He sighed, "Just give me a moment longer to savor this."
A heavy sigh left their lips but they said nothing, forced nothing from him. He would give them the answers they asked for in due time. They knew he would. But fear was coiling within them as the seconds passed in silence. He reached out for them again and pulled them into his arms, flush against his chest. Resting their head against it, they could hear his heartbeat. It was usually a calming rhythm that put them at ease but it was faster now. It seemed to be slowing with their proximity like they were a balm that soothed his nerves.
"Everything I’ve done is catching up with me,” He murmured softly against their skin. As much as they tried not to pull away to look at his face, they couldn’t stop their breath from hitching.
“Blake, what are you talking about?” They asked, disbelief and concern leaking into their tone as much as they attempted to stay calm.
“My Moonbeam, my love, please just know that all of this was done to protect the most important thing in my life. It was all for you,” His voice cracked as he spoke and they could feel the dread grow tighter in their stomach, constricting painfully.
“What are you talking about?” They pulled themself back from his chest, gazing at his face. The way he seemed to be unwell wasn’t lost on them, whatever he’d done had begun to eat away at him. Terror started to snake its way down their spine as confusion continued to plague them. They wished he would just tell them what was happening.
“My involvement with CloseKnit, all the things I’ve done with them that are going to come to light, it was all in an attempt to keep you safe. I just wanted you to have a chance at life, my love,” His eyes were pleading as he gazed at them, “My choices hurt people, I hurt people. But, I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.”
“I never asked you to save me,” There was no anger behind the words, just a numb shock. They had known he was involved with something unsafe and that it may take a dark turn but they never imagined that he justified whatever it was in such a way.
“I know,” He breathed, “But I couldn’t do nothing.”
“You never even asked what I wanted,” Their voice was still low and quiet. Harsh emotion hadn’t taken over them and it most likely wouldn’t as they weren’t one to have flares of anger often. Shock and confusion took over their system more than anything else.
“It never occurred to me to ask,” He told them in a soft voice after a moment of silence. He seemed taken by surprise by their comment. He really had never considered asking them. He was so set on protecting them.
“Blake,” They sighed, their mind swimming with everything that was happening, everything they’d been told. But before they could find the right words to say, he spoke.
“I wanted to keep you safe and happy,” He murmured, “I wanted to spare you pain, but it seems I just delayed it.”
“You should have told me,” They pushed with exasperation in their tone, “It should have been my choice.”
“What would you have done if you knew you were going to die?” He asked, desperation clear on his face and it made their heartache. He had been chasing the outcome he so desperately wanted to be true. He truly thought it was worth whatever he had to sacrifice. He loved them so much that he was willing to damn himself for them.
“I would have enjoyed what time I had left with you,” They told him. Their voice cracked as the words spilled past their lips but it was the truth. Tears stung the corners of their eyes and the back of their throat as they looked in his eyes. The eyes of the man they loved, a man who had been so kind to them. But, now they knew the desperate darkness that he’d been hiding. The darkness that had bloomed out of his desire to protect them, out of his love for them.
“I gave us more time,” He whispered, desperation setting in. He knew that his deeds were catching up to him. There wasn’t much time left.
“But at what cost?” They questioned, their own emotion pooling within them. They knew everything they had learned had yet to process but they felt a sense of urgency grow within them. A sense that they needed to finish this line of questioning soon in order to have any time to say their goodbyes. They didn’t want to say goodbye to him. They loved him. But, it seemed inevitable. It seemed imminent.
“That’s a question I don’t have the answer to,” He told them in a strained voice, anguish obvious in his gaze. The true cost was lost to him. He truly didn’t know. Somehow that didn't surprise them. He had been blinded to the true extent of what he had done in his focus on the goal he was seeking.
“How long do we have left?” They asked, a hand coming up to gently cup his face. He leaned into the contact with a sigh and they once again saw how exhaustion pulled at his very being.
“Not long now,” He murmured, “You have every right to be upset and confused. But, please just let me hold you one last time. Let me kiss you one last time.”
“Questions are rampant in my mind, my love,” They admitted, “I don’t know what to think. But, I want to spend what little time we have left together.”
“My Moonbeam, you are the light in my abyss,” His hand came up to gently cup their face in return, his thumb smoothing over their cheek in a slow motion, “Thank you for treating me to such kindness in the end. You would have every right to cast me out and ask me to leave.”
“Blake,” Their voice cracked at his name, “I care about you. I love you. I won’t just toss you out. I just ask that you don’t fight the consequences of what you’ve done. I don’t want to have more hurt happen for you or anyone else.”
“My love,” His voice was no more than a breath released from his lungs, and they could see the mix of sorrow and devotion in his eyes, “If that’s what you want, I’ll do it. Anything for you.”
“I don’t want to lose you, my love,” They told him, as the fact that he would soon be torn away from them began to set in.
“I know,” He sighed, as his thumb caressed their cheek once more, “I don’t want to leave you. You are the stars in my sky, the light in my darkness. My everything.”
“At least we’ll have each other in memory,” They told him before pressing their lips gently to his and sinking into a kiss.
They hoped to memorize the feeling of his lips on theirs, the way his embrace made their heart flutter. It was almost palpable, the darkness drawing closer to pull him away from them. Before long, the familiar feeling of loneliness would envelop them once more but this would be more painful than the times before. It seemed inevitable. It seemed that they would always fall back into the cold embrace of loneliness. But, they didn’t want to focus on the creeping chill of hopelessness attempting to reach their warm heart. They needed to be in the moment to savor their last moments with their love before his own dark deed damned him and ripped him from their loving grasp.
“I’ll weave a piece of myself into your dreams, so you’re never completely without me,” He told them before pulling them into another soft kiss. They felt their head spin ever so slightly as he used what magic he had left in his state of exhaustion. They wrapped themself in his embrace and took every second they had left to memorize everything they could of him. He called them his light, but he had been the stars in their own sky as well. He’d never seen that. Never known how he lit up their life in warm light. But, now their sky would go dark again. Two people ripped apart by one’s futile attempt to save the other. Two people well acquainted with loneliness torn apart and giving back to its awaiting depths. Depths devoid of stars. Only the smallest speck of hope shone in the darkness that they may be allowed to meet again someday.