Work Text:
It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
You were supposed to come back to me.
You lied.
Orion squeezed his hands around the cold metal of a pair of dog tags he held in his hand. Despite close contact with his skin, they weren’t getting warmer. Coldness prickled his skin like he pressed his palm to an ice block.
“...send a notification to?” Price’s voice finally broke through static in his ears. Mateo turned his eyes up at him, meeting his concerned gaze. He had no idea what his capitan said and honestly he was too exhausted to care. Last two days drained him completely, leaving behind nothing but a lingering phantom of his previous existence.
“What?” Coarseness of his own voice surprised Haller, even though it shouldn’t have. After all he had cried his heart out in the pillow all night, holding on for a dear life onto these damned dog tags, begging fate to bring Robert back. But fate had been cruel before for him and was cruel now. Nothing could bring Orion his lover back, no matter how hard he begged, how long he had laid sleeplessly in his bed, choking down another sob.
“I asked if you know any of his next of kin, so we can send them some type of… notification about recent events.” John said, his eyes showing growing concern for the medic. Everyone would be concerned seeing what state he was in. Dark circles under his eyes seemed to grow bigger with each passing second and his eyes themselves looked more like the ones that a doll would have. Dull, any light they ever had was gone already.
“His mom and sister.”
“Thank you. I’ll get Gaz on sending them a message as soon as-”
“Don’t.” Orion cut him off. “I’ll do it myself.”
That proposition surprised Capitan, who had assumed that calling a family of a friend, let alone a lover, would be too much for anyone. He had seen the bravest ones crumble under the weight of that task, unable to tell an unsuspecting family they would never hear their loved one laugh or see their smile, ever again. Hell, even Ghost wasn’t so cold-hearted to not feel for a grieving mother who just heard that she’ll have to bury her own child.
It was the worst part of their job. You don’t know around which corner grim reaper creeps for you with his scythe, ready to lead you to the other side. It was scary, but they had to embrace that fear to try and survive, fueling themselves with it. Yet, even that never guaranteed going back with your shield. Sometimes your mates carried you back on it.
“Are you sure son? Don’t take too much on your shoulders, especially now.”
“I think I know my limits better than you, thank you.” Mateo’s voice was almost as cold as the xeranthemum hidden in his clenched fist.
The chair scraped loudly on the floor as Haller rose up. He turned around to leave, but he suddenly stopped in his tacks, fingers almost touching the door knob. It took the medic a moment to gather the strength to finally speak up again.
“Can I…” It took him another few seconds to calm down the shakiness of his voice. He was grateful that now his back was facing John, a few stray tears sliding down his cheeks, despite his greatest effort to stop them. He couldn’t cry now, having a breakdown now would only make everything worse.
“Can you what son?” Captain decided not to hurry the younger one too much, seeing how distressed he was at that moment.
“Can I… Keep his dog tags? Please…”
“I wish I could say yes, but that decision is not mine to make, son.”
Orion nodded, putting his hand on the knob. For some reason turning it required so much strength all of a sudden that it made him afraid that he won’t be able to leave. Finally he managed to get the door to open, leaving without saying anything else.
On his way back he walked past a room that used to be Robert’s, now cleaned up, stripped bare of every last proof of his existence, ready for another vacant to call that space theirs. It made Mateo’s gut clench, an acidic taste appearing in the back of his throat. The Army was fast when it came to burying enemies and seemed like it was equally fast in doing that to their own people. It was cruel, how could they pretend that one of their best never existed? Just another photo on a wall or a legend for privates to tell each other in the barracks.
Gasping for breath he grabbed onto the toilet’s bowl, throwing up once again in these few days. No matter how hard he tried to, he couldn’t crack how he got back into his own room. There was no time to think about such a mundane thing, another wave of nausea shaking his body along with uncontrollable sob breaking out of his throat, making him curl into himself on cold tiles of his bathroom floor.
Everything ached, down to the smallest fiber of his being. It ached to feel the familiar touch of the man he loved. Yet there was no answer to his cries, no one to hold him back, no scent of familiar cologne to calm down his senses. He was alone now, forced to carry the burden of survival on his own. He didn’t want to. He wasn’t ready to do this alone. It was too much.
Haller would never call himself a weak man. Yet, now he was weak. He was the weakest man on the planet right now, who caved under the weight of his own grief. Without Robert he felt empty, a cracked shell of what he used to be when the other one was alive. No hopes, no dreams, no future, nothing. Because what kind of future is it, without the person you love the most at your side? Is it even worth anything?
Time lost its meaning to him as well. Mateo had no idea how much it passed before his body forced itself to stand up from the cold floor. Water was equally cold when he turned on the sink, trying to flush out the taste of bile from his mouth. Everything he touched felt cold, unalive. Especially the metal chain and two metal plates he clung onto like a child to its favorite toy. Sudden anger flashed over Orion as he looked down at the dog tags. These damned dog tags.
Haller threw dirty gloves into the bin, sitting down at his desk. His last patient, for now, had just left and he had some time to actually fill out the reports about what happened to that guy
In the middle of deciding if he should classify accidentally slicing his hand open with a can of baked beans as a training accident, to spare that poor recruit some shame if anyone ever found out about what happened, a very well known voice spoke softly into his ear. "Could you keep them safe for me until I get back?" Robert slid a chain onto Orion's neck gently, kissing the top of his head as a greeting.
Medic looked up, a small smile appearing onto his lips. "Pleasure to see you as always major. Leaving your jewelry with me again?"
"You're the best guardian after all. Never failed to keep it safe for me."
"You've never failed to come back to retrieve it as well."
That response coaxed a laugh out of Deathblossom, making butterflies in his stomach flutter happily. They were appearing whenever his significant other did almost anything, but the laugh was always making Orion the most giddy.
“And this time won’t be different. I promise.”
Metal clinged against the ceramic of the bathroom sink after Orion threw the dog tags against the mirror for some bizarre reason, mostly out of anger guiding him. But, who was he angry at: Robert or maybe these dog tags? Actually it was probably himself. He could stop Bakowski from leaving when he had a chance. Yet, would it change anything actually? If Fortune decided that day was Deathblossom’s last then there was nothing they could do about it. It just spared them both a suffering of making the last moments together bitter through the desperate attempts of Orion trying to keep Bakowski’s life from slipping through his fingers. It would be to no avail anyways.
“Was Robert actually in pain when he was dying? How long did it take him to let out his last breath? Did he thought about me when the first bullet went through his body? Did he had any time for that before the second shot came in, blowing his skull open, revealing his brain for everyone to see?” Mateo thought, holding onto his sink, his breath becoming shaky. He tried to ignore the picture of his lover being torn apart by a rain of bullets. But even with his eyes closed, it was still there.
A corpse in a pool of crimson. Its eyes wide open and unseeing, skin with bullet holes all over it. Streams of half-coagulated blood, starting from his nose and lips. The same lips he used to kiss once, that whispered sweet nothings into his ear each morning to wake him up.
Punch caused the surface of the mirror to shatter, pieces of glass getting stuck in his fist. He watched as blood slowly dripped onto the xeranthemum, swirling in a small pool of water on the bottom of a sink, giving it a pink tint. Haller looked at it in silence, ignoring sharp pain traveling up his arm from shards stuck in his knuckles. Relaxing and opening his fist wasn’t helping at all, but he welcomed that pain, embraced it. He needed that, it was grounding.
Was his corpse still out there, left behind and forgotten somewhere in the field? Did nature claimed him back already, welcoming him into the ground to become dust, embracing what was left of him like a mother hugs her own child?
There was no answer to his questions. No one could possibly know what happened to bodies they left behind. They were part of history and under a gravestone with their name laid only an empty casket, a symbol of a fallen soldier. Of a wasted life, put out too early for its own good.
Even his own room seemed foreign to Orion now. Each thing he got from Robert was hidden in a box under his bed, since they caused only pain and unnecessary hope. Bakowski was dead and nothing could ever change that. Trying to trick himself into thinking that any moment love of his life would bust through his door and take him in a loving embrace, promising to never leave him again was like twisting a knife in a wound.
Only a shirt, pulled over a pillow was the one thing Mateo allowed himself to keep out. It was a mockery of a real thing, a desperate attempt to trick his senses into a false sense of comfort and security to let himself fall asleep. His efforts were met with no effect, his eye bags only getting darker with each minute he spent laying wide awake.
He sat down at his desk and pulled a first aid kit closer, getting to taking the glass out of his hand. It hurt, but he ignored it, trying to grasp the shards with shaky hands. Finally it was done and cleaned up, nicely wrapped up in a bandage. Wounds were deep enough for stitches, but he just couldn’t bother to do that anymore.
“Just don’t come to me to patch you up later. Bleed out for all I care!” These words rang through his mind. Mateo remembered that moment, it was clear as day in his memory. Now he regretted getting angry at Robert for smoking a cigarette during a medical procedure. Hell, he’d gladly sit in a room with air so thick with cigarette smoke you could cut it with a knife just to hear Bakowski’s comments about how cigarettes weren’t going to kill him.
And this time Haller had to admit that Robert was actually right. The cigarettes weren’t the thing that brought doom upon his dearest, although maybe if they did it wouldn’t hurt Orion as much. They’d have time to say goodbye and sort everything out between themselves. That ‘lucky’ shooter took that privilege away from them.
Now it was time to learn to live alone again.
An impossible task it seemed, even though Mateo should know better than anyone that time healed wounds. Was it going to heal that one too? He hoped it wouldn’t, because if it will stop hurting then it will mean that he moved on and was ready to start forgetting about his soulmate. No. No, that could never happen. He wasn’t going to forget. Ever. It was his last promise to Robert.
~
Days passed by almost unnoticed for Orion. He was talking to people every day and got multiple condolences, yet they escaped from his memory, quickly becoming meaningless. Faces, voices of concern merged into one in his troubled mind. He had a conversation with Ghost one day, but this slipped away too. Simon said something about loss and that he ‘knows how Mateo feels right now’.
Bullshit.
It was all bullshit to Haller. No one could ever know how he felt. No one could ever understand except for Robert. He always understood. But he was gone now and with him the only person who knew his heart and soul well enough to say that they know how Orion feels.
With Bakowski’s disappearance his old habits actually came back. Working as much as he could to the point of exhaustion. Deathblossom hated that and reasonably so. It was dangerous since Mateo lacked any sort of self preservation, not allowing himself any type of break unless absolutely necessary. Sleeping in his own bed seemed like torture now, so the only form of rest he was getting were quick naps on one of gurneys in medical.
He knew he stepped over the line when he collapsed out of exhaustion mid taking out a bullet out of the thigh of one of the marines. If it weren’t for one of the nurses his head would get cracked open against the floor, just like Robert’s. With a dose of disturbance Orion discovered that he wouldn’t actually mind it happening. It would be definitely easier than going through each day in survival mode.
After that Price sent him on a forced vacation and he minded that much more than the perspective of working himself to death. It was much more troublesome since he had no idea what to do with himself. But one warning look from his superior and he immediately gave up any negotiation attempts.
For the first few days Haller just stayed in his room, pacing from one wall to another, not knowing what he could do and not even bothering to try to find out.
But one day an idea came to his mind when he was sitting on the balcony, mindlessly playing with two pairs of dog tags around his neck. In the next few days he was in a plane heading to Robert’s motherland. There was a plan in his mind and he knew exactly how he was going to execute it. He didn’t bother to notify his lover’s family about his visit in Poland. They would want to talk to him and he wasn’t ready for that yet.
Instead he took the direction of Bakowski’s favorite spot they went to together many times during Mateo’s visits in Warsaw. It was a river’s shore, far away from the capital city, yet not too far, to not make it disappear on the horizon.
“Here we are Shatz…” Orion sat down on the ground for a second, closing his eyes and taking a deep, a bit shaky breath, fighting to stay calm. It wasn’t the time for tears yet.
When he opened them again there were tears in them, threatening to spill. Instead he focused on quickly setting sun, taking in as much as he could out of last rays of light. When the first stars appeared above his head, he stood up and got to work.
First things first was to find a perfect spot for what he was about to do. He had chosen a birch, hidden a bit between bigger trees, giving that spot a sort of privacy, yet still with some room around it to freely move around. Then, a hole in the ground appeared, dug out by medic himself, nested comfortably close to the roots, a makeshift burial place. To find it, one would have to look carefully or know its location. But that was a secret, the kind Mateo was going to take to his own grave.
Inside of that hole Orion placed a small box, burying it under a thick layer of fresh soil, saying goodbye to it for the last time. If any curious soul would ever find it here, in the middle of nowhere and open it they would find a pair of dog tags on one chain. Upon closer inspection however these tags would have two different names on them: Robert “Deathblossom” Bakowski and Mateo “Orion” Haller.
A click and then a small light flickered in the darkness of the copse. Mateo took a long drag of his first and at the same time last ever cigarette, turning the box in his hand and looking at the red box with the ‘Davidoff’ written on the front.
“I hope you don’t mind that I took your favorite cigarettes” Haller exhaled, coughing a bit at the prickling feeling in his throat. “Jesus fuck, how could you smoke that crap…” He sighed. “And before you ask, yes I turned the first, lucky cigarette. You and your beliefs… I bet you roll your eyes at me right now and call me an idiot or something like that. I’d give a lot to hear it again…”
He looked down at the small mound of earth at his feet. “We hadn’t got a chance to get married but now, part of me will be with you for forever.” He looked at his own xeranthemum, matching the one buried in the box. “You took a part of me with you when you died… Maybe for the better. You wouldn’t last out there all alone, so at least you’ll have something to keep you company.”
Orion took another drag, inhaling the smoke deep into his lungs, actually enjoying the burn now. His eyes turned to the starry sky, reminding himself of a childhood belief that when people die, they go to live among planets and the galaxies, turned back into the cosmic dust, going back to what everyone was at the very beginning.
A tear and then the next two flowed down his cheek. He didn’t bother to wipe them, allowing himself to cry for a moment, to finally mourn for a bit in silence. There was no wailing, no tearing his hair off his head or screaming at God and Fate, asking them for the reason and cursing their names. Just a last silent moment between him, Robert’s grave and an endless space stretching above them.
Mateo closed the box of cigarettes and placed them on top of the burrow along with Bakowski’s favorite lighter. “Wait for me, my love. I’ll be there one day” He put his hand on the ground, saying his last goodbyes. “Goodnight… Sleep well My dearest.”
Somewhere in middle Poland, hidden deep between trees and forgotten by time, lies a box, hidden under a birch tree. Inside of it, there’s a pair of dog tags, patiently waiting. Waiting for the day when their twin pair will be put to rest as well. Because when that day comes, two souls destined for each other will meet again among the stars, now connected forever. But until that day there’s still a long, long time.