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For the heart to be consumed by darkness, first you have to make friends with a world gone dark.
Peter Hale was all too familiar with the truth of those words. After having spent his last two years locked up within the four walls of his cell - no light source in sight at that, so even his enhanced vision was of no use - he slowly felt the approaching madness take hold of his mind. He had fought viciously and unrelentingly during the first few months of his captivity, but there came a point when he had to admit to himself that there were no saviours in this world. And no one would come to free him.
Especially him.
In his darkest hours, he found comfort in the knowledge that he was one of the lucky ones. All the kids below ten were murdered on sight by the hunters, so he should have been grateful that his captors at least valued him enough to keep him alive. He didn't regret his choice of distracting the hunters and providing sufficient time for Laura and Derek to get away from their death-bringers, he just wondered sometimes whether he should give up on hope at this point and let the darkness finally conquer him.
Peter knew their game, though. The hunters wanted to strip him from who he was, his very essence, and he hated to admit that they might be on their way to succeeding. He hadn't howled at the Moon since he was first caught by their arrows or felt the forest ground solid under his feet since he first tried to escape over a year ago.
His wolf was slowly but surely starving away inside him.
"Peter."
The sound was like a flicker of hope in the all-encompassing blackness. That voice was single-handedly the only thing able to make his wolf still perk up in the pit of his consciousness, and Peter felt his blood rush alive as a figure entered the underground tunnels.
There was a sizzling sound from a match being lit, and soon a candle's feeble flame was burning near the bars of his cage where ocean-blue eyes reflected the timid light.
"How long do we have?"
Always the same question, and always the same reaction. The other boy's eyes were regretful as if Chris truly believed Peter could ever blame him for what his family was doing. They were only children - no one could expect them to change the world. And how mournful that realization once was.
"You know the rules," Chris said, hands reaching through the bars to tentatively grasp Peter's own. While the other boy was only human, Peter always felt like a chip of his pain was drained away in these moments, and it made each departure that more tragic. "As long as the flame keeps burning."
Time never flew as fast as when he was with Chris.
"I brought you a new one."
"Peter." Chris's voice was way too reproachful for a fifteen-year-old, but they could no longer afford to be childish, could they?
"Here," Peter handed over the bloodied object and rejoiced in the gentle fondness with which Chris regarded the item in spite of his disapproval.
Peter hated the mines and the hours they had to spend there daily as cheap workforce, but crystals were a secret treasure down there which were as much beauty in his life as he could get. Granted, he had to provoke the guards first or slice up his own body to use the new wound as a hiding place, but it was all worth it. Even if he later had to cut it open with his own claws, the light in Chris's eyes never seemed brighter than when Peter presented him with a new gift.
"I don't want you to hurt yourself for me," Chris whispered, even as he cradled the crystal in his hand. Not for the first time, the werewolf wished he could reach out and touch the other boy, reassure him that Chris was the only thing that mattered to him anymore. But there was no chance for that, and Peter cursed the mountain ash built into the very structure of his cell, keeping the two of them still so far when standing so close.
"You risk your life every time you come down here," Peter retorted instead, watching Chris's features raptly in the candle's dim halo.
"It's worth it. For you."
Peter smiled, rare and soft, as his wolf reawakened from its sleep.
"Ditto."
"How long do we have?"
"As long as the flame keeps burning," Chris's breath rushed out urgently as he skidded to a stop in front of Peter's cell, candle holder clutched tight. "The others have already taken hold of the armoury. My family's being massacred as we speak."
Peter felt a pang of worry echo in his chest at the nonchalance in the other boy's voice. It wasn't for the Argents, of course, but rather the knowledge that Chris from now on would have to carry this memory with him like some fuel to his nightmares. Peter knew the price of family more than anyone, and now it would taint the life of the boy he loved the most as well. Chris either no longer cared about his family's fate or he was just in shock, but whatever the reason might have been, he was apparently still on Peter's side. Together 'til the end, like they promised. That was the only reason behind Peter's abnormal calmness.
"This man is a hellhound," Chris said, motioning at the older-looking person beside him, not that Peter cared much. "As soon as he burns down the bars, we'll make a run for it."
Peter's eyes locked onto Chris's in search of any trace of uncertainty and felt his heart thunder in his chest when he found none. With a small nod, Peter stepped back and watched as the man's body became engulfed in fire, Chris's eyes burning almost as brightly in the dark.
"You're coming with me?" Peter asked, voice dripping with fear and unprecedented excitement.
Chris's lips curled into a smile then, his word slightly trembling to mirror Peter's. "Always."
Peter inhaled the fresh smell of the night and the surrounding trees, the soothing proximity of nature making his inner wolf jump around with uncontained happiness. His heart leapt in his chest when familiar hands circled around his waist, pulling him back so that his husband's bearded face could scrub affectionately against his neck. It came so easy to let out a contented sigh.
"How long do we have?"
Peter knew that Chris had planned their honeymoon meticulously and they had a schedule to follow, but standing right here at the fires of Yanartaş, Peter didn't wish for anything else than to prolong this moment until the rest of the world passed them by. As if reading his thoughts, Chris hugged him tighter and let Peter feel the peaceful thud inside his chest - their hearts beating a synchronized melody as Chris kissed his words into his husband's skin.
"As long as the flame keeps burning."