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The sun was setting. The world was no less broken, and in the long shadows of almost-night, the landscape looked horrific and almost nightmarish in its desolation.
Tom sat alone atop the roof of the Hall of Legends, cold can of beer in one hand, and tried as he had been doing for the past few hours to make the utter ruin around him line up with the odd, quiet peace that had recently made its home in his chest. It felt wrong, almost, that he felt this serene while the end of the world hurtled at him at terrifying speeds.
No, not serene. That wasn't the right word. Tom took another swig of beer, the can almost empty, and threw it off of the roof as hard as he could. It landed on the roof of his house below with a surprisingly quiet clatter. Serenity was a type of bliss, and this was more like a solemn acknowledgement of all that had come and would come to pass.
It was strange, feeling this calm in the face of everything, but Tom at least knew the source of this quiet resolve.
He knew he wasn't pining, because he already knew what that felt like: something that brought you to your knees, threatened to claw your chest open from the inside, something with teeth that gnashed and claws that tore with the sheer force of its being. Tom knew that feeling well. It had slowly hollowed him out from the inside over the years and made a cavern out of his soul.
He knew this calm from fleeting moments of beauty in the past that he'd later clung onto for dear life when things got rough: a late evening spent passing a single bottle of wine around four pairs of hands, the lamplight warm and low, laughter echoing throughout the room. Kneeling on the floor of Ianite's temple in his socks shortly after he'd taken the place of his god, shivering in fear, Tucker taking his hand and helping him to his feet, forgiving him for all he'd done. A half-remembered drunken night he'd spent with Jordan, liquor lacing their breaths and their tongues.
(Admittedly, that last one was more of a guilty pleasure than anything, but Tom held onto it anyways because despite the obvious sacrilege of the act, something about it had felt beautifully right all the same. The memory of that warmth had gotten him through many a long, cold night.)
This peace was permanent, though, however bittersweet it was.
After he'd confessed to Jordan, Tom had feigned business as an excuse to leave as soon as possible. In reality, as soon as he'd gotten home, he'd just sat down on his bed and stared at the floor, trying to come to terms with the solemn, strangely peaceful silence that filled his soul instead of the usual haphazard mix of stubborn desperation and recklessness that propelled him forwards through this life.
Tom hadn't really talked to anyone else since then, mostly out of conviction that they'd be able to sense the change in his being instantly. He was different now and there was no going back, no ignoring it. He was a changed man.
His phone buzzed, and he checked it with a silent sigh, smiling to himself. The message was from Jordan to the group chat that the rest of Tiem Reester was in, requesting their presence at the top level of the Fortress of Fury so that they could have one last night together before everything went down tomorrow.
Also, Jordan added, bring the best drinks you have. No use half-assing this celebration.
Celebration of what? asked Tucker.
Actually, I'm not sure, replied Jordan, but we're not going to get another chance to use all this apple cider we have, so may as well go out with a bang.
When should we be there? asked Wag.
As soon as you can.
Well, that put a pin in his afternoon plans to not talk to anyone.
Tom hopped off of the roof of the Hall of Legends with a sigh and, grabbing a six-pack of beer from his fridge and a leftover bottle of cider from Steve, made his way over to the Fortress of Fury, determinedly not looking down at the gaping chasm below him where the ocean once rolled.
He wished he had more time to properly process and grieve the ruin that had befallen this world. He wished he had more time in general. All his life he had sprinted towards the future and ignored his present, hoping for something better, but now the future had been cut off right in front of his feet and he was forced to make do with what he had.
There it was again: that bittersweet ache in his chest. Instead of pushing it aside like he usually would have, Tom savored it and the quiet purpose it lent his movements.
He was going to make this count.
He had to.
Jordan stood upon the tallest tower of the Fortress of Fury, leaning against one of the battlements, looking at the sunset. He lifted one hand slightly in greeting as Tom landed behind him, setting the beer and the cider onto the roof with a clank of metal and glass.
Instead of his usual button-up and heavy velvet jacket, Jordan wore a simple white t-shirt and black pants, the purple silk sash at his waist tied carefully as it always was.
The striking simplicity of Jordan's outfit was not lost on Tom, who knew him well enough to understand what it meant at first glance: tomorrow would be the culmination of everything they'd been working towards. The work they had to do would not be easy, nor would it be without its hangups. Tomorrow would be a blood day, an armor day, a final fight for all they loved.
Tonight, though, they could sit back and raise one last toast to the dusk of Ruxomar in all its fading glory.
All this and more sat unspoken in the space between Jordan's shoulders as Tom walked up to stand next to him, the silence unspooling comfortably between them. They had said everything they'd needed to earlier, after all.
In front of them, approaching from the northwest, Tucker blazed into view, the shadow bridge he traveled upon manifesting quicker than the eye could see as he ran. Tom and Jordan both ducked habitually as he casually hopped off of the bridge and onto the roof, the movement easy and practiced. "Sup." Tucker set two large bottles onto the roof with a satisfying clink. "I got hard cider."
"I get the strange feeling that we're going to have a lot of that this evening," said Jordan, leaning back against the battlement with his arms crossed and one eyebrow raised.
"Hey, I brought beer, so even if Sonja and Wag bring hard cider too, we'll have a little variety at least," said Tom with a shrug.
"Yeah," said Tucker, taking his helmet off and shaking his hair out a little underneath it. "Not that I'm complaining. Steve's hard cider is the good shit."
"It sure is," Jordan agreed, producing a bottle opener from fucking nowhere and spinning it absently on one finger. "We can just ignore the fact that you probably stole it from his house."
Tom snorted. Tucker crossed his arms defensively, the small scars that crisscrossed them standing out heavily in the late evening light, the result of months spent pouring his own life force into becoming a blood mage. "Excuse me," he started haughtily, "I did no such thing. They were sitting in my house like they had been for months."
"Sure," said Jordan, a small grin playing at the corner of his lips.
Tucker rolled his eyes. "Don't get onto me, mister 'I organized this thing but I didn't even bring any of my own drinks,'" he said scornfully. "What kind of shitty host do you have to be to not even provide your own booze?"
Jordan shrugged a little bit in defeat. "Yeah, that's fair," he said. "In my defense, though, I drank through basically everything I had left after Ianite died and it's a little bit hard to come by things like that these days, if you haven't noticed already."
Tucker raised both hands in defeat. "Okay. Damn. Good point."
"Greetings, gentlemen," said Waglington, appearing atop the elevator with a wooden crate held in both arms. "I brought wine and some bread I baked yesterday."
"Thank fucking God, it's not all going to be hard cider," said Tucker, relieved.
"I did also bring a bottle of that," said Wag with a small, apologetic grin. "But most of it is wine."
"You are the exact sort of person who would drink wine, you classy bastard," said Tom, impressed.
"Thank you!" said Wag, beaming. "I like the taste."
Sonja was the last to show up, holding a large, opaque glass bottle that sloshed ominously as she set it down with an effort. "Hi," she said. "Sorry I'm late. This thing is fucking heavy."
"What the actual fuck do you have in there?" asked Tom, slightly worried.
"Alcohol," said Sonja.
"Well yeah, no shit," said Tom. "If I drink it, will it kill me?"
Sonja paused a moment to consider the question, head tilted. Tom stared at Tucker, who silently shrugged helplessly. "Probably not," she said thoughtfully. "I give it a 30% chance."
"A 30% chance of it killing us if we drink it?" asked Jordan.
"I mean, we're all gonna die anyways," said Sonja with a shrug. "Technically it has a 100% mortality rate if you wait long enough. But yeah."
"Okay, great," said Tom, taking a beer out of the 6-pack. Jordan handed him the bottle opener and he popped the cap off of the top with a satisfying snap. "Thanks for letting us know, Sonja. I will not be touching that shit." He took a swig directly from the bottle and sat back against the battlements with a heavy sigh.
"Did nobody bring cups?" asked Wag, mildly offended.
"Nope," said Tucker, taking a seat crosslegged on the roof as well. "No chairs either. We're doing this the old-fashioned way."
And with that, the five settled in for the night.
Tom, whose tongue was usually knocked loose after a few rounds of alcohol, stayed quiet this evening, focusing instead on the warmth of his friends around him, simply letting himself rest in the familiarity of their chatter.
Sonja perched on one of the battlements, legs swinging, hands deftly accenting her speech with more and more fervor as the night wore on. Wag sat against the wall, casual and relaxed, occasionally interjecting with a spark of wit or a loud laugh.
Tucker leaned lazily back with his bottle held loosely in one hand, one knee up, tongue loosening and becoming coarser the deeper he drank. He was a perfect snapshot in motion, all perpendicular angles and loud laughs, his voice dominating the conversation no matter the subject.
Jordan, meanwhile, was more subdued than usual. He smiled often but his eyes were never quite focused, mind elsewhere. He took sparse, careful sips of his cider like he was pondering its contents.
The moon rose. Stars wheeled lazily overhead. Cast in the light of a single torch placed atop the tower's roof, the night air steeped in gentle humidity and the mingled scent of flowers, alcohol, and sweat, Tom sat back and shut his eyes and simply drank it all in, let it wash over him like a warm breeze.
He was home.
His veins hummed with the truth of that fact and more than a little bit of beer as well. He let himself drift off a little, half-listening to the conversation at hand. Something about the plan for tomorrow. He didn't really care.
Dimly, Tom registered that someone was saying his name and came back to with an effort, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Tucker was looking at him with one eyebrow raised expectantly. "Earth to Thomas," he said. "You there?"
"Yeah," Tom mumbled, shaking himself gently awake. "Sorry. Think I dozed off for a minute there."
"Yeah, you did," said Tucker, sitting up a little and biting into a chunk of Wag's bread. "What's up with you, man?"
Tom blinked stupidly at him. "What do you mean?"
"Okay, that's enough beer for you, mister," said Sonja, leaning over and grabbing the bottle from Tom's side. She snapped his fingers in front of his eyes a little. "Snap out of it."
"Okay, okay," Tom said with an effort, trying to get his sluggish mind to maybe go a little faster. He rubbed his eyes again and tried to focus on the stone underneath his hand. "Seriously, though, what do you mean what's up with me?"
Tucker snorted in mild disbelief. "Like you don't normally talk your fuckin' ass off when you get drunk, man," he said. "We know you better than that."
"Mhm," agreed Wag. "You do seem more... subdued than usual. Did something happen?"
Tom snapped awake at that, sitting up and taking full stock of the area. Jordan was sitting casually against the wall, face half-cast in shadow. Tom glanced at him for support and he looked up at him, eyebrows raised gently as if suggesting that Tom was on his own for this one.
Tucker looked from Tom to Jordan, face flushed red by the alcohol. "Okay, yeah, something's up with you two," he decided. "What is it?"
"Oh, come on, you know that's not fair," drawled Sonja. "There's always something up with those two."
"I'm right here, you know," said Tom.
"So answer my question," said Tucker, looking right at him. "What the actual fuck's going on with you?"
Tom sighed. "Well, I'm kind of preoccupied with the fact that the world's going to end tomorrow," he said, crossing his legs and leaning back against the battlements. "I don't know what else to tell you, mate. My mind's just kind of elsewhere at the moment."
"Yeah, no shit," said Tucker with a snort. "That's still not it, though, 'cos the last time the world ended, you were out there cracking jokes with the rest of us."
"Well, maybe things change over time," said Tom defensively.
"Jordan, you've been awfully quiet," added Sonja. "Got uh, anything you want to add to the conversation, buddy?"
"Oh, please," said Tucker, folding his arms. "By all means. I bet they're plotting to kill us or some fuckin' shit like that."
Jordan just sighed. "No, we're not," he said. "I'm just thinking about tomorrow as well, amongst other things."
"What type of other things?" Sonja pressed, eyes glowing oddly in the torchlight.
"He's not a fucking steak, you know," said Tom. "Stop grilling him, for God's sake."
"Thank you," said Jordan with a nod in his direction. He took a swig of hard cider. "Maybe there's nothing going on and you're both just being paranoid for no reason. You never know."
"Okay," said Tucker suspiciously just as Sonja laughed in disbelief. He pointed at Jordan, finger wavering a little. "That is the worst fucking thing you could have said there, buddy, because now I am absolutely convinced that you two are up to some shit. I've been carrying this whole evening on my back and you two have just been dicking around on planet Jupiter the whole time."
"Jupiter is nice," Jordan said absently. "It's got a nice hue to it."
"You're not helping your case here, you know," said Wag. "But no, seriously, I'm starting to get a little worried about the both of you."
"Yeah," said Sonja.
"I know I'm pressing you both like crazy, but that's probably just because I'm drunk as shit," said Tucker with a sigh. "Wag said it better than I did anyways. 'M not tryna antagonize anyone. I've been thinking about the end too, but usually you two can at least bring the mood up when we're talking about it."
"Yeah," said Wag with a nod. "We're just asking because we care about you."
"You can tell us anything, you know," said Sonja helpfully.
Tom looked over at Jordan, who glanced around the circle with a sigh before leaning over towards him.
"Do you want to tell them?" he asked in a low voice.
Tom glanced over at Tucker, who was looking at them with both eyebrows raised, then back to Jordan. "I mean, we don't really have a choice," he said with a small laugh. "But you know what, fuck it." He leaned back, the beer lending him a confidence he absolutely would not have had while sober. "World's fuckin' ending tomorrow. May as fuckin' well."
"Great," said Sonja. "So... why are you acting so weird?"
"Well," said Tom loftily, grabbing the bottle back from her and taking another sip, "you've already noticed that something's up with me. I am indeed quieter than usual. Congratulations on your incredible detective skills."
"Thanks," said Sonja slowly.
"Anyways, I woke up this morning and everything was fucked up to high hell," said Tom. "Dianite told me that we were going to try reviving them tomorrow-"
"Him and m'lady," added Jordan.
"Yeah," said Tom. "And Ianite. But yeah, I'm going to be completely honest, I am not expecting to survive past tomorrow."
Wag looked over at him, concerned, and Tom looked at Jordan for support. Jordan nodded at him, eyes gentle, and Tom took a deep breath before continuing.
"So in the face of all that," he said, "I went over to Jordan and I did something that I've been wanting to do for a very long time now."
"Which was?" prompted Wag.
Tom smiled wide in anticipation of everyone's reactions and Sonja groaned in frustration.
"Fucking what?" demanded Tucker.
"I told him that I was in love with him," said Tom, grinning like an idiot. "And that I had been for years." He took another swig of beer and relished the shocked silence that had fallen over the roof.
"Oh my fucking god," said Sonja, putting one hand over her mouth. Tucker's jaw slowly dropped open. Wag just nodded once, as if he had been expecting this.
Tom glanced towards Jordan, eyes shining, and found him wearing a small but proud grin, also clearly enjoying the chaos that the announcement had made.
"Did he actually?" asked Sonja, looking at Jordan in disbelief.
"Yep," said Jordan with a small laugh. "Gods. You all look like idiots right now."
"Tucker, you should really shut your mouth," said Tom gleefully. "Wouldn't want a moth to fly in there!"
"Fucking FINALLY," yelled Tucker, standing up and putting both of his hands on his head. "Oh my fucking god. It finally fucking happened. I thought you were both going to remain oblivious forever!"
Jordan busted out laughing at that. Tom stood up as well, pointing right at Tucker. "Well, jokes on you, we're not!" he said gleefully. "I told him! I finally grew balls and I fucking told him!"
"Did you kiss about it?" asked Wag.
"Oh, you have no idea," said Tom, folding his arms. "Mate. We kissed so fucking hard about it."
"Welp, my life is now complete," said Tucker, sitting back down with a contented sigh. "I can die happy now."
"Still doesn't explain why you're so quiet, though," said Sonja as Tom sat back down heavily. "I thought you'd be over the moon about this."
"Oh, trust me, I am," said Tom, "but- it's a bit complicated." He sighed. "The weird thing is, ever since I told him, I've kind of been at peace for the first time in my life and I don't really know what to do about it." He looked awkwardly down at his hands, continuing more quietly now. "I'm not good with words. I'm not good at being genuine. But even though I'm two years late, now that this is off of my chest, this is the best I've ever felt. I guess I'm just kind of sad because this is going to be so short-lived, y'know?"
It was silent for a moment after that, everyone taking a second to process what had just been said. Tom looked back up to see that Sonja's eyes were sparkling with tears. Wag just looked at him in gentle awe. "Tom," he said softly, "I think that's the most beautiful thing you've ever said."
"Thank you," said Tom quietly. Jordan moved a little closer towards him and put one hand on his shoulder in gentle reassurance.
"Who said we're going to die?" asked Tucker.
"I just don't think our chances are great," Tom said, looking directly at him. "Listen, okay? This is going to be difficult to pull off even if everything goes right. I mean, just think about it, right?" He sat up a little straighter, voice growing louder with a mix of stubbornness and bitterness. "The odds are stacked against us. The only reason I said anything at all is because in the face of all this bullshit, it gave me the courage to speak up."
"Hey," said Jordan, gently but firmly. Tom looked down at the ground. "Do you remember the last time we had the odds stacked against us like this?"
"Yeah," said Tucker. "It was just us, one god, and the spirit of Ianite all against Dianite."
"Mhm," said Jordan. "And look what happened there."
Tom opened his mouth to argue, but Jordan looked at him so seriously yet so gently that he was struck dumb. In the torchlight, he almost glowed.
"We're going to make it past tomorrow," Jordan said softly. He hesitated a bit and looked down, embarrassed. "And I'll still love you then."
Tom just nodded, eyes filling up with tears. He wiped them stubbornly from his cheek. He could hear the other three walking over to sit next to him, felt gentle hands resting on his back.
"But what if we don't make it?" he whispered. "What if I die?"
"Then we'll avenge the shit out of you," said Sonja. The other three nodded in agreement. "And if we all die, well, at least it'll have been for a good cause."
"But that won't happen," added Wag, "because we're the most badass people in the entire multiverse and we have a guy on our side who literally killed a god one time and absorbed all of his power."
"Fuck yeah," said Tucker.
"We're not going anywhere," agreed Jordan, patting Tom on the back. "But speaking of, I think that maybe we should go to bed. We have big things tomorrow."
"That's probably a good idea," agreed Wag. Tom shut his eyes again, but he heard everyone moving around him. Jordan did not move, keeping his hand on his shoulder reassuringly.
"I don't want to go home," Tom said quietly.
"That's okay," said Jordan. "You can stay here if you want."
"Are you sure?" Tom asked, looking over at him.
Jordan nodded. "Yeah. I don't mind." He smiled a little bit. "And anyways, we both probably need the sleep."
"Bye, lovebirds," said Sonja, picking up the (untouched) bottle full of the mysterious, ominous liquid and kicking off gently into midair. "See you bitches tomorrow."
"Bye," said Tom, waving at her.
"Don't get too frisky," said Tucker cheerfully before zooming off. Jordan rolled his eyes.
"Rest well," said Wag, picking up his drinks and walking over to the elevator. "And hey, by the way?"
"Yeah?" asked Jordan.
"I'm really happy for you both," said Wag with a small smile. "I wish you the best. See you tomorrow."
"Thanks, man," said Jordan. Wag nodded once and disappeared downstairs.
With a small sigh, Tom got to his feet. Jordan followed suit.
"We're gonna be alright," said Tom, half convincing himself.
"We are," said Jordan. "I know it."