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Tristan paced restlessly beside the phone, and Dakan could only watch him. The waning light from the fireplace flickered uneasily, a mocking glow that fed the fires in Tristan’s mind. He had done little else but wear down the carpet as he circled himself again and again. One would think that after being involved in such a monumental operation, he would need food and rest, but he made no such effort, and the discomfort of his exhaustion only fuelled his worries.
Dakan took a step forward to intercept Tristan’s looping path. “Tristan, dear,” he crooned. Tristan met his gaze reluctantly, forced out of his own thoughts. His eyes were reddened from tears and deep creases formed under them. Dakan gathered him in his arms and Tristan sighed dolefully.
“Dakan, what if she’s…?”
“Fretting like this will not help her. You need to eat something, my dear.”
“I can’t. I just… I let her go on for too long. I should have done something more than stand by. It makes me feel sick. I will not rest until Lauren is safe again.” That was final. It was rare to see Tristan so serious, but he was nothing if not a man of his word. When he had a task like this, he would see it through to the bitter end, no matter how much it took out of him. Dakan could usually convince him otherwise, to stop him from destroying himself, but not this time.
Dakan pulled back to cup his lover’s face. Tristan’s skin felt cold to touch. His gaze shifted away from Dakan and the fireplace and to the dark recesses of the room surrounding them. He placed a hand over one of Dakan’s, stuck between instinctively wanting to let that affection in and feeling undeserving of it. It was another comfort he forbade from himself.
“Tristan, look at me,” Dakan murmured, his voice a soft baritone that was as soothing to the ear as water cascading down a rocky riverbed. It was the song of his heart, that voice, and no matter how much guilt he felt in being loved when he had failed in so many ways, he still turned back to Dakan. Those eyes in the sparkle of firelight were like proud oak canopies, strong and stalwart yet forever swaying and dazzling down filtered gold-green sunlight. He was too beautiful to Tristan to feel guilty admiring.
“None of this was your fault,” Dakan reassured him.
Tristan was still resistant. “Seventeen officers died tonight, possibly even eighteen now. Many others have died under my command, far more than under Stefan.”
“Stefan did not spend ten years opposing the Phantom Scythe. Every day, I have no doubt in my mind that you do your best. This is no exception. Lauren’s involvement was completely out of your control.”
“I will never forgive myself if I lose Lauren, no matter the circumstance. There should be no world where I am alive, and she is not. I swore I would never break my promise to Alexander and Rachel and yet…” Tristan choked up on his own words. He gently removed one of Dakan’s hands from his cheek and the other fell away as he turned his back to him.
Dakan’s lips pressed together. This was about Tristan, about how he felt, but his own chest stung with the grief he had smothered. “So did I, and I’m barely ever here for either of you. What does that make me?”
There was a moment of silence between them, only an abrupt crackle of the fire sounding. Dakan could see Tristan tense suddenly at the sound before sighing and his shoulders drooping. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just…”
Dakan approached and placed his hands on Tristan’s shoulders, tenderly massaging the tension from his muscles. He rested his head against Tristan’s, sharing in that deep well of pain he harboured. “I know,” he said into his ear, in a way which showed he really, truly understood. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can get you?”
“I’m not hungry at the moment. Perhaps later, my dear.”
“Of course. In your own time.”
The night continued to drag on and Tristan resumed his pacing as the phone remained silent.
/////
The phone eventually did ring and Tristan received the news of Lauren’s recovery through her Lune partner. Tristan was askance through the entire conversation, evidently distrustful of amount of secrecy at play, but he had no choice but to trust. As soon as he hung up the call, he seemed relieved. He wrapped Dakan in a tight hug. “She’s alive.”
Though there was still a pervasive anguish that surrounded them, Dakan smiled. Tristan then peeled away from the embrace and explained the situation to him, as Dakan had only heard half of the conversation. On top of the paperwork from the glass factory operation, Tristan would have to organise the police and hospital records Lauren needed as soon as possible to conceal her affiliations with Lune. He set to them right away, as time was of the essence.
Dakan, with nothing better to do, tried to sleep. He ultimately couldn’t, as his mind fed him all of the possibilities that could have come from that night, where Tristan and Lauren were gone, and an entire neighbourhood became nothing but rubble and ash. He tossed and turned thinking about his lover’s predicament, and how he toiled away while Dakan lay in bed.
It was only when the first rays of dawn’s light touched the gap between the bedroom curtains that Dakan decided it was useless trying to sleep. He stood, dressed for the day ahead, and made his way downstairs. Tristan was still cooped up in his office, but Lucy had just arrived to take on her duties for the day. She seemed to already notice something was off before Dakan explained the situation to her.
“I see,” she said, troubled by what she had heard. “I think breakfast would be in order, then.”
Dakan gave her a weary smile that didn’t quite reach his tired eyes. “That would be great. Make it something special, won’t you?”
Lucy nodded and set off to work. Dakan paced aimlessly through the house as he waited, the first faint light of dawn streaked across a sky of parting clouds outside of the windows, a few songbirds awakening and announcing the start of another day. Dakan admired the dull winter sunrise, but his thoughts lingered on Tristan. It felt like his lover had been in his office for far too long.
He was grateful, then, when breakfast was served and Tristan came downstairs to join Dakan at the breakfast table. At first he seemed delighted to see a large stack of fluffy pancakes served at the table, but the enthusiasm quickly faded as he sat down to eat.
Tristan cut off and ate a few bites of his pancakes. He cut smaller and smaller chunks but seemed to chew more and more for each bite. Dakan was heartbroken to watch Tristan laboriously work through his favourite food as if it was a chore, and yet he didn’t want to call attention to it by staring too much. He tried to convince himself that Tristan was just eating slower than usual because he was shaken up, that his sense of taste was just off. But then Tristan set down his utensils and abruptly stood after barely finishing a third of a single pancake.
“Pardon me,” he excused himself, barely waiting for Dakan’s nod of acknowledgement. Tristan walked in the direction of the bathroom, his jaw tense and gait uncertain. Dakan sighed as he continued to eat his own food, the scraping of his knife and fork filling the infinite silence.
Tristan eventually returned to the table, and Dakan noticed how much paler his face seemed, and how much weaker his smile was.
He looked awful.
“Are you alright, dear?” Dakan asked, his voice almost betraying his desire to conceal the depth of his worry for his lover.
“I’m fine,” Tristan reassured him, flashing another half-hearted smile. He looked at his food for a moment before instead picking up his coffee mug and drinking from that instead. For how hesitantly he had been picking at his actual food, his coffee sure was disappearing quickly. Before long, he set the empty mug down and then stood once more. “I should go. It’s going to be hell at work today, so I might as well get a head-start.”
He gave Dakan a quick kiss, as if to silence his worries, and headed towards the door, donning his coat, hat and other equipment before leaving. Dakan sighed miserably as he continued eating his breakfast, although it became harder to as he sat with the silence once more.
As he finished, Lucy appeared to take away some of the plates. She too was dismayed to see the state of Tristan’s place at the table.
“Not eating well, is he?”
Dakan shook his head as he wiped his mouth with a napkin and set it down. “I’ve never seen him like this before. I don’t know what to do.”
“We can only wait and see, I’m afraid,” Lucy said sombrely.
Dakan stood himself and tucked his chair in. “Unfortunately it’ll be a long few days ahead of me. I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but… please look after him, will you?”
“Of course,” Lucy smiled. “Take care of yourself too, sir.”
/////
Lauren had finally come back home a few days later, and both Dakan and Tristan returned home as soon as they could to meet her. All three of them looked a mess, but they hugged and cried, happy to at least be reunited again. Then, they sat down as Lauren explained everything. Dakan was beyond relieved. Not only was Lauren well, but Tristan was sure to finally have peace of mind.
At least, that’s what he thought.
That illusion of peace and restfulness was broken that night when Tristan awoke suddenly beside him. Dakan slowly woke up as well but feigned continuing to sleep as he listened to Tristan carefully yet quickly leave the bed and rush to the bathroom. This time, Dakan could hear as Tristan retched and vomited. He knew Lucy had been feeding him plenty, but that food evidently wasn’t staying down. Tristan spent a long time in the bathroom, probably hunched over the toilet bowl as he waited for the next wave of nausea before he eventually purged the contents of his stomach. He flushed the toilet for a final time before he washed his hands and left the bathroom to return to sleep.
By that point, Dakan decided he couldn’t sit by and pretend not to notice what ailed his lover. He sat up and greeted Tristan as he emerged from the bathroom.
“Sorry, did I wake you up?” Tristan asked, a little ashamed.
“Tristan, you do not have to pretend around me,” Dakan said earnestly. “There’s no shame in not being okay right now, especially after what you’ve been through.”
Tristan sighed as he climbed into the bed and settled down beside Dakan. “I don’t know, Dakan… saying it out loud will just make it seem silly.”
“I would never judge you.”
“I’ve… become so stressed that I don’t even know what it is that scares me so much. It makes me feel so sick all the time. I should be happy if nothing else. Lauren is alive. I should feel better now, but I don’t.”
Dakan placed an arm around his lover and drew him closer. “Give yourself time, my dear. It’s okay.”
“I know,” Tristan reassured him. “I’ll try. I love you, Dakan.”
“I love you too.”