Work Text:
Some days, Keefe hated having manifested early.
At the time, the thought of despising his ability never crossed his mind. He was an Empath ! A powerful one, at that. When he had told his father, there was a flicker of pride that Keefe clung onto for days, and barely any comments on how he could’ve manifested a better ability.
His mother tried to test him for conjuring, which was weird at the time and a clue in hindsight, but it didn’t matter! For half a week, he could pretend his life was great! He wasn’t that different from the Vackers after all.
Except he was nothing like the Vackers. And he figured that out the second he tried to feel any type of love coming from his parents.
Maybe Sophie should have been the Empath. Then she could have felt how much her parents loved her all her life instead of hearing their doubtful thoughts about how she didn’t belong. And naturally, every time she hugged Grady and Edaline…
…well, it certainly would be different from when Keefe’s father put his hand on his shoulder, that was for sure.
Her parents had even been kind to him, and while Grady had certainly never been his number one fan for reasons Keefe entirely understood, he kept having to remind himself every night to not reach over for the imparter he’d left with him. He felt like he needed something, and his stupid brain with all its stupid issues with his stupid parents somehow felt like a father figure like Grady was the answer.
It wasn’t the answer.
Staying away from that entire life was the answer.
And yet, the night he finally gave in was the night he realized he couldn’t feel anyone’s emotions anymore.
Keefe was used to a slightly mistrusting look on Grady’s face. Disapproval. Some kind of resignation in his eyes that Keefe would always be close to his daughter. But when he answered the call, the look in his eyes was something he couldn’t even describe. He looked like he was almost relieved to hear from him, terribly concerned by the state of him, and fighting the urge to chide him for running away again. It felt like…
…it didn’t matter what it felt like.
Grady sighed. “Do you want to talk to her?”
“Want” was a strong word for it. The thought of facing Sophie again, after running away despite his promise to not do exactly that… he could still hear his words, empty even then, telling her he’d always stay. He’d never leave again.
But this might be what he needed.
Luckily, he didn’t even have to say that. “You need to talk to her,” Grady decided. “I’ll go get her.”
“Isn’t it late where you guys are?” Keefe said, surprised by how scratchy his voice sounded, He hadn’t realized how long it had been since he’d used his voice for conversation. “She needs her sleep.”
“She’s not sleeping,” Grady promised, though he didn’t sound strictly happy about it.
That certainly sounded like the Foster he knew.
Still, Keefe held his breath as Grady walked up the stairs of Havenfield, hoping somewhere in his heart that Sophie would be getting her rest and Grady wouldn’t interrupt her, and then hating himself for hoping he wouldn’t have to talk to her when he knew he’d gone too long without this particular lifeline.
But she was wide awake, just like Grady had said.
And she looked…
Well, she looked better than him, that was for sure. But when Grady held up the imparter and said, “There’s someone who wants to talk to you,” a million expressions flashed across her face. Expressions Keefe knew intimately.
Those expressions were almost always paired with specific emotions he could feel all the way to the core of his being.
And seeing them again was something.
He could practically feel those emotions now.
“Can I talk to him alone?” Sophie asked Grady, and the sound of her voice was like music. Beautiful music. He couldn’t believe he’d ever let himself stray so far from the sound. For a moment, he couldn’t even remember why he’d run away, why he’d denied himself the chance to see her, hear her, experience everything wonderful about her. He couldn’t remember why he hadn’t meant his promise to stay.
And then his complete lack of feeling registered again, and everything real in his life came back to him.
Foster was real, yes, but she was also a dream. And him and her being together, and that being safe and good and home, that was always going to be a dream, and nothing more.
“Did I actually go to sleep?” Sophie said, and it sounded as if she was murmuring the words to herself.
“What, dream about me often?” he joked. It came out… mostly right. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be fully out of practice with that. But the way his voice came out, and the way they both looked, and the circumstances of their communication definitely changed the way the words sounded. “I know I dream about you,” he added softly, almost wondering if the imparter wouldn’t pick it up.
But it must have, because her eyes widened.
She looked like she had a million things she wanted to say, which was good, because Keefe had no idea what to say. He wasn’t sure he could even form words. Eventually, what came out was a strangled, “You promised.”
Keefe looked away. He had promised. He knew that. And even in the moment, he’d wondered how meaningful the words were. He wondered if it was a promise he could keep. But wondering hadn’t kept him from saying the words. He hadn’t even hesitated.
Foster deserved better than that.
But Keefe wasn’t better than that, and he knew it.
“I know,” he eventually said. “I’m sorry.”
“Again?” she said, and the strangled sound now sounded like she was fighting back tears. “You’re sorry again. Is that a promise too? Do you promise me that you’re sorry? Wonder how long that one’s going to last!”
Keefe flinched. “I deserve that,” he admitted.
“Yeah, you do, or I wouldn’t have said it.” The fiery look in Sophie’s eyes was something he’d missed, but the way her eyes softened, like she was looking through his exterior and seeing everything he was feeling never failed to catch him off guard.
Though, if she was looking for his feelings, she wouldn’t see very much right now.
“You called, though,” she said softly.
“And you answered.”
“Grady answered,” Sophie corrected. “Maybe I would have just let the imparter buzz.”
“You wouldn’t have.”
Sophie pursed her lips, looking down. “Well, I guess you can read me even through the screen, then,” she muttered.
“You’d be surprised,” Keefe said bitterly. “I can’t even read what I’m feeling right now.” I’m not sure I’m feeling anything at all.
The thought should’ve sparked something, even if it was just self-pity. But there wasn’t anything.
It was just an endless, inescapable hole of nothing.
The concern on Sophie’s face, paired with the all-too-familiar crinkle between her eyebrows, was so strong he could almost feel it just from habit. He wished that it worked. He wished the memory was strong enough for him to feel it. “What do you mean you can’t read what you’re feeling?” she asked, before shaking her head violently, like she was erasing the question. “No. New question. Where are you? I’m teleporting now.”
“You need to rest,” Keefe said weakly, as though every fiber of his body wasn’t screaming at him to tell her to come and find him, starving for her presence. It’s better this way, he told himself, but even he could tell he didn’t believe it anymore. He didn’t believe it any more than Sophie would ever believe his promises again.
“I need you,” Sophie insisted earnestly, and if he had any remaining resolve to keep them apart, it crumbled at the sound of those words.
“Open your thoughts to mine,” he mumbled. “I’ll show you where I am.”
“I haven’t been able to reach you lately,” Sophie admitted. “I just… can’t find you. Not like I used to be able to.”
Keefe flinched guiltily.
“...Keefe. Have you been ignoring me?”
“It was easier that way,” he whispered, unable to look at her face when he said the words.
“Easier for you,” she said sharply. “Do you know how hard you’ve made things for me? How long it’s been since I slept without dreaming that you’d come home? How long it’s been since I slept?”
“You don’t have to come.”
“Oh, I’m coming, all right.”
He let her open her mind to his, showing her a picture of where he was standing. It only took her seventeen seconds (and yes, he counted) before she tumbled out of the void, right in front of him, and wow.
She was stunning.
He wasn’t ever going to be able to lay eyes on her without thinking the words.
Even when he’d broken her trust and knew he deserved every harsh word she threw his direction.
But then it hit him like a truck.
“I can’t feel what you’re feeling,” he whispered.
Some part of him had been counting on her being the exception, as always. He couldn’t feel anything, but surely he could still feel her. He could always feel her.
“Is this like…” Sophie gulped. “Like… like with Vespera—”
“No!” Keefe yelped immediately, before considering it with a sinking feeling in his stomach. “At least… I don’t think so. Not yet.”
“Keefe…”
“I was sure you could make me feel something,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut as he realized how broken and pathetic the words sounded. If Sophie Foster couldn’t even… wait.
She could.
She had that power. She always did. “Inflict on me.”
“What—are you out of your mind?”
“Please. I need… I can’t do this.” He gestured to himself. “I can’t feel anything, Sophie, and I know this sounds stupid, but I need you to fix it. You’re the only one who can fix it.”
“I mean, technically I’m not the only Inflictor in the—”
“You’re the only one who can fix it,” he said again, stronger, like he was trying to get her to understand the underlying meaning of what he was really saying. That he couldn’t live without her. That she was absolutely everything to him, even when he felt like he needed to be without her. Because when he was without her, suddenly he was nothing. Always.
Sophie swallowed hard. “Okay,” she whispered. “What do you want me to…”
“Anything. Whatever’s easiest. I’ll even take pain, just… something.”
“Keefe! Absolutely not!”
“I’m sorry, I just need—”
“Keefe, listen to me.” She grabbed his hands, and he gasped, because she was so horrified and worried that he could almost… “I’m not going to hurt you and I don’t want you to want to hurt yourself, do you understand me?”
“I… do,” he said, not meeting her gaze, “but please. If it takes hurting me–”
“It won’t.” Her gaze was set with determination. “Give me a second. As long as you’re not allergic to happiness like some people…”
He cracked a smile as he remembered her telling him the story of her inflicting session with Bronte. He wished he could laugh about it… actually, he… she was trying it, wasn’t she?
Because he could feel it.
He could actually feel it and now he knew what he’d always been thinking when he’d called her his lifeline.
He also felt the moment she withdrew her powers and opened her eyes. “Did that work?”
“It did,” he admitted, “and now it’s…. really a shock feeling so numb again.”
She stepped closer to him, reaching out to grab his hands. “Keefe… I’m so sorry. I wish I could just make you feel something all the time.”
“You do make me feel things all the time,” he whispered. “Even when… even now… there’s some things that just won’t go away.
Her breath hitched, but she stayed holding his hands.
She stared at their joined hands like she was trying to figure something out. “Maybe…” she murmured, her voice trailing off as she averted her gaze, and he could almost tell exactly what she was feeling. Almost.
It was the most he’d felt in a long time.
He should have known Foster would be the answer.
“I don’t know… I don’t know if you understand,” he whispered breathlessly, because she was breathtaking, just like always, and… “I wish I could read you right now.”
“You’d find… complicated feelings.”
Now he was the one who stopped breathing. “Complicated how?”
She looked up, meeting his gaze. “Not the feelings you’d be expecting right now, considering how angry I am,” she admitted. “I feel… really betrayed, honestly. But… that’s not what you’d be reading from me, I think.”
“Then what would I be reading?” He was dying to know. Could she be feeling… would she ever… should he even let himself think…
“I just… you,” she said, squeezing his hands. “I know it makes no sense, but it’s like you’re in my senses, or something.”
“You’re always in my senses, Foster,” he murmured. “A minute ago, literally, but also always. And… you’re in my thoughts, too.” He leaned closer. “Do you want to read my mind?”
Both of them were standing close, and nothing about anything was okay. In fact, the entire situation was wrong, but they still kept coming closer to the other, searching for their lifeline even when it had let them down. “Okay,” she said, closing her eyes as she slipped into his mind. He let himself think about everything he’d ever wanted, and just how much he cared… how much he loved her… and waited with bated breath for her reaction as he watched the scenes play out in his mind that he had let his mind drift to far too many times.
“When you said earlier that you dream about me,” she said quietly, “is that what you dream about?”
“Too often,” he whispered.
“Can I make those dreams real?”
“Oh, stars, yes.”
He hoped she meant what he thought she meant, letting her lean in before he closed the final distance. Time paused for them the moment their lips connected.
And… he could feel this. He pulled back just for a moment, mumbling against her lips, “This makes me feel something, too.”
“Then let’s keep doing it,” she said, pulling him back down to kiss her, and it was too amazing. All time and place related thoughts fled both of their minds. So what if he deepened the kiss in search of feeling anything at all? So what if he had just a few minutes ago been begging Sophie to make him feel anything, even if it meant hurting him? So what if he’d broken his promises and she felt betrayed and the trust between them would never truly be the same? Keefe had wanted this for a long time, and he could tell, right now, that Sophie wanted it just as badly.
He pulled her even tighter against him, moving his mouth over hers and never wanting this to end. They were so close he thought they might lose their balance—though perhaps he’d be more likely to lose his balance just from how new and thrilling it was to be kissing her.
He pulled back again, needing to tell her anything about how amazing she was. “You’re a wonder,” he breathed.
Sophie blushed, though her cheeks were already red, and he realized both of them were breathing faster than they had been a few minutes before. “Shut your mouth and kiss me, or I’m probably going to slap you.”
“Yes ma’am.”
He could tell she liked hearing the words, not just because of the enthusiastic way she pulled him down roughly to continue kissing her, but because he could feel her reaction. It was fainter than normal, but it was something, and it felt wonderful.
The next break in their kiss was Sophie pulling back to talk, that little hypocrite. “I’m glad I came here instead of you coming to Havenfield.” Her breathing was even shakier now, and he could help but feel… slightly proud of that. “Grady probably has a sixth sense for when I’m kissing a boy.”
“And I have a sixth sense for how much you like kissing me, so I’m not sure why you stopped.”
“Yeah, me neither.”
And their lips reconnected.
Maybe they would do this forever.
It would be preferable to facing the world.
And right now, even with their relationship in the most precarious place it had been in a long time, this moment was proof that they would always need each other. Whenever they were apart, no matter what, a part of him would always crave her presence in his bones. And now he could feel her, and he knew she felt the exact same way, and he was sure it was the greatest thing he would ever learn.
She would always be enough.
And from now on, he would strive to be good enough for her.