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“So… um, so.” Julian shifts a book in line with the rest, fiddles with the fraying edge of the spine, and slides it back out to shift the order around some more. “Well, it worked. I met the Hanged Man, got the rest of my memories back, got my cure, and…”
He scratches mindlessly at the pressed together pages, brow furrowing. It’s like he wants to look over, but knows doing so would make what he wants to say even harder.
“Listen, uh, just stay calm and listen to me, okay? I found out that… that…”
His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again, before he bites his lip.
You take in a quiet breath. “That you knew me… and I died?”
His head whips up in a flash. Wide eyes stare at you. “Wh… How did…? I was psyching myself up to tell you that and you already knew?”
You could almost laugh at his shock. At the look on his face.
But a waver at the back of your throat prevented anything as joyful as that from forming. You swallowed before saying, “I didn’t know. Not until today.”
He blinks cluelessly at you.
“I saw you, in the Hanged Man’s realm. I couldn’t call out to you, I couldn’t reach you, but… I heard everything.”
You can see the realization dawn on his face, in the way his eyes widen and soften with sympathy. “Are you… are you okay?”
Your mind spins.
Are you okay?
This morning, maybe you could say you were. Even as Julian was being carted away to be hanged, as his eyes gaze across the crowd and locked onto you. As his body fell out from under him. You could have bit your cheek, sucked it up for a moment more, clinging to the hope his plan would work.
You could watch him die, and still hold on just enough to reassure Portia that he would be okay.
But this?
Every time the thought reaches the forefront of your mind, your head spins. A headache presses at your temples, your stomach churns, your heart feels off-beat. How… How can you be okay?
You shake your head weakly, eyes falling from his face, vision unfocused as hot tears begin pooling too quickly to try stopping them. “No. I… no, I’m not.”
His words sound distant. All you’re aware of is his cool hand touching your shoulder, guiding you down to the ratty old cot taking up space in the small cell. The way his hands glide around you, pulling you into his chest.
And all at once, you finally break.
Harsh sobs shake you to your core as you hug him back. The fabric of his shirt becomes a prisoner in your tight grip, tugging desperately to pull him closer and closer.
His hand cups the back of your head, guiding your face to his neck. He whispers reassurances - mindless platitudes to try distracting your mind from the terrible truth to your missing memories. Kisses planted sweetly at your temple and hairline.
“Who-” You have to gasp for air. Your lungs burn with the next sob, especially as you try to stifle it down against his skin. “Who was I?”
He stiffens under you, and squeezes you tighter in his hold.
That person you used to be… You’d never know them. When at one time, all you knew was yourself, suddenly that rug has been ripped out from under you. Is who you are now- are you even you? Would your past self have become this? Were you them anymore? Did you share anything with them anymore?
And all those memories. All those days, all that time spent living just… gone. Did you used to think of your parents on holidays? Were you even close enough to them to think of them? Were they even alive? You know your shop belonged to your aunt, but you don’t even remember her anymore.
How many childhood memories bathed in golden nostalgia are lost now? How many friends did you used to have, now faded into obscurity?
God, friends. You tried so hard to be kind to all of the vendors at the market, but they all stared at you so warily. No matter what you tried, they were always on edge, always whispering behind your back. Even the baker had his moments of unease toward the beginning of your newest memories. Asra was the only friend you had. For so long. Who else had come before him?
And Julian! You’d known him! Worked as his apprentice! Were you friends then? Did you drink Salty Bitters at the Rowdy Raven together back then? Did you share secrets late in the night? Did you welcome him at work with a cup of coffee? Or did you drift through life back then, too? Keeping a practical distance between you both, staying professional, never anything deeper than that.
You press your face further into his shoulder. You can’t imagine it. You can’t imagine not being as close to Julian as you are now. All the adventures and laughter and love…
But you wish you could remember it. Just for a moment.
Julian brushes your hair back, humming a song out of tune by your ear. You wonder how long he’s been humming for, you didn’t even notice when it began. You focus on the melody, however butchered it may be from years of singing shanties with pirates. If you listen carefully, imagining what it should sound like, you think it may be a lullaby.
The more you listen, the more aware of your body you become. Your skin is warm where he rubs up and down your back. His other hand is gloveless, though you don’t know when he removed it. It tangles softly in your hair, scratching gently at your scalp, sending tingles that mix with your trembling body to form goosebumps along your arms.
His chest rumbles as he hums. You’re pressed close enough to feel it vibrate through you, too. When the song pauses and he inhales, you feel it, too. You can hear it by your ear, the sharp intake of breath.
You remember the sight of him dangling by the neck. You couldn’t tear your eyes away when they waited for him to die.
But he’s not dead now.
You bring a hand around to rest on his chest. He pauses briefly, head shifting as he tries to see what you’re doing, but he doesn’t completely stop. His skin isn’t cold as death, it’s just cool. Underneath, you can feel the powerful beating of his heart. Its steady rhythm is persistent.
Your tears slow, until the leftover drops stick to your eyelashes. Your body stops shaking with the force of your despair. His hand slows to a stop on your back, melody petering off to welcome the silence of the dungeon once more. He kisses your temple.
“Are you alright?” he whispers hesitantly.
Are you?
You take a deep breath. The lingering smell of coffee and the sea greets you.
You nod slightly. Your voice is crackly and raspy as you speak, fragile. “I think so.”
He lets you pull away when you’re ready. You can’t stand the thought of leaving too wide of a gap, though. So your hand remains on his chest, over his heart. There’s a kind understanding in his eye as he covers it with his own.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you back then,” he apologizes. “You needed me and I wasn’t there. I failed you.”
You shake your head, cutting him off. “You’re here for me now.” You muster up a weak smile. “That’s what matters.”
His shoulders sag a little with relief. He lets go of your hand to cup your cheek, wiping away the drying tears with his thumb, before drawing you forward and kissing your forehead once more. It’s easy to close your eyes and sink into the affection. Knowing how close you have both been to dying for good, it feels precious. It is precious.
But it’s all too soon when he pulls away, brows taught with seriousness. Too many questions are left unanswered. Too many things hinge on Lucio not coming back. For as much as you want nothing more than to linger in stolen moments forever, it will have to wait.
You won’t let this plague come back.
You can’t.