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Sebastian leans his head back in the corner, his eyes shamefully tear stained and his body trembling, his knees tucked into his chest.
He sets the bottle of whiskey he had been holding in his left hand to rest on the wooden floorboards with a clank, causing a harsh enough sound to cause him to flinch at his own actions.
He grasps at his coat pocket, his right hand steady as his arm trembled, a slight reminder to the fact that the hand attached on his right wrist was not his. His fingers finally locating the pack of cigarettes hidden within, curling around them and pulling them out from the fabric of his coat, still resolutely draped over his shoulders.
He fumbles around for his lighter, strewn somewhere among the empty bottles of whiskey on the floor, his left hand trembling a tad bit too much to be of any use, yet still using the limb to push the lighter closer and closer to himself, before using his right hand, as steady and unmoving as ever, to flick open the lid of the lighter, staring at the small orange flame dancing before his eyes.
He inhaled and exhales, once, twice, three times, his left hand struggling to hold the cigarette upright and against his lips before he brought the flame to the tip, lighting the cigarette.
He stared into the small orange ember, lost in thought. Suddenly, his brain conjured up the image of yet another orange flame after another, bigger and brighter than the first, until it finally came to rest upon one.
Moran’s eyes widened as the image from his past surfaced to the forefront of his mind, and he immediately flicked the lighter closed, throwing it back onto the floor, the metal skitting against the wooden floorboards back to its original spot, hiding itself in the half finished and empty whiskey bottles littered on the floor.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he curls the fingers of his shaking left hand around the cigarette and takes a deep drag from it, already used to it. Inhaling the smoke, his expression relaxes, more weary than anything, his eyelids shut in a less forced way.
He tries to shut down the thoughts in his head, threatening to surface all over again after he had just successfully suppressed them mere minutes ago.
He keeps smoking for a few more seconds, trying his best to not spend the next hour crying again, his face clearly tear stained enough from his previous episode.
Removing the cigarette from his lips with his gloved right hand, he picks up the whiskey bottle by the neck again, bringing it up to his lips, resting his elbow against his left knee to steady his still trembling arm, his left leg still tucked firmly against his chest while his right leg was already stretched out.
He takes another swig of the alcohol, momentarily irked by the steadfast tolerance he’d built up over his many years of careless drinking. He was practically an alcoholic at this point, but sometimes he didn’t drink for the taste. Like now, he desperately wanted and needed to get drunk, yet with the amount of liquor he had it would not be possible.
He sets down the empty glass bottle after having drained it of his contents, still flinching when the glass loudly clinks against the wooden floor as his arm harshly brings it down. He continues smoking for a few minutes, in a futile attempt to calm the racing thoughts in his mind, threatening to send him over the depths of despair yet again.
He had barricaded the door, not wanting anyone else to see him in such a state of instability. He was supposed to be the strong one, yet here he was, plagued by the thoughts of his past and the people he used to know, most regretfully buried six feet deep.
He had to be the strong one, he had to be the one always helping others, he could not afford to lose himself, yet he had already done so. He found it so hard to be vulnerable, because to him that meant being weak, and he hated that feeling. He would rather be the independent and self-sacrificing one just like the rest of them, preferring to keep his struggles and worries to himself and himself only even if it meant his mental state was deteriorating and he was dying inside.
He hugs his knees closer to his chest as the thoughts start consuming him once again.
What if you never tried to save Randy, and he never stepped out, was never thrown into the forefront of the explosion, never disintegrated into mere ashes?
What if you’d been more cautious, found the traitor earlier before he could lead them all into their impending doom and demise?
You never found the traitor till he arrogantly showed his face to you at the party. You never realised it was Darryl all along. You wouldn’t have if he had not been so reckless with the truth of his existence.
How foolish of you, to not suspect anything out of the ordinary. You were trained to be perceptive and aware of any and all, yet you failed to capture one crucial piece of information, which led to the unjustified downfall of all of your comrades.
They died, because you failed. You failed at the one thing you should’ve easily been able to do.
You led them all to death.
You killed them.
YOU KILLED THEM.
His left hand pulled the cigarette away from his lips, as he buried his face into his knees, trying his absolute best to halt the tears that threatened to spill yet again.
He did not deserve to cry. He was the only one not killed that day, the only one who deserved to bear the responsibility for the death of his troop, his comrades. What kind of Major was he, when he couldn’t even save one troop from dying?
The Colonel ranking was undeserved. He’d failed to protect his comrades and save them all, yet after death he’d been rewarded with an honorary double rank promotion? Sure, they may not have known that he was alive and well, or rather as well as he could have been after that terrifying ordeal, but he felt as if he didn’t deserve it regardless of whether he did indeed lose his life on the battlefield that day or not.
Why did he have to be graced with such high honours when he, as a leader failed to keep everyone he was supposed to be leading, safe? Everytime someone called him Colonel, it felt like a stab in the chest. To think people were still so accepting of him even after he was pronounced deceased to the masses…
He leaned his head back against the wall once again, sighing in frustration and anguish as the thoughts plagued him. At least the hallucinations weren’t there, that was a small silver lining. Still, everything felt so real. The visions, the thoughts, the voices, all telling him one thing.
Sebastian Moran does not deserve to live on in peace.
And he wholeheartedly agreed with this worldview the visions and voices brought across.
His eyes wandered to the open window on the wall perpendicular to him, the moonlight streaming in and shining a rectangular lighting onto the floorboards. It was nighttime, and probably every late into it, considering the only noise he could hear was his shaky breaths and sobs.
Pushing himself off the wall, he staggers to his feet, leaning heavily against the wall, the cigarette still between his teeth, still continuing to rely on the dopamine it gave him as he drags his feet across the floorboards.
For that moment, he couldn’t control his body, his legs moving instinctively, his mind too foggy to completely comprehend exactly where he was going at all.
He continues to stagger seemingly aimlessly, his brain simply refusing to come to terms with just where his body was taking him.
Finally, he stops at a doorway, the hand not holding the cigarette turning the doorknob and opening the door, stepping in.
His vision finally focuses amidst the blur, looking up and focusing on the figure in front of him, whose back is facing his line of vision.
However, once his vision clears, he finally recognises the man in front of him, even if only his back was visible. That posture, and that vigour the man was working with, could only belong to one man.
He takes a step back, his back hitting the door in his shock. Unfortunately, Von Herder hears the noise of Sebastian hitting the door and turns around.
“Moran? Is that you?” The blonde man turned around, his head turned to the exact spot where Sebastian was standing, apparently staring at him, despite the obvious fact that he was blind.
Moran kept silent, still processing what he had unconsciously did. He’d just walked into Herder’s room, and to his dismay, the man was very much awake and active, in his hands a metal ring puzzle he seemed to have been solving.
“Moran? Are you there?” Herder questioned again, despite the obvious answer being yes, and the even more obvious answer being most certainly, the man was still there, simply stunned to the point of silence.
And Herder definitely knew it, even if his sight may have been completely nonexistent, Sebastian knew that the blonde man knew that he was still present, yet silent.
“Moran? Why are you here again?” Herder asks again, a hint of annoyance in his tone of voice, setting down the ring puzzle and crossing his arms over his chest, and leaning against the side of the table, his patience seemingly thinning as Moran continued to retain his silence.
“Yeah, Herder?” Sebastian says, trying his best to get his voice to sound normal and steady, even when it still sounded incredibly shaky when he finally decided to speak up and acknowledge his own presence in the room.
“Is everything okay? You practically reek of alcohol and cigarettes.” Herder comments, the corners of his mouth turning upwards ever so slightly, faintly smiling.
Sebastian doesn’t respond, his body continuing to tremble, apparently still shaken from his previous episode. He collapses back against the wall, his body sliding downwards till he hits the floor, and sits down, covering his face with his hands despite knowing that Herder wouldn’t even be able to see his expression or the state he was in.
“Something’s not right, are you alright?” Herder continues to question, a hint of concern starting to seep into his voice after every word, as Moran continues to remain unresponsive.
The blonde man kneels down beside the soldier, and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” he asks again, the question very obviously coming from concern over the man who had just collapsed to the floor.
“I-I’m fine.” Sebastian answers, internally cursing for letting his voice come out more unsteady than he wished it to be. He’d been caught in a really terrible position, he’d just wandered aimlessly and somehow ended up in Herder’s room, and now the man was hovering over him, concerned as he rightfully should be.
Truth is, Herder was right to be concerned, although he would never admit it, he was falling apart mentally at that very moment, his internal struggles slowly but surely catching up to him.
“You don’t seem very fine to me.” Herder answers, his voice firm and calm, continuing to place his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder in an attempt at a comforting gesture, and to Sebastian’s dismay, it was indeed comforting.
“It’s just… been a very long day, and there’s a lot of other things… nothing else to worry about.” Sebastian tried his best to reassure the concerned inventor that he was indeed alright, but the noticeably weak tone of voice did not help his case at all.
“Are you certain there’s nothing to worry about?” Herder asks again, and Sebastian takes a shaky sigh, and buries his face into his hands again, leaning forward into a protective position, as Herder moved his hand to his back and started petting him comfortingly.
“…No.” Sebastian was at this point too distraught to even lie anymore, too mentally and physically scarred and exhausted to keep his secret hidden away any further.
“Do you want to tell me anything?”
Sebastian inhales shakily, still berating himself from falling apart and crumbling in front of someone he most certainly dreaded opening up to. “It’s… just the usual stuff… I guess. The visions, the voices, nothing new. The alcohol isn’t working anymore…”
“You drink like an alcoholic, the amount of alcohol you’re allowed is most certainly not going to be enough.” Herder remarks, though his voice more sympathetic if anything. Sebastian hated opening up and he especially hated when someone decided to worry about him, the one who was supposed to be strong and tenacious.
But for some reason, he didn’t actually despise this. He didn’t actually hate the idea of confessing everything to Herder, even if he usually didn’t trust the man and even enjoyed getting on his nerves, the concern he was now expressing towards him… was actually comforting.
“It’s just… it’s all my fault… I could’ve saved them had I known… hell, I could’ve saved myself from this had I not been so foolish…” Sebastian bitterly mutters, knowing that even if his voice was that soft, Herder’s heightened sense of hearing would still be able to catch his every word clearly. His eyes start to fill again with fresh tears that he forces to not spill, trying his best to restrain his inner struggles.
Herder’s hand continues to run down his back, the repetitive motion surprisingly offering Sebastian momentary relief as he inhaled and exhaled shakily, trying to calm himself down.
“Nothing is one single person’s fault. Don’t blame yourself.” Herder’s voice remains firm and understanding, his worldview neutral as he tried to reassure the other man.
“I guess you could say it like that… but when it all adds up, it’s ultimately all my fault… I should’ve been more careful… I just can’t get it out of my head now… they all died due to my recklessness… I should’ve known that there was a traitor among us… there’s no one to blame but me…” He continues to ramble, his words as self-deprecating as ever, trying his best to justify that he didn’t deserve any sympathy or compassion.
“Look at me.” Herder commands, and Sebastian slowly lifts his head up from his hands, his tear ducts filled with fresh tears that he shamefully tried to wipe away, as he slowly stared up at the blind man.
“You can’t keep blaming yourself for everything. It’s not good for you. You need to let go of it, even if it’s hard. I can’t hope to possibly change your stance on the fact that you caused the situation plaguing your mind. But I still want you to try to move on, whether or not it was ultimately your fault or someone else’s.”
He props himself up against the wall, slowly standing up despite the protest from his shaking legs and stands up straight, despite his right hand still firm against the wall, supporting his body.
Sebastian knew deep down that Herder was aware that his words had hit a sensitive spot, and not in a negative way either. He could feel his walls slowly being torn down, his usually stoic demeanour crumbling in mere seconds after the blind man’s declaration.
“You shouldn’t keep burdening yourself. even if you think that you deserve all of this, all of this pain and suffering, I don’t. I believe that regardless of whether or not you were indeed guilty, you should not blame yourself for anything. It’s definitely hurting you more than you think it is.”
The moment he hears Herder’s words, no threat or mocking behind them, the tears flow freely down his cheeks, unable to be contained any further. He suddenly pulls the inventor towards him, and wraps his arms around him, burying his face into the crook of Herder’s shoulder and hugs him tightly, the blind man’s suit soaking up the tears that continued to fall.
Herder tensed up for a split second, stunned by Moran’s unexpected action, but eventually relaxed, his hands wrapping around Sebastian’s body and rests his hands on his back, petting him gently as he trembles in his arms.
Sebastian is painfully aware that Herder now knows of his moments of weakness, having completely broken down in the span of minutes under his gaze, yet he could not find the will in him to pull himself together, not when Herder was being so… understanding.
He continues to sob and cry into Herder’s shoulder, no longer caring about whether or not the man saw him in a different light afterwards, he just missed this sense of comfort, this feeling of safety that he now felt with the blind man he was tightly hugging.
Herder continued to comfort him, petting his back soothingly and whispering words of comfort to him. He bites his bottom lip, his arms gripping tighter around the slim waist of the blonde man, pulling him closer towards his body, their chests touching.
He has to force himself to not let out a whimper, his senses completely overwhelmed by the sudden relief that he was being offered by a man who usually got mad at him for breaking his inventions.
They stay like this for a few minutes as Sebastian continues to cry it all out, Herder’s hands still on the soldier’s back, as they stand there, Sebastian weak and vulnerable, and Herder completely neutral and not judgemental towards the fragile state that the other man was in.
Sebastian finally pulled away when there was no longer any tears left to cry, his breathing slowing to normal, his voice no longer shaky. “Thank you… for this.” He utters a quick statement of gratitude, genuinely grateful for the comfort that Herder had provided.
Herder simply smiles in response, the corners of his mouth curling upwards. Sebastian is surprised for a second, but eventually smiles back, despite knowing that Herder would not be able to see it.
“Thanks for not… being weirded out when I was like that… you know…” Sebastian embarrassingly admits, as Herder chuckles slightly, clearly amused by Sebastian’s humiliation.
“Everyone has their weak moments.” Herder simply says, petting the other man’s shoulder, before bringing his face closer to his. “That was just yours.”
Sebastian ceases his opportunity and leans in closer, his hand reaching under Herder’s chin and tilting it upwards to capture his lips in his own.
Herder doesn’t even seem surprised by it, and leans into him, kissing him back with as much eagerness as him, pressing their lips together.
Sebastian finally pulls away, but Herder pulls him back into another kiss, playfully nipping at his lower lip, biting it slightly. Sebastian response immediately, moving the tip of his tongue over the blonde man’s bottom lip, as if asking for permission to enter his own.
Herder complies and the kiss deepens, Sebastian’s tongue slipping into Herder’s mouth, pressing their bodies and lips together, his tongue running over Herder’s own, as if tasting him.
Herder finally pulls away, breathless and panting, his face slightly flushed from the kiss. Sebastian and him both have grins on their faces, formed from excitement.
“That was… good.” Herder comments, still panting slightly from the previous lack of oxygen, his cheeks still slightly red from the kiss.
“Yeah.” Sebastian doesn’t even hesitate, agreeing instantly. He surprisingly didn’t mind kissing that man, even with how much they annoyed each other usually.
Both of them didn’t question the suddenness of it, and continued standing there in silence, admiring the other, smiles on their faces.
—— The next day
Moran and Moneypenny walked into the workshop the next day, witnessing Herder still diligently working on the weapon.
“Oi, Herder!” Sebastian calls out, stepping into the room with the same smug smile on his face, back to normal after yesterday’s events.
“Hello, Q. How is everything coming along?” Moneypenny asks, ignoring Sebastian’s attitude and focusing on the blind inventor instead.
“Oh, just in time, I was just finishing up!” Herder exclaims, brandishing the new pistol he was working on.
“Nice gun. Done yet?” Sebastian comments, his eyes scanning over the gun that Herder had in his hands.
“It’s done. But if you dare break it again-“
“So it’s for me eh?” Sebastian smirks, leaning against the table, propping his face up with his arm and staring up at the blonde, his tone arrogant and slightly mocking.
“What?! O-of course it is, who else is going to need a new gun every week?” Herder exclaims, slightly aggravated by his accusation, gritting his teeth a little.
Moneypenny audibly sighs as she watches the two of them bicker continuously. She, unlike Moran, was here for a purpose.
“Q, I will need you to sign these forms for the new imports you requested.” She finally speaks up after a while, irritated by Sebastian.
“Ah yes, give me a second.” Herder walks over, and accepts the forms from Moneypenny. Running his fingers over the paper, he finds the signature space and signs it.
“Good.” She simply says after he is done signing the forms, not wanting to have to keep listening to Sebastian and Herder’s petty argument, after having listened to quite a few of them.
Taking a deep breath, she turns on her heels, walking out the door, beckoning for Moran to come along with her.
Moran snatches the pistol from Herder’s already outstretched hand, and kisses him lightly.
“Mhmph-“ The sound of his surprise is soon muffled by another peck on his lips, before he sighs softly and lets Moran kiss him.
“I’ll give you another one if you don’t get mad at me when I break this one~” Sebastian playfully says, turning on his heels and chasing after the woman.
“Hey you can’t just- ugh…” Herder grumbles, not exactly annoyed, blushing ever so slightly, his cheeks tinted pink, as he pouts.
“At least he’s back to normal…” Herder mumbles under his breath, replaying last night’s events in his mind.
Moran turns around and winks at the blind man, teasing him in a way he’d never know. He was grateful for the comfort that he’d provided last night, even if his arrival had been quite sudden.
But either way, he knows that they’re probably going to end up like this again eventually, him stumbling into Herder’s room out of familiarity during one of his episodes.
Still, he was looking forward to that one last kiss he was going to get right after he broke that pistol.
And deep down, he knew Herder was looking forward to it too.