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Daniel felt the weight on his body, a beast grappling at his throat. Armand held him down, and snarled.
“Don’t play with me.” His voice betrayed the hurt, the same smearing of emotions running across his face as before, back when Daniel had upturned their lives. “You are dying, this is not the time for jokes.”
“Armand,” Daniel said, his voice weaker than he wanted it to be. There was no room here to waver. “I mean it. I don’t want the gift.”
The vampire stared down at him, clearly startled, as if refusal had not been a consideration. His amber eyes had widened, like a cornered animal. Only two options, to flee or to attack. The room was quiet, save for the groan. Wind pressing up against the tower like God trying to break through. Like God knew it was time to take Daniel home. Away from Armand forever.
“Daniel,” his voice was quiet, the facade broken. Despite it all, everything that had happened over the past month, this was what broke Armand. “You have wanted the gift, begged me for it, for decades. I’m offering it to you now, and you refuse me?”
“You’re conflating yourself with the gift,” Daniel could not help pointing out. The instinct to rupture false language, the recoding of meaning, it was still there. And Armand seemed to rile, hackles raised against this indignity.
“I am the gift, there is no conflating,” his mouth was thin, sharp teeth still visible behind the venom. “You refuse the gift, you are refusing me.”
Daniel coughed, his body was hurt. His chest didn’t seem to want to rise like it used to. The thrum of his heart seemed to be softening, beat to beat. It wasn’t hours anymore, it was minutes.
“I know that I wanted it. I did. More than anything. But that was a different person,” he reached up to grip at Armand’s shoulders. “When you let me go, that part of me went away, too. I was unstable back then. I loved you, and that was a big part of it, but...” His voice trailed off.
Fat, red tears splattered his face, leaving little droplets on his glasses. Daniel reached to wipe them from Armand’s cheeks, his thumb shaking. The vampire pressed forward, just to feel the brush of the hands against his skin.
“I can’t lose you. I have nothing left,” Armand’s voice cracked. “You are the only one who ever chose to be with me. That I didn’t have to ask, to beg to love me.” But he knew the answer wouldn’t change. His boy was set in his ways, and their years apart had atrophied the muscle that was built to cradle the beast that walked among men.
Daniel brushed his hand down Armand’s jaw, his eyes scanning his lover’s face. “I’m sorry. I want to say yes to you, I always want to say yes to you,” and now his voice began to crack. So much for staying strong. “But I can’t do this for you. I am a fundamentally different person than I was. When those memories went away, the trajectory of my life changed. And sure, maybe I always felt something was missing...”
Armand leaned forward, then. His face pressed into Daniel’s neck, but he did not bite. The only warmth was the wet of his tears.
“I should have turned you,” he wept, hands grasping to hold onto something that was slipping through his fingers. “You can’t leave me now. I’ll have nothing left to tether me to this world.”
Daniel carded his fingers through the vampire’s hair, his mouth instinctively curling upwards at the corners. He loved this thing. And he had loved him before, with enough strength to send himself into the corner of the world that seemed untouched by light or goodness. He had been to hell for the devil above him. He could not go again.
“Armand,” his voice was trembling now, threatening to turn to tears. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could do this. I can’t see my daughters die. The world has done a number on me, but I had a wonderful life. And you gave that to me. I wouldn’t have survived if you hadn’t let me go.”
“You could survive with me now,” the devil sobbed. But he knew Daniel had decided. It was no longer of use to argue. He would not waste their last moments together like this.
Armand carried Daniel, then, to the balcony that overlooked Dubai. He was too weak to walk there himself. Above them the vaults of heaven turned from black into the hazy colors of dawn, sun threatening to peak from behind the skyline. And the wind had died down. God realized his son would be returned, that he need not fight for his soul any longer.
“We will lie here, and I will keep the pain at bay,” and he placed Daniel down, gently cradling him in his arms. The stars were going out, one at a time. The boy nodded, his head seeming to lul to one side, as if a great sleep were about to overcome him.
“I don’t regret it,” Daniel whispered, his voice melting into the hot air. “And some part of me knew you, when I came back here.” He could feel the gentle touch of Armand at the back of his mind, where his cold breath hit his neck, as if he was murmuring the scenes into his head. Behind his eyes he saw them in Pompeii, looking up at the sky, just as they did now. “I’m glad you are here with me. It needed to be you.”
“Beloved” Armand’s voice muffled by hair, cracking into another sob. “I would have flown the world around to find you at the end.”
Daniel nodded, but his movements were weak, slow. He looked up at Armand, grabbing for his face. There was so much love in that one touch. Then Daniel smiled and closed his eyes.
When he was sure that all movement had gone from Daniel’s body, he pulled him close and pressed a kiss to his temple. The sun was finally beginning to rise over the skyscrapers, and the air was still.
Armand looked up, staring at the sky. His cheeks were stained pink from the tears, almost alive.
And he dipped low and drank from Daniel, pulling the death out of his neck and into his own body. He found himself swimming in the memories, powerful waves of devotion running through his body until the blackness overtook him.
There was not a soul left in the penthouse, dead or undead. It was quiet.