Work Text:
I was wishing... we were two different people
Two people who need not say
Goodbye.
The grass felt itchy on Clancy’s skin. Like there were millions of tiny razorblades all poking at him, in search of crimson. He pondered getting up and going back to the base, but decided that the razorblades were kinder than the cold and unforgiving concrete of the hideout.
He was looking at the stars. So few were shining that night. Tiny holes poked in the black duvet covering the sky. He couldn’t tell if the feeling was comfort or unease. Like a child in a pillow fort, blankets and pillows piled up methodically to create a private haven, a secret world to escape to. Or, a vast emptiness. Swirling into everything and nothing at the same time, making everything feel so small and insignificant.
A distant thought crosses his mind.
Return to Dema.
There’s no hope here.
He pretends to not hear these thoughts, despite their increasing volume inside his head.
By the time the Torchbearer found him, the thoughts were screaming in his head. Drowning out any other thoughts that were battling to surface in his mind.
“Is this spot taken?” The Torchbearer gestures to the ground next to Clancy with a wave of his hand. He was wearing his usual bandana. His eyes were fixed on Clancy’s, his gaze almost suffocating.
Clancy shakes his head, and scoots over slightly, even though there would’ve been enough room on the grass had he not moved an inch.
The Torchbearer lays on the ground next to Clancy, laying his arms over his body, resembling a corpse in a casket. Clancy tried to push the image out of his head, not wanting to think of morbid subject matter any longer.
“What are you doing out here?” The Torchbearer questioned, not looking at Clancy. Instead, looking up at the vast sea of black above them.
“Just thinking,” Clancy says quietly and quickly, hoping that the Torchbearer would not ask of what he was thinking.
Of course, he asked anyway.
“Of?” He asked, his voice so clearly demonstrating his curiosity in the inner workings of Clancy's mind.
Clancy couldn’t bring himself to lie.
“Dema,” He swallowed.
The Torchbearer turned to look at him. His gaze softened.
“Why? You don’t want to go back, do you?” The Torchbearer asked, however, the tone in his voice indicated that he already knew the answer to this question.
“No!” Clancy assured, too quickly. “No, of course not. I would never...” He trailed off. “I wouldn’t dream of returning to that place, I’m just-”
“Scared?” The Torchbearer finished, his eyes crinkling. He was smiling beneath his bandana.
Clancy faltered, surprised at the accuracy of the Torchbearer.
“Y-yeah, I guess,” Clancy turned away from the Torchbearer, his gaze giving him an odd feeling in his stomach.
The Torchbearer moved his hand and placed it upon Clancy’s left shoulder.
“Don’t be, Clancy,” Clancy couldn’t help but return to the Torchbearer’s eyes. He felt the odd feeling in his stomach once again.
“Why did you,” He struggled, “Why did you save me? You and the Banditos? You all could’ve just left me to die but you...” He trailed off again, a pattern he couldn’t quite explain.
The Torchbearer let out a small laugh, the sound raising the hair on Clancy’s arms. The sound was smooth, like velvet or satin. Invigorating and exciting like a shot of espresso. Warm like a cider during winter. Clancy felt the apples of his cheeks tingle.
“We could see your potential, Clancy,” He felt his cheeks tingle again, “I could see you were special. You will be the one to bring us to the end of this battle.”
Clancy said nothing. He couldn’t begin to formulate anything to say. Instead, he smiled back at the Torchbearer, welcoming the feeling of importance and worthiness that he brought along with him.
They returned to the view above, and remained in silence for the rest of their time together that night.
Before Clancy knew it, he was waking up in his cold, concrete room in the shelter.
⊬
At night, more often than not, Clancy would find himself on his bed of razors. And, more often than not, The Torchbearer would accompany him.
It became a sort of tradition for them. A way to feel connected to each other, and to something larger than themselves. To the universe.
Sometimes, they would lay in silence. Looking up at the blanket above them, laced with stars of white string.
Other times, they wouldn’t look up, but instead, at each other. They would engage in conversation. About Dema, the bishops, death, the battle. But also, anything else they could ever imagine.
Clancy very much began to value his time with the Torchbearer, looking forward to spending their hours together, tangled up in a new conversation. Following and chasing trains of thought for hours upon hours.
He had never smiled more than when he was with the Torchbearer.
⊬
Tonight, there were more stars than usual.
Tonight, the silence that hung in the air was thicker than normal. Heavy, even. Clancy felt almost as if the weight was building a pressure within his chest.
The Torchbearer wasn’t wearing his bandana tonight, a sight unseen by Clancy. Clancy preferred it to his normally veiled look, it seemed to make him look more human.
The heavy silence was broken by a small gasp from the Torchbearer.
“Look, a shooting star, make a wish,” he pointed to the sky, and smiled at Clancy.
Clancy’s eyes followed the star as it glittered across the void, shining so bright against the hopeless black that prevailed. Once its trail had finally dissipated, Clancy closed his eyes tight and made a wish.
When he had finished, he looked over at the Torchbearer, finding that he was already looking at Clancy.
His cheeks burned.
“What did you wish for, Clancy?” The soft smile on the Torchbearers face was mesmerizing, his soft, curious gaze hypnotizing. Addicting, almost.
To never lose you.
He thought.
To never have to say goodbye.
He prayed for a sense of normalcy in this life. He would’ve given anything to live another life.
Another life that surely wouldn’t end in such a tragedy as this one.
One where he and the Torchbearer could be happy. Where they could live a normal life. A long life full of happiness. A life together.
Where they could spend their time on park benches, hand-in-hand in the cool, fall breeze.
Where they could spend their nights sleeping in a soft bed together, falling asleep to their favorite TV shows.
To laugh with him. To cry with him. To wake up every morning drenched in his scent. To feel his arms around him every night as they fall asleep. To hold him. To kiss him.
He longed so, so dearly for the Torchbearer, and for the life they could never have.
To love each other, and never have to say goodbye.
Clancy swallowed.
“I-I can’t say,” He mumbled, “It won’t come true if I tell you,” He said, clinging on to these old sayings as an excuse to not reveal his soul to the Torchbearer.
The Torchbearer laughed, the clear sound ringing in Clancy’s mind, filling up every corner of his head, clouding his thoughts and fogging up his mind. Clancy chased the feeling like a drug.
“That’s silly, I’ll tell you what I wished if you tell me,” The Torchbearer smiled. Clancy felt weak, the Torchbearer’s grin being the crack in Clancy’s stone wall he had built.
“I wished,” Clancy started, and he stopped. He was brave enough to fight Dema, but not strong enough to tell the Torchbearer his true wish. Not strong enough to lose him.
“I wished that we would win the battle,” He managed to choke out.
The Torchbearer looked skeptical, seeming to see through Clancy’s obvious lie, but he nodded anyway.
“That’s a good one,” He stated, then smirked, “Not better than mine though.”
“Well, if your wish was so good, then what did you wish for?” Clancy’s interest was piqued. He felt a sense of urgency, as if he were in dire need to hear what the Torchbearer had so dearly wanted.
“I wished to become a star,” The Torchbearer was looking up at the shining canvas above him, the lights reflecting in his eyes.
He looked so beautiful in the moonlight.
“What?” Clancy questioned, “How was that better than mine?”
The Torchbearer wore a solemn smile.
“The stars in the sky, they shine so brilliantly. But those same stars we’re seeing right now have died billions of years ago, Clancy.” The Torchbearer looked over at him. Clancy felt his breath catch. “I’m hoping that, when I eventually pass, I shine as bright as these stars. I want to be remembered as someone who did something. Someone who made a difference. Someone who fought hard, and had it pay off. I want to be remembered by someone,” He had a wistful look in his eyes. “I want to be a star in your sky, Clancy.”
Tears threatened at Clancy’s eyes. He felt the sting behind his eyes and the lump form in his throat.
“I want to be your star too,” Clancy whispered, a tremble present in his voice.
He slowly guided his pinky to grasp on to the Torchbearer’s, and quickly averted his eyes to hide the tears that threatened to fall.
“Clancy,” The Torchbearer began, taking Clancy’s hand fully into his.
His other hand made its way to Clancy’s face, guiding his eyes back to the Torchbearer.
Clancy’s face was so, so close to the Torchbearer’s, he could almost taste his breath on his lips. His beauty was overwhelming. Empowering. Invigorating. Intoxicating.
“You already are.”
⊬