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How did they get here?
An ambush, caught completely unaware by British forces, Washington's army had been forced to retreat from their now destroyed camp, left in ruins from bullets and cannon fire.
He could simultaneously feel every single part of his body, and none of it at the same time.
Every breath felt distant, every blink felt like someone else was blinking for him, every little shift he made felt like a million miles away.
There were still tears rolling down his face as he stared up at the sky. It was a bright blue, exactly like his eyes, the sun still warm and bright, as if mocking the bloodshed that'd just taken place. He couldn't tell who was dead or alive.
He could hardly tell if he was still alive. Idly, he started watching the few clouds in the sky as they passed by. A past time he had as a child. Something he used to do often, and this was likely the last time he'd ever do it.
He wasn't living, he'd figured that out when he felt more than two bullets pierce him in places they shouldn't have been at all. He could hardly move, let alone get up to try and get himself help, not to mention there were probably still redcoats lingering to ensure everyone was dead, dead. It was only a matter of time.
He was resigned to his fate, for whatever reason. It was why he was laying there on the ground, supine, and staring up at the sky.
He caught a brief glimpse of a cloud that looked like a tree, or maybe a dog, when he thought he heard something, blinking slowly and ignoring it, believing he was simply hearing things, before he heard it again.
“Dylan! Dylan!”
Basil. That was Basil. He coughed, the metallic tang of blood further settling on his tongue as he felt it expel from his lips before trickling down his chin, shifting to glance in the direction he'd heard Basil.
“Dylan! Oh God, l-look at me, hey, you're gonna— you're gonna be okay, okay? Keep looking at me, okay? Oh God..”
Basil dropped down right next to him, gently gathering Dylan into his arms and nearly recoiling seeing all the blood dampening his clothes and staining his face, gently patting Dylan's cheek to get him to look up at him, his concerned, destroyed expression crumbling further seeing the distant look in Dylan's once bright eyes, so far from the man he knew.
“...Basil.”
He could hardly recognize his own voice, weak and shaky, and yet he spoke up anyway, his tone still warm with the love and adoration for the other man, even after all this time. He smiled softly, sighing quietly as he leaned into Basil's arms, already tempted to close his eyes and let death finally take him, though the glassy look in the other's eyes made him think otherwise.
Basil tried to stem the bleeding on the worst of his injuries, using his coat and scraps he tore off from his own shirt to help, and while he wanted to protest, he didn't have the energy or heart to, knowing it would only make that terrified look on his face grow.
However, Basil seemed to quickly realize what Dylan had already accepted, tears running down his face as he pressed their foreheads together, still trying to stem the bleeding from a bullet wound in his side.
“God.. God, I'm so sorry, Dylan.. I'm so so— sorry… I should've— fuck, I should've kept you closer.. I should've kept in touch.. I should've done— something…”
Basil sobbed, tears running down his face and dripping onto Dylan's, his shoulders trembling as he cupped the back of his head, holding him closer as if he could stave off death if he held on tight enough.
“Don't.. be. You didn't do anything wrong.”
Dylan spoke up, still smiling even as his own tears mixed with Basil's, weakly lifting a hand to cup his cheek, trying to wipe away the tears dampening his face.
“God.. I love you— I love you, a-and I just— I let you go with her— a-and she did this— I'm so sorry..”
Basil sniffled, his expression crumbling further at the soft hand on his cheek, carefully holding onto it with one of his own as he kept sobbing, still cradling Dylan in his arms.
Dylan blinked slowly, tears running down his face quicker as he listened. It shouldn't have surprised him, with the way his wife had been acting, and how the sudden ambush happened soon after her odd behavior, but the thought of Athena working together with those men, who left behind so much blood shed, made it harder to breathe.
He tried to ignore it, his hand still resting on Basil's cheek as he spoke up again, his voice wavering even more.
“I love you too.. don't be sorry. This isn't your fault.”
It's mine.
How blind did he have to be, spending 23 years of marriage, only for the woman he loved who he believed loved him back to do something like this?
“..Can I kiss you?”
Basil froze, tears still rolling down his face as he tried to process what Dylan just said, his own tears still slipping down his cheeks as he tried to take in a breath, ignoring the way his heart hurt even more, knowing the man he loved was dying in his arms.
He nodded, sniffling before he leaned down and gently pressed their lips together, as if afraid being any more firm and he'd make Dylan shatter, holding back a sob as he felt Dylan lean into it, desperately wishing he could turn back time so he never let him go the way he had back when they were hardly adults.
When Dylan moved to New Jersey with the intention of starting a family, Basil thought he could move on, that their relationship was nothing more than one of the relationships you have as a teen you eventually forget about, but that was never the case. Whether it be a one night stand or a longer, slightly more committed relationship, it hadn't felt the same.
It wasn't the love he felt for Dylan. It was never the same as his sun, and yet, when he finally had him back, his sun had to start setting for the final time.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…”
He was more terrified than he'd ever been, tears streaming down his face like a waterfall as he held Dylan close, uncertain of when they'd pulled apart, but too scared of just how quickly he was losing him to care.
Dylan smiled softly, a quiet, and final,
“I love you..”
Before his eyes slid shut for the last time, going still in Basil's arms, the small smile still present on his face as tears kept rolling down his face, even as he stopped breathing and died.
“No— no, no, no no no no… God— I'm sorry—”
Basil cried, trying and failing to hold back his sobs as he felt Dylan go limp in his arms, cradling him even closer and holding onto him tighter as if he could shield him from death if he tried hard enough.
He loved Dylan, he always had, since they'd been children, and even despite the time they'd spent apart. And he would continue to love him, even though it hurt, even though he was no longer there to keep his days brighter.
His sun had set, and he was left alone, in the darkness.