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Stood there, marred in the bone and sinew of one he had cared for above all else, Tiberius took in the man that sired him and felt he was at long last seeing true form, beneath all pomp and title, as if tears clouding vision had finally removed veal long since having tainted his vision.
Here was a man called father despite never having shown paternal kindness nor affection; deemed husband yet provided nothing beyond coin while expending husbandly attentions elsewhere; hailed as the richest man in Rome though so much of it had been procured through ill-gotten means and never honest work, hard fought and well earned; promoted to Imperator — and that, at least, was distinction held true.
Stood there, blood dripping down face, injured side aching with wound not deep enough to rip him from wretched existence, Tiberius found he held no care for such service for himself, that there was no status, no pride to be found in it, beyond pleasing those whims that of his father.
Stood there, gore tasting of ash in his mouth, he found that man lacking.
Tiberius had thought that if there was anything beyond bestowing mercy, that he might find himself a future in taking Sabinus' life. There was no future to be found with Marcus Licinius Crassus, not as there had been with Sabinus. There were no aspirations high enough to ever dull pain that would linger within very soul, even after the wounds of his flesh long since healed.
He had died alongside Sabinus, soul leaving still-beating heart behind as Sabinus’ had departed a stopped one.
Tiberius turned and started walking from their encampment.
For once there was no disappointment felt as father expressed no remorse at son’s desertion.
Time ceased to have meaning as Tiberius walked. He walked until feet felt nothing beyond sensation of walking, pain long past and forgotten, and continued to walk until sensation too passed. He no longer breathed, blinked, nor slept; he walked.
He walked until he met encountered a lake and it is there that he collapsed, gentle waves lapping up the shore to take tears staining cheeks into their fold, water to water, salt to salt.
Many a summer of their youth had been spent wasting time in rivers and lakes and the sea, Sabinus loving water more than Neptune himself, and Tiberius unable to deny him anything. His mother cared not for such things, and let them venture out alone.
It was in the surf that they had shared first true kiss, not mere childish pressing of lips in hidden archways or beneath thick winter blankets long past hour of intended rest, but of men feeling the first blush of adulthood.
Sabinus' pronounced height had begun to make self known four seasons prior, enough time past that Tiberius lost his jealousy for such things. Everything that they had, they shared, and height was of no difference.
Tiberius had ridden on Sabinus' shoulders as they stepped into the sea, laughing, as even the strength of waves could not wrench him from Sabinus' shoulders, nor Sabinus' grip on his thighs. When Sabinus had tired of carrying him so, Tiberius had allowed himself to drop into the water, swiftly retrieved and pulled back onto feet by his most dearest of friends, though no such rescue had been necessary.
"Gratitude, my sweet Hylas," Tiberius had said, hand reaching to push back wet hair from such marvelous face, so that he might see most welcome of eyes glittering down at him, the stars of his most beloved constellation.
Sabinus had laughed.
"Such compliments indeed," Sabinus teased. "Though that would surely make you Hercules, affording much higher praises to yourself."
Feeling genuine horror, Tiberius hastened to correct mistake. "Then you are Apollo, brightest and most pure of all beacons in my life. I am but Icarus, forever wishing to be nearest to your warmth, no matter what perils should I face."
Their bodies had been so close then, waves lapping at their waists, water warm and clear, a mirror surrounding them. Sabinus had clasped both of Tiberius' hands between his own, bringing them rest to his chest. "Apologies, for I could not be Apollo in this instance. Do I not always catch you when you fall? Hands tightened grip. Myth would be rewritten, for not even the fates should force this Apollo to stand idly by as his Icarus faced peril."
Tiberius recalled how happy he had felt then, how he had climbed Sabinus and brought mouths together, open and joyous as lips met in passion. Before he had opportunity to wrap legs around Sabinus' waist, there had been hands supporting his thighs, taking weight with as much selflessness as Atlas. He had liked the idea that of being Sabinus' Heaven.
He could see now that Sabinus truly had been Atlas, that unwavering support and loyalty to Tiberius had brought eventual downfall. Tiberius was a curse, and Sabinus had backed the wrong side.
"It's not the same though, is it?" a voice asked. Tiberius hadn’t the strength to startle, too weary to mind that another had snuck up on him in such a state...if there had been anyone there at all. There was silence as he waited for voice to share words again, Tiberius wanting to know if his broken mind would be revealed at its source.
A man stepped into view, gorgeous beyond reason, view of his body marred not by any shred of clothing, looking as if he had been sculpted by Jupiter's own hand. "Atlas was a Titan punished; your friend a mortal slain, not banished but merely sent to where all mortals must go, in the end." He pointed at Tiberius with the caduceus held loose in left hand's grasp. "A fate that can be reversed."
Tiberius found strength and rose onto weakened knees. "Speak plain, demon," he said. Throat aching, voice sounded foreign to own ears, bubbling up tasting of blood belonging to Sabinus, though it had been so long since he had traveled from that place, from what was left of Sabinus, that it had to be his own metallic death that stained tongue.
All that he was belonged to Sabinus, as it always had. Perhaps it was fitting that their blood was indiscernible even to him.
"Every day, you are dying," the man walked circles around Tiberius as he spoke, one foot dragging behind him with each step, drawing shapes in the sand. "A little more, each day, rotting. Such a small distinction between life and death, so fleeting. You could say that there's no difference between one and the other; from one to the other. As easy as it is to go from living to dying, should the reverse not also hold true?"
He ceased motion and sat crossed-legged beside Tiberius' head, stroked fingers along Tiberius' brow. His other hand dug into sand and pulled from it a dagger, glistening and appearing to be made of sea glass, though there was something off about it. It seemed to be shrouded from view, amorphous. Tiberius found there was no angle at which he could look at it directly, forced to glance it out of the corner of his eye.
The hand at his head dragged down the side of his face to his mouth, pulling Tiberius' attention from the fell thing in his other hand, fingers coming to cradle jaw while thumb slipped into mouth and found rest on Tiberius' tongue.
Something happened within him at the touch. It was if he had drank all the world's water, cool and pure; eaten ambrosia from the dining halls of Mount Olympus itself, hearty and nourishing. His strength came rushing back to him. “All peril will come in attempt to return home," the man said. “Are you sure you care to take such risk?"
Tiberius bit at the thumb hard enough to draw blood, though none came.
The man smiled, pulled hand free of Tiberius' mouth.
The last thing Tiberius saw before the man shielded his eyes with one hand was the other outstretched above him, dagger aimed at his heart.
Stood there, Tiberius took in a world around him darker than anything he had encountered in life.
"It's been so long since I last had guests," Hades said. His voice sounded as if it came from all around Tiberius, everywhere and nowhere at once. "I see that my nephew believed you to be suitable entertainment."
Tiberius sneered. "I have come for my most dearest Sabinus, and will not leave until he has been restored to me."
"Such resolve!" He suddenly felt a hand drag through his hair as the darkness seemed to encroach on him tenfold, enveloping him into itself. "Is there not more desired within heart of hearts? You are here now, would you not wish to become a demigod, forever immortalized? I have no children; have you no interest in being my ward?"
There had been no wavering in his resolve. "Sabinus."
Hades sighed and the temperature of the darkness raised, though Tiberius found he could not sweat. As quickly as the increase occurred, it was gone again, lifeless chill returned. "I fear you share blood with that Orpheus, who visited me so long ago now." A finger dipped under his chin, turning Tiberius' head towards breath that fanned across his face, though eyes remained seeing only the blackest darkness. "Do you think perhaps that nephew of mine knew?"
"Tiberius?"
He whipped around and took in sight of Sabinus, illuminated by dim light that seemed emanating from his very core, perfect as he had always been, unbruised, unbroken. Tiberius could neither speak nor move, rooted in place as if Medusa herself had caught him in her gaze.
Sabinus ran to him, wrapped arms tight around middle and cradled Tiberius to his chest, as if Tiberius had been the one wretched from arms far too soon. "Why are you here?" Sabinus demanded. "What happened?"
"I've come to rescue you," Tiberius said, speaking into a chest that echoed no heartbeat, felt precious skin against skin in embrace feared never to occur again. Unable to hold himself back, Tiberius rose on pointed feet to kiss Sabinus with all that he had, wanting nothing more than to breathe life back into him based on sheer will alone.
Pulling back, he looked into the darkness around them and said, "What quest must I complete to take him back with me? I shall do whatever my lord commands. Name any task; I will rise to it."
"What tales have you heard of me, I wonder?" Hades' voice returned, yet within security of Sabinus' arms it seemed the farthest it had been since Tiberius' arrival. "You're free to go, of course. It should be a simple journey, for the road is straight and true.," Hades paused, and then all at once Tiberius could feel darkness form into something solid at his side, inches from his face. "Just make sure that avoid distraction, and take care not to look back. It’s so easy to lose someone down here, after all.”
Time ceased to have meaning as Tiberius walked, Sabinus' hand clasped tightly within his own. There was no pain there, only nothingness to be felt or seen. Tiberius had picked a direction and Sabinus had followed; they had been walking for such a long time, or so it felt.
"Will you not speak to me?" Tiberius begged. "I have missed you for so long."
"We must focus, dear heart." Sabinus said. "Lord Hades said we mustn't be distracted. I told you once that the gods could not wrest me from your arms. I fear I failed in keeping promise once, but I shall not fall prey again."
Tiberius stopped and began to turn around, but Sabinus, pressed close to his back, prevented him from doing so. He covered Tiberius' eyes with one hand, though it did hide the darkness still surrounding them, and wrapped the other around Tiberius' middle, hugging him from behind. "We are together now," Tiberius said. "I do not care if we are cursed to roam these halls forever, so long as we are together. I—"
Hades' warnings had been true, Tiberius realized.
He had failed at this task before they had made move to embark on it.
"Sabinus," he said. "You must lead us, now. I have long held desire to always be at your side, but now it is the sole drive remaining within my heart. If we are to be free of this place, it will have to be because you wish it so."
Sabinus pressed tender kiss to the side of his head and removed hand from covering sightless eyes to retake Tiberius', twining their fingers together.
"I will free us from this place," Sabinus promised. "For do I not always catch you when you fall?"