Chapter Text
Once upon a time a little boy told his mother about his dreams. She ruffled his hair and told him he sounded Fae-touched. She told him tales of a place just next to and hidden from our own, where it was always dusk and dawn, and where the rules were strange but absolute, and the inhabitants stranger. Tom listened, fascinated, as she read him stories of pixies and witches, elves and hags, Titania and Oberon. How in some cultures dreams were considered as real as waking life, that a mirror of yourself lived there. As he grew he read more about different folklore, and told his mom about his dreams when they were especially vibrant.
“You saw your friend again?”
“Yes! We played toy ships and raced around!”
“What do you like most about him?”
“His laugh! He's always laughing, we have the best time, mummy!”
Once he was older and the dreams should have stopped and didn't, his mother told him he had a vivid imagination and should get into writing. He did try to as a young adult, but life has a strange way of steering people. Because one day he met the boy from the dream world, and that boy didn't recognize him at all.
Tom knew he was dreaming cause the details were fuzzy and he couldn't remember how he got there. But it didn't matter when he was finally pressed up tight against Luke, groaning as they moved together far too slowly for his liking. He pleaded and chanted his yeses and Luke only smiled and kissed his forehead, continuing to grind against him at that maddening pace.
It was only when he felt Luke pause he glanced back up to see a look of confusion cross the other man's face.
“Please, I'm so close,” Tom whispered as one does in dreams, regular talking seeming strange in the mouth.
He felt Luke's body shudder and press against him harder and faster. Finally. They wound and melted into each other, pushing and straining, Tom woke with a gasp, Luke's shout echoing in his mind. He grimaced at the tacky feeling against his sticky body. He cleaned up and went about his morning.
He glanced at his friend, keeping his expression bland. Luke's eyes caught his, widened and then jumped away. Odd, he thought. But then paid it no more mind. There was work to do. He had long since felt jittery or guilty around the other man after his dreams. He had resigned himself to this being his own burden, watching from afar, never asking for more. But too often he'd ache to return home, to curl into his bed, and go back to a place where they could be together. His refuge, his purgatory. He often cursed this “gift”, his being able to remember the other side.
Tonight it was mundane as a dream could be. He could tell he was dreaming because the grocery aisles had no ceiling and the milky way lit their meandering path. Luke smiled sweetly at him as he passed a box down from a high shelf. Tom pulled him close and pressed a kiss to his head and they moved on. Groceries forgotten they sat on a grassy hill overlooking the water, tall masts and white sails on great ships in the bay. Moon and Sun overhead and water splashing in a marble fountain in a nearby square. Tom laced their hands together and sighed, watching the stars twinkle overhead. He frowned when Luke pulled his hand back, staring down at where they used to be on the ground.
“Where are we?” the blond asked, gaping at the scene.
“On holiday,” Tom said as night and day warred for territory in the sky. He stood and held out a hand to help Luke up.
“Come on, love, we're going to be late.”
“Late for what?”
“The baking festival,” Tom said. He had long learned a few rules to keep dreams from collapsing. Don't ask why, keep it moving, keep it simple. His dream-Luke usually didn't question it.
Their bare feet felt the cobblestones in the town center, little wooden stalls filled with blurry people and warped treats. Tom popped one in his mouth and reached for another. The vendor haggled with Luke about price. He had the wrong currency, or not enough, or it was fruit now, or actually those are free samples. Tom shrugged and kept walking, Luke stared at his wallet confounded.
“What was that?” Luke asked, pulling on Tom's arm.
“Here, try one. They're good,” Tom held the small treat in front of Luke's face, expecting to feed it to him.
“Tom, where are we?” Luke asked again, Tom took the opportunity to shove the pastry into his mouth.
“Mmff!”
“The beach, mind the sand.”
The waves slowly lapped the shoreline and out in the bay nighttime was winning her battle. The dusk's rosy colors painted sails pink as Tom linked his arm with Luke.
“How do we get home?” Luke said, pulling his arm free, trying to stop Tom's gait.
“We are home,” Tom said, the waves starting to grow louder and higher.
Splintered deckwood washed up and Tom could feel the water grow grey and stormy.
“You're right, we should leave,” he agreed, “Let's warm up.”
He stepped out of the tub, grabbing an enormous towel and dried off. The broken ships in the bath circling the drain. He passed a towel to Luke and walked into a big cozy den with a roaring fireplace, and sat nearby it. The embers popped and sizzled, he watched as the firelight turned Luke's hair to amber gold and sighed.
“So beautiful,” he said wistfully, patting the space next to him on the rug.
“Tom, I think something wrong is happening,” Luke said in growing panic. The dark wooden walls warbled, pictures of the two of them crashed to the floor.
“Come here, beloved,” Tom pleaded, “Stay with me until the end.” He knew this world was fraying, but he would dig in by his nails if it meant one more minute here.
Luke furrowed his brow, but sat next to him at last. Tom sighed and threw his arm around the other man's shoulder, pressing their heads together. The room's edges began to buzz and grey and Tom stared into Luke's eyes, the warm honey tones looking back up at him.
“See you soon."
Tom could feel the hairs on his neck prickle, someone was staring at him. He sighed morosely, unsure what he'd done to garner Luke's scrutiny. The blond had been, unsuccessfully, sneaking glances at him all day and Tom was feeling sour. He went about his business, checking the cameras, cards and batteries. He overheard Luke and Sam chatting as they inspected props.
“Been having real strange dreams lately.”
“Dont have dairy before bed.”
“Your kid isn't old enough for you to fall back on dad-humor. It's been weird, I don't get it.”
“How weird?”
“Ugh you know you can't explain a dream in a way that makes sense. The only way I can put it is that it doesn't feel like they're mine. It feels like I'm… visiting,”
Luke snuck another glance at Tom. Tom pointedly ignored it and fiddled with a mic stand. The two went back to talking in more hushed tones and Tom tried not to let that sting. At least dream-Luke talked to him, told him anything and everything. It would have to be good enough.
Tom walked up the block to the diner on the corner. Ah this one, he thought as he beelined for a booth by the windows. The bustle of city life dulled and the clink of mugs and plates filled the air. Luke was already seated at their favorite table, menu in hand, waving at him.
“There you are! The new seasonals are out,” Luke said, smiling and handing it over. The words danced and jittered before Tom quickly placed it down. He reached over and pulled a hand up to kiss, sighing as the corners of Luke's eyes crinkled.
“This place is great,” he said, knowing that if you went around city hall, and shortcut through the dorms, you could get there before the breakfast rush. Hopefully he didn't misplace his class schedule again. But he did need to use the editing suite, so his ID badge should still work.
Wait, he graduated years ago.
They both walked up the winding street, behind the rock formation with the waterfall, down past the gathering of tourists. Luke chatted and swung their held hands without a care. Tall glass buildings, small apartment blocks, and natural formations crowded past. Again the sky was ablaze, night’s fingers wresting day from the heavens.
“I don't want to go back to the dorms,” Tom complained, watching the river come up to a dam. A wooden shanty town sat atop it like rickety teeth, it's raucous music sang it's siren song.
Luke had been strangely quiet the last few blocks, staring around wide eyed and then back at their entwined hands.
“Come dance with me, angel! Can't you hear it?”
He pulled Luke across rope bridges and through connected rooms into a bar and hall. He swung him close and breathed into his hair. Luke glanced around the wine stained floor, strangely empty after all the vendors they passed.
“Tom, where are we?”
“Once you leave the city you can go across the bay or up the river. The river has the dam towns and the barges. One of them has a casino! I'll take you there. I'll take you anywhere, my heart.”
Tom swayed to the music, Luke moving stiffly in his arms.
“The highway through the mountains where the apple orchards grow and the power lines are as tall as giants. Anywhere, anything, you need just to ask.”
“This doesn't make sense, Tom!”
“Well… It Is easy to get lost, but that's part of the fun.”
A barge blew it's foghorn nearby like an omen.
“What are we, Tom?”
Tom chuckled, silly man.
“We’re everything. Partners, lovers, there's no word strong enough. We're bound together.”
Tom cupped his face reverently, looking deep into honey warm eyes. “I'm yours. And by some miracle you're mine.”
He watched as Luke stammered and pushed him back. His image flickered out for a moment, Tom knew to look away. When he turned back his Luke had returned.
Tom hung back as the four of them walked on. He glanced down at Luke, the darkness under his eyes standing out in the hard streetlight.
“You okay? You look exhausted,” he asked, non-chalantly.
Luke looked at him, puzzled.
“I haven't been sleeping well lately. I keep feeling like I'm missing something. Like I forgot something important. It's weird.”
Tom hummed and looked ahead, not wanting the guilt in his eyes to show. Their bond was a strange thing, and while Tom could endure the change in places, he had never met anyone else with the same “gift”. Not even his ‘oldest friend’.
He had once considered moving away, hoping to keep the bond on the other side as is, and Luke could have his waking life. But fate had clearly drawn them together. He had made his oath, he would keep it.
How long would it take to play it's hand, he didn't know. But until he knew he'd have to endure both sides of the man.
“There you are, they've put a new exhibit out in the statue gardens!”
Luke pulled on Tom's arm and they exited the house. The large overgrown tree wrapped its roots around the door like a hobbit hole, and Tom smiled as he locked it behind him. This was one of his favorite places. They walked down the street and saw the sparkling fairy lights on the arch of the hedge maze that was the public statue garden. Inside different statues were displayed on rotation and they were always a thrill. Geodesic colors and soft soothing natural greens mixed as they walked the stones that marked the path. Metal plaques stood next to each display proudly announcing the artists intent. Tom waved to his neighbors as the two of them walked from piece to piece, weaving between trees hung with bottles and lights.
“Isn't it marvelous?” Tom turned and beamed at Luke.
Luke looked around, “It's amazing!” He looked down to see his arm linked with Tom's, then back up at his face.
“Is it always like this?”
“The museum and the city put on something very special here. Usually it's just the flowers and trees until the next exhibit comes out.” Tom said, guiding him towards the exit arch.
“I don't mean that, it's always… exceptional here,” Luke said, gesturing with his other hand.
Tom led them back past their home towards the top of the hill. There they could see children laughing and playing in the park green as city lights twinkled duskward. The wind blew gently.
“Dada Dada!! Uppies!”
Tom looked down at the golden haired girl, about two, with bright eyes and gap toothed grin. His heart swelled and he reached for her.
“Up little buttercup!” he swung her in the air and she giggled and shrieked in glee. He placed her on his shoulders, and she gripped her little hands in his hair. One hand braced on her leg he reached the other one down, expecting the grasp of another small hand. A serious faced five year old boy with a mop of brown hair held on as they walked along the airport.
“Come on, Arthur, let's find Papa.”
The boy nodded and walked beside him.
“Pop pop!” agreed little Eleanor.
They walked past newspaper kiosks and vending machines towards their gate, Tom with his hands and heart so full. Only one more piece of the puzzle and he was sure it would burst.
They found Luke standing by the gate, looking around confused.
“Papa papa!” Eleanor yelled and wiggled, Tom grabbed both her legs to steady her. Tom walked up to Luke and bent down carefully, “Take Ellie, would you?”
The little girl made grabby hands at him and Luke lifted her off of Tom's shoulders, placing her on the ground. She hugged his leg tightly, then ran around the waiting area chairs. He watched her antics, absolutely stunned. There were kids?
“Arthur, please keep an eye on your sister, yeah? Dad and Pop are going to sit right here.”
“Okay, dad,” the boy said, running off to grab Eleanor’s hand and take her to the windows to show her the airplanes.
Tom stretched and groaned before sitting down with a sigh. Luke stared at the kids, before turning to look at Tom.
“Papa??” he said, incredulous.
“We agreed to the names years ago, dear, sit down,” Tom said warmly, patting the seat next to him.
Luke sat down in a daze, eyes still locked on the two.
“There are kids. You want kids.”
“We wanted a family. They're growing so fast. They're perfect, just like their pop,” Tom leaned over and kissed Luke's head, fluffy hair tickling his nose. He sighed and sunk into his chair, right here right now his life was perfect.
When he glanced up again they were seated in their row, mid flight. Ellie curled up asleep, head on Luke's lap. Arthur leaned against his arm, dozed off. Tom carefully reached his hand to Luke's, trying not to wake them.
Luke's eyes shot up to his, wide. “Tom, how?”
Tom murmured to not wake the kids, “Well when a daddy and a papa love each other very much…”
“Tom!” Luke hissed, in no mood.
“They're ours,” Tom said, truth ringing out like he had said the sky was blue.
“I can't give you…”
The plane dipped and shuddered with turbulence. The kids whimpered and tucked themselves closer.
“They're ours, Angel. Our gifts, our little ones,” he clutched Luke's hand, resolute.
Luke watched, shocked as the plane leveled out and the calm hum of the engines soothed the children back to sleep.
Tom scrolled through his phone, corners of his mouth pulled down. Each time he did this it felt more like a chore. The motes of hope that maybe this time, this time, Luke would remember something; were getting dimmer. But after a lengthy shouting match with a sulky teenage Arthur he promised to continue trying. It was easier than trying to explain that bringing himself to do this hurt like a torn open scab.
Checking his notes again, he sent his text.
The V&A is having a new statue exhibit, do you want to check it out when you get here next?
Tom placed the phone down, trying not to just stare and desperately wait for the response.
Sorry, already made plans. Maybe next time?
-Luke
Tom sighed heavily. Didn't ring a bell, huh.
Sure, no worries.
He went back to his work.
“Why do you never say my name here?” Luke asked, knowing he was onto something.
Luke watched as Tom cringed and glanced around before facing him. Tom had said that the rules kept this world in place. Names had power, but Tom never said his. He showered him with affection, pet names strewn about like petals.
“Because I knew your soul before I knew your name,” Tom stepped forward, halting when he saw Luke step back.
“Don't do this, love,” he said, eyes trained forward, but Luke could see the shake of his hands and the strain in him. “Please, stay with me a while.”
“How come I can say yours?” Luke pushed.
Tom sighed heavy. The rules were there for a reason.
“Because this place is mine, it's my pocket. Everything here is from me.”
“Tom I'm tired of riddles and rules, why do I keep coming here? What is going on?”
Tom looked away, hands clenching. That was twice now.
“If I tell you it might all collapse and I might not get him back.”
“Who?”
“My Luke, the one who lives here,” Tom whispered, eyes shut tight.
The air grew dense and warbled at the edges.
“You shouldn't be here. You belong out there. Give mine back to me,” Tom begged, tears welling at the corners of his eyes.
Luke wasn't sure who Tom was asking.
“Your Luke?” The ground groaned and the sky grew dark.
“Stop it! Just give him back, I'll find a way to keep you out. You'll forget, It's easy, it slips away once you get back! I'm the only one who remembers!”
“Tom, I'm remembering these too.”
Tom clutched at his chest.
“You're lying, maybe something stays but not everything. It doesn't matter!”
Tom walked past him, yelling up into the blackened clouds, “Give him back!! I swore an oath to him! You promised me!”
“Tom!”
Tom turned and glared daggers at him, “Get out.”
The earth shook and groaned.
“GET OUT!”
Luke woke with a gasp.
The dream was slipping away, it was important. Something… Something was important.
Luke was staying over at the flat this week. Those days were harder for Tom, forcing himself to casual chats, his betrothed sitting at the table unknowingly.
"Have you ever thought about having kids?”
Tom froze, then turned slowly to look at Luke. The other man was watching him intently. He forced his posture to go loose again and shrugged.
“Sometimes, hasn't everyone? Why? You feeling broody like Sam?”
Luke kept his eyes locked on him.
“Never thought of it before. I think you'd make a great dad. I can almost see them on you.”
Tom swallowed hard, “Them? How many kids do you see me having?”
What is going on? Tom panicked internally.
Luke tapped his fingers on the tabletop and said decisively, “Two. A boy and a girl.”
Tom ground his teeth and blinked away his tears quickly.
“Ha in this flat? That's crazy,” he just managed, voice shaky.
“I know their names,” Luke said, standing taking a step towards him.
Tom stepped back, raising a hand, “Luke what are you doing? Stop.”
“Arthur and Ellie. Who are they Tom? Why do I remember them?”
Tom reeled back like he'd been slapped. “Don't you ever talk about them,” he seethed. His heart was breaking, tears streaming down his face.
“Oh my god. You know something! I knew it, what's going on?!” Luke accused, pointing a finger at him.
“You never remembered before!” Tom clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide.
“Before?! How long has this been going on?” Luke took another step forward.
Tom shook his head no and pressed his back up against the wall.
“Why do you care?!” Tom asked desperately.
“Because it's not real! Because you'd rather be there than here!”
Tom wanted to howl and tear out his hair.
“They're REAL!” Tom screamed, how could Luke know and say that?
“That place, the kids, what we have, it's as real as here,” Tom said between gasps.
Luke took a step back, scanning his face, hands dropping.
"You believe that,” he said in disbelief.
“I know it,” Tom croaked out, the heels of his hands pressed into his eyes.
“What do you mean ‘what we have’, what have you done to me?”
“Nothing! Nothing we didn't both agree to!”
“How long have you been “playing house” with me over there? Were you ever going to tell me? What kind of sick mind game is this?!”
Tom clutched his chest and moaned a wounded sound.
“No games, not playing,” he whispered, throat locked up tight.
“I'm done with your excuses. I'm leaving. I swear to God if I see you “over there” I'm going to feed you your lying teeth. Got it?”
Tom slid down the wall, sitting in a curled up ball. He nodded unseeing. He heard the door slam.
Tom sat on the stone bench, eyes trained down. A pair of shoes came into view and a hand rested on his shoulder, “Dad?” came a soft voice.
“Hi Ellie,” Tom said softly.
“How long are you going to sit here?”
“Until he comes back to me.”
Eleanor sat next to him, fully grown into adulthood, blond waves framing her sorrowful face.
“Dad, he's not coming back. Not the way you remember. He's out there now,” she gestured at the clouds floating by peacefully.
“That one doesn't care about us. He didn't watch you and Art grow up,” Tom looked down at his hands, weathered and wrinkled. Then smooth and young again. He sighed.
“We don't have to grow here, Dad. Time doesn't work that way. But it's going to run out, out there. If you can help him remember, maybe he'll come back.”
“He hates me out there. He thinks I've trapped him in something strange.” Tom leaned his head onto her shoulder.
“Dad, how did you and Pop fall in love?”
“I told you, darling, we met as kids and had so many adventures together. We did everything together and it grew between us. It just happened, we were inevitable.”
“Maybe now you have to work for it.”
“Ellie! Are you calling your father lazy?”
“If the shoe fits.”
“Good thing I don't like to wear shoes.”
“Lazy.”
“And what does Art think?”
“He's angry at you. He thinks you drove Pop away.”
“He's kind of right. I don't know how to get him back.”
She glanced up at the clouds as the sun burst out from behind them. Tom watched as her hair glittered and glowed, the rays touching her like a crown.
“Go to him where he has power. Finish your oath.”
"Go dawnward to his pocket? But I won't remember anything I've done there.”
Eleanor shook her head, and sighed. The sun dipped back behind the clouds again.
“I know the rules. But, the one out there? He'll remember you tried.”
Tom stared at her, wondering when she got so wise.
“Do you think you and your brother are out there too?” he whispered, trembling.
“I hope so. But even if we're just here, I'm so happy to have met you Dada.”
Tom pulled her into a tight hug and wept. These dreams were the hardest ones of all.
“So, you're finally going after him,” Arthur said coldly. Tom pulled his pack over his shoulder and looked at the perpetual sunset.
“Yes. I'm sorry it took so long, son.”
“Good. You should be.”
Tom nodded, then stepped determined out the door.
Arthur pulled on his sleeve, Tom watched as stars shown in his son's eyes as he seemed to be looking far into the distance.
"Go to the Dusk, ask of her a boon."
"Art?" Tom shook his shoulders.
He blinked and stared at Tom, confused.
"Why are you still here, get going!"
Arthur called after him, “Bring him home! Remember the rules! Keep moving!”
“Keep moving, don't ask questions, keep it simple.” Tom said, resolute.
He walks towards the sunset to seek an audience with the Dusk. He keeps his eyes on the horizon, thoughts clear. The land under his feet changes between steps, the stars wheel overhead. The air grows chill as he climbs the steps to the Temple
Duskmother Aeluna cannot speak like a person. Her High Priestess interprets for her. She sounds like wind in the trees, the buzz of fireflies, the crunch of leaves. Her form is filled with stars, her eyes moonlit onyx.
Tom pleads for a boon, he needs his husband to remember their lives together. If Luke could just remember it would all make sense. The Duskmother plucks a star from her form and pulls a silver thread.
The High Priestess explains,
“The Handfasting is just that, an engagement. You must now follow through and tie you and your mate in permanence. Find him, complete the oath. Only then will your union be recognized by all in the unwaking.”
Tom takes the thread from the Duskmother’s hands and bows his head. Thanking her he turns dawnward with his heart pounding.
Winding paths through moonlit valleys turn to gold as he pushes through fields of tall grasses and lush orchards. Rivers flow and meet towards the rising dawn.
He trains his thoughts on Luke, on the life they built, on what he's going to save. The mists rising from the rivers grow thicker, the air warmer and alive with the sounds of insects and animals. Dawnward was always a more vibrant place. Soon the fog obscures his vision and Tom steps carefully as marshy footing gives way to sunbleached driftwood and sand. Looking up he sees a massive coastline, piers jutting into the water, the lights and sounds of a boardwalk buzzing joyfully in the distance. He follows the sand paths through the salt toughened scrub and brush. Out on a pier stood a lone figure staring out at the sea, hair glinting gold in the sunlight.
Luke turned and smiled and waved at him, walking casually towards him. Tom's feet hit the wooden boards of the pier and quickly, jogging up to the other man.
“Hi hon, look, the rides are open! Let's get going before the lines get long.”
Tom halted at this, not expecting the warm welcome after their last chat. Scanning the others face he saw none of the careful way Luke would hold himself, the calm composure when they met. This was more carefree, unhindered, this was his Luke that he had always known in the unwaking.
“Luke, I need to talk to you. But not just you…”
Luke cut in, “Oh you're here for him? He doesn't want to talk to you, you know.”
Tom slouched in on himself a little, “I know he doesn't want to. But it's important. I think I know how to fix this.”
Luke sighed.
“Tom there's no fixing this. Deep inside you know that. What we have, here in this place? It's a dream. The most beautiful dream, but that's all. Come on now, don't you want to ride the ferris wheel?”
Tom stared wide eyed, “You don't mean that. You can't mean that!”
Luke reached up and cupped his face, thumb wiping away the tear that fell free.
“What we have is just like the sand castles below. Temporary, ephemeral. And in the end meaningless.”
“No!” Tom whispered raggedy. “No no no it means everything. Why are you saying this?”
Luke stood back, arms crossed, furious.
“Fine. Destroy it then. That's what you're really here for. You're gonna talk to him, make him remember right? It'll all collapse.”
Luke stepped forward, shoulders hunched, hands balled into fists.
“Youre not in your pocket! When this comes down it'll take you with it! You'll unlink and no one will remember anything! Including you.”
Tom clasped his boon tightly in his hand.
“You don't know that! No one knows what's going to happen. He may remember he may not. But I have to try! Luke… I’m scared too. I’m terrified! But I can't live without him… without you.”
Luke hung his head.
“What about the kids. What if he doesn't want them?”
Tom stepped forward, tucking Luke into his arms. Luke pressed his face into his chest, hands curled into Tom's shirt.
“What if we lose everything?” he whispered.
Tom pressed a kiss to his head.
“We’re going to if we don't try.”
He gently pulled Luke out from his chest, hands locked at arms length.
“Lets do this properly this time, eh?”
He gave a watery smile, “Consider it a renewing of our vows.”
Luke gave him a crooked smile and nodded. He looked dawnward and said,
“We’re ready.”
Dawnfather Helios sounds of shifting wheat, a babbling brook, creaking branches. He is warm rosy colors and morning mists, his face obscured, his crown rays of light. The Dawnfather breaks a piece of the rays and crumples it to powder, passing it to Tom.
His Herald steps forward to explain,
“This will lift the veil to your betrothed. Complete your oath. Only then will your union be recognized by all in the unwaking.”
Tom swallows hard and nods. He holds aloft the powder and pulls the silver thread from his pocket. He turns to see the Duskmother behind him, “We're ready.”
The High Priestless takes the thread from him and begins to bind their held hands. From one loose end she reaches into Tom's chest and pulls a heartstrings, tying them together. Tom shudders as her hands pass through his form as easily as water. She reaches for Luke's and ties the other loose end to him. Tom watches as his eyebrows furrow, lips pulled into a tight line.
“It's going to be okay, love, you just have to believe,” Tom says, squeezing their bound hands.
“Its that simple, huh?”
For the first time in a while Tom smiles genuinely, heart lighter.
“Its in the rules.”
Luke chuckles and squeezes back.
“Okay.”
The Herald whispers to Tom, Tom takes a deep breath and he throws the powder into the air above Luke. It gently covers the other man in specks of gold, oranges, reds.
Luke holds his breath and body as still as he can, eyes shut tight. Then he gasps, eyes darting around. They bounce between the behemoth titans before landing on Tom and their tangled hands, tracing the silver to their hearts.
"What did you do? I told you not to come here,” he says, glaring.
“Please let me explain,” Tom says, rubbing his thumb against Luke's.
Luke stares up at the deities, their champions, and all the small crowd beginning to form around them.
“You always had a flare for the dramatic. Fine. Explain.”
“You said you've been remembering, recently? I've always remembered, it's my gift. From them,” he gestured up and around.
“Luke, you've known me since Uni, I've known you all of my life. I've loved you for most of it.”
Tom felt as two small figures pressed in close to his sides. He sighed and glanced down, Arthur and Eleanor hiding behind his legs, large eyes peeking up at them.
"I know how you take your coffee, I know which seat you like in the taxi, I know your favorite snacks and I know your favorite dreams. I know the Rollercoaster parks, the Mountain hikes, the beaches in Spain and how it feels to swoop through the air with you. I know how scared you are right now because you told me. You trust me. I'm asking you to please trust me one more time.”
“This is a lot, Tom. This is crazy.”
“The course of true love never did run smooth,” Tom smiled, stepping closer.
“Clever.”
"Seemed apropos.”
Luke sighed deep, shaking his head at himself before locking eyes back onto him.
“Tell me what happens next.”
“I finish my oath to you, and then you remember.” his heart raced and mouth went dry. This had to work.
“That simple, huh?”
Tom smiled bright, "It's in the rules.”
The High Priestess stepped behind Tom, placing a hand on the center of his back. The Herald came and did the same for Luke. Arthur went to Luke and tugged at his freehand, big eyes staring up pleading.
“Art…” Tom began, but Luke waved at him to stop.
“It's fine, right kiddo?”
Arthur nodded and grabbed his hand.
Ellie smiled a big toothy grin at Luke and held onto Tom's freehand.
Tom felt as that strange watery feeling pressed into him again and as he opened his mouth not words came pouring out, but the stuff of dreams. Places and people whirled by, all their past laid bare before them, all his hopes made manifest taking flight like a flock of birds, fears lurking at the edges with blacked teeth and gaping maws. But most of all out poured love; boundless, tender, embarrassing and unfiltered. Love for Luke in all his forms, waking and unwaking, perfect imperfections, assets and idiosyncrasies.
Luke stared in shock as he watched the two of them run amok as little scamps through woods, troublesome teens snickering as they played their pranks, young adults tangled together laughing and gasping. Now grown into contentment and sorrow, despair and hope, all of life's many shades. He shuddered as he felt the Herald press into his back and say,
“Do you accept this soul to be bound to yours?”
Luke flew awake and rushed to grab his phone, shaking hands going through his favorite contacts. Clutching tight he called.
“Tom? Tom??”
“Luke?” came a tired but hopeful answer
“Tom oh my god, it, you, I - I can remember,” Luke said shivering.
There was a heavy pause,
“How much??”
“All of it,” Luke breathed.