Work Text:
Henley and Ghoul sat quietly on the floor in the waiting room, next to each other. Ghoul had stopped crying long ago, and sat watching Henley fiddle with Gluebrick’s old pocket jam. For the first time in a long time Ghoul felt he could be at peace… If he tried really hard, that is. But no, his mind kept relapsing back to everything that had happened and how everything had gone so terribly wrong. Watching Gluebrick die, Eric letting them go, and now he sat next to Henley, who had not spoken a word in what felt like hours.
Ghoul thought back to before the stupid eighth layer, when they were playing in the snow and he was rolling his eyes at one of Eric’s long, drawn out monologues, then laughing at Henley’s death grip on Gluebrick’s back as they ricocheted down a hill. It all felt so long ago, but he knew in his heart it had only been a few terrible days since then. His gaze traveled back over to Henley, the man’s expression blank as he stared down at the pocket jam. He churned his mind back to when they had left the eight layer, what Henley had said. “C’mon buddy, everything’s fine.” He had whispered as he put the jam in his pocket. Ghoul didn’t think he intended for anyone to hear, but Ghoul had caught it, and it made him think. Henley always assumed the attitude that everything was absolutely fine- and his mind certainly reflected that. But it was only in times of desperation or absolute panic had Ghoul heard him say the words exactly. Still, it made sense.
Henley had always shown an extra level of… concern, when it came to Gluebrick. Ghoul thought all the way back to layer three, as one of the earliest examples. Henley panicking and begging Gluebrick not to sacrifice himself hurt then, but now especially in hindsight. Those little moments of connection between the two were subtle but oh so present. Layer Six was where it started to get noticiable though, at least to Ghoul. Being alone with Henley after Gluebrick had been captured was an experience, safe to say. Henley had gotten snappish, panicking far easier than he would usually- and that said a lot. Ghoul remembered how Henley calmed ever so slightly when they got Gluebrick down from that flagpole, tension releasing from his shoulders. It had reminded him of the way Eric relaxed when he talked to Thundun back on layer three. That was about Wheb Ghoul picked up on what he liked to call: It.
‘It’ became obvious fairly quickly after that. Ghoul started to re-contextualise all the times he’d seen Henley pull Gluebrick and only Gluebrick aside, all the times he’d noticed their tails wrapping around each other or their hands brushing, so much more, and of course including some of their… weirder moments. Even their bickering at Hellkea was shown to Ghoul in a new light. Then of course there was after he noticed ‘it’. Them dancing the tango to train for the ball, the two of them interrupting each other’s dances at said ball, the entire Ice Tyson debacle, the list went on. What the most egregious example of ‘it’ was happened recently just after he and Eric had gotten back from their mission. Ghoul had watched as Henley and Gluebrick flung themselves at enemies just to protect each other, his eyes drifted to their locked hands as they loaded onto the airship, and quite frankly wanted to throw up at that accidental insinuation that happened on said airship- no matter how much of a slip up. The point was that they sought comfort in each other, that when Henley was distraught he would drift towards Gluebrick and bury himself into him, that when Gluebrick was scared he would wrap his tail around Henley and turn to him and smile fondly.
That’s why it hurt so much now to see Henley stare silently at that jam. He knew he and Henley had gotten close, but Henley wasn’t about to turn to him and spill his guts out or gaze fondly at him like he just hung the moon and stars. Ghoul lowered his gaze to the jam, watching Henley rub his thumb up and down it, a soft but broken expression rested on his face. “Everything’s gonna’ be fine” Henley had said, but gods, Ghoul hasn’t seen Henley look so un-fine since his own mind.
“Henley?” Ghoul’s voice was barely above a whisper, but Henley heard him just fine. The man let out a small grunt of acknowledgment, not tearing his eyes off the jam. “Did you love him?” The words slip out of him without a second thought, because Ghoul Hildy Ghoul is nothing if not brutally honest. Ghoul watches as Henley just freezes. His eyes go wide and his thumb on the pocket jam stills. His shoulders tensed and Ghoul would believe you if you said his breathing had stopped. He had seen Henley startle, yelp, but rarely just… freeze. Henley slowly turned to face him, his shocked expression unchanged. He choked out a strangled “What?” Ghoul’s response is automatic. “Did you love him?”
The icy tension around Henley seemed to suddenly thaw at rapid pace, and is replaced by a flailing desperation. “I- well of course I did, Ghoul! What kind of a stupid question is that? I- ah- I absolutely adored his adoration for my astounding humility! This was in the eulogy, Ghoul! Of course I,” Henley’s voice cracked, “I loved him. Just- just as much as you all did.” Silence stretched out between them and Ghoul levelled him with an unimpressed look. “Dissapointed, but honestly not surprised.” And the Campestri jumped and slapped Henley Whispers across the face.
Henley yelped as the infernal curse surged through him and he shuffled backwards, hand clutching the pocket jam near his heart. He stuttered out his baffled response “What the hell, Ghoul! What in Celestia was that for?”
“For you lying to me, asshole!”
“What-“ He swallows. “What are you even talking about?”
“Be honest to me about Gluebrick, Henley!” Henley’s face distorts and- before Ghoul can get a good look at his expression- he turns away and stands up. “Henley, please!” Ghoul cries out, “Henley you were getting better! We went into your mind and- and well, it sucked. Not sorry. But you were healing! Especially after you and Gluebrick failed that-“ Henley snaps. “Ghoul!”
Now it’s Ghouls turn to freeze. He stares up tentatively at Henley. Henley’s chest heaved and his fists were clenched and shaking. The man turns around to face the Campestri, and Ghoul had to suppress an audible gasp at seeing tears pour down his cheeks. Henley takes a hollow, rattling breath and laughs. He laughs and Ghoul wants to cry again. “Alright Ghoul, you know what? Yes. Yes I will tell you about ‘Me and Gluebrick’ because- because we’re alone. It’s just the two of us and somebody ought to know, right?” Ghoul stares up at Henley feeling both shame for asking and rampant curiosity. Oh, the duality.
Ghoul watches Henley as he hastily wipes the tears at his eyes before telling Ghoul what they both already know, and Ghoul senses a deep reluctance in the man. But hey, at least he’s talking! “Okay Ghoul, yes. Yes I did ‘love’ Gluebrick Kindheart Bumbledung. He’s-“ A deranged laugh “He’s impossible not to love! No don’t give me that look, believe me, Ghoul, I tried goddamnit! I tried so hard to ignore the way he made he feel like I was- actually, really, truly- fine for the first time in years. Oh gods, you see how I just admitted it? That’s his fault. He did that. And- and I tried so hard to ignore how whenever he was hurt it caused such a horrible ache in my chest, and at the same time whenever he was okay it would make me feel stupid, uh,”
“…Butterflies?”
“Yes! Butterflies! That’s so hellishly dumb, isn’t it? Ghoul, when he smiled at me it felt like I’d watched the sun and stars get hung in the Sky and they spelled out ‘Henley’ or something. And when he’d laugh…” Henley trailed off, and stared up in silence for a second. “When I made him laugh it made me feel like I’d escaped hell a million times over.” His eyes remained glued to the ceiling above, before he blinked and his head snapped back to the mushroom below him. “And- and you know the craziest part, Ghoul?”
Ghoul doesn’t respond. He doesn’t know how. Never before had he seen Henley so wilfully open without Gluebrick there, and considering he never would be again, Ghoul needed to savour this. The silence doesn’t stop Henley, though, who wipes his eyes again as continues. “When I had a wife, Ghoul, when I had Sylvie… whenever I felt upset or sad or stupid or, well, not-fine I would just run off into the forest. I would run away to the forest and cry there and tell the trees and the beetles whatever had screwed me over that day. I loved that forest, it was very special to me. And I loved my wife, too. She was… very special to me.” Ghoul resists the urge to openly question that second one. “But I always thought my wife and the forest had to be separated, you know what I mean? I couldn’t use Sylvie as my forest, she would hate me. Think I was being needy or weak. Like my father. Hell, I thought everyone would! Then- then I met Gluebrick.” He spoke his name softly, and Ghoul was almost taken aback by the yearning and the pain and the affection haunting his voice as he breathed it out. “Gluebrick, he- he did this stupid thing where he managed to be my forest. I could talk to him, hug him, cry to him and he wouldn’t mind. And he made me feel… safe. Safe is the word. Safe like I was in the forest again. And then he managed to also-” Henley choked himself off with a sob. “To also love me. Like there was nothing wrong with needing some dumbass forest.”
Ghoul looked on helplessly as he saw Henley sink, body shivering, to the ground. He looked on as the man curled up into himself, hiding his teary eyes in his knees. There was a pang in Ghoul’s chest knowing he couldn’t reach out to touch him, to deliver some semblance of comfort. So the two of them sat there. All Ghoul heard were the footsteps of imps and fiends, and the sound of Henley’s raspy breathing and ugly sobs. After what felt like Millenia, Ghoul finally musters the courage to speak. “So were you in love-“ Henley cut him off, and his words are pleading and broken, “Please Ghoul, are you such an idiot I have to say it?” And Ghoul clamps his mouth shut and shakes his head. The silence returns again, and it somehow stretches on longer now, only interrupted by the faint sounds of court preparation and Henley’s continuous crying.
It’s ages from then Henley finally rises, wiping his eyes and trying to relax his puffed face. He inhales shakily as he runs a hand through his already tousled hair. “Do you want to know the worst part of it all, Ghoul?” Once again, no response. Ghoul’s too scared to hear what will be said if he answers ‘Yes’. A manic, heartbroken laugh burst from Henley. “I’ll have you know, the worst part, Ghoul, is that you figured ‘it’ out before I did. Way before, apparently.” That last sentance is hushed and mournful, and Ghoul almost recoils at the regret laced in his voice. “And I… well I never got to tell him.” That’s when Ghoul’s eyes finally snap wide, “Oh, Henley…” It’s quiet and it’s filled to the brim with pity. “Yes, well, he’s-“ and Henley’s voice breaks in two again, “He’s dead now. No use dwelling on it!” Ghoul’s eyes dart to where the pocket jam is pressed against his chest. He hears the blonde heave a shallow breath. “Everything’s fine.” And Ghoul watches, tears welling up in his eyes, as Henley walks out the room.