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“Vivian,” Victor whispers into the dark, huddled against the wall of the barn with the single blanket pulled up around his shoulders. It’s freezing, but it’s better than sleeping outside. “Are you awake?”
The reply comes immediately. Vivian’s eye shines almost painfully bright in the dark. “Yeah. I’m here.”
Victor probably didn’t need to ask; in the few years he’d known Vivian, he has never once seen him sleep. He isn’t sure Ghosts can sleep, but he remembers the long nights Vivian spent cradled in his hands or tucked into his neck or pressed into his chest and he thinks that’s a little like sleeping, in a way. But Vivian hasn’t done that in a while, now. Not since Kaz-
He sucks in a sharp breath. “Are you cold?”
“...I guess, yeah.”
Victor holds a hand out and, hesitant, Vivian floats down to rest in his palm. The metal is freezing against his skin but he huddles Vivian against his chest anyway. He stays quiet for a long moment.
Vivian breaks the silence. “Are you okay?”
“No.”
“...Less okay than usual?”
“I’m just cold.”
He feels Vivian twitch. “Do you want me to ask them for another blanket? I-”
“No,” he replies immediately. “They’re- They’re sleeping. We’ll be gone before the morning anyway.”
“…Okay.”
Another bout of silence. He isn’t sure how long they have before they have to leave. It always happens in the dark, before the sun has a chance to rise and the generous people who lend him shelter have a chance to speak to him.
Vivian has been his only consistent companion. He curls in on himself as another pang of guilt stabs through his chest.
“Vivian,” Victor starts again, “why are you here?”
“What do you mean? Where else would I be?”
He huffs. “You don’t have to be with me. You can go wherever you want now.”
“I- what?” Vivian tilts up to look at Victor. “I don’t want to be anywhere else. Why are you asking me this? Do you think I want to- to leave you?”
I’m not even yours, he wants to scream, to shake Vivian until he understands. You don’t have to pretend anymore. He’s gone. “Don’t you?” He says instead. “You were trapped in that town for so long. You must have somewhere you want to go.”
“...The Traveler,” Vivian says eventually. “I want to see it someday. But I can do that with you, Victor. You’re my Lightbearer.”
“Maybe,” Victor sighs.
Someday, Vivian will realize Victor isn’t his and hate him for it, but for now he seems intent on pretending everything is normal. As if anything about them is normal.
Victor died. He was never supposed to be rezzed. Neither of them have talked about it since Kaz (even now his thoughts flinch over the name, as if it’s sinking its teeth into his skin), but he knows Vivian regrets it. What Ghost would want him instead of their precious chosen? How long until Vivian becomes tired of him? Victor can’t forgive Vivian, but for some reason Vivian has forgiven him and-
“Victor.”
A pause. “Vivian.”
Vivian sighs. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m here as long as you need me. That’s- That’s what a Ghost is supposed to do, right?”
He suddenly doesn’t want to be having this conversation anymore. Suddenly, all he wants to do is sleep and not have to worry about what to do in the morning. He doesn’t say anything.
“Victor?”
“What?” He snaps. Vivian flinches. “What do you want me to say? I don’t believe you, alright? I don’t believe you.”
Victor lets go of Vivian, shifting away from him. His hands feel too empty, but he doesn’t want him to feel them shaking. Vivian just stares at him in that unblinking way that Ghosts do, unreadable and unmoving. Once, he thought he could predict what he was thinking. Now, it feels like a wall separates them.
“Victor,” Vivian says slowly, “do you want me to leave?”
He goes rigid, fists clenched so hard he leaves marks in his palms. “Would you? If I asked you to?”
It doesn’t answer the question; Victor isn’t sure he can answer the question. Vivian deserves better than him, despite everything. And yet, selfishly, Victor hopes he’ll say no.
“I- I don’t… If you really wanted me to…” Vivian shakes his shell. “I don’t think I could. I don’t know what I can say to make you believe me, but it’s true.”
“There’s nothing to say,” he spits before he can stop himself. “You had my trust and you shot it to pieces. Tell me why I should believe you.”
“...That’s not fair. He lied to both of us.”
“He didn’t kill you, did he?”
“I know, I should have told you sooner, but-”
“I don’t want another apology,” Victor sighs, the anger draining out of him as quickly as it had appeared. “Just… forget it. This is pointless.”
“...I’m sorry,” Vivian says anyway.
“I haven’t forgiven you.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you still here?”
“I told you,” Vivian says, voice steady, “you’re my Lightbearer. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Victor doesn’t reply. Vivian says nothing more. Eventually, Vivian decompiles, leaving him alone and colder than before. Victor pulls the blanket up again, curls up against the wall, and tries to sleep.
He pretends to not notice when, several minutes later, Vivian reappears to rest on his shoulder. He doesn’t move for the rest of the night.