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Dreams plague him once again. Nightmares, really.
The press of hands holding him down. Old and new. His body fluctuates between a child’s and an adult. The hands switch between cold, unfamiliar hands and those he once thought of as friends and colleagues.
People that he’d once trusted forcing him down. Magic flowing over him, through him. Into him.
He is violated again and again with the intrusions. A surgeon's hands turn into a witch's hands. He cannot tell what is memory and what is dream anymore. Watching his own eye being removed blurs with the silverwood being implanted then removed again.
He’s screaming.
No one is coming to help him.
The hands. Magic. Screaming. It repeats again and again.
Olruggio screams. That is what finally wakes him.
Qifrey gasped in the dark. His heart was pounding out of his chest. He couldn't see anything. He lifted a hand up and touched the bandage over his empty eye socket. The one that hadn't held an eye since childhood. The one that once held the seed of the silverwood. Now torn open again, but this time it remained empty.
Still, it reminded him it was real. On some level, it was all real. He had been held down by magic and brute force as they cut him open to remove the silverwood from him.
On some level he was grateful.
On another, he despised having his choice removed once again.
He supposed it was a fitting end to it all.
Qifrey reached for his bedside table and fumbled for the matches. Moving carefully, he lit a candle. Everything still blurred together. They might have been able to remove the silverwood, but he still had one dying eye. That had not changed.
But he was free of his curse. That part hadn’t been a dream.
He'd been tortured in the name of saving him. They had explained it over and over, that they needed him as distressed as possible to make removal of the silverwood inside him easier. He knew how the silverwood worked. He lived with it inside him for years. The logic behind it was sound: make him as distressed as possible without causing too much harm so that it would retreat into a seed.
Knowing this did not remove his hurt. It did not restore his trust.
Qifrey set his glasses on his nose and walked to the kitchen as softly as he could. The girls were away, shielded from his suffering for now, but Olruggio had refused to leave him alone. Qifrey was grateful to him, though his guilt wouldn’t let him fully accept it.
It had happened like it always did. Olruggio figuring out that he was hiding something then confronting Qifrey about it, and Qifrey confessing, being forgiven then erasing Olly’s memories. It happened like clock work. Olruggio had figured him out so many times that Qifrey should have known Olruggio would realize there were gaps in his memory. He should have known that he would figure it all out.
During one of the confrontations, Olruggio had kept notes. Just a few about the brim hats, the silverwood, and a few far fetched ideas to help. Scattered notes of a man thinking quickly and not wanting to forget. Someone who didn’t expect to forget. He’d done it without being seen like any good witch, perhaps his body knew instinctively something was familiar and wrong.
That was Olruggio’s first clue that something had happened.
As he figured Qifrey out again and again, the previous notes would make sense, and he began writing more during every confrontation. Thus a new cycle began. He’d realize that his old notes were relevant and would make more. Eventually he pieced them together, and he realized what was happening. He wrote more and more notes. Kept a journal of it.
Their last confrontation before all hell broke loose, Olruggio had written himself a letter. He made a copy of his notes and theories. The letter told him of his plans to confront Qifrey and his worry that his memory was being erased. But he still wanted to give Qifrey a chance to make a different choice.
The choice was always the same for Qifrey. Just as Olruggio’s choice had always been to forgive him and offer help.
Finally, Olruggio brought forth his evidence to Qifrey. It had been the worst of them all. Qifrey still remembered the shock and the overwhelming guilt as he realized just how deeply he was affecting Olly. It'd been the first time he'd cried in front of Olly since they were children. Olruggio had forgiven him again, regardless of Qifrey's obvious guilt and wrongdoing. Yet again, he'd offered understanding and a helping hand. And yet again, Qifrey made his same choice to protect Olruggio and himself.
Qifrey had searched the entire atelier for any hidden notes. He found none because Olly hadn’t hidden them in their home.
So when Olruggio had rediscovered everything, he had his proof. He’d taken it to a few who he thought he could trust for help with Qifrey. And the whole thing had unraveled from there. Action had been taken against them both.
And now they were here.
Olruggio had first apologized when Qifrey woke up. He confessed everything. Qifrey had been saved at a great cost, and it was all Olly's fault. Not that he would ever hold it against him. After everything he had done, Qifrey was the last person to deny anyone forgiveness.
But he truly did not see anything to forgive. Olly was the only one he'd wanted to thank.
Beldaruit had done his best to shield them both, spinning the story with Olruggio’s help that Qifrey was only searching for a cure and not after the Brim Hats or forbidden magic. That he had done nothing wrong. The girls would stay with him while Qifrey healed.
It was more than he deserved.
Qifrey didn’t know how long he’d been standing there when he heard footsteps behind him.
“Qifrey?” Olruggio’s deep voice sounded heavier with sleep. “Are you alright?”
“Fine.” Qifrey smiled. He stood in the kitchen, unsure why he had come here. He wasn’t hungry. He’d only eaten the past few days because of Olly.
“Don’t lie to me; we’ve no need of that now.”
“Right.” Qifrey turned away. It was out of habit more than anything. Years of keeping secret after secret didn’t exactly stop over night. But Qifrey wanted to try. For Olly. “I… dreamed again.”
“Nightmares?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.” He whispered.
Qifrey had lost count of how many times Olruggio had apologized since he’d woken in the hospital. After years and years of discovering his secrets and immediately forgiving him over and over again, it was strange to hear Olruggio apologize. Qifrey hated it.
He opened his mouth.
Olly beat him to it.
“Don’t tell me to stop.” Olruggio crossed his arms. “I am sorry.”
“And I’ve told you-”
“I’m sorry that I ain’t sorry!”
“What?”
“I’m not sorry that they saved you, and I don’t think I can ever be sorry about saving you.” Olruggio looked down. “But I am sorry about how it was done. That was never my intention, and had I known what they would do to you… I would have stopped it.”
“Olly…” A flash of a memory. Olruggio being restrained, screaming for Qifrey. Qifrey on the ground with hands and magic restraining him. Hands on his face as a scalpel inched towards his face.
Qifrey would never forgive them for how they'd hurt Olly. He'd watched it happen and been helpless. Olly had watched as they'd cut Qifrey open, unsure if it would work or if Qifrey would survive.
It'd been cruel. To both of them, but Qifrey's anger was for Olly.
“I would have found another way to save you.” Something in Olruggio’s voice broke. Qifrey reached for him. Stopped himself. Then remembered he didn’t have to stop anymore.
He reached again. Olruggio’s head fell onto his shoulder as they wrapped their arms around each other. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, Qifrey.”
“It’s okay, Olly.”
“How can you ever forgive me?”
“I already did.” Qifrey stroked his hair. “Just like you did for me… many, many times.”
Olruggio cried into his shoulder quietly. Qifrey began to feel himself relax. He fought the instinct to pull away, to create distance between them. He felt the ghost of the roots in his mind despite feeling their absence in his body.
He clung tighter to Olly. Out of desperation and out of defiance. He'd spent years unable to hold the man he loved, and now he finally could. He wouldn't let his fears stop him. Hadn't they suffered enough?
When would it be enough?
Why couldn't the fear leave him be?
“Breathe, Qifrey.” Olruggio said. Ever aware of Qifrey, he’d noticed the tension enter his body. The quickened breath. He turned his face into Qifrey’s neck, his nose brushing against his skin. “You’re safe now.”
“I… know.” But something in him didn’t believe it. “I’m trying…”
“I know.” Olruggio’s arms were tight around his waist. It was probably the most contact they’d shared… ever. Despite their years of closeness, Qifrey had always kept him at arm's length. Physically and emotionally.
He'd always wanted this closeness. He'd craved it, but… now that he had it, Qifrey wasn't sure what to do with it.
"Is… this alright?" Olly asked.
"Yes." Qifrey answered honestly. "I just… don't know what to do."
Olruggio chuckled. His breath ghosted across Qifrey's neck, sending a shiver down his back. "I suppose that would make sense." His whiskers tickled Qifrey's neck while he spoke. "Actually a lot of things make sense now that I know about your secret. Especially your behavior." Olruggio lifted his head to look at Qifrey's face.
"I-"
"Don't apologize for surviving."
"Right."
"Just let me help you now." His thumbs brushed Qifrey's waist. It felt like too much and not enough all at once. "Let me take care of you."
Qifrey grabbed his wrists and pulled them off but didn't release him. "I'm s…" He barely stopped before apologizing again. He couldn't look into Olly's eyes. He hadn't expected to be embarrassed around him after so long together, but after just an innocent touch, Qifrey felt like a teenager falling in love with his best friend again. "I'm not used to so much touch…"
"Right." Olruggio said, his voice full of understanding as he pulled his arms out of Qifrey's.
"But I would like to… eventually." He glanced back up to meet Olly's gaze and caught a faint blush spreading across his cheeks.
For years they'd danced around one another, never quite speaking what they were feeling for the other. Now the possibility of exploring such things were right there before them. Qifrey had only ever dreamed of such a chance. And now it was real.
But again, he wasn't sure what to do. He glanced at Olly's lips.
"Qifrey."
"Hm?"
"You're looking at me again." Olruggio said.
"Am I?" Qifrey looked up and met his eyes.
"Yes. You've often looked at me like that… but I was never sure if you meant it."
"Meant… what?"
"That you were interested."
"I-" Now Qifrey could feel his own cheeks heating. Interested didn't begin to cover how he felt about Olly. He craved him.
"You would always run away afterwards or change the subject. Do just enough that I could fool myself into thinking I was imagining it. Or that you didn't want… me." Olly took a deep breath, and Qifrey noticed his hands were trembling. "But now, looking back… you never allowed yourself to want, did you?"
"No."
"And now?"
"I do… want." Qifrey said. "I want you, Olly. I always have."
Olruggio smiled. His laughter was shaky and his eyes kept darting around, always landing back on Qifrey, but clear joy shone on his face.
"I'm assuming…"
"Yes, I want you too Qifrey." Olly admitted. Qifrey smiled, and Olruggio continued. "But I'm not about to be making any demands of you. No- no expectations. We've both been through a lot, you most of all, so-"
"Olly." Qifrey interrupted his spiraling.
"Yes?"
"Thank you, but… can we try one thing?"
Olly's face turned fully red. "Of course, anything, Qifrey."
Qifrey stepped forward and cupped Olly's face. He brushed his thumbs along his cheeks feeling the facial hair that was growing longer than he normally allowed. He glanced between Olly's wide eyes then leaned forward.
Olly met him in the middle. Their lips brushed together softly. Qifrey felt his heart rate spike, and Olruggio gasped softly. It'd only been a moment, barely a kiss, but Qifrey knew he was addicted. He was finally free and freedom, it seemed, brought forth his greed. He leaned in again.
Olly's hands rested on his hips gently as they kissed again. It remained soft but they did not pull apart so quickly this time. Their lips moved together slowly, learning each other, savoring each other. Qifrey felt his entire body go warm as the kiss continued. He was not naive to what he was feeling, but he was not yet ready to move beyond this.
Qifrey pulled back. They were both breathing heavily. His hands were gripping Olly's face too tightly, though he didn't seem to mind.
They both broke out in large smiles and soft laughter. Olly kissed his cheek softly. Then his jaw. His ear. His hair.
"Come to bed with me?" Qifrey froze, and Olruggio immediately groaned. "Not… like that. I meant to sleep… if you're comfortable with that?"
Qifrey relaxed. "Of course."
"We don't even have to touch, just be near each other. And then if you have another nightmare-"
Qifrey kissed his nose. "I would love that, Olly."
By moonlight, they climbed into bed together fully clothed. At first they kept space between them, but slowly moved closer until they were pressed tightly against each other. A few more kisses and giggles were given before they finally fell asleep. Qifrey woke warm, happy, and without nightmares.