Struggle Is Like This
oOo
He sometimes likes to remember things. Quiet moments hidden in Pete's apartment, away from the GSE's eye. Whispered secrets and stolen kisses. It's good to remember those things, even if it hurts. Even if it tears him up from the inside out with each second he lives through the memories.
He likes to lay in bed and, staring up at the ceiling with half-mast eyes, in that state of half-awareness, remember how sometimes he would wake up and Pete would be lying next to him. He could remember holding Pete as tight and as close as possible and, when Pete would start to wake, make long, slow, sleepy love (that's what he called it because, truly, to Matt that's what it was and he knew secretly that Pete thought it that, too) that would change, in increments, into something stronger.
Into Matt on his back with Pete over him and Pete's hand on his thigh and Pete, fully awake now, with glittering flashes in his blue-silver eyes, pushing into him while Matt's body arched to meet his, choking out Pete's name, their hands clutching at each others' so tightly bruises would shadow them later.
It always makes him struggle to not break down afterward, remembering those times, but it makes him smile, too. Bitter and heartbroken as it is, but he still smiles because he's grateful. For Pete, for what they had, for the short amount of time they spent together. For that side of Pete that no one was ever able to see because of the cruel and ruthless mask he wore during the fights and confrontations.
He misses Pete, more than anything in the world. He misses him because, for all his flaws and foul words, Pete was that piece of Matt that had been absent up until the moment he had set eyes on him. And it hurt, ached, more than words could describe now that he was gone for good. Matt would never see him again.
But even though Pete was gone, what he changed in Matt wasn't and never would be, and that was another thing he could be grateful for, he supposed. The lessons he learned, not only that there was a time to stand your ground and a time to walk away, but also that there was a scared little boy in every man. That there was a soft weakness behind every cold wall. That there was always a part of the soul that was aching to love and be loved in return.
And that lesson, that very last lesson Matt had discovered in Pete, would forever sear its place on his heart and burn white-hot every time Pete's face or Pete's voice came to mind. And he's okay with that, because being reminded of Pete and the time they shared together gives him such a high he wonders if he'll ever come back down, and, when eventually he does, he wonders if he'll ever reach it again (which he will).
Sometimes he dreams of what it could have been if Pete were alive, and those dreams are always the best because there is no struggle. It's so easy. He wishes those dreams were real, but since they're not, Matt has to take deep breaths and pull himself out of bed and through another day because Pete had taught him to live and he had promised himself he would live in a way that honoured Pete.
And Matt never broke his promises. Especially to Pete, especially when loyalty to Pete lay on the line.
So he lives and he loves and he honours as best he can, but he never forgets that little boy that hid in a man's body or those whispered words said so quietly under the cover of night that now rest on a dead man's lips buried six feet beneath the ground. He never forgets flashing blue eyes that could never decide what colour they wanted to be or smiles that always stopped his heart only to send it into over drive seconds later. He never forgets the quick, merciless fighter that struck like a bullet and shattered others like glass.
He never forgets Pete, for all he was and for all he should've been.
A/N: I was actually not going to post this because for some reason I'm terrified of the response, but, eh...please don't kill me? Review instead?