Oops, forgot the author's note. I'm so smart.
Disclaimer: I own neither The Cain Saga nor the Fall Out Boy song this is titled after.
Warnings: Shonen-ai (non explicit boy-on-boy)... And that's pretty much it. Shocking, I know. This is a first for me. That and using the phrase "I love you." in a way that isn't completely twisted.
Sure, there's a non-detailed murder attempt and accidental impliedsex(the fact that this isn't rated M proves that I didn't realizeit could be taken that way'til afterwards.) but that's pretty tame for me. Don't worry, the next story will be a lot worse.
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I always loved you.
I just didn't realize it until you lay dying in my arms.
I no longer know whether those were a corpse's arms that you died in, or if I'm still alive.
I don't know where I am, but it can't be Heaven.
That's where you are.
I know you're there, still wearing that serene smile.
It was that smile that saved you.
Much as I shudder to think about it now, I used to hate you.
Working for you was humiliation.
I was above that.
I had been above that before I met you…
Hadn't I…?
You probably remember the morning when you woke up to find that I was sleeping next to you, an arm thrown around your waist.
You could have been horrified.
You could have had me arrested.
You could have had me sacked.
You could have done any number of things.
But you didn't.
You snuggled close to me and refused to let go.
We never spoke of it afterwards.
I wonder if you knew why I came into your room in the first place.
Because you saved me, I'll tell you the horrible truth.
I came in there to kill you.
My fingers closed over your throat easily.
I could have crushed it in an instant and been gone before you were.
But before I could, you revealed yourself to me.
Not the calm, aloof persona that you kept around you like a suit of armour, but the lost little boy who cried amid the mountains of corpses.
You whispered your Father's name, and a tear dripped down your cheek.
I don't know how, but I realized then why you couldn't detach yourself from him.
He'd broken your wings.
I had to protect you until they healed and you could fly.
I was about to leave, when I heard you say my name.
You were sitting up, your eyes open, but clouded.
You held out a hand.
I took it.
You were warm.
I always thought you'd be cold.
Another thing I was wrong about.
Sometimes, I wonder if you were awake the whole time.
Did you know what you were saying or how it would affect me?
Or had you only been dreaming, trying to recover the childhood that your Father's whip had stolen?
A child…
Did he ever give you a chance to be one?
To be a little boy?
Sometimes I think that you're still a little boy.
A little boy that I would do anything to protect.
A little boy I killed when I left.
Was my leaving the blow that shattered him into pieces…?
I just know that the next time I saw you, he was gone.
But you forgave me, didn't you?
You said you did the last time I saw you.
That was the time when I realized that I loved you.
Not the love between a master and servant.
Not between a parent and his child.
Not the disgusting mockery that your father said was love.
Not the twisted way you loved your Father.
I loved you.
That's all.
Simple.
Plain.
Honest.
That kind of love.
The kind where I'd accompany you to the depths of Hell.
But sometimes I think that I've gone there alone.
I'm sorry, but Heaven is the one place I can't follow you to.
But, at the very least, neither can your Father.
You're free at last.
I know.
I saw you laughing for the first time after you died.
The only part of me that can follow you is the kiss I placed on your lips before I died.
When I did, I saw you again, for just a moment.
But that moment will stay with me forever.
I wasn't looking at your corpse.
Not your calm eternity.
Not your beautiful face stained with blood.
No.
This was different.
This place didn't exist.
It was your safe house.
Your sanctuary.
Your somewhere.
In this place, you could be happy.
Your mouth was open, but the sound that came from it was laughter rather than screams.
You walked on a thick path of red, but it didn't soil you.
You walked on flower petals, not corpses.
The crimson didn't drag you down, didn't defile you, didn't even seem to touch you.
Wings sprouted from the wounds on your back, but not the kind you'd always been told you had.
Father and the others had been lying all along.
They weren't black or tattered or the colour of fresh-spilt blood.
Your wings were full and feathered, reaching up into the heavens.
They remained as beautifully pure and white as ever, no dark traces of insanity.
They have always been that way, you just couldn't see it.
You'll see them soon though…
And I hope I'm with you when you finally take flight.
Sincerely,
Cassian
