/ deep inhale / LADIES AND GENTS, THIS IS THE MOMENT YOU'VE WAITED FOR
This reunion scene that's been in development for two months of real time and six years of story timeline. It's a two-parter; first I wrote it alternating between Mika and Kurda's POVs but there were so many parts where I wished I could explore both their perspectives. So I did exactly that!
Part one is strictly Kurda's viewpoint/internal dialogue. Part two will be Mika's. I've included snippets of their stream of consciousness, / and they're formatted like this./
This is a really heavy chunk of storyline, so be warned. It's emotional, raw, and extremely chaotic because how could it not be after the way they left things between them? Again, dropping a precautionary TW for allusions to something that could be loosely considered self-harm.
With that said, I thoroughly enjoyed writing this and I am SO excited to finally be posting it. AHHH.
Chapter 9: SOBER I - Kurda
Song: Sober by Lorde
Oh god, I'm clean out of air in my lungs
It's all gone
Played it so nonchalant
It's time we danced with the truth
Move along with the truth
We're sleeping through all the days
I'm acting like I don't see
Every ribbon you used to tie yourself to me
Kurda had really grown to love his village over the almost six years he'd called it home. Loved his cozy cottage. Loved watching the ships float in and out of the harbour. Loved the summers when the marine life was plentiful and he could sip tea while watching the whales play from his kitchen window. Loved the wildflowers that bloomed on the path that led down to the dock. He even liked his part-time job as a bartender down the road; the same bar in which he'd won the bet for ownership of the cottage. The owner, Nathan, had offered him the position not long after that. Nathan was impressed by the mysterious blond man known as "Kyle Smith" who spoke gently to everyone he met. "Kyle" had a natural knack towards breaking up brawls and calming down even the most unhinged drunkards. Somehow he also had enough physical strength in his slender frame to forcibly escort patrons who wore out their welcome.
Kurda could've survived without the job just fine, by reverting to a traditional vampiric lifestyle where he hunted and killed all of his food. But he liked being able to buy things when he needed; clothes, snacks, books. He could have made more money than he did, but he refused to work full-time because he felt compelled to do as much volunteer work as he could cram into his days. The homeless shelter and soup kitchen, the centre for troubled youth, the women's shelter, the animal shelter... every volunteer organization in the small town knew the name Kyle Smith.
Kurda wouldn't have gone so far to say he was happy. Every waking moment was plagued with grief for both the vampire and the vampaneze clan, and self-loathing for what he'd put Mika and Gracie through. Even so, six years after the worst days of his life he supposed he was as content as he could hope to be for the rest of his days.
But gods damn, these winters were a lot to deal with even for the toughest vampire. And if you know anything, you know that physically speaking, Kurda isn't the toughest vampire.
This area had at least six "blizzards of the decade" every decade. But this one was so aggressive it was deemed "blizzard of the century". And so far there'd only been three of those that particular century so that was saying a lot.
But it wasn't terrible for Kurda personally. He had some books. He still had hydro at this point so he could watch his small television if he wanted. He didn't like to brag, but he got three whole channels. He'd be fine.
There were two comfortable reclining armchairs in the cottage, but he only ever sat in one. He brewed himself a cup of tea and sat down. He made it through three chapters of his book - then the cozy silence was punctured by something besides the sporadic shrieking of the wind. Someone was knocking on his door, and he wasn't exactly accustomed to having visitors.
Kurda shot to his feet as fast as a lightning strike. He picked up his dagger from the kitchen table - the only weapon he'd taken when he left the mountain - and approached the door warily. Kurda loved this cottage and he'd been incredibly lucky to come to own it the way he did but damn, he wished the front door had a window.
Not that a brief preview could've come close to preparing him for the fact that when he slowly turned the lock and opened the door, he came face to face with a ghost from his previous life.
/ This can't be real. /
Kurda blinked several times, frozen. And not because of the cold. His heart rate accelerated into the stratosphere as he was unwillingly jerked back in time. The last time he saw this face looking back at him, they'd also been standing in the snow like they were right now. If his math was correct, and it always was, almost six years had elapsed since that night. They'd shared a lot in the time they knew each other, including the worst night of their lives. Fittingly, that was also they last thing they ever shared.
/ I'm dreaming. I'm hallucinating. I must've fallen and hit my head. You're not real. /
But the frigid wind was burning his exposed flesh so painfully there was no way he was dreaming.
/ Oh my gods... /
"Mika?" He choked out at last. The name felt strange on his lips, like something he'd tasted in another lifetime.
"Unfortunately." Mika replied stiffly. Kurda couldn't get a good look at his face because of how the shadows fell, but his voice was deep and strained.
For several more moments, Kurda just stood in the doorframe and stared at him. Time stood still and suddenly he was oblivious to the screaming wind, stinging ice pellets, and the deathly chill in the air.
"Either you move, or I move you." Mika added.
/ Aaaaaand you're still a prick. /
While he sounded just as abrasively impatient as ever, what stood out to Kurda the most was the almost desperate note of exhaustion. Even in the dull light Kurda could see he was shivering violently from the subarctic chill.
"Sorry. Come in." Said Kurda, still feeling like this was a semi-lucid dream. He stepped out of Mika's way and locked the door behind him once they were both indoors.
Then he froze in his tracks as a terrifying thought occurred to him. There was no way this was a social visit.
"What are you doing here? Is Gracie okay?" He blurted out in a panic.
"Gracie's fine." Mika responded curtly. His tone was clipped and businesslike and Kurda could immediately tell how uncomfortable he was with the situation.
/ I suppose I can't really blame you for looking like you'd rather be anywhere else in the world. /
There was so much more Kurda wanted to ask Mika, but he knew better than to question him rapid-fire. Mika wouldn't have come unless he had a good reason. And seeing as the reason didn't seem to be a family emergency, that was enough for Kurda to relax and give Mika his space.
/ How dare you still look that good? What gives you the right? /
He watched as the Prince wandered around Kurda's living room. He moved slowly and stiffly, and there was an almost dazed expression on his face which was still red from the cold.
Several minutes ticked by, and Kurda decided to test the waters.
"Don't I get a hug?" He quipped sarcastically. Mika whipped around and glared daggers at him, hostility flashing in his eyes. Some things never change. "It was a joke." Kurda added meekly.
/ Yeah, I hate me too. /
"Comedy was never your thing. Who's house is this?" Mika grunted as he kicked his boots off.
"Mine." Kurda informed him calmly.
"How do you have your own house? I don't even have a fucking house." Mika commented as he stared around the living room. "Glad exile has been so kind to you."
"Won it in a bet. Just the right place at the right time." Kurda explained. "It's a funny story, actually. I met this guy-"
"I don't care." Mika interrupted icily.
/ Points for honesty. /
Kurda sighed but stopped he could see Mika more clearly. He was dressed warmly although not warmly enough for these conditions. Every inch of him was coated in a layer of ice and his body was still trembling from the cold. Kurda still hadn't gotten a clear view of his face; Mika seemed to be angling his body away as though hesitant to make eye contact. And honestly, right now Kurda was more than fine with that.
"What are you doing here, Mika?" Kurda asked cautiously. "I don't suppose this is a social visit."
Mika slowly turned to face him and finally their eyes met. Kurda felt time stand still as his heart broke again for the hundred thousandth time. At first glance, Mika looked exactly the same. Still dressed in black, still obnoxiously attractive, still not appearing a day older than thirty-something. But there was something different about him and Kurda couldn't quite place it. Maybe it was absence of the defiant gleam in his steely eyes, or the way he no longer carried himself with the enviably effortless confidence that bordered on arrogance (and as far as Kurda was concerned, crossed the line plenty of times).
"It's not an emergency, and nothing's wrong. But I actually am here about Gracie."
Kurda's stomach clenched.
"I came to give you this." Said Mika. He reached into the layers of clothing and withdrew an envelope. "She wrote it... she wanted me to get it to you. So this is me getting it to you."
And that was it. Kurda's entire universe stopped dead in its tracks. The moment he'd longed for was upon him. And it was terrifying. Mika handed him the letter and he slowly took it as his heart pounded even harder somehow.
"Is she okay?" Kurda whispered. They both knew there was a difference between the definition of "okay" when he first asked the question versus now.
Kurda's hands were shaking too hard to even consider opening it. He locked his eyes onto Mika's, silently begging him not to break contact. Mika didn't look away. He met Kurda's eyes with a hard, contemplative stare of his own. His expression was unreadable.
/ Please, Mika. Tell me I didn't destroy her the way I destroyed you. /
"She's perfect." Mika replied after a long pause, his voice gravelly. "Despite everything, despite us... she's perfect."
The sudden rush of relief and emotion was almost enough to bring Kurda to his knees. That was all he needed to hear. That was everything.
Well, almost everything.
He didn't expect to make much progress with Mika. He was surprised Mika hadn't turned and left the second he handed the letter over.
Kurda decided to try.
"And how are you?" Kurda added, his voice even quieter than before.
Mika looked away from Kurda, and their brief connection was severed.
"Cold." Mika murmured.
"You're shaking." Kurda observed, instinctively taking a step closer. All he wanted to do was throw his arms around Mika, wrap him in a warm blanket and hold him until he felt warm and safe again. But it didn't work like that anymore. It hadn't worked like that in a long time.
"How long were you out in the storm?"
"About two days. I flitted most of the trip but I had to slow down once I got caught in it." Mika admitted flatly.
"Well, stay here til the storm passes, okay?" Said Kurda cautiously, figuring it had to be worth a try. "Now I'm sure this is the last place on earth you want to be-"
"Correct." Mika interjected bluntly.
"-but it's supposed to clear up by late tomorrow. Just give it a day."
"Would be my fucking luck." Mika growled, turning to gaze out the window at the endless snow. But he didn't disagree.
"Go take a hot shower." Kurda urged him. "You're practically blue. Seriously, you look like a corpse. I have some dry clothes you can change into. Leave your wet ones on the floor and I'll put them in the dryer. This place came with one, it's amazing-"
Mika turned away from him and wordlessly stalked away to the bathroom. It wasn't a big cottage, and there was only one floor so it wasn't hard to find. He shut the door, Kurda heard the lock click and several seconds later the sound of the shower running.
But my hips have missed your hips
So let's get to know the kicks
Will you sway with me?
Go astray with me?
Kurda gathered up some warm clothes for Mika to change into, and set them in front of the bathroom door. Then he collapsed into his armchair and took several steadying breaths. He was still convinced he'd imagined that entire conversation. His mind spun, possibly at a faster rate than ever before in his life and that was saying a lot. Eventually he heard the shower turn off, and the door open a minute later.
Then he heard Mika's voice across the room,
"Why do you have this? I know for a fact you're not interested in beer or titties."
Kurda looked up and for one glorious moment, he forgot about every awful thing that led up to this point in his life. One single moment of pure hilarity had his heart feeling lighter than it had in years. He couldn't stop himself from letting out a small laugh when he realized the the hoodie he'd lent Mika said "I Heart Beer And Titties" across the front in large letters.
"I actually didn't know it had anything on it. It's not mine." Kurda exclaimed, smiling in amusement. He was surprised his facial muscles still knew how to do that. "See, I sort of work as a bartender and every now and then I take home the unclaimed clothes from the lost and found box, and I clean them up and donate them to the homeless shelter. That one must've been inside-out when I washed it."
"I'm keeping it." Mika informed him. "Arrow will think it's funny."
/ Of course he will. /
"I don't doubt it. Enjoy." Said Kurda flatly as he added a piece of wood to the fireplace before returning to his armchair. Mika sat in the other one.
"Wait, you have a job?" Mika backtracked abruptly.
"Have to pay the bills somehow." Said Kurda. His tone was crisp and light but completely serious. "You may recall I lost my old job a few years ago."
"That's one way of putting it." Mika replied darkly.
"How have you been, Mika?" Kurda asked cautiously. "Seriously. I want to know. I've been worried."
Mika let out a short, sharp laugh and Kurda knew he was in for a ride. But he was being honest. No matter how bad, he wanted to know. Whatever happened after he left the mountain, it was his fault.
"How have I been? Wow. Fuck me, where do I even start? Well, I was blind drunk for the entire first week after you were gone. Except for a six hour window when I had to flit up to the school and tell Gracie what happened-"
Kurda winced.
"How did she take it?" He asked anxiously.
"As well as could be expected." Said Mika, bitterness in his eyes at the memory. "She didn't deserve that, Kurda."
"Do you think I don't know that?! Screwing you over was hard enough. But knowing what it would do to her... I thought I was going to die of a broken heart months before council even started!" Kurda shot back with a hoarse, angry laugh.
/ I may not know what you went through after I was gone. But you had no idea what I was going through right before your very eyes. /
"Why didn't you tell me the truth from the start?" Mika asked, his voice much quieter than before. "I would've done anything to help you. You knew that."
"Did I?!" Kurda snapped. "I'm sure you would have tried, Mika. But at the end of the day, you were still you and I was still me. You aren't capable of hatching a plan radical enough to do what needed to be done. Not to mention it would've had to go through Arrow, Paris, and Vancha. As soon as I knew what kind of timeframe I was working with, I knew I didn't have the luxury to go above-board. So no. You couldn't have helped me. Anything you would have been willing to do, wouldn't have been enough."
/ And I know you know I'm right, so please. Save us both the trouble. /
"I guess I can't argue with that." Said Mika coolly.
"You know, you didn't finish telling me how you've been doing. You covered getting drunk, and breaking the news to Gracie, then what?" Kurda asked in a low, almost encouraging voice.
Mika laughed harshly again.
"You don't want to know."
/ No, I don't. But I need to. /
"Mika, I really do. Please. Be honest."
"Well, it was a full week before I could physically set foot in the Hall of Princes without having a mental breakdown and even then it was iffy. And it was a month before I could go sleep in my own cell, seeing as I smashed my furniture the night you left, just because thought of walking into that room with all those memories made me want to fucking die."
/ I did that to you... I did that... /
"I was more or less a high-functioning train wreck for almost half the year. Gods only know how Paris and Arrow put up with me. I didn't deserve their patience. I was a fucking disaster. That honest enough for you, Kurda?
/ I'm so, so sorry. I hate this. /
Kurda felt his throat close. It was all he could do to let out a weak moan of despair as paralyzing guilt laid into him as ruthlessly as the day it happened. But Mika just rolled his eyes dismissively as if the memories were no more than a light nuisance to him.
"Oh, don't you worry. I got my shit together eventually. Probably took a decade off my life but I did it. I've been out in the field for almost five years now. This is my last stop before we head home. My team is already on the way back but I told them I'd catch up once I'd... tied up my loose ends."
Kurda buried his face in his hands and breathed heavily for several minutes. He couldn't form a coherent thought.
He was intimately familiar with the clammy embrace of self-loathing, it was practically his roommate. They spent a lot of time together. But the voice inside his head was louder than it had been in years as new salt was poured into old wounds.
"Thank you for being honest." Kurda finally forced out, so quietly he could barely hear himself.
"Whatever." Mika grunted, a weary resentment - although not hatred - smouldering in his eyes.
"What's going on between the clans?" Kurda asked after another brief pause.
His first concern was, had always been Gracie. Then Mika. But he'd be lying if he said the fate of both clans didn't cost him hours upon hours of sleep. Being cut off from both clans so abruptly had been almost as painful as the more personal "losses".
Mika laughed bitterly and that resentment in his eyes burned even brighter.
"I don't think so. That's not how exile works. You lost your privilege to know what's going on. I only told you my story because I want you to know exactly what you put me through. And I'm only in your house because I accidentally had a kid with you."
"Found a kid with me." Kurda corrected out of habit. It was the oldest joke they shared. Mika didn't laugh, but his face relaxed for the tiniest fraction of a moment.
"Fair enough." Kurda added, then his face darkened.
/ Well, I tried. /
"Mika, I need to ask you one other thing... and I know it's none of my business, but I have to know. It's been eating me alive."
Mika raised an eyebrow.
"Try me."
"Is Darren alive?"
/ Please. Please. Please. /
He stared into Mika's eyes and again, Mika held his gaze unwaveringly. Mika stiffened for a moment but then exhaled and softened ever so slightly.
"Yeah. Darren's fine. Not only did we let him off the hook, we gave him one hell of a promotion." Mika began. Kurda felt dizzy from relief at those words, but Mika wasn't finished. When he revealed the bizarre strategy they used to save the boy's life - and the fact that it had been Arrow's idea, of all vampires - Kurda was weeping openly and Mika looked away. He never could stomach the sight of Kurda crying, apparently not even now.
"We're not perfect, Kurda. We're so far from perfect... but we aren't monsters." Kurda heard the low rumble of Mika's voice as he sat hunched in his armchair, wiping his eyes and trying to regain his composure. "It still keeps me up at night how close we came to ending his life. If I had to execute that kid on top of everything else that happened those couple of days... fuck, I wouldn't have been able to come back from that."
/ I know you're not a monster. You're so many things. But you aren't that. You could never be that. /
Kurda nodded sombrely and murmured,
"I know you wouldn't have."
Mika didn't answer.
"How are the others?" Kurda inquired hopefully. He expected Mika to shut him down, but he had nothing to lose from asking. So he tried.
"Well, Arra and Gavner are still dead." Said Mika coldly.
Kurda flinched as his mind wrenched him back in time to that hellish journey through the tunnels, cumulating in the moment he rammed his blade in to Gavner's stomach. Gavner Purl, who'd never done anything to anyone. And Arra, who's blood may not have literally been on his hands but she was dead because of him. And Mika and Larten, another great vampire who Kurda respected, had suffered because of it.
Kurda buried his face in his hands and breathed deeply. He wished he hadn't asked. But although Mika had made a point of sticking that knife in Kurda's heart all over again, he didn't seem interested in twisting it further.
"Larten is doing well." Mika added slowly. "He struggled just as much as I did at first. I truly felt for him. I shared his grief over Arra, but he lost her and Gavner in such a short amount of time... I didn't know if he'd recover but he rose from the ashes with a hell of a lot more dignity than I did."
Kurda nodded, unable to look at Mika.
"Darren's new status came with an unspoken promotion for Larten too. He may not be a Prince, but truthfully we all see him as one of us. And he deserves it." Mika continued, his voice softening.
Kurda slowly raised his head to meet Mika's eyes again.
"Good." He whispered weakly. "That's good."
"Vanez was blinded in the battle. It was a difficult adjustment but he's still the best Games Master we've ever had." Mika continued. "Seba is the same as ever. He didn't retire after council like he'd planned to, but I think he's just as happy that way."
Kurda nodded attentively as Mika spoke.
"Paris is still going strong. He'll outlive us all. But I'm glad he has Darren in the mountain to help him out - Arrow's been out in the field as long as I have. I haven't seen any of the other Princes in almost five years."
/ Ah yes. How could we forget my dear friend Arrow? /
"Five years without Arrow? That sounds a recipe for an astronomical case of separation anxiety." Said Kurda with a wry smirk. Mika didn't smile but he exhaled in a vaguely amused manner.
"Funny, that's what Paris said before we parted ways. And I do miss him, but we've both been keeping busy and communicating regularly."
"What did he say when you told him you were coming to visit me?" Kurda ventured apprehensively.
/ I probably don't want to know. /
Mika snorted derisively and arched his eyebrows at Kurda.
"Like I'd tell him. Best case scenario, he'd worry. Worst case, he'd track me down and carry me back to the mountain at the thought of you being anywhere near me."
/ I will never understand your relationship with that acorn-brained brute. /
"He knows we have a daughter. Surely he realized there was a good chance we'd have to see each other again at some point." Kurda grunted dispassionately.
"You know how he is." Mika replied, a defensive edge to his tone. "And if you saw me the night you left... you wouldn't blame him."
Kurda sighed deeply. His opinion of Arrow may not have been stellar, but he knew how deeply the man was bonded with Mika and he didn't have to ask to know that Arrow was the one who pulled him through the worst day of his life. Gods knew it sure as hell hadn't been Kurda.
/ Maybe someday I'll be able to thank Arrow for fixing what I broke. /
"Are you hungry?" Kurda asked gingerly, beyond ready to change the subject.
"I'm fine. Hunted on my way here." Came the muttered reply.
"Good. How are you feeling now? You must be exhausted." Kurda asked gently.
"Somehow I'm still cold." Mika admitted.
"Winters here are brutal." Said Kurda. "But the summer is worth it. You should see the view from this window when the snow is gone, oh my gods. It's incredible. It's worth a bit of sunburn to get up in the middle of the day and watch the whales jumping in the harbour."
Mika gave him a funny sort of look that was hard to decode. But it looked more sad than anything else.
"I just remember how much you liked watching the whales when we went on that mission, do you remember? On that ship?" Kurda added meekly.
"When you threw up about ten seconds after we left the dock?" Said Mika with an affirmative nod. "That was the first mission we ever went on together. Gods, you were so annoying. I wanted to throw you overboard."
"You told me. Several times." Kurda sighed.
"At least you always knew where you stood with me. Can't say the same about you." Mika added darkly, raising an eyebrow. Kurda groaned and closed his eyes for a moment or two, running a hand tiredly through his hair.
/ You're never going to let me live that down. Nor should you. /
"We were so young back then." Kurda reminisced. "You were a freshly minted General with an ego complex, and I was -"
"A naive misfit who'd rather sit alone and draw a map than make friends." Mika interjected sullenly.
/ Well, you're not wrong. /
"Ouch." Said Kurda. Mika shrugged unapologetically.
"You still pulled a bullet out of me on that trip." Kurda added as an afterthought. "That was the first nice thing you ever did for me. Sure it hurt like a son of a bitch, as you knew it would, but you took care of me."
"It wouldn't have looked good on my record if I lost a man to an infected bullet wound on my first mission as a General." Mika retorted. "The Princes might've frowned upon that."
"Either way, I appreciated it. Even though I didn't show it at the time."
Mika nodded with an indifferent little shrug.
"The sun will be coming up soon. I'm going to bed. You should too." Said Kurda. Mika nodded curtly.
"Just give me a spare blanket. I'll sleep on the floor out here."
"I can't let you sleep on the floor, Mika." Kurda groaned. "Sleep in my bed. There's more than enough room and we can have separate blankets. You won't even notice I'm there."
Mika gave that some consideration and although he didn't look enthusiastic (Kurda couldn't blame him) his weary body must have complained louder than his frayed dignity.
"Fine." He told Kurda reluctantly, and followed him into the small bedroom. Kurda passed him a thick cotton duvet and Mika slowly lay down on the left side of the cushiony king-size mattress.
"That's close enough, Kurda." Mika warned him sharply. Kurda gazed over at him defeatedly. He hadn't even realized how close he'd gotten to the centre of the bed.
"I wasn't going to touch you. I know better." Kurda told him in a low, calm voice.
"Good. Don't."
Mika lay quietly for a moment but then sat back up and went about removing the hoodie. It did get pretty warm in this room on account of the space heater.
Kurda didn't know what compelled him to glance over as Mika stripped down to the t-shirt below. But Mika's right forearm caught his eye. There was a collection of new scars there, small but unmissable. Kurda knew immediately they hadn't been there the last time they were together.
There are pretty much unlimited ways in which a vampire can collect scars, and most of them act as if wrecking their bodies is their day job. If it had been anyone else, Kurda wouldn't have spared a second look. But Mika wasn't a reckless idiot. He didn't go around racking up new battle scars for the thrill of it. He was too skilled; very few vampires could get close enough to leave a mark on him. But even if they did... swords and spears wouldn't leave thin, erratic scars like that.
Kurda felt his throat close up as his heart dropped into his stomach.
/ No... no... no... not this. /
Mika's steely grey eyes flicked towards him, and Kurda knew Mika had seen him looking.
"What?" Said Mika roughly, almost defiantly. Clearly he already knew what Kurda had been looking at.
"Did you do that to yourself... because of me?" Kurda whispered.
/ Please tell me you were just sparring or something. Please tell me I didn't do that too. /
Mika held up his arm and looked at it contemplatively for a moment. His face was strangely neutral. Except his eyes. There was a glassy, faraway look about them as though he was only half-present.
"Not in the way you're thinking. I didn't do it deliberately." He answered at last, his voice coming out in a rasp. "I already told you I lost it and wrecked some furniture the night you left - this was from when I punched through my mirror as hard as I could."
"No..." Kurda whimpered. He felt nauseous.
"Yeah. I knew what would happen, I knew it would hurt and I did it anyway. So I guess it's not that different from... what you were thinking." Mika explained tonelessly. He looked over at Kurda with that same hard, world-weary expression. Those eyes that had seen too much.
"Oh gods, Mika..." Kurda croaked, burying his face in his hands because it was as close as he could get to escaping from this.
"Don't you even." He heard Mika growl, his voice suddenly shaking with barely suppressed fury. "You had a fucking bottle of poison set aside for me! You turned your back on everything you ever loved! You do not get to sit there and cry because I hurt myself six years ago when I was at the lowest point of my entire life. So fuck right off with that."
Kurda's mind was a black hole. Devoid of any coherent thought.
"I trusted you." Mika whispered, his body shaking. "I would've died for you. You knew everything about me, even the things I didn't want anyone to know. I never loved anyone like I loved you."
And then finally, the most crushing blow of all:
"How could you do that to me, Kurda?"
"You don't think I've hated myself every second of every day since I made those plans in the first place?" Kurda spat, trembling in distress. "Mika, I would give anything to have had the option to keep you safe from all of that! I had no choice!"
"You always have a choice! You've always known I would've done anything for you! But you lied to me for years, and it cost us everything!"
"I'm the one who lost everything." Kurda croaked. "You only lost me."
"Yeah, that's all I lost!" Mika snarled, his words drenched in angry sarcasm. "Just you! I didn't lose my sanity, my confidence, or my dignity! I didn't drink myself into a coma every other night the first three months just to get some sleep! I didn't seriously consider hanging up the crown and walking away from it all! No, I ONLY lost you!"
/ That can't be true. You'd never walk away. I don't believe you. /
"I thought about you every waking moment. I knew it would be hell on you." Kurda whispered. "I prayed to every deity I've ever heard of that you'd find a way to come out whole on the other side. It was the only thing left I could do for you."
"I'm not whole, Kurda! I'll never be whole again as long as I live! Whatever is left of me survived DESPITE you! So keep your fucking prayers because there's no god or gods up there that give a single fuck about me!" Mika snarled, voice growing louder and louder. "It was Arrow who scraped me off the floor that night before I bled out! It was Paris who sat with me all day so I didn't do anything else stupid! It was Seba, Larten, Vanez, Darren, and the rest of the clan who were patient with me as I re-learned how to function so I could do my job and take care of them!"
Kurda was sobbing unrestrainedly now, his muscles aching from the intensity of it.
"And it was Gracie who kept me going when I just wanted all of it to stop." Mika continued venomously. "Because of them, I'm still here, and I'm not going anywhere! So save your fucking sympathy because I don't need it!"
/... How did it ever, ever come to this? /
A ringing silence hung in the air between them. The only sound was Kurda's muffled sobs and Mika's shallow, erratic breathing. He sounded like he was on the verge of a panic attack but for once, Kurda focused on himself instead. He'd turned his back on Mika, and was sitting on the far side of the bed and fumbling desperately through the nightstand for a Kleenex although his vision was blurring so much he wouldn't have seen one if it presented itself.
"I'm still sorry, Mika." He croaked out at last when he could draw sufficient oxygen to do so. "I'm sorry you were the collateral damage of my fear, my failure, and my desperation. I'm sorry I put you and Gracie through hell. I'm so, so sorry. And I know that's worth nothing to you now. But it's the truth."
"You know what the worst part is? The most fucked up part of any of this?" Mika added in a strangled whisper, sounding as though he had to fight like hell to get the words out. "The worst part is that after all of that... I forgive you."
/ I can't do this. /
Mika sharply got up from the bed as if it was on fire and walked out of the room, slamming the door as he went.
And Kurda imploded into himself. He thought he'd been a mess before hearing those words but he hadn't even scratched the surface. He hadn't broken down this thoroughly since the night he'd murdered Gavner Purl. He collapsed into the fetal position, pulling the covers against his face and wishing it was enough to make him truly disappear from this cruel, ugly world.
King and Queen of the weekend
Ain't a pill that could touch our rush
But what will we do when we're sober?
Ah, when you dream with the fever
Bet you wish you could touch our rush
But what will we do when we're sober
He didn't know how long he lay there, but eventually there were no tears left to cry. His body and soul had finally been drained dry. He had nothing. He was nothing.
Nothing that came even remotely close to being worth of a shred of forgiveness. Least of all from Mika.
Eventually, Kurda realized he was so dehydrated it was becoming difficult to breathe and swallow. He knew he needed water. He supposed he should go see if Mika had wandered off into the blizzard, and Kurda wouldn't have blamed him if he had.
He felt a flicker of relief as he entered the living room, a glass of water in each hand, and saw Mika sitting on the floor by the fireplace like a cat enjoying the heat. Kurda surveyed Mika's body language from a distance, gods only knew what kind of mental state he was in.
But he looked calm, all things considered. Hell of a lot better than Kurda, anyway. It occurred to Kurda that Mika had almost definitely spent the last six years just waiting get all that off his chest.
So Kurda cautiously approached. As he drew within three feet, Mika looked up sharply.
"Don't touch me." Mika snapped quickly, his eyes flashing dangerously. Clearly he was no longer interested in running the offence, but his default setting of defence never truly disengaged.
/ I get it. It's okay. /
Kurda nodded mutely and sat down at a safe distance. He set one of the glasses of water on the floor, close enough for Mika to reach it. For several long minutes, Mika stared down at the glass. Back up at Kurda. Back to the glass. Back to Kurda once more.
Kurda crossed his arms in a display of mock impatience. He didn't mean to do it, it was automatic. Neither of them were in the correct frame of mind for mock anything.
But then something astonishing happened. Mika raised his eyebrows skeptically and for the first time in six years, Kurda saw the faintest trace of the man he fell in love with as Mika looked him dead in the eye and said,
"I swear, Kurda, if you fucking poisoned that..."
Kurda let out a ragged sob of laughter, and suddenly he felt lighter. He picked up the glass he'd offered Mika and drained it himself. Then he set down his own glass in its place. Mika eyeballed him for another moment but begrudgingly picked it up and began to sip it slowly.
For several minutes, they just sat in silence. An unspoken truce had been reached. Kurda knew they were both on the same page now, and he knew Mika knew it too.
"Did you read the letter yet?" Mika asked quietly after setting the empty glass back down.
/ Oh gods. The letter. Gracie. /
"No." Kurda whispered.
"Why?"
"Because right now, I still have hope that she hasn't decided I'm permanently dead to her. And if that's what's in that letter, I'm not in a hurry to kill the only thing that's keeping me going. That's all I fucking have in this world, Mika. The slim chance that she might someday want to breathe the same air as me again."
"Makes sense." Said Mika, nodding.
"There's no way she's going to want anything to do with me. Why would she?" Kurda croaked, his face falling.
"I haven't read it." Said Mika honestly. "I don't know what it says. She said I could read it, but I decided to leave it between you and her."
Kurda pulled the envelope from his pocket and stared down at it anxiously. The suspense was sickening but the worst case scenario hurt so much more.
"I can't do this..." Kurda gulped, feeling bile rise up in the back of his throat.
Mika rolled his eyes unsympathetically.
"Don't be so dramatic. That's what I said the night you left. Then I did it all anyway. And I'm still here."
The words were harsh, but if he'd learned anything about Mika over the years it was that Mika tended to communicate through his tone more than his words. And his tone was almost encouraging. Not quite, but close.
"I've never been as strong as you, Mika."
Mika sighed heavily and shot Kurda a wry look.
"I used to think you were stronger than me. You know that." He replied. "But whether you read it today, tomorrow, next week, next year... know that whatever thoughts and feelings she put on that page, are completely her own. I promised you I wouldn't go out of my way to demonize you, and I kept my word. Yes, I told her the ugly truth. But I made sure she understood why you did what you did, and why you felt you didn't have a choice."
"I didn't FEEL like I didn't have a choice... I DIDN'T have a choice." Kurda murmured, his voice sounding as strained and anxious as his face looked.
"Whatever. One trial was enough. I can't re-hash that again." Mika grunted. "Just read the damn letter. You don't have to tell me what it says, but you're not doing yourself any favours by waiting."
Kurda looked up at Mika, feeling his eyes pool with tears again.
/ I can't do this without you, Mika. /
"Will you sit here with me?" Kurda whispered.
Mika rolled his eyes again.
"I don't really have anywhere else to go now, do I?"
Finally, Kurda slowly tore the envelope open and withdrew the letter. Mika lay down on his back upon the floor, and folded his hands beneath his head.
Dad:
I hope this letter finds you well, I guess.
As I'm writing this, I'm sitting in my office looking out at the city and thinking how lucky I am to be here. After years of school I finally graduated earlier this year, and I'm a law associate now. The goal is to become an attorney someday. Specifically a name partner at my firm, which is about the equivalent of the Vampire Princes. For perspective, I'm about at mountain guard status right now. It's currently a Friday afternoon and my 3:00 meeting just cancelled. I could go home, but I'm hanging around until my boss gets off her conference call in case she needs me to do anything else before the weekend. I'm not a nerd, I just really love my job and I want to advance as quickly as I can. Possibly to the point of obsession but I guess I got that from Dad (Mika, that is).
But my favourite thing about my job is when I get to help with pro-bono cases, which is when we work free of charge for clients who couldn't afford our services otherwise. I think I got that from you.
You've been on my mind a lot this week - probably because Dad (again referring to Mika.) has been living in my guest room the past week. Even while the clan is at war he still makes it for a visit at least once a year. I don't know how he does it. Even when he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders he'll still sit in my car with me for three hours and talk about whatever I need to talk about. Whether we're working through our feelings about you (because that's still a work in progress six years later, believe it or not) or talking about the little things like my incompetent coworker or relationship stuff. He's never let me down. I've had a lot of resentment for a lot of reasons over the past few years, but I had one silver lining. Every friend I had as a teenager complained about how they couldn't stand their dads, how they fight, how they don't get each other. But I never had to go through that. Mika is my best friend. I don't know how to put this without sounding mean, but I just wish I could say the same for you.
With that said, I swear I didn't write this letter to make you feel guilty. The goal isn't to hurt you. If I tried this a few years ago it would've been a different story if I'm being honest. It took this long, but I finally understand this just as painful for you as it was for us. I'll never understand why you did what you did, but I have to believe you thought it was your only option. I'm not ready to see you again yet, but I want to know you again. And I want you to know me. This is as ready as I'll ever be to making the first move, so this is me going for it.
Oh, I have a boyfriend now. His name is Dale. Dad met him the other night and ultimately he liked him but he also admitted he thought he was boring. You know honest he is. He likes golf, reading, and finance and he's allergic to anything that involves an adrenaline rush. The more I think about it, the more I think he's a human version of you. Except way less opinionated. I don't know what the future holds. Maybe you'll meet him someday, maybe you won't. But if you do, I know you'll like him.
The bottom line here is that I'm happy, and I want you to know that I'm okay. And Dad's okay. It wasn't easy, but we got each other through to the other side, and we're stronger for it. I don't know if that strength was worth the pain, but I guess we'll never know.
Now, all I want to know is if you're okay. You can write back to me at the address listed below, if you want. Til then, I'll be thinking of you. I never really stopped, even when I wished I could.
Take care, Dad.
- Gracie
And finally it was over. Kurda's heart was pounding so hard he was surprised Mika couldn't hear it. He took a deep breath, his whole body was trembling violently again, but this time it didn't hurt.
/ She doesn't hate me. She doesn't hate me. She doesn't hate me. I'm going to see my daughter again. /
"Bad news?" Mika ventured, observing Kurda's erratic breathing.
"She... she told me all about her life." Kurda croaked. "Finishing school, her job, her office, her boyfriend... How broken she felt because of me. How strong she is now... that she's happy. That... that someday she wants to see me again. She's not ready yet, but she said someday. Someday..." he repeated, scarcely daring to believe it.
Then the emotions became too much and Kurda broke down again, but this time he was sobbing in relief. Like the weight of the universe had been lifted from his shoulders. He didn't understand how his body was still producing tears at this point when it had already released so many.
"That's good." He heard Mika's voice rumble gently. "That's really good. That's what I wanted for you both, believe it or not."
"She included her address so I can write back to her. And she talked about you..." Kurda choked out, roughly wiping tears from his eyes. "Gods, you did so well with her, Mika. She's so proud of you. She knew how hard you struggled, and she wanted to make sure I knew. That was the hardest part to read."
"I've always wanted her to be honest with me about how she felt." Said Mika wearily. "So I try to be honest with her too. I'm still working on that. Hasn't been easy."
"You've come a long way." Said Kurda. "There was a time you'd rather die than admit to anyone you're capable of emotion."
Mika let out a hoarse, humourless laugh.
"Look at trajectory of our relationship, Kurda. I didn't have a choice."
"Either way, I'm proud of you too. Not that that means much coming from me."
Mika shrugged.
"You're right, it doesn't mean much. But it's more than nothing. So thanks."
"You must be hard up for compliments these days." Kurda remarked drily.
"In case you haven't noticed, I've been off the fucking rails for almost a decade now. Honestly I should've been fired years ago, but nobody wants my job these days." Mika replied.
"Can Princes get fired?" Kurda snorted.
"Probably, if they tried hard enough."
"Then I guess you're not trying hard enough."
"I'll try to do better." Said Mika wryly. He didn't smile but for a second it looked like he could have.
"Come back to the bed, okay?" Kurda suggested wearily. "I'll sleep on the floor if you want. Seriously, I don't mind. You need to get some rest for your trip back. You still look like hell."
Kurda slowly got to his feet and extended his hand to Mika. Mika stood up as well but blatantly ignored Kurda's outstretched hand. He then walked past Kurda and opened the fridge. He stood there for a moment, a highly critical expression on his face.
"What?" Kurda asked.
"What do you eat?"
"Mostly the food at the bar. The cook kind of has a crush on me so he makes me whatever I want. Most nights I have some leftovers to bring home, but I ran out yesterday and everything is shut down with the weather." Kurda shrugged.
"Ah. Getting by on your looks. Might as well, I guess." Mika commented.
/ That's rich coming from you, Sire Ver Leth. /
He withdrew a plastic jug of grapefruit juice and gave it a cautious sniff. He wrinkled his nose and put it back.
"Don't look at me like that. Remember that guard who'd go down to the kitchens and bring you anything you wanted to eat, any time of the day?" Kurda shot back. "You didn't even have to ask."
"He would've done the same for Arrow or Paris." Mika countered with a shrug.
"But he never offered for them. Just you." Kurda snorted. "And you knew exactly what you were doing, too. You'd give him that stupid cocky smile and he'd turn red. He requested a transfer shortly after we went public with our relationship."
"I always wondered what ever happened to him..."
"Do you even remember his name?"
"Uh... George?"
"It was Damien."
"That's what I said."
"Gods, Mika. You're a piece of work, you know that?" Kurda scoffed.
"I vaguely remember you telling me that several times... a week." Mika retorted sardonically.
"No one else was going to say it." Said Kurda matter-of-factly. "I just thought you should- wow, yes. Please help yourself to the last of my cookies. No really, take the whole box to bed with you. I don't mind."
"Your mouth is saying you don't mind, but your face is saying you mind a lot." Mika commended offhandedly through a mournful of cookie as he headed back in the direction of the bedroom with the box of chocolate chip cookies in his hand.
"Don't get crumbs in my bed, okay?"
"You ruined my life. I'll get crumbs wherever I want."
Kurda couldn't entirely suppress a dark chuckle at that. They got back in the bed once again, each on on the far edge, leaving as much space between them as they could. It made it less awkward that they each had their own separate blanket. Times really do change.
Kurda turned on the small tv in the corner and they watched the news for an hour or so. Mika munched his way through the entire bag of cookies and when he was finished he looked Kurda dead in the eye and turned the bag upside down to dump the remaining crumbs on to the clean bedsheet between them.
Kurda pressed his lips together to keep from laughing, and silently went to fetch the vacuum. Mika watched him clear every last crumb from the sheet before lying back down. Kurda turned off the light, then the television and slipped under the blankets.
"Goodnight." He told Mika gently. Mika did not respond.
/ I know, babe. It's not a good night. /
These are the games of the weekend
We pretend that we just don't care
But we care (but what will we do when we're sober?)
Ah, when you dream with the fever
Bet you wish you could touch our rush
But what will we do when we're sober?
THREE HOURS LATER:
"You asleep?" Kurda murmured, knowing the answer. Even from the far side of the bed he could feel how tense Mika was. He couldn't blame him. This was a weird situation and he was prone to insomnia at the best of times.
"What do you think?" Came the snarky reply.
"Do you need anything?" Kurda ventured.
"Tranquilizer dart." Mika grunted.
/ Gods you're a fucking idiot. /
"Fresh out of those, sorry."
"Can't you just run to the store and get me one? Otherwise what's the point of living in town?"
/ But you're my fucking idiot. Or, you were. /
"Gods, I forgot his funny you were." Kurda sighed.
"No you didn't."
/ As if I could. /
"No, I didn't..." Kurda murmured. He looked over at Mika, who was laying on his front, with his arms folded beneath his pillow and his head turned away from Kurda.
"Seriously, do you need a warmer blanket or something?" Kurda tried again.
"I don't have a problem with the damn blanket. Did you really think I could just lie down next to you after six years of whatever the fuck that was, and fall asleep like it's nothing?"
Kurda didn't even realize he was doing it, his hand reached out of its own accord, across the empty space between them and came to rest on Mika's back. Mika flinched as if he'd been hit, and whipped around to fix Kurda with a murderous glare. Kurda recoiled, wincing apologetically.
/ I shouldn't have done that. /
"I said don't fucking touch me, Kurda." Mika snapped.
"Old habits. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking." said Kurda quietly.
"Well, think." Mika shot back. His tone was strange, there was a subtle layer of sadness and hurt amidst the obvious anger.
"Okay." Kurda breathed as Mika rolled over on his back to stare mutely at the ceiling. "I'm thinking about all the times years ago when you'd lay awake the night before an important meeting, or a big negotiation... how I'd rub your back until I felt all that stress melt away and you'd fall asleep in my arms. And I knew there was nowhere else I'd rather be than there with you. That's what I'm thinking about."
He heard Mika exhale shakily but he didn't speak for several minutes.
"Think about something else." He said at last.
"You don't think I tried that?" Kurda replied gently. "You don't think I try my damnedest not to think about all those memories from the good years? Or the million tiny, random, stupid little things that made me fall in love with you over and over again? My life doesn't look like yours, Mika. Not that it ever did, but even less so these days. I don't have distractions like you do. I don't have a purpose. I have nothing but those memories."
Mika turned his head just far enough that their eyes could meet. His eyes bore that haunted, tortured look he'd worn in the tiny meeting room behind the Hall of Princes when he'd laid out the rules of Kurda's exile following the trial.
"You had everything. You fucking had everything." Said Mika. "And you lit it up and watched it burn."
"I had no choice. There was no way around it. I'm running out of words to explain that t you." Kurda sighed wearily.
"Can't you stop trying to justify it to me, even now? Can't you just let me resent the fact that it happened at all?"
"You have every right to resent it. You should hate me." Kurda murmured.
"Yeah, I should. But we figured out a long time ago that I can't." Mika muttered bitterly.
"Then that's the only thing you've ever failed at." Said Kurda stiffly.
"I know you were backed into a corner, or you felt like you were. Same difference. I get it. I hate that you did it, and I want to say I would've done it differently in your shoes but for all we know I would've done the same thing." Mika added. His tone was soft and fairly relaxed given the circumstances but he still had that look in his eyes. That look nobody else in the world would've picked up on but as always, Kurda could clearly see there was so much more bubbling under the surface than Mika would ever let on.
The first time Kurda figured out there was more to him than met the eye was within the first year they had Gracie. She got sick. It wasn't life-threatening but it was terrifying. Between that and clan stuff (they were on the brink of Council opening) Mika went almost 4 days without sleep and imploded into an anxious, unhinged wreck because he couldn't escape the compulsive need to be everything everyone needed him to be. Couldn't ask for help, refused to delegate, refused to be anything but unbreakable with so many eyes on him.
So when he did fall apart back then, it was behind closed doors. Kurda was only there because Gracie was there, but he was there nonetheless. So it was Kurda who spent an hour gently coaxing Mika to take an evening, just one evening off to take care of himself and get some damn sleep until he finally relented. And even then, Kurda lay on the floor next to his coffin as he slept because he was certain if he left the room, Mika would just pop back up and get back to work because that was just how his brain was wired. He couldn't help it.
They weren't a couple back then, that wasn't even on the radar. They barely liked each other and they only tolerated each other because they'd both fallen head over heels in love with the tiny orphan who now depended on them to cooperate for her sake. But that was enough for Kurda to break down Mika's heavy mental barriers, the first of many times.
"I'm sure you would've found a better way, Mika." Kurda whispered at last, his voice cracking. "I'm sure you would've walked right up to Desmond Tiny's doorstep and told him to shove his doomsday prophecies back up his asshole where they came from. And you know what? He probably would've listened to you! Because you're Mika Fucking Ver Leth. And you're better than this. Better than this futile war. Better than the senseless violence. Better than the lies, better than the knife I put in your back. And you're so much better than lying in this bed with me right now. Gods, I just... I don't... fuck, Mika! You shouldn't be here! I shouldn't even be here! I wish you'd all just executed me when you had the chance!" He had to force the last few words out. His throat felt like he'd swallowed a bottle of acid. There was a long, weighty pause.
"Yeah, well... I wish your plan had worked." Mika croaked out after an eternity of silence.
Kurda didn't remember the moments after that. His mind was completely blank. But suddenly the empty space between them had been closed and Mika was on top of him, kissing him fiercely, hungrily, like he always used to in the good years but somehow with more intensity than ever before. And Kurda was kissing him back lustfully, almost desperately as though his life depending on maintaining the spark that had started without warning after going cold for seven years.
Which of them started it, he'd never know. Maybe they'd both ignited it at the exact same second. All they knew was that suddenly they were grinding their bodies together, tongues down each other's throats, feverishly undressing each other though it was a timed event. They didn't speak; they didn't have to. The only sounds in the whole world, as far as they knew, was the roar of the blizzard outside and the ragged gasps, whimpers, and moans that escaped as they hurriedly reconnected in all the intimate ways that were only distant memories before now. They were rough with each other, undoubtedly they'd both have bruises tomorrow. Neither of them gave a fuck.
Kurda knew this was a bad, bad idea. He knew Mika knew it too. But it was becoming increasingly obvious that Mika still had Kurda's body memorized even now. He knew all the things Kurda liked, the things he loved, and the things that drove him absolutely fucking wild until he was moaning incoherently, the noises barely muffled as he pressed his face against Mika's collarbone.
"We shouldn't..." Kurda managed to gasp as they rapidly approached the point of no return. But even as he spoke those words he tightened his grip around Mika's back and rocked against him even harder.
"Tell me to stop and I will. Just say the word." Mika muttered back breathlessly as his lips brushed up and down Kurda's neck just lightly enough to drive him out of his mind with impatience. Kurda responded by kissing him back even more hungrily, running his hands down his back, and finally digging his fingertips into Mika's hipbones, pulling him closer and wordlessly telling Mika exactly what he wanted and how he wanted it.
And it sure as hell wasn't "stop".
Oh God, I'm closing my teeth
Around this liquor-wet lime
Night, lose my mind
I know you're feeling it too
Can we keep up with the ruse?
B-bodies all through my house
I know this story by heart
Jack and Jill got fucked up and possessive
When they get dark
The fire that started between them ended in the most stunning finale either of them had ever experienced, and that was saying something seeing as back in the happy years they'd been pretty good at this kind of thing. Kurda knew he'd be sore tomorrow and was certain Mika would be too. But right now his body felt as limp and relaxed as if he'd never known a day of stress in his life. And he expected Mika would be feeling the same way so he didn't give him much thought at first. This wasn't like before. There was no need to cuddle, or lean into each other and murmur tired compliments. The deed was done. Should it have happened? Nope. Had it given him the release he didn't even know he'd been craving? Damn right.
But something else was off. It struck Kurda as odd that Mika didn't seem to have a self-congratulatory remark for this one. No backhanded compliment. That wasn't like him.
One of the pros of being in a relationship with Mika: he was good in bed.
One of the cons of being in a relationship with Mika: he knew he was good in bed, and he wanted you to know he knew.
Sure times change, but for him to be silent right now was uncharacteristic nonetheless. Kurda opened his eyes and looked over at him. He was laying on his side, facing away from Kurda. Once again as close to the edge of the bed as he could get, putting as much space between himself and Kurda as he could. That in itself was neither here nor there. But it occurred to Kurda that, rather than slowing down, Mika's breathing seemed to becoming more rapid, erratic even. He'd seen this before and it never ended well.
/ I knew I should've shut it down.../
"Hey." Kurda murmured, his voice low and gravelly with concern. He cautiously reached out and for the second time that night he laid his palm against Mika's back. "What's wrong?"
Mika was unresponsive at first.
"Talk to me, Mika." Kurda insisted. "Are you okay?"
"We shouldn't have done that... fuck... why did I fucking do that?!" Mika muttered, his voice sounding constricted. Kurda felt a jolt of alarm, how could this be the same man who had him pinned down and seeing stars just minutes ago?
/ Come on, babe... don't do this to yourself. I'm not worth it. /
"Was it that bad? I know I'm out of practice but I thought I did fine." Kurda replied softly, making a point of keeping his tone light. The words sounded funny on his lips, it was the type of comment Mika normally made.
"That's not what I mean!" Mika groaned, rolling back over to face Kurda.
"I know it's not." Said Kurda steadily. "And you're right, we shouldn't have done it. But we did it. It's over now. And it won't happen again. So don't spiral, okay?"
"I'll spiral if I fucking want to, Kurda!"
Kurda rolled his eyes despite himself. Now Mika sounded more like himself again.
"Gods, you're impossible." He murmured. "Come here."
He expected Mika to recoil again like he had earlier but to Kurda's surprise, Mika didn't put up a fight as Kurda gently pulled him over into his arms. The fact that he rested his head on Kurda's chest and closed his eyes felt like progress. Although Kurda wasn't sure they were supposed to be making progress.
"I was only supposed to drop off the letter and leave... none of this was supposed to happen... fuck... can't believe... so fucking stupid." Mika whispered, seeming to be talking more to himself than Kurda. But for the second time that night, the sudden burst of panic didn't escalate into a full-scale attack and Kurda was grateful for that much.
"Don't do go down that road." Kurda whispered. "Just forget it ever happened."
"I don't want to forget." Mika croaked. "I should, but I don't. This is the fucking problem! I got over you once already. It took me years, but I did it. And now... back at square one. I'm so fucking stupid..."
"You're the farthest thing from that. Just rest now. You're going to be fine. I promise you." Kurda whispered, running his fingertips up and down Mika's back. Finally, Mika slowly began to relax his body until he was limp in Kurda's arms.
/ And I know you don't believe me, but it's true. You'll see. /
Kurda silently reflected on the memory of the last time they held each other like this, except their positions were reversed. Kurda had been on his way up from the tunnels just hours after murdering Gavner Purl and the shock and remorse were just too much and he collapsed on the floor unable to walk and barely able to breathe. And it was just his luck that Mika had to be the one to stumble across him. They hadn't been on good terms then, yet Mika dropped everything to take care of Kurda until it passed because he knew all too well what it felt like.
He didn't know how much time had passed, but eventually he realized Mika had fallen asleep there, his head resting on Kurda's chest. Finally his weary, conflicted soul had found peace, even if only for a few hours.
Only then did Kurda join Mika in the distant land of slumber.
When Kurda woke up, it took him a minute for the previous night's memories to come jolting back but when they did, he felt a pang of guilt. He slowly stretched without opening his eyes, and reached to the left where Mika had been sleeping. But all he felt was a cool sheet. He opened his eyes in dismay and realized Mika was gone. He got up and wandered to the kitchen, desperately hoping he'd see him there, maybe eating entire package of bacon or slurping coffee straight out of the pot. It was the simple little things like that Mika would do without a second thought, and then look at Kurda with this baffled expression as though Kurda was the crazy one for laughing. But it had been years since they'd laughed like that, and it quickly became apparent that Mika was GONE gone.
He'd left a note on the kitchen table:
K -
Had to leave. That was way too much.
Found an unopened box of cookies. Took it with me for the road. Hope that's ok. If not... I don't care and I'm not sorry.
Thanks for taking care of me, I guess.
Stay well. See you when I see you.
- M.
Okaaayy guys, I hope that lived up to your expectations! Once again, I know this reunion was a fucking mess but I Did That On Purpose. And rest assured I'm gonna Do It Again in the next chapter.
Please drop a heart or a comment. I absolutely live for your feedback!
Also, I want to say thanks for the positive feedback I received about Gracie's character after the previous chapter! Personally I don't much care for OCs so I always feel self-conscious when I write them myself. So once again, thank you so much. You guys are amazing.
Mika's version of this is FINISHED and will be up probably tomorrow! All the dialogue is identical but the thoughts and commentary are very different. The inner workings of Mika's wild and wonderful brain are my very favourite things to write about, so I'm extra excited to share it.
Thanks for reading! Again, feedback is everything... so, please?
Love you guys!
- Roxy