Vomir, 2022
He sits on the border of the lake with his feet dangerously close to getting wet. Dangling in. A few steps and he would be inside, under water.
He chuckles. How funny was it that falling in didn't matter anymore?
His suit no longer looked as black as before. It was ragged and too warm and too cold at the same time and he just wanted to take it off and put it back on all the time. Stark had lied, the suit hadn't last forever.
He looks up at the cliff ahead. Maybe he'd see her this time. The real her.
The reflection in the water is looking back at him when he goes to get up and he feels a tightness on his chest, spreading. He kicks the water in frustration, watching the ripples it causes. It's not the face he wants to see.
He's up now and he knows that there isn't anywhere else to go but the already known cliff in the hill up ahead, surrounded by mist and hot air.
Everything is too purple. Everything is purple because they couldn't even give him the right colour to remind him of her. And he just despises purple now. And he despises the dryness on his lips and the one thousand little rocks that get stuck inside his boots every time he tries to walk to another place that looks just the same as the ones he walks away from. He's on a broken planet. And there's no way out.
Maybe he'd make it this time.
He climbs up the hill and looks at the dirty bandages that remain on his hands. They hurt him. Looking at them hurt him. And like everything else in that despicable place that hurt him, he was required to retain them.
A voice pops in his head telling him he has done the bandages wrong and that he needs to take a 101 on taking care of himself. And he hates it again because the voice doesn't even sound like hers anymore. It's just a sound wave with no sound, but he stills hears it and he knows he's going crazy. And he wants to hear it and he wants to see her, and he never does. Afterlife was weird like that, you can't retain the ones you love, but you can retain dirty cloths. Serves him right.
He used to be so bad. When they started. He used to be so lost. And how cruel was it, that after he'd gotten it right, after he'd found a way, he'd literally gotten back to being lost. On a forsaken purple planet. But they couldn't have known. Nobody could have known that they would have to sacrifice one of them to be able to save the world. And nobody could have known the last thing he would have told her would have been about waffles.
He stopped in his track. How long had that been? He could swear he was still in his 30's, but he's so tired he could be 60. He sighs. His body ached and he felt like crying.
They had arrived to the the planet with a simple goal in mind. Get the stone, go back, save the world, save her, his world. And then they understood what it entailed. And he wanted to give up then and scream and kick the air and all the rocks in his path. Because he understood that he would never let one of his teammates, his family, fall to his death. And the fact remained, he didn't. And he knew right then that he would never see her again. That they would make it, she would be safe but he would never see her again, he wouldn't be there when she got back. So that's what he did.
His cheek burned slightly and he realised water was coming out of his eyes. He wiped it up and looked down. Those bloody rocks, always surrounding him.
- You know, this could be a love story. But it's not. – he knows he's talking to the floor but he just doesn't care anymore. He drops down and looks at all of the little rocks. Even they look purple. He picks up one. The one that looks the less like purple. And he gets up again.
The man with the stance of a broken boy breathes in deep, looks ahead and keeps on moving closer to the cliff. It bothers him no less than it had the first time.
- There is still a boy and there is still a girl. But there's also another girl and another boy and another and another. And they don't necessarily match up with each other, if you follow my drift.
The sound of him moving was the only thing that could be heard.
- There is a team. One made of boys and girls and gods and goddesses. - He feels a tightness in his throat as he speaks, one he still today refuses to call by its given name. - There was a team. And it was so fun. And the boys and the girls, the gods and goddesses... they just worked. And they took in the lost boy and they gave him a life. Full of wonders, madness, adventures and love.
He kicks a rock. Just another one in that rocky hell he had been in for so long now he had lost count. There was a team. But if it had been up to him, it would have been a team made of ghosts, those that can't feel the impact of a bullet or knifes any more. One made of spectrums that couldn't bleed. Maybe if he had become a ghost, he could have seen her one last time.
- This is not a love story. Even if she was a girl, a goddess and someone made of bones and blood and particles all the same. I can always feel her staring at me, from across the... well - he looks around - ... it wouldn't be across the room anymore would it.
And he misses her. He misses her so bad and he made his choice, and he knows it was the right one, but he still misses her. And god dammit he wants to hold her so bad and he's so full of so many feelings that it makes it hard to breathe. They couldn't have known that it was all a test. They couldn't have known that the sacrificed one would have had to live on a never ending cycle. But that's what he was doing. He was alive. He just wasn't living. And nobody knew he was there.
And he wants to be the most selfish person in the world; he wants to take back that retched decision and to let the world burn. To let someone else fall. Because the world has just been unkind. And how unkind he wanted to be right back at it.
He feels his chest tightening again and stops. He does wonder, from time to time, what would have happened if the team had known what they would have to do. Would Steve sacrifice himself? He had always been the go to less selfish person on the team.
He takes the remaining steps into the border of the cliff and stops once more.
- Hi rock, my name is Messer and yours is? – he takes the small rock up to his face and looks at it like it was the last thing he'd ever see. – Rock The Fifth it is then. – he knows he's going crazy, he knows the rock won't reply to him just like it had never replied all the other times he'd try. But maybe this time it would work, maybe this time he's not imagining it and this rock is different, it has some other colour than purple in it and it's a sign that he can finally see her again.
– I'm Messer, you're rock. And you know what? – his shoulders slump down as he tries to breathe in while looking to the bottom of the cliff. – I'm an Avenger. I was an Avenger.
The rock falls from his hand as he takes a step into the void. Messer falls and it's the longest drop in the world and it looks like it won't ever end just like that miserable planet never does. He remembers the last time he'd fallen without an end. How scared he'd been and how she had given him her hand. And he remembers how good that had felt and he knows, he's never getting it back.
Messer closes his eyes. And then there's a big splash, as he falls in the dark water and accepts what comes next.
The wind blows once. There's silence.
On top of the cliff, the small rock rolls away to the bottom. It rolls and keeps on rolling until it hits the border of a lake. Only silence remains.
Vomir is a lost cause. Its air makes it harder to breathe and there is no sign of life anywhere. It's the beginning and the end of a cycle that never ends.
There's only purple and despair in sight.
And if you'd ask any rock around, they would tell you the story of a man, no longer a boy, that got stuck with them and about how many times he'd jumped.
But they can't speak and there is no one around, so there is no story to tell.
A gasp comes out of someone in the surface of the water trying to get air into his lungs. He looks around and there it is, that bloody rock.
Messer punches the water and hides his face behind his hands.
- Fuck, not again.