A/N : NOTE! This was published as a solo bit, but was intended originally for this one shot series, so I am just posting it again in the compilation, because I realize that if I don't I will eventually be missing a planet and that will irritate me to no end. I am sorry.
Warnings! : NedGer. Lots of mountaineering, though you don't really need to understand it I guess for the 'oh shit' moments. For some reason, my headcanon Netherlands is a mountain climber. This was written in quarantine in Tbilisi when I couldn't go to K2 base camp like I was supposed to. I was channeling my rage. XD
NEPTUNE
Abel had been far too ambitious his entire life, and so naturally he fallen in love with a man who was equally motivated to achieve greatness.
Their ideas of greatness had been very different in the beginning, but once Abel had successfully charmed Ludwig right off of his feet and into his arms, they had found out that they could share quite the love of the outdoors.
Abel was a mountain climber by hobby, and had steadily coaxed tentative Ludwig from hiking in the mountains to scaling them instead. Had led him farther out each time, just a bit, and Ludwig had always kept up quite well with him. The first official peak that Ludwig had summited with Abel was Jungfrau, which wasn't by any means a technical climb, but it was a spectacular feeling all the same, to stand there at the top with Ludwig and watch him staring out at the horizon with awe.
That feeling, that rush of adrenaline, that sensation that came from summiting—Abel had found nothing else that could ever compare, and he could see from the look on Ludwig's face that first time that he had felt the same.
It had become as much a hobby for Ludwig after that, and immediately upon returning home, Ludwig had turned to Abel and asked, eagerly, "So what's next?"
Abel had loved Ludwig's bravery, his willingness to push the limits, his eagerness to put himself out there physically and mentally. Had known, in some way, that Ludwig had been meant for him, the moment they had met. Just felt it, he swore it, the very second he had first laid eyes on Ludwig.
Their love story was a good dinner conversation, he supposed.
'Yeah, I met him while jogging in the park. His German Shepherd tried to eat me and he said he would buy me a beer to apologize, but I was interested in something else and so I ended up taking him for a beer, and then the next thing I knew we were in the backseat of my car, and now we climb mountains together.'
Certainly interesting, to some people.
The dog, at least, no longer attempted to eat Abel, and had become more of a huge lap dog. They sat together on the couch at night, Ludwig rested against his chest and the dog splayed out atop the both of them, and always they chatted about where they would go next. Abel broke Ludwig into mountaineering slowly, but Ludwig took to it quickly, and perhaps was a bit too ambitious.
It did make Abel think...
There were fourteen peaks upon the Earth above 8000 meters, and Abel's longtime dream had been to summit every single one of them. Had only been a dream, had never really thought he would get that far, because it was just a hobby after all, but now that he had someone by his side that suddenly shared that enthusiasm, he was emboldened and more determined to make it a reality.
Abel had created a little map, and pinned it up to the wall in the living room. Ludwig looked at it, curiously, and Abel had been very quick to explain it to Ludwig and let him in on his great lifelong dream.
Ludwig had gaped at him incredulously.
For a while, at least, but when Ludwig and Abel had climbed Mont Blanc and made it to the summit with little trouble, Ludwig had gone back home with a newfound sense of determination, because it had been Ludwig that had turned to Abel soon after and said, "Let's get visas and grab Mt. Elbrus!"
Abel was absolutely head over heels for Ludwig by then. Was gonna marry this man one day, he swore it, was the one for him, for sure.
When Elbrus fell to them, that was when Ludwig began looking at that map Abel had made more seriously. Contemplating it.
Abel came up behind him as he studied it one night, wrapped arms around Ludwig and kissed his neck, and Ludwig asked, a bit breathlessly, "Ha— You think we can make it up Everest one day?"
Abel had scoffed.
"If we do this," Abel murmured, aggressively groping Ludwig as Ludwig squirmed, "Everest will be the first."
Ludwig made a noise of disbelief.
Abel wasn't kidding.
Everest was easy; everyone knew that. May have been the tallest, but was by no means the most difficult, and that was why Abel had chosen that to be their first 8000er. Ludwig had thought he was crazy, at first, but after Abel had given him a very long, very detailed lecture, astute Ludwig had very quickly picked up on the fact that maybe Abel wasn't so crazy after all.
Abel had said to Ludwig, 'The scariest thing about Everest is the price!'
That was the damn truth—they saved for years before they could afford all of the permits. It was criminal, as far as Abel was concerned, but no good mountaineer could ever just pass up Everest because it was overrated.
He and Ludwig had saved and saved, and Ludwig had always seemed rather astounded in some way, as if he couldn't believe he was really going to do this. Abel wasn't worried about Everest itself so much as becoming destitute in the attempt to conquer it.
Standing on the very top of the Earth was worth the price, in the end.
It was, of course, and they did it. They saved up enough, they got lucky with weather, they escaped avalanches by mere days, and although Ludwig had been nervous as hell for the first few days, they scaled Everest, made the summit very easily, and descended with no problems. It had actually almost been too easy, really, and Ludwig's confidence had been extremely high. Their first time in the Death Zone, and they escaped unscathed.
It was a little disappointing, though, because the weather hadn't been the greatest and the horizon had been cloudy. Misty.
They scaled Lhotse while they were there, because there was no sense in wasting the opportunity.
Ludwig was elated when they went home, lying in bed at night with his hands behind his head and smiling away at nothing. Abel fed off of his excitement, his newfound passion, and was beyond delighted that he had found a partner that could truly share all of his interests. Not too many people, after all, were willing to join their significant other on a potentially very fatal date.
So Abel kissed Ludwig's cheek then, and whispered, earnestly, "Next time, we'll climb Nanga Parbat, and then Gasherbrum."
Ludwig turned to look at him, and knew well enough by then all of the peaks and statistics to know that that venture would be a thousand times more difficult, and far more dangerous. A much higher chance of never coming down.
But Ludwig was brave, and said, "I'll go. If you really think we can do it."
"I know we can do it," Abel had immediately assured. "And if we—"
He trailed off, feeling jittery and excited, trying to express something he had long thought about but had been too frightened to voice aloud. Something he desperately wanted but was also terrified of.
Ludwig pressed, "What?"
Took him a long while to gather his nerve, and finish, lowly, "If we come back down from both of them, then I wanna— I wanna marry you."
Ludwig sat up at the waist at that in shock, and Abel had been damn terrified as Ludwig had gawked at him.
By then, they had been together for six years. Didn't seem like such a bad idea, didn't seem so outrageous really, so Ludwig's stunned look had shaken Abel's confidence.
Abel opened his mouth, very much intending to backtrack, to say he was just joking, really, but didn't get the chance before Ludwig quite literally pounced upon him, kissing him so furiously that Abel was pretty sure Ludwig had split his lip. A long, breathless minute, and when Ludwig pulled back and Abel could breathe, he immediately croaked, weakly, "So! Was that a 'yes'?"
A very guttural rumble.
"Hell yeah."
Ludwig kissed him again and disappeared down under the blanket shortly after, and Abel was pretty damn stupefied, clenching Ludwig's hair in his fingers and wondering if he was off dreaming somewhere.
Two years later, they had saved up enough to try their hand at more challenging mountains.
Every summit was harder and harder, but Abel was striving to live a dream and Ludwig was just determined to see how far he could push himself.
They worked well together.
They conquered Nanga Parbat, and then Gasherbrum II, but missed the chance for good enough weather to nab Gasherbrum I. Abel was undeterred, and it had become a bit of an obsession for the both of them, and they saved every bit of money they could as often as they could.
They only spent money after that when Abel fulfilled his promise to marry Ludwig when they descended Nanga Parbat alive and well. Nothing special by any means, just a few friends, but it was one of Abel's happiest moments. The way Ludwig smiled at him that night, when Abel very dramatically scooped him up and walked him through the threshold in a ridiculously pompous manner; that was the closest Abel had come to feeling that high he got from summiting in some other manner.
It took three more years before they went back to Nepal to grab Makalu and Manaslu. They climbed those alone, for the first time, and went with no dedicated group. Just him and Ludwig, relying on each other, and it was a hell of a lot harder, but also so much more rewarding, so much more thrilling.
They had no incidents there, their confidence was overflowing, but then came Annapurna.
Why they chose that one then, they could never really have said, since Annapurna was the second most dangerous mountain in the world, and they trekked it alone, just the two of them, instead of going with a group and a guide. Beyond bold of them, but their successes had stoked their egos perhaps.
On the slopes of that siren was where they first ran into true trouble, and it was the closest either of them had ever come to death.
Everything had started off great, as it always had until then. They had ascended in good weather, made the summit, despite it being the hardest climb yet, reveled in yet another victory, and then came the hard part as they began their descent.
They went alone, yes, but other climbers had been visible ahead of and behind them. Saw a small group of them far down below, as they made their way down a ridge, and that was when that awful sound had risen up, that rumble, that horrible, hair-raising rush, and they had shared a wide-eyed look of terror, knowing in a second what was coming.
An avalanche, rushing down at them from above. No time to think; they reacted instinctively, Abel shoving Ludwig as hard as he could towards a wall of rock and then hunkering down himself, and he managed to slam his ice axe at the last second into the rock for leverage.
The last thing he saw was Ludwig across the way, staring at him in fear, and then everything was white.
They were still tethered to each other, and the rope was pulled tight and painful.
The scariest minutes of his life, hidden in that cloud of snow as it broke over the rocks and rushed all around them, as it flew up into the air and obscured all vision. He was protected for a while there, as the rocks shoved off the snow around him, but then it was too powerful and it came surging, and the roped suddenly dragged him, knocking him off and down the slope.
The craziest moment of his life, caught up in snow like that and tumbling down. Not far at all, not at all, but damn if it didn't feel like eternity until he was slammed into the other rock outcrop right below the one he had taken shelter under.
He just struck out blindly with his axe, it hooked on something, and he held on for dear life as the snow broke all around it.
Whiteout.
Minutes had never dragged so long.
When the roaring subsided, when the avalanche passed, when the great white cloud fell still and began to dissipate, Abel opened his eyes and looked around in terror. Didn't see Ludwig at first, but was very painfully aware that his ice axe was lodged in the crack of the rocks, he was clinging to it like a vice, and the rope around him was entirely slack.
Severed.
Holy shit—
Hanging on then above the slope by his fuckin' axe. If he slipped, if he dislodged, then he was riding that steep snow slope straight down to the edge of the cliff and from there straight to heaven. No stopping it, woulda been sliding too fast to stop himself by any means.
He was desperate to figure out where Ludwig was, but first thing was first, and he swung his feet forward, just barely managing to slam his crampons into the snowy rocks to get enough of a grip to stay there without his axe sliding out. The worst possible angle, his feet farther in front of his head than his arms, no good traction at all, but he was still hanging tight.
He had just enough of a foothold to lower one hand from his axe and grasp desperately on his belt for a cam, but his damn hand was shaking so bad he barely managed to grab it all. Too much weight for one arm, and he was more than a little panicked when he blindly jammed the cam up towards the rocks and into the first gap he saw, praying to god it would fucking hold—
It did.
He reclaimed the axe in both hands, panting through his mouth in a fright as the last of the mist began to settle. Adrenaline was overflowing, mixed with dread and terror. The horizon cleared, and Abel glanced over, briefly, and saw a flash of green. An awful jolt of his heart, and he tossed his head back to see as best he could, calling, shrilly, "Ludwig! Hey!"
No answer.
The snow cloud faded more and more, the green became clearer, and goddamn, Abel almost wished it hadn't, because when he could see clearly, Ludwig had also been thrown back over the edge of the rocks, hanging there like Abel by his axe, but there was no foothold for him. Caught on a jagged edge with no possible way of planting his feet. Just clinging tightly to his axe in terror, staring up at it as it hung there on the very edge, extremely precariously. The slope beneath Ludwig was far farther down, and rocky. Falling from where he was mighta killed him before he could slide down and over the cliff.
A distance in between them. The rope had been cut in two on the rocks. Helpless there across the white void.
Ludwig was hanging onto his axe, death beneath him if he slipped; damn if that didn't give Abel the kick in the ass he needed to catch his breath and once more lower his hand, this time to grab his rope and clumsily try to tether himself to the cam before either Ludwig's grip slipped or his axe did.
As he looped the rope, he called to Ludwig, sternly, "Hey! Listen here! Look at me! Don't look up at it, just keep looking at me, I'm coming! I'm on my way! Hey—you hear me?"
A long awful silence, and then Ludwig's shrill, terrified cry back at him.
"Yeah! Hurry up!"
"I'm moving as fast as I can," he assured, promptly fuckin' slipping in his fear and losing his foothold for a second, but not just before attaching that rope and locking it in.
When he was securely hooked in, he looked around to gather his bearings, trying to figure out how the hell he was gonna make it to Ludwig. Couldn't reach him straight on. Would have to climb atop that jagged edge where Ludwig hung and lower himself down and hook him in.
And fast.
He was already moving, resting his weight on the rope and yanking the axe out of the rock to swing it over to the side, and he started edging himself along.
As he went, he tried to keep Ludwig calm, tried to keep Ludwig focused on him, but Ludwig's eyes were glued to his axe in utter terror, and Abel couldn't really blame him but bitched at him for it anyway.
"Hey! I said look at me! I'm on my way. I'm not that far, see? Look at me! Stop lookin' at that damn axe. Ain't gonna make it anywhere like that! Hold still. Be still. Don't move. Hey! Look at me! I look a hell of a lot better than that axe, eh?"
A twitch of Ludwig's head in Abel's direction, as he came closer and closer, planting the rope as he went. God, Ludwig was so close, so close, just needed to hang on for a few more minutes and Abel would be above him.
Ludwig was panting, clinging to that axe for literal dear life, but he wouldn't last too much longer like that. Had never seen Ludwig's eyes so damn wide. His goggles had been lost in the slide, and at a glance Abel realized that so had all of his equipment. Damn—could anything else go wrong?
When Abel started moving up, trying to get to the top of the outcrop, Ludwig stared in horror at him, and Abel could see that he was sliding very slowly down the handle of the axe.
Not today, not on this mountain, no way, wasn't time yet—
"Hey!" Abel called, as he moved as quickly as he could, "Hey! You remember, I told ya when we made it down Nanga Parbat, we'd get married, and that's what we did! Huh? So! What do you want, huh? We make it down this fuckin' mountain alive, what do you want? Huh?"
He reached the top of the rock, hooked himself in and readied himself to descend.
A long, horrible silence, and then Ludwig said, in a very thin, high-pitched voice, "A divorce!"
Abel barked a laugh at that, trying damn hard not to cry, and started going down as Ludwig ever slipped.
The scariest goddamn moment of his entire life, creeping down there and falling still beside Ludwig, working fast and desperately and looping rope around him before his grip slipped for good and he fell to his damn death.
Another awful whine.
"Please—hurry! I'm slipping!"
One more loop, just one more—
"Abel!"
Carabiner wouldn't fuckin' cooperate with him, goddammit—
"ABEL!"
"Got it!" he cried, and not a damn second too soon, as Ludwig lost his grip on the axe and fell, straight into the rope and hanging there below Abel.
"Holy shit!" Ludwig cried, wrathfully, as he clung to the rope and stared up at Abel. "You bastard!"
"That's Mr. Bastard to you, baby—damn! Was that good timing or what?"
Ludwig was not amused, and Abel managed to reach out just enough to grab Ludwig's axe and dislodge it, before they lowered themselves carefully down.
When their feet were on snow, held in by rope and secure, Abel grabbed Ludwig up, pushed their foreheads together, and even though he was pretty excited that they had survived that, they weren't anywhere close to being safe.
Ludwig knew that, too, and clung furiously to Abel for a second of comfort.
Half the rope they should have, exhausted and sore, and missing one pair of goggles. Still halfway up the mountain. Not a good position by any means, and they couldn't stop for a minute to figure anything out because half of their supplies were gone and Ludwig was gonna go snow-blind before long without his goggles.
All Abel could do was pull back, pat Ludwig's arm encouragingly, and say, "Hey. We can't die yet, huh? You gotta make it all the way to base if you want that divorce."
Ludwig scoffed, lifted his chin, and grumbled, "Then let's hurry."
They hurried.
Their rope was limited, so Abel had no choice but to backtrack and collect it all, as Ludwig buried his axe in the ice and held himself there, braced and ready in the event Abel slipped. He didn't, and they made their slow descent, one at a time, each going out as far ahead as they could, laying the rope, and then the other following, taking up the rope as they passed.
Slow going, passing the goggles back and forth between them.
The sky was darkening.
They reached the camp far too late, too close for comfort, and managed to hunker down with other climbers after explaining what had happened. Safe, at last, with other people. They slept fitfully, Abel clenching Ludwig's hand in a vice the entire night.
And the next evening, when they made it down the mountain, the second their feet hit the level earth beneath them, Abel whirled around, clenched Ludwig to his chest as Ludwig clung to his neck, and they didn't let go of each other for a good damn hour, shaken up and jittery and amazed that they were alive at all.
That had been enough of a near-death experience for anyone.
Abel was so certain, on that shaky cargo plane ride back to civilization, that Ludwig would never climb another mountain ever again, considering that Ludwig hadn't let go of his hand for one single second since they had hit level ground.
Ludwig surely would never climb again. Damn.
So few men survived an avalanche. Their luck had been exceptional, astronomical. Who knew what had happened to the climbers they had seen below prior.
Abel held Ludwig up against his chest in bed every night for weeks, caught up yet in that terror, and yet, somehow, several months later, it was Ludwig who went up to that map in the living room and took up the pen and dramatically crossed off Annapurna with a vindictive huff. Abel watched him, curiously, and was floored and dumbfounded when Ludwig put his hands on his hips and said, lowly, "Which one next...?"
Abel stared at Ludwig in shock, and Ludwig snorted at his expression, lifted his chin, and asked, "What? We're halfway there. You wanna give up now? Seven down, seven to go. I can't believe you're not already planning."
Abel marched up to Ludwig, embraced him, and lifted him clean off the ground in his excitement.
"You crazy son of a bitch," he muttered, voice muffled in Ludwig's shoulder. "You really got a death wish, huh? I fuckin' love you."
Ludwig just smirked.
Shoulda known, really, that fearless Ludwig wouldn't be so easily deterred. ...easily? That didn't sound right, but there it was.
They carried on, and saved.
Years passed, and so did summits.
Outside of their hobby, their lives were perfectly normal and serene. A short moment of grief, when that damn old dog passed away from old age and Ludwig cried for a while. When he was alone, Abel cried a little too, just a little, because after all that mutt had been the reason Abel had met Ludwig to begin with. Abel had waited a year and then surprised Ludwig with a puppy on his birthday, with the very stern order that this dog was not, under any circumstances, to follow in his predecessor's footsteps and attempt to eat Abel.
Ludwig had laughed, and kissed him.
Mountains came and went.
Ludwig never faltered, and they never again experienced another misfortune as they had there on the side of Annapurna. They had been lucky again, fortunate in all things, except for one.
A perfectly clear horizon upon a summit.
Had summited twelve of the fourteen peaks, and had yet to have that perfectly crystal clear horizon that people spoke of, where the curve of the earth itself was visible, mixed into the black of space beyond. Had yet to see it, and coveted it above all else.
On their twentieth anniversary together, there were only two summits left between Abel and completing his dream. Was right there, right in front of him, so close he could already taste it, and Ludwig was also eagerly anticipating it.
Only two left.
Abel had saved the best for last. If only so they would be alive to finish the others.
Broad Peak, and then, the most coveted of all mountains :
K2.
Two grand mountains, directly in front of each other, and although Broad Peak was the much easier climb, they had decided to tackle K2 first, because, hell, if they survived that then they could do anything, and they wanted to be at full strength for that first push.
They weren't getting any younger, although they were by no means old, Ludwig still sitting pretty at thirty-nine and Abel pushing forty-four. Hardly old men, but it was always prudent to be mindful that they weren't teenagers anymore. Hopefully no more hanging above voids by their ice axes.
They waited there at base camp for eleven days, before the weather finally gave them a break and a good forecast.
They loved climbing alone, but because this was the most dangerous thing they ever had or ever would do, Abel turned to Ludwig and asked, the night before the ascent, "Do you want to try to join up with one of these groups?"
A long contemplation, and then Ludwig met his eyes, smiled, and shook his head.
They spent that last night on ground wrapped in each others arms and whispering to each other. As they always did, knowing that it could be the very last time they were together. There was certainly no other kiss as emotional as the one that came the night before the ascent. When they clung to each other the tightest, and Abel always listened to Ludwig's heartbeat beneath his ear as their fingers intertwined.
Making the most of the time they had.
Before dawn, they were awake and getting ready.
Jittery and excited, terrified and elated. The sensations only facing death and glory could really bring out, and Ludwig sometimes shivered and Abel could see the hairs on the back of his neck standing straight out.
There was certainly nothing quite like staring up at the summit of that monster from the ground, and it was really quite horrifying, beneath the excitement, because every so often the wind blew a certain way and they caught the faintest whiff of death. Climbers, or what was left of them, haphazardly buried in the shallow memorial whenever bits of them were found.
Wasn't planning on being one of them, but was aware it could happen all the same.
When they were ready, Abel took a deep breath, turned to Ludwig, and kissed his forehead. Ludwig patted his cheek when he pulled back, one long stare between them, silently telling the other how they felt, and then they put on their goggles and set off.
Abel was the strongest of the two, so he was the trailbreaker, and knew that most of their safety relied on him. A good bit of pressure, when someone else's life rested on his shoulders.
That first day was the easiest, going up a fairly straight-forward steep slope, and their greatest threat on that first stretch was an avalanche. Didn't come, thankfully, and they made it to camp one fairly early and with very high spirits. Setting up their tent was the most annoying part, fighting always against the fierce wind as they were.
Ludwig kissed him that night, and teased him lowly for how messy his hair was.
Trying to sleep with the relentless wind tearing at the tent was the worst, but sleep they did.
The next day, the real work started. A far more difficult climb, this time up rocky edges, sharp drops, slopes that ended with a sheer drop over a cliff, and then the completely vertical climb up the narrow corridor.
A little metal ladder had been frozen into the rock, hanging haphazardly, a huge tangled mess of old ropes mixed into it, and Abel was very careful not to rely heavily upon any of the old equipment left behind, knowing it was weak and could snap. The ladder was just a foothold, just a little bit of assistance to make hooking in easier, and it wasn't safe to rest weight on any of that old gear.
But there were so many damn ropes, and so many colors, many of which matched their own, and Abel just happened to look down between his legs to catch his breath, panting as he was, and spied Ludwig hooking himself in with one hand and clinging to the wrong rope with the other.
An awful jolt of fear, but Abel held his tongue until Ludwig had finished connecting himself so as not to startle him, and when it was safe, he called, "Hey. Wrong rope, babe."
As expected, Ludwig inhaled in a fright, and very quickly found the right rope.
With that little adrenaline rush, they powered through the rest of the chimney climb, and were damn glad to make it to camp two.
Ludwig was jittery, and Abel couldn't fault him. Woulda been, too. That adrenaline, though, was what they thrived on in the end, and that was why they were here.
Tomorrow would be harder yet.
It was very windy that night, violently so, and Ludwig didn't sleep well, keeping Abel awake for his tossing.
As it turned out, tomorrow wasn't hard at all, because the weather was awful, they contemplated, and decided to stay put for the day. Not worth the risk. They hunkered down for another night, annoyed at the delay but knowing it was necessary.
They set out early the next morning, passed a few straggling climbers, and began more rock-wall climbing, very steep and very treacherous. Loose rocks and sharp ravines.
Abel had his own good scare that day, and what a scare! Had been breaking trail and suddenly the snow beneath him just opened up and he tumbled straight down into a crevasse with a cry. He struck out with his axe, missed, and was pretty sure his entire life flashed before his eyes, but Ludwig had been more lucky with his axe, apparently, because the slack snapped and Abel found himself suspended in the air.
He looked down into the void, dumbly, panting and gasping and cursing, and Ludwig screamed at him from above.
Shit, shit, shit—
He tore his eyes from that black abyss beneath, looked up to the sky, and then around. A tug, as Ludwig tried desperately to drag him out, and Abel twisted himself around to face the wall behind him, jammed his axe into the ice, dug his crampons in, and he helped with inertia as Ludwig pulled him back up.
Holy shit, hitting the top and grabbing the edge, pulling himself out of death and back into the world, that was the most incredible feeling.
Goddamn.
He sprawled on his back in the snow when he was out, Ludwig following suit, and they stared at the sky and laughed for a good bit as they came back down from the cloud of fear and tried to screw their heads back on.
Fucking terrifying.
Ludwig pulled himself to his feet, took a deep, shaky breath, and griped, "Damn, you're a heavy bastard."
A hand in his face, and Abel took it, Ludwig hauling him up to his feet.
They shook off the last of their jitters, made their way around the crevasse and up the cliffs, and were yet happier to see camp three. Seemed like more and more of a relief each time, those little bases, as every day tested them more.
It was Abel who didn't sleep well that night, as Ludwig pressed his face into his neck and ran fingers through his hair in a vain attempt to calm him.
The next morning, they were damn exhausted, and Abel's head was killing him. The altitude and stress had gotten to him a little, coupled with that near death. Ludwig seemed bright enough, alert and fairly rested, and Ludwig stared at rough Abel for a while before saying, "I'll break trail today."
This was technically the easiest of the routes, and so Abel had nodded his head.
They set off up the slope, Abel staring ever up at Ludwig and fretting.
This was an easy route, yeah, but was one of the most dangerous. Just a huge, wide, exposed slope of snow that could give way into an avalanche at any moment. Nowhere to hide if it came barreling down at them. Their fate was very much out of their hands and into luck's on this route, and Abel felt sick the whole while, as Ludwig led the way.
Harder and harder to breathe.
It was scary as hell, but they made it with no incidents that day to camp four.
The final camp before the summit.
That night, they lied on their sides, staring at each other, Ludwig's hand on his face and his hand on Ludwig's neck. The next day was the most dangerous, and if they were going to die on this mountain, where they were headed in the morning was statistically where it would happen.
Ludwig's eyes just flitted endlessly over his face, taking him in just in case it was the last time, and Abel did the same.
They didn't speak that night.
Just a few restless hours of sleep, and then, at three in the morning, it was time for them to set out. Had to set out in the dark to make it to the summit with enough time left in daylight to descend. Was very frightening, though, setting out in the pitch black, with only their headlamps as guides. The scariest part was coming, and Abel had had nightmares about it all night.
Surely Ludwig had, too.
They made their way up the rocky face and slopes, and then the sun was rising. At the first pink light of dawn, Abel looked over to the distance, at the vast mountains all around, and felt rather...
Well. Didn't know what it was, exactly. Just his nerves getting to him, no doubt, but the summit was so close, so close, and so he pushed forward, Ludwig right behind him.
The sun rose higher, and eventually they reached the point that they had long feared above all else.
The bottleneck.
Such an innocent name, so unassuming, but it was far from. A narrow little corridor, nearly vertical with a cliff below, the only possible way up to the summit, and above that corridor hung a huge serac, which very frequently broke off and crushed climbers beneath it. Hunks of ice as big as damn cars, houses, just breaking off at random and sweeping away everything beneath them.
Abel fell still there for a few minutes, looking up at it and trying to gather his courage. Had climbed every damn mountain that was worth climbing, and this was the very thing that he had feared in all that time. This huge block of ice above them was the very reason Abel had delayed K2 to be the last mountain.
Deep breaths. Couldn't panic. Couldn't falter. And sure as hell couldn't turn back, not now. They'd come too far, and they were making such good time. They had had no truly unnecessary delays, no injuries, no real trouble.
Couldn't stop.
He looked over his shoulder at Ludwig below, and when Ludwig gave him a thumbs up, Abel steadied himself and carried on.
But oh god!
Stepping underneath that serac made Abel shudder.
He moved as quickly as he could, as fast as was possible without slipping and falling down the cliff, because no one wanted to be under that ice for any longer than needed.
So long, it was so damn long. Every minute felt like eternity.
An hour. Another. Miserable minutes.
Ludwig glanced upwards then, and fell still in a moment of terror. Hell, Abel couldn't blame him at all, because he felt the same. Nothing was more frightening than hanging helplessly by a rope beneath a huge chunk of ice that could break off at any second and take you down with it, and there was no way to avoid it because at the same time you were hanging over a cliff. This very spot was where most deaths on this mountain occurred, and Ludwig was very aware of that.
Ludwig stared for far too long at that serac, and Abel had to spur him on, calling back, "Hey! What have I always said? Look at me instead. I'm way better lookin'. Come on."
Hard breathing through his mouth, but Ludwig eventually refocused and took his gaze back down to his rope.
Abel could safely say, looking back on everything in his life entire, that creeping along under that serac was the most terrifying moment he had ever known. Even more than that avalanche, even more than scrambling down to wrangle a falling Ludwig, even more than falling into that crevasse. Nothing compared to that sheer, palpable dread.
But then came the other side, and suddenly the end of the line. The bottleneck ended, and there was the top, so close. They made for it quite desperately, Abel moving so fast that Ludwig could barely hook himself in before it was time to unhook again and move forward. The summit was there, right there, and with one great step, one stride, one bound, Abel reached it. Reached the summit, the top of the world, reached that goal he had so long aimed for.
He summited K2, and Ludwig came stumbling into his side.
And there, above—
Awe.
There it was!
The deepest possible blue, melding into the black of space itself. A color so saturated it was impossible to ever describe.
Ludwig reached up, and clumsily tore his goggles from his face, gaping wide-eyed into that deep oblivion. Abel was quick to follow suit, however the air stung his eyes. Didn't want anything obscuring his vision, nothing, wanted to see that horizon with total clarity.
Had never had such a pristine horizon, never, had never summited with such a clear view and perfect conditions. It was glorious. The curve of the atmosphere and of the Earth itself.
A man could truly get no closer to heaven than this while alive, and it was everything that Abel had sought out all along, and so much more.
He reached out, grabbed Ludwig around the waist, yanked him in, and kissed him. Ludwig kissed him back quite furiously while digging around in his coat for the camera, because of course there was no better photo than one taken on the top of the Earth. They posed there as everyone did, with their flags and bare faces. Dutiful. Standard. After that, of course, they got out some stress and posed in far more ridiculous manners, making faces at the camera and taunting each other because they were really just little kids at heart. Abel's favorite, though, was him crouching and getting a shot of Ludwig, who held his flag up above him and tried to pose like a dancer with a leg in the air behind him. He failed, miserably, looking more like a dying fish than a ballerina, but they got a good laugh out of it. On Ludwig's end, he rather fancied the photo of Abel faux swan-diving off the summit, arms dramatically out at his sides and bent at the waist.
They stayed there for a good long while, far longer than they should have, a bit longer than an hour and a half, because no one else had come up yet. They played and laughed and posed, really, because they were so goddamn terrified of what came next.
Couldn't wait any longer, though, and the laughter died down.
The summit had been reached, and now came the most dangerous part of the entire ordeal; climbing back down.
Ludwig took heavy, deep breaths, and Abel shook his head to clear it of the terror when they finally started heading back down.
The were halfway down the bottleneck when they finally saw people.
Other climbers were ascending, a rather long line of them, an international group, and as Ludwig and Abel passed them carefully, a few of them asked about the weather on the top. Abel just called back, 'Beautiful!' Not even close to describing it, but didn't know what else to say.
Ludwig just stared at that line of climbers, quietly, and long hours later, when they had finally made it down the bottleneck alive and were alone, Ludwig said, "So many of them. They're moving too slow, don't you think? It's getting late."
Abel agreed, and uttered, "Imagine havin' to be under that serac like that, for hours, waiting on the people ahead of you to hurry up."
Ludwig physically shuddered.
Had been terrifying enough with just the two of them moving as quickly as they could. Couldn't fathom being in a line of fifteen or so people like that, moving so slowly. Every single minute under that ice was one minute too long.
The clouds came rolling in steadily, before they finished reaching camp. The weather turned foul. The wind became brutal. A storm came crashing into the side of the mountain. But they made it, and huddled up in their tent, melting snow into water and replaying the summit in their minds, speaking nonstop about it.
Ludwig looked so happy, and that made Abel happy, when it came down to it.
They had passed the bottleneck twice, the most dangerous part behind them; what could go wrong from here?
They fell asleep feeling on top of the world, literally and figuratively.
When morning came, the weather was less foul. Still windy as always, but the storm had passed. They set out for the third camp, passing two more ascending climbers as they descended. They made great time, and it wasn't even noon when they reached the camp. Other groups were there by then, settling down for the day, and Abel and Ludwig were stopped by a man who came up to them.
"Did anyone else come down with you? Anyone behind you?"
Abel shook his head, and saw that the man was another Dutchman.
"What's wrong?"
"The first half of our group went up to summit yesterday. We were waiting for them to radio from camp four. Haven't heard from anyone yet. We knew they were running late, but..."
"How many?"
"Twelve. It's our group, but we had some Austrians and Japanese join us on the way up. Shit. We'll have to send someone up to look for them before the next storm."
Ludwig and Abel shared a glance, and when they went into their tent, Abel was quiet and pensive. Thinking too much. Knew of course that those missing were the climbers they had passed, heading up so late.
It was Ludwig, though, that finally glanced up and said, "We made good time today. We could go back up, maybe. See if we find anyone. It's still early."
Not their job. An unnecessary risk. Needless danger. Losing even one day was so dangerous, could be deadly, not to mention going back up towards that serac that terrified them so. Couldn't even believe Ludwig was thinking of it at all, the way he had been staring up at it. Their gas supply was getting low, and if they couldn't melt enough water then they'd die of a damn embolism before they could get crushed by that serac. Every climber knew the unspoken rule : no one went back looking for anyone, ever.
But maybe it was the right thing to do, because they had made good time and they were skilled. Wasn't their job, no, but it was always so hard to be objective, to not to sit there and think, 'What if it was me?'
What if it was Ludwig up there, alone? Abel woulda hoped to god that someone would have broken that rule and gone back to look for him.
Damn.
So Abel lifted his head, steeled himself, inhaled, and said, "Let's go. If you're sure."
Ludwig nodded his head.
Unbelievable. Couldn't believe he was even considering it. They had pressed their luck twice under that serac. Going back was insanity.
But back they went, making it rather quickly to camp four. No one there, except for the two Polish climbers they had passed coming down, and they hadn't seen anyone either.
Ludwig and Abel had done some pretty dumb things, admittedly, but going back up then, as late as it was and with low supplies, was by far the dumbest. But they went anyway, because it felt like the right thing to do.
They searched the horizon as they climbed. All of the trail they had broken the day prior was gone, no footsteps at all.
The didn't make it to the bottleneck before the sun set, and that was beyond dumb—that was suicide.
But just when Abel was about to turn around and call it a loss, a little glow of light in the distance caught his eye. He squinted, trying to see through the mist and haze and snow , and realized it was a headlamp. It didn't move at all, so he couldn't say if it was attached to a person and if that person was alive or not, but it was there all the same.
At the same moment Abel inhaled and opened his mouth, Ludwig suddenly said, "Abel! I hear someone over there."
He glanced back, and saw that Ludwig was looking in a completely different direction, and Abel said, "Yeah, but I see someone over there."
They shared a look, and knew they had to make a choice. Not an easy one. Could only choose one. Save one, and lose the other. An impossible decision.
Ludwig gave a short laugh, trembling, and said, "Go get 'em. I'll go for those ones."
"No way in hell," Abel immediately barked. "No way. No splittin' up. We can't do that. We're already pushing it."
An understatement, as that serac hung above them.
Abel was stubborn, but so was Ludwig, and he replied, "I can't. I can't choose. It's not right. We're good, we're damn good, right? Hey, if anyone can get someone off of this mountain, it's you. So go get 'em. We'll meet right back here."
Horror. Terror. Anxiety.
But Ludwig didn't wait for an answer, and Abel's fear was unrivaled when Ludwig suddenly unhooked himself from the rope tethering him to Abel, and set off to the west. Shit—what could he do? Stupid son of a bitch, the stubborn bastard. Abel had no choice, really, but to concede to Ludwig and make his way east to that headlamp.
Hard to focus, worrying so much about Ludwig as he was.
He carefully made his way down the cliff face, far too vertical a climb down for his tastes with no one there to belay him, but, hell. He made it down, miraculously, in one piece, and trudged over to the light. When he reached it, he realized it was indeed attached to a person, but they were buried under snow up to their shoulders. He rushed forward, knelt down, and knew right off those climbers had gotten caught in a serac fall and subsequent avalanche. Poor bastards. He checked the climber, but it was too late for this one. No pulse.
He stood up straight, looked around, place his hands around his mouth, and bellowed, over the furious wind, "Hey! Anyone there? Is anyone alive?"
He listened, carefully, and swore he hard a shrill voice in the distance. Couldn't see any lights, though. He stood still for a moment in uncertainty, torn, and then he was very certain he heard a voice, stronger, and knew there was someone there. He reached down, took the dead climber's headlamp, and started out in search of the voice.
Christ, he'd never been so scared, scaling a cliff wall under a goddamn mountain of loose ice in search of something he couldn't even see, alone in the dark. Had never intended to be out here, not like this, and not on this mountain of all places.
The voice was stronger, clearer, shrieking in a language he didn't understand, and it took him another half hour to find what he was looking for.
Three climbers, two men and a woman, caught there on the side of the cliff, clearly having been swept there by the avalanche. When he came closer, he could see they were the Japanese group. They saw Abel coming and babbled to him in desperation, and he tried to hurry, he really did, because they were tangled up on the rocks above and literally hanging on by threads. No way they could have gotten out of that without cutting their ropes and risking death, in the dark as they were.
What a miserable fuckin' death that woulda been.
He reached them, and tried his best to calm them down even though they couldn't understand each other, and the woman was bawling, sobbing. None of them had headlamps. Must have lost them in the slide. No way they could free themselves with no light. He took the headlamp from his belt, and handed it to the woman in an attempt to get her to stop crying long enough for him to do something useful. It calmed her, a bit, and they helped him as best as they could. He hooked the girl first, and when she was secure, he cut the ropes holding her there, and crept over to the next. Took an hour to get all three of them free, and when they were all hooked in together, they began the journey back.
Oh, god, how was Ludwig? Had he found the other climbers? Hoped his rescue had been a lot easier.
When he was very near where he wanted to be, he heard a terrifying sound.
An awful rumbling. Crashing.
He knew that fuckin' sound, and the cold he felt then was from dread, as everything in him lit up with terror and adrenaline. A serac fall, no doubt, another avalanche.
He sped up, becoming a bit reckless in his desperation.
He reached the bottom of the bottleneck, where they were supposed to meet, and saw nothing. The other climbers stared at him in terror, and Abel looked up, weighed his options, and he pointed downwards, telling the others, sternly, "Go on! Go down. Camp is straight down. Just go slow, real slow, alright?"
They looked at each other, but must have understood a bit of what he was saying, for they nodded and immediately unhooked from him and began their descent, now having a light at least.
He edged himself out to the west, trying to glimpse Ludwig, a headlamp, something, but saw nothing. He once more cupped his hands around his mouth and screamed Ludwig's name. No response. No sounds.
The panic mounted, grew, and he was so tired, so damn tired, his head was killing him, and he was fairly certain that he was getting altitude sickness. So hard to think. To breathe.
An awful creaking suddenly from above. Cracking.
He had enough time to feel terror, enough time to look up and see the next serac fall. Enough time to see the avalanche it caused. Enough time to feel dazed and lost and panicked before the wall of snow hit him. Not as strong as it could have been, nor would have been, being at least the third for certain in such a short amount of time. As it had been once before, Abel got damn lucky, impossibly lucky, and got slammed into and caught up on rocks once more.
The weakness of the avalanche saved his life, but threw him far off course, and when he dug himself out and looked around, he was entirely unfamiliar with his surroundings.
Ludwig was nowhere in sight, and Abel was lost. Entirely alone. Could see no one else around, above or below. No headlamps. Nothing. Just him and the night. The agreement for every climb was that, should this happen, they wouldn't stop and search for the other. Immediate descent, and wait for help. And so, even though it killed him, that was all Abel could do, because that was what Ludwig was doing right now.
Had to be. Had to think that, to believe it, because the other option was unfathomable.
He was by himself, with little rope, having given far too much to the Japanese climbers. Was practically free-soloing now. And that was horrifying beyond all words. That wasn't what they did, that wasn't what he was prepared for, and he doubted his own strength, more so now that he was spent and disoriented. Had been on this mountain far too long now, dehydrated as he was and with no oxygen. Succumbing to altitude sickness.
He was too afraid to try to climb down that cliff with no rope in the dark, and made his choice then; he settled there in between the rocks, using them for shelter from the wind, huddled up, and tried to sleep, in an effort to wait until dawn and try then.
Waiting was as deadly as going blind. A few more hours, likely, and he'd get an embolism and die the same as he would if he slipped and fell.
The wind was merciless, and he lied there, drifting in and out of consciousness and entirely at the mercy of the mountain. Could easily have been buried by another avalanche as he slept.
Somehow, someway, he survived until dawn.
A minor miracle.
He lifted his head, drew his hands beneath him, pushed himself onto his knees, and looked around in a stupor. Damn, that was the most beautiful sunrise he had ever seen. The mountains all around, the clouds pink and orange. Gold. The mist of the mountains caught the light of the sun, flecks of colored light all around. Stunning. It really was.
Just wished Ludwig was there to see it with him. Ah—he was seeing it, surely, just somewhere else. Had to be.
He tried to stand then, and wobbled promptly backwards onto his ass, because he couldn't feel his legs at all. Whew, boy, that free-solo down the cliff sure wasn't looking too hopeful in that moment. He studied his surroundings, saw a slope in the distance that looked far more feasible, gathered up the very last of his strength, and stood again. He caught his balance that time, dizzy as hell, and began making his clumsy way over.
With every long hour that passed, it was getting harder and harder to see. Despite the goggles, he had been here too long, had just expended too much, and was going snow-blind. Just what he needed. He made it to the slope, and started working his way down.
Made it a few more hours, before having his eyes open at all became extremely painful, and the edges of his vision were black. Just couldn't see anymore.
He saw a jutting rock then, in the middle of the snow, and set course for it. He reached it, threw himself down, rested up against it, and removed his goggles. Weren't doing him any good. Nothing was, for that matter.
He was dead. He knew it. Could feel it.
There was no way he was getting off of this mountain.
Accepted it then, as he huddled up under that rock. Could only try to reassure himself that Ludwig had made it down, that Ludwig was alive at least. At least that, just that. Had to take comfort in that thought.
Couldn't see anything, snow-blind as he was, couldn't breathe, couldn't think, and Abel really just sat there then with every intention of that being his eternal resting place. Would probably be found by some other climbers in a few years, frozen in place, face still buried there in his folded arms.
Wondered if Ludwig would one day try to look for him. Hoped not.
He zoned in and out, fading into unconsciousness in intervals.
Garbled noises. Voices on the wind.
Hallucinations, no doubt.
He faded, hanging there on the brink, and in that moment, he found himself thinking back on his happiest moment. It was funny, though—it wasn't a summit at all, not a mountain, not a climb, not a conquered peak that came to him. As he sat there and died, he thought only about his wedding.
That had been his happiest time.
That smile of Ludwig's. Nothing like it. Not even that blue-black of space.
His mind must have been completely gone then, because damn if he wasn't sure that there was someone kneeling next to him, a hand on his shoulder. Felt pretty real, but what did he know? Barely even knew where he was anymore or how he had gotten there.
A cry.
"Holy shit, he's alive! Radio the camp."
He drifted.
He was moved then, grabbed up, and was suddenly staring up at the sky.
A voice, unfamiliar.
"You lucky bastard! How'd you survive the night up here?"
Had he?
Was he alive? Couldn't even tell.
But he was, apparently, because the farther down the mountain he was taken, out of the Death Zone, the more clarity returned. Helpless in the hands of others, he could only lie back and try not to die now, considering he had made it this far.
Took a long time to get him off that mountain, and with the clarity came the fear.
Wanted to know where Ludwig was, but could barely even speak to ask questions.
When Abel was on the ground, back in base camp, he was thrown immediately into a tent, a basin of hot water was brought in, and his feet were thrust into it. Dazed and dumb, Abel just looked around, and felt impossibly elated and breathless when someone else came in with another bucket of water and he saw that it was a nearly-bawling Ludwig.
Had made it down, the bastard!
That relief. No words for it. All he had wanted.
Ludwig was sniveling when he took Abel's hands and dunked them in the hot water, clenching them in his own and massaging them endlessly, as someone else massaged his feet. Ah, hell, he was probably gonna lose the damn things, so why bother? Didn't care about that, just cared that Ludwig was alright, and he pressed forward even in that daze to kiss Ludwig's forehead.
Ludwig's face crumpled, and he had to clench his jaw and squint his eyes to keep from bursting into tears there in the tent.
Abel just stared at Ludwig without a word. Stared and stared at him, couldn't get enough of him, and Ludwig just glanced up at him from time to time, very focused on his work and struggling to remain composed.
After a silence, Ludwig whispered, thickly, "I'm so sorry. This is my fault. It was my choice. My idea."
Abel pressed forward, pushed their foreheads together, and murmured back, "You didn't make me do anything. I did what I did because I wanted to. We both made our choices. It's not your fault. 'Cause of you, some people are alive that wouldn't have been."
Speaking of.
The Japanese climbers came in a while later, clearly having made it down safely, and after they had bowed to him, the girl ran up and hugged him. Awkwardly, Abel just sat there and let her, unable to do much else as Ludwig still held his hands there in the water. She was crying into his neck for a while, blabbering away in Japanese, and then she kissed his temple and was gone.
Ludwig smiled up at Abel, against that sadness, and rumbled, teasingly, "My hero."
Hardly. He was a dumbass, not a hero.
No one seemed to get that, though, because before he even left the tent a damn camera was in his face. A rogue reporter that had been in the right place at the right time.
Abel tried to shove the camera away, but Ludwig wouldn't let go of his hands.
Pain in the ass, and Abel grunted incomprehensible responses to his annoying questions.
He wasn't a hero.
And anyway, from what he learned over the next few days, Ludwig had found two of the Austrians and led them down, so why was Abel different? No one came running up to Ludwig. It had been Ludwig's suggestion, to go back. Not Abel's. Together, they had saved five people, but only Abel drew attention. Musta been because Abel had been the one to get stuck up there and become half-dead. Sounded better to the news, maybe, than Ludwig's more successful efforts. Misery attracted news.
He was flown out, Ludwig ever at his side, and spent a good two weeks in the hospital. Surprisingly, he didn't lose his feet—just his toes. The tips of his middle fingers. The tip of his left ear. Shocker. Had been so certain his feet were gone, and was damn glad it wasn't so.
They were home three weeks later, somewhere Abel was certain he would never see again, and Ludwig was on him all day and night, constantly running hands over him and clinging to him.
Abel wasn't complaining about that.
Abel was treated as a hero, and waved it off, because he hadn't done anything that most other climbers wouldn't have done had they been in that position. He had had a good chance, an opportunity, and had taken it. That was all. Hadn't done anything different than Ludwig except be in a different place and with a different result.
Ludwig was the one who beamed when someone praised Abel, and that was the only reason Abel put up with it at all and didn't punch the reporters when they came. Sure was tempting, though.
It was hard to think of the five they had saved, instead of the seven they hadn't.
Often, Abel would stare down at his feet, splayed out on the couch, and contemplate.
Ludwig teased him, when he was looking down, and kissed his cheek while saying, "Who needs toes, anyway? I mean, really, think about it : what do you actually do with toes? Mm? When's the last time you ever thought about them at all?"
It worked.
And hey, he was right; who ever thought about their toes at all until they lost them? No big deal.
Abel just snorted, grabbed Ludwig up in an embrace, and carried on, as was all they could really do. When he was in better moods, Abel would look down at his missing middle finger tips, and tease Ludwig by uttering, "Damn! See what your mutt did when you were gone? I always knew your dog was determined to eat me. Stop choosing dogs that have it out for me!"
Ludwig rolled his eyes, fell atop Abel's lap and wrapped arms around his neck, quick to chide, "Leave my poor old boy alone! And you chose him, if I recall. Keep that up, and I'll let him have what's left of your fingers."
"Bad idea," Abel shot back. "Can't run my hands over you at all times if I don't have any."
Ludwig just lifted his brow, lidded his eyes, and muttered, sultrily, "Fair point," before kissing him.
After a while, Abel really stopped thinking about it. Got used to it, and it was a lot easier when Ludwig would wrap arms around his neck, kiss his cheek, and murmur to him about what a 'hero' he was. That was always good for the old ego, because hearing that come from Ludwig meant so much more than hearing it coming from some reporter.
It could have been so much worse. He'd seen men lose their noses, most of their cheeks, their entire feet and hands. More men yet just never came down. He was lucky, so lucky, and he wasn't blind to that.
He had run his course.
They never climbed another mountain again.
A very part of his existence came to an end, and that door shut. They stood now only at the base, and looked up at the sky. It was alright—hell, they were alive.
He didn't complete his dream of summiting all of the 8000ers, falling short by just one. Funny, how he wouldn't take back anything at all from that trip, except for that he would have climbed Broad Peak before K2. Would gladly keep everything else, if only he could have switched that around. Abel wondered if Ludwig wanted to go and try for the last one alone, but he never expressed any desire aloud, perhaps out of respect. Maybe Ludwig thought that accomplishing that goal would somehow dishonor Abel in a way, but damn if Abel wouldn't'a been proud, had Ludwig bagged the last one. Never said it, though, because he didn't want Ludwig to feel pressured to finish Abel's dream.
Oh, well.
That was just life, wasn't it.
In the end, really, Abel found he didn't need to climb anymore. Had seen oblivion, had looked into it, there at Ludwig's side, and had walked away from it. Had seen the very black of space, had stood literally on top of the world, and that was always profound in his mind. So much more than most men could say, and it was even more astounding that he did so at the side of someone he loved, and that they were here now, together, to remember it. Still had those stupid photos of them posing atop the very gates to heaven.
No more climbing.
Abel just glanced over at times to stare at Ludwig as he slept, the bedroom lit up in varying shades of marine. Every shade, except for that one.
That deep blue stuck always in his mind.