Savior (Part 8)
Ikaris x Reader
Summary: Ikaris has felt a hum for millennia and he's never questioned it, until he found the source.
Chapter Summary: The Eternals learn of your past and you return to someone you haven't seen in a while.
Word Count: 5.6k words
Warnings: ANOTHER DARK CHAPTER, mentions of r*pe and ab*se and k*llings and d*ath (nothing too explicit but DNI if you get triggered easily), mentions of religion, angst for a lot of it, usage of the words fuck and shit, AGAIN this is a DARK CHAPTER
A/N: Hey! Not really sure if you guys are reading this lol! Anyway, for that teensy tiny bit about religion, it is painted in a bad light (in a way). If you don't like it, you're free to close this story. As for this being a dark chapter, it's like a bit of a recap of part 6. Bit of a repetition but it must be said. As for Jack... well, hang tight. I hope you guys stay with me to the end of the fic! It's only gonna get more hurtful after this ;) Thank you for all of the feedback! I won't mind some of your thoughts and comments and suggestions (and reviews and reblogs and asks)! Not beta'd as per uzhe, so any mistakes are purely mine. I'm sorry if I made you guys cry and frustrated. Here's part 8!
Masterlist
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10
“Y/N is… not pure.” Druig started.
The rest of the Eternals sat around the table, in front of the firelight. Some of Druig’s acolytes had come back even if they were free from their mind control and had given them food to eat after their tiresome battle. Everyone was quiet, and so was the forest. Ikaris hated the silence. Even your powers were a very low hum, almost undiscernible to him. He still felt it but it was more like the murmur of the wind than the buzz of your light.
“What do you mean not pure? Aren’t angels pure?” Sprite asked.
Druig took a long swig of his drink. Ikaris never wanted to throttle someone so dramatic. You were fighting for your life while Druig was taking his time to tell what he knew of you.
“I hold Y/N with the utmost respect,” Druig started. “I am only telling all of you about her because we are concerned for her.”
Several heads nodded. Ikaris only looked at him as if to say “go on.”
“In the early years after the death of God’s incarnate Son, Y/N lived among those people.” Druig started. “Religions were in uproar and people were being persecuted for following His teachings and beliefs. It was ironic that those men who lived in that city scourged Y/N for standing up for a child.”
Ikaris balled his fist. He could still remember the ugly welts and gashes on your back.
“‘Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them,’ as He had told them to practice,” he quoted and gave a sarcastic smirk. “The child was trying to enter a place of worship and she was being mistreated for it. Apparently, children were not welcomed to the teachings of their divine leader, despite what He had said. And, naturally, our Y/N, she came to her rescue. She stood up for her and called for a fight so the child could flee.”
Sersi breathed deeply beside him. “And they scourged her for it?”
“They humiliated her. They brought her to the center of the public, strapped her against the wooden pole and whipped her. I lost count when they went beyond fifty.”
Thena touched Gilgamesh’s arm. Kingo closed his eyes, frowning.
“I did not know if they saw her wings but if they did, don’t you find it ironic? An angel being scourged for the sins of man.” Druig gave a sarcastic, empty chuckle. “They told her she did not belong there with them. That she did not belong anywhere.” He looked at Ikaris as if in challenge.
Ikaris slammed a hand down the table and stood. The others who were keen on listening to Druig were startled but only Karun reacted verbally. He turned away from them, feeling disappointment settle on his gut.
He had told you that you did not belong with them, or anywhere. It was his only way to get you to flee from the danger that was imminent. But you were you and you were stubborn. And now he saw that you were hurt as well from what he had said because you had been told that while you were humiliated in front of the public. He might as well had done the scourging of you.
“How does that not make her pure? Wouldn’t her selflessness make her purer than she already is?” Kingo asked.
Ikaris felt Sersi’s hand on his arm and he turned. She knew what you meant to him and he knew she was hurting as well for what happened to you.
“Sit back down, Ikaris,” she told him gently.
He let her push him down on his seat.
“Y/N is too selfless. She did not think twice to help a con man who lured her and used her to earn money. He saw her wings and abused it,” Druig paused. His voice in his next words were grave. “And he abused her.”
“Abused her?” Gil asked. Ikaris dreaded the answer.
“Raped her. Used her. Molested her. Call it whatever you want but it’s all the same. He used her to the point that she became hopeless.”
Ikaris held his mug like a lifeline. He would have killed that man if he knew what he had done to you. He was lucky he was already dead.
“I had never seen an angel who had given up on hope.”
The fire cracked loudly in the stillness.
“And as she was saved by the daughter of the man, she did not only think of herself. She thought of the girl too. She was covered in bruises because her own father had been beating her and Y/N would have given her life for her to be free as well. She didn’t mind that she was abused much more than the girl; she was more worried of the consequence that would happen to the child if he learned she had freed her. She would have brought her if her wings weren’t broken and bleeding from all the pulling and abused it faced from the spectators.”
“I’m beginning to think Y/N would need a savior instead of you, Ikaris,” Kingo tried to joke but it landed flatly. Ikaris only glared at him.
“Has any of you heard of The Weeping Goddess?” Druig asked as he had one of his followers refill his mug.
“I’ve heard talks of a vengeful woman.” Sersi said. “I’ve seen the dagger the woman allegedly used to kill the men.”
“But do you know the story of The Weeping Goddess?” he asked again and Sersi shook her head no.
“Once upon a time—”
“Do not start on a fairytale, Druig,” Ikaris said as he looked at his cousin.
“Not all fairytales end happily,” he said, unaffected and started again. “Once upon a time, we have our Y/N living peacefully in a small village just a few miles from this camp.”
They all looked at Druig now. He ran his finger on the rim of his mug, watching it circle.
“Y/N wanted to live peacefully because Ikaris here kept moving from one place to another. Now, she chose that place because the people did not care if she had wings or if she looked different. She was at peace for a while.”
Ikaris drank his wine and tasted none of it.
“And then men came and promised them a better life. She gave them the benefit of the doubt because that is who Y/N is. She is ever-trusting and she always sees the good in everyone, even if that masked how vile they truly were. So, they lived in peace for a while before they realized they could exploit these uneducated residents. They did. They overworked the men. They abused and slaved the women. They killed the children.”
Sersi shuddered beside him. Sprite swallowed painfully.
“And Y/N decided that enough was enough.”
“Did she do something to them?” Sprite asked in a strained voice.
“She sold her soul for their freedom, Sprite. You see, she was uncorrupted before that day. She was as pure as the first snow of winter.”
“No…” Kingo whispered. Ikaris only watched his family, curious yet pained for what was to come.
“She took the dagger and slew the men. No one knew what happened on the inside of the shack but when she came out, her skin was blazing and in her hands were the bloody decapitated head of the leader and the knife.”
Birds cawed overhead but no one moved.
“She dropped it at the feet of the village’s leader, along with the knife and proclaimed that they were free from the terror of the men. And then she dropped on the ground and wept. People remembered her as the goddess with wings or with the skin that glowed like a thousand suns. The only thing that made true sense for these anthropologists was that she killed a man with a knife. The others, they reported, she burnt them to ash.”
“Like she did with those Deviants,” Kingo said. Druig nodded solemnly.
“The Weeping Goddess,” Sersi whispered. “She’s real.”
“She sold her soul because she has killed. And she wore that guilt in her heart to this day. It marred her soul.”
Ikaris closed his eyes as he remembered the way you had lashed at him about Ajak’s death. You had never held someone who died because you held someone you killed. You were so pure that you made yourself impure because of your purity.
“She’s been through so much,” Thena said.
They were all quiet once more. Ikaris looked at the fire, watching the flames dance around the stagnant air. He had only known of you for a few days and he wondered how he lived without your presence. You were always there for him and he was an ass for trying to get rid of you the moment he learned of your existence.
“She lived off of scraps once,” Druig told them after some time. “She couldn’t hunt because the world was slowly going modern. She didn’t want to be around people because they used and abused her and gave her nothing in return.”
“But she’s very sociable now,” Karun said. “I would never have thought she feared people.”
“In all of the memories I’ve seen of hers, there was only one time she had been helped without being expected to give anything in return. His name was Jack.”
Ikaris looked at Druig now. “Who’s he?” he asked.
“You interrupted me before I got to know more,” Druig said, shaking his head.
“What do you know about this Jack person? We have to thank him.” Kingo said.
“Jack would have to be another immortal if you want to thank him,” Druig drawled before drinking.
“What did this Jack do?” Ikaris asked, voice hard.
Druig gave his cousin a lopsided smirk. “The thing you couldn’t bring yourself to admit.” he said simply.
Ikaris was close to reaching over and bashing Druig’s head in the fire.
“Druig.” Gil said.
“Jack pulled her from being lost and afraid. He took Y/N with him, fed, bathed, clothed her.”
I’ve seen it on my face before too, you had said to him when you insisted that he looked like that at Sersi’s revelation. You knew because you had been in that position before. And you had been through a lot that he couldn’t fathom how you could still take some more.
Druig turned to Thena. “He told her that he was no threat to her, that if he ever tried anything untoward her, she was free to alarm the neighbors. She was free to leave whenever she wanted to.” He raised a brow. “She’s done the same to you.”
Thena gave a singular solemn nod.
“This is why I promised to never hurt her,” he said. He gestured to the rest of the Eternals. “Our Y/N, she is special. She may not be an Eternal but I would trust her with my life.”
“As do I,” Thena said. “She was the only one who asked of my memories.”
Everyone turned to her. “When I saw the Deviant absorb her powers, I knew I had to save her. She promised to be with me if there were Deviants around and she did. My Mahd Wy’ry made me attack her but Gilgamesh told me she did not lose faith in me, that my… episode of madness would only be fleeting. He told me she tried everything she could to pull me back.”
Gilgamesh nodded beside Thena. “She did not think twice when she attacked even if she had told me it had been a while since she had hunted. She protected me. I would trust her with my life too.”
“She never treated me like I was a kid. She didn’t even bench me when we were ambushed,” Sprite said. “She knew what I was capable of and we worked together on that.” She smiled but it did not reach her eyes. “She looked so badass when she killed that Deviant.”
“I would give up my life for her,” Karun said.
Ikaris looked at the man as did the rest of them.
“She might not be Garuda but she saved me. Giving her my life is the only honorable thing to do.” Kingo’s valet said.
“She likes my movies,” Kingo murmured and the rest of the group smiled, spirits lifting for a while. “She thinks I’m more than just a superstar. People don’t often see past Bollywood Kingo.”
Sersi gave a little smile. “I always knew there was something about Y/N that lifted my spirits. Even if I didn’t know she was an angel, I would have called her one.”
“She is one of us now,” Druig said.
“She’s like Ajak,” Sprite said and everyone turned to her. “She brings us all together and keeps all of us safe in every way she can.”
He found everyone nodding in agreement but their faces were grim. You almost gave up your life for every one of them around this table and the best they did was wait for you to get better. Ikaris remained silent and only watched the fire dance before him.
The healer appeared on Ikaris’s right side after a few moments. “I am done tending to her. You may see her if you wish but be silent. She is resting.”
Ikaris nodded. “Thank you,” he murmured and walked back to the camp hospice. The healer had bandaged as much as she could with your back, leaving only two slanted patches of skin uncovered. It must have been where your wings started to jut from your back, he thought. He reached out gently, running a finger softly on the skin and felt your skin quiver. Your wing had reacted to his touch and he pulled away.
He had never felt coldness like that before when he saw you in Gilgamesh’s arms. He still had much to tell you, so much to apologize for, but if you were dead…
He took a deep breath and touched your head. You were still under his hand.
If you were dead, he was good as dead too.
“We’ll take turns watching her,” Sersi said.
He looked at the door and found her and the rest of their family standing by.
“I’ll take first watch,” Sprite volunteered.
Ikaris only shook his head. “I’ll be fine. It’s about time I do the watching.” He turned back to you.
“You need to take a rest, boss.” Kingo said.
“I’ll be fine,” Ikaris repeated with conviction. When he remained silent, they all piled and went away.
He watched you throughout the night, only letting the healer in to check on you every two hours or so. Your pulse stayed steady and you were still asleep. The others still came by and tried to convinced him to let them watch you but every time he disagreed. They did, however, talk to themselves of the next plan and decided that they needed Phastos’s help. Sersi wanted him to come along but he said that he would only go if you came too.
“When she’s okay, we’ll leave. I’m not going to leave her here,” he said with finality and Sersi agreed.
It was a mystery to him why you still believed in humanity. You had the scars and the guilt that would make even the noblest of judges think otherwise but it did not deter you. Yes, you were an angel, but even the strongest of angels give up. What did you possess that made you sacrifice yourself for the people who harm you?
Love. You had love and you gave love. And if he put a name to the affection you were showering him with in spite of your sarcasm, it was that.
On the second day, he was slowly losing hope. The only thing that assured him you were alive was the healer’s confirmation of your breath. You hadn’t moved at all, even when he tried touching the junction of your back and your wing. You did not react from his touch this time. He was tempted to grab your wing so he could get some kind of response from you but he drew back because you needed to heal.
He only stayed by your side, never leaving you until he needed to but even then, he debated if he wanted to. He was eating the chocolate bar Sprite had given him when you suddenly moved in your cot. It was a small movement but you made a loud groan.
“Y/N?” he called out gently, sitting on the edge of your bed.
“Is this what a hangover feels like?” You groaned as you touched your head.
He smiled in relief, glad to hear you still had your smart mouth with you.
“Welcome back,” he said softly and helped you sat.
You held your head, eyes squinting as you looked at him. “Ikaris?”
“How are you feeling?” he asked, touching your arm. Your powers were stronger now and they called to him; charging his fingers but he welcomed the sensation. You were awake and your powers were back. He never wanted to hear the low buzz of your powers ever again.
“Like someone ran me over with a freight train, Jesus Christ,” you murmured.
He cradled your head and looked at you. You looked at him, confused and still in obvious pain.
“You’re acting weird,” you told him.
“You almost died, Y/N. How do you expect me to act?”
“I don’t know?” You pushed at his hands away weakly. “Overjoyed, maybe? No more annoying angel following you.”
He frowned. He knew he was at fault for a lot of his actions and his words but had he truly made you feel that way?
“What’s an angel gotta do to get some water around here?” you said as you tried to move away from him. You braced your hands on the edge of the cot, moving your feet so they were on the ground. He felt the force of your wings against his back and he moved away to make space.
“I’ll get you some water,” he stood and looked back at you. “Don’t move.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” you said surly.
“Then do as I say so I don’t tell you twice.” He went to the other side of the room, picking up a cup and poured water.
“What happened?” you asked when you had drank.
Ikaris was sat beside you again in your bed, mindful of your healing wings.
“What do you remember?” he asked.
“Only that some octopus-looking Deviant got to Gil and I had to save him.” You touched your neck and he saw the bandage there. “It tried sucking the life out of me. Literally. I felt like I was slowly dying.”
He nodded. “That’s what Gil and Thena told me.”
“Are they okay?”
“Yes. Everyone is, thanks to you. The Deviant escaped.”
“Well, shit. I thought I was fighting amazingly for someone who hasn’t done that in almost a century.” You drank your water again. “Pretty ironic I was able to save everyone except for you and I’m your guardian angel.” You quipped and grinned at him.
He smiled softly at you. “I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N.”
You raised a brow. “You are acting really weird, Ikaris. Do Deviants shapeshift? Because the Ikaris I know wouldn’t really act nice around me. I’m more of a nuisance than an angel to him.”
He sighed, looking down at his hands. “I’m sorry.”
“Holy shit.”
He looked at you. “What?”
“Did I just die and go to heaven?” You asked.
“Y/N.”
“Did you really just apologize?”
“I did and I am. I’m really sorry for the words I said.”
You moved away from him and he resisted reaching to you to bring you back closer to him.
“You’re blowing hot and cold around me, Ikaris. I don’t know if I’m still confused after all of the events or if I’m dead—”
“You’re not dead,” he insisted.
“—Or if I’m drugged so I can properly heal but you’re just playing with my head. Right!” You chuckled almost crazily as you looked at him. “That must be it! Oh, my god! You almost had me believing you actually apologized to me!”
He frowned. “Why is it so hard to believe?”
“Because you tried to kiss me one minute and then you’re pushing me away the next!” You stood on wobbly legs and he held out a hand to support you. “You said I don’t belong anywhere and yet you ask me to stay.”
“Y/N—”
“Did it have to take me to die before you realize you could finally feel some fucking emotions?”
“That’s unfair and you know it,” he said gravely as he stood before you. “I can feel, Y/N. Why do you think I tried to kiss you in Gil and Thena’s home?”
“Because I was near and convenient!”
“No! Because I wanted to!” He pressed his chest against yours. “And I still want to even after what Sersi said about Arishem and his plans.”
He gripped your arms carefully and made you look at him. “I still want to kiss you, Y/N.”
You took a deep breath and looked away. “Ikaris…”
“I know you want it to. You react to my touch. It’s not your power that’s stinging you. It’s me. And you're stinging me too.”
You looked at him. “Then kiss me, dammit.”
Ikaris didn’t need to be told twice. He bent his head low, enough for you to reach up to him. He held you closer to him and as his breath touched your lips, the door to the hospice opened.
“Boss! I thought I heard Y/N!” Kingo exclaimed.
You grunted loudly. “Fuck!”
He would have said the same but he schooled his features and put you down. He looked at Kingo with a raised brow.
“Y/N!” Kingo exclaimed and went to you, prying you from Ikaris’s arms and hugging you.
“Kingo,” Ikaris warned. “Her back is still sore.”
He set you down gently and smiled at you. “I was reviewing the footage Karun took of you and wow, you have the makings of a star.”
You huffed. “I thought that’s been established when I said I wanted to be mysterious in your documentary?”
“Kingo, is there a reason you’re here?” Ikaris interjected.
“Sersi says you need to get going.” Kingo told him. “She said she couldn’t go without you.”
He saw you raise your brows. “Where are they going?”
“They’re going to get to Phastos to see if they can convince him.”
“Where is Phastos?”
“Last we checked, he’s in Chicago.”
Chicago.
You insisted you were well enough to join Ikaris and Sersi on their journey to get Phastos in Chicago. The healer said you needed more time to heal, that the bones of your wings were still piecing themselves together. You nodded anyways, having had dealt with something like this before. You didn’t mind the pins and needles that pricked your wings as it healed, as long as you came with them to Chicago.
It had been a lifetime ago. The best lifetime you had in a while and you never looked back. You promised yourself a sabbatical when you were still in South Dakota because you hadn’t visited Chicago for quite some time. And now that you had your chance, even with your broken wings, you still declared to go—without fully stating why you were adamant.
Ikaris hadn’t tried to kiss you again after attempting in the hospice. Sersi was there and she was still his wife. You didn’t want to be the third party in their five-thousand-year relationship. You didn’t want the added guilt.
When you arrived in Chicago, you didn’t expect the Inventor amongst the Eternals to be living in the most benign, very unlikely-looking house. He lived in the suburbs with the fancy front lawns and a cul-de-sac and, honestly, good for him. You would have settled for a house like that if you weren’t always at the ends of the world, following your piece-of-work of an Eternal.
“Are you an angel?” A little kid asked.
You, Ikaris, and Sersi had stopped before Phastos’s house. You saw the kid even as you approached but you didn’t realize he was one of the people who saw your wings. And he still deemed you an angel even if your wings were battered and crooked.
“Hi,” Sersi said to the man playing fetch with the kid.
“Hello,” he replied with a smile. “Can we help you?”
“Hey, Jack, Ben,” Phastos said.
You looked down on the kid before crouching to meet his eyes. “Are you Jack or are you Ben?” you asked.
“I’m Jack,” he grinned. “Are you really an angel?”
You heard introductions were being made and you looked up at Phastos with a warm smile. “Y/N. Pleased to meet you.”
He only raised his brow and Ikaris nodded at him. “She’s with me.”
“Dad! She’s an angel!” Jack exclaimed with a smile. “Look at her wings!”
“Jack,” Ben scolded softly.
“No, it’s true,” Sersi said with a smile.
“Okay, maybe we should just go inside now?” Phastos offered. “So the neighbors won’t hear?”
Jack took your hand and walked beside you. “Can you fly?” he asked you.
“Of course.” You smiled at him gently, squeezing his hand.
“Can you take me flying?” he asked innocently and you chuckled.
“I don’t think your dads would want me to take you flying.” You said as you let him lead you to the house.
Jack was a talkative child. Ben tried to tell him not to bother you, seeing as you looked weary from the long flight but you only shook your head and welcomed all of his tales. He loved playing catch with his dad Ben and his dad Phastos liked to tinker with toys and made them way cooler. You listened to all of this all the while helping Ben with preparing dinner. It was the closest thing to a family you had always wanted and you savored every moment of it.
Ikaris, Sersi, and Phastos talked shop in the dining room and you let them. You were pretty much unneeded in this journey because they didn’t need your calming nature. Phastos warmed up to you pretty quickly like the rest of his family and although he was skeptical of you being an angel, Jack’s insistence of it proved to be pretty convincing. Plus, you let him touch your wing carefully and he promised he would make something for it to heal properly the next time it gets fractured. You thanked him profusely for that.
You entered the dining room and poured all of them a fresh cup of tea.
“Have a seat, Y/N,” Phastos said and you took your place opposite Sersi’s.
“So, after all these years, you fell for Ajak’s lies.” Phastos said with a hint of sadness and hurt. “It all made sense why she wouldn’t let us interfere with human conflicts. Conflicts lead to war, and war leads to advancement in life-saving technology and medicine. So our mission was never to make a peaceful, harmonious world, but to increase the population, at all costs.”
You took a sip of your tea and held on to its warmth. The topic was a cold one but it needed telling.
“Just farming humans as food for the Celestials, right?” Phastos said nonchalantly but you knew he felt the betrayal deep in him.
“That’s bleak,” Ikaris commented but all of you knew it was true.
“Well, so is telling your husband and your child they could be dead within a few days.”
“I thought you’ve given up on humans?” Ikaris said.
You wanted to kick his shin from under the table but he was a bit far from you. Ikaris had no need to be unfeeling towards Phastos.
“I got lucky, okay?” Phastos said. “I have a family now. They’ve given me faith again and I see the good in humanity in them every single day.”
“Not everyone is good,” Ikaris said and he looked at you like he knew something you didn’t.
“If everyone is good,” you said. “Would that make them humans? Humans make mistakes and that’s why they’re such.”
You saw Phastos turn to you. “I wanted to ask about you but Jack’s taken up so much of your time.”
You smiled. “Then ask me now.”
“Do you think the humans are worth saving?”
“We all make mistakes, don’t we? None of us are perfect but we’re still given a chance to survive.” You sat back on your seat. “To err is human, after all.”
“Even if they killed—”
“Would you throw away the whole basket of apples if you saw one rotten one amongst the good ones?” You asked. “You taught them to survive, Phastos. You didn’t teach them their morals. If you hold yourself accountable for all of the mistakes of humanity, it will keep you awake at night.”
“And you know this because?”
You weren’t offended by his question because he seemed genuinely curious. You smiled sadly and took a deep breath. “I’ve been alive for seven thousand years and I wasn’t perfect in all that time. I’ve killed men and it goes against everything I stand for. My guilt ate at me but I kept going. I love humanity because it’s a thing of beauty, even with its multitude of flaws and mistakes. I think they’re worth saving because who knows? Maybe the people who survive this would end up doing better than their predecessors.”
“You’re talking about chance.”
You shrugged. “Chance is all we have.”
“You really believe that this is worth it?”
“Someone took a chance on me once without knowing who I was. I would just like to return the favor.”
Your words hung on air after that.
“I’m sorry. I cannot help you.” Phastos said.
Sersi’s heartbreak was palpable. You were disappointed but you remained quiet.
“I choose to use my powers to fix my child’s bicycle than use it for something else like that.”
“Do you?” Ikaris drawled.
“I don’t use my powers anymore.”
“Are you sure?” Ikaris asked and none of you expected him to use his cosmic beams to try and bore a hole in Phastos’s window.
Instead of breaking, the patterns of the Inventor Eternal flared to life as it resisted Ikaris’s attack.
“Ikaris!” You exclaimed.
“What the hell is wrong with you! My child is right down the hallway!” Phastos shouted.
“That looks like someone’s been using his powers,” Ikaris only said.
You sighed and stood. Ikaris was back to being his old ass self.
“I bet you built the perfect safe house. What’s this even made of, vibranium?” Ikaris asked.
When you saw him raise his fist, you placed your hand down on the table and produced a shield on top of it. You felt Ikaris’s strength against your powers as he brought his fist down and you frowned at him. At least the table didn’t break.
“Not vibranium. Fall collection,” Phastos said with a sigh. “IKEA.”
You drew your power back. “Really, Ikaris. Phastos is being nice to us and you’re trying to ruin his house,” you scolded.
“If you stay here, you might as well invite the Deviants to dinner, never mind waiting for the end of the world.” Ikaris said instead.
“He has a point,” Sersi seconded.
“No. I’m sorry but you can’t just show up in my life and expect me to go with you.”
You saw Ben by the hallway and nodded back at him as he nodded at you. You knew he had been aware of his husband’s origin and you told him in small details of why you were there. You knew it was a hard pill for Ben to swallow, that the impending doom was just right around the corner, but he deserved to know. You didn’t say much of how it was going to happen because you didn’t want to overstep a boundary. That was for Phastos to explain, not for you.
“Phastos, I think Ben has some words he wants to tell you. We’ll let you and him talk it over,” you said. “After all, partners have a right to know.”
Sersi nodded and stood. Ikaris stood as well.
“If you don’t mind, there’s somewhere I want to go before we leave this city.” You told them as you moved to the door.
“Of course,” Sersi said.
“I’m coming with you.” Ikaris made a move to follow you.
“But Sersi—”
“I can stay behind. I would like to spend some time with Jack too.” She smiled at you.
You nodded. “Okay.” You nodded your head towards the door and went ahead. Ikaris trailed after you.
“Where are we going?” he asked as you started walking down the familiar path.
Chicago was beautiful at night. There had been days when you just walked around with no destination in mind, just watching people and the stars. People were a lot nicer the last time you lived here and there were lesser lights. Now, they drowned out the stars that you so often looked at. Chicago was different but the essence was still there.
You turned to the cemetery and counted the trees, walking when you found your marker. You passed by headstones upon headstones, fingers trailing them as you counted the steps to the one you were looking for. The granite hadn’t been cleaned for decades and weeds had grown around it. You needed to get in touch with a grave cleaner if someone already hadn’t.
You bent low, your light illuminating the name and you smiled softly.
“I want you to meet someone, Ikaris,” you said as you touched the name on the headstone. Jacob Nicholson. 1809 – 1886. Loving husband and father. I shall see you again, my sweet angel.
“This was Jack, the love of my life.”
