⸻ * BARELY HOLDING ON.

eddie doesn’t like to talk about his fears, but lowkey, he is scared of a lot of things. some of those fears/phobias are as followed:

heights.

big snakes, garden snakes are fine.

wendigos & skinwalkers.

being abandoned.

being forgotten.

alex, despite his secretive life, wears a lot of his fears on his sleeve. they are as followed:

dying alone, which he finds ironic, given his profession.

being in small spaces, long story behind that.

never being forgiven by his husband.

crowded places.

Zach looked up at the other man with the slightest hint of confusion across his hardened features, hearing that his ex hated himself. Hated himself for what? For doing what he did? Or for allowing himself to fall in love? Either way, Zach felt hurt in every possible was as he stood there, unable to fully process what he was seeing. 

“I buried you, Dylan. I buried you and I tried so fucking hard to bury my feelings with you, but nothing made it easier. Not even the bottom of a fucking bottle of whisky. Over three goddamn years I’ve been dealing with this, and now you just waltz back into my life and try to make out like it was not a big deal? Do you even know how hard it all was?” Having to try and go on with normal life when he came home to an empty bed, when he had to figure out what to do with Dylan’s clothes that sat in their wardrobe… 

“Protect me?” The words were spat with venom as he scoffed. “You think making me fall in love with you and then faking your death is protecting me? Every single decision I’ve made in the last three years has been based on a fucking lie. Do you even have any idea how that feels?” It was so difficult for Zach, because in that moment, he didn’t know what to do with himself. There was a small part of him that just wanted to crumble into Dylan’s arms and hold him and pretend that he never lost him, but this man was not the man he fell in love with. “Alexander? So Dylan was all a lie too…” Somehow, knowing that the man he fell in love with was entirely fabricated didn’t make him feel any better. 

“Don’t-” He made to pull away when Alexander grabbed his hand, but it was too late and the contact had been made. It was as if an involuntary spark rushed through Zach’s body and his heart raced faster still. “And what about me? You didn’t do what you had to, you did what you had to do in order to manipulate me for Lane. That’s what you did.” Of all the things that Zach had faced in his life, this was by far the hardest. Not losing his husband, that had been the most difficult until the moment he laid eyes on this man again. Now, it was coming to terms with his grief being manufactured by unseen forces. “Why me?”

         he wished he could changes things, that he could go back and just take zach away from all of this shit-- alex would have happily turned his back on it all, and he should have. maybe it was the years of solitude that hardened him and his opinion of what they were doing, but regardless, he should have never allowed for this to happen; for zach to hurt this way.

        at the other’s words, alex furrowed his brows and narrowed his eyes slightly. “of course i know how fucking hard it was, zach. you didn’t just lose me-- i lost you too. do you think any of that was easy? that not being able to see you, talk to you-- touch you, do you honestly think that was just a breeze for me? well, it wasn’t. i kept tabs on you every single day, every goddamn minute, just to make sure you were okay, but i knew you weren’t, my love. neither was i. i tried to bury who dylan was too, but i couldn’t, because i could never forget about you... nor would i ever want to.” it was true, he was used to creating new lives for himself and leaving old one behind, but that just wasn’t possible this time. 

        zach was his anchor, keeping him tethered to that other life, the life he wished he could go back to. “yes, it was. do you think lane would have let you live, if i didn’t make that sacrifice? to him, you were a distraction for me, and i refused to let you go, but i also knew what that could have meant if i didn’t... it was either i lose you forever, or i let you lose me for a while. regardless, it was hell, it was fucking hell and i hated ever second of it. do you honestly think i enjoyed watching you cry? watching you drink yourself half to death?! --and yeah, what you did might have been based on a lie, but MI6 was always a shit-show and you know it. ...still,” he wanted to say he was sorry a thousand times, get on his knees and beg forgiveness, but he knew no amount of begging could fix what he broke. “only the name, but i was really an analyst-- that’s how lane found me. every other dumb fact about me was true too-- the person you fell in love with was real and he’s still here.”

        “no--” alex’s voice was strained, the pain clear in his tone. “that was never the intention, that’s just how it turned out. he sent me out into the field to work for MI6 as their analyst, then i met you and... everything changed. i wasn’t supposed to fall for you, zach. i wasn’t even supposed to interact with you, let alone marry you! i couldn’t help myself though, i couldn’t help falling for you. it was never meant to be this way and i wish i could take it all back, but the truth is, it was never about you. it only became about you for lane, when he knew i had truly fallen in love. he figured it could compromise everything and i had to do what he needed me to do, in order to get me out of your life. i hate myself for what i did to you, zach, i truly do. you’re the only person i have ever loved like this and i hate that i’ve put you through so much pain.” he paused before he pulled his hand back and placed it over his other one, nervously turning the wedding ring on his finger.

Ben couldn’t believe it. It had been around twenty years since he had walked out of that motel room with a broken heart and an embarrassed mind, and yet here he was. Kneeling over the man who had caused all of that emotion. It took him a moment to try and gather his thoughts, suddenly reverting back to that scared and humiliated eighteen year old, and he stumbled back ever so slightly. The two men shared so much history and despite having not spoken in years, the familiarity that he felt looking at Eddie made him feel as though it were just days since their last meeting. 

Moving with his friend, Ben got to his feet with his hands outstretched, ready to help should Eddie need support, but he felt as though his body was moving on autopilot while his eyes scanned over the same lovely face he had fallen for all those years earlier. He had to force himself to snap out of it, to stop thinking on the past. Eddie never wanted you, Ben, stop it. Focus. 

“Yeah, well you’re not going anywhere, alright?” Ben replied at mention of the two remaining creatures. “The state you’re in, I’m not letting you anywhere near another one of those things. I’ll deal with them, and then we’re gonna get you patched up.” He could feel growing concern for Eddie’s well-being within him, the two having seen each other with varying degrees of injuries in their youth. But this felt different now. He had to admit, he was a little taken aback by the snappy comment, his expression hardening slightly as he reached into his backpack to retrieve another flare. Last I heard you quit this shit. So he had heard.

“I did.” The response was short, maybe a little harsh if he had thought ahead of himself, but his mind was already reeling from seeing Eddie’s face again and the bluntness of his remark. “Look, you stay here and I’ll be back when I’m done.” Not waiting for any response, Ben turned and began to walk away in the direction of the cave, palms sweating and fingers trembling. 

        “you think you get to do that again? just walk away?” eddie questioned as he looked at the other, almost glaring. he had spent nearly twenty years thinking about the other, wondering and worrying. even if he got occasional updates from mutual people, it wasn’t the same. this was his best friend and he walked away from him-- ben had abandoned him and now he was trying to do it again. only, this time, it was under the guise of protection. fuck that. ben didn’t get to just walk back into his life and do that shit again, eddie refused.

        “you’re on somethin’ if you think i’m just going to let you leave me behind again.” despite his harsher words from before, the small tremble in eddie’s voice revealed more than he would have liked. it revealed how much he cared, how much he had missed the other and just how mad he was that ben never came back. even if he had quit this life, did that mean he had to quit being eddie’s friend too?

        “we’re going in there together and we’re coming out of there together, you got that?! then, you and i are going to have a drink and a nice long talk.” he informed the other male, showing that he didn’t have a choice in this matter. he made eddie wait all these years, and truthfully, he was sure ben would have kept him waiting, had fate not thrown them back into each others lives. grabbing his backpack, which had taken a beating during the fall, eddie quickly opened it and proceeded to remove his shirt before he grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol and some bandages from inside the bag. he asked for no assistance as he poured the stinging liquid down his back, nor did he as for any as he quickly and haphazardly wrapped the bandages around himself.

FC’S I’D LIKE TO USE:

adria arjona, taron egerton, adam driver, alba baptista and michael b. jordan.

He had only been in town for a little over thirty six hours when he had caught wind of the latest victims going missing, and he knew that he had to act immediately. These were nasty buggers, creatures who were immune to so many traditional weapons and were fast as all hell. He’d encountered one wendigo before now and it was a terrifying situation to be facing, having been a young hunter back then and still somewhat inexperienced. The victim he had been trying to save had not made it, and that had made things so much worse. Determined to not let the same loss happen again this time, Ben packed his bag and made his way deep into the forest in search of the structure of caves he knew that the creature would likely be hiding in. 

As he tread lightly, Ben found himself feeling more and more on edge, the silence of the surrounding area leaving him ready for an ambush at any given moment. There were no birds flying overhead, no crickets echoing from the forest floor. Just a solid, eerie silence that made the hunter’s skin tingle. Something wasn’t right, and that went beyond the fact that there were two missing people. There was something else in the air, something that made his gut twist and turn with anxiety, and amidst all of that, there was a strange feeling of familiarity. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was just something there… 

Snapped out of his thoughts, Ben jumped at the sound of a screeching just nearby enough for him to pinpoint the location. That was it. He was so damn close, but he just had to make sure he got there in time. Sprinting through the trees, he leaped over a fallen trunk with ease and heard the sounds getting closer; sounds that were mixed with screams of a man. Someone was being hurt. A victim? No, the victims would be held inside the cave, perhaps another hunter? Regardless, Ben knew that he had to do something to help otherwise at least one innocent person would die. Fumbling in his bag as he ran, he retrieved a flare and skidded to a halt at the top of a hill, seeing the creature on top of a man who was bleeding and writhing. 

“Hey!” Ben screamed. “Bastardo!” The wendigo turned and screeched as it saw him, sprinting up the hill in full attack mode, however as it got within a few meters from Ben, far enough from the injured man, he pulled the trigger and watched as the creature went up in flames with the piercing sounds of its demise echoing around him. He wasted no time watching, though, stumbling down the hillside to the man’s aid and dropping to his knees to help. “Hey, hey, you ok?” His heart was pounding as he searched for the sources of the blood, however when his eyes fell on the man’s face, that pounding heart almost stopped. “Eddie?”

        he truly thought he was a goner, that this life had finally claimed him, just like it had so many other hunters. however, it seemed like the universe wasn’t quite done with him yet, which was made evident by the stranger that called out and the flare he saw fly straight across, through the air. clearly this was another hunter, cause they knew how to dispose of these assholes, but despite how grateful he wanted to be, the pain was currently the only thing eddie could focus on. when the man was suddenly above him and attempting to find the blood source, eddie then heard his name be said before his eyes opened and he looked up at the other. brows furrowing now, both in anguish and confusion.

        “b-ben?!” he replied, incredulously, his eyes widening as he looked up at the face that was once so familiar to him. they were both older now, but the same features were still there. suddenly, the pain all over his body was secondary, completely overshadowed by the pain in his heart. he hadn’t seen the other in so... so long, the last time they laid eyes on each other seemed like ages ago. he wanted to yell at the other, ask him why he never came back-- ask him why his best friend suddenly became a stranger, but he couldn’t, he just looked at him, the pain clear on his face as he slowly got up, stumbling a bit as he did so.

He was joking around. 

Three years, seven months, and fifteen days since he had lost the love of his life and now, that very same man stood before him cracking jokes. Zach couldn’t quite believe it as he leaned back against the wall, his chest feeling heavy as he began to feel how difficult it suddenly was to breathe. It was as though his entire world had been turned upside down - it wasn’t like it had, his world had been turned upside down, because now, every choice he had made until that moment had been made based on a lie. Turning his back on MI6, letting Solomon Lane into his life, turning into the man he was today… All of that had been triggered by a death that never actually happened. 

His head was spinning, his vision hazing up so much he had to blink just to clear it. He wondered maybe if he closed his eyes for long enough, he would find out he had made all of this up. That Dylan - was that even his real name? - was not actually there and that he was hallucinating. But of course, when he opened up his eyes at the sound of the attempted reassurance, he found that the other man was in fact still there and very real and very much alive. 

“Hate you?” Zach asked, staring at his ‘late’ husband with a look of shock on his face. “Dylan, I couldn’t ever hate you. And that’s the fuckin’ problem.” There was anger in his voice, a bitter sharpness as he spoke. “I bloody loved you. I loved you more than anything in this pathetic world and you… you fuckin’ lied to me? Was the whole thing fake? What, did… Did Lane orchestrate the whole goddamn thing just to get me on side?” How could the man he considered a mentor do that? Lane had took him in, shown him the truth, and now he found out the whole thing was just some scheme? “No, I ain’t going anywhere with you. I’m stayin’ right here.” He partially refused because he was certain that if he pushed away from that wall, that he couldn’t trust his legs to keep him upright. Tears began to form in his eyes, which he quickly wiped away because no, he would not allow this false husband of his to see him cry.

        it gave him the faintest sense of hope when zach said he didn’t hate him, but only the faintest. “that makes one of us then,” he replied, though he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. still, that didn’t take away from the truth of that statement. alex hated himself, perhaps more and more each day, but his love for zach was probably the only thing that kept him going...  but then there it was, the question alex knew to expect, but it still hurt regardless. nevertheless, he knew it was something zach had to ask. hell, had the roles been reversed, he would have wondered if it was all fake too. inhaling deeply through his nostrils, alex then rolled his shoulders back before shaking his head.

        “i’ll tell you one thing right now, i may have done a lot of bad shit in my life, but i never faked how i feel about you. you were, and still are, the only person i have ever loved-- completely. i’m sorry for what happened, but you have to understand something-- i did what i had to do to protect you.” he informed the other male before he slowly relaxed his shoulders. “alexander evans, at least, that’s what they know me by. my actual surname is emison, and that’s something i’ve never told anymore before-- not even lane.”

Some might tell her to feel flattered. Sure, she could see why some people might think it to be not that weird, but for a detective who had been around for far too long, this was just far too uncomfortable for her liking. Word had got back to her that someone, a man she had never heard of nor encountered, was out there trying to find her. A man who was taking beings not too unlike herself, causing them harm in an attempt to learn about her, to get close to her. In her line of work alone, this was dangerous behaviour, however adding to it that he apparently knew at least something about her true nature… That was even more disturbing to her. 

How did he know who she was? Who had told him about her? Why her of all people? There were plenty of vampires out there, many much stronger and older than Rose, but he was seemingly just seeking out her specifically. Why? 

After receiving a tip on who this man was, a local werewolf having been on the receiving end of his interrogations, she wasted little time in tracking him down. The hunter would soon become the hunted, and Rose had many questions for him. With skills learned over many years, which she would normally frown upon during her day job, she let herself into his home in the dead of night, slipping through the rooms in search of her pursuer. But as she moved through the living area of his home, Rose froze on the spot and let her eyes fall on an all too familiar face. She had not seen that painting for over a hundred years, skilfully crafted by a charming man from her past. This only served to complicate things more, leaving the vampire even more confused and somewhat scared. 

Letting herself into his bedroom, she found the man sleeping alone - good, he did not have company, since that could have been rather awkward - and she leaned against the wall opposite the bed. Folding her arms across her chest, Rose waited patiently for him to stir, eyes taking him in and feeling a surprising lack of threat from him. 

“Who are you?” she asked, as he seemed to wake. “The painting in your lounge, where did you get it?” 

        his life was a dull one, even with what he did on the side, it was boring-- empty. perhaps, he often thought, it was time to give up this wild goose chase. maybe it was time to find a wife, have children-- something he never desired, but still, it seemed like the proper thing to do. as much as he didn’t want those things, he knew he would have to eventually settle for something-- anything, whatever could get him away from this meaningless life. it wasn’t that he thought he deserved more, or better for that matter, but the creatures he came across did. his obsession had been their pain and it wasn’t something they deserved.

        maybe that was why sleep never came easy for him? in fact, he barely slept most nights and if he did, he would be lucky to get two hours-- max. tonight seemed to be a two hour night and when he started to wake up, he felt a weird sense of urgency take over him, though his reaction to it was subdued. 

        slowly sitting up as he heard a voice, damien furrowed his brows for a moment before his gaze landed on a familiar face. at the time, he figured he was still dreaming, or perhaps she was a delirious illusion (wouldn’t be the first time), however, his body jolted a bit when a realization came over him very suddenly. never before, in any dream or illusion, had she ever spoken to him. his mind could never choose a voice for her, so she remained voiceless, just a presence that haunted him. however, this haunting spoke and she did not seem pleased. swallowing hard, damien then tossed the blankets off of himself and scooted back against the headboard, eyes trained on the woman before he finally spoke.

six replies are owed.

       OBSESSION. it had taken over a large portion of his young adult years, which weighed him down heavily now. the historian felt like he had wasted so much of his life searching for a woman that probably didn’t exist any longer. all he had were the stories of a deranged old man to go off of, but he couldn’t help but need to believe the tales of his great-great-grandfather and the beauty he called ‘the rose’. in his tales, she came into his life twice. once, when he was a boy, and she saved him from drowning-- then once again, when he was a man. a painter, well known in his city for his beautiful portraits, but the one he truly wanted to paint was of the woman that saved him, the woman he would tell his family about for years to come, just to honor her.

       when he got that chance, he painted, what was perhaps, his most beautiful piece of art of all time. said portrait was then passed down through the family until it ended up in damien’s hands at the age of seventeen, along with the story of ‘the rose’, the woman who never aged and could lure any man in with just a look. the woman who also showed kindness when she did not need to.

       this story is what led him down a dangerous path, a path to finding anyone like this-- a child of the night, as many called them. he learned of hunters when reached adulthood, but he was far from being one. damien was what he liked to describe as ‘an interrogator’. he never killed a creature, but he was not against harming one for the information he sought. he had to know if she was real, or if this family story he had clung to for so long, was all a lie. at least, that was how his life was for a long time, in fact, most of his youth was wasted on this. now, he was in his mid-forties, with nothing to show for all he had done, except for dusty old books, worn-out notepads and a painting that hung on his living-room wall.

For a brief moment, when Zach heard the voice that addressed him, he thought that he was hearing things. That perhaps, something in his mind that had triggered thoughts of his late husband had caused him to hear a strong familiarity in this man’s voice. Perhaps he was slowly losing his mind, perhaps everything with Dylan’s death and the fall of the Syndicate and the loneliness he was currently feeling had him longing for the sound of his darling husband’s voice once again. But then, once he had pushed that thought of insanity aside, his brain actually began to register what that voice had said to him, and in that very moment, it felt as though the walls of his reality had come crashing down around him. 

Narrowing his gaze slightly on the figure that appeared from the shadows, Zach felt his stomach drop, twist, flip, and he felt his heat almost stop. That beautiful dark hair he loved to run his fingers through, those stunning brown eyes which were like pools he had so often lost himself in, those soft pink lips he had once kissed… He felt his knees beginning to weaken, legs threatening to give out on his body as he stumbled backwards to the nearest wall for support. This couldn’t be. No, his mind was playing tricks on him. 

“You ain’t real.” The only words that could come from Zach’s lips were denial as he averted his gaze, shaking his head almost frantically because this couldn’t be his husband. Dylan was dead. They hadn’t even been able to identify his body- 

They hadn’t identified his body. Zach hadn’t been able to see Dylan for a last time that day, his body had been too damaged from the blast that his dental records were all that could confirm… No body… “This isn’t real. This isn’t happening, you’re fuckin’ dead. You can’t be here right now.” Every fiber of Zach’s being was conflicted, parts of him wanting to run away and hide, parts wanting to take his husband into his arms, and parts of him wanting to throw punches (at Dylan, at the wall, at anything he could make contact with). 

        maybe this was a bad idea? maybe he should have never come-- never asked for this. perhaps it was best to just let zach live in peace, unaware of the truth, but alex was selfish. he missed the man he called his husband and despite keeping tabs on him, it wasn’t the same. knowing zach was safe, wasn’t enough. he wanted to be there at the end of a long day, or by his side on a mission, wanted to be the one to protect him, fight alongside him, comfort him. he missed what they had, even though it was never meant to exist. he was reminded, time and time again, that he brought this pain upon himself, that if he had just did what he was supposed to do, he wouldn’t have to be in hiding, wouldn’t have to keep his being alive a secret.

        still, it didn’t change how alex felt, nor did it make him regret anything. he would gladly accept this isolation over and over again, if it meant he got to marry this man, or even if he only got see zach one more time, it was all worth it. alex had never felt love like this in his life before meeting zach, and he knew he would never feel it again. regardless of what happened tonight, whether the other male refused to accept him or not, he knew he would never find another, nor did he want to.

        at zach’s first words to him, alex gave a slight smile, but there was no joy in it. he was simply thankful to be hearing the other male’s voice again but he was also quick to reach his arms out as the other stumbled back. “whoa there, sweetheart-- i know i always knocked you off your feet, but i don’t want you passing out on me or somethin’.” he tried his best to be lighthearted, but he knew exactly how serious this situation was-- just how hurt zach must have been.