Reunion
What was meant to only be a few days away took longer than expected.
It was little over a week when John returned to the tower. Over a week since heād left his sleeping husband with a note and a promise that he would come back. A promise that heād also made to Gazelle. A promise he fully intended to keep whatever the cost.
Dusk had settled outside, the air calm and still. John had never been happier to see Vought Tower. He headed inside and made his way to the elevator, pressed the button and waited. He was dressed casually, in different clothes than heād left in as those were long gone, so he was left alone as remaining Vought staff didnāt even look in his direction.
It wouldāve been far easier to have landed on the balcony and entered the penthouse that way.
If only he could fly. A temporary setback.
He waited for what seemed like an age before the elevator doors finally opened and he stepped inside, pressing the button for the only floor that mattered. He took a deep breath, his heart thudding in his chest. Heād never been more anxious. Of course he was giddy with excitement seeing his beloved, but he didnāt know how James would react. Would he be angry? Would he hate him? Would he be sane or have given in to the feral side? John would take whatever James gave him. He deserved it all knowing heād have put the vampire through hell. He just hoped James would understand why.
As the doors opened, John took a second before stepping out onto the penthouse floor. He stood still, glancing left to right and trying to listen for any signs of life. Of course it wouldāve been easier with his powers, however from what he could tell it was silent. Silent like the dead. The bond he had to James was still blocked, he couldnāt even rely on that to give an indication as to where his husband was. But John knew there would only be two possible places James would be.
He headed inside the penthouse and inhaled deeply. God, he missed the smell of home. It was dark, no lights on at all. The curtains closed. James had clearly spent time here, as John expected.
āJames?ā He called out softly to the dark room. He waited for a reply that never came. John stepped further into the penthouse and turned on a light, the brightness low just as they always had it. His eyes scanned the room to find it empty. He headed for the bedroom and stopped as his gaze took in the bed. Their bed. It hadnāt been slept in. Of course.
āJames?ā John called out again, to once more receive no response. That only meant one thing. āOh, sweetheart.ā He muttered, glancing over to the wall in the livingroom that led to the secret entrance only he and James knew about.
The secure room that contained Jamesās coffin.
John made his way over and instantly knew where the hidden doorway was, camouflaged by the wallpaper. Only problem was that it was heavy to push open, deliberately designed to keep humans out. āFuck.ā He frowned, placing both palms against the door and pushed. The door didnāt even budge. āCāmonā¦please. Please.ā He kept trying, refusing to give up as he used all the strength he had against the door.
Until finallyā¦finally, it began to move. Johnās entire frame was shaking with the amount of force he was using, veins bulging at his temples as the door opened wider and wider. Once it was wide enough for John to squeeze through, he practically threw himself across to the other side, the door heavily closing shut behind him.
And there it was. Jamesās coffin in the centre of the small room.
Panting for breath and body trembling, John made his way over to the coffin. He sank to his knees, staring at it. He dreaded to think how long James had spent in here. It broke his heart. āCāmon, baby. Time to wake up. Youāve got a lot of telling off to do.ā He said as he carefully and respectfully opened the lid to Jamesās coffin.
The sight he was greeted with was the most heartbreakingly beautiful sights John had ever seen. Curled up, features troubled, skin pale. Little trinkets next to him to offer some semblance of comfort. John wanted to hold him and never let go. āHey, sweetheart. Iāve come back to you. Come back to me.ā
And when James would open his eyes, the sight he would be greeted with wasnāt quite as beautiful. For John looked utterly exhausted, a cut on his lip and another across the bridge of his nose, a bruise under his eye and across a cheekbone.
John had made sure to wear longer clothes to save James the ache of seeing the rest.
[ @ashortdropandasuddenstop ]
