#redacted angst

BUT THE PARASITES IN ME WANT TEEN DARLIN' ANGST.

THEY CRAVE.

THEY YEARN.

THE BEGGING IS NEVER ENDING.

but the first time? no. he didn't, he freaked out. it had happened with David when Gabe first died, but even then he wasn't entirely sure how to handle it.

Asher, more quiet than he ever had been in his life walking into their bedroom to Baabe curled up on their side of the bed, the same as they had been this morning. Phone untouched, clothes the same and blankets unmoved.

Asher, who simply curls up next to them, shifted. This big wolf next to an adult who seemed so small, so lost in their own head.

Asher who just lays there. For hours, until they stir. Baabe had been awake, breathing and blinking, but hadn't moved an inch. This big sigh coming from them as they turn around and burry their face into Ashers coat, and they cry.

They just cry. And Asher just lays there, licking at their face occasionally.

When the tears have stopped and Baabe goes back to just laying there, staring up at Asher with these big eyes, he shifts back. He hugs them, tight. So tight, he should have asked, but Baabe needed a hug more than ever and he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off of his baby, his sweet baby.

They don't talk about it, not until Baabe is ready. Asher helps them shower and eat, and gets them tucked back into bed with the same t-shirt on, because he knows how comforting it is for them.

He watches them sleep for a bit before drifting off themselves. He's not sure whats going on, he's not sure why his baby, his babe, his mate and the love of his life is so broken. But he knows that they'll tell him when they're ready. And he knows that they'll get through it, with him by their side as long as they wish.

“You almost died.” Their tone was flat and their hands were clenched. 

He caught that note of hoarseness in their voice and froze, the sardonic smile on his face fading.

“You almost fucking died. I almost lost you.” Sweetheart turned away and sniffled. Their voice broke. “I’m sorry.”

“Ah- Sweetheart-“

in most media it’s a process, a short one at times but a process none the less. and you are unconscious for it. but in the redacted universe people are awake for it. it makes them pass out sometimes but not always.

i just keep thinking about vincent when he got turned. him having to lay there, still awake, while his body slowly pieced itself back together. his senses were all wrong, everything was all wrong, from one moment to the next he went from human too… something else. a vampire.

playing: "Pearl Diver" by Mitski

When Sunshine was being kept by Blake, they held themselves a lot, trying to keep it together. Something that helped was to reach around and put a hand on their shoulder, rubbing their thumb over and over, like Elliott always did. It made them feel like he was still there, still giving them that little bit of comfort they needed to make it through the next minute. It made them hope that maybe, when this was over, Blake would keep his word.

Elliott wouldn't have those awful fake memories of a failing relationship that never was broken. Arguments and insults that didn't exist. Bitter feelings that were supposed to be sweet. Love lost when it was always had. They had to hold on, and hold onto the hope that his memories would be given back, and he'd wrap his arm around them again.

Even after everything worked out as well as it could have, with them alive and Elliott's memories of them never gone, even after Brachium removed all recollections of the trauma they both endured, and even after years had passed... It's a new nervous habit.

Angel, who thrives on physical touch

Angel, who knows they have a family that loves them

Angel, who loves energy drinks

Angel, who always feels their anxiety in the back of their mind

Angel, who’s heart dropped when Milo told them David trapped himself in the ward

Angel, who stood there staring at their mate’s leather jacket, the one his best friend had given him, the one that looked like his father’s and wondered if they will ever see him wear it again.

Angel, who didn’t know what shades were. Who felt completely in the dark.

Angel, who cried for hours until they felt hollow.

Angel, who hated themselves for being Unempowered. Useless.

Angel, who couldn’t do anything to help. Just stare at the ward and pray to every fucking god there was that their mate was alive. He had to be.

Angel, who watched the ward fall down and finally saw the horrific aftermath. Anxiety surging through them as they find Asher’s mate. And silently sharing their distress and agreeing to find their mates.

Angel, who watched bodies being carried out and couldn’t help the tears running down their face

Angel, who went underground with babe, both panic and fear stricken as they stood at the entrance.

Angel, who sees their mate. Bloody and bruses and dirty and weak but their mate non the Less.

Angel, who burst into sobs as they run to him

Angel, who throws themselves into him and holds him tight as his own sobs wrack his body.

Angel, who tells David they loves him immediately because seconds ago they didn’t know if they would ever be able to again. 

Angel, who after a few minutes of crying in eachothers arms cups his face and asks if he’s hurt. They already know he is from the dried blood from his forehead.

Angel, who stays close to him the whole night. Keeping a hand on him as he’s being healed to remind themselves he’s alive.

Angel, who stays awake with David the whole night. Sitting with him in silence. Holding his hand.