"Forever-Man" dribble.
so, i've decided to call a certain collection of stories "The Forever-Man", since they're all centered around my lovely Al, who, unfortunately for him, is immortal. Though, this one doesn't exactly have him in it.
and i'm playing around with names for certain characters.
as always, enjoy.
NOTE: these sort of take place AFTER all of the major action and plot type of stuff.
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"No... No no no no!" he screamed. "NO!" It was that darkness, that empty place between realms to which he had returned once again. The burning in his flesh was not real, insofar as he knew that his body was only thoughts manifested. Feelings and emotions brought into a familiar illusion so that his sanity may remain intact, for a time.
Quickly, he recalled his final moments before opening his eyes to the darkness of Purgatory once again. He could still feel those hellfire limbs holding him, and see those dimmed green eyes staring down at him in confusion and uncertainty. And the tears...
And the joy. But that joy he felt so strongly inside his heart, burning to his very core was gone now. Replaced with comfort, and a faint sound. Distant, irregular, and somehow peaceful. A heartbeat unlike any other, and after some time, the length of which he was not privy to know, he recognized it to be that of the green-eyed Forever Man.
"He is here."
He turned towards the voice, his ears perked up as he strained to listen again.
"You can sense him, in your own fashion. In mine I can smell whisky in the air. Such a... unique human creation."
He turned a circle, trying to find the source of such a soft, gentle voice. "Where are you?"
"I am everywhere."
"Show yourself!" he demanded, clenching his fists as the heartbeat, that once distant drumming in his thoughts grew stronger, faster.
There was a chuckle. "Calm yourself, child," the voice said in a soothing tone. And upon hearing it, the blue-eyed soul did begin to calm. And the heartbeat began to fade back into a steady hum in the back of his thoughts. It did not dissapear, but remained as a gentle lullabye.
"I am Azrael."
He felt a pull, a panic in his heart. Such a simple statement, a mere name, set into him an instinctual fear. He felt a chill throughout his being, and came to realize a hand was touching him. Clammy, cold. Cold as...
"Yes. And you know why I have come, Aaron."
"That is not my name," he said boldly. "I despise it, just as I despise-"
"God, for having punished you so unjustly."
"Stop doing that!"
He could hear the smile in the voice of Azrael. "I apologize. I do not mean to offend, child. It is merely a... what is that word you mortals are so fond of using? Personality trait? Habit?.... No. Ah, yes. Quirk. I am quite fond of that one myself." He chuckled, and drew his hand away.
The warmth that followed caught the mortal soul by suprise. As he grew accustomed to the feeling once again, he chewed his lip, a nervous tick he supposed. An involuntary response when he would fall into deep thought. Which life had it been when he had last done such a thing?... It was so long ago. It was hazy at best... He spoke, knowing the other already knew his mind, and had read it like an open book.
"You can take me, but you can't have him. Not after what you bastards have put him through."
He could hear Azrael's voice as he spoke quietly to himself. The words he did not understand, but the tone spoke for the meaning well enough.
"I've been prepared for this too many times. Go ahead and take me. I'm ready. I'm done. Just leave him to try again, new and-"
"I have an idea," Azrael interrupted. "If you are up for it."
Once more he felt that cold chill. This time, he braced himself for the quickness with which it spread. He focused on its path, comitting to memory the places where Death would always strike first. "Up for what?" he asked, unable to stop himself from saying them. Were those his words? Or did they belong to the ever growing hellfire burning in the place where he knew his heart should rightly be, if in this place he could claim to have one.
"I am tired of talking to a shadow," Azrael said suddenly. His voice became soft once more as those words which seemed nonsensical to the mortal's ears were spoken.
It was faint, the light. He could not pin down from which direction it had crept upon them from. But he was grateful for such a light in this place of eternal darkness. This waiting room of the damned.
His eyes caught movement, and followed it to see an arm. Fragile, yet he knew it to be quite strong despite. That arm spanned the distance between the hand caressing his own cheek and the lean figure standing in front of him. Such wild hair, and a face that smiled down at him.
He knew that smile. And somehow, he believed, such a smile was shared amongst the hosts of the divine. He had seen it coupled not with sombre grey eyes which looked upon him now, but rather with eyes that shined brilliantly with laughter and excitement; sparkling emerald gems from a face far more handsome than that which belonged to the angel Azrael.
At least, this mortal soul believed it to be far more handsome.
That smile was disarming. Unexpected. And oh so mischevious.
"I was never here," Azrael said carefully.
"What?"
"Simply stated, child," he said. "The angel of death never came to collect you, nor the one you carry inside your heart."
"Can you do that?"
He nodded, his voice taking on a false innocence. "There were so many deaths in that last battle. I may have.... overlooked a few by accident. Working with numbers that large, it can happen." He laughed, and it was a lighthearted sound. "And it's not my fault if those few happen to be a certain four that can't stay out of trouble."
Tyler stared up at him, and could only blink in confusion.
And Azrael pulled his hand away, allowing the warmth within the one he called child to spread throughout once more. "What?" he asked, his angelic voice filled with so very human sarcasm. "You honestly expected me to send the two of you off alone? Preposterous! Where would be the fun in that for me? Besides, if you want that happy ending, you need to do a little something in return."
"Oh no," he replied, shaking his head and holding up his hands to stress his desire to refuse. "I had to sit back and watch the last time someone made a deal with creatures like you. No way. Not going to do it. I have absolutely no intention of living forever, thank you."
"That isn't what I meant," Azrael snapped, slightly offended. But only slightly. He did understand the other's reluctance. "If my records are correct... and they always are, despite the few times I'll accidentally-on purpose overlook little indiscretions, there are two pages of the book in desperate need of repair and revision."
He tried to keep his mouth shut. He tried to understand the subtlties of what Azrael was proposing. However, he found he could not control his mouth and voice, and for a second time words that were not his own erupted forth before considerations could be made. "Where are you going with this, jackass?" Immediately, he clamped a hand over his mouth, and stopped the diarreah of words from going further. After a few moments, and a rather amused chuckle from the angel of death, he sighed. "Sorry. I don't understand what's going on. Something-"
"It appears someone cannot wait his turn to speak."
"Sorry," he repeated.
"Not you," Azrael said, a slender finger prodded his chest, over where his heart should rightly be. Where the warmth had grown and settled into a comfortable, disjointed pulsing sensation. "Him. Please, do try to keep him from forcing you to say stupid things. It is most unbecomming of you."
And Tyler smiled quietly to himself, reaching up to hold his hand against his chest fondly. "I... We'll do it, that is, as long as it does not turn into another of your divine scavenger hunts."
Azrael nodded and held up a hair. "On my honor, you won't have to go hunting for them. They will, in fact, find their own ways to you. Where you will look after them until Raz has finished making the apropriate changes."
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"Alejandro," he said, sitting up in the bed. "We should move in together."
"What?"
"You've been here more than you've been at your own place. It makes
sense."
"But what about-"
Kallen cut him off with a laugh. "Don't start. You know I'm right."
"I don't think we're ready for that."
"You can't be serious. We've known each other since the school yard days.
And honestly, how often are you actually at your own appartment in any given month?"
"Well-"
"And how do you expect to raise up Damien when you're not home half the
time?"
"My mom helps."
"You mean your mom is doing your job for you." Kallen shook his head,
throwing back the covers and climbing out of the bed. "You and Damien are moving in
with me and Erick. And you're not going to argue. Besides, it'll be good for the boys to
have someone to play with, and a nice, stable family enviroment."
Alejandro sighed, nodding. He couldn't argue with Kal. After all, the man
was brutally honest. He pulled the blankets up further, wrapping it around himself to
keep warm in his lover's absence. "Kal, what will I do for work?"
"You've always wanted to work in a museum, right?" he replied, asking as
he buttoned up his uniform shirt. "You have a doctorate in paleoanthropology. And
you're squandering it away working as a secretary in a... what's that place do again?...."
Kallen turned his head to smile at him. "Ah! That critter cloning place, where they make
the ones we can eat. Never did quite understand that..." It was a goofy, awkward smile,
almost as if it didn't quite belong on his face. "I'll put in a good word for you with the
curator when I see him."
"Kal, really, you don't have to."
He strapped on his belt, checking to make sure his flashlight and mace were
in their compartments. "No, but I want to. You deserve it, and it's what you've always
wanted since we were kids." He laughed, going back to the bed to lean in and kiss his
cheek. "When I get back, you'd better be home with Damien and packing your things."
He felt his face burning, and his mouth a little dry. "This is just so much so
fast. I mean, are you sure? There's barely enough space for you and Erick here. I don't
want to-"
The taller blond laughed. "I told you, don't start. And stop worrying about
everything."
"Well excuse me if I can't be as carefree as you are. My brain is fully
functional."
"Hey!" he laughed, ruffling his lover's hair before stealing another kiss. "You
can mock my off-key singing, and even my creepy late-night muffin baking binges. But
never mock my brain." He smiled that awkward smile again. "It can't understand the
subtle bits."