Archive of Our Own ^beta

The noise in the bar was loud enough to shatter eardrums.

A performance had begun, gathering a noisy crowd that screamed over the music as it shook the walls. None of it seemed to fit the space they were in. It was all too stifling, making the air feel like a suffocating mix of alcohol and carbon dioxide.

Dylan sat at the bar, surrounded by people who whispered things into his ears that he could not be bothered to catch. He took a slow sip from his bottle, swallowing the bitter liquid before it had time to linger on his tongue.

One gulp at a time, his mind clouded.

With difficulty, he got up to stand on his wobbly feet and pushed his way to the very center of the room. The music faded away, leaving only the feeling of people crowding around him like a herd of sheep; Their bodies pressing against him on all sides, an occasional arm thrown around his shoulder, and fingers trailing over places they were not supposed to touch. But tonight, he didn’t have it in himself to tell them to go away. Because tonight, nothing truly mattered.

He received every flicker of attention like it was his most precious prize. Drinking down the care, and compliments like they could fill in the gap where his heart was supposed to be. And maybe for a beat it worked, the alcohol allowing him the moment of freedom to forget.

But even through the haze, he could feel the shards embedded in his chest, a phantom ache of pain he could never remove. It was a chasing game, seeing how far he could run, before the torture that was his life would eventually catch up.

Just like all nights before, it met Dylan at the bottom of the toilet bowl, the alcohol refusing to carry the weight of his hurt any longer.

Between the slow blinks, pictures he had tried so hard to forget painted themselves into his vision. Hallucinations so real, Dylan swore he could see the face of the person he loved the most right there in front of him.

His hands reached out to touch the tears dripping from the gentle eyes that could carve patterns into Dylan’s soul. But his fingers only met thin air; the tears he had seen falling from his own eyes instead.

But even as he brushed through the image, Thame’s face lingered.

Dylan wanted to scream, to make him go away, and to tell him to never come back. He wanted to hurl out every insult and hateful word until the light in those damn eyes dimmed and became hollow and lifeless like Dylan’s own. But the words refused to form, every attempt shattering his own soul further until he was only left with scraps.

A tear after another rolled down his cheeks, dampening the collar of his shirt, with his own stupidity.

Never had he allowed someone to get so close; Thame was the promise of something Dylan had never even dreamed of having. A family. A person so special that they would stay for a lifetime.

But of course, Dylan could have none of that. Even Thame left him, just like everyone else had before him. It all nearly felt like a cosmic joke. One where everyone else was having fun on his pathetic attempt at happiness.

Dylan could only wish that he could go back and rewrite his own life from the beginning. Make sure that he never ended up meeting Thame or becoming part of Mars. He wanted to go and erase all these years from existence, even if it left him all alone in this world. Because anything would have been better than having to look at Thame and knowing that he had chosen to leave.

He crawled up on his knees and pushed his way past the images. His feet moved faster and faster until he was running. First out of the door, and then through the empty streets that only echoed back his own all-consuming thoughts.

None of it was Thame’s fault, and even though the pain and the haze, he still attempted to understand him. To excuse Thame’s actions in a way that made it all seem better. Because how could he blame Thame for leaving when he had never given him a reason to stay.

Once the streetlights ended, Dylan’s feet gave out. His body hit the ground with force that made his bones rattle, but he couldn’t feel any of it. Because no matter how far he had gotten, Thame still lingered. Those same brown eyes stared down at Dylan with the love Dylan had always seen in them. Dylan’s gaze dropped to his own hands splayed against the rough asphalt.  His lungs burned with the desperate need to scream.

But all he managed was a whisper, “Please, don’t leave me.”

Because somehow, even after everything, he could not find it in himself to hate Thame.