Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Andrew was right about you, wasn’t he? Cowardly, and egotistical.”

God, he really was just like his father, wasn’t he?

It was impossible to ignore the feeling of cold concrete pressing against his back, the pain in his spine as the pale moon shined above, staring down at him with its judgement obvious, every twinkling star above an eye that stood witness to his pathetic display. He used to love these stars more than everything, now the very sight of them just made him sick to his stomach. Whenever he stared, he could feel that warmth for just a moment, that disgusting joy as he remembered sitting with Andrew. Such a fucking failure he was, can’t even do this, huh? The only way he could accomplish the one thing he hadn’t the lost the opportunity to complete, to finally make a name for himself, to not be forgotten, and he managed to fall backwards instead of forwards, his dizzy sight landing him the wrong side of the ledge.

Groaning, it took every last bit of strength to push himself back up onto his feet, limbs sore like he’s ran a hundred miles as he tried to ignore the new wetness of his clothing, a reward for landing directly into a shallow puddle from yesterday night’s rain. He could already hear the whispers in his head, angry and loud yet somehow quiet, that thing’s voice echoing. It refused to leave his mind, a new foreign presence in his mind that refused to leave. Cowardly and egotistical it called him, like it was a fact rather than an insult, prodding and picking at him without care for whatever reasons Ivan tried to give for his actions. He didn’t question it, he knew it was right, in fact, he should just listen to its words and finish the job. No, he hasn’t failed yet, that ledge was still right there, he should just get back on that ledge and finish things, let himself enjoy remembrance no matter how little he deserved it.

…

One peek over the edge nearly sent the young man’s body crashing backwards to the ground again, nausea settling deep in his gut as the world spinned harder, a deep and primal fear within him. He’s envisioned it for weeks now, the thought of his own body shattering to pieces or the feeling of cold metal piercing through his skull at the end of an axe. There wasn’t even an explanation for his hesitance, this was what he deserved, what his destiny should be… and yet…

Some disgusting part within him writhed about and screeched at the thought, a piece of him that wasn’t quite ready for death and selfishly pushed the rest of him to stumble away from the edge and closer to the door back into the building. He just couldn’t, couldn’t fight that paralyzing fear striking through his veins. If he died now, he’d be no different from his father, perhaps would even end up worse off. Would anyone but his mother even show up? His closest friend, and only friend really hated him, and there was no one else he could think of that’d be willing to waste their time. Would they even give him a funeral, a proper burial if the only person who’d bother to show up probably did so more out of obligation through blood? He used to think his father was unlucky for only having nine people show up to see his corpse, now he felt envious. No, he couldn’t be that same corpse, a mangle form with an unrecognizable face to be forgotten, yet another body in pieces they close the casket for.

With each step towards the safety of the indoors, the red exit light that pulsed like an accusation was his only guide, the hallway he was greeted with with the door opening near pitch black at this time. Ivan knew he probably looked terrible right now, more like a zombie then a human as he’s… not exactly been on top of taking care of himself lately. He never was great at it to begin with, but now that he had precisely zero visitors coming and going, he ran out of reasons to waste time on doing meaningless things. As a result though, he ended up punching out his mirror, as he grew sick of not liking the person he saw. Thankfully, no one was out and about to judge him for his current state, not that there was ever many people walking around. This place was run down and cheap, full of the unsavory sort, not many people felt like staying out longer than they needed to.

The apartment was as dreary as always, with very little decor and with wall paper and carpet that haven’t been changed or updated in years, giving the whole place a dirty sort of look. He used to see this place as something great, a place to finally have his own freedom away from back home. Being dirt cheap had been a benefit rather than a warning sign, and not having to live with his parents was enough of a boon to overlook just how dull this place had always been. Now? It felt tainted, sickened by his presence. It was hard to overlook the pillow and blanket nestled in the corner by the TV, once a bed to another and now just another pile of clutter as he never bothered to pack those back up. The TV too was also silent, seldom played anymore outside of as background noise to pretend it wasn’t so lonely in here, and as a result, it was currently deathly silent save for the sound of his footsteps and heavy breathing, which made it easier to focus on how much his throat hurt and how it felt like he hasn’t drank anything in days.

Fuck, when was the last time actually he drank some water, it probably wasn’t a good sign he couldn’t remember. When was the last time he even went out to get food and water too? A quick walk to and glance inside his fridge revealed it nearly empty, just some half-drank cola drinks which had no doubt lost their carbonation (no thanks, the taste now just reminded him of that night on the roof), some unidentifiable foods which had clearly been fresh at one point but now were on the verge of becoming so rotten they were impossible to tell what food they even were (He’ll throw them out later), and lastly, there was some cheap booze on the side door that’s been in there for months. Andrew never really drank, not enough for it to be called a habit of his at least, so you had no idea where he even got this alcohol. He just showed up with it one day and put it in the fridge, perhaps planning something, but whatever that may have been never came into fruition. Did alcohol even quench thirst? Ivan took a bottle, thankful the cap was easy to remove before taking a deep swig… only to immediately nearly puke it back out, the taste revolving. He was half-tempted to just dump it down the sink, but thirst won out and eventually he put the bottle back to his lips, drinking what could perhaps be considered a worrying amount for someone who hasn’t eaten anything and could be considered a lightweight. Regardless, he didn’t exactly care about such things right now.

Strange, everytime he moved his head up and looked at the clock, he could’ve sworn that it was fast forwarding with each blink, clock hands moving too fast for their own good. Each sip seemed to make at least another ten minutes past by in a blink, so it was probably a good idea to get to his bedroom before he ended up collapsing out here. Plus, he was already starting to run out of alcohol, and he’d rather be pathetic laying in bed then pathetic sitting at his small kitchen table.

Stumbling, Ivan could swore he could already feel the alcohol starting to kick in, it not helping his already sickly state, and his hands were starting to hurt as he all but slammed them into the wall in his efforts to make it to the bedroom, nearly falling over every other step. Thankfully, these walls were pretty soundproof, otherwise his neighbors would be privy to the sounds of him nearly putting holes in his wall as he slammed his bedroom door wide open, uncaring of how the doorknob would always fly directly into the wall. He couldn’t help it, being in his bedroom was worse then out in the living room because… well, it was right there, staring at him.

He never came back for it, that computer he would spend hours upon hours on working on his games, he somehow managed to disgust the other so much they would throw away hours of their work, abandon so much of their progress just to not see him again. Ivan always wondered how Andrew got by without it, he had no real source of income so to leave this behind would not just be throwing away his game-making skills but his only real way to make money since he could barely hold a job to save his life. He was grateful, however, this computer was his lifeline these days.

So many hours he had spent just booting it up, just staring at the screen, at that old default wallpaper Andrew set up but never bothered to change, desktop messy and filled with random files of whatever he had been working on the latest with no rhyme or reason. He always had a system where even though his work was near incomprehensible to look through by anyone else, he could handle the mess so easily. As for Ivan’s usage, he would just observe, opening up old unfinished game projects left behind but also to look at his old emails and note pad writings of thoughts and ideas, mostly intended as reminders for himself. There was even a copy of the rom he leaked out of spite, the one that made Andrew come back after suddenly leaving one day just to hit him… it felt so minor now. It could’ve all gone so differently if Andrew just saw things eye to eye with him, the other was perfect in bear every other way except his writing, but he just always refused to see his way and let him fix up the script.

Sigh, he actually regretted it now. Andrew had been an idiot about it, to not see his way, but if Ivan had known ahead of time it would’ve been like this, he’d have kept his mouth shut and not touched it. Andrew had been upset before, but he had at least answered back his texts, gave the promise that in time he’d see Ivan in person again, now his texts to him weren’t even left of read, Andrew simply not even bothering to give a glance at his pleas to talk. Fuck, he was an idiot to not see his father had nine people show up for his funeral, he doubted he’d have even three.

Flinching suddenly, there was an unwelcome visitor in his room now, a hulking thing at the desk where Andrew’s computer had been moved to, no features visible except its mildly human shape and darkened strings that seemed to be impaled in the walls like a puppet. Ivan couldn’t tell if it was looking at him or the computer, no real lack of eyes present as it’s ever-changing body seemed incapable of being still for even a second. It just watched in the same position Andrew would sit in, once gushing over his ideas proud of himself before eventually becoming reserved and quiet at his presence. This… thing, he had no idea what it was, but its words were powerful, digging deep into his skull and refusing to ever leave and it terrified him greatly.

“So, so, pathetic,” its voice was twisted, retched, some weird mix between his own and Andrew’s voice, he both loved and hated it, “couldn’t do it? Finally able to see what the right thing to do is, finally figured it out, but too cowardly to push through. It would’ve been so easy,” it didn’t even sound like it was trying to taunt him, just resigned. Whatever it was, it wasn’t some hell-ridden beast from hell trying to make him miserable, no, it spoke like its words were simply true. It was probably right.

“I know.”

“Do you know? I think if you knew, you wouldn’t be here right now.” And Ivan growled, letting himself collapse onto the bed. He didn’t need it right now, he already knew he was a fuck-up, “wallowing instead of making things right, did anyone expect any better from you.” He did his best to ignore it… he wasn’t doing a good job at that.

Right now, he just wanted to sleep, to close his eyes and sleep for a year straight in the hopes that when his eyes finally re-opened, Andrew would be there, finally having read his messages and forgiving him. Those words were like drugs, the repeating “I forgive you” on loop in the few positive dreams he had. Yes, he deserved to be forgiven, he had always done right by Andrew, always trying to help. Sure, leaking that game was a bit anger-fueled, but it was what Andrew deserved for throwing out his work, for abusing his kindness.

His thoughts drifted back to that time he spent the night out by Andrew’s place, going out to find rosemary and finding his script, blown away from whatever trash Andrew tossed them in, the first dozen or so pages having red marker scribbled on them everywhere in criticism, stopping after a while as he seemed to give up on reading them. His fingers dug into the sheets as his sadness was replaced with anger. No, Andrew deserved it, he had been stalling on working on that game and is writing was mediocre at best, so much was on the line of it selling well and he refused to let him help, and… and…

What was that clicking noise?

He raised his head, anger momentarily forgotten but quickly returning when he saw that rumor typing away at the keyboard, black sludge left behind with its fingers’ every movement.

“So delusional, he was right to call you a liar.”

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing!” It just continued staring, this time clearly keeping its attention on Ivan even though it was writing so fast. The sounds of it was driving him mad, so similar to the nights when Andrew would stay up late working even when Ivan was trying to sleep, claiming he had a burst of motivation he needed to act on then and there, even though most of said work would be rushed and barely usable in the morning, “listen to me, don’t you dare touch that!”

“Pathetic, clinging to Hope selfishly like a starving rabies-infested mutt with a bone, too much of a coward to even accept your own wallowing, always have to hurt somebody else.” It’s claws suddenly plunged into the keyboard, threatening to destroy it and before Ivan knew what he was doing, he was rushing out of bed, trying to use his body weight to push this tumor away before it broke everything, hands digging into its organ-like skin.

“Stop that! I swear to- I’ll fucking kill you!” And yet it seemed unbothered at his raising voice, still typing despite his hands digging in with a sort of manic anger, blood the same color of its skin coating his nails.

“You can’t, you already failed to.” It said calmly, hitting the enter key before its body shifted. He was suddenly aware of how big it was, forced to curl in that chair to not have its head touch the ceiling. For once, it stopped being passive and grabbed him by the hair, holding him in place, “do you not see? There’s no point in even keeping this thing, you know how it’ll turn out, might as well accept it now that you won’t like what you get back,” it spoke, words cryptic and probably holding some meaning but right now, Ivan was too focused on trying to dig his teeth into its limbs, that anger in him just wanting to hurt and hurt.

He could see the screen lit up from the corner of his eyes, words of gibberish present as the letters always seemed to be shifting, whatever the hell it was typing not even appearing to be any real language, and yet, whoever was on the other end seemed to understand as a message popped up, equally as lost on Ivan. He could hear the tumor click its non-existent teeth.

“I told you, never going to fix anything. It’s ruined, he ruined you and you want to ruin him back too much to ever change.” And suddenly his head was crashing forward into the keyboard, over and over, pain in his head as the beginning of a migraine started, “he already won’t speak to you again, might as well take the pieces of wood that fell in the water when the bridge collapsed and burn them too.”

Ivan growled like he truly was the mutt the tumor called him as, finally managing to shake off its grip, forced to back up until he could feel the wall. It made no effort to follow him cocking its head in curiosity, not at Ivan but at what was above him… the axe. It was coated in blood, more red from that visible than its actual paint, and it glimmered ominously. This thing haunted his dreams, yet also felt so natural in his hands. With a shaky grip, he reached for it, it feeling heavier than normal and he heard the thing make a noise of disappointment.

“You’re really trying this? You think this would change anything now?” It spoke, voice raspier, losing its traces of Andrew in it as its form seemed to become even less stable, “well, I can’t stop you, but don’t be surprised when this falls apart, when we see again.”

Ivan just scowled, before raising the axe and plunging it directly into what he presumed to be its skull. It collapsed all too easily, form crumpling as its limbs all violently stopped. He was expecting more, for the axe to not do a thing to it but all it did was give a few violent shakes before stilling, body slumped as he couldn’t even whimper. The screen before it was still glowing with meaningless words, a conversation he wasn’t privy too. Curiosity rang alongside anger but the second he touched the keyboard it burned his very fingers. A glance showed the keys clicking by themselves, seemingly at random as the conversation kept going without input, not caring if he was there to see. In an impulsive move, he grabbed the keyboard and slammed it against the wall, ignoring the fast regret as the computer suddenly shut off, the words shared suddenly cut off, conversation left unfinished.

He felt tired, so tired, so he just laid it back on the desk, ignoring the tumor’s corpse and the way the computer was suddenly so lifeless, dropping the axe in his other hand and trying not to flinch at the thud. With no target, the anger was draining out of him fast, the reflection he could see in the computer’s screen monstrous. He didn’t even know why he just killed it, it’s not like it was wrong, was it? He let his head thud against the wall, imagining it was somebody else he was leaning into rather than just wood. When… when did he start crying? He didn’t deserve to cry, not anymore.

The air now felt like it was filled with lead, too quiet once more as Ivan turned, falling into the bed and not even caring when his knees hit the edge uncomfortably hard, the pillow and blanket offering no comfort or warmth he could feel let alone care about. It felt sickening to be here, like he would throw up if he even tried to greedily stay in such comfort so next thing he knew, he was stumbling again, out of the bedroom and into the living room. The clock read a hard to believe 3:32, how had it already been nearly an hour, he was only in there for a few minutes?

No, not important to dwell on, what was important was that pillow and blanket, tucked away in a forgotten corner. He nearly collapsed onto it, knees buckling as he couldn’t hold himself up anymore. The floor was anything but comfortable, the blanket thin and the pillow one of his oldest and smallest, and yet the mere memory of who this once belonged to brought more comfort than his actual bed, and he curled himself up in the scratchy fabric.

He could see his father watching with disapproval, clicking his tongue. It wasn’t normal, none of this was, not his feelings, his thoughts, his actions, anything. Andrew was right, it was probably for the best his father was dead before he could see how disgusting he was.

——————

 

Sent March xx, xxxx 2:43AM

To [email protected]

From [email protected]

Subject: (no subject)

Im sorry im sorrry srry for beng a fuckup, sorry I couldnt do it, imm sorry for hurrting you. Im horrible miss youu more then anythungg loov you and mis you please forgive mme. I couldnt do it, couldnt finish it im sorry, youre rightt about me I shouldnnt have ddone it i miss youu caant do anythiig withot yuu ples messag back.

 

———

Sent March xx, xxxx 3:10AM

To [email protected]

From [email protected]

Subject: (no subject)

Ivan, what is this? Please don’t message me, I need this account in case I get a job opportunity, I don’t have the time to replace it right now, please just leave me be.

———

Sent March xx, xxxx 3:14AM

To [email protected]

From [email protected]

Subject: (no subject)

Imm sorry Im sorry I’m so sorrrry I didn’t meen it. Please dont hate me I cantt sleep anymore withot you heer. Couldnn eev finih the job im sorry.

———

Sent March xx, xxxx 3:26AM

To [email protected]

From [email protected]

Subject: (no subject)

You’re starting to concern me, if this is some joke or way to try and get back at me, please stop, I don’t want anything to do with you anymore.

———

Sent March xx, xxxx 3:28AM

To [email protected]

From [email protected]

Subject: (no subject)

I’m sorry, I love you.

———

Sent March xx, xxxx 3:35AM

To [email protected]

From [email protected]

Subject: (no subject)

Ivan? What are you doing right now? You’re scaring me.

———

Sent March xx, xxxx 3:49AM

To [email protected]

From [email protected]

Subject: (no subject)

Why did you stop messaging me, please tell me you’re ok.

———-

Sent March xx, xxxx 4:03AM

To [email protected]

From [email protected]

Subject: (no subject)

You got me to open up your texts so I guess if this was your plan, you’ve succeeded, so can you please just message me back, please?

—————————

Andrew liked to believe that he was a good person, someone who would always do the right thing when push came to shove, that no matter what happened he’d always be able to look back at himself and know that he did good in this world… and yet he hasn’t felt good ever since he’s left that damned apartment.

No matter what happened, peace seemed to hate him the second he got kicked out of his home, forced to try and scrounge up enough money for his own place with little to his name but his coding skills and friends to give him comfort, or… well, just a friend, when the news broke out, he didn’t just lose his family that day.

It had been nice for a while, living on his own but it simply wasn’t sustainable, not with the struggles he had on his latest project effectively leading him into a downward spiral savings wise, so when Ivan offered for him to live with him, he’d been ecstatic… it was so hard to believe the same Ivan who comforted that night, the one who kept him from sleeping on the streets, would be the same person to scream at him every other hour, keep making changes to his game and make snide comments behind his back just carefully loud enough to ensure they’d be heard… why was everyone he met so good at seeming normal, so nice, until they just weren’t anymore?

He had finally been freed too, he may have left his system behind (he couldn’t go back, the shame of getting physical again and hitting him for leaking it was too great) but he made do with the odd jobs. Soul-crushing work it was, obviously, for as horrible as Ivan was, he stuck around as long as he did because he wasn’t build for such jobs and Ivan always earned enough to sustain them both, and even if he suddenly couldn’t, his family actually cared about him so he’d have a safety net wide enough for them both… but the financial safety just hadn’t been worth it anymore. He’d spend another million shifts getting berated by customers then another day of being woken up in the middle of the night, being yelled at for having the audacity to want to the writing in his game be his own.

Things have been good now that he left… so why did seeing those emails make him so worried? He shouldn’t care about Ivan, couldn’t, not without risking himself getting destroyed in the process. He should’ve deleted them the second he saw them, but he didn’t, and now it’s been nearly an hour of no responses after Ivan messaged out possibly the most worrying thing Andrew’s ever seen him write. He hated how he couldn’t even be fully sure they were real, or an attempt at manipulation… but at the same time, Ivan was never this mopey, even the backlog of texts he had from the man while dramatic weren’t so sloppily written or full of ominous implications, but now what? What does he even do with such messages?

He sighed, leaning back in his chair, wishing he had deleted this account like he once planned to. It was always a possibility that the other would message him through it, but some part of him was terrified of cutting him off fully, of not leaving even a single avenue to speak through so he left him up. Ivan was most of what he had left, as sad as it was, most of his other friends were long gone and he’s yet to even try and open up to anyone else yet. The thought of being alone terrified him, even if his only possible company was someone he was miserable around.

He tried not to look at it, at the image that still sat on his desk. He looked so much happier there, him and Ivan after doing… something? He couldn’t even remember what had happened that day. Was it mundane, some boring average day or did they do something special, maybe to try out a new arcade or something? Either way, they had been so happy, he didn’t have the stress lines under his eyes or a tired look and Ivan’s gaze didn’t feel malicious or judging. Memories of happier times, before he came out and was willingly left behind by so many.

His finger ghosted over the delete key, tempted. This is what he should do, leave this all behind and just pretend he never saw it, pretend it wouldn’t haunt his dreams the rest of his life if he did do something. Ivan was horrible, Ivan hurt him beyond belief and tainted his image of the one good friendship he had left, Ivan made him seek out being alone over being with him. He should delete it…

With fast typing and writing words he knew he’d regret, he snatched the car keys off his desk right as he hit send.

————————-

Sent March xx, xxxx 4:38AM

To [email protected]

From [email protected]

Subject: (no subject)

I’m coming over.

————————-

Chapter Text

“If that’s how you feel, why didn’t you tell him?”

It took four hours to reach the apartment, four long, grueling, and painful hours of non-stop driving after not getting even a single hour of sleep last night. Normally he hated coffee, he was never a fan of the stuff but it was probably the only thing still keeping Andrew awake right now… well, that and his nerves. He didn’t mean to stay up so late last night, but in his defense he hasn’t slept properly in years. There had been a brief moment of respite, after he was kicked out by his parents but before he moved in with Ivan were sleep actually came naturally to him for once, but now? Ever since he was forced to sleep on the floor for months and then eventually fled that apartment, sleep eluded him once more.

The anxiety was getting to him as well, to put it simply, Ivan didn’t write like that. He was a stickler for perfect grammar and making things as great as they could be, a man who would have a heart attack at a single misspelling in the middle of a thousand words. The Ivan he knew before he left would probably puke if he saw something as incoherently written as that! He’d feel at least a little better right now if Ivan had said anything to him, but there hasn’t been a single message at all since last night… or was it early morning? Oh it didn’t matter, what mattered is this is the same person who kept messaging him on the daily for weeks after he left, not to apologize of course, more so accusations and angry claims, and now when he finally gets a response back he goes radio silent. Those messages from last night were hanging over his head like a guillotine, what the hell did he even mean by them?! “Couldn’t finish the job-“ what job?! He couldn’t help but be terrified Ivan’s done something, something he couldn’t take back, that he would open that apartment door and-

He heard honking behind him. Right, light just went green, needed to focus on the road… but still, did he… did he make a mistake leaving so soon? Leaving when he did and out of the blue the first time and then saying he’d never return the second?

…

No, no he didn’t couldn’t, can’t forget how awful it had become. The restless nights being woken up so early in the morning, the constant fighting, the way Ivan’s gaze slowly became so crazed over time and his fixation with that axe on the wall (who even kept an axe of all thing up on display? For a man with barely anything in his apartment why is that something he even has?!). Sure, leaving when he did probably hurt Ivan… hurt him greatly given how he always seemed to lean on Andrew… and spend most of his free time around him… but what about him?! Even now, he could feel his hands trembling as he gripped too hard on the steering wheel, so anxious at the mere thought of being back in that building. Ivan was meant to be his friend! Someone he could depend on and now? He couldn’t even picture himself back in that apartment without feeling like a scared little kid all over again… and yet, despite all that…

He couldn’t get the image out of his head, the way Ivan had cowered beneath him that day when he found out about the game getting leaked, how blood poured from his nose after he sucker punched him out of anger. He also couldn’t forget the way he crawled away until he was backed up against the wall and shaking, looking at Ivan with an expression he’s never seen on him before, like he was looking at a monster about to tear at his throat. He had never… he never gave Ivan a reason to be so scared of him, right? It was one punch, why was he so scared?! It’s been so long since anyone had ever looked at him like that, it reminded him of when he was forced to scrounge around when he was younger, fighting the other hungry as he stole for scraps since his own parents didn’t bother caring enough to try and feed him. The feeling was disgusting, he had sworn to never hurt another in such a way again, but he had been so mad that hurting Ivan was just second nature in that moment. It made him feel vile, like poison was in his gut, to use his hands on the person he had cared for most, the person that… that he…

Ugh, now he felt sick again,

Almost missing his turn, he drove carefully and parked in the spot closest to the building, reserved for people who lived there, but in the time he’s stayed here that rule was never enforced once. God, he hated this place, it really was so dark and dreary even before it became so associated with such violent memories, just a sad, old, and borderline falling apart relic of the past. It had probably once been a nice place, when he looked carefully he could see ancient, chipped paint that had clearly been colorful at one point. Perhaps this place used to house a closely knit community, a plethora of people who all knew one another and lived as one, giant family. Regardless of if that pleasant thought was true, it certainly wasn’t anymore. At best if you were lucky, you’d find a person or two in the hallways, traveling to and from the place. More often though they’re either be no one at all, or someone you clearly didn’t want to be around. He knew from experience most people living here were lowlifes, they’ve tried to pickpocket him more times then he could count. He had never been able to understand why Ivan had never left this place behind, it’s not like he didn’t have the money to do so, to travel far, far away from this sad city. If Andrew had money, well, he’d have left a long time ago.

Taking one last deep breathe to try and steady himself, to avoid walking in like he’s just seen a ghost, he pried his fingers from the steering wheel and pocketed his keys before exiting, double checking to make sure the windows were closed and the door was locked as he did NOT need another situation where the insides of this thing got soaked from rain. He knew from experience that to fix such a problem took a lot more effort and work then one would think and his car already smelled bad enough from that incident. Plus, it looked like it might snow even though it was already March, it currently freezing right now, and if he suddenly had to take off for whatever reason, the last thing he needed was to have to sit in a bunch of snow and ice.

Trying to ignore the dread that was making a home in his spine, he found himself alone as he entered the apartment’s barebones foyer, a simple hallway with a little side area with an empty bookshelf and calendar on the wall that was from the previous year. As Ivan told him once, there was meant to be a worker here who occasionally would check residential IDs to stop weirdos and strangers from entering, but not once had Andrew ever seen an employee here… or ever for that matter, there might as well not be one given how often things broken around here and were simply left to rot. It was something he had been thankful for when he had moved in, not having to do any paperwork or be put on any lease as he effectively was here in secret, but now it was so sad in retrospect. This place was clearly on a downward spiral and he wouldn’t be surprised if it got condemned soon… he wondered where Ivan would go then…

He shook his head a little, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his keycard to access the elevator, suddenly thankful he never tossed the thing. He had always intended to come back at some point, not for forgiveness or anything like that, no, but to sneak in and steal away the rest of his possessions when Ivan wasn’t out. Living so far away however put a dent in those plans, it was hard to coordinate when someone would be out when you had no communication with them, had no idea what they were doing, had no idea if they even kept your stuff actually… End of the day, the plans to get back what you left behind never happened and it was easier to just leave that computer behind the confront his old friend and demand them back, and even as time passed and it became more and more obvious you weren’t ever going back, you still kept the thing, Ivan’s face plastered on the side, a duplicate of his.

It was… oddly tranquil in the elevator despite the last memory he had of this place, generic music in the air as it traveled upwards. It was oddly… well-kept compared to the rest of this place and it was easy to imagine he was literally anywhere else right now. He wasn’t in the apartment complex his former friend was right now, he was just in the elevator for a fancy little place, the floors nicely mopped, the walls still having some polish on them, nowhere he hated at all… and then the elevator doors opened and he was brought back to reality at the sight of the dirty wallpapers which probably haven’t been changed or updated since the sixties, only about half of the lights above still working and those that did still light up flickering on their last life.

He could already see it, the door right next to the rooftop access, the entrance to hell. He’s been in many fights, had guns pointed at him over stealing from the wrong person, nearly got hit by a car once but no other moment more than now has he felt the deep and primal urge to run. He wanted so desperately to turn around back into the safety of the elevator, go back into the downstairs lobby and into his car even if he somehow managed to leave his windows open and got it filled with snow, but no, he came this far drove four hours for this, he might not even have the energy right now to drive another four hours if he left. Plus, he got this far, even if this was all a bust and for nothing… might as well get that computer back? He hasn’t been able to make anything ever since he left and that urge to make something ate away at his mind a lot…

Yeah, yeah! Just here to get that computer, assuming Ivan didn’t smash it by now, hah, what are you even worried about! Those messages from last night? You could already see it coming, just some weird guilt-tripping thing, nothing serious! You’d go there, get laughed in your face for being concerned, and then you can just demand your property back and leave! Oh, so worried for nothing!

Fuck, he felt like an idiot now, so anxious over what was probably likely just nothing. Ivan will probably either yell at him or try to force him to stay, either of which he’ll just ignore. Yes, it’ll be… painful to say the least to see him again, especially to see him so upset, but little to be done! Get it done and then he can get a little rest in his car and be on his way out never to think of any of this again! Yes, just walk up to that door and stop stalling, go and knock and-!

…

He froze the second his fist hit the door, no resistance being met as it instead knocked backwards, opening up, the insides of the place pitch black.

Why did… shouldn’t this be…

Why was his apartment’s door left open?

Was he… inside? Should he just leave and pretend he was never here? He couldn’t see the guy from what little he could see, it wasn’t too late to turn back and run. He didn’t really need that computer, did he?

No, just gotta keep pushing forward, too late to turn back now.

Slowly, he pushed open the door and narrowed his eyes before flicking on the light switch, flinching like he had just been hit at the sight before him. Somehow, Ivan’s apartment had managed to get worse… by a lot. He didn’t think it was possible but somehow this place seemed almost peaceful and homey the last time he was here compared to the mess it was now. A concerningly high amount of holes lined the walls like they’ve been struck by something repeatedly, and trash and dirty clothes were strung about nearly everywhere. Ivan was never one for keeping himself tidy, when Andrew moved in he did most of the laundry runs to the laundromat nearby and did the dusting and vacuuming and what not, but this? Not to mention the alarming stains here and there, a copper brown while some were a bit more red, obviously being blood.

What the hell happened?! He always knew there was something up with Ivan, that he was lying whenever he said he was fine, but this was straight out of a nightmare! The other would never let it get this bad… right? And where the hell was Ivan anyway?! Why was his door left open and why was this place so bad, and what the hell did he even mean by those messages last night! It was like… it was like… no, no no no, he wouldn’t have, couldn’t have-?!

He suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe, those ominous messages, the way they ended with a love confession, the way he remembered Ivan’s slow descent and worsening state when he was here, how awful he looked when he came back the day Ivan leaked his game, he wouldn’t have to tried to… tried to do that because of him leaving, he just couldn’t have! No, no he’s here, he has to be here!

“Ivan, Ivan where are you!”

————————

He wasn’t alone anymore.

He could hear something, something in his apartment, voice indiscernible and little more then a screech, the nightmarish world around him twisting and turning as he curled into a ball, gripping his axe tight and trying to ignore the way his heart felt like it was trying to burst out of his chest.

It was still there, staring at him, the tumor. It hadn’t moved an inch ever since he struck it down and yet he could tell it was watching him from behind the grave. It mangled up his arms real bad, his limbs hurting like hell as they were covered in lots of marks and scratches. Thankfully most of them have scabbed already and stopped bleeding, but that didn’t stop how much they stung, especially when he would shift and accidentally rub them against anything. He needed to bandage them, he knew he had medical supplies in the bathroom, but he felt like he was glued to the floor, unable to move an inch.

It almost broke it, almost smashed apart that computer. When he first woke back up, he had nearly had a fit seeing its screen off, or how it simply wouldn’t turn on no matter how much he pressed the power button. Words could not describe the relief he felt when he had finally taken notice that it was simply just unplugged, his foot seeming to have caught on the cord at some point and detaching it. Even if the keyboard was still smashed into two pieces, he could ignore that as long as the true heart of the system was fine. He could just buy a new keyboard, something better than that barely functional one that was now stained in red, or at least, he could once he got out of this situation. His relief had been short lived the second he heard footsteps in his apartment and he was brought back to the situation at hand.

These beasts, monsters, he had no idea what they were or why they haunted him so. He understood why his father was here to mock him, but the others? This tumor haunted him so and he just knew it wasn’t dead somehow, and now? There was seemingly another beast, hopefully one not as horrific as the tumor but somehow he could just feel he wouldn’t be so lucky. Could he strike it down with his axe possibly? He hoped so, otherwise he was trapped in here. At the very least, it was taking its sweet time, walking over and seeming to investigate every little thing based on the footsteps he could make out, but it was only a matter of time until he tried to get in here as evidenced by the sound of the bathroom door opening, it still crying out in demonic gibberish.

What could it even want? To see him suffer? Has he not suffered enough already!?

He growled as there was suddenly a wriggle in the doorknob of the bedroom, followed by knocking as they couldn’t get in due to the lock. It’s words still meant nothing to him, and he stood up, axe in hand. He wouldn’t let it torment him, wouldn’t let it get the best of him. Whatever this thing was, whatever vile beast that came from Hell it was known as, he’d kill it, get it out of his head and out of his way. No more dragging him down, no more of anyone dragging him down. Andrew… sweet Andrew betrayed him, refused to see reason and threw out his scripts. He was probably against him from the very start, wanted to dig into his head and ruin everything! And this beast was no different, not it or his father or the tumor! They were all in his way to greatness, wanted him to be forgotten like trash, he’d make them pay! Couldn’t they see who he was?!

With a grip so hard it was angering some of the cuts on his hand, he moved silently towards the door, heart pounding as adrenaline pulsed. It’d regret coming here, regret tormenting him. He’s tear it to shreds until it was unrecognizable, until it was nothing at all. One click of the door, one lunge forward and a swing and it’d finally be able to understand who he really was.

“Be honest with yourself, you love this, don’t you?”

Ivan flinched, nearly dropping his axe as the tumor’s body slightly shifted, what he presumed to be its head turning to face him. For a second he swore he felt his heart stop.

“I-, I-, what?”

“You crave this, crave to be the victim.”

“I’m not,” he straightened, speaking in hush as to not alert the beast outside, “I’m not a victim, what are you on about now?”

“We can see eye to eye in that, you’re no victim, you monster.” Already the urge to dig this axe into it was growing again, “you want to be forced to cower, so you can pretend you’re worth something when these kiddie pool tides shift.”

“Shut up.”

“So sad, just a moment ago you were a shaking kitten, tucked away in the corner with your tail between your legs yet it took not even a few moments for you to rise, to pretend to be the knight of your own story. You cannot truly believe you’re good inside, do you?”

“I said, shut up.”

“You’re not brave, what kind of a man can’t even say I lo-“

“SHUT UP.” Ivan suddenly screamed, voice almost hurting as he dropped the axe, gaze deathly as he turned to face the tumor… but it wasn’t there anymore, no, it was just gone, the seat it was in empty as it and any traces of its blood were missing, like they never were there to begin with, “you, you-!”

“Ivan? Ivan, are you in there?”

His world suddenly froze, no, that wasn’t who he thought it was, right? This had to be a trick, had to be-

“Ivan, please, you’re scaring me, if you’re in there, open this door.”

Now he really felt like his heart was about to explode, breathing shallow as he stumbled backwards, bumping into the desk and nearly falling. There was, there was a monster just right there! Where did it go, where did the tumor go, and why was he here?! He said he would never come back, never return, that memory haunted him so deeply and yet?! He wanted to run forward, to unlock that door and hear the sounds of forgiveness, but this had to be a trick, some way for the world to be screwing him over yet again. Andrew wasn’t a liar, if he said he would never return he wouldn’t, so why was he here, why now?!

“Go away!” He was yelling, “get the fuck out of here!”

…

It was what he should be yelling, anyhow, but no words could escape his throat right now. This was fake, faker then any other delusion or dream he’s had, and yet he craved it, wanted to embrace this fakeness rather then embrace the reality that he was gone forever, that both one of the few people he’s ever felt close with, as well as his only way of being something people would remember, were gone…

“Ivan…” the voice was soft, almost defeated, “Ivan, please. I know how things ended last time, know that you probably despise me, but please. If you were to ever do one more thing for me ever again, please, just open the door.”

Ivan wrapped his arms around himself in some weak way of self-comfort, approaching the door, the lock his only focus. If he was strong, he’d turn around, he’d go grab his axe and cut down this copycat in his head. If he was brave, he’d probably just ignore it and collapse into bed, letting it cry out its attempts at mimicry. If he was anyone even the slightest bit better, he’d have not let himself get into this situation to begin with.

As someone who was cowardly, he unlocked the door.

Chapter Text

“You hate me, don’t you?”

For the first time in his life, there might just now be something that haunts him more then the image of his father’s charred face in that coffin, something so horrifically wrong that no nightmare he had from then on out lacks it.

“I-Ivan,” Andrew looked sickly, the expression on his face just being wrong, his voice without confidence and sounding more timid then he’s ever heard from him, “what is this, w-why…” Andrew leaning his head in more, seeming to take in the disarray of his bedroom, at Ivan’s own state and the concerning amount of blood present, mostly spilled from his arms. He’s never seen such an expression on their face before, one so scared and weak, so… traumatized. No, Andrew was confident, rarely taking anything from anyone! He was brave and humble… so why did he look so scared.

Any emotion Ivan may have just had was gone, no rage, no sadness, just pure shame as he tried to hide his arms, hiding the source of wrongness but it was too late, Andrew’s eyes were glued onto them, rubbing his own arms absent-mindlessly like he was imagining the pain. He had to, had to stop this, stop that fucking look! He couldn’t take being stared at with such pity, he didn’t need it! He’s been just fine on his own for… well, he couldn’t even remember how long it’s been since Andrew left, didn’t matter. How dare he waltz back in here!

“What the fuck are you doing here,” escaped him as a growl, fists balling. He felt like a cornered animal, puffing itself up to scare off its predators in a last ditch effort to save its own life, but Andrew just stared, his eyes only momentarily being taken off to glance around the room, searching for something but as for what, he had no idea. Eventually, his eyes fell onto the axe to where it now laid on the ground, sharpened edge redder than it should be, and he suddenly looked like he was about to puke, “I asked you a question, why the hell are you in my apartment?!”

“Ivan, what did you do to yourself,” the words were careful, ignoring Ivan’s angered yells. His expression shifted and it was like was looking at him like he was a feral animal, unpredictable and ready to bite at a moment’s notice. He was probably right to look at him like that considering how much Ivan wanted to lunge at him right now. That axe was within grabbing distance… was he even sure he was real? Would the real Andrew look at him with anything but hatred?

He was taken out of his thoughts when Andrew suddenly took a step forward, quietly and clearly trying not to have him notice.

“What the fuck are you-“

“Ivan, step away from that axe and come to me, you don’t need to do anything drastic right now.” He put both of his hands up in some semblance of a peace treaty, hands wide like he was worried the other would assume he had a weapon, “see, we’re both friends here, no need for you to get hurt, right?” And Ivan just growled.

“Friends? Oh, don’t make me fucking laugh! You think you’re welcome back here after parading around that you had better places to be?!”

A look of anger flashed momentarily on Andrew’s face, one that felt better than that scared look but he wiped it away too fast for Ivan to get much satisfaction. It was easier this way, easier to make this… thing mad at him since it wasn’t Andrew, couldn’t be, Andrew left and said he wouldn’t be coming back. He shouldn’t have even opened this door, why did he let his hopes make him unlock it? When Andrew spoke again, it was more commanding, an order instead of a plea.

“I said, get away from that axe Ivan, now.”

“And why should I listen to you, listen to someone whose only ever gotten in my way, you think you’re so perfect don’t you, think you’re better then me?!”

“Ivan, what are you even-?!”

“Well I won’t take it! Whatever reason you came here for was for nothing, you are going to get the hell out of my apartment, get out of my life, and stay out of my way for once in your life!” And the thoughts of every little thing he hated Andrew for was flashing through his head. From refusing to let him work on that game even though it was obvious his writing was better, from getting angry at Ivan’s attempts to help him, from haunting his every thoughts, from making him have dreams of which he cried and begged for his return, from-

“Then why did you email me.”

…

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, YOU were the one who emailed ME, three separate times in the middle of the night.”

Ivan just stared at him, what the fuck was he talking about?! Ivan tried to contact him in a lot of ways, from texts to phone calls to even hand writing and sending him a few letters on his worst nights when he got really desperate, but emails? He’s only done that a couple of times to Andrew’s personal one even though he knew it was barely used, and he hasn’t tried that in ages.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about-“

“Don’t, just don’t,” and he froze at how angry Andrew sounded even though his anger what just was he was just looking for a few moments prior, “don’t you fucking dare lie to me again, not now. Tell me, right now, why did you email me? If that’s all true, if you really think so little of me now that you just wanted me to stay gone, why did you email me in incoherent words, keep saying you were sorry, tell me that you-, that you…” he seemed to almost choke on his words, unable to say the last part.

At first, he really did have no idea what they were talking about, but then the creeping nightmare of last night was flooding back into his veins. That tumor… it was typing something, wasn’t it? Yeah, yeah it was… but it was illegible, impossible to comprehend, there was nothing there to be read at all?!

But… but it had sent it, sent it out to somebody, he remembered that and he remembered a message back when he glanced at that screen, a conversation. Did it message Andrew, no, this fake Andrew? What the hell did it even write?! Paranoia was starting to grow in his mind as he felt his own arms tremble a little, he was still dreaming, wasn’t he, that tumor was going to show up any second now and tell him he was an idiot for being so weak, or worse… his father would show up, that burning face stuck and engraved into his brain.

“-an, Ivan, IVAN-“

Andrew’s yells got back his attention and- when did he get so close?! Ivan instantly took a few steps back to compensate for how Andrew was walking towards him, the anger evaporated. He was… he was shaking, wasn’t he? Pathetic, he was scared of this fake now that it’s jig was up. He knew it couldn’t be real but he was already preparing for and dreading how its words were going to twist at any moment, punch him again too probably, break more than his nose this time. In the corner of his mind he could hear yelling, yelling at him to fight back, the haunting ghost of that tumor telling him to just finish things, to do right for the first time, but Ivan? He just wanted to run.

No.

He needed to run.

————————

Andrew almost got sucker punched as the other suddenly burst forward in a surprising burst of speed, and if not for his own reflexes from his childhood of fighting, he would no doubt have been left dazed and unable to react as Ivan tried to rush past him.

With a powerful grip, he thankfully grabbed onto the edge of that blue shirt before he could make any distance, the two of them falling onto the ground from the sudden lack of momentum. For a brief moment, Andrew felt like a kid again, trying to catch the mean stray cat that lived near his childhood home. It clearly had broken its leg at some point, limping and hissing at anything that moved nearby, and when he tried to catch it, wanting to childishly find a way to heal its injury, it moved like a demon straight like hell and nearly got his eye with its claws. It had gotten away, of course, and he never saw it again, and the way Ivan moved reminded him of that cat. Only, duh, he was a full grown man who in exchange for claws had wildly moving fists.

“Ivan, Ivan calm the fuck down,” he could barely get out as Ivan seemed to be in the midst of a full blown panic attack, breathing rapidly and eyes moving around sporadically, only occasionally seeming to look at and acknowledge him. God, if he knew Ivan would get this bad so fast, he might’ve not left the first time around, embraced the suffering he knew he’d continue to face if he stayed just to prevent this. Was he too harsh, was he cruel to leave? How could simply walking away do so much damage!?

Adrenaline seemed to be the only thing that kept Ivan moved because Andrew had no idea how he could have so much energy otherwise, and he tried to ignore the feeling of blood getting on his face whenever there was a punch attempt. He was so skinny though, so obviously weakened in the time they were separate that as the fight in him was drained, they barely even hurt, any blood around only Ivan’s. God, he looked horrible, he didn’t even know it was possible for a man to look so brutalized. He had seen the bloodied axe and it didn’t take a genius to know most of his injuries came from it. He had been so scared to see it at their feet when he opened that door. He probably should’ve been scared of Ivan picking it up and lunging at him with it, trying to kill him, but in that moment he had been more scared Ivan would pick up the axe and bring it upon himself instead. His feelings towards Ivan were… complicated, to say the least, a mix between love and hate but no matter how horrible they’ve been or the betrayal he was given, he didn’t think he could live with the image or knowledge of their suicide.

“Get off me, get off me!” They rasped out, but with every moment they were running out of energy and with one good maneuver, one of their arms was completely trapped, held against his back. He’s clearly been wasting away, Ivan was never into working out or trying to exercise, at least not to degree at him, but this? It was really starting to feel like Ivan hasn’t left this apartment once since he left… especially with how pale he was.

No, don’t think too hard about that, just focus on restraining him.

Eventually, and expectedly, he could feel the other slow down, unable to keep up their strength anyway near as long as Andrew could and he was quick to grab his other arm and restrain him, keeping him chest-down on the ground and holding him in place until he was sure the other wouldn’t try to run the moment he was let go.

“Please, just let me go.” Ivan said, voice soft and weak.

“Are you going to run?”

Ivan didn’t answer and so when Andrew got up, he kept his hands on the other wrists and refused to let go as he started walking to the bathroom. There was a big distinct red stain on the already dirty carpet from where they fought and it was obvious he couldn’t just let Ivan stand around bleeding everywhere for much longer. He’s probably already lost so much blood…

With a grunt, he pushed open the bathroom doors with his shoulder, having to do the same to awkwardly flick on the light switch, only letting Ivan go once he closed the door and locked it so if he got any ideas, it’d take too long for him to get out before getting grabbed again. Thankfully, the bathroom was relatively clean compared to the rest of the house, not anything close to tidy but given the state of the bedroom he half-expected this place to look nightmarish, blood all over the walls and maybe even a few mold and mushroom colonies on the walls. At worse, however, it was just dusty and with some dirty clothes settled around randomly, no rhyme or reason to their placement and clearly just left there without care whenever Ivan took a shower. There was also, thankfully, some first aid supplies in the mirror’s cabinet when he opened it, nothing too fancy but it was something Andrew forced the other to stock up on when he still lived here… he didn’t know if he should be concerned or grateful they clearly haven’t ever been touched by Ivan after he moved.

With a heavy sigh, he picked up some gauze and disinfectant, as well as a needle and some thread he kept around for emergencies. He was oddly happy right now by the fact that, given he could seldom afford to go to the hospital, he took the time to know how to do stitch work because with how deep some of those cuts went, well, Ivan was gonna need it.

“Ivan, can you please show me your arms,” and Ivan only seemed to shrink away more, “Ivan…”

“I don’t have to do anything you say.” He resisted the urge to just walk over there and force him to let him see his wounds.

“Look,” he started, trying not to sound so too forceful, “you have two options, you can either let me see you arms and I can fix them up, or I call 911 and have you sent to the hospital.”

“You wouldn’t-!”

“I would,” but he really, really hoped he didn’t have to.

Andrew… was not fond of hospitals to say the least, not because the doctors there were that bad or because he had any sort of medical reason that landed him there constantly, but more so just the associations with it. It was a bad look if your child got sent to the hospital often, his parents made that clear to him long ago and made their point obvious that under no circumstance he should go there anymore than needed. It’s been years since he’s seen them, but that anxiety still persisted and he wasn’t going to force him to go there if he could avoid it, not when he was good enough at wound care. The other seemed conflicted, still looked like he wanted to bolt, but hesitantly he pulled his arms away from himself and held them out straight, and Andrew was really grateful he was used to gruesome injuries because if he was any softer he’d pass out from the sight.

He had not a single idea how Ivan wasn’t passed out right now, if not from blood lost then from the sheer pain he had to be in. Even ignoring the obvious cuts and slashes that could have only been from his axe, he had several bruises like someone was grabbing him harshly, like they were trying to pull his arm off or rend flesh from bone. Given the state he was found in, there was nobody but himself that could’ve done this, but why? He seemed crazed when he opened that door, still seemed a bit crazed now, he had been expecting something bad when he saw those messages and came here but nothing this bad.

Trying his best not to stare too much, he took one of the few (hopefully) clean washcloths by sink, getting it wet with warm water and, as gently as feasibly possible, wiped at the dried blood in an effort to clean the wound, trying not to focus on Ivan’s hisses of pain. Maybe he should give him something to bite on? Then again, he didn’t know if it was worth the risk to make Ivan think about biting, he might try to dig his teeth into him given how feral he was fighting earlier…. And Jesus, Ivan was his friend! Used to be at least, what happened from then and now to make him wonder if the person he possibly wanted to spend the rest of his life with might try to attack him like a dog?! Why couldn’t his life just be easy for once…

“Is this necessary,” Ivan suddenly spoke, eyes a bit watery as he didn’t seem to handle the pain well, he must’ve not been feeling most of it in his haze before now, “I think I can handle this on my own.”

“Handle this on your- are you out of your mind?!” He snapped, letting out a sigh at Ivan’s flinch, “let me make it clear to you, there is not a single chance I am leaving you after what I’ve just seen, don’t even think for a second I’m letting you out of my sight.”

Andrew took the cloth, now stained with blood and threw it a bit carelessly at the small trash can in the corner of the room. The woulds could stand to look better right now but he’s gotten the most of it already, the skin angry and only a few looked big enough like they needed stitches. Seriously, though, he expected Andrew to just leave? After seeing this? That brought him back to his further questioning.

“Ivan, what the hell have you even been doing while I was gone, have you even seen your own arms?! What, were you trying to fight your own axe, is that what you’re going to try and tell me!?”

“None of your business.”

“Ivan,” the voice was in warning, “my earlier threat still stands, if you don’t corporate with me, I will personally drag you down to the hospital on foot if I have to, do you want that?”

“…no.”

“Exactly, now, tell me, no lies or deflecting.”

Ivan looked away for a moment, unsure with distrust in his eyes, anxiety obvious.

“I may have had an… incident, where I had to defend myself and got carried away.”

“Really.” The response was deadpanned.

“And I may have failed to patch myself up and got drunk last night, walked up to the roof and thought about doing something that I backed out of…” No, no, don’t tell him he meant what he thought he meant, “but ultimately nothing happened, satisfied now?”

“Are you fucking serious?”

Ivan raised his eyebrow at him, some of that earlier defiance creeping back into his face, as he huffed.

“Oh don’t pretend to care, we both know you don’t, you made that very clear.” His next words were mutterings, mostly to himself and lost on Andrew who was trying not to spiral, a ringing making itself known in his ears. How could he be so casual?! Act like he didn’t care like he didn’t just wrestle him to the ground and keep him captive in his own bathroom to take care of his arms, sacrifice the little peace he’s been having to come over when HE was the one who emailed him?! He could faintly feel Ivan try to move, to pull away and his grip tightened before he could.

“No.”

“No? What do you mean no, let me leave already.”

“I said no!” He suddenly yelled, willingly raising his voice for the first time in weeks as he stared Ivan dead in the eyes, not letting him avoid his gaze, “you are going to listen to me for once in your life, you got that!?” No response, “I said, do you understand.”

“Get on with it.”

“I checked my email late at night last night, saw three concerning messages from you and immediately left to come over, drove four hours despite not getting any sleep last night and risked falling asleep at the wheel and crashing because I was worried about you not messaging back, came in here and literally threw you to the ground to prevent you from running just so I could help with your injuries, and you wanna say I don’t care.”

Ivan continuously shrunk down on himself at his words, rare guilt in his face increasing with every word.

“Well, you-“

“Do you really think I don’t care? Really, truely? After everything?” The other was meek, silent, “because If we’re being honest, I shouldn’t care, should’ve just deleted those messages the moment I saw them and just moved on with my life. If I asked any therapist on what to do, any stranger in the streets they would’ve said I should have just left you to rot, but I didn’t, couldn’t,.” He paused to breathe, to push down the wetness in his eyes that threatened to leak, “I hate what you’ve done to me, hate what you made me feel and I doubt I could ever see you the same way again after what you put me through, but don’t say or even think for a single moment that I don’t care, so please…”

————————-

“Please stop saying I don’t care.”

Ivan was starting to think this was real, that this wasn’t just a nightmare or just some monster from his mind trying to torment him, and it left him… disoriented. Andrew stared at him, out of breath just from talking, desperation in his eyes as he kept holding onto one of the few areas of his arms that didn’t have a cut. He could see it now, that tumor, standing right behind Andrew and whispering so loudly he could barely focus on the pink-wearing man.

“You know what to do.” It spoke, voice antsy and aggressive, “do it.”

“Ivan, please, just look at me and stop ignoring me.”

“Just a few words, and you’ll lose him forever, it’s what you deserve, don’t you know? He wastes so much time caring about you when you just leech off him. Just a waste of space, can’t make a name for yourself and can’t stop hurting the only person you care about, do him a favor and let him go.”

“Do you even care, Ivan?”

“Tell him you don’t care, Ivan,” he swore he could feel its grasp, a choking sensation around his neck like a noose and he couldn’t inhale, couldn’t feel the pain in his arms, couldn’t even think, “just a few words, will be the easiest thing you ever do, the last good thing you ever do.” He should do it, just get things over with.

“Ivan?”

He opened his mouth to speak…

———————————

“I’m sorry.”

Andrew’s world suddenly froze, head snapping back up from when his gaze drifted to look back at Ivan’s wounds.

“What?”

“I- I’m…” Ivan didn’t seem like he could get anything else out before his words turned into heaves, face scrunching up as it was obvious he was trying not to cry, turning his gaze away and using his hands as a shield for his face, “I’m sorry, I-I’m so sorry, please, I can’t take it anymore, you left and it’s just so, so-“ nothing else that could be understood left his lips.

Those two words… they were words Andrew had been hoping to hear for a long time, from when Ivan told him he had to sleep on the floor, from when he kept messing with his game’s coding, and even now when the situation was at its most dire, some tiny part of him trilled at hearing it, wanted to leap into Ivan’s arms and say he forgave him, say nothing in the past mattered, but his next words came more natural then that.

“I don’t forgive you.” Ivan’s gaze weakly turned to him, eyes fulls of despair, “I don’t forgive you Ivan, I can’t, not now, but…” he clarified, hesitant as he knew his next words meant everything, could change the course of his life forever, “I won’t leave, won’t leave again as long as you cooperate, just… we’ll talk about this later, just show me your arms again,” he said, any confidence he started out with escaping. This was… harder than it was in his dreams. In his dreams he would either imagine a happy reunion, forgiveness coming easy like some fairy tail ending, or other times he would imagine telling Ivan he wanted nothing to do with them and finally getting over it. Now that he was dealing with that in reality with a pair of arms in his hands, before his friend as they cried? He felt stupid for thinking it could ever be that easy.

It was easier to calm down by just focusing on disinfecting the wound, taking a different towel and cleaning it as best he could, doing one arm at a time and letting Ivan squeeze his shoulder to try and distract himself. He worked as fast as possible, hating to see them in pain and before he knew it, the small bottle was nearly empty. Stitching wasn’t an easier process, as while only a few notable cuts needed it, it required a still hand that Andrew barely had right now, but, within time and enough patience, all that was left was to wrap the injuries and that was the easier part.

“There, arms all done, that’s the worst of it, yes? Besides your nose?” Truth be told, Andrew always forgot about the nose as whenever he looked at Ivan’s face he was more focused on the eyes, but his nose was no doubt broken and a trail of blood leaked down. Hmm, he’d probably need ice for that, but he doubted Ivan had any given how small his freezer was, so he settled for giving it a quick wipe down and setting it. It looked… bad, painfully obvious, but little else to be done right now.

Now came the hard part, not caring for the wound of course, but the aftermath. A sort of question lingered in the air… now what? There was a herd of elephants in the room with them begging to be addressed but he didn’t have the energy or want to discuss them right now. Weirdly, he sort of liked this quiet between them, he could pretend this was before, that things weren’t so shitty between them right now, but eventually reality had to be acknowledged and he took in a deep breath to get back his nerve.

“So, are you… feeling better? Not hurt as bad?” God, this was awkward, especially since Ivan didn’t even fully respond, just nodding his head a little. He was already regretting saying he wouldn’t leave, truthfully, not because he wanted to ditch Ivan but because he didn’t know if he could even handle sleeping here tonight if needed.

Actually, he just needed out as a whole, needed out of this apartment and somewhere not so horrible and full of bad memories, but where would he even go? It was a four hour drive back to his house after all and he still hasn’t slept in over twenty-four hours, plus, he already told Ivan he wouldn’t leave and he couldn’t bring him there, not now, both because he had roommates he would have to worry about and also because he didn’t exactly feel comfy about Ivan knowing where he lived, if this all blew up in his face the last thing he needed was him to come by his home, it’s not like he could exactly afford to move after all, but then what?

…wait.

“Hey, uh, Ivan,” their head snapped to him, seemingly having been lost in thought, “does your mother still send you money every month? I know that you told me that once,” and it was something he was always grateful for. It was a safety net Ivan told him about once, just in case the worse happened and Ivan lost his job, they wouldn’t have to be out on the streets. He wasn’t sure the exact amount, he just knew it was more than enough to cover this place and then some.

“… yeah?”

“Then pack your bags, take any clean clothes you have left, we’re leaving.” And he stood up, taking the leftover medical supplies and exited the bathroom, looking for something to place them in, Ivan shooting to his feet and following.

“What? What do you mean you’re leaving, already?”

“No, not just me, you too.”

“I… really? Where the hell are you trying to take us.”

“I’m not staying here any longer, and you aren’t either, there’s a motel less than twenty minutes away I saw on the way here and you’re paying, I refuse to stay here.” And he just stood there, silent and broody, seemingly in disbelief.

“You, you want me to come with, you aren’t leaving me?”

“I said I wouldn’t, now are you coming along or not?”

It was silent for a few moments, before Ivan responded with the slightest bit of something that wasn’t misery or anger in his voice.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

Chapter Text

“I’ve been daydreaming and living in my mind until I can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t.”

To Andrew, his car was a symbol of peace, something he’s always had and would stick with him until the end, a place of solace he could retreat to when absolutely necessary. When one’s parents were fickle on whether or not they were willing to raise them, having at least something he could still sleep in had been a blessing. He felt like a captain with his beloved ship whenever he was in it… just without naming it, he wasn’t that far gone yet. Now however… he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this off-kilter being in here.

Ivan was silent, refusing to look at him and instead just staring out the window as he drove, clutching his arm and occasionally… god, he didn’t know if he could do this. He so desperately wanted to just turn on his radio and put it at max volume to tune out the silence but it felt grossly inappropriate given the current situation. That question kept ringing in his head, now what? They reach that motel and then? Do they talk, just sleep? He hasn’t put a single thought into this, didn’t have the chance to even try as he’s done this all on a whim. Half of him wished he never came and just tuned out and forgot about those messages, the other half was deeply terrified that if he didn’t come, the next thing he’d hear about Ivan is that his corpse was found.

“Why is there a blanket and pillow in the back of your truck?” Ivan suddenly said, still not looking at him.

“What?”

“I peeked while you were getting your stuff from upstairs, under the truck cover in the bed there’s a pillow and blanket… why?”

Right… he forgot about that, he didn’t think Ivan would snoop so much but he should’ve expected it, this was Ivan after all. He literally threw out some of his stuff the day he first moved in thinking it was trash.

“Oh, when I moved out, I lied, lied about having a place lined up. Slept in the car for a while.” And Ivan shrunk in on himself, arms curled around his body again.

“You’d rather have been homeless than live with me?”

Andrew didn’t know what to say to that, the answer obvious yet it made him feel sick to say so he just let the question hang in the air, knowing Ivan probably already knew said answer. He had never felt more grateful before in his life to see the motel up ahead and around the street corner, a decently sized place with a blue roof that was… in shambles and most of the tiles looked ready to fall off… god his sleeping arrangements weren’t going to get better, were they?

“Oh hey, we’re here!” He said a bit too loudly, trying to distract himself from Ivan’s previous question, driving recklessly as he turned in park as he was desperate to leave the suffocating air of his truck, “I’ll go and buy us a room, you just wait here, got it!”

“…got it.”

“Yep good we’re all good be back in a few minutes.”

He practically leaped out of the car, almost forgetting to swipe Ivan’s wallet that was left on the dashboard before walking to the motel, trying to ignore the way he could just tell Ivan was staring after him. Shit, he was being too obvious, he was never one to hide his emotions, never could and seldom ever wanted to. He wouldn’t be surprised if he returned to his car and found Ivan ran off and he didn’t know if he’d be happy or upset at such a thing. Regardless, he marched up to that motel lobby and heard a soft chime of a bell, the women at the counter not even turning her head to look at him, seemingly deep in some conversation as she tapped away on her flip phone.

“What do you want?” She said bluntly, “single bed rooms are thirty a night, forty for double beds, we only take cash.”

“Double beds, definitely double beds.” Thank god, he didn’t want to have to sleep on the floor again.

“How long?”

…

He probably should’ve thought about this more before walking in, how long was he even going to be staying around for Ivan’s sake? The women glanced at him for a moment with her eyebrow raised.

“You get a 10% discount if you stay a week.”

“Yes, yes we’ll just say a week.”

“Hmmph, pay up, we take it in advance and no refunds if you leave early, there’s a heavier fee if you stay longer then you pay for now.” She said unhelpfully, hand outstretched, “252.”

“Aren’t there meant to be taxes-“

“Give me the money before I take away the discount.”

Andrew zipped his lips, taking out a few fifty’s and one’s. Ivan really did know how to pick places to live in, didn’t he? Maybe he should’ve just taken the extra hour to drive out of town for something nicer, it’s not like he was paying for this after all. Then again, too late for regrets like that now, the woman was counting the money and given her attitude so far he could tell he wasn’t getting it back even if he said he wasn’t staying here anymore, especially as she turned and plucked a pair of keys off the wall in the midst of a bunch of hooks.

“Room 207, before you ask the pool out back is out of service, someone broke a glass bottle in it and it’s not getting cleaned soon, don’t go in and give us a lawsuit or you’ll regret it.”

“Noted.”

She didn’t say another word, already back to typing as she pocketed the cash and Andrew took that as a sign to leave. He could only pray at this point the rooms weren’t infested with bed bugs or mice but, even though everything else was horrid, that lobby had been well-kept so hopefully, if he was to be given any sort of leeway, he wouldn’t be bringing home pests whenever he returned back to his house. The last thing he needed was for his roommates to band together to toss him out after infesting the place. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he saw his truck again and saw Ivan was still inside, staring intensely off into the distance. What he was looking at, he had no idea but he snapped his head when Andrew opened up his car door and tossed back his wallet.

“We’re upstairs, think we got the room all the way but one room to the right. You grab your stuff, I’ll grab mine and unlock the door.”

Ivan didn’t give a response, but still got up and out of the car, all the belongings he chose to take with being hastily shoved into two duffle bags. Mostly just being an assortment of the cleanest clothes Ivan had, most of which being near identical to each other as Ivan always had horrible fashion tastes. Seriously, Andrew didn’t know if he could even judge since he still always wore this pink hoodie he’s had since high school, but at least underneath was a respectable t-shirt instead of the shitty ouija board t-shirts the other had. The text didn’t even fit properly and stretched too long around the edges! And yet he owned like three copies of that shirt and everything else he had wasn’t much better. He knew it was petty to be upset about but it drove him crazy!

…And yet he still felt like the loser in this situation because he didn’t bring any clothes with him from home except for one full pair… for as many problems as there was with Ivan’s fashion choices, he at least had clothes to wear right now. Andrew knew he’ll probably be using a lot of quarters these upcoming days, he just hoped the nearest laundromat was within walking distance.

Instead of clothing, all of his luggage was just some of his old stuff Ivan still had like his beloved computer. He was surprised it wasn’t tossed out, but while it seemed like he had been planning to take them to the dump at some point, they were instead left packed by the door, covered in dust but ultimately unharmed even if they were clearly tossed thrown inside in a fit of anger without even a single thought to organization. There wasn’t really a lot, despite Ivan’s claims that he hadn’t packed lightly when moving in, as there wasn’t even enough to fill three boxes to the top, a mix of old trinkets and games and a few other scattered things. He just couldn’t leave them behind, and spent almost ten minutes just lugging them to the elevator and back down to his truck while Ivan sat around and watched, seeming unnerved but he hadn’t questioned him on it. He would’ve left them in the car but in this city? Would be stolen before he could blink, best to bring them inside.

Speaking of, as they walked up those stairs and finally got into the motel room, Andrew would’ve thanked god if he was religious at the fact the insides looked normal. They weren’t anything special, not at all, but that was what he was hoping for. There was a few mystery stains on the carpet and walls, and it seemed three of the four lights in the room were completed dead when he flicked on the switch, but he could live with that. While he couldn’t yet rule out the lack of pests, that’s a problem he’d deal with later as he didn’t have the mental capacity to add yet another thing to worry about right now. He needed to either eat or sleep first, preferably eat in case the bed bugs were real. Speaking of, he needed food, his stomach practically hurt from hunger.

“Hey, Ivan?” The other looked at him, hands halfway through his duffle bag as he took out some of his clothing and put in one of the drawers, “are you starving too, anything around here worth eating? Restaurants or fast food, I mean, I never really ate much when I still lived around here.”

“I guess… I really only ever get food from the pizza place now, I haven’t really… well, gone out much to eat.”

Andrew wouldn’t mind pizza right now, but it wasn’t even eleven yet so it’d be a total coin flip if they were open right now and the place was pick-up only so if he wanted to gamble it, he’d risk taking the drive and wasting gas while returning empty handed.

“Anywhere else?” Ivan just stared at him a bit blankly, “alright, guess not, pizza it is, I think I remember the way to there in my head, is there anything you specifically want on it?”

“Why are you asking me now? aren’t I coming with.” Andrew tried not to be caught off guard by the question. He was hoping to get a bit of freedom here.

“Well, I, I think it would be best you stay behind, maybe get settled and take a shower… or maybe don’t actually If you don’t know how to re-wrap your arms,” he spoke nervously, hating the look he was being given. He needed this, needed a moment by himself where he could just think, “j-just get settled, alright? It won’t be long and- wait, give me some cash again, please? Thanks, but yeah, yeahillbebacksoonseeya!”

He practically slammed the door shut behind him due to the worsening look he was being given, wincing at the noise and knowing he was definitely heard by some of his current “neighbors,” but he quickly stopped caring as he felt he could finally breathe, nearly collapsing at the door as the weight of today was starting to become too much to bare. He’d be back sooner than he’d like, but he needed this, needed a proper break, he’d get that pizza and maybe take a small break or five along the way to just stand around and relax before heading back. In fact, if the place was closed he’d just wait there for it to open, anything for just a few more minutes alone. Then, when he’d get back, he’d eat and collapse asleep for the next twenty hours, then he’d deal with this, yes, just had to make it through today.

God, why couldn’t this be as easy as it was in his head? With a sigh, he turned and headed back to his truck, only realizing once he got in that he forgot to grab money but he couldn’t force himself back in there so soon, he’d just suck it up and use his own cash, how much could one pizza even cost?

——————

“What are you trying to accomplish?”

While Ivan had begged for a break from the tumor, he now realized he should’ve been more specific, his fathers eyes… or lack of them were staring at him, disappointment obvious in his charred face. Sometimes he’d get lucky and it’d be blurred in his mind, censored like he was looking at a newspaper of a dangerous incident, but not this time, every detail apparent as he felt clearer then he’s ever been. Ignoring it was a losing game, it never went away from being ignored but Ivan still did so regardless.

Well, tried to ignore him at least, it was hard to ignore the corpse of your father sitting at the only table in the room, leaving behind bits of blood wherever its hands wandered to. Why did Andrew have to leave, they were always louder when he was gone. He had finally had a brief moment of respite when he stuck nearby but now his father was louder then ever.

“I asked you a question, son.”

“Nothing, nothing at all.” It tsk’d, disappointment obvious.

“I thought I told you to not step back, why is he here?” His father stood, walking closer to him and growling, “I said, Why. Is. He. Here?”

“I don’t know.”

“You do know, you ignored me, ignored me and cried out for him like a pathetic little worm. I thought I told you to stop, to move on and make your own legacy and yet here you are still relying on him.” Ivan did his best to look away but a hand gripped onto his chin and dug in, forcing him to stare at the face that haunted him, “you’re a fucking disappointment, what happened to my son? You’ve wriggled your way into my family and replaced him and I want him back.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not, parasites don’t say you're sorry. Used to be so much better, good grades, into the sports I wasted what I had to get you in and for what? To claim you had a passion and to run off? This is all just the natural consequences of your actions. I still reached out to help you and you ignored me so stop pretending this coffin isn’t yours to lay in.”

“You didn’t-“

“Shut up, if you wanted to prove you’re sorry, you’d have already walked out that door, returned home, got back into what I’ve guided you to and never have let that freak into my house to begin with, but you’re not sorry, you’ll never be sorry, forced me to die after lying to my face pretending to change.”

“I didn’t do jack shit!” Ivan suddenly snapped, “you chose to ran off into a burning building and die, don’t pretend it’s my fault.”

“Pathetic, I’d rather die than live with you, I feel that says a lot about you.” He finally let go of his chin, pacing around the room, “even now you still ruin my legacy, went off and told your little freak all about me, tarnished my name in their head because of your own jealousy of me. Why did I ever think you could amount to something when you still use my own name for sympathy?”

Ivan couldn’t even respond to that one, memories of that one night flashing in his head. The stars… they had been so pretty and he had been willing to let down his guard, just once, and Andrew? He left, left him up there alone after telling him about the memories he had of his father.

“Used my name for sympathy and it didn’t even work, and yet you still wait like a fucking dog for his return when he wouldn’t even do the same for you. Why do you degrade yourself with people beneath you?” Ivan choked, “And don’t you dare cry, real men don’t cry. Actually, do cry, we both know you’ll never be a real man anyways so lower yourself further, it barely matters now, even if you do somehow prove yourself, it’s not like I’ll ever see it.”

Ivan couldn’t stop himself, tears falling as he tried desperately to stop it, but every attempt at holding it in just made his chest hurt and worsened it. He was right, deep down he knew it, knew he was a failure. Why, why did he do it, let Andrew into his home when he knew what would follow, knew how the disappointment would ring. He found himself wishing he never brought him over, not to his parents, not to his own him, didn’t invite him to live with him? Maybe then his life would be good if he just followed the script laid out for him.

“Tch, all this, and for someone who didn’t even care about you, how sad.”

And just like that, Ivan froze, sobs halfway cut off at the accusation. Andrew didn’t care, right? But… no, no Andrew said he cared, yelled at him for even thinking he didn’t, came all the way back from who knows where in the middle of the night, or morning, or whatever! That was wrong, had to be, Andrew couldn’t not care and do all of that. His father turned, noticing his sudden silence as his sobs died down.

“Now what’s gotten into you?”

“You… You’re wrong...”

“What did you just say to me?” The voice was a warning but Ivan ignored it.

“I said you’re wrong! He does care, I know he does!”

“Delusional…”

“No I’m not! You’re lying, you’re a liar!” He stood up, shorter than his father but still trying to meet his gaze head on, “you had to have seen it, seen what he’s done, did for me that you would never! He cares and I know it!”

“And you’re willing to stand by that? Put that to the test?” He towered over him, taking a step forward as Ivan almost tripped back onto the bed, his finger prodding at his chest in anger, “put strain on that lie and see if it still stands?”

“It’s not a lie, I-I would-“

“Then do it, go ahead and try to prove me wrong and that you haven’t just been wasting your time ignoring my advice. When this is all said and done, you’ll be alone, worse off than if you left him behind like I said, no legacy, no family, and no freak to rely on. Why, actually, why don’t we make it a bet, hmm?”

“What?” And he hated the way it grinned at him, so smug and sure of itself.

“Well, if he leaves, you’ll accept I was always right about you, hmm?” It wrapped its arms around his shoulders in some mockery of a comforting hug, “you’ll accept I was right to be so judgmental and that you are a failure, one who always should’ve listened to me.”

“I won’t-“

“You will, you have no choice. When this all comes crashing down you’ll have nothing but yourself, and in that case you’d have been better off with nothing at all.”

“And… And if you’re wrong, if he does stay after all of this?”

“Then congratulations, you’ll always be stuck leeching on somebody else, a fitting future I’d say.”

“I’m not a leech.”

“Oh Ivan, of course you are? What legacy is worth having if you can only have it from profiting off someone else’s work? I felt so bad before, pushing you to release that mess of a game because deep down, we both know you’ll never make something better by yourself, the only legacy you can make is by infesting someone else’s work.”

“I’m not… please, my legacy is more than that-“

“Feel free to keep lying to yourself, but don’t you dare lie to me, enjoy your fucking future, I’ll be seeing you again real soon.”

It walked behind him and when Ivan turned his head, his father was gone, leaving him alone. Was it weird that, despite the cruelty of his words, he still felt worse being by himself?

———————-

The answer was yes, a single large pizza could be worth that much, and Andrew was left wondering how it and a few drinks had cost him nearly thirty bucks. He knew if his wallet could talk it would be chastising him for not just going back upstairs to get Ivan’s wallet but oh well, he’d just have to eat the loss and hope he gets reimbursed if Ivan didn’t feel petty again. That thought was quickly thrown away when he actually opened the door, Ivan sitting on one of the beds silent and wiping at his face, not having seemed to have moved an inch since Andrew left given his clothes were still only half-put away.

“Ivan?”

“Am I a parasite, Andrew?”

“What-“

“N-never mind, you’re back already? Didn’t you just leave?”

“I was gone for over an hour…”

Ivan eyes blinked before he turned his head to the clock on the wall, just over an hour having passed in time as it read eleven o’ seven.

“Oh, I guess it was a while.” That was… concerning.

“Have you just been… sitting there doing nothing the entire time I was gone?” Ivan took in a deep breath and suddenly he was smiling, standing up a bit too quickly and wiping his face one more time before facing Andrew.

“Not important at all! What matters is you’re back… back with good I mean! Why don’t we just eat!”

“Ivan-“

“Yep, nothing to worry about at all!”

Liar, he always lies about stuff like this. This isn’t normal, what he does isn’t normal so why can he so easily lie. He wanted to push and prod, force him to open up but doing so now might just kill the both of them. He would get it out of him eventually, he swore it, would finally for once get him to not lie.

“Fine, let’s just eat, just got cheese since you never told me before what toppings you would’ve wanted.”

He placed the box down on the table, opening it up and thankfully it did seem worth the price, being bigger than he thought and loaded with cheese. He had preemptively ordered for extra cheese and paid the extra two dollars in fear they’d skimp out, for in his defense everywhere around here just seemed cheap and low quality but it seems his fears were for nothing as it was absolutely loaded. The guy there did seem friendly, maybe he saw his bad news and did him a solid? He wished he remembered something more about the guy but all he remembered was their cheery demeanor and the red uniform he wore… maybe he could ask if went there again?

It wasn’t that important right now, what was important was eating and he was quick to grab a slice and practically scarf it down, Ivan meekly getting up and taking one of his own, eyes hesitant at the monstrous amount of cheese but eventually taking a bite and joining him. It was then though Ivan realized his error.

“You know… you probably should’ve stopped by the convenience store to pick up some napkins and plates so-“ Ivan looked at Andrew with wide eyes as he finished up the piece and just wiped his hands on his hoodie, “Andrew?! Don’t just wipe your hands on your clothing, at least use the complementary towel in the bathroom!”

“Too late.” He said sheepishly.

“Why you-“ Andrew couldn’t help the slight chuckle at Ivan’s angered huff.

“Dressed like that and still upset I don’t feel like grabbing a napkin?”

“It’s basic hygiene!” Andrew knew he could’ve said something about how it looked like Ivan hadn’t showered in weeks but wisely kept his mouth shut, instead intentionally wiping his hands down on his hoodie again.

“Heh, some things never change, huh?”

“Yeah, like you being a slob!”

It was… easy, so easy to slide back into this. How could it be? He was just concerned, wasn’t he? Just mad at the other not even a few hours ago? Yesterday he was still in the middle of swearing he’d never see them again so why did… why did his heart still flutter so much at the sound of their voice?”

“Heh, well next time I’ll order something much cleaner for you, will that make you happier?”

“You are missing the point entirely, are you doing this on purpose!?” The answer must’ve been obvious in the way he quietly laughed, hand over his mouth to not be so apparent as Ivan just pouted and took another slice, making a show of walking to the bathroom and grabbing one of the small towels there to wipe his hands once he finished, making sure Andrew could see it.

“Hmmph, guess I have to be the one with manners between us like always.”

“Heh, if you say so.” Andrew took one last slice and quickly ate it, the warmth in his gut making his tire more obvious. Right, sleep… hopefully these beds were softer then what he was used to, “I think I’m heading to bed soon, know it’s not even noon but got no sleep last night, think you need it to.”

“Already?”

“Yep, already, don’t wanna pass out while standing and hit my head on something, been punched enough times to know that hurts like hell.” He laughed, but Ivan’s chuckle was awkward. Right, right things were bad between them right now, best to try not to forget that.

“Yeah, let’s just head to bed, it’s… well, not late but yeah.”

“Yeah… you want the bed you were already laying on?”

“That’s fine, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to lie in the filth.”

“Uhh,” what did that even mean? “Yep, so I’m just gonna lie down now. Keep my fingers crossed there’s no bedbugs since that’s the last thing we need right now.”

“Yep, last thing we need.”

…

“Alright then, night!”

He moved to flick off the lights and then turned and practically collapsed onto the bed, thankful it was soft and almost embarrassed it was softer than what he was used to given it was probably some cheap thing. Maybe being so tired made it feel better then it would’ve otherwise, but regardless, he embraced the rare comfort and practically hugged his pillow. If he was lucky, he’d have no dreams tonight, if not, he hoped he’d at least be quiet and not wake up Ivan.

——————-

Ivan was… unhappy. Despite his father’s earlier words, it was so nice just to banter with Andrew again and it was easy to forget why things went sour between them so fast, but then the moment ends and it all comes crashing down and makes him feel worse then before, to have that feeling back for just a moment then ripped away. Andrew’s back was to him, and he couldn’t help but stare. Some weird part of him didn’t want to go to sleep but to instead watch…

He forced himself to turn around and lay down himself, the bed offering little warmth to him. He could still hear his father’s words echoing in his head, and he just knew that a nightmare awaited him the second he closed his eyes.

Chapter Text

“I forgive you.”

With the slam of a door and a feeling of sharp pain still across his face, Andrew’s chest was tight and practically hurt from the anger within him, his fists still balled and and just aching to hit something. Why did he think this would go well, it had no chance of ever going well?! They freaked out when he had brought a girl over once under the belief he was scandalous, why would bringing a guy over end up any better?! And now… now he was…

He turned, stomping the whole way to his car as any chance of this night having any sort of happy ending were tossed out the window. He could see Ivan staring from inside their car, watching as he felt a sense of shame. Did he hear any of that, hear their fighting somehow despite the distance? Did he think less of him now, too? Ivan knew, of course he did, he’s the one that encouraged him to even come here and confess, but did he only stick around out of obligation? If he saw his parents kick him out would he take that as a free pass to drop the act and leave too now that Andrew had effectively nothing?

… would he be losing more than just his parents tonight?

No, no, things were still fine, Ivan clearly looked a bit uncomfortable but smiled at him, no hint of anger on his face unlike the two he had just been yelling at… god, he was so fucked though, wasn’t he? No job, no place to sleep lined up, barely any savings? Plus, he was only being given an hour to pack up all his shit and leave under the threat of his life so he’d be leaving a lot behind since his truck wasn’t exactly built to hold a whole bedroom’s worth of items. No parents either, now, and probably a whole lot of other people would ditch him too. This place wasn’t exactly friendly to people like him, he was just devilspawn to be avoided lest they want to risk catching his sin and ending up in Hell too.

Wiping at his eyes, he tried to appear nonchalant as he entered the car, sitting in the still warm passenger’s seat and trying to not think too hard about their words, the hatred and disappointment having been obvious. He’s always been the child they had out of expectations rather than want, but he couldn’t have even done the bare minimum and be normal for them, had to be a disgusting freak they said. He hated them, hated them even before this… and yet it still hurt. He’s fought bullies twice his age when he was still in primary school, once got a tooth knocked out for stealing, even got his arm broken once when a fight got especially brutal but they all felt like nothing compared to this. Ivan seemed to pick up on his failures and he could hear the other speak.

“Well, you did what you could,” he said softly, uncharacteristically so for a man so focused on seeming.interesting,, “more than I would’ve, that’s for sure, I guess some people just don’t want to change.”

Andrew felt numb, barely even registering his words, “…yeah.”

“Hey man, look. You didn’t do anything wrong in there. It’s their problem if they can’t accept you.” He could hear Ivan keep going in, speaking some metaphorical advice or whatever, he had the tendency to do that but he couldn’t hear it right now. He was too busy trying to just breath, the anger in him replaced with anxiety as the fallout of his actions were finally starting to catch up to him in his mind. He was homeless now, where would he even be going tonight? Ivan was suddenly caught off guard mid-sentence as Andrew slammed his fist against the dashboard, the last bit of fire in him going out as his head collapsed against it, unable to stop the crying that soon followed.

“Hey, it’s alright,” there was a hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles, “they really did a number on you, huh? We’re gonna get out of this, Andrew. It’s gonna be ok, it’s all going to be ok in the end.”

Ivan moved forward, wrapping his arms around him a hug that Andrew couldn’t help but maneuver to return, desperate for the warmth. It was so distracting, so nice and he never wanted to let go, let go of this peace he’s been graced with but Ivan eventually pulled away, patting him on the shoulder as they stared at him with happy eyes, a smile on their face that promised care and a light in their eyes.

“Oh Andrew, if only they could see you as I do, you don’t deserve any of this, I’m sorry.”

“I do, yes I do. I should’ve never done this,” he sighed, “I know how they are, know how they act, I screwed myself over instead of just doing the smart thing and hiding it, or even better, learning to move past this and getting myself with the type of person they’d actually want.”

“You can’t control it Andrew, and you had to tell them eventually, it would’ve come out in the end no matter what, better on your terms then theirs and with me by your side to help.” He could hear Ivan chuckle slightly, wiping away at his tears, “who cares about them with me here, they’re idiots for seeing someone as amazing as you and thinking such horrid things.”

“Thank you, Ivan… but… even if we never got along I need them, what am I going to do now? I haven’t even finished high school yet and I’ve never worked a day in my life. I’ve made some money off those stupid games but enough to support a household? The only jobs that would hire without a diploma are the types I can’t afford myself on. Where do I even go?”

“Why don’t you just come with me.”

Andrew nearly jumped at the words, fireflies in the air when he looked at Ivan who was smiling so warmly. His hand moved to shyly intercept with one of Andrew’s, the one he just used to punch his car which he rubbed the sore knuckle at gently. He was so… beautiful.

“To where? To your apartment?”

“That old place isn’t big enough for the two of us, I can get somewhere better, not that it matters, anywhere would be incredible… so long as someone like you was with me.”

“Ivan-!?” Andrew flushed as Ivan got closer, their faces nearly touching. He suddenly felt nervous, his chest fluttering with a want for his face to get closer and cross that line into a kiss, to finally do what he’s wanted for ages but never had the nerve to do, “a-are you saying… saying that-“

“Oh Andrew, of course I love you,” and he gripped onto Andrew’s chin and leaned forward and suddenly everything felt sickening, the pleasant glow in the air filled with dread as Andrew gripped Ivan’s arm. When did they… when did they get out of the car, when did the world around them morph so? He only just now could see he was suddenly standing by the forest, at a picnic spot they’ve frequented before, the house he had just left nowhere in sight. A dream.

“You’re not real.”

“Honey, what are you talking about.”

“You’re not, he wouldn’t do that.” Andrew felt like he was going to throw up, “You’ve have to seen how he is, he wouldn’t say that at all!”

“Andrew…”

“Get away from me!” He pushed away this dream’s mimicry, almost fooled by it like he had a tendency to in the past. He was dreaming about it again, a different outcome to that night after he was shoved to the streets, he hasn’t had this dream in years and almost fell for it again, “this isn’t what happened that night, you know it! He left because I told him I had somewhere to go, we didn’t do any of this!”

“…and?” The fake Ivan was suddenly changing, no longer as young looking as he shifted slightly, the charm gone as he looked a lot more like the crazed person he saw the other day, “don’t push your anger onto me for just doing what you want.”

“I don’t want this! This dream only makes me feel worse when I wake up, it’s never once made me feel better!”

“And I wonder why that is,” it said unhelpfully, raising its eyebrow and seemingly trying to goad Andrew into saying something it wanted, but he had bigger issues on his mind.

“Why are you even here?! Why can’t I get a single night of sleep without something like this?!”

“Do you want me to answer that literally or give the answer you want to what you really want to ask?”

“Screw off, I don’t need this right now,” and he walked away from the mimicry, sighing as he rubbed a hand through his hair. He could see the sterile light of a gas station ahead despite the lack of any road nearby, a place he’d frequented in the past with friends he no longer had, but when he went inside, he was meant with a fast food place he’s been at with Ivan before, the place entirely empty without even a server at the front counter.

“It’s gnawing at you again.” Ok, so maybe not so alone as when he turned around, the Ivan mimicry was there even though it hadn’t been in his previous glance back. “Why must you ignore me?”

“Because it’s not important.”

“Not important, and yet you dream about it so often.”

“It’s not-, I just don’t get it, why?” He let out a deep breath, “why did he comfort me that night, later encourage me to live with him when he learned of my struggles just to…” he sat down at one of the booths, the fake sitting across from him and listening intently, “when he told me to live with him, it had been a dream come true. I’ve always… I moved in so fast and had expecting something so different then what actually happened and now I don’t get it. That night is still magical to me, he was the one person who didn’t leave me when the news broke out and then he… he just…”

“You’re left wondering if he ever cared about you to begin with.”

“Yeah… the one person who didn’t leave me when I came out and all he did afterwards was hurt me. I just wish he would admit it, just tell it to my face so I could leave without feeling the urge to come back and hope that he’d return my feelings.”

“But why need his words, you told him yourself you already knew he hated you.”

“I- it’s just-“

“You don’t want that to be true.”

Andrew sighed, nodding his head a little.

“Of course I don’t.” He admitted, “Even if he doesn’t return my feelings so obviously, treated me like dirt, I’m still terrified of the notion that I wasn’t wrong and that things are truly over. For pete’s sake, I drove four hours on no sleep just because he messaged me on my work email! I could’ve crashed my truck and screwed myself over with bills if I didn’t outright get myself killed when the rational thing was just to ignore them! And for what, too? For him to probably still hate me, that’s what, he probably wouldn’t have even considered to do the same for me. God, why did I even come here?”

“Is that a question I should even bother answering or do you already know the answer.” Andrew felt the sudden urge to punch them as he grumbled under his breath.

“You never answered my question, why are you even here? Are you just here to make fun of me or actually do something that doesn’t make me feel like shit.”

“I’m only here because you want me to be, I’ll be here for years, maybe until the end of your mind.”

“Yeah, well, if your job is to make me happy you’re doing a shitty job at it.”

“Not my fault you rejected me.”

“I’m not desperate enough to kiss someone in my head.”

The fake Ivan didn’t even respond to him, just raising its eyebrow. The scenery around them was shifting again, to a familiar rooftop balcony that made Andrew freak out, the barrier between safety and falling shorter then he remembered, him not even having to crane his head to see the drop.

“It was here, you remember that?”

“No, no stop it I don’t want to think about it.”

“But you can’t stop yourself from thinking about what he said, how he said he walked up to the rooftop and almost did something, something he didn’t want to talk to you about, there’s nothing else it could’ve been, you know that.”

Andrew actually was sick this time and he hated the way it was right. His throat burned and he turned himself away to not let it see him be so weak, but those words had been on loop in his head in the background the second Ivan muttered them. He wanted to refuse them, wanted to pretend he didn’t hear them but how could he not? Ivan tried to kill himself, or at least planned to and backed out at the last minute. If Andrew didn’t come… or responded more negatively… would he have gone through with it? If Andrew came a few hours later would he have just seen a bloodied splatter on the ground that had Ivan’s face, smashed to pieces and unrecognizable to anyone else? Their friendship, the fight they had, the potential feelings he had for the other… all of it for nothing as Ivan was dead, not a single word positive or negative to leave him again. Would it have been out of sadness, thinking the world better without him, or out of spite, a way to get back at Andrew for leaving? He didn’t know idea which hurt more, that Ivan truly loved him back and killed himself due to thinking Andrew didn’t care, or hated him so much he’d take his own life just to make him suffer.

“It’s not fair, it’s not fair he does this to me! Why, did I do something too deserve this?! Is this truly my punishment for what I am?!” He slammed his fists onto the roof’s railing, ignoring the vivid pain this dream gave him, “It’s just… was it too much to ask he’d act after I moved in like he did before?”

“Probably not, I don’t know why he acts like that either,” Dream Ivan drifted closer to him again, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and he couldn’t help but lean into the touch, “I suppose that’s what this is all for, to see how he acts now.”

“What does that mean?”

“One week, and your time is up at that motel. One week to see if after all these months if he’s changed. One week to decide if you continue staying with him or leave.”

“So what, I’m just supposed to walk up to him and say, ‘I’m using the next few days to see if I should possibly leave forever…’ yeah, that’ll go well. I could say it nicer but he’ll take it like that regardless.”

“Then it’s his problem, he’s the one who pushed you both into this mess, he doesn’t deserve to be mad at you for wanting out of a hole he’s dug. You’ll give him his chance and if he messes it up? Well, whatever he does next is not on your hands.”

“You say that like it’s so easy but the moment he does anything, it’ll break me.”

“Then let yourself be broken, you’ll be ripped to shreds regardless if you stay around him when he treats you like trash.” At Andrew’s dejected silence, it sighs, “I am… sorry, for not making you feel better, there’s little that can be done here that’ll fix the issues you face in the real world, dreams can be nothing more than that.”

“If only, sometimes I want to sleep all day just to imagine myself with this version of him, with you even if you’re nothing like him at times.”

“And we both know that’s bad for you.”

Andrew nodded, looking up at the stars as some of the clouds parted ways. They never did look as pretty here as they did in reality, almost nothing here was as good. This fake version of Ivan his mind cooked up was nice, but also so obviously flawed. This wasn’t the man he fell in love with, just some cheap copy whose too eager to please, too perfect and without the little quirks or flaws that made Ivan so special to begin with. It was easy to ignore such faults though, to let it cradle him in warmth, to imagine that things went perfectly when he came here and they lived happily ever after.

“Words could never describe how badly I just want to give in and reminisce, to stay here with you but I know it’ll only get worse if I do.” And the fake Ivan sighed.

“I understand, I’ll try not to come back, no matter how much your heart yearns for it.” And Andre walked and they walked off, turning a sudden corner around a booth and not reappearing on the other side. He was already missing them but this was for the best, as much as he loved these dreams they always just made him feel worse off when he eventually woke up.

“Thank you.”

——————-

The way the wind blew against Ivan’s face did little to distract him from the absolute agony he was in, the world falling around him as the side of his apartment building passed by at a pace too fast to keep track of. He was going to die, going to die in absolute fear as he also felt foolish and idiotic. Why, why did he do it, why did he jump?!

Memories flashed in his mind of the things that could’ve been, his regrets, his passions, every little thing in an instant. Who would find his body? Would some random stranger pass by and it quickly be covered up and buried? Would his mother decide to come visit after he’s been ignoring her worried texts these past few weeks and be the one to discover him? Would Andrew…. No, anyone but Andrew, he promised to stay away but if he would come back at any time, with his luck it would be now. He couldn’t bare the thought that Andrew would come over, probably not even for his sake, and discover him… and just not care. He wished he didn’t-

“I forgive you.”

H-huh?

He turned his head, momentarily using some of his last seconds alive to see… Andrew? Just standing there in the air, unconcerned and unbothered, like he was one some invisible platform Ivan couldn’t see. Was… was having your memories flash by not just a metaphorical thing? Was he literally seeing his memories play out in real time? What-

“Don’t you think you’ve been falling a bit too long, Ivan?”

I-

…

He-

…

What?

Ivan turned his head, having been falling backwards only to see that, despite the wind that rushed by his head and the way the building and world was moving around him… he wasn’t actually making any distance to the ground, it stuck frozen in place.

“A-Andrew… am I not…?”

“Don’t you think you’ve been falling a bit too long, Ivan?” Ivan turned his body, curiosity overtaking his fear for the briefest of moments and reached out, feeling some sort of invisible platform with his hand and suddenly, he actually was falling face-first onto it, not in the splattering sort of way but more like he just tripped, vertigo high as he was forced to stare at the ground so far beneath. What the hell was going on? He turned to face Andrew, just standing there, small and soft smile on their face, “I forgive you.”

It clicked for Ivan, and as he got up to his feet, he couldn’t help but glare at this… thing, this thing his mind conjured up before to torture him before he met that disgusting tumor.

“Oh, this is… you’re back… I think I would’ve rather kept falling than meet you again.”

“Not true.”

“I’m not even going to argue with you, I know you’re not real so crawl back to wherever you came from, I’m not doing this again.”

“You wish I was real.” He scowled, “I know what you want.”

“Can you feel that I want you to leave me alone?”

“Not in the slightest,” it spoke, expression not changing for even a split second. It walked towards him and grasped his hand, and while Ivan was tempted to pull it away, its grip was strong and tugging him along, “follow, I know you hate this spot.”

“Alright…”

Strangely, after a few steps it raised its leg and suddenly it was walking on what could only be stairs, guiding Ivan along slowly as he could only guess and predict where each step was. Even though he did his best to mimic this mimicry, he seemed to either hit his leg on the extended edge or make a movement too short each and every step upwards and if this wasn’t a dream he knew his shins would be sore. He supposed that was the one good thing of these dreams, the pain in he felt in them weren’t permanent. He wished this thing would just leave though, it got him out of that… situation but now he just wanted to be alone.

“No you don’t.”

“What?”

“You don’t want to be alone.”

Creepy… this thing could read his thoughts?

… wait, right, this was a dream of course it could read his mind… why was he even dreaming of Andrew again? The real deal was a bed away, shouldn’t he have gotten his fix of him for the day or whatever? His thoughts during the day were already so focused, didn’t he deserve at least a little respite before his dreams were infested again? At the very least, they were reaching the roof again and he let out a relieved sigh the moment he was touching ground again, taking a few large steps away from the railing like he might compulsively jump off again. Truthfully, he probably should’ve realized this was a dream real sooner considering he didn’t have any memory of actually jumping off, his dream starting in the middle of his descent. Sometimes though… if he was being honest, he worries that he did actually jump and everything that’s happened these past few hours is just a fever dream.

“Stop thinking about it.” He really was wanting to hit that fake now.

“Stop reading my mind.”

“Well stop thinking about it then.”

“Ugh, well ok then! What do I think about if not for the fact I was just in free fall and thought I was about to die!” He couldn’t help the yell but they were unphased, still smiling softly.

“Look up.”

Ivan did as asked, the stars above and… wait a minute. The way the moon was full and directly over them, the clouds parting just perfectly… this wasn’t a memory of-

He turned, and low and behold there another version of Andrew was, sitting at one of the chairs with Ivan in another, a table between them with music in the air and some drinks in hand, Ivan considerably nervous while the other was relaxed. He remembered this night well, and the way it ended…

“-and I peeked inside. That’s the image of my dad in my head now. A charred corpse in an empty church. That’s what you get for helping people, I suppose.”

Bitter silence followed, but Andrew didn’t speak this time, and when he stood, he walked over to Ivan as he sat down.

“That sounds horrible Andrew, I-,” he paused for a moment, seeming to think, “are you doing alright?”

“I’m doing fine… well, it just scares me sometimes. He was great, obviously, but…”

“No need to say anymore, I understand.” He watched this fake scene play out, Andrew reaching his arms out and hugging Ivan tightly, “Don’t worry, I won’t let the same thing happen to you, you’re more than that.”

Ivan couldn’t help but stare with longing, but that wasn’t what happened that night and the feelings of betrayal swelled in him. He had left, just left after he spilled his heart out and told him some stupid thing about how it might rain. No comfort, no care, just an uncomfortable feeling as he walked off without him. It was that moment he realized he couldn’t depend on Andrew despite how much he wanted to and he never bothered to try and get a follow-up about the conversation even though he wanted to. He got the message loud and clear that his worries were stupid… why even worry at all, he’d be famous, he’d make his name, he wouldn’t end up like that.

“You won’t end up like him, you’re too good for that.” Oh for fuck’s sake.

“Why the hell are you even here.” It tilted its head at him, “I swear, you don’t need to show me how it could’ve been, I know damn well this never happened and never will, I don’t want this.”

“Yes, you do. Why do you think it hurts so much?”

“Ugh! Are you even listening to what I say!?”

“Of course I am, it’s just listening to you now will make me leave which you don’t want. I know everything you love, and everything you hate Ivan.”

“No, no you-“

He was being hugged, strong arms around him and despite his attempts at resisting he simply couldn’t build up the strength to leave the comfort.

“Yes, I do, and this is what you want more than anything.”

“Then make me get over it! Don’t you get it, this is never going to happen!”

“Maybe it will, maybe it won’t, doesn’t matter to me. I know what your heart craves and obey it, don’t blame me for listening. The only person between us who can control how they look and act is you. Look, Ivan,” it held his chin and made him look at the scene again, and he flinched at the two of them holding hands, getting up and walking off. Oh how he wished that night ended like this but there was no point hoping, no point at all when those beasts were right.

“There’s no point in making me look, there isn’t any but to add to my misery.”

“You only feel misery because you won’t accept it, we both know what you are inside, stop hiding from me because I can see right through you.”

“I’m not a fucking freak!”

“You’re not a freak, but you like him, like him in the way you aren’t supposed to.”

“Shut it, I’m not!”

“You want to not listen to their words but you do so anyway, I cannot understand you despite everything, why do you so actively fight against what you want?” And Ivan finally managed to push him away as it just watched him, still smiling despite everything. It made no more efforts to speak, no more motions to grab him, and somehow he could feel this night hadn’t gone the way it wanted, “it was these thoughts that led to it… so why? Why must you resist me so?”

“Because there’s no reason to listen, whatever you say is wrong!”

“I’m never wrong, we’re so connected I simply cannot be,” what the fuck did that even mean?!? “You are raw perfection, practically a god whose simply been delusioned by the words of other, “you’re too good to let yourself be bothered by such things, you should just ignore them all and do what you want.” Jesus, was this thing obsessed with him or something?

“I’m not even going to listen to whatever you say at this point, you’re still wrong regardless.”

“Then… if what I say is wrong, could I show to you my proof? My way of knowing?”

“What? You gonna pull up more memories, gonna alter more things that didn’t happen to mess with me?!”

“No, I don’t need to.”

“Tch, I’m not a freak, so don’t even-“

Andrew was suddenly close, seeming to slide on the ground towards him without moving his feet, the scenery around them changing. The stars suddenly seemed much more vibrant and the air flowing in a way that felt dramatic and yet he somehow didn’t feel its harsh coldness.

“Ivan,” He couldn’t get his words out as his face turned pink, the music that had been playing on that shitty boombox the other had quiet, nothing but the sounds of the wind and each other present, “you know that I love you, right?”

“I- I-“

“I really do forgive you Ivan, despite everything, is it strange I wish to be by your side once more?” This wasn’t real, this wasn’t real. Andrew wouldn’t speak like that, doesn’t even like him anymore, he should be pushing away instead of letting his hands slot in perfectly with the others, “so please, don’t give up on me.”

“I won’t..?”

“Please, whatever happens next could change everything, you know deep down that they’re wrong, that this is possible so don’t listen to them. Everything they say are lies, I know you’re perfect.”

“But… it’s so dirty, a real man doesn’t even think of such things, doesn’t waste his life with another man, I should put a stop to this, you shouldn’t encourage it.”

“Still listening to your Father? The same man who ran off into a burning building and got himself killed and died barely loved? Who cares, you’re better than them all regardless Ivan, can’t you see? You just have to prove it to them and he’ll be back, these dreams don’t have to just be dreams.”

“Really?”

“Really, do I look like I would lie to you? I can see you for how great you are, if the world thinks you need to change, then it’s wrong, you just need to accept yourself for what it calls flaws, like me.”

“Could you… say you love me again?” And it’s smile widened, hand ghosting along the edge of Ivan’s face.

“Oh Ivan, of course I love you,” and when this fake Andrew pushed its head forwards, Ivan didn’t resist, letting the kiss happen, even though when he suddenly awoke the only thing he was met with was the bitter feeling of nothing against his lips at all and felt the urge to cry.