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“I wake and hear you calling
And up those cliffs I climb
And I find you with a thimble weeping
May I, I ask, may I?
And you gently gift it to me
'Cause you've no clue how to sew
And I know the kindest thing
I pray to god it's the kindest thing
I know the kindest thing
Is to never leave you alone” -The Amazing Devil, ‘The Rockrose and the Thistle’.
It was late by the time Rey and Silver arrived at the rundown hotel at the edge of town. Rey had planned it that way. Best to avoid the crowds and slip by unnoticed. It was a leaky, nondescript thing, but for only one night and with the two of them alone Rey assumed it would do well enough.
“Stopping here for the night.” He nodded over his shoulder at Silver. It was a uselessly obvious statement. Silver simply nodded back mechanically in response. Rey felt a twinge at the dark circles under Silver’s eyes and his thoughts drifted over what the woman at the desk was saying as she directed them apathetically to the meagre list of available rooms.
“245 ain’t much, but it’s got a bit more space than the others. If you’d prefer separate rooms it’s an option, but we don’t have much open.”
Rey snapped back to reality and shrugged impatiently. “One is fine. It’s just for tonight. We’re traveling north.”
Their target was an influential landowner. He did not live north of the town, of course, but it was near enough the truth that they were travelers. The receptionist flipped through some papers.
“Down the hall to your left. The maid comes through at 8.”
Rey was conscious of Silver’s eerily quiet steps behind him as they entered the shabby room. He was often silent like this; simply following Rey like a shadow. There was something ghostly in his movements that made him both beautiful and unbearable for Rey to watch.
The sparsely-furnished room was clean if drab. Rey sank down gratefully into a chair by the table, Silver into the other. They reviewed the plan for the following day.
“The back door won’t be locked well; he lives too remotely to keep a close enough eye on his servants for that. You should have an opening when he winds down in his room for the night. If you use a knife from the kitchen one of the staff should be the first suspect, so that’ll give us time to be long away.”
Silver nodded and swallowed with visible discomfort. Rey sighed. Silver hadn’t killed much yet; it had only been eight months, after all, and the first three were devoted purely to training and recovering after his injuries. He was still shaken before and after each job.
“You take the bed, Silver, you need the rest for tomorrow.”
Secretly, Rey was worried; Silver’s unsteadiness and fixed, faraway stare had been frightening him more and more. He knew he had driven him too hard for the first months, but even once Silver had regained his health he had never lost the aura of death that surrounded him, and he looked more tired every day.
Silver undressed robotically and sat down on the bed. “There’s really enough room if you wanted to sleep here too, you know.” His voice was hesitant; he focused on the boots he was taking off. “I don’t mind really, there would be no harm in you getting some rest and it’s not warm out.”
It was a perfectly straightforward and sensible suggestion.
Absolutely not.
Everything in Rey screamed at the thought of Silver lying in bed next to him. He started almost violently at the image and shoved it as far away from the forefront of his mind as possible. No, no, no, no, not this, I can’t do something like this. There were boundaries he could never dare.
Not this— “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”
Silver moved over on the bed and Rey sat down, feeling horribly exposed in his nightshirt and pants. He tried to shake off the unfamiliar feeling. There was no reason to feel so vulnerable, like Silver’s eyes were going to pierce straight through every secret part of him simply because they weren’t dressed and working. He dared a glance at Silver and was struck again by the strange, cautiously otherworldly grace with which he carried himself, like a spirit unused to housing a mortal form. Even so tired and travel-worn he was beautiful.
Rey put out the lamp.
Silver fell asleep quickly. Rey noted the shift in his breath to sleep from carefully regulated and silent as the grave. He felt as if the slightest twitch might make the man lying beside him vanish into thin air on the spot. He turned gingerly. Silver’s stark white hair seemed to glow behind Rey’s eyelids even when he closed them.
He woke with a start some hours later. For a moment he didn’t comprehend what was happening, but then his senses settled as he registered the struggling on the other side of the bed. Rey realized groggily some nightmare had dragged Silver far out to sea.
“No, no, no, no…”
Rey hesitated a moment. He was what led to this nightmare, more or less. Would pulling him from it not be more cruel than leaving him to the torments of sleep?
He shook the thoughts off and reached over to grip Silver’s shoulder gently. “Silver, wake up, hey—”
Silver whirled on top of Rey with a scream. Rey hardly had time to gasp before Silver’s arm was across his throat, pressing him into the bed. He struggled frantically.
“It’s me, it’s me, it’s alright, please…”
“You...Rey.”
The pressure on Rey’s throat lifted as Silver started to shake. “Oh..oh God…”
He crumbled.
“What happened to me, what happened, where was I?” He stammered on through heaving, panicked breaths. “Do you know where I am, what happened to me? The blood, the blood, the—”
“I—“ How often does he get like this? “I don’t know, hey, breathe, Silver…you’re in the hotel, that’s all...”
Rey gingerly wrapped his arms around Silver’s shoulders and pulled him to his chest. Silver offered no resistance. After a time his delirious rambling quieted and his breath started to ease. Rey tried not to think about how right the feeling of Silver’s slight frame curled against him felt. In another world, lying here like this would feel exactly right. If Silver were not shivering so violently, if his hair didn’t glow ghostly white in the moonlight filtering through the curtain, if Rey didn’t have a chasm opening in his chest he worried would rip him apart, if he could keep the bitter, regretful tears from seeping onto the pillow above Silver’s head on his chest.
Was this what he had done to him? If Rey was honest, part of the reason he’d held Silver at a distance the months since he woke up was so he wouldn’t have to assess the damage he had wrought on him. It was hard enough watching him trust him so completely every day as he taught him how to angle a knife, where to touch to inflict the most damage, how to avoid being seen. He couldn’t stand the thought of being close enough to know how Silver felt about it all. He savored the bruised ache in his collarbone Silver’s arm across his throat had left to keep himself grounded. It was selfish to hold back from him when he didn’t have anyone else to look to on nights like this, but unthinkably cruel to be a comfort when it was his own doing.
He clasped both Silver’s hands in one of his and felt the other man’s pulse quieting against his fingers. He wasn’t shaking anymore. After what could have been days as easily as minutes, Rey joined him in oblivion.
Rey could hardly bring himself to meet Silver’s eyes the next morning. He didn’t know what he expected to see in them, but regardless the reality was far more cruel. Though hesitant as a frightened animal, Silver’s eyes showed something that shone out blindingly sharp against Rey’s own darkness; a stark, clear ray of hope.
He could not let this be the last moment like this, and Rey knew that was what would damn him for eternity.