#shared childhood trauma to scare us into never swinging on those chairs

[writingawaymylife]

Dance Around - Jump Forward Part III

A/N: Had a pretty long message here but thought I’d just cut it down to what it was but shorter haha - this is really long, but you get to see more Higgs! Also, I hope you enjoy this, and thank you so much to everyone that’s read this far! Thank you for your patience!

Part I - Part II

Ship: Higgs/Reader

Warning: Swears, childhood trauma (not anything graphic but related to abuse, I’ll never put detail into those aspects, and there will always be a warning if so, just incase you were wondering), Higgs

Word count: 6245 or 12 pages...

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“Why the fuck do you always have to scare the shit out of me, Stalker.” (Y/N) was at the front door of their bunker, porter suit unzipped and chest armor half across the room from throwing it at the asshole in front of them. 

Higgs, after a split moment of surprised, gained back his composure with a chuckle low in his throat as he looked (Y/N) up and down. A small smirk growing on his lips and a jokingly (or at least they hoped) hungry look shining in his eyes. He ignored their question, rather pushing himself from where he leaned on the counter and walking over to them.  

“Ya’ know, I think this is the first time I’ve seen your body outta baggy clothing.” (Y/N) glared at him as he gestured up and down. “You should wear tighter clothing more often.” His smirk grew as (Y/N) stripped out of the suit and tossed it onto the bench beside them.

“Better be careful there, one second you’re enjoying your eyesight, the next you can’t see shit.” (Y/N) walked past him, and let a low growl rumble from their throat at a whistle most certainly directed at their backside. It was astonishing how well he was able to get under their skin.

“Just admirin’, Sweetcheeks, no need to get your panties in a twist.” He was far more flirty today than usual, and when they looked behind them, they realized that he also looked happier than he had in a while. Cloak off and slung over a chair by the island along with his masks, arms behind his back with a soft smile on his lips, and a relaxed sway to his steps. Which, because he never took his boots off, was slowly tracking Chiralium Tar all over the floors. He hadn’t taken his bullet proof vest, or his BB doll off, however. Though (Y/N) wasn’t surprised with that. He never took those off, even when he was just relaxing. It couldn’t have been comfortable. Not that (Y/N) cared or anything.

“Yeah, well, you don’t have to stare to do it, asshole.” (Y/N) sighed, shaking their head as they walked into their kitchen and to their special cabinet. They were going to need a drink if they were going to deal with this today. “Also, take your fucking boots off! Tracking your shit all over the goddamn house...”

The glass was already waiting on the table, as it often was when they got home, and they were quick to pour a couple of fingers of alcohol into it. 

“Think I’m good on that, Darlin’.” They could practically hear the smirk on his face and he continued to walk around the island and follow them. Their hand tightened on the glass till they were sure it was at the brink of shattering.

“Look, Higgs, I’m really not interested in people today, so if you would kindly fuck-” (Y/N) turned around, and stopped short when they saw that he was gone. What was left in his place was remnants of Chiral Matter, slowly disappearing. “Fuck. That was easier than usual.” They leaned against the counter and took a long sip of the burning liquid.

“Sweetheart.” He reappeared beside them, this time leaning against the counter with this chest pressing slightly against their shoulder, his arms crossed. His voice dripping with sarcasm as the word came out. They nearly jumped out of their skin. “You should really learn to be more civil. ‘Ya know how it is. Hard for people to like an asshole and all that.” 

“Higgs, I swear on everything holy that I will beat the shit you of you! Read the fucking room!” They growled, slamming the cup onto the counter and glaring up at him. “I’m not dealing with your bullshit right now, I’ve had more than enough shit pulled on me today, and I really don’t think you want to push to see how far you can take this before I break my promise to never kill.” 

His eyes had widened just slightly, and both of them seemed taken back by the outburst. 

It took just a beat before he opened his mouth again and his composure was back. “It seems you’re pretty close if I say so myself, Darlin’” 

“Oh, you little shit-”

“Alright, alright I’m done.” He let out a laugh, eyes crinkling as he shook his head and took a step back. His hands lifted up in surrender, and he gave a soft nod as his laughing ceased. “I won’t tease ‘ya anymore, cross my heart.” One hand dropped down to draw a cross on his heart, before both dropped with a swing as he took a few steps back and leaned against the island. 

(Y/N) stared at him for a few seconds and didn’t say anything. Just grabbed their drink and moved to the couch, where they flopped down and leaned their head back. 

“You sure you even have one, Fucktard?” 

He snorted. “Most definitely not.”

“You know,” They started, taking a sip of their drink and allowing themselves to melt into the couch more. “I used to think I could never hate anyone, but I think you have challenged that idea enough for me to change my mind.” 

Higgs winked over at them, before he busied himself grabbing another glass and pouring himself some vodka. He always looked so comfortable in here, taking up space and moving around like he had been living here forever. It was odd, to say the least, but (Y/N) wasn’t outright surprised. Higgs was a man like no other, and taking up space and acting comfortable anywhere was his forte. 

They used to be bothered by it, but, for some reason, they found themselves beginning to enjoy the company. Even if it wasn’t with the best of kinds. There were so many times when they would be alone. There was that time when they had a cat, but he had past a few years ago, and ever since it had felt so… empty. 

Now, after having dealt with his antics for nearly a two years, him being here was just normal now. They would never admit it out loud, but it felt nice to have someone to share this space with, even if it was only briefly. Having someone physically there to talk to was a comfort that they never knew they had craved so much. 

They were so stupid for going against everything they had been taught, everything they had taught themselves. But they really did like this guy. 

“You keep believing that, Sweetcheeks. But I’ve gotta feelin’ that you might just love me.” He sat down beside them, hand draping over the couch as soon as (Y/N) lifted their head to look over at him, before rolling their eyes.

“Fucking gross.”

His voice still stuck in their memory. Ingrained in their soul and heart. It was often that it would play in their dreams. Teasing remarks and quips that never ceased to press the right buttons. He drove them through the roof. But in the end, they couldn’t stop themselves from feeling the safest when he was around. He held a power that most feared. It was chaotic and uncontrollable. He was a raging fire that would burn anything it touched - without hesitation or a shred of remorse. 

He was terrifyingly beautiful. A piece of old art, worn through pain and time. 

(Y/N) never felt like the fire would burn them. Never feared it would consume them like it did so many others before and after they met. And they were right, for a time. The fire only surrounded them. Creating a barrier that no one could break through. Protection that as fierce as it was remarkable. 

They had never assumed that the fire would burn them. But it did, and left a nasty scar to prove it.  

He had stained himself onto them. Permanently etched into their soul, and they couldn’t do anything to stop him from doing so. 

(Y/N) had wondered if he knew that all along, if he knew that leaving would be one of the most painful and impactful experiences in their life. They wondered if he took pride in knowing that he would always have a place in their heart, that he could always come back and leave again and again, and the hole would never close. (Y/N) wondered if he had intended for that all along. 

No matter how much he had hurt them, they couldn’t stop loving him and the fire that leaked from his chest into the world around him. Anger, pain, and resentment accumulating into an explosion that would make everyone pay for whatever he had suffered through.

They were always advised to not play with fire. But they were never told that there was one as captivating and beautiful as his. 

Was it worth it? To run headfirst into the fire again?

Something was burning. That’s all (Y/N) knew. Black smoke hung in the air, mixed with a God awful smell of melting plastic. They couldn’t understand why it was smoky in the first place. Mind racing as they tried to think through every scenario from leaving the stove on (which was impossible with the new version, they had thought), to forgetting to blow out the candles that would lead to this much smoke. 

They didn’t even stop to take off their boots or their suit. Bursting through the house as the smoke burned their eyes and lungs, so thick they couldn’t see their hand outstretched in front of them. 

“What the fuck!?” They burst into the kitchen, covering their mouth with their hands in a futile attempt to keep the smoke from entering their lungs any further. 

“Decided to take a scenic route?” A voice, strained from the smoke and from coughing, nearly wheezed out from across the kitchen. (Y/N) didn’t even have to guess to know who it was. “’Bout time you got here.” 

It didn’t take long to see where the smoke was coming from. The open and nearly pitch black oven was stilling burning whatever had been in there.

“HIGGS! WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE TO MY HOME!” (Y/N) practically dived into the middle of the kitchen, grabbing a kitchen cloth to cover their face. 

“Before ‘ya ask, it’s just the oven.”

It had taken an hour to air out of the bunker and clean out the oven, all the while (Y/N) cussed Higgs out as he sat on the island, eating directly out of the carton of ice cream and chuckling all the while. He had a nearly proud grin on his face, nodding along and, worst of all, rating an insult whenever (Y/N) would say something particularly creative.

“CHAOS! That’s all you bring into this goddamn house! CHOAS! AND! RUIN!” (Y/N) was exasperated, metal wool roughly held in hand as they scrubbed as hard as they could on the oven. They weren’t in the mood to punch someone today, but they needed to get the anger out somehow if they were going to prevent that from happening.

“It was just a burnt pizza, Sweetcheeks.” He spoke between a mouthful of ice cream.

“EXACTLY! HOW does someone BURN a FROZEN PIZZA to CHARS! AND FORGET TO TAKE THE FUCKING PLASTIC OFF!” He snorted, looking down at the ice cream as he spooned out another bite. “You’re a menace. A complete and utter menace. Why the hell do I allow you into my house!?”

“Have you not realized yet, Darlin’? ‘Ya don’t. I just…” He waved his spoon around, a cocky little grin on his face. “Welcome myself in, eat your food, and leave.” He shrugged, shaking his head with that amused smile still on his face as he finished off the ice cream. 

“Don’t forget “burrowing” my books, watching MY movies, and playing MY games on MY projector. Gotta love using people, right?” They hissed, scrubbing the last bit of burnt plastic out of the oven, before slowly getting up. They were so sore from today’s hauls. Sore, tired, and now very much royally pissed off. 

“Not using,” He argued, tone light and casual. “Just enjoying, Sugar. ‘Ya never seemed bothered by it before, in fact, I think you might actually enjoy my company.” He sounded so arrogant, chest puffed and the southern lilt in his voice becoming just slightly more pronounced. (Y/N) let out a low growl before composing themselves. 

“You listen here, Stalker-”

“Oh, here we go.” He set the carton on the counter beside him and leaned forward. 

“The only time of ours I’ll be enjoying will be the day I get to throw you in a fucking incinerator!” (Y/N) threw the wool into the sink, and, with arms crossed and an exaggerated huff, looked him dead in the eye. “What do you think about that?”

His face dropped from the cocky smile, and he had the most unimpressed, bored expression they’d ever seen on his face. He rolled his eyes, turning to grab the ice cream again before giving a half-assed shrug.

“’ve heard better insults - prob’ly a three, maybe a four.” He scrapped the bottom of the carton, before getting off of the counter and tossing the, now-empty, carton into the trash and moving around (Y/N) to toss the spoon in the sink. 

(Y/N) stayed silent, closing their eyes and trying to find the last speck of humanity they had left in them, as they slowly breathed in through their nose and out through their mouth. 

He really did make it hard. 

“How the hell did it even get so smokey in here? How did you not pass out?” When they opened their eyes, there looked to be the briefest of embarrassment written on his face. Hand rubbing the back of his neck, cheeks slightly pink. He cleared his throat. 

“I had to leave for some business.” His hand moved from the back of his neck and made a slight brushing off gesture with a shrug. 

“Business.”

“That’s what I said, Darlin’.”

“So you proceeded to put a pizza, with the plastic still on, in the oven-”

“Yes.” He nodded.

“Leave the bunker for at least an hour or two without turning off the oven-”

“Correct.”

“And then proceeded to, I don’t know, wait in the fucking house till I came home?”

“Well, ‘ya see-”

“You lazy motherfucker.”

(Y/N) always wondered if he was bothered with how they had ended their friendship. Had it hurt him like it hurt (Y/N)? Was he able to sleep at night, knowing how their last conversation went?

It was easy to say (Y/N) had gotten out of it easy, that they were probably one of the few that could say they had a bad run-in with him and survived. In all honesty, they should have left it at that. They should be grateful to be breathing air, not hoping to see him again. It was so hard not to crave it, though.  They wished they could talk with him, just one more time. To hear what he had to say. To hear why he did what he had.

The two had their ups of downs, something (Y/N) had to expect with a man like him, but they were happy. Even when they bantered and insulted each other, there was nothing malicious. There was nothing that should have led to that, not between them. Not when things were just beginning to get comfortable.

“I thought I felt DOOMs when I met you.” It was such a simply delivered comment. Casual, like the how you begin a conversation with a stranger about the weather or about how porter life is treating them. He scooted past (Y/N), chest, which had neither the BB doll or his bulletvest on, brushing against their back as he moved to the fridge. 

(Y/N) cleared their throat, frowning as they continued to cut the carrots in front of them. “Don’t most people in our generations have DOOMs?” They peaked over their shoulder, huffing in annoyance when they saw he was eating their ice cream again. How that man stayed so toned and skinny, they would never know. “And you do know I’m cooking dinner, right? You don’t have to eat the fucking ice cream.”

Higgs ignored the second comment - continued to eat the ice cream as he moved to lean on the counter beside them. 

“Not with your level.” He spoke after a mouthful of ice cream. Higgs seemed far more serious than he often was. Deep in thought as he played with the ice cream in the carton. “I haven’t met many people with your level. But, you don’t use ‘em. Why?”

(Y/N) sighed, going back to finishing with the carrots. They were silent for a moment, debating whether or not they should say anything, or just try and change the subject, before giving a slight nod. They waited until the carrots were in the stew, before finally giving him their attention. 

(Y/N) moved to the island across from him and leaned against it. Arms crossed and one heel idly tapping the white tile flooring. Higgs, for the first time in a while, wasn’t wearing his boots, ankles crossed and black sock covered feet against the tile. It wasn’t the biggest of milestones in their relationship with him, but they felt a small amount of appreciation towards it. Progress, though slow and far between, was being made to housebreak him.

They finally broke the silence, voice slightly softer and quieter then it normally was with him. It took them a few seconds before they looked up and into his eyes. 

“How did you find out?”

He glanced up from his ice cream then, taking another bite as he gauged their reactions. “I looked at your file.”

“And how did you find these files?” They probed, a tinge of frustration in their tone as their hands went and clasped the edge of the counter. They hated it when people beat around the bush. 

“’m pretty good with a computer.” He shrugged. 

“Okay, Higgs if you aren’t going to explain, than why the fuck did you bring it up-” He cut them off with an annoyed and muffled swear word, and a “shut up” that had their hands clenching the island tighter than they already were.

“I’ve been able to feel ‘em since I met you. Somethin’ I’ve been able to do with others, but never felt to your intensity. DOOMs practically ooze off of you. Usually that means you would be able to jump, or be able to do what I can do, but I haven’t seen you do anything like that once. Not even when you’ve been in danger.” He placed the carton beside him and jutted his chin out as if to push them to answer. “Why wouldn’t you use that power?”

(Y/N) didn’t even know where to begin. Just like Higgs, they weren’t one for… opening up to people. It was difficult. Terrifying. How do you open up to someone who will most likely eventually leave you?

Opening up to people was something they never thought they would have to do again. Not after last time. But they wanted to, for some odd reason, try with him. He felt safe, like he wouldn’t run away or turn his back. Maybe that was too much to expect from him. Maybe it was some false hope with the slow and steady realization that they missed connecting with people. 

They sighed, hands clenching and unclenching the counter edge before giving in with a soft sigh and nod. 

A small act of sharing. That’s all it was. 

Hands slipped from the corners and, feeling like they were both weightless and falling, quickly went to clasp in front of them with fingers interlocked.

“When I found out about my DOOMs, I was probably about… thirteen? Give or take. I had ran out of the home, nothing too bad, I guess, just not where I wanted to be forever. Being trapped in there, when I’d seen pictures of what outside looked like, I couldn’t bare the idea of staying in some small bunker the rest of my life. And I never did what I was told, not if it went against how I felt. Eventually, they gave up trying to sway me away from that idea, let me leave and didn’t stop me. But they… uh…” They sucked in a sharp breath and let it out just as harsh. “They never let me back in. Even when it began to pour.” (Y/N) looked up briefly, trying to find out what Higgs’ reaction was. He kept his face neutral except for a small furrow of his brow, eyes trained solely on the ice cream he had picked up again, but they could tell he was paying attention. 

“I was out in the rain in nothing but a hoodie and sweatpants for what had to have been... two hours? Clothes turning to tatters and falling apart. The rain eventually got to most of me, but it didn’t do anything. Just… slid off like shower water, except it was tingly like soda - almost stung. Eventually I ran into BTs and I could almost completely see them. It was so terrifying. I didn’t know what to do...

“Eventually this guy, Evan, was driving by in a truck and found me huddled in a small indent on a side of a cliff. Holding the last remnants of clothing I had left and nearly frozen to death. Everyone was astonished. I mean, they hadn’t known anyone to stay in the rain for that long and not suffer any of the effects.” With a big sigh, they gestured their arms out before letting them flop to their sides. Frustration, and the familiar sense of hopelessness, they had felt began slowly bubbling in their chest.

“I didn’t have any parents to fight for me, I was a minor, so I didn’t have a say over myself. You’d think since I was a kid I would be treated with some bit of respect or-or some gentleness, but a lot of the scientists just treated me like an enigma. Ran tests after tests. Trying to find a way to make others immune to Timefall or something, to see what other “special abilities I had”. Eventually, I was old enough to leave their “protective” custody, but they kept me reeled in. They gave me food and shelter, I gave them blood tests, DOOMs tests, and any other kind of test they could think about. 

“Once they found out I could Jump, it was the beginning of the end. They pushed me, trying to see if it was my connection to the Beach that gave me Timefall immunity, but I can’t Jump often. And it leaves me sick for days afterwards. They pushed me particular day, a little harder than before, and I was going to Jump for the third time that day.” (Y/N)’s voice rose in pitch before they cleared their throat. Hands came infront of them and clasped. 

“I don’t know what happened? I just know that I didn’t jump five feet forward. I was stuck somewhere dark and empty for what felt like hours, I was so scared. I thought I had just… stopped existing.” Their voice caught in their throat, and they couldn’t think of anything to say. Eventually they looked up to see him staring at them, eyes showing something they couldn’t explain and jaw working. He looked angry - thinly veiled and nearly revealing itself. It reminded (Y/N) of the clouds before harsh Chiral Storms. 

(Y/N) crossed their arms, tightening them firmly around them in hopes of controlling their quickening breaths. 

“How’d you get back?” He finally asked, voice low and nearly leaving a casual tone to something that matched the look in his eyes. They tried not to think too much of it, just assumed it was them hoping for anything other than apathy.

“I don’t know, really. I just remember sixteen year old me screaming for help until I couldn’t use my voice anymore.” They shrugged, trying to make it seem less traumatizing than it really was. “I… think?-” They sucked in another sharp breath which wavered at the end. “I remember seeing someone else there, and I think I remember them saying something to me before I woke up in the med bay, but I couldn’t remember their face even if I tried my hardest. It just all feels like radio static. Woke up in the med bay, being fed some disgusting Cryptobiote paste. They didn’t really know what happened, but they assumed that I had gotten stuck in a space between a Beach and here.”

“Sounds like a scary thing for a kid to go through.” His voice was back to some form of neutral, eyes searching their face before he spoke again. Jutting out his chin slightly as his brows furrowed. “Still haven’t said shit about why you stopped using ‘em.” He pointed out. 

“Too painful of a reminder, I guess. Fuck, why would I want to think about something that’s caused me so many sleepless nights? And, I mean, I only tried Jumping a few times after that with success. It’s really hard - draining. I can see BTs, I’m immune to Timefall, but I can’t jump worth shit. And I don’t really know about the funky levitating or BT summoning thing, not really keen on seeing if I can.” They swallowed and looked back down to their feet. Their heart was going faster in tempo than usual, breath wavering slightly as their arms dropped and hands clasped the island’s edge again.

Thinking about those years always brought back terrible memories, and talking about it was harder than they tried to make it seem. There was a burn, deep in their chest, whenever they thought back to those times- those places. 

They were just happy they were out of there.

He didn’t say anything for a while, eyes seemingly searching theirs, before he looked down and took another spoonful of ice cream. (Y/N) opened their mouth to say something- or to get him to say something, but stopped when he turned to the side and opened the drawer beside him. He took out another spoon and handed it over to them.

They frowned, but nonetheless took it, looking between him and a utensil before finally saying something. 

“Cool. A spoon. Why-”

He shoved the ice cream into their hands. “How about you shut up and take the spoon, alright?”

They looked down at the ice cream, and with a sigh, took a bite. 

“Are you… feeling sympathy, Higgs?”

He looked up at them with a scoff and rolled his eyes. “Never.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“Didn’t I tell just you to shut up?” They let out a soft laugh.

“Ah, finally understanding what it feels like to me, aren’t you?”

Higgs didn’t bring any of that up after that, but there was a change in how he acted. Not pity, or like they were a delicate flower, of course - Higgs didn’t even know how to begin treating someone gently. But there was this respect and thought for their emotions and thoughts in his actions - rather than a nearly complete disregard for them. Something really did change after that, and (Y/N) didn’t know whether it was a good or a bad thing. 

What they did know, was that it wasn’t a coincidence that the doctors that went missing a few days later were the same doctors that treated them.

(Y/N) sat in their uncomfortably cold and empty couch. Staring off into the distance with their hands pressed together against their lips. After they had woken up from their “dream” - or whatever it was - merely hours before that they had with Amelie, they had been in constant turmoil. Torn by the good memories - though some of them might not have been the best - and the horrific actions he had caused. It wasn’t their place to say whether someone did or didn’t deserve to die, but with Higgs? After everything that he had done? 

(Y/N) knew that in the end he was dealt a shitty card. That he hadn’t really been given the chance to be the good guy. How many times could someone continue to get beaten down, used, twisted and pulled, before they decided to snap? To become the bad guy so that they wouldn’t be the victim? How long until someone decides to try a taste of the power that people used against him? How easy was it to let that consume you?

“When did you learn to play?” The two had been sitting on (Y/N)’s bed for a while now, with (Y/N) finishing the last of their book, and Higgs gently strumming the guitar he had just found out they had.

It had been quiet, and oddly serene, for a while now. A beautifully delicate atmosphere that seemed far safer than it should have with Higgs in the room. Not that they were complaining, over the past few months everything had gotten... far more comfortable than they had assumed it would. And Higgs, who never showed any emotions other than cocky arrogance and self empowerment, had shown some genuine vulnerability when (Y/N) had found out he could play, and proceeded to convince him to do so.

He looked so… different. The light of the candles seemed to reveal part of him that they had never noticed. Shining through his dark brown hair, which was shockingly clean, and turning it into a mixture of amber and gold. When it hit his eyes just right, golden flecks would sparkle in the steel blue. They had tried to be subtle about their peaking, but it was so hard when he looked so beautiful. 

His right hand stopped its light picking of the strings and he moved his arm to rest across of guitar. He looked almost shy when he decided to glance up at them, and (Y/N) wondered if the candlelight and atmosphere had given him the same comfort in small acts of vulnerability as it had for them. 

Higgs shifted in his spot as he adjusted the guitar on his lap.

“I used to have one a while back.” He turned his head to look over at one of the candles, suddenly seeming very interested in the flickering of the flame. 

(Y/N) nodded, brows lightly scrunched together when trying to pick apart the bad in the memory. “But not anymore?”

He shook his head, looking back down at the guitar and brushing his thumb across the strings. “Nope. Not anymore.” He stayed there for a moment, eyes downcast and lips pulled into a slight frown. Eventually, he lifted the guitar off of his lap and leaned it against the bedside table. 

Silence hung in the air for a moment, and (Y/N) kept pulling blanks in attempt to find out what they should say or not. They felt like they were playing chess. Stuck in a corner where almost every move felt like the wrong one. Emotions were hard for (Y/N), never something they were taught how to handle, even when it had come to their own, and especially it came to comforting someone else, it felt like walking on glass. They didn’t want to hurt people, and most certainly not him. Not now. When he looked so… exposed. But the look in his eyes as he adjusted against the array of pillows and clasped his hands in front of him, like he didn’t know how to sit or act - it was easy to see that he had something dark and heavy on his mind. His brows scrunched as he moved again to leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He looked so troubled, like an old memory plagued his mind and he couldn’t shove it away no matter how hard he tried. 

It was a scary moment, wondering if he was going to disappear or stay. Not knowing whether breaking the silence or letting it stay would shut him down. The only time he ever stayed even remotely vulnerable around them was when he first visited, though he was quick to hide it. To make it seem like he was just tired, even when his eyes seemed to be drowning in sorrow. Every other time he had ever seemed down, he would run away and come back hours later as if nothing happened. 

But, for the first time in a long time, (Y/N) wanted to truly know someone. Even if it terrified them to do so. 

“Why not?” They winced at the flat question, mentally scolding themselves for not saying anything else. Looking down at their hands, fiddling with their fingers, as they patiently, ans hopefully, waited for him to answer. 

He was quiet for a long time, and when they glanced towards him, they could see he was torn. Bottom lip between teeth and eyes cast downwards. The wall was cracking, and with a soft, gentle sigh, it had broken down just enough for a them to finally catch a glimpse. 

“Music is… hope. It’s meant to create some sort’v relief and happiness- an expectation for a good end to all the bullshit that goes on in the world. But if there is one thing I can know for sure, it’s that this shit ain’t going to be ending with anything other than one. Big. Bang. There isn’t any hope. Not anymore. So why bother.” Higgs’ voice sounded rough. Low and husky, and so dejected. (Y/N) could have sworn there was a crack towards the end, no matter how veiled he tried to make it. He sounded so hopeless… so broken and so alone.

Another silence seemed to hang in the air for a moment, before (Y/N) gave a gentle nod, and sucked in a soft breath. They had forgotten how to comfort people, but they weren’t going to ask to see a wound only to leave it untreated. 

“Hope only goes away when you let it, Higgs. Once you give up on it, once you stop doing anything to prevent a dark inevitability, that’s when everything falls apart.” He was quiet for a minute, and (Y/N) worried that they might have said something wrong, that they had done more damage than good. 

He looked over at them finally, and though his eyes seemed tired and pained, he let one of his cocky smiles grow on his lips as he let out a soft huff of amusement. “You’re really gonna let yourself down with that one, ya’ know that, right?”

They shrugged and gave another soft nod as a deprecating chuckle slipped out. “Probably. But if we really are doomed, at least I had comfort in hope.”

They remembered a quote they had heard before - “they say everyone is born a hero, but if you let it, life will push you over the line until you’re the villain.” Higgs was a bad man who had done truly terrible things, they had no doubt about that. But he also had this light in him that, however dimmed it may be, or he tried to make it seem, shone - even in the oddest of ways. He cared, he wanted to do good, but he was sick of being on the losing side. Sick of being taken from till he had nothing. To be given that ability to take instead of lose, how many in this world could chose the former?

Did he have the ability to come back? To find that light and let it become something? Did (Y/N) truly have the right to judge whether he was capable of good or not?

Everything seemed jaded and oh-so convoluted. They didn’t know what was right and wrong, what was up or down. They felt like they were in a pitch black pool, unable to see the direction of the air bubbles, but desperately trying to find the surface. 

But there was one thing that they knew. If they were to just leave him, when there was an inkling of a chance of saving him, they would have to live for the rest of their life with that on their shoulders. To go everyday knowing that the man they loved so fucking much was gone, and they hadn’t lifted a finger to stop it. 

The thought scared (Y/N) to the bones. The fear of losing him, of just letting fate deal its punishment towards him without even trying to intervene. 

If there was a Beach for the good and a Beach for the bad, it was easy to know that they were bound for the latter no matter what they did at this point. It didn’t matter anymore. 

They nodded. Standing up and rubbing their sweaty and shaking palms onto their pants as the stood in the middle of their living room. 

There was no more hesitation. Even if they feared their powers, feared the prospect of going back to that… place. Even if there was a chance they might never make it to Higgs.

They weren’t going to give up. They were going to get him back. 

No matter what.