#truthfully i will reclaim everything from the people who tainted it for me. same with like fnf.

[synthetic-sonata]

got a buncha stuff for my switch and kirbys return to dream land deluxe. ... living life large ( i had a breakdown earlier this is a treat )

[solaetis-moved-blog]

TITLE: Nihilism WORD COUNT: 2,444 CHARACTERS: Caster (Medea) / Rider (Jason) SUMMARY: Medea's searching for Gawain, who had been missing for days, and encounters Jason in Chaldea. NOTES: Content warning for Sexism, slut-shaming, domestic violence, murder and idk it's just full of fucked up things. Sheep and I discussed about what would happen if Jason had been summoned in Chaldea when Medea is already in love with Gawain. Some Euripides’ Medea references and some other modernized Greek works cause I’m a nerd.

Of all people she could have encountered in the empty halls of Chaldea, it just had to be him. His face is familiar. She would know it in life, she would know it in death. The renowned Captain of the Argo, the eloquent leader of men. Most would argue about his disposition, claim him useless in the field and can contribute nothing when war ensues. Medea personally knows that this is untrue.

She had seen first hand just how Jason, son of Aeson, led a fleet of men with his words.

He was arrogant and self-indulgent, but which man was not? In the wooden grounds of the ship deck, he would glance at his men with an expression most calm and calculating. In his silence, his mind could procure several options which promised unrivaled victory. In impossible situations, he had saved the lives of most just by commanding. Ten men alone led by him could defeat thousands, but only if he was the mind behind their every action. She could see why a man like Jason was needed to preserve the future of humanity. If she had to admit a painful truth, it would be that between the both of them, he is less likely to put a taint in their pact with the provisional Master and put to waste the significant progress they have made by now.

So when she met his eyes, his eyes that seemed to bore into her person just as fiercely, she could not help but feel as if she was being choked. From here, she would deny his hold upon her neck, though from ill fate of the world, it is undoubtedly permanent at this point.

"What a sore mistake. In this realm where heroes are called forth, you know as well as I do you are the least suitable to be here," he spoke to her, breaking the long and winding silence between them in sheer seconds. Like before, he spoke to her menacingly, as if disgusted by not just her existence, but the fact that she has the mighty gall to breathe in his presence. "Medea."

Broadened eyes were hidden under her hood. He had claimed exactly the truth which began to penetrate her mind.

"You are not so heroic yourself," she barked back, instilling confidence in every word she had uttered as to announce that he did not terrify her, nor will she ever come to do such a thing. She was in her search for a certain man, and that man happened to not be Jason. No, that man will never be him again. For her hatred towards her former husband is incurable. Her endless love before had been unfortunately replaced with unending ferocity and excessive wrath.

She would say more, but Jason's demeanor petrified her from doing so. A damning slavery it must be to be silenced in this manner, thoughts imprisoned and unable to be shared.

"Compared to you?" he raised his brows and huffed with the same haughtiness he used to have. "I must be. You will make even demons themselves appear divine in the eyes of Gods."

Her gloved fists tightened behind her back. She must not show it. He must not bear audience once again to her vexing state, for he will not let her live it down if he were to find out that even now his words hold weight.

"What are you, if not a vile woman? In your loathing, you will burn everything and slaughter even your own children."

Upon hearing this, Medea refused to be silenced further.

'I did not kill them,” she begged herself to scream in retaliation for this disrespect, but even she, herself, is not sure if it would be true. She recalled the lack of warmth in the body of their children as she found them lifeless in the soils of Corinth. What occurred before it? Her life had been a blur in that moment. Every men and women she had killed were clear in her mind, but this. She does not remember. She cannot plead herself to even out of desperation.

Why would she? It was not what happened. Medea did not kill her children. She was the first to find their corpses, yes, but the bastardization of her tale had installed upon her Spirit Origin to claim responsibility for an act she did not commit. It was the Corinthians who feared her and her actions. Jason will not believe her even if she is aware of this, so her lack of knowledge in this lie does not and will not change anything.

"Who are you to speak this way to me? I became this way because I had loved you with all of my soul! You had taken me away from my home and only it was I who suffered the consequences of worshiping your name! You claim that the Goddess Aphrodite had installed upon me this foolishness, driven me to this state. You are wrong! Aphrodite could not be any more mistaken! I had loved you for I had seen you as a man greater than your accomplishments and ambitions! T'was why I had been so willing to be of use to you! Yet you discarded me like a harlot you were already done pleasuring yourself with! There is no justice to speak here, Jason. You are but a naive soul in the throes of love!"

The tone of her voice kept on rising. Each remark from Jason a cruel punishment. He felt the same. Medea had never failed in leaving his heart most scorched. Like mad mutts they exchanged demeaning sentences.

"What do you know about love, Medea? WHAT DO YOU KNOW? You would kill a man in his sleep if he had done so much as to unknowingly peeve you. The fair Aphrodite might have cursed you to be enamored by me, but she had not cursed you to become a slaughterer! Each action done by you is a result of your pampered lineage! Do not speak to me about love. You are a woman who had cut your kin to pieces and dress up such a vile act as assistance. I had brought you in Helias, guaranteed your fame in the same way I had earned mine. You think the world would know of your name had you not met me? You will not be even a dent in history otherwise, and how did you repay me? By trampling over the meaning of our quest! It is by you that we had obtained the Golden Fleece, but it is also by you that I had been unable to claim the throne that quest was devoted for!"

She found herself trembling. Quite perturbed. Not frightened, but vulnerable. As if each venom in Jason's tongue threatened to dismantle the woman within her all over again.

"I had loved you, truthfully."

Liar. Nothing but falseness in his words. Because he lied so often that he is no longer a man to be trusted even in his genuine honesty.

"And I needed not a Goddess' curse to prove that. In your slaying of Pelias, I had lost all right to reclaim the Iolcus throne, and had earned the ire and disrespect of the Argonauts. You never heard a word from me in spite of it all! I ran away with you, loved you still as I had vowed, treated like a foreigner in my own homeland with no home to call mine. Marrying another woman is so small of a betrayal compared to what you had taken from me!"

Her mind should not stop to reminisce how he placed his lips against hers on the ship's deck. How he had lain with her most nights with anxiousness shored away from his face, eyes gleaming with nothing but fervent love. The vows he announced to the Gods, how proud and victorious he looked when he loudly named her his wife. She must not remember this. She must not even look at it. She cannot take it.

"...the oaths you swore..."

With labored breathing, it was all Medea could reply.

"My oaths?" Jason scoffed, disgusted upon hearing this. "Yes, I had sworn to love you until we are of old age. But see, Medea, it was my mouth that swore, not my soul."

No. She will not hear more of this. No more. Her mind will break again.

Upon meeting Sir Gawain, she had promised herself she will not return to her menacing ways. She will bid goodbye to the woman she became and died as. Jason... Jason will never take this away from her.

So she turned her back with unwavering pride, no longer bothered by the words of an old ghost. She understood that he did not desire to be with her until the end. Why, he was an aging man, with beard and hair as thick as the wall he had placed between them. It was no longer suitable to remain married to a woman who was beginning to appear in the eyes of the mass as more so his child than his beloved wife in comparison.

She must let go. She must not let the past define her present. She must only be happy now, with someone else's devotion towards her. She must only think of the people who love and adore her.

She cannot help it. Her wrathful self will not allow her to leave his sight without a venom matching his own. So with her remained uninhibited, once again, she bit agonizingly into his heart.

"Go home to your wife and bury her."

Then, what occurred from here should have been expected, and yet she found herself utterly at lost for words and reaction to give. She held her swelling cheek and felt the harshness of Jason's touch. 

He had slapped her. 

He had lain his hand upon her again and without holding his strength back. She turned, idly, to feel delighted in the face he was making. Jason's anger is the only fuel she needed to resume her wickedness. Medea unequipped her robe, the expression upon her face clearing away what remained of her composed self. This mere satisfaction from earning his ire had driven her quite insane.

And his most loathed witch took quick steps to spit more painful words at his face, "HOW DOES IT FEEL?" she questioned him as she glared at him with pleased and insane passion. "TO HAVE MY TEETH IN YOUR HEART?"

And another slap came to greet her skin, this time accompanied with his violent fingers now wrapped around her throat. She once admired how beautiful his hands were. So easy to hold onto things it valued and just as easy to let go of things that were no longer convenient. It coiled so harshly upon her and her back almost shattered the wall she was pinned into. Raised up in the air, her feet could do nothing but feel the strangeness of being afloat without her consent. He had broken the bones of her spine with his spiteful push, but nothing is more painful than watching him laugh at her, so this is the far better outcome.

"YOU WILL NEVER EVER SPEAK OF GLAUCE AGAIN," he warned her, his teeth visibly grating, shockingly audible even. "Like I do not know the telltale from here. My goody two shoes wife had gotten unbearably familiar with another man. So whoring yourself to the King of Athens was not enough for you? If you hadn't been cursed by Aphrodite to become in love with me, for certain you would spread your legs to every man of the Argo just as much."

Right when she had been forgiven by the Gods she disappointed*, once again Medea would fall victim to wrath. She closed her eyes, sorrow leaving her body, only replaced with wrath, and wrath, and wrath all over again.

Thanatos, Hades, Persephone, Nyx and Circe... If you hear me, I know greatly of the evil deed I am about to commit. You shall bear witness to the burning skies ahead. How I shall feed these flames with unparalleled scorn.

In the name of Hecate who had seen in me great possibilities, And remains sheltered within me. I must once again upset you all, for Zeus had granted men knowledge to determine fake gold from true, but never brand a man to warn women that he must be avoided. By Lady Hecate--

No man will cast upon me tremendous pain and live long enough to rejoice about it.

A dagger materialized upon her hand, Rule Breaker, all prepared to bring divine judgement upon the world's most traitorous man. What will she do, a soul bitten into with wrong? She will storm the Gods and shake the universe.

And she would have done so if not for his words which followed.

"Even if you are to kill me in this life, I shall come back and meet your new man. Does he know the immoralities which surrounds you? The amount of dead body upon your hands? How you do not blink and how you sleep so peacefully after a murder? Remember this well whenever you ponder about harming me or touching me with your filthy hands. I will always come back. I will come back and remind you again of what you are, and in this life, Medea, I promise you--

That you will never know happiness once again. I will ruin everything you hold dear, as you had proudly done upon me."

Jason, without care for her well-being, released her and in his frustration kicked her by the waist, nothing but a slump of meat in his eyes. She is the reason for his greatest sorrows, and in turn he is behind her every pain. As Medea crumbled upon the ground, holding herself firmly, she began to soundlessly weep-- pain born from his physical assault and mental torment, though the latter was what she continued to lament. Her past mishaps, the cruelty she had acted upon are things she had prepared herself to tell Sir Gawain personally in the days that she had come to appreciate him. If Jason were to take that right from her, she would demand Zeus to strike her once again for dying would be better than this.

From hereon, she must begin to forget him and his warmth. He cannot know such crimes from someone else's mouth but hers. She will not be able to survive it. His eyes which only looked at her with admiration and appreciation-- If abhorrence were to replace it...

She would... She would...

Once again, she had become Jason's slave.

CONTEXT

*: My Medea interacted to a wide number of Greek God roleplayers in the time I have written her on Twitter and they all seem to have forgiven her for her past crimes and thought her deserving of a place in Elysium.

[reivenesque]

A Family We Chose for Ourselves CH8

Chapter 8: Noora (6717 words)

William reflects on his friendship with Chris and his relationship with Noora now that's everything has finally come to ahead.

“So, your Chris with my Eva, huh?”

Noora says it as more of a statement than an actual question. They’re sitting snuggled comfortably on the bench in the hospital garden; Noora is curled up against his side, resting her head on his chest and he has his arms around her shoulder holding her close.

“You do know that if he hurts her, Sana and I both are going to hold you personally responsible.”

William leans back slightly in an over exaggerated show of being taken aback. “Me? How am I responsible?”

“You just are,” Noora says, as if it’s in any way a legitimate answer. “Also, you should know that if you hurt me, you’re going to have to deal with Sana personally.”

The small chill that runs through his spine at the mention couldn’t be faked. William really didn’t know all that much about Noora’s friends, but one thing the Penetrators all agree on is that the Muslim girl is absolutely terrifying—and pretty hot, but with a much larger ratio of scary to hot. Vilde is clingy and a little needy, not that William would actually say those words out loud especially in front of Noora. He’d grown fond of his nuts and he intended for that relationship to last a lifetime, something that wasn’t guaranteed if he insulted Vilde in front of Noora again. He really doesn’t know their Chris at all besides the fact that his Chris seemed to like her a lot.

He was rather confused about that unexpected friendship in the beginning. He and Chris and a couple of guys were headed to the canteen during lunch when they passed by the blonde girl and her chubby friend in the hall. He didn’t know Vilde back then, so the sight of the two girls standing in the hallway really didn’t concern him at all. But Chris had raised a hand in greeting and said, “Hey, Chris.”

And one of the girls mimicked the action with a chipper, “Hey yourself, Chris,” with a wide smile.

They both shared a crisp high-five before he and Chris continued on their way and the two girls returned to whatever conversation they were having.

His immediate reaction had been a surprised, “What the hell, man?”

But Chris just grinned one of his Cheshire cat grins and said, “She’s cool.” And that had been that.

It wasn’t until months later after Chris got with Eva at the Halloween party and the news had gotten out and Iben threw a bitch fit in the courtyard of the school that William finally found out about the Adventures of Chris and Chris, as he’d put it.

Girls were so fucking complicated.

But looking at himself in that moment, smelling the sweet scent of Noora’s shampoo when he rests his chin on the top of her head, he thinks that old William was such a fucking asshole. He’s pretty sure Noora and ninety percent of the Nissen girls can and would be more than happy to attest to that.

Old William was more than happy to take whatever those girls were offering and accept everything they were putting out. He never asked for any of it, but they offered, so what hot blooded young man wouldn’t take advantage of that if they were in his shoes? He was young and he was horny and he didn’t need to explain himself to anyone; not his parents, not the school—it was his life and he was going to live it the way he wanted. He knew first-hand how short it could be and how everything could just change in a split second without warning. He made a promise to himself long ago to never live in the past or to dwell on what was already in the past.

He slept with girls and whenever it was done, it was in the past and he moved on to other girls and better things. It was an uncomplicated time and sex was an uncomplicated outlet. Girls wanted what he could give them so he gave it.

Vilde was the same; the same pretty face, same overeager desperation and lack of any real self-respect.

Looking back on it now, William realizes that the only one who lacked self-respect back then was him.

But then this blonde girl happened; her and her blood red lipstick walked up to him in a way no other girl had ever stepped up to him before. She cut him down a peg or two right in front of his friends, her friends and half the school and in that moment after she finished, William just couldn’t focus his attention on anything other than the fact that this was the most beautiful girl he’d ever laid eyes on.

She also didn’t want him which made him want her more.

William was used to getting what he wanted. His parents gave him nothing but bought him everything. Nikolai was—Nikolai was and is a dirt speck in his life. He loved his brother but he also hated him and feared him at the same time.

After far as he’s concerned, the only brother he really has is Chris and the Penetrators; they’re the only family he really needs because they were the only people who were there for him when he needed them the most.

Chris in particular is both a bright spot and a sore spot for William. A bright spot because Chris is his oldest and closest friend; the person William could count on at any time under any circumstances to have his back and be a shoulder to lean on. He’s also a sore spot because William never seemed to have his back in return. Every time Chris had gotten hurt it had been because of William. William was always starting fights and egging people on even when it wasn’t his intention and Chris was always there backing him up even when the fight had nothing to do with him. Even when it had to do with William’s own family because Chris couldn’t stand Nikolai even though they’d only ever met once.

William had asked him once why, and Chris had said that it was because he didn’t like the way Nikolai’s presence affected William; the way it would make William put up his walls and just shut down emotionally; the way it turned William into a different, almost an unrecognizable person. A person Chris really didn’t like. Up until that point, William didn’t even realize that he’d been doing it.

Chris was almost always over at his apartment, he hated being at his own because he hated looking around at his things and seeing his parents presence in everything he owned, but he’d avoid it like the plague whenever Nikolai had one of his episodes and would pop on over without warning like he owned the place. William hated when he did that; the apartment didn’t belong solely to him, but it had become his home and it felt like Nikolai tainted the place bit by bit with his presence every single time he came. It was also the unsettling feeling that his brother could just sense whenever William was at his happiest and would chose that exact moment to come.

Thoughts of his brother always made him angry but especially now; especially after what he did too Noora. He tries not to dwell on it; it was part of the past, and he learned long ago to leave the past exactly where it was. Nothing could change what happened, and nothing could bring his little sister back.

But sometimes he just gets so enraged, even in his vision he starts seeing red and whenever his anger reached that point, he thinks that if Nikolai were in front of him at that exact moment then he probably would be able to bring himself to kill his own brother. It wasn’t a thought normal people had, but maybe William wasn’t normal after all. Maybe he was a freak like everyone said he was. Maybe he was like his brother after all and that craziness did run in their family.

But he thinks of Noora in those instances; seeing her disappointed face and watching her cry because of him. He should be the one drying her tears, not the one causing them. Truthfully, that’s the only reason he manages to hold himself back even on the days where his anger threatens to consume him. When he remembers Noora’s silence and her distance and finding out that she’d locked herself away in her room for days, not eating, not sleeping. He remembers that and he feels his anger coursing through his body like he’s experiencing everything for the first time all over again.

The emotions and the memories might have been too real and to raw in that moment, William feels himself tensing up on the inside, his fist clenching subconsciously until a pair of small, soft hands reaches over to take his clenched fist and hold it tight in their grasp. He looks down and finds Noora’s gorgeous eyes staring back up at him worriedly. In that moment, he finds his breath caught in his chest and he feels like he’s experiencing the feeling of falling in love with her all over again.

“William,” Noora calls his name softly. “Are you okay?”

Smiling never used to come easy to him; the only person who could really make him smile in the past was Chris, especially when he got into one of his moods and started overdramatically enunciating some poor English word. But smiling around Noora, smiling because of Noora comes almost second nature now. He likes it. He likes the person he is around her because as confident as he’d been to everyone else, the truth was he hated the person he used to be. But at the time that was all he had, he was all he had and old William protected him when no one else was around to do so.

Chris would have, but Chris also had his own family troubles and William would never ask more of him especially because Chris was already willing to give him everything.

“I’m okay,” he says, sparing her a small smile. “Just—thinking.”

“Well don’t hurt yourself too much,” Noora says and he can’t help it, he bursts out into laughter.

Noora always knows the best way to ground him, especially when he feels himself starting to shoulder every little slight and every little mistake; watching it play over and over again in his mind and he can’t do anything to stop himself from doing so. He appreciates it more than he let on.

“I won’t,” he says in reply.

“Thinking about Chris?” Noora asks after a moment, reclaiming her spot curled comfortably into his side, her hands still holding his now unclenched fist tightly, tracing circles and indistinct patterns into the back of his knuckles.

“Among other things.”

“You really love him, don’t you?” Noora asks and it doesn’t come across at all condescending, only as a matter of factly and slightly curious.

William gives his words a thought before he answers the question. “Chris is—Chris. He’s been there for me when no one else was. He’s had my back since we were kids and even against Nik—” he stops abruptly, realizing that saying the name might not be the most appropriate line of conversation at this moment, not that it ever would be, for Noora and him both. “He’s just…really important to me. Just like you are.”

Noora is silent after he finishes speaking. But the silence isn’t tense or uncomfortable, just thoughtful. “You know, I hated you before.”

"Wow, I am shocked,” William says with the most deadpan tone he could muster.

Noora smacks him gently on the chest with the back of her hand but she has a smile on her face. “I’m being serious right now, so can you actually grow up for like two minutes.”

William pulls up the sleeve of his jacket immediately and looks at his watch. “Okay. You have two minutes.”

“God, you’re incorrigible. Why am I with you again?”

“Because I’m a good lay?”

“William!” Noora pulls out of the embrace with a flustered yelp. “Seriously. Don’t make me demote you back to Wilhelm.”

William holds his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Your two minutes have been reset, milady.”

Noora huffs, but resumes her position clinging onto his torso and resting her head on his shoulder. “Even before everything, I respected your friendship with him,” she says after a moment and it immediately sobers William up. “Even when I didn’t agree with you or what you did or the way you reacted with your actions and not your head. I realized—or rather, Sana made me realize that maybe I wasn’t all right and you weren’t all wrong. Maybe sometimes we do things for the people we love, even though it isn’t the right thing to do in hindsight. Sana made me realize that maybe, and that’s a small maybe—teensy maybe—that sometimes the wrong thing done for the right reasons can maybe be the right thing after all.”

William is silent when Noora finishes.  He honestly expected her to say a lot of things, because Noora usually had a lot of things to say, but he hadn’t been expecting that. “Sana is very smart,” he says finally.

“She is very. I guess we should thank her too, because we probably wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for her.”

“Well I guess I should send her a bouquet of flowers.”

“I’m pretty sure you need to send her more than that; maybe a Russ bus, because that would make Vilde super happy too, and both of us kind of owe her a lot as well.”

William laughs but he can almost hear the sound of the cogwheels turning inside his brain. “Maybe I will,” he says.

Noora’s attention snaps towards him when he says that. “I was just kidding.”

But when William has something on his mind, it stays on his mind. “Perhaps,” he says cryptically. “Also, wasn’t that the quote from the end of Pirates of the Caribbean? The one with Governor Swan an—”

He’s rewarded with another smack on the chest before he can finish and can only laugh cheekily as he attempts to shield himself from any further attack from Noora’s small fists. Eventually the laughter dies down and Noora ceases her onslaught and William gently pries himself from Noora’s side to get to his feet, stretching the kinks out of his joints before holding a hand out to her like an invitation.

“Shall we take a walk?”

“I’m serious about the Russ bus thing, William. I was just kidding,” Noora says exasperatedly, although she really should know William better than that at this point.

William pointedly ignored the statement. “Well if you don’t want to,” he says instead with a mock shrug. “I guess I’ll find one the eager nurses who’s been staring at me nonstop for the past couple of days to walk with me instead,” he says while taking his time to turn around, keeping a his eye and the mocking grin on Noora the whole time.

“You’re such an asshole, Wilhelm,” Noora says, but there’s no bite to her words and she’s smiling when she hops to her feet and reaches over to link her arm around the elbow William is now offering her.

“But I’m your asshole, Noora Amalie Sætre, and like it or not, you’re stuck with me,” he says. He can almost feel Eva’s disembodied presence at his side chiding him mentally until he says the word; “Here.”

Noora just stares at him with wide eyes that speak so much in that moment. “So you’re staying? For real this time?”

The hurt in Noora’s voice when she says the last part hurts him, and he regrets having put her through so much on top of everything else she’s already been through. He thinks he needs to send Eva a nice bouquet of flowers (or a Russ bus) as well for kicking his sorry ass into gear.

“I couldn’t think of a better place to be other than right here and right now,” he says. “With you.”

Noora’s smile in that moment is blinding and William thinks that this is the best decision he’s made in a long time.

Girls really aren’t as complicated as guys like to make them out to be. The only thing they really want is to be loved wholeheartedly and unconditionally and to no be lied to. It’s just guys who are usually too stupid to realize when they’re thinking with their head instead of their head. Guys don’t deserve girls, just like he doesn’t really deserve Noora.

When he thinks about it more deeply, he realizes that he doesn’t really deserve Chris either.

He’s been a shit friend to Chris for a long time and he didn’t even realize it until now; until he almost lost him for good. As good a boyfriend as he’d been to Noora, a worse friend he’d become to Chris who really didn’t deserve to be treated the way William had been treating him the past couple of months; leaving him behind with barely a notice; expecting him to be there waiting for whenever and if ever William decided to come back. Picking up the phone to call whenever he felt like it fully expecting Chris to be at the other end of the line waiting and not once taking into account his feelings in all this.

The guys had all been weepy and shit at the airport when he was flying out to London; a fact that had become the butt of many jokes from that point on, but William had been too oblivious back then, blinded by his excitement and his happiness at having Noora there by his side to really notice how quiet and reserved Chris had been through the whole thing. Once—just once, he asked Chris if he was okay, but the question hadn’t even been all that sincere. Chris noticed it. He didn’t. Chris had just answered with a casual, “It’s all good, man,” and his easy grin and William just accepted the answer at face value.

William had been too stupid and too blinded back then to realize that nothing was good about Chris at all.

It took months before it even occurred to him that maybe Chris was hurt by him leaving. He comforted himself with excuse that Chris knew of his plans to move to London after school anyway, and he’d been okay with it. Obviously he hadn’t been okay with it at all and it only really occurred to William after that phone call on the day of the attack.

Needless to say, William felt like the worst friend in the history of friends.

He’d spent the whole flight from London thinking and rethinking about Chris; going over the conversation they’d had just hours before; him making jokes and Chris as usual taking it in his stride. Then flashing back to that phone call, the one that has set everything in motion. Chris hadn’t said a word and it was the most terrifying thing he’d ever done.

It really wasn’t until he was on that flight, cut off from all communications, not knowing where his friend was or if he was okay, that he truly realized what gigantic piece of shit he really was. But the most important matter on hand was the fact that Chris was in trouble and William needed to be there for him.

He’d gone over the earlier conversation over and over in his mind for hours, thinking and analysing every single word Chris had said; the almost dismissive tone in his voice and the hurt that he only realized was there when it was obviously already too late to fix.

Chris was hurt because of him. Chris always got hurt because of him. He hurt Chris more than he was his friend and William realized that he didn’t deserve Chris’ friendship at all.

They’re walking down the pebble path between the trees in the garden; the sun is shining brightly overhead and the rays feel warm against his skin.

They’re walking.

Until they’re not.

William didn’t realize they’d stopped until he feels Noora pull away from his side, stepping around his front and pulling him with both arms against her chest, only then did he realize he had warm tears streaming down his face.

He was okay. Chris was okay and everything was fine.

But it really wasn’t fine. He’d hurt his friend so badly and then almost lost him without ever getting the chance to say sorry. It truly just occurred to him right then that Chris almost died. He almost died, and there would have been absolutely nothing William could have done to fix it. He almost lost the best thing he had in his life, the best friend he could ever have asked for and the only person in his life who’d never let him down.

Chris almost died alone and in agony, thinking his best friend had abandoned him for a new country and he wouldn’t have been wrong in his thoughts.

He wasn’t thinking about Chris, he was thinking only about himself and his wants and his needs. He only used Chris’ name to justify his anger when it was obvious to everyone that their friendship seemed more important to Chris that it was to him when that fact couldn’t have been further from the truth.

He should have done better. He should have been better; a better person and a better friend, a friend Chris deserved.

“It’s my fault,” he hears himself saying, burying his face in the crook of Noora’s shoulder. “Everyone tells me it isn’t, but it is. It’s my fault he’s hurt, it’s my fault he almost died. He doesn’t blame me and every time he says that the more I realize that I never did anything to earn his friendship.”

He feels Noora rubbing the spot between his shoulder blades and it’s a comfort he doesn’t deserve.

“That’s not true and you know it,” Noora says.

“It’s true. I couldn’t protect Chris from getting hurt over and over again. I couldn’t protect you from Nikolai. I couldn’t protect my little sister. I can’t do anything for anyone who matters to me. I don’t deserve your friendships or your love. I don’t deserve any of you.”

“No, William,” he feels Noora dislodging herself, taking a step back and grasping his firmly by the shoulder, pushing his back slightly to be able to look him in the eye. “I can’t speak for your family or for Chris, but I can speak for myself. What happened with your brother, that’s on him. You had nothing to do with it and you’re not responsible for any of it. Okay? He did what he did because he’s sick and I should have listened to you and trusted you when you told me not to trust anything he said. But I was hurt, and he took advantage of that. What happened isn’t on me or on you. I want you to know that, okay? I want you to trust me this time.”

William can’t bring himself to meet Noora’s eyes but he hears her words; he hears it with more than his head even though his heart is still struggling to accept everything she said. But she’d earned that, he at least owed it to her to listen and to trust her because they’ve both been through so much together already.

“And what happened with Chris—it just happened, William. The most important thing is just to be there for him now. What happened in the past can’t be changed; the only thing you can do is just be better in the future.”

William is momentarily taken aback by her words. It was as if she picked the thought straight from his brain.

His eyes are still damp but the trickling tears were ceasing. He tries to focus his eyes on Noora. On her eyes, unlike any colour or shape he’d ever seen in his life. On her hair; so blonde and so soft and William briefly recalls of the feel of the strands running through his fingers; stroking it and caressing it gently when it was the other way around and Noora was the one needing his comfort and his embrace. He looks at her face, so beautiful and so kind and gentle and always open with whatever emotion she was feeling.

Worry, nearly completely cloaked by steely determination; that’s what she’s feeling right now. And William tries grasp on to some of that strength for himself.

“Okay?” she asks finally with a small smile, reaching up to brush the last tear pooling in the corner of his eye away with her thumb.

“Okay,” he replies. He can’t find it in him to reciprocate the smile but he hopes his eyes manage to convey the truthfulness of his word.

“Good,” Noora says, she smile widening a fraction more before her hands trail down the length of William’s arms to hold his hands in both of hers. “Should we continue on our walk? I think I see one of those nurses you were talking about.”

This time it does manage to dredge up a smile and a small chuckle from William, who pulls a hand out of Noora’s to reach up and rub the tear tracks on his face. Noora lets him have a moment to compose himself before returning to her original spot at his side, snaking her arm around his waist and pulling his across her shoulder, holding it there with a firm grasp on his hand.

They continue the rest of their walk in silence after that.

William’s mind is a mess of guilt on top of guilt and Noora’s comforting voice echoing inside his head trying to push all the guilty feelings into the abyss, and flashback of Chris and him playing in playground when they were younger; fighting with other kids, getting beaten up, having a good laugh; all happening simultaneously in flashes that are almost too hard to concentrate on. All the broken bones and the black eyes and the bumps and bruises; joking about it after, sometimes through tears. No one else there to comfort them besides each other.

Chris always had his back and it was time William held up his end of the friendship.

Chris is asleep when they get back to the room and so is Eva. She’s curled up against his side on a miniscule amount of space on the bed, her hands tucked comfortably under her chin and head being pillowed on Chris’ shoulder. Chris face is turned towards Eva, almost burrowed in the head of brown hair by his cheek and the arm Eva is sleeping on is reaching back up to wrap around her side, holding her close.

It’s an intimate moment that neither William nor Noora think they have a right in infringe on so instead they step back out into the hallway and take a seat side by side in the row of chairs arranged by the wall.

“I really hope things work out between them,” Noora says, though she isn’t looking at William when she says it.

William can hear the unspoken meaning behind her words though. ‘Between us’ is what she’s actually saying, because if Chris and Eva of all people could somehow find a way to make it work after everything that’s happened between them, then there might be a chance for them as well.

Noora is a realist. William could tell from the first moment they met, and maybe their relationship did seem a little too ‘fairy-tale ending’ than she was really comfortable with but William didn’t think it made it any less real or genuine, or that it was just something fleeting. It didn’t mean his feelings for her were in anyways fake, if anything, this was the least fake William has ever been in his life.

Right here, right now, with this woman he loves so much, William thinks that this is most true to himself he’s ever been and often times he wonders whether he actually deserves any of this; Noora, Chris, the Penetrators and all the people he’s met along the way. The selfish part of him just wants to take it all and hold on tight because he knows that a moment of weakness, the moment he lets his guard down, everything can just disappear in an instance.

It took a split second for his sister to just—be gone. He didn’t even have time to blink and with her she took all the love his parents used to have for him and Nikolai.

He left his friends for just one night and they were attacked.

He turned his back and Noora left him and ran away back to Oslo.

It only took a moment for years’ worth of friendship to almost end in an instance.

Everyone always ends up leaving him and he promised himself a long time ago that he’d never put himself in the position to be left behind anymore.

But then Chris pushed his way through the fold, then the guys, then Noora and William couldn’t find it in him to hold up the barriers he’d painstakingly built around him any longer. It was the best decision he ever made in his life. It also meant that he was opening himself up to be hurt all over again, but he thinks that it had been a worthy price to pay for what he’d gotten in return:

Chris friendship, the guys’ loyalty and Noora’s love.

“Have you two talked?” he hears Noora’s voice punching through the cloud in his mind as he comes back down to the present.

“Yeah. We’ve talked,” he says.

“No, I mean have you two talked? Like really talked, about everything?”

William doesn’t really understand what she means, but there’s that steely determination in her eyes again and he knows that he’s about to get schooled.

“Like—you know, what happened between us in London. That was just—uh, things moving too quickly. Not in the relationship, but in everything else. London isn’t my home; the only person I have there is you. No Eva, no Sana or Chris or Vilde. I had nothing in London besides you and it felt like I’d lost a part of myself almost. You have your dad at least and your job there. I just wasn’t keen on playing the little wifey living in an unfamiliar country with no family and no friends.”

Once again William interprets the ‘Chris’ in Noora’s story as a representation of ‘us’.

“I get it,” William says and it is the truth; he was hurt by Noora leaving without a word but deep down he understood her side in all that.

“You do?” Noora asks. William is pleased to see that he’d managed to render her shocked for once.

“I do. I was hurt; I won’t lie, especially since you didn’t feel like you could even talk to me about it. You pulled back, when you should have just been Noora and said exactly what was on your mind. But I understood then like I understand now.” And it isn’t a lie, but William downplays how hurt he really was when he came home to discover her side of the closet empty, her suitcases missing and Noora just…gone. But he dealt with it like he deals with everything else and that was one of the reasons why it was so hard even thinking of coming back to Oslo even for Chris. The fact is, he probably wouldn’t have come back if Chris hadn’t gotten hurt because that was how hurt he really was.

But that’s all in the past now. Noora is here, Chris is here, all his friends are here and at the moment William thinks that that’s enough.

“Halloooo.” A chipper greeting catches their attention and both of them turn to see the girls approaching them from down the hall, Sana in the lead and being flanked on either side by their Chris and Vilde who are holding a bouquet of flowers and a couple of gaudy Get Well Soon balloons respectively.

“Hai, girls,” William greets as Noora pulls out of his embrace to stand as the three girls approach.

“William,” Sana replies curtly with an acknowledging nod. Her expression warms immediately when she turned to Noora and pulls her into a hug.

“Hai, William,” Vilde says the name in near reverence; an almost feline grin on her face as she brushes a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Chris bring up the rear with a gruff, “Dude,” and mimicking Sana’s acknowledging head nod from earlier.

“How Chris?” Sana asks when she pulls away and Noora moves on to embrace both Vilde and Chris.

“He and Eva are both sleeping. That’s why we’re out here. We didn’t want to disturb them,” William answers.

Sana just accepts his answer with a thoughtful, “Hm.”

It’s bizarre how the girl could unnerve him without even really doing anything. The more William interacts with the Muslim girl, the more he understands where the other guys’ awe disguised as fear was coming from.

“That was a little while ago, so I’ll just check if they’re awake now.”

Truthfully he really just wanted to get out of there. Vilde isn’t hounding him anymore, Sana is one of Noora’s closest friends and one of the people she obviously respects the most so he really should be more at ease around her than he is, and Chris is just—well, Chris. He wonders if it has anything to do with the name because somehow no matter what gender, Chris is always just Chris.

He leaves the girls to talk about whatever is it girls talk about and steps into the hospital room without making too much noise.

Chris’ eyes are already open when he enters. He’s looking at the still sleeping Eva curled up beside him, his fingers gently running through her hair in a soothing, repetitive motion.

“Chris?” he calls out, announcing his presence in the room so he wouldn’t startle either of them.

“William?” Chris turns his attention to him immediately. His eyes are still glazed over from sleep and he looks beyond exhausted still, but there’s a spark that ignites in his eyes the moment he hears William’s voice and it’s a fact that brings out not only on a heart-warming feeling in William but also a lot of regret.

“Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” he answers simple. “I think, ironically, I woke up because my arm started falling asleep.”

William chuckles. “Yeah. Doesn’t look that comfortable.”

“I just—uh, don’t want to wake her. I don’t think she’s slept properly in days.”

William can attest to that fact. He’s pretty sure he’s slept more than Eva the entire time they’ve been at the hospital.

“You’ve got company outside. It’s Eva’s friends.”

“Really?” there’s a surprised tone to Chris voice but a small smile tugs at his lips regardless. “Is Chris here too?”

William chuckles again. “Yeah. The adventure of Chris and Chris continues,” William says. “Want me to call them in?”

“Sure.”

William is about to turn before he stops in his tracks and instead steps closer to the bed, leaning in close to almost whisper to Chris without disturbing Eva. “By the way, I think—I think we should find some time to, you know—talk. About things, about everything.”

“What things?”

Williams isn’t sure how to answer, instead he swallows once. “You know—about what happened. About me leaving you behind and you getting hurt. I think—”

“I think you’re getting a bit too weepy in your old age William,” Chris interrupts him mid-sentence with disapproving shake of his head. “We’ve talked, haven’t we? And I told you it wasn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.”

“But—”

“But nothing, William. I know your girlfriend put you up to this cause that’s the way the girls do it. They talk about their feelings and all sorts of sappy shit like that. I told you it’s fine; what happened in the past happened. Just leave it be. You’re here now and that’s the only thing that matters. Seriously, I said it’s fine then and it’s fine now. And if you don’t stop whining about it I swear I’m going to punch you in the face.”

William isn’t sure how he thought that conversation to go, but in hindsight he thinks that that’s about what he expected was going to happen.

“Okay. Message received,” he says with a smile.

“Good,” Chris says with a huff, but he has a small smile on his face too and for the first time in a while, William thinks that maybe things are going to turn our okay after all.

“Glad we had that conversation,” William says with a grin.

“Whatever, William. Next time feel free to save the touchy-feeling shit for Erik or Borkis. That seems more their style.”

“Roger that,” William says before heading over to the door to call in the girls.

By this time Eva is already slowly stirring, like a cat stretching her limbs across the length of the bed before she reaches an arm out over Chris’s upper torso and latches onto him like a koala, resting her head, eyes still unopen, on his chest.

Noora and Sana enter first with Vilde following closely and Chris bringing up the rear. The moment his Chris’ eyes fall on the Chris of their group, William can see his face brightening almost immediately.

“Hey, Chris,” he greets with a wave and a wide grin.

“Hey yourself, Chris,” she replies with a grin of her own, raising a hand up in salute.

William watches the scene unfold with a grin of his own, not noticing Noora sidling up beside him until she slides her hand into his and grasps on tight.

“Did you guys talk?”

William looks down at her and spares her a smile. “Not in the way you expected, but yeah. We did.”

“Good,” she says and both of them look back just in time to catch the last part of a secret handshake his Chris and her Chris had at one point learned to do with each other. Eva at this point is obviously only pretending to be asleep, because Vilde is tickling her ear with a handful of her own hair and Eva keeps on trying to smother the smile threatening to emerge with varying degrees of success. Sana is at the foot of the bed tying the balloons to the rail while chiding one of them for one thing or another and being completely ignored.

William looks over at Chris and the wide smile he has on his face. A smile he at one point didn’t think he’d be able to see again, so the sight is something he bookmarks in the fond part of his memories. He looks down at Noora smiling at the antics of the people in front of her and William can’t help but smother the feeling of pride that bubbles up inside him. These two people, the two most important people he has in his life. He still couldn’t believe his luck, but here they both are in front of him. Real and within touching distance, and this time William promises himself that he’ll do everything in his power to not fuck this up. No matter how difficult, how trying it may end up being, William has known loneliness and fear, and those were two feelings he didn’t want to experience again.

Noora and Chris keeps those feelings at bay, so William knows that he has to keep the two of them even closer to him. He’d almost managed to push both of them away once; in Chris case, on many occasions. But Chris is still here and Noora is still here and William promises himself that he’ll do everything he can to be here for the both of them.

tbc.

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