Pairing: S/X
Rating: PGish
Genre: Angsty. Sort of takes place in the future.
Summary: Some memories you have to hold onto.



Hanging On


by
Markedxup


There was a nice moment, a slow one, between the fighting and yelling and cursing that stuck with him for a long time.

When he was low, unable to think of small blondes or apocalypses for one more bloody second, it would pop into his mind, unbidden but not unwelcome. In a way it was almost like a security blanket. Or maybe like a good luck charm, always hanging around his neck and pressing its reassuring weight onto his chest. He’d feel for it when he needed some internal peace, turn back to it when he needed something familiar.

It was just a brief, seemingly unimportant memory that other people wouldn’t have given a second thought to.

But he gave a second, and a third, and probably many more than he should have.

And when they were finally gone, heroes and former enemies too brave for their own good, he clutched onto that memory like his last piece of sanity. Wearing it down, glassy, small cracks and details smoothed out from his endless use, mind rubbing over it again and again until it became so attached that sometimes he couldn’t remember if it had really happened or if his mind had morphed a meaningless moment to seem like much more than it really had been.

It wasn’t much.

A few silent seconds. A brief touch, warm skin and damp cloth.

Dark hair and dark eyes and dark sky and dark thoughts.

But it wasn’t what had happened, rather what happened because of it.

Fewer fights, a spot on the couch, a useless glass of water next to his bed when he woke in the middle of the night, screaming into his pillow.

He’d probably blown all these things out of proportion by now, thinking they meant something when they meant nothing at all. But he liked to pretend they did.

So when they were long gone, decomposing, floating around in that make-believe heaven, he could pull that moment out of the nighttime air, feel it, stroke it, let it rest comfortably on his shoulder, before packing it up again.

Waiting for another time when he needed it to get through the long, lonely night.




The End





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