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Ivan blinked, the rain that fell slowly soaked through his hair. He stared up into the melancholy sky, gray clouds littered about overhead. Till’s voice echoed from across the stage, quiet, depressed in a way Ivan struggled to consolidate with the man he'd fallen in love with. His Till, if he could selfishly call him that, spoke his mind boldly, without care for the repercussions.
He stood up straighter, a sense of déjà vu washing over him, goosebumps crawling across his arms. The crowd's cheers on all sides subsided to better hear the silver haired man's voice as he sang. Ivan watched him nearly glow in the spotlight, his own side of the stage rested in darkness.
Then the sky seemed to open up, a second spotlight bathed him in light, the microphone sparkling from within his trembling fingers. Ivan's own cue to sing came up, but his mouth would not move, hands tightening around the microphone until it creaked under the pressure. His heart beat rapidly in his chest, brain drawing up nothing for a good explanation.
‘Why am I here? It feels so wrong, I can't sing.’ Ivan managed to wrangle from his scattered thoughts.
Till stared at him, teal eyes wide and a flicker of fear visible in the way his shoulders tensed. Ivan didn't know what to do, his hands wouldn't move, he couldn't sing. In slow motion, Till approached him, clutching the front of his own shirt anxiously.
“What are you doing?” He hissed.
Ivan tried desperately to convey with his eyes that he didn't know. The raven haired man felt his chest ease as he glanced over at the screens. Even with them both having low points, Ivan would lose. He wouldn't have to lose Till and live on without meaning.
Ivan had to brace not to fall over when Till barreled forward, grabbing his collar, “What do you think you're doing?!”
Ivan frantically tried to pull away, he knew the penalties that would come from Till becoming violent. Ivan repeatedly attempted to speak, small gasps coming from his throat. Till kept his eyes firmly on Ivan, not glancing towards his rapidly dropping points due to the penalty.
A warning shot caused the two to flinch, but Till didn't release his collar, “You don't get to do this.” Till snarled.
Ivan opened and closed his mouth several times, voice caught in his throat, helpless to respond. Till’s eyes widened as a bullet pierced his neck, blood spilling from his lips. Ivan crumpled to his knees with him, clutching Till close to his chest. He desperately pressed his hands onto the wound, blood bubbling up past his hands. A sob tore through his throat as the exit wound made itself known, blood seeping through his pants.
Ivan silently mouthed, “Please, please no, please.” As Till’s eyes glossed over, staring up at Ivan unseeingly.
Till’s heart gradually slowed beneath his fingers, eventually ceasing outright. A surge of pain crashed over his shoulders, crumbling onto the floor, burying his face into Till’s chest. Harsh sobs hollowed out his chest, ripping through his body as he clutched blindly at Till’s clothes, trying to hold the dead man together. Whispering pleas to try and convince Till’s spirit not to leave his husk now held in violently trembling arms.
The husk consisted of meat and bones, Till no longer within. Yet Ivan clung to the body as if he could will Till to return, will Till to come back to him.
Ivan collapsed completely, blacking out, the last thing he registered being Till’s lifeless body below him.
—
Ivan's eyes snapped open, his surroundings dark, something mechanical whirring nearby. He stiffened up, images of androids with guns in hand flashing across his mind. Ivan reached for the nearest object, chucking it in the general direction of the whirring. He reached quickly for his lamp, tapping twice, the room coming to life in an instant. Light poured around every suspicious crevice, his fan that had been on his desk, providing cooling in the harsh desert heat, now laid uselessly on the floor. Ivan frowned, fingers shaking as he gripped his blankets in tight bunches.
With a deep exhale, he threw the blankets aside and hopped to his feet, hurrying into the hallway. He ran as silently as possible, wanting to avoid waking or disturbing anyone else. Ivan skidded to a halt in front of Till’s door, finally hesitating, shame slowly creeping up and filling his lungs.
He raised his hand to knock, tremors still raking through his entire body, each breath faster than the last. Blood rushed in his ears, heart beating hard against the ribs that kept it caged, as if it wanted to escape and flee to the one who it rightfully belonged to.
He ended up just flinging the door open instead, which promptly hit the wall with a resounding thud. Easily loud enough to wake up Till in a panic, those teal eyes immediately opening and locking onto Ivan like some kind of intruder standing in his doorway.
Then, the sleep that clouded Till’s mind faded, the animalistic fear shifting to worry at whatever expression he must've seen on Ivan's face.
“Ivan…?” Till asked, voice hoarse with sleep.
He opened his mouth to speak, before slowly closing it, feeling incredibly stupid and pathetic. Here Ivan was, standing in the middle of Till’s doorway at night, because he got so rattled by a nightmare that he couldn't tell reality from fiction.
Ivan took a step in to grab the doorknob, fully intending to shut the door and walk away, but Till called out to him before he got the chance.
“Hey, what- no. Come here.” Till demanded, voice groggy.
Ivan hesitated, but knew he'd end up being more of a bother if he took off down the hall. While Ivan could absolutely outrun and evade Till, he didn't see the point. They'd have to eat breakfast together, and he didn't feel like being grilled in front of their peers.
So he took a few more steps into Till’s room, who huffed at him, disgruntled.
“Close the door behind you.” Till muttered, fully sitting up now and shaking the blankets off.
Ivan did so wordlessly, now standing directly in the center of Till’s room. The two sat in silence for another moment, before Till sighed.
“You have a nightmare or something?” Till rested his head on his hand as he eyed Ivan.
Ivan swallowed thickly, nodding. He didn't trust his voice, didn't trust he wouldn't destroy this fragile moment between the two.
Till sighed, “Figured as much. Come here.”
Ivan blinked at him, dark voids with red pools in the centers staring at him uncomprehendingly. Till huffed an exasperated laugh, motioning Ivan closer.
“Come here. I'm not repeating myself again.” Till warned, holding the blanket up.
Ivan's legs moved before his mind could catch up, sliding under the blanket, resting at Till’s side. Till let it fall over Ivan, still staring at him with that same worry-ridden expression.
“What was it about?” Till asked, as Ivan settled down to face him fully, laying side by side.
“I…” Ivan hesitated, feeling stupid again, “It was about round 6.”
Till’s eyes clouded a bit at the mention of that cursed round, but he pushed down the rush of memories in favor of listening to Ivan.
“Round 6?” Till asked softly, “You said you've had dreams about it before… What's different about this one?”
“I couldn't sing.” Ivan frowned, “I was so confused… And you… Freaked out. When I didn't start singing. And I couldn't say anything, and you started grabbing my shirt… And- and then, you, they were- I-” Ivan's train of thought died as tremors raked through his body.
Till’s hand came up and cupped his face, “Hey, hey… I'm okay. We're okay. Breathe. Ivan, you need to breathe.”
Ivan leaned into his touch, fully aware now of the tears spilling down his cheeks against his will. He tried to breathe, but his traitorous body wouldn't let him. Waves of fear threatened to shatter him, washing over him like ice cold water, one after another.
“They shot you-” Ivan choked out, “It all happened so fast… One, one moment you were tugging on my shirt, the next you were dead. I, I felt it- When your heart stopped beating, I-”
Till pulled him into a tight hug, curling around the taller man. Ivan didn't resist him, simply looped his arms around Till’s middle, burying his face into his shoulder.
“I'm okay Ivan, none of that happened. I'm here, alive. Because of you, and the rebellion. We were saved. We're in my room, at the base.” Till spoke slowly so that Ivan could grasp his words in the scattered mess that his mind had become.
“It felt so real.” Ivan mumbled, words muffled against Till’s shirt, “I don't think I'd have survived if it was real.”
Till huffed, tightening his grip on Ivan, “Well good thing it wasn't, because you're not going anywhere.”
Till’s breathing hitched at the tremor that ran through Ivan's body, tears burning his own eyes. He rubbed Ivan's back in firm, comforting circles.
“I've got you.” Till spoke with intense vehemence.
Something Till hated about Ivan was the fact he always cried so quietly. Choked down his sobs, muffled them as best he could, bit his tongue. It made him hate Unsha more, something Till long thought impossible. If Till could, he'd kill the bastard.
Instead, he held Ivan through the surges of fear and grief, caressing between his shoulder blades with careful fingers, smoothing out his hair.
“You don't have to be so quiet.” Till reminded, trying to keep his voice gentle.
As gentle as Till could be.
Ivan shook his head, and Till frowned. He played with Ivan's hair, mulling over his options.
He decided to probe a bit, “Why not?”
“Don't know how.” Till had to strain to catch Ivan's words.
Till’s heart broke for the man in his arms, anger rushing through him, making his cheeks warm. But he bit it down, forced himself to take a deep breath, letting the anger flow out of him with it. He could contemplate murdering a certain Segyein later, Ivan needed him right now.
“Okay. Here, first, stop biting your tongue, unclench your jaw. That'll help.” Till pulled back just enough to cup his face, running his thumbs along the edges of Ivan's chin.
Ivan blinked, unaware he'd even been doing so, and his jaw popped as he relaxed it. Till wiped away a few of his tears still falling, and after a moment of hesitation, pressed a soft kiss to Ivan's forehead.
Ivan's eyes widened, the red dots within deep black voids widening as his eyes shone at the contact. More tears welled up, and Till frowned, worried he'd made it worse.
“Sorry, was that too much?” Till asked softly.
Ivan quickly shook his head, “No, I- just-... Nobody has ever… Done that… Done this for me before… I… I don't deserve it. You, this, this softness.”
Till huffed, the anger he stamped down a few minutes ago came back for an entirely new reason, “First of all, you're wrong, second, it doesn't matter if you do deserve it or not, because I'm going to give it to you anyways. Got it, dumbass?”
Ivan didn't argue further, just nodded and easily nestled closer when Till lightly eased him back into the hug. Till swayed with him now, humming softly, some nostalgic tune from back in the garden. Ivan shifted to press his ear to Till’s chest, drinking him in, the sound of his voice, his comfort, his heart still beating, all of him. He wanted to drown in Till.
Ivan wasn't prepared for the sheer exhaustion that hit him, unfamiliar with emotional breakdowns or crying. He blinked wearily, allowing Till to lay him down and curl up on his chest. Ivan struggled to keep his eyes open, fear still tingling in the back of his mind.
“Go to sleep Ivan, I'll be here when you wake up.” Till assured, rubbing a hand up and down his arm soothingly.
Ivan's eyes fluttered shut despite a small part of his brain still screaming of danger. The slow rise and fall of Till’s chest snuffed out the alarm bells, leaving him to doze, falling into a dreamless sleep.
In the relative quiet, Till pondered how exactly he was going to flay Unsha like a fish. He doubted Isaac would approve of the idea, but that didn't stop him from dreaming.