Memo’s shoulders physically creaked as Alex finally let go of his wrists. A second later and he was being tugged up.

With Alex leaning over Memo was the perfect height to press his forehead against his boyfriend’s, eyes fluttering shut, suddenly incredibly tired.

“You die,” he whispered, shocked at the seeming betrayal of his own voicebox. “In all of them. You you die in all my nightmares.”

[attr="class","mintag"] Alexei Ivanov

“You can’t promise that,” he says, and he’s, again, shocked at the betrayal of his own vocal chords. “I watched you die. You don’t remember, but I do.”

His breathing grows quicker. A slightly maniacal giggle escapes him. “You-- you know that’s twice, now, twice I’ve caused you to get gravely injured and I haven’t even known you for a year.”

He presses the heel of his hand into the bridge of his nose, hard; trying to stop from spiraling. Trying not to break apart.

"I watched you die and I didn't even care. I couldn't do anything to stop you and I promised-- I promised that would never happen. I lied to you, Alex."

And then. And then.

“And then--,” he’s crying a little now. “--the next time I see you you’re unconscious on the beach and you’ve clearly been through something bad and I. I wasn’t. I couldn’t help. I was useless.”

[attr="class","mintag"] Alexei Ivanov

I’m here, he says, aiming to soothe Memo’s hurts, to bandage his psychological wounds. I’m herep, he says, even as he winces at the touch.

Guillermo recoils, pushing gently against the hug, not wanting to cause Alex any more harm than he already had.

“You almost weren’t,” he says, half a sob, “you almost died.”

It isn’t fair that Alex is the one damaged and hurt and Memo came through everything fine. It isn’t fair that Alex is the one that keeps getting hurt. And it’s Memo’s fault.

“Out of my control,” he parrots, warbly and tear-stained, as a sardonic smile curls across his face, “meaning I wasn’t strong enough to prevent anything that happened.”

His hands stay open in Alex’s clutches, afraid he’ll hurt him more, but also as a self-imposed punishment for self-perceived failures.

My nightmares are real and they’re all my fault, he doesn’t say.

[attr="class","mintag"] Alexei Ivanov

“It’s not a trick,” he says, a harsh and horrible laugh, mirthless and dry, “it’s the truth. I wish it was a trick because then it wouldn’t be real.”

Alex doesn’t relent. Keeps pulling him closer. Memo doesn’t want to hurt him so he doesn’t go forward, doesn’t repel… just freezes.

He opens his mouth to expunge, to explain more-- closes it again, feeling pathetic. Alex doesn’t deserve to be broadsided with his emotions in the face of his own shortcomings. Alex doesn’t deserve to be weighed down by him and he doesn’t deserve Alex.

“...I wish I could make you fine,” he says, instead, still frozen, half-up and half-down, tired and wired and feeling like if he squeezed his eyes shut hard enough he could blip out of existence, up beyond the clouds and out to the star-dust of space where there’s not an atmosphere and things don’t matter.

“I wish I could make everything fine.” But that sounds pathetic again and tears prick at his eyelids.

[attr="class","mintag"] Alexei Ivanov

His head cocks almost imperceptibly, listening as Alex explains what he means. Memo sighs, the constriction in his chest relenting, if only slightly. “Yeah.”

How many times had he thought that very same thing over the last few weeks? Ever since that stupid cyberspace debacle. Ever since he watched Alex die.

It had affected him more than he cared to admit. To the point where he didn’t even know who he was anymore.

He slowly laid back against the pillows, head tilted, looking off to the side of the room.

“When we were in… that place,” he said, voice quiet in the night, “I… got cut off from all my positive emotions, feelings. The happiness, the compassion. Everything that made me… me.” He swallowed against the emotion that choked his throat, the tears that threatened to spill. “It… it was awful. The fact that I was completely out of character was bad enough but having to… it’s hard to explain.”

And it was, in a way, something that no one else but himself would ever be able to grasp. Being rewritten at your base level and spat back out as something-- someone-- unrecognizable, even to yourself.

“I think… that changed me. Not for the better.”

He looks up at Alex, wet-eyed. Is this what you wanted? he wants to ask. What a mess of a baby I've become?

"I couldn't live with myself if I lost you."

[attr="class","mintag"] Alexei Ivanov

Oh, right. Alex had a big hole in his memory. Timed with the loss of his eyes and his freaking heart.

“The-- the third scan, I think. Took something from everyone. From me it took everything positive. From you, it took your eyes.”

He swallowed, remembering. Remembering how much Alex had needed him in that exact moment and the only thing he could do was be angry that Alex didn’t remember him. Feel mad at how useless the newly blind man was.

Barely touching the memory made nausea spike in him and he clapped his hands over his eyes to stop the world from spinning.

“If I think about it too much, I’ll puke,” he confessed. “But… it was me. Physically. But emotionally I was… different. Awful. Horrible.”

[attr="class","mintag"] Alexei Ivanov