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Nov. 13th, 2015 09:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
somepoorsoulFor two weeks, Athos has been chasing a ghost.
He has caught glimpses, of course, and more than glimpses. This creature that wears his brother’s face appears in the dark of night to taunt him and remind him of the horrors his failings have set loose upon the world. Each night, despite himself, he goes searching - for more abuse, and more pain, and another desperate glimpse of Thomas’ face, even twisted in agony.
You are the monster, Thomas’ cold eyes, as blue as Athos’ own, seem to say every time they do find each other on this hellish Darrow’s ashy, abandoned streets. You are the reason I stand before you thus, a creature of blood and hate. You should have protected me, and instead you brought a deadly Jezebel into our house, and abandoned your family, and brought pain to every person you have known since.
Even when Aramis and Porthos stand by his side, the truth of that silent accusation lodges his way into his heart each time he catches sight of Thomas’ ghostly form.
Now, night has fallen again on this dark Darrow, and the same force, the same need that has drawn Athos to the streets each night draws him to the Bramford’s roof. Leaving Porthos and Aramis to sleep in what is left of their apartment - after much argument, he had finally convinced them to rest for a few hours at least - he takes the stairs to the very top, and there, looks over Darrow’s eerie skyline. His heart pounds and his expression is tight with expectation - though for what, he does not know.
Above him, not a star is visible in the sky. Below, no light shines.
Then, somewhere behind him, Athos hears a sudden sound that interrupts the ghostly silence.
He has caught glimpses, of course, and more than glimpses. This creature that wears his brother’s face appears in the dark of night to taunt him and remind him of the horrors his failings have set loose upon the world. Each night, despite himself, he goes searching - for more abuse, and more pain, and another desperate glimpse of Thomas’ face, even twisted in agony.
You are the monster, Thomas’ cold eyes, as blue as Athos’ own, seem to say every time they do find each other on this hellish Darrow’s ashy, abandoned streets. You are the reason I stand before you thus, a creature of blood and hate. You should have protected me, and instead you brought a deadly Jezebel into our house, and abandoned your family, and brought pain to every person you have known since.
Even when Aramis and Porthos stand by his side, the truth of that silent accusation lodges his way into his heart each time he catches sight of Thomas’ ghostly form.
Now, night has fallen again on this dark Darrow, and the same force, the same need that has drawn Athos to the streets each night draws him to the Bramford’s roof. Leaving Porthos and Aramis to sleep in what is left of their apartment - after much argument, he had finally convinced them to rest for a few hours at least - he takes the stairs to the very top, and there, looks over Darrow’s eerie skyline. His heart pounds and his expression is tight with expectation - though for what, he does not know.
Above him, not a star is visible in the sky. Below, no light shines.
Then, somewhere behind him, Athos hears a sudden sound that interrupts the ghostly silence.
