Chapter Text
It was a cold autumn night as Sinclair stepped out of the bus. The bus he rode wasnāt the red, bigger on the outside, human consuming, the bus that he was familiar with.
It was one of the normalest buses in the city. Like many other he rode in the past.
He didnāt wear his Sinner uniform, but a warm jacket, glasses, and a deep blue scarf that was wrapped around his neck snugly.
After years of working with the sinners he grew close to, he was finally discharged from the company as his contract reached its end.
For the first time in years, he felt truly alone as he stood on the empty street as the bus behind him drove away.
His hand trembled slightly as he clutched his bag containing all his belongings. The cold autumn wind bit at his chubby cheeks, making his eyes water. He looked around the familiar street, feeling utterly lost and abandoned without the comfort of his friends.
In a moment like this, if he was still with his friends, heād just follow along them. Faust would say something smart that would make him feel like they know what theyāre doing, Don Quixote would say something about justice or fixers, reassuring that whatever happens it will be okay. Heathcliff would tell him to get it together and stop whining... But none of them were there. He was alone.
He missed the constant bickering, the shared meals, the late-night conversations. He missed the sense of belonging he felt among his friends. Now, he was just another nobody in the City, discharged and forgotten.
The blond took a shaky breath. He felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to fall into an unknown abyss. The loneliness was overwhelming, and he suddenly wished he had someone ā anyone ā to hold onto.
...But he knew he had to push forward. To be an independent, strong man he was striving to be.
With a determined sniffle, Sinclair straightened his shoulders and started walking down the street. He looked deep into himself, like the one he once loved advised him to... and he heard a voice, an answer. He knew what to do now.
He would find a place to stay tonight. He would figure out what to do next tomorrow... Heād probably need to find a new job and start his life over... Alone. But that was fine. He can do it, he could do it.
But for now, he had one goal in mind. He decided to travel here, to Calw, for a reason... to visit his familyās graves.
His pace quickened slightly as he walked towards his old burned home. The cold wind didnāt bother him anymore; instead, it seemed to calm his racing thoughts. Visiting his familyās graves was the first thing that came to his mind when he was discharged, it just felt like something he needed to do. And, there was just a small hope, that maybe, standing there, he could feel closer to them somehow. Maybe... He could ask them for guidance like he used to when he was a kid.
The streets of Calw were familiar, he knew where to go, he grew up there after all... despite the recent fire.
He eventually found the old the charred remains of the mansion he used to live in, his childhood home. His heart ached. The fire had left little behind, just memories and ashes... The once grand mansion was now nothing more than a blackened shell, a reminder of the fire that took everything that remained after his family was murdered. He walked past it without hesitation, heading straight for the overgrown garden. The crunching of leaves under his feet was the only sound breaking the silence.
The mansion loomed behind him, and the cold wind howled through the trees as he reached the place where his family was buried. Moonlight cast a gentle light onto the three graves, the only thing indicating that anything was there, were the three, old, wooden crosses he made himself.
The blond stood there for a moment, just looking at the graves. He felt a strange sense of peace wash over him, like he was finally where he belonged.
He remembered the day he made those crosses, the day he buried his family. It felt like a lifetime ago. He dropped his bag to the ground and knelt down in front of the graves, reaching out to gently touch the old, cold wood.
He hadnāt been back here since... since the fire, where he had to bury them again, for the second time.
He reached for the cross necklace he kept under his clothes. He held the small silver cross tightly, closing his hand into a first. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.
āMama, papa, big sis... Iām back,ā Sinclair whispered softly, as if they could hear him. His voice was barely audible over the rustling of leaves and the distant howl of the wind.
āI know itās been a while... I couldnāt come sooner, I-Iām sorry...ā He paused, swallowing hard.
āI-I got discharged... The company doesnāt need me anymore,ā he chuckled softly, bitterly. āIām all alone now... Like I always was...ā His voice broke slightly on the last word. He opened his eyes, looking at their graves with tear-filled eyes. āI miss you...ā
He sat there in silence for a long moment, just staring at the graves and lost in thought. The cold wind continued to blow, ruffling his hair and chilling him to the bone, but he didnāt move. He felt a strange sense of comfort being here with his family, even if they were just graves.
āI wish you could see me now...ā he spoke suddenly. āIām... I-Iām not the same little boy who cried every night missing you. I grew up, I... I-I did things, saw things... Things that would make you proud and... things that would make you want to disown me...ā he confessed, his voice cracking slightly as he put the cross necklace back under his clothes.
āI became a murderer... I killed people... I saw my friends die... I got shot, mauled, cut to pieces, stabbed a million times...ā He brought his hand to his neck, touching the familiar blue scarf that hung wrapped around it.
ā...I did bad things... Really bad things...ā he paused, swallowing hard again. He didnāt have the heart to tell them about how many innocent lives he took, lives of people he loved and cared for.
āM-Mama, youād probably cry seeing me smoke and drink until I-I canāt think anymore... And papa, youād hit me for hurting myself over and over again... B-Big sis, youād say Iām stupid for letting everyone walk over me, being a pushover...ā he chuckled softly, then his expression darkened. āYouād all hate me if you saw what I did... what I had to do...ā
He took a deep breath, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. āI-Iām sorry... Iām so sorry...ā he cried out as he buried his face in his hands, tears streaming down his cheeks as he sobbed quietly. The wind picked up again, howling mournfully through the trees like it was crying with him. āI-I didnāt want to be like this... t-to end up like this... like a monster, a failure...ā
He wrapped his arms around himself, hugging tightly as if seeking comfort from his long-dead family. āI-Iām sorry... Iām so sorry for everything... I-I wish you were here... I wish I could hug you one more time... I-I miss you so much...ā
Sinclair cried and cried in front of the graves, until he couldnāt cry anymore, until all the tears he had held inside him spilled and none were left.
āYouād hate me... Iām sure you would...ā he whispered softly, a single, last tear rolling down his cheek. He felt like a monster, a horrible person for doing what he did. And yet... he felt some kind of relief saying it all out loud to his family, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
āB-But... Iām alive... Iām still breathing... And for some reason, I donāt know why, I still havenāt given up...ā he wiped his tears roughly with the back of his hand. He took a deep, shuddering breath. āAnd... Iām okay with it... With who I am now. I did what I had to do to survive... and now Iām back. Iām back where I started, alone... Just like back then, when I lost you...ā
He fell silent again, his tears drying on his face. The wind picked up, whistling through the trees and rustling the leaves. He shivered slightly, holding his arms around himself tighter for warmth. He didnāt realize how cold he was until now.
ā...I donāt know why Iām telling you all this...ā he whispered. āYouāre not even here to listen, you canāt answer me...ā he sighed, wiping his nose from snot. āB-But... I guess... it feels good to talk to you again... to b-believe that maybe you really listen... even if you canāt answer.ā He paused, looking up at the moon.
The sky was filled with tiny stars, the moon was full and bright.
āSis... remember how we used to look out the window and count stars together?ā he remembered suddenly. āYou always won because you knew all the constellationsās names...ā He smiled sadly at the memory. āI still canāt tell them apart...ā
He fell silent again, just staring up at the stars, the only sound being the wind and the occasional distant noise from the city. He missed his sister so much, her gentle smile, her soothing voice, her warm embrace... She was always there to comfort him when he was scared or sad. And now she was gone, just like his parents. Just like everyone he ever cared about.
He sat there for what felt like hours, just thinking, remembering, regretting, and accepting. Normally, in a moment like this, he would pray, but he lost his faith long ago.
The graves were his only company, his only listener. And for now, that was enough. But in this silence he only came to realize how truly utterly alone he was. He had nowhere to go, his home was burned, he didnāt have any relatives he knew of besides his parents and sister... even his friends, the fellow ex-sinners, couldnāt help him now. They had their own lives to deal with.
āWhat am I gonna do now...ā he whispered to himself, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, still looking at the sky. He felt completely untethered from the world, like a ghost drifting through life with no purpose and no home.
...He wished Demian was there. Out of everyone, his family, his friends, he missed one person the most: Demian.
He closed his eyes tightly, a few tears escaping and rolling down his cold cheeks.
āDemian...ā he whispered his name like a prayer, like a desperate plea for help.
He wished Demian was there, he always knew what to do, how to help... He missed him so much that it hurt. Demian was the only person who really understood him, who accepted him for who he was without judgment or expectation. He buried his face in his knees, his shoulders shaking silently with sobs.
But Demian wonāt come, he wonāt come and help him. He wonāt come flying from the sky and carry him back to his world of light... Because he was gone. Just like his family. And the worst part was, his life was taken by Sinclair himself.
He thought about this every night, the scene playing over and over in his head, ever since that day.
He had no choice, Demian stood against him and his friends, he had no choice but to fight him.
No choice...
Demian attacked first... he left him no choice.
He saw his younger self gripping the halberd tightly, parrying Demianās blows. He was too strong... he wouldāve killed everyone in a simple swing of his arm.
And yet he faltered in front of Sinclair, his attacks significantly weaker against him, he hesitated every time their eyes met, every time they clashed.... It was clear he really didnāt want to fight Sinclair. He couldnāt bring himself to fight back in full force. He was too gentle, too soft... He couldnāt bring himself to really harm Sinclair, even if it meant his own demise. And that was his weakness. Sinclair knew that. He knew he was the only one who could have defeated him, everyone relied on him. Thatās why he was the one to strike the final blow.
Demian was always so strong... So powerful. He was the one to save him, to protect him. But this time... This time it was different. This time, Demian was the threat. And Sinclair was the one who had to fight back... He was the one who had to win.
His halberd pierced through Demianās chest.
The look on Demianās face at that moment was something he will never forget.
His usually unchanging smile and warm eyes changing into shock, the pain. Betrayal etched into every line of his face. The blade sank deep, black blood blooming instantly across Demianās chest, making him collapse.
Sinclair remembered how, for a moment, he completely forgot what he was doing, what was his goal in that moment. He remembered how he immediately rushed to hold Demian in his arms, despite being the one who hurt him in the first place.
āIām sorry...ā he remembered whispering desperately against Demianās pale face over and over again. He remembered Demianās warm blood soaking into his clothes, staining his hands black, he remembered trying to stop the bleeding with his hands like an idiot. Demian looked at him weakly with those familiar gentle eyes, even then covered with pain and betrayal but never anger... Never hatred... His breaths coming in shallow gasps, his face paling by the second, his weak grip on Sinclairās shirt like he was holding onto life itself...
He remembered the smile that appeared on Demianās face, all the betrayal and sadness disappearing.
He was proud of him. Proud of him for proving to him that he really grew, that he really broke out of his egg, that he didnāt need him anymore. This was the ultimate proof of everything he learned and worked for... That was the first time in so long he saw Demian truly happy.
That smile haunted him every single night. His smile was genuine and warm, despite the blood and pain. He remembered how Demian reached up a shaking hand to touch his face gently. His thumb brushed over Sinclairās cheek almost lovingly, before wiping away a tear that Sinclair hadnāt even realize had fallen. His voice was barely above a whisper, but filled with love and acceptance.
He could still remember his last words. Words that he thought about every day. They couldnāt leave his head.
āListen, little Sinclair... Iāve got to go now. Perhaps you will need my help against Kromer or something else again... But if you send me a message, I wonāt come to you from the sky to solve it all for you. You will have to listen to your inner voice... and then... You will hear me speak within you...ā
Those words echoed in his mind like a haunting melody every night. Demianās voice, soft and gentle even in death, giving him one last piece of guidance.
He had grown up, become stronger, more independent ā exactly as Demian wanted. But sometimes, late at night, he would still whisper prayers to the sky, hoping for a sign, for Demianās guidance. And then... he would remember the promise.
The idea that Demian would always be with him, not physically but spiritually, guiding him from within... It was comforting.
After those words, Demian asked him to close his eyes. And before he knew it ā a kiss was planted on his lips.
He remembered that kiss like it was yesterday. Soft, gentle, and filled with unspoken words. A confession of love from both of them, even though they had never spoken those words aloud. It was soft, gentle ā almost like a blessing or a farewell kiss.
He remembered how Demianās lips felt... They felt cold, delicate, tasted like bitter blood and something sweet he couldnāt place.
The kiss lasted a while. He couldnāt tell how long but it felt like eternity...
Eternity.
Thatās what it felt like.
An eternal moment frozen in time, where nothing else mattered but the sensation of Demianās cold, blood-stained lips against his own. It was a kiss that held more weight than any other, a first kiss filled with unspoken emotions and a final goodbye. It was slow, deep, almost like they had all the time in the world. Like they werenāt in the middle of a bloody battlefield. Like Demian wasnāt dying slowly in his arms. He remembered how Demianās hands came up to cup his face, keeping him close.
He remembered pulling away slowly for air, his heart racing and his mind reeling from the sudden rush of emotions.
And then...
Nothing.
Sinclair looked down at Demianās face, expecting to see him smiling weakly, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths... But he was met with stillness. Demianās hands fell away from his face long ago, his body was limp in Sinclairās arms. No more gentle breaths against his skin, no more beating heart under his palm. His eyes were closed, his expression peaceful.
Just... Silence.
Stillness.
Demian was gone.
Sinclair blinked rapidly, the memories fading as he returned to the present moment. He was still sitting alone by the graves of his family, his hand clutching the scarf around his neck, the one that was left by Demian before he just... disappeared into thin air. Tears streamed down his face unchecked now.
He stared at the night sky, his eyes searching for any sign of Demian. Any hint that he was still out there, watching over him. But all he saw were the stars twinkling back at him, indifferent to his pain.
He missed Demian... He missed him so much. He wished he was there for him now. So... so badly.
He wished Demian was there to hold him, to comfort him like he used to. To wipe away his tears with that gentle touch and soothing voice. He missed Demianās presence more than anything else in the world right now. He missed him so much it physically hurt. He wished he could send a message up to the sky, hoping Demian would appear like he always did before.
The night sky, the stars, always reminded him of Demian...
Of his warm smile, his gentle nature, his comforting presence. The stars reminded him of his eyes, shining brightly even in the darkness. The moon was like Demianās pale skin, glowing softly in the night. And the constellations... they were like Demianās smile, eternal and beautiful. It was like a piece of Demian was still up there, watching over him from among the stars. Sinclair often found himself staring up at the sky at night, wondering if Demian was looking down at him from up there, watching over him like he promised. It was stupid, he knew. Demian was gone.
But...
He could swear on his life that, sometimes, if he looked really closely, when the wind blew just right and the stars aligned perfectly, he could hear Demianās laughter echoing from somewhere beyond the sky. It was faint, barely audible over the rustling leaves and distant cricket chirps ā but it was there.
He heard it right now too.
Then, suddenly, he felt two cold arms wrap around him from behind.
Gentle, tender warmth that he remembered well enveloped him. Cold and yet so warm...
Sinclair froze completely, his breath catching in his throat.
He knew them. He knew them so very well. He knew these arms.
But that was impossible.
He was already gone.
At least, it should have been impossible.
And yet... The soft smell of soap, the familiar warmth... There was nobody else it could have been.
With trembling hands, Sinclair reached up to grasp them back, to confirm what his heart already knew. Before he knew it, tears fell as he blinked, blurring his vision, his gaze never leaving the starry sky.
He couldnāt bring himself to look back.
Not yet.
He was not ready yet.
He was almost afraid to breathe, afraid that this moment would shatter like glass if he so much as moved.
He held onto those arms, his heart pounding in his chest like a drum, praying desperately that this wasnāt just a cruel hallucination born from his grief-stricken mind.
Was it... really possible?
Was it really possible?
To hope again... That... Maybe. Maybe the impossible happened.
A miracle...
A small prayer he repeated every night.
āYou have waited so long alone... You did well... My Sinclair.ā
A familiar, gentle, soft voice pierced his ears.
A voice he thought heād never hear again.
A voice he heard in his sleep every night.
Like a melody only he could hear. He knew it like his own.
āBut itās okay now.ā
A gentle squeeze. A hug.
And in that moment, it was as if the fog was lifted.
āDemian...!!!ā
He couldnāt hold back himself anymore as he cried and faced him, his hands reaching out blindly onto anything - everything. Hugging him as tightly as he could. And through his tear-blurred vision, he saw it...
Those familiar deep blue eyes, shining with life like stars.
He was really there.
It was Demian.
āDemian... D-Demian!!ā he cried out, there was nothing else he could say or do as he buried his face into that gentle warm chest again.
He felt like a lost puppy finally finding its owner. He clung to Demianās shirt, he held onto him like he was drowning and Demian was his only lifeline. He cried uncontrollably, his body shaking. He cried until his voice was hoarse, until his throat ached, until his arms felt like they would break from holding onto him so tightly.
He was really there, he was really holding him, he was really alive.
He couldnāt believe it, he just couldnāt believe it.
After all these years, after all the pain, the suffering, the loneliness... Demian was finally back in his arms.
The nightmare was finally over. It was over.
āI-I thought... I-I thought y-you were dead! I... I... B-Because I-I... Iāā
āShh...ā Demian hushed him softly, his arms wrapped around him, holding him close as if he never intended to let go again. His hand gently stroked Sinclairās hair, soothing and comforting like they used to.
āIām home.ā
Sinclair whimpered like a broken child, hiccuping softly.
He couldnāt believe this was real.
He was terrified this was another dream, another cruel trick of his mind. He half-expected Demian to disappear like smoke in the next second.
It should have been impossible.
It should have been impossible.
It was a miracle.
And yet... It felt real.
With only their tears mingling together, with only their breaths combining into one...
This was reality.
It was real.
And he will never, ever let go. Not anymore.
āI-I love you.ā
The three words he had once thought he could never say to his face gently slipped out of Sinclairās mouth, as a soft pair of lips placed itself on his own.
āI love you too...ā
Was the only answer he got.
And it finally felt like...
Things were going to be okay.
That it will be alright now.
Because finally they were here.
Together.
A reunion of souls separated too long by darkness and despair.
The taste of Demianās lips was familiar yet somehow sweeter than memory allowed.
The kiss was gentle, soft, filled with tears and years of longing. It was a kiss that tasted like home, like comfort, like love. It was a kiss that promised a future together, that promised to heal the wounds of the past.
They kissed each other like they were starving men in the desert finally finding water.
And maybe they were, in a way. Starving for each otherās touch, for each otherās love. Their lips moved against one another with desperation, their hands clutching with reverent gentleness at each otherās clothes and hair as if to prove that this was real, that they were really together again.
They kissed like they were making up for every kiss they missed, every āI love youā left unsaid, every moment stolen by fate.
They kissed until they ran out of breath, until their tears dried up, until their lips were swollen and tender.
The two boys pulled away slowly, foreheads pressing together as they both gasped for air. Their lips were still parted slightly, their eyes locked onto each otherās faces with a mix of disbelief and overwhelming relief. Their eyes met, and in that moment, everything was said without words.
Demianās hands framed Sinclairās face gently, his thumbs wiping away any remaining tears, pressed soft, gentle kisses to each tear-stained cheek, his thumbs tracing Sinclairās jawline with a tenderness reserved only for the person youāve loved your entire life. All the while, Sinclairās hands clung to him desperately as he rested his head on his chest.
Demianās arms stayed wrapped around him, holding him tightly as if he was never going to let go. He rested his chin on Sinclairās head, burying his face in his hair, closing his eyes as he just... breathed him in.
His voice was hoarse with tears and years of silence when he finally spoke. āIām here,ā he whispered against Sinclairās hair. āIām really here. Iām not going anywhere.ā He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Sinclairās head, holding him close as if trying to convince himself that this was real. āIām here now... Iām home...ā
Sinclair cried softly into Demianās soft chest. He felt him breathe, he heard his heartbeat, his voice, despite his cold hands, he was just so... warm.
He was here.
āShhh...ā Demian whispered softly, his voice soothing as he held Sinclair tighter, his warmth enveloping him completely. āShhh, itās okay... Iām here. Iām real. Iām not going anywhere.ā He gently rubbed Sinclairās back in circular motions, trying to calm him down. He could feel Sinclairās tears soaking into his shirt, and he knew that he was finally letting go of all the pain and heartache that he had been holding onto for so long. His own tears wetted Sinclairās hair as he held him close, as close as it was humanely possible.
He was finally here, finally home, finally able to hold the one he loved in his arms again.
The two stayed like that for a while, without any words, only a gentle embrace and tears. The only sound was of their quiet sobs and sniffles. They didnāt know how long they stayed in that one position, but it felt like eternity all over again.
Eventually, the sobs subsided into soft hiccups, and Demian held Sinclair even closer, one hand gently stroking his hair. He pressed a kiss to the top of his head, feeling his warmth against himself and knowing that this was where they always were meant to be.
As the hiccups faded away and Sinclairās breathing slowly returned to normal, Demianās arms gently untangled themselves from Sinclair to gently tilt his head up, his fingers underneath his chin. Their eyes met ā Demianās filled with tears and love, Sinclairās red and puffy but shining with happiness and relief. Demian smiled softly as his thumbs brushed away the last of his tears as he studied his face intently, as if committing every detail to memory.
Sinclair felt tears fill his eyes once more at Demianās gesture, feeling emotional again. His hand reached Demianās, resting against it as he caressed his cheek.
āI... just donāt understand...ā Sinclairās small lips quivered a bit as he spoke. āI... I-I was sure of it... I remember t-that very moment... You... Y-You died...ā he croaked out.
āHow is it possible that... you are here? I-In my arms...ā he added, hugging Demian as close as he could while still keeping eye contact, as if he was trying to melt into him.
Demianās eyes softened, filled with a gentle understanding and deep sadness at the pain he had caused Sinclair by his death.
āDear Sinclair...ā he started, taking Sinclairās trembling hand in his own and holding it gently. āTruthfully, I myself would not be able to answer that...ā His eyes glanced over to Sinclairās hand, finding it hard to see it clearly in the dark. āAt that moment... I was sure that my fate was sealed. I knew that it was the end. And you delivered that end with your own two hands...ā
Sinclairās eyes darkened with guilt as he continued to listen, that moment flashing through his head all over again.
āI remember seeing the light fade, and the world going silent as I felt my life slipping away... I was sure, that I was dead. I dreamt about that day many times before, I knew this would be the way Iād die... And yet... I am here now.ā Demian paused, his thumb brushing over Sinclairās knuckles gently. āAnd... I know that it was not a miracle that ensured my survival. I know that the thread of life that holds mine had been severed...ā
āBut...ā
He gently tucked Sinclair's soft blonde hair behind his ear. āI came home.ā
āMy home, together by My Roseās side.ā
Demianās gentle words felt like a promise. Sinclairās cheeks reddened, his rose... He wasnāt sure what they meant, what he meant by āhomeā, what he meant by āhis roseā. But he knew one thing... Whatever happened, it felt right. This felt right. He was home.
But that gentle feeling of love was quickly replaced with the adminission of regret.
āI... I-Iām sorry that I did this to you...ā the blond said with a trembling voice. He felt so much guilt, he did something unforgiveable, even if it was necessary, even if he had no choice... He killed Demian, his only love, his friend and guide, someone he cared about so much. If not for this miracle, he wouldnāt see Demian ever again. He did it with his own hands.
He was afraid to see the beautiful eyes he loved so much, so he looked down with shame at his legs instead. āI-Iām so sorry...ā
Demianās heart ached at Sinclairās words, seeing the genuine remorse and pain etched on his beloved roseās face. Without hesitation, he gently lifted Sinclairās chin with his fingers again, forcing their eyes to meet despite Sinclairās attempt to avoid his gaze.
āI remember that last moment we shared... It was... truthfully scary.ā Demianās voice was gentle yet carried a slight edge of sadness, and his eyes were soft, gentle and full of love, with no hint of anger or resentment.
āKnowing that it was the end. That itās... my last moment. That you were the one to take my life... No matter how prepared I thought I was, nothing could have prepared me for it. It hurts but...ā he trailed off, watching Sinclairās expression carefully, before kissing his forehead gently. āBut the only thing I can think of... Is how proud was I of you, and still am. Sinclair... My rose who bloomed so beautifully... finally taking flight from your egg after breaking out of it. Thereās so many things I still wanted to say but...ā
āYou have grown so much since we last met, Sinclair.ā
His hand gently caresses Sinclairās face. Relieving him of the burden of guilt he had carried ever since that day, even if just a little.
Sinclair felt his tears fall as he gently rested his head in the crook of Demianās neck, taking a deep breath of his familiar soapy smell. There was nothing more he wanted to say, nothing more he could have said...
As he rested in Demianās arms, not crying, not sobbing, just resting against him and feeling his warmth...
It felt that it was finally okay after all...
Demian felt Sinclairās body relax completely against him, his tense muscles finally giving in to comfort and safety of his embrace. His heart swelled with love and relief knowing that he had finally given Sinclair the closure he needed all this time, even if it probably wasnāt enough to lift all his guilt.
He wrapped his arms around Sinclair, holding him close as he felt the gentle tears fall onto his neck. He kissed the side of the blondās head, breathing in the scent of his beloved rose, feeling a sense of peace wash over him that he hadnāt felt since that fateful day.
What Sinclair did, was truly unforgivable. To kill one you loved and trusted your whole life, to murder them, was to break that trust, break that love. That was a fact.
He knew there were things he did to Sinclair that were unforgivable as well, his inaction when Sinclair went through the worst days of his life...
But, even so, Sinclair deserved to be at peace with what he did, live a life where they could heal. Live his life without the constant guilt and pain of what he had done weighing him down... And, he himself deserved the same. They both deserved peace, love, healing.
Thatās what Demian believed at least.
āOh... your neck...ā
Sinclairās little voice interrupted Demianās thoughts.
Sinclair pulled away gently from the hug before he quickly removed the familiar blue scarf from his own neck. āY-Your scarf...ā
Demian blinked. He had been so caught up in the warmth and comfort of holding Sinclair that he hadnāt even noticed the familiar blue fabric wrapped around his belovedās pudgy neck.
āOh... You kept it safe for me all this time?ā Demian asked as he reached to touch the comforting soft fabric, looking pleasantly surprised.
āO-Of course...! It... it felt like it was important to you... I wanted to give it back,ā Sinclair blushed again. Gently, he lifted his hands and wrapped the warm and soft blue fabric around Demianās neck. Their eyes glanced at each other.
And as the scarf was placed perfectly on Demianās neck, it felt... right. Like it never left.
āThere...ā Sinclair smiled softly. āBack where it truly belongs. With you...ā he said, finally satisfied.
Demian reached up to touch the scarf gently, smiling softly, the scarf meant so much to him, and he was happy to have it back.
...It smelled like Sinclair... He must have worn it all these years he was gone.
He realized that no matter what happened between them, Sinclair was still the kindhearted, gentle person he knew all this time.
āThank you... Thank you so much, Sinclair,ā he whispered, before hugging Sinclair again, planting a loving kiss on his lips once more. Sinclair kissed him back, a little hesitant but full of love, still extremely shy and unused to the affection, but loving every second of it.
Once they pulled away, Sinclair looked at the sky, still blushing. āI-Itās getting very late... We should go... somewhere ... T-To spend the night, I guess...ā he said softly, not sure where they could go. He had no home, no one to help and take him in...
Sinclair, hesitantly, pulled away form the warm hug, to stand up, his body aching a little from sitting on the ground for so long. Demian attempted to follow Sinclair but immediately winced in pain as his legs protested. His face contorted with discomfort as he realized he couldnāt float in the air anymore... Something changed with his body, he was sure of it now, but he couldnāt figure out what.
Sinclair frowned, noticing Demianās expression. āD-Demian? Are you okay??ā he asked, reaching his hand out to him, feeling worried. āD-Do you need help..?ā
āIām fine... Donāt worry about it, dear Sinclair...ā Demian replied, his hand trembled slightly as he reached out to grasp Sinclairās, his usual grace and strength completely gone.
As Sinclair helped him up, Demian leaned heavily on him, his legs trembling and refusing to support his weight properly. āIām fine... Just a bit sore from sitting for too long,ā he lied.
Sinclair continued frowning as he held Demian tight, he could clearly see that Demian was in pain and couldnāt stand upright. A sudden bad thought came across his mind.
āDid I... Did I do this to you..? I... I-Iām so sorry...ā he said, his voice full of remorse.
āOh, no... No, love, donāt even think that...ā Demian quickly reassured, using what little strength he had left to turn his head and look at Sinclair with gentle eyes. āThis has nothing to do with you and my death... My legs... Theyāve always been like this. Since I was born,ā he admitted softly. He tried to smile reassuringly but it was hard when he was in pain. āI... usually floated so it wouldnāt hurt, but...ā
āOh...ā Sinclairās eyes softened, immediately understanding what Demian meant. āYou... canāt anymore..? A-Are you sure youāre okay..??ā
āI-I think so... Itās just... My body forgot how to walk properly, thatās all...ā Demian tried to explain, feeling shame for showing weakness. He tried to take a cautious step but immediately stumbled into Sinclairās arms. His legs felt weak and unfamiliar, like they had forgotten how to function properly without his powers. āAh... It has been so long since I had to use them... My body feels different somehow...ā He leaned even heavier on Sinclair.
āOh, Demian...ā Sinclair murmured, his voice almost pitiful. āS-Slow down... I-I will help you, okay..? Letās just... go somewhere else...ā he said softly as he took his bag and walked with Demian outside the ruins of his old mansion. He held Demian gently, helping him take small steps.
āThank you, Sinclair...ā Demian whispered, feeling incredibly vulnerable but also grateful for Sinclairās gentle support. His arm wrapped around Sinclairās shoulders for balance as they walked slowly through the ruins. The pain in his legs was manageable for now, but the unfamiliar feeling of walking on solid ground after so long was disorienting, each step was painful and awkward... But having Sinclair by his side made it bearable.
āI canāt even remember the last time I walked...ā he said, he was used to floating everywhere, never having to walk or use his legs properly.
āI-Itās okay, Demian...ā Sinclair said reassuringly. Demian was surprisingly light in his arms, like he barely weighed anything. āI know itās probably hard for you, but... It will get easier...ā he added, hoping his words were enough.
āI hope so...ā Demian murmured, leaning his weight more into Sinclairās side as they continued walking. He appreciated Sinclairās gentle words and support more than anything right now. His legs were trembling slightly with each step, but he was determined to keep going. He didnāt want to burden Sinclair more than necessary.
Eventually, the two exited the ruins of the mansion and reached the empty streets. Sinclair placed his bag on the ground on the sidewalk and continued walking with Demian until they were in the middle of the street. He knew no car would go through this place at this hour... They could practice walking with no interruption.
Sinclair took both of Demianās hands in his own, and stood in front of him, before he spoke. āI-Itās not that hard... Just... Look at my feet and follow along... Okay...?ā
Demian nodded as he lowered his gaze to Sinclairās feet. Listening to him gently instructing him as he held on to Sinclairās hand, still unused to the sensation of gravity finally affecting his body after floating for so long.
āJust focus on me... So... left foot... take a step... and... now. Right foot. Take a step...ā
Sinclair gently took a step back every time Demian managed to take a step forward. He held on tight to make sure Demian wouldnāt fall, even if his steps were shaky.
Demian focused on Sinclairās words and movements, carefully placing his left foot forward and then his right, trying his best to mimic Sinclairās gentle steps. His movements were clumsy and uncoordinated at first, his legs shaking with each step he took. But Sinclairās patient guidance and steady hands holding his own helped him stay upright.
āItās okay... itās okay. If you fall... I will catch you...ā Sinclair said, his reassuring voice making Demianās heart flutter. It felt like everything will be okay.
āStep by Step... one at a time, okay?ā
āOf course... I think... I am slowly getting the hang of this...ā Demian said, his eyes never leaving their steps. He took another step forward, then another, his body slowly remembering how to walk. But his legs felt like jelly after being unused for so long.
āItās... Itās starting to feel natural again...ā Demian said, his smile widening. He took longer steps now, his body slowly getting used to the sensation of walking. He looked up at Sinclair, his eyes shining with happiness and pure love.
Sinclair smiled back at him, his cheeks dusted pink and his hands squeezing Demianās without realizing.
Their hand intertwined. With Demian following Sinclairās lead, slowly, but surely, the lessons became more about them than walking.
They both couldnāt stop smiling as they walked together, hand in hand. Sinclair was teaching Demian more than just how to walk... With each step, he felt more connected to the earth beneath his feet and to Sinclair beside him.
Eventually, Demian had enough balance to stop holding Sinclairās hand for a moment, just to place it on his waist. Sinclair blushed and, almost like on instinct, placed his hand on Demianās shoulder, their eyes locking again.
Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. They switched position.
Left. Right. Left. Right. A spin in their step.
Left. Right. A hop on their heels.
A twirl.
A giggle.
Gentle giggles echoed through the empty streets of Calw, with only the soft glow of the street lamps and moonlight hanging over them.
Before they knew it, they were already dancing.
Demian spun Sinclair around once more before pulling him close again. His movements were a bit clumsy still, but Sinclair guided him perfectly, their bodies pressing together with each spin and twirl.
There was no beat or rhyme to their steps, but it didnāt matter. What truly mattered were the wide smiles on their faces as they danced.
Their waltz continued on for what felt like a blissful eternity.
Wonderful, lovely moments of eternity.
Demian felt a warmth spread through his chest that had nothing to do with the physical exertion. It was Sinclairās smile, his laughter, the way their hands fit together perfectly ā it was everything he never knew he needed. In that moment, walking became secondary.
They were finally together, as lovers, as one, after so many years of yearning and pinning...
The dance went on until they were both breathless, laughter filling the air between them. From a waltz of love, it turned into slow steps and a lingering hug.
Demian rested his forehead against Sinclairās as they swayed gently to no rhythm at all. Their hearts were racing from the unexpected dance and the overwhelming happiness of this moment.
āSinclair...ā Demian started, closing his eyes. āYou... You make this so easy...ā He tightened his arms around Sinclairās waist. āWalking, dancing... Like it was never gone...ā He nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck.
Sinclair held Demian tight, not letting go for even a moment. āIām just... so happy...ā he murmured, his smile fading away slightly. āIām... I-Iām almost scared itās a dream... I still canāt believe youāre here...ā
Demian pulled back slightly to look into Sinclairās eyes, seeing the reflection of the moonlight and his own happiness and worry mirroring back at him. āItās not a dream,ā he whispered softly, his thumbs gently caressing his cheek. āIām really here, and Iām not going anywhere...ā
Just hearing this, the words he wanted to hear ever since Demian left for the first time, Sinclair wanted to cry again. He hugged him tight, as tightly as he could, with all his strength.
āI-I love you so much...ā
āI love you too,ā Demian whispered back, burying his face in Sinclairās neck and just holding him close. āMore than anything...ā
They stood like this for several minutes, just holding each other tightly under the night sky, two lovers finally reunited after years apart.
Their embrace felt like it could last forever, like the universe itself was holding its breath to see them reunited.
Eventually, Demian pulled back just enough to press a soft, gentle kiss to Sinclairās lips. A lingering kiss that tasted like tears and joy all at once... A kiss filled with years of longing, a kiss that spoke volumes without saying a single word. Sinclair kissed him back, this time with no hesitation, now that they had all the time in the world, he couldnāt stop kissing him. Demianās lips were so warm and soft, just like in his dreams. Now that there was no more tears, no more panic, he could really focus on Demianās gentle lips.
This time, the kiss was slow and sweet, lasting for several minutes as they reconnected in the simplest yet most profound way. Their lips moved gently against one another, tasting, memorizing, cherishing every moment. No rushing, no desperation ā just pure, unadulterated love.
After a while, Demian pulled back gently, his fingers brushing against Sinclairās lips as he kept his eyes closed, as if trying to memorize how his lips felt so he could imagine them pressed against his own any time he wanted.
Sinclair opened his eyes, his breath a little faster than before. But as he looked down at their legs, he saw Demianās shaking again, probably from exhaustion and standing too long.
āL-Letās sit down...ā he said softly. āI donāt want you to fall...ā
āI donāt want to stop holding you...ā Demian protested gently, but his legs were honestly starting to feel like jelly. All the walking and dancing and kissing had taken more out of him than he expected.
āY-You donāt have to stop holding me...ā Sinclair replied, blushing. He gently led Demian back to the gates of the mansion ruins, where he left his bag.
They sat on the soft grass together, Demianās arms still wrapped around Sinclairās as he pulled his phone out of his bag and turned it on. As Sinclair fiddled with his phone, Demian rested his head on his shoulder, feeling utterly content despite his shaky legs. He watched Sinclairās profile in the glow of the phone screen, still hardly believing this was real life and not some beautiful dream.
āItās 1 AM...ā Sinclair murmured, he sounded worried. The fear of what to do came back to him fast, he was homeless and had no one... At least Demian was by his side now, so he wasnāt alone, but he was still... scared.
Demian nodded, looking at the time and then back at Sinclair. āIt feels like weāve been up for hours,ā he started softly, his hand resting on Sinclairās that was left on the ground. āBut it also feels like weāve only just started catching up... We should go to sleep soon.ā
āB-But how..?? Where...ā Sinclair asked as he looked back at Demian. āMy home is burned... I-I donāt have any family that I didnāt lose back then... What are we going to do, Demian..?ā he asked desperately, his eyes filling with tears once more. āC-Can we even get to a hotel at this hour...? I donāt know... I donāt know, I n-never had to do any of this stuff, Iām not ready to live alone...ā he panicked, burying his face in his hands, feeling hopeless.
Demian watched Sinclairās breakdown silently, his heart aching. He knew Sinclair had been sheltered and protected all his life, he was thrown into this world alone, with no guidance, no parents, no family... Despite his experience at Limbus Company, despite being in his 20s, it was like he was still a kid trying to be an adult. He had no idea how to handle adult life without his parentsā¦ Demian knew that feeling too well. He pulled him closer gently, rubbing his back soothingly.
āShh... Shhh...ā he murmured as he felt Sinclair wrap his arms around him. āWe will figure it out, okay? For tonight, we can stay at my place... Itās not far from here, and I have plenty of room.ā
Sinclairās cheeks reddened at the offer. He gently pulled away from Demian to look into his eyes, his eyes wet from tears.
āStay... at your place..?ā he asked. āWould you really let me...?ā
āOf course,ā Demian replied softly, cupping Sinclairās cheek gently. āYou can stay with me tonight... And tomorrow night... And every night after that until we figure something out.ā He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Sinclairās forehead.
āO-Oh... Demian...ā Sinclair rested his head against his chest, tears spilling from his eyes. āYouāre too kind...ā he sobbed, he felt so grateful, he couldnāt believe this was happening.
āShhh... Itās okay... Youāre crying again... Youāve cried so much today, your eyes must be sore,ā Demian whispered, wrapping his arms around Sinclair tightly. He held him close, one hand stroking his hair gently while the other rubbed soothing circles on his back. āIām glad youāre here with me,ā he murmured. He felt a warmth spread through him at Sinclairās words and tears. It was strange how easily this man could make him feel needed and wanted. He kissed the top of Sinclairās head again.
āLetās go home.ā
āHome...ā Sinclair whispered in a trembling voice, the word ringing familiarly in his head. Something about Demianās offer made his heart stir. āO-Okay...ā he took a deep breath and pulled away reluctantly, looking into Demianās eyes again as he felt Demian hold his hand. āW-Where do you live..? Maybe we can still catch a train... W-We need to hurry...ā
āI live in the next town over... About a two-hour train ride from here,ā Demian explained, standing up and gently pulling Sinclair to his feet, his own legs still trembling. āI donāt know if we can catch a train at this hour... but... Thatās our only choice.ā
Sinclair nodded, wiping his tears away. He looked worriedly at Demianās legs, really hoping he can withstand the last few steps to the train station.
He squeezed his hand tight. āL-Letās go, okay..? I still remember where the train station is...ā he said, his voice still sad but a bit more determined.
Demian squeezed Sinclairās hand back reassuringly and nodded. āAlright, lead the way.ā
As the blond helped Demian walk through the empty roads of Calw towards the station, he couldnāt help but notice how much Demian grimaced, how shaky his steps were. He could only frown as he tried his best to support him.
āJust a little more... I-Itās okay, Demian,ā he whispered softly. He knew that it was a lot for Demian, but they had to hurry. It was at least something good that by how late it was, the streets were so empty, giving them a straight line to the station, āI-Iām sorry we have to hurry like this... Itās so late...ā
āItās alright, Sinclair...ā Demian managed to say. He leaned heavily on Sinclair, his legs were feeling like jelly, and every step was a struggle. The exhaustion was slowly catching up to him. āI know you are worried for me but,ā Demian glanced up to the sky, stopping for a moment. āThere is a silver lining in the clouds. It might be late. But...ā
Sinclair finally took his eyes off Demian, following his gaze and looking up the night sky with him.
The vast expanse of space, splayed out so brightly and beautifully just above them. Stars gleaming up there, with the moon by their side... with its shine gently accompanying it to brighten the lonely empty streets of Calw.
Last time he looked at the sky, Demian wasnāt by his side, he felt alone, scared, hopeless. It was mere moments ago, where he was looking at the same sky... But now with Demian by his side, knowing what to do, where to go... The night sky brought a strange comfort to his heart.
āOh...ā Sinclair took a sharp breath as he realized he never really got out of his home so late back when he lived there. Those were his first times seeing how beautiful the sky of Calw was at night.
āItās... beautiful...ā the words flowed as if they just slipped out of his mouth.
Demian watched Sinclairās expression softly. He saw the tension slowly leaving his shoulders. He watched how his eyes widened slightly, taking in the night sky. He was looked beautiful, the moonlight illuminated his features, highlighting his pale skin, his rosy cheeks, his soft lips... Demian felt his heart flutter.
He gently squeezed Sinclairās hand as he spoke. āThere are things that you would have missed if you only focused on the bad, little Sinclair.ā He smiled, enjoying the cold night breeze alongside his beloved. āWe can only ever see this sight when itās so late out, canāt we?ā
ā... Youāre right, Demian...ā Sinclair gently smiled, looking back at Demian as they continued walking, a little slower now. āThere are still so many things that I would have never known without you.ā
āAnd there are many more things I want to show you, Sinclair,ā Demianās voice was soft and sincere. He looked at Sinclair with a warmth that made the cold night feel somewhat cozy. āThe world is full of beautiful things, and I wanted to share them all with you... Yet we had so little time,ā he said softly, before continuing. āBut thatās alright. Now, we will have the rest of our lives together to see them all.ā
Their voices carried far, without any other noise to pierce through the silent night. Only their footsteps followed along with their happiness.
Without realizing it, they already arrived at the train station, the artificial light from the lamps feeling so lonely compared to all of the stars just outside.
Walking right up to the platform, a train with its door open was already there, waiting. An automatic voice spoken from a speaker declared that the last train will be departing soon.
āOh... I-Iām so glad, we made it just before the last train left,ā Sinclair breathed a sigh of relief, stepping into the carriage, right before helping Demian board the train.
The two were finally able to catch their breaths. There was no more need to rush.
The carriage was completely empty, they were the only passages, which wasnāt a surprise at all... Not many would ride trains so late at night.
They took the seats closest to the door, still holding hands. Sinclair sighed softly and leaned back against the seat, and as the last warning blared for people to step away from the moving doors, the blond boy looked out the window.
Calw, where he was born and raised... Now, leaving it, together with the one he loves the most...
āNow leaving... Destination...ā
Sinclair couldnāt care less about the announcement as his eyes stayed on the window. The sight of Calw, leaving and moving away, getting smaller and smaller as the train carried them to their new home.
His heart started to beat faster.
His old home... now becoming a distant memory. He felt a mix of sadness and relief. He was leaving everything behind... his past, his old life... and stepping into an uncertain future with Demian.
He couldnāt help but wave his hand. As if waiting for someone to wave back. And perhaps... For a second, he felt like it would be okay.
āSee you later...ā Sinclair murmured under his breath, his voice cracking slightly, muttering a farewell for someone not there anymore. He watched as the city lights blurred away into the darkness until they were completely out of sight.
The train ride will be long.
It wasnāt warp train, after all, there would be plenty of time before they would even be close to the town Demian lived in.
He felt a squeeze on his hand. He turned to find himself face to face with Demianās beautifully handsome face.
āSinclair...ā Demianās voice was soft and gentle, almost like a whisper in the night. āI know this is all happening so fast, but...ā he started, his thumb gently caressing Sinclairās hand as he held it. āEverything will be alright,ā he promised softly, squeezing Sinclairās hand reassuringly. āBecause we are together now... I wonāt let anything bad happen to you ever again.ā
Sinclair nodded, taking a deep breath. He gently leaned to Demian as the train jolted and trudged along the lines of the railway. Hearing Demian say he wonāt let anything bad to happen... was enough to put him at ease.
Demian gently wrapped his arms around Sinclair, pulling him closer as the train continued its journey. He rested his head on top of Sinclairās, looking out the window with him, as he held onto his beloved tightly. He could feel Sinclairās warm breath against his shirt, his small body still shaking slightly with exhaustion and emotion.
The scenery outside was dark and unfamiliar, a dark road through a thick forest, a stark contrast to the familiar streets of Calw they had just left behind.
The thick trees, the dark roads, the occasional small towns flashing by their windows... everything was new. Everything was different. And yet, with Demian by his side, holding him tightly... It didnāt feel scary.
There was a quiet, comfortable silence as they just enjoyed finally being able to have some rest, especially Demian, being able to sit down and rest his legs without worry.
ā... What kind of place... do you live in, Demian?ā Sinclair asked, still looking out the window.
Demian smiled softly at Sinclairās question, his voice gentle against his hair. āOh, I live in a small house, actually... Just outside of town,ā he explained quietly, his voice soothing in the empty carriage. He gently nuzzled against Sinclair. āIām sure you will love it...ā
āOh... Is it going to be different from Calw?ā he asked again. Calw is a forest town, and the thought of living away from nature somewhat pained Sinclair, but at the same time he didnāt care as long as Demian was by his side.
āNot really,ā Demian replied softly, his arms tightening slightly around Sinclair. āMy home is surrounded by a forest... Itās just a little quieter than Calw, since itās outside of the town,ā he explained gently, wanting to ease Sinclairās worries. āThere is a small river nearby too, itās quite beautiful... The soil is perfect for gardening, so I have a small garden there. Itās full of flowers...ā
Sinclairās eyes lighted up a little. āA garden? You never told me you liked gardening, Demian...ā he said softly, quite surprised.
Demian chuckled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to Sinclairās hair. āWell, there were many things I didnāt get to tell you,ā he admitted quietly. His fingers played absently with Sinclairās sweater hem as the train continued its journey through the night. āI find gardening relaxing... Caring for another living being is nice... I grow all sorts of flowers.ā
āThat sounds really nice...ā Sinclair murmured, his voice filled with genuine interest and admiration. He could already imagine Demian tending to his flowers, his hands gentle and caring as he nurtured life from the soil. It painted a peaceful picture in Sinclairās mind, one that felt comforting and warm.
He leaned into Demianās touch, feeling safe and happy. āDo you have any favorites?ā He asked curiously.
Demian voice seemed to slowly drift away as Sinclair closed his eyes. The day was long, and a lot of things happened.
It felt almost overwhelming, with how many emotions he felt. How much tears he shed. But...
He smiled.
He doesnāt know what awaits them in the future. He doesnāt know if there will even be a future for them in the City.
But... They will be together.
Demian felt a weak squeeze from Sinclairās hand. He placed a small kiss on top of his hair.
The quietness and the gentle swaying of the train started to put Sinclair to sleep. He felt so comfortable against Demianās chest, feeling the warmth of the other boyās arms around him. Soon enough, his eyes began to droop, and his breathing started to slow down.
He was lulled to sleep, as his tired body finally gave up, exhausted from everything that happened. He fell asleep on Demianās chest, his small hands clutching onto his shirt as he rested his head comfortably against his shoulder.
Demian felt Sinclairās body relax against him, his breathing evening out into a soft sleep rhythm. A tender smile spread across his face as he looked down at the sleeping boy in his arms. He gently adjusted Sinclairās position to be more comfortable, gently stroking his hair as he decided not to wake him.
There were so many things to do, to discuss, to think about... There is so many things they will experience, will have.
But for now, Demian just wanted to savor this moment.
A moment so peaceful. So full of love in the silence. Only followed by train chugging through its track, only followed by soft breaths.
In this moment, all the chaos and uncertainty of their future melted away. All that existed was this ā Sinclair in his arms and the love filling his heart.
And for a moment, he thought, that maybe...
There is a gentler future in this unforgiving world.