𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄.

𝑼𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑭𝒊𝒍𝒕𝒉 𝑮𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆

____________

...

Unwell you woke up, the metallic taste of blood vivid against your tongue and a light sore in between your legs, making you reminisce about the night before.

Still, you remained drowsy, not wanting to leave the embrace of rough antique covers or the warmth of two boney arms around your waist. Even with the smell of rotting human flesh still stinging your senses, your heart swelled up with warmth as Ruben pulled you closer to him, your back flush against his chest; cold and completely still, never breathing.

Alive. But barely.

Your hand snaked towards his to intertwine his fingers with his. The leather like caress of some spots in his skin made it quite comforting; it was unmistakably Ruben, his and only his damaged skin against yours, and you needed nothing else.

This was the most peace you've felt in a while. You felt warm, loved -oh so loved - and almost happy. The thought of the house that awaited you outside of the STEM world seemed so empty, sterile, alone compared to waking up in the arms of the one you loved. But still, a house awaited you, and with her awaited many other things and people, people you wanted to see and hold once again, and the realization alone made you think you couldn't stay here forever, as ideal as it seemed.

With the house awaited many problems too. You saw Beacon crumble before your very eyes, which meant you needed to find another job to feed yourself, a job that could open the door to continuing your research in the future. And that meant a whole lot of new risks in and of itself. The things you were working on were not exactly legal; defying death and playing God was an endeavor more than just frowned upon. It was a crime that you needed to skillfully hide while trying to make progress. You had gotten away with it one time, quickly framing someone who was there wrong place wrong time. McLain Private Clinic was a corrupt place with a happy and pristine facade that couldn't manage having any scandals, so they just swept everything under the rug by burning your notes and firing both Dr. Adam and you, and even then, they had to close down months later to avoid an investigation. Next time, you wouldn't be so lucky...

...

Ruben's finger traced against the scar in your hand -well healed, short and wide,- the one you got the earliest days of working at Beacon, the same one he bandaged himself in his own office. Those days seemed so far gone.

Him... he had not slept. He didn't need to. His body on the outside was no more, Ruben was now solely the mind behind the scarce stability of the world of STEM. He could not rest any longer. Instead, he watched and held this entire dimension on his now weary shoulders.

It had been way too long since he had felt human. Today was one of those times.

And as the mind behind this world, he sensed the turmoil that had taken over your thoughts, and it affected him, too. The peace of a bright morning was broken by his low, chilling monotone; "Something's eating at you."

You chuckled, amused. It was obvious he would ask. It was obvious he would feel it. You opened your mouth with hesitance; "We shouldn't stay here forever," and your voice sounded meek, almost scared to say those words like you didn't want them to be true. Neither did he.