Just keep breathing.
((Set years into the future.))
The fantastic talent that Kitt had for taking him to Nowhere, USA was one that Andrew cherished. Sometimes, that was exactly what he needed, and now was one of those times. He stared out over the wooded valley in front of him, his feet dangling off the side of a limestone cliff, and he thought. His dad was healing. He knew Kitt was healing, too - knew that Kitt needed this time "alone" as much as he did. They'd all cared about Mike. The jackass who'd killed him was damned lucky he was in a freezer now instead of dead. Andrew remembered snapping the cuffs around his wrists, intentionally fastening them too tight. He'd not had a chance, between Andrew and his dad working the case.
Andrew's knuckles had been bloody for days afterward. They still were, beneath the tape that had been put on for protection. Reminded, he looked down at his hands, at the white bands around his hands. He thought, for a second, about keeping them on forever. But he knew better. That was exactly what Mike wouldn't want. It was probably bad enough that they'd remember him forever, all of them. Mike was one of those people that wanted to be transient. He'd left a mark on all of them, though.
Maybe a tattoo, he mused. He had his armbands, and the circuitboard under his hair. And he remembered Mike's tats. Sun, moon, and star. Maybe he could make something of all three and put it somewhere inconspicuous. He snorted at the thought. Was there such a thing as an actually-inconspicuous tattoo?
When the hand touched his shoulder, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Kitt should've told him if someone was nearby and the fact that he'd been caught off-guard was reason enough for him to chide himself about being too far into his own thoughts. The man who stood over him was broad-shouldered, dark-haired, tall. And he was silent. Andrew glanced behind him to where Kitt had been parked and realised that the Mustang wasn't there. Kitt had silent mode, sure, all of the cars did, but even he couldn't keep his tires silent on gravel.
His stomach clenched for a moment as he looked into the stranger's eyes, now suspecting that this wasn't a stranger at all. He stood from the rock and looked into dark brown eyes, trying to find a scrap of recognition. What he got in return was a nod.
"Oh, hell, Kitt..." he murmured, and then he and his best friend were clutching each other tight, trying and failing to hold back tears. Andrew buried his fingers into Kitt's hair, thoughts racing through his mind. It had taken Mike's death to get Kitt to change forms. But Kitt had changed, Kitt had come to him, Kitt was mourning. But both of them were.
The one thing that he knew for certain was that right then, Kitt needed him. And while he'd not been able to be there for his dad, his mom, or Mike, he would sooner die than not be there for Kitt. His arms tightened around Kitt, clutching him while both of them cried. There were no sobs, no sounds. Just hot tears that soaked into the fabric over their shoulders.
Shadows from the cliff's higher edge crept over them as the sun moved through the sky and Andrew's eyes ached when both of them started to move, their breathing steady instead of hitching.
"I am sorry," Kitt said, standing at arm's length, but Andrew shook his head and grabbed his elbow.
"Hell no. Hell fucking no, Kitt, you don't have a damn thing to apologise for." Keeping hold of Kitt's elbow, he drew Kitt over to the cliff's edge and pulled him to sit down at his side. It was a gesture of trust in a way, and it was a way Andrew knew Kitt would get. He was trusting Kitt to sit there and not do anything drastic. He was trusting Kitt to stay with him. "You've been here for years. You know as well as I do that you're allowed to feel however you feel, and right now, we've lost someone that meant a hell of a lot to both of us. Your first partner, my second dad. We are fuckin' allowed to hurt."
Kitt was silent, but that was exactly what Andrew expected. He kept his arm around Kitt's shoulders, kept Kitt pulled against him. As long as he could feel the curve of Kitt's shoulder under his hand and against his side, he'd be fine, he decided. But it was him who moved first.
So damn natural, he thought with his head leaned against Kitt's. So damn natural to be in contact with him, to be touching him, whether it was Mustang or skin. This was his best friend since he was thirteen, the person he'd told the truth to, and the person he'd heard the truth from. Both of them knew what it was to doubt. To be afraid that rage was just one step away. Mighty hell, Andrew thought, but I love him.
Heart-in-his-throat love. It hit him like a ton of bricks, sitting there on the cliff's edge with tears threatening in his eyes. His hand slid up from Kitt's shoulder to wind into his hair. He'd just lost Mike. Both of them had, but thank God they still had each other.
"Y'know this is forever," Andrew murmured. "We're immortal. It's how we work. We're not gonna die. And I'm never, fuckin' ever, going to walk away from you. I've been beside you since I was thirteen. You taught me to drive. You taught me this damn job. You've been my best friend since I met you. I'm not leavin' you."
The words he heard were not words that Andrew ever expected to hear out of Kitt, but when he looked into Kitt's eyes, he couldn't help but see the truth in them. "Do you promise?"
"On my life."
Impulse took him and he pulled Kitt closer, tilting his head just so. It was the second time he'd ever wanted to kiss someone, second person he ever kissed, but the second their lips touched, it was like fire. He was breathless and he knew that right then, right there, was the moment he'd been waiting for. Born fully conscious, older than his age, and he'd thought the whole time this was impossible.
His fingers were in Kitt's hair, hand clutching Kitt's shoulder, and when he could breathe again, open his eyes again, he could only see the sandy waves of Kitt's hair and the sky above them both. Kitt was on top of him, and limestone was under his back.
"I love you," Kitt said, his voice soft and honest.
With a chuckle, Andrew skimmed his thumb over Kitt's temple. "Love you, too, hot stuff."
"Forever."
"An' a few more days after that," he nodded. "I swear."
It didn't end the hurt. It wouldn't end the hurt. As Kitt settled beside him, his head on Andrew's shoulder, Andrew held him close and stared up at a slowly-darkening sky. There was still a hole where someone important used to be. But he had someone to share the hurt with and depend on and, maybe more importantly, to be dependable for. They had more reason to keep going. And that was reason enough.
The fantastic talent that Kitt had for taking him to Nowhere, USA was one that Andrew cherished. Sometimes, that was exactly what he needed, and now was one of those times. He stared out over the wooded valley in front of him, his feet dangling off the side of a limestone cliff, and he thought. His dad was healing. He knew Kitt was healing, too - knew that Kitt needed this time "alone" as much as he did. They'd all cared about Mike. The jackass who'd killed him was damned lucky he was in a freezer now instead of dead. Andrew remembered snapping the cuffs around his wrists, intentionally fastening them too tight. He'd not had a chance, between Andrew and his dad working the case.
Andrew's knuckles had been bloody for days afterward. They still were, beneath the tape that had been put on for protection. Reminded, he looked down at his hands, at the white bands around his hands. He thought, for a second, about keeping them on forever. But he knew better. That was exactly what Mike wouldn't want. It was probably bad enough that they'd remember him forever, all of them. Mike was one of those people that wanted to be transient. He'd left a mark on all of them, though.
Maybe a tattoo, he mused. He had his armbands, and the circuitboard under his hair. And he remembered Mike's tats. Sun, moon, and star. Maybe he could make something of all three and put it somewhere inconspicuous. He snorted at the thought. Was there such a thing as an actually-inconspicuous tattoo?
When the hand touched his shoulder, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Kitt should've told him if someone was nearby and the fact that he'd been caught off-guard was reason enough for him to chide himself about being too far into his own thoughts. The man who stood over him was broad-shouldered, dark-haired, tall. And he was silent. Andrew glanced behind him to where Kitt had been parked and realised that the Mustang wasn't there. Kitt had silent mode, sure, all of the cars did, but even he couldn't keep his tires silent on gravel.
His stomach clenched for a moment as he looked into the stranger's eyes, now suspecting that this wasn't a stranger at all. He stood from the rock and looked into dark brown eyes, trying to find a scrap of recognition. What he got in return was a nod.
"Oh, hell, Kitt..." he murmured, and then he and his best friend were clutching each other tight, trying and failing to hold back tears. Andrew buried his fingers into Kitt's hair, thoughts racing through his mind. It had taken Mike's death to get Kitt to change forms. But Kitt had changed, Kitt had come to him, Kitt was mourning. But both of them were.
The one thing that he knew for certain was that right then, Kitt needed him. And while he'd not been able to be there for his dad, his mom, or Mike, he would sooner die than not be there for Kitt. His arms tightened around Kitt, clutching him while both of them cried. There were no sobs, no sounds. Just hot tears that soaked into the fabric over their shoulders.
Shadows from the cliff's higher edge crept over them as the sun moved through the sky and Andrew's eyes ached when both of them started to move, their breathing steady instead of hitching.
"I am sorry," Kitt said, standing at arm's length, but Andrew shook his head and grabbed his elbow.
"Hell no. Hell fucking no, Kitt, you don't have a damn thing to apologise for." Keeping hold of Kitt's elbow, he drew Kitt over to the cliff's edge and pulled him to sit down at his side. It was a gesture of trust in a way, and it was a way Andrew knew Kitt would get. He was trusting Kitt to sit there and not do anything drastic. He was trusting Kitt to stay with him. "You've been here for years. You know as well as I do that you're allowed to feel however you feel, and right now, we've lost someone that meant a hell of a lot to both of us. Your first partner, my second dad. We are fuckin' allowed to hurt."
Kitt was silent, but that was exactly what Andrew expected. He kept his arm around Kitt's shoulders, kept Kitt pulled against him. As long as he could feel the curve of Kitt's shoulder under his hand and against his side, he'd be fine, he decided. But it was him who moved first.
So damn natural, he thought with his head leaned against Kitt's. So damn natural to be in contact with him, to be touching him, whether it was Mustang or skin. This was his best friend since he was thirteen, the person he'd told the truth to, and the person he'd heard the truth from. Both of them knew what it was to doubt. To be afraid that rage was just one step away. Mighty hell, Andrew thought, but I love him.
Heart-in-his-throat love. It hit him like a ton of bricks, sitting there on the cliff's edge with tears threatening in his eyes. His hand slid up from Kitt's shoulder to wind into his hair. He'd just lost Mike. Both of them had, but thank God they still had each other.
"Y'know this is forever," Andrew murmured. "We're immortal. It's how we work. We're not gonna die. And I'm never, fuckin' ever, going to walk away from you. I've been beside you since I was thirteen. You taught me to drive. You taught me this damn job. You've been my best friend since I met you. I'm not leavin' you."
The words he heard were not words that Andrew ever expected to hear out of Kitt, but when he looked into Kitt's eyes, he couldn't help but see the truth in them. "Do you promise?"
"On my life."
Impulse took him and he pulled Kitt closer, tilting his head just so. It was the second time he'd ever wanted to kiss someone, second person he ever kissed, but the second their lips touched, it was like fire. He was breathless and he knew that right then, right there, was the moment he'd been waiting for. Born fully conscious, older than his age, and he'd thought the whole time this was impossible.
His fingers were in Kitt's hair, hand clutching Kitt's shoulder, and when he could breathe again, open his eyes again, he could only see the sandy waves of Kitt's hair and the sky above them both. Kitt was on top of him, and limestone was under his back.
"I love you," Kitt said, his voice soft and honest.
With a chuckle, Andrew skimmed his thumb over Kitt's temple. "Love you, too, hot stuff."
"Forever."
"An' a few more days after that," he nodded. "I swear."
It didn't end the hurt. It wouldn't end the hurt. As Kitt settled beside him, his head on Andrew's shoulder, Andrew held him close and stared up at a slowly-darkening sky. There was still a hole where someone important used to be. But he had someone to share the hurt with and depend on and, maybe more importantly, to be dependable for. They had more reason to keep going. And that was reason enough.