This is a crossover fanfiction of my
The Meeting of Breccan & Finbar and
n3m3sis43's
Cliffton universes. For context, it might help to read
n3m3sis43's piece,
Everything You Touch.
Chapter 1,
Chapter 2,
Chapter 3,
Chapter 4,
Chapter 5,
Chapter 6,
Chapter 7,
Chapter 8 ---------
A few days later, we're fucking out here again. Training with Maris. I think everyone's too afraid of her to refuse. Think they're too afraid of me. They all give me more fucking looks, like I might kill any one of them at any moment. Won't fucking do that, though. Never using my powers, again. Fucking never.
“Kalen, your form is lazy. You're not trying!” Maris holds up her arms in a fighting form. It looks nothing like Kalen's sloppy pose. “Like this. Everyone else has got it. Even Wes.”
“I am trying,” he whines. This guy was an early draft pick for a fucking fighting squad? I don't see it.
Calla snickers. “Would hate to see how bad you look when you're not trying, then.”
Maris asks, “You're really trying, Kalen?” She's got a funny look on her face. I wouldn't fucking cross her right now if I were him.
“I am,” he says.
She stands in front of him. And fucking punches him in the gut. “If you were trying, you could have blocked that.”
Kalen doubles over. Fucking winded. Calla's doubled over, too. With laughter.
When Kalen recovers, he's not fucking happy. “What is wrong with everybody here?”
Can't fucking answer that, dude. Would take too long. So many things are wrong with me. And Maris has had no fucking luck opening the portal to take me away from everybody. She's been trying, too. Just no fucking luck.
Calla snickers again. “I could ask the same thing about you.”
Kalen whines, “I'm doing my best as leader.”
The fuck? I beg to fucking differ.
“Sure you are,” Calla says.
“I am!”
Maris smacks her forehead with her palm. I don't fucking blame her. She mutters, “Kalen, if you're going to lead you need to set a better example. You're whining. Leaders don't whine.”
Kalen says, “Hey! Remember this is my house. You're only here because we're letting you stay even after what you did to Wes.”
His house? The fuck? Is he forgetting whose fucking house this is? It's my fucking house. I decide who stays. Not him.
I glare at him. “Excuse me, Kalen?”
“I'm just explaining things to Maris,” he mutters.
“You're explaining them wrong. This isn't your fucking house, Kalen,” I hiss.
“What's your problem? I live here too!” he says.
“You live here because I'm fucking letting you.” The fuck is wrong with him?
He whines, “And I don't like how you're letting Maris stay here. She's dangerous and unpredictable. I think you need to show more concern for the others in this house.”
The fuck? I feel that electricity again. Know what it means this time. Try to fucking control it. Won't let myself go. Can't let myself go.
Kalen asks, “Well, aren't you going to answer me?”
No, not going to let the fucking power go this time. Won't. Can't. I won't do it again.
The power leaps from me anyway. Wes pushes Kalen out of the way. Fuck. I try to recall the power. Fucking no. This won't happen. I won't let it happen. I won't let it fucking happen.
The power hits Wes.
Fucking no!
It can't be. It won't be. I won't fucking let it. My throat closes up. My vision goes funny. This isn't fucking real. It can't be. It won't be. I won't fucking let it.
Wes falls to the ground. But he can't be hit. I won't let him. I won't let Wes die because of me!
Can't move. Frozen in fucking place. Gotta snap out of it.
I run over to Wes. Kneel down beside him. He's still breathing. Still has a fucking pulse. That's when I notice the blood. All fucking over his shirt. Breathing sounds wrong. Shallow. Pulse is weak. Fucking no, he's not dying.
“Wes? Wes? Can you hear me?” I take his hand in mine. Try not to fucking panic too much. Gotta stay strong for Wes if I want him to live.
“I - can hear you,” he whispers. Sounds so fucking weak, too.
“You're not allowed to die, you understand?” I mutter.
“Don't - think I have much choice, dude” he rasps.
I hiss, “You're not allowed to fucking die. Not - not when I love you.”
He won't die. He can't fucking die. It is not fucking allowed. Wes has to live. There's no other choice.
“I -” Wes can't even fucking speak.
And it's all my fucking fault. I did this to him. I won't let him fucking die because of something I did. Wes must live. He has to. Not optional. Fucking mandatory that he lives.
“D-don't speak, Wes. Save your energy, so you can live.”
Wes doesn't listen. “Not - gonna live, dude. I'm - so sorry.”
“You are gonna fucking live. Not allowed to fucking die, Wes.” He isn't. I won't fucking let him.
Maris shouts, “Get over yourself and heal him!”
The fuck? Is that fucking possible?
Don't care if it is or not, I'm gonna do it anyway. But how? I think as hard as I fucking can about Wes living. Try to think the life back into him. Scrunch up my face in concentration. Order his wound to close. Order him to fucking live.
I squeeze his hand so hard I might fucking break it. Don't care, as long as he lives.
His breathing gets stronger. Color returns to his face. He's going to live. Wes is going to fucking live!
“You saved me.” Wes is fucking smiling. Like I'm not the reason he's lying on the ground covered in blood in the first place.
“Dude, I'm why you were hurt,” I say. Can't deny that.
He keeps fucking smiling. “You still saved me and used your power on me, though I know how much you hate it. I - I love you, Devin.”
My heart doesn't do anything anymore, but it still skips a beat. Don't know what to fucking say. I told Wes I loved him, but now that he's going to live, I can't fucking say it again. Lost all my nerve. Should be easy, but it's fucking not. I know I still don't deserve him. Not even fucking close.
I'm still dangerous. Unpredictable. Me.
Wes whispers, “I know you love me, too. I heard you.”
“Yeah, Wes, I love you.” Can't fucking lie about it now, even if I can't be with him. Hurts to look at Wes. He's so fucking happy, like he thinks this somehow makes things okay.
He looks me right in my eyes. Too fucking intense. “Don't you dare tell me you don't deserve me. I know you're thinking it, and just - don't, okay?”
Must be reading my fucking mind. I ask, “How'd you know I was going to say that?”
“We've been best friends how long? Devin, I know you. And you're wrong; you do deserve me. I don't want anybody but you,” he says.
My cheeks heat up. Not fucking blushing now.
“Aw, you're so pretty when you blush like that,” he breathes.
“Not fucking blushing, Wes.” My cheeks get even hotter.
He grins but then turns serious. Almost anxious. “Promise me you won't try to push me away again? No more of this 'I don't deserve you' stuff, okay? Please?”
His eyes fucking shine. Impossible to say no to him, but I don't know if I can promise what he wants.
“I don't want to push you away,” I manage. That's the fucking truth. As much as I may feel it's for the best, I never want to push him away. Not ever.
Want Wes with me always. Never want to let him go. I may be the god, but he's the one performing a fucking miracle by still wanting me. I squeeze his hand, let him know I'm fucking here for real. Looking into his eyes makes me wish I could fix everything, make it all right. Maybe I can. Maybe there's some way to undo all the fucking hurt. If I could just find it.
---------
written for the
hc_bingo prompt "Confession in a Desperate Situation"