(no subject)
To say that Duo Maxwell was avoiding most human beings, and the Halloween festivity-propagating ones in particular, like the plague would have been a mild understatement. It had been… who the hell gave a damn however many days since he’d woken up to find the golden suit missing from it’s place of reverence in his- their- closet, and two less dogs to the heard and a few less sex toys to the island’s incriminating supply. All that was left were the things he’d made since arriving- things whittled, things swiped; sketches of Duo on pieces of scrap paper; a few highly questionable Hawaiian shirts that still smelled like him. Annagovia was being curt with the other hybrids now their father was missing, but was keeping closer to Duo than ever, certainly since Polly had gone when she was still a pup. Zwerg was confused and disconsolate in turns, which Duo had idly assumed would mean hell for the furniture, but so far had only been so for the smaller local wildlife which was getting damned good at running up trees without pause or concern for gravity.
They were all broken, and Duo felt guilty for it.
He had left the brood to watch the yard and started wandering the beach, muscles sore from a few days’ inactivity and feeling too numb internally to stand being around so many things that should have held such sentiment. The ongoing expanse of sand and water were comforting only in the way that they seemed to reaffirm that the only thing that was destined to last was Duo’s stay on the island, regardless of who else came or went.
A mist rolled up off the sea and he squinted into it, nose crinkling up in expectation of sulfur or something gaseous, but it was just salty and half opaque. He frowned, experimentally wiping a hand through the stuff in front of his face, then gave up and trudged on through the vapor.
His heart almost gave out when he saw a wink of gold.
The post master general of Ankh-Morpork, a place Duo now felt more connected to than the Earth he’d fought so hard to protect, clicked his tongue gently and slid his hands into his pockets.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
“Moist?” Duo said, straining against the way his throat had tightened up.
“I thought- oh holy fuck, I thought you were gone, you- where the hell-” Moist held up a hand to stop Duo short of throwing his arms about the taller man, and Duo only realized once he’d careened to a halt that his feet had taken off in the first place.
“I am gone,” Moist told him. “No trick, I’m afraid. I’m not really here.”
“No,” Duo insisted, grabbing his husband’s arm, “I can feel you, you’re right here. You’re- what the hell is this?! Why are you- What kind of con bullshit are you trying to pull? And why didn‘t you tell me?!”
“Duo,” Moist said gently, closing his hand around the pilot’s wrist and just as gently lowering it, “I’m not here any longer. It’s just these mists.” Duo shook his head adamantly.
“That doesn’t make any sense. This doesn’t- Moist,” he tried desperately to start again, more steadily, but found himself shaking.
“I had to leave, Duo,” Moist explained, cupping the shorter man’s jaw. “You do see that, don’t you? It was too good for too long. Everyone leaves.”
“I don’t understand,” Duo whispered fiercely, face tight and scowling against the sting of tears he wouldn’t let form, let alone fall.
“Everyone leaves you, one way or the other,” Moist explained more slowly. “It was just, you know. Time for me to go.”
Though all the noise of the world seemed to have been deadened and sucked out of the air by the mist, the words nevertheless echoed with a jarring fullness in Duo’s ears. He shook his head slightly, staring fixedly at Moist’s face, trying to find some sign of counterfeit and failing.
“This isn’t real.”
“No,” Moist agreed, “but it’s true, so there you have it.”
“You left.”
“I just went,” Moist said. “It wasn’t a conscious decision, but it never is. Your parents, Solo, Father Maxwell and Sister Helen, Polly- we just… go. You’re a step up here, anyway, aren’t you? Usually it’s death takes us away. Here we just disappear.”
This was probably a dream, Duo realized, although that brought up the bizarre and worrying possibility that his entire life since falling through that energy burst was a dream.
“I miss you,” he said, feeling childish as he did it but realizing that this bizarre fever dream version of Moist was probably the last one he’d ever see.
“It’s because you don’t learn,” Moist said, patting Duo on the shoulder. “Some people are just meant to be alone, Duo. You’ve always known that’s true. It doesn’t make you better or worse off than anyone, just… makes things a bit worse off for the people you surround yourself with.” Duo felt nauseous. This was a nightmare.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know. We all know.”
“I love you,” Duo said.
“Yes,” Moist sighed, and the sound seemed a little bigger than what should have come from the older man’s lungs; it sounded almost like wind moving over water or sand. The mist shifted.
“If only that were enough.” The fog grew thicker and seemed to streak, blur, in the direction of the island’s interior, and before he really knew what he was looking at, Duo was looking only at ocean and sand, alone. He stood in a sort of stunned, dumb daze until the two wolves behind him began physically prodding him with their skulls. He gave a dull sort of start and looked down at them, then at the patch of sand where the thick gloomy fog had been.
“I’m going fucking crazy,” he mumbled, then sat and pressed the heels of his hands to the backs of his eyelids for a while, and let his thoughts chase themselves in circles.
They were all broken, and Duo felt guilty for it.
He had left the brood to watch the yard and started wandering the beach, muscles sore from a few days’ inactivity and feeling too numb internally to stand being around so many things that should have held such sentiment. The ongoing expanse of sand and water were comforting only in the way that they seemed to reaffirm that the only thing that was destined to last was Duo’s stay on the island, regardless of who else came or went.
A mist rolled up off the sea and he squinted into it, nose crinkling up in expectation of sulfur or something gaseous, but it was just salty and half opaque. He frowned, experimentally wiping a hand through the stuff in front of his face, then gave up and trudged on through the vapor.
His heart almost gave out when he saw a wink of gold.
The post master general of Ankh-Morpork, a place Duo now felt more connected to than the Earth he’d fought so hard to protect, clicked his tongue gently and slid his hands into his pockets.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
“Moist?” Duo said, straining against the way his throat had tightened up.
“I thought- oh holy fuck, I thought you were gone, you- where the hell-” Moist held up a hand to stop Duo short of throwing his arms about the taller man, and Duo only realized once he’d careened to a halt that his feet had taken off in the first place.
“I am gone,” Moist told him. “No trick, I’m afraid. I’m not really here.”
“No,” Duo insisted, grabbing his husband’s arm, “I can feel you, you’re right here. You’re- what the hell is this?! Why are you- What kind of con bullshit are you trying to pull? And why didn‘t you tell me?!”
“Duo,” Moist said gently, closing his hand around the pilot’s wrist and just as gently lowering it, “I’m not here any longer. It’s just these mists.” Duo shook his head adamantly.
“That doesn’t make any sense. This doesn’t- Moist,” he tried desperately to start again, more steadily, but found himself shaking.
“I had to leave, Duo,” Moist explained, cupping the shorter man’s jaw. “You do see that, don’t you? It was too good for too long. Everyone leaves.”
“I don’t understand,” Duo whispered fiercely, face tight and scowling against the sting of tears he wouldn’t let form, let alone fall.
“Everyone leaves you, one way or the other,” Moist explained more slowly. “It was just, you know. Time for me to go.”
Though all the noise of the world seemed to have been deadened and sucked out of the air by the mist, the words nevertheless echoed with a jarring fullness in Duo’s ears. He shook his head slightly, staring fixedly at Moist’s face, trying to find some sign of counterfeit and failing.
“This isn’t real.”
“No,” Moist agreed, “but it’s true, so there you have it.”
“You left.”
“I just went,” Moist said. “It wasn’t a conscious decision, but it never is. Your parents, Solo, Father Maxwell and Sister Helen, Polly- we just… go. You’re a step up here, anyway, aren’t you? Usually it’s death takes us away. Here we just disappear.”
This was probably a dream, Duo realized, although that brought up the bizarre and worrying possibility that his entire life since falling through that energy burst was a dream.
“I miss you,” he said, feeling childish as he did it but realizing that this bizarre fever dream version of Moist was probably the last one he’d ever see.
“It’s because you don’t learn,” Moist said, patting Duo on the shoulder. “Some people are just meant to be alone, Duo. You’ve always known that’s true. It doesn’t make you better or worse off than anyone, just… makes things a bit worse off for the people you surround yourself with.” Duo felt nauseous. This was a nightmare.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know. We all know.”
“I love you,” Duo said.
“Yes,” Moist sighed, and the sound seemed a little bigger than what should have come from the older man’s lungs; it sounded almost like wind moving over water or sand. The mist shifted.
“If only that were enough.” The fog grew thicker and seemed to streak, blur, in the direction of the island’s interior, and before he really knew what he was looking at, Duo was looking only at ocean and sand, alone. He stood in a sort of stunned, dumb daze until the two wolves behind him began physically prodding him with their skulls. He gave a dull sort of start and looked down at them, then at the patch of sand where the thick gloomy fog had been.
“I’m going fucking crazy,” he mumbled, then sat and pressed the heels of his hands to the backs of his eyelids for a while, and let his thoughts chase themselves in circles.