"Arabian Nights"
Part 61
by Mel
There was nothing to say anymore. They had tried to tell each other lies in hopeful voices, but that had long since been given up on. There was nothing more they could do to convince themselves that everything would be all right, that any second now they’d wake up and laugh at their absurd little nightmare. That they’d joke and tease, they’d smile and laugh. That it wouldn’t feel as if the world had swallowed them, that Allah had turned his back on them all.
The Prince was going to die.
A single candle burned on a tall holder behind his bed, above his head. Lighting the way to Allah’s kingdom. So he wouldn’t lose his way when he left the earthly plane, when his sick body abandoned his spirit and he left them all.
Elijah had covered his ears long ago. It was almost as though he could forget that this was happening. As though, if he closed his eyes, if he couldn’t hear anything, then he wasn’t there. Like when he had hidden from his nannies as a child. This way he couldn’t hear the rattle of Viggo’s slow breaths as it sounded as though his chest was caving in on his great heart.
Because this wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Allah wasn’t this cruel. Not when he’d finally opened up. When Viggo had become such a part of his life that imagining him gone was an impossibility. When he felt as though he could let Viggo love him as the man had wanted to since those first, harsh, days.
So if he just pretended, pretended he couldn’t hear Orli shrieking, or Dom’s attempts at broken soothing as he himself choked back sobs. Pretend he couldn’t see Jared rocking, his knees drawn to his chest, eyes blankly watching the Prince. Pretend that Sean was trembling as he held him because he loved him, not because he was about to loose his best friend. Because If he pretended in his mind, then he wouldn’t be the small boy sobbing in reality. He wouldn’t be buried as deeply as he could be in Sean’s arms. That he wasn’t the one screaming silently into Sean’s chest. That was some other boy, a boy who didn’t really exist. A boy who’s life was falling apart.
Orli had been screaming for a while now. Dom couldn’t be really sure how long, he was too busy trying to hold him, too busy trying to stop him from climbing onto the Prince’s bed and killing him faster. Dom knew, if he let go, Orli would try to wake him up. He’d shake him, claw at him, hit him. He wouldn’t really understand that he’d just kill him faster.
Dom understood. He wanted to scream, wanted to fight. The terrified void that was eating away at his soul was consuming him. He had no doubt that soon he’d be fighting, that he’d be trying to make them come back, the feelings that he was losing. The life that would soon end would be worth it.
He’d scream and claw, he’d fight it. He’d fight the emptiness with everything he was. Dom would die for it - but it wouldn’t stop the card fate had dealt them.
Jared’s mind was blank. He wasn’t sure where he was, or what was happening. If he thought about it, dug through the piles of memories that were stacked before him, he knew he would find out - but stack was so high, to shift through them would take such a long time. He got the feeling whatever was happening, he didn’t want to know. It was something he wanted to forget. So he carefully turned the memories over in his mind until he could see nothing at all, and placed them gently in a trunk. It would take time to lock them all away he thought, and some memories screamed to be turned over, to be remembered. Jared ignored them, placing them all in the trunk, watching the pile dwindle away slowly.
Whatever was happening, it would be easier to forget.
Sean shook. One arm was wrapped around Elijah, rocking the boy slowly. The other hand held Viggo’s. He had watched one day in their youth, unable to do anything, when Viggo had tried to scale a cliff to save a puppy on a ledge. Viggo had always done it, saved one animal or another, defended the weak and helpless. Sean had been so used to it he hadn’t thought to stop the younger boy.
When Viggo's foot slipped about half way up Sean could only watch him fall. Watch the boy he loved die. Sean’s heart had stopped.
Viggo’s leg had been broken, but he was all smiles in a few days. Sean had sworn he would never let Viggo go off on his own again. That he would never be away from his side. So he wouldn’t have to watch him die again. Sean had followed him blindly into the desert, had suffered through it all to find Viggo’s smile at the end.
Viggo was going somewhere Sean couldn’t follow. Where he couldn’t go. Sean didn’t cry. He couldn’t, Viggo was going to wake up and smile, like he always did. They wouldn’t be apart again. Viggo couldn’t die. Because Sean wouldn’t survive if he did.
Karl stood at the doorway to the courtyard. His feet hovered at the edge. He could hear Orlando’s screams but he couldn’t go in. His mind howled, it shook in its cage, demanded to be allowed free, to protect his boy, to protect Orli as he always had. His body trembled until his legs gave way beneath him. He couldn’t move, Orli deserved better than his filth, than his worthlessness. He had failed the Prince again, and now he had failed Orli too. Karl covered his face with his hands, lost. What had he done?
Viggo was dying. Orli thrashed, fighting. He wasn’t
allowed to die. He couldn’t.
How DARE he leave him? How DARE he! He screamed, fighting it, Viggo had to
fight to. He was stronger than this, stronger than them all. Orli wouldn’t
let him die. It was as simple as that, he just wasn’t allowed to die.
Orli loved him, so he couldn’t go, couldn’t leave him here by himself. Orli would go with him, he couldn’t be alone without him. It could not be happening. He struggled to be free and be allowed to go to Viggo. He had to.
“Let me go!” They were the first clear words in sometime, whoever held him let him go. Orli would never be sure if it had been in surprise, or because of the haunted sound his words made. Orlando stumbled, heaved his body to the bed. To his beloved. Viggo. He fell to his knees, eyes clouded, darkening, his breathing shallow.
When did everything fade away?
Where had it all gone? The fight? The fury?
He could not even save the man he loved. Who he would die for. Orlando caught Viggo’s hand, held it, willed him back. Willed him to open his eyes. There was a sharp intake of breath and Orli stared, hopeful, he was all right, everything would be fine.
Viggo's chest gave a final, heaving rattle and all sound ceased.
Orlando howled.
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