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 Posted: Sun Feb 23, 2025 7:14 am
Takes place January 2025. This wasn’t the first time he’d felt a strange fluctuation in the necklace he wore. Devyn was usually good about hiding his emotions -- something which Michael wished he wouldn’t do. At least not with the intention to hide things from him.
He understood that Devyn might be doing it out of a desire to protect him, but as someone whose partner couldn’t feel the turbulence of his heart, Michael sometimes wished that Devyn could. It would make opening up about things easier, at least. Instead of cautiously navigating around conversations that were likely not important enough to bring up. Not when there was so much more to worry about.
It was snowing out. Michael had already gotten ready for bed, wearing slippers and a house robe over his warm winter pajamas. He wasn’t in any rush to get to bed, though. Not while Devyn was still out.
Somewhere.
Michael didn’t text him. He didn’t call him. He trusted Devyn. He was also worried that a text or call could distract Devyn, or draw someone unwanted to notice him. It wasn’t because he didn’t worry, or didn’t care. But worrying only got him more secrecy it seemed. So he tried not to.
“Atticus and Lucien are at the Reids,” Michael said quietly as he heard the door shut. He’d seen the notification on his phone that Devyn was home. And Devyn knew he’d be able to see it. He was sitting on the couch with a book as he waited for Devyn to get home, but now that he looked up to see him, Michael frowned.
“Everything alright?” he asked, just as quietly. He didn’t jump up from the couch. He didn’t want to seem worried. He wanted Devyn to feel comfortable talking to him. But he didn’t like the expression on his husband’s face.
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Posted: Sun Feb 23, 2025 7:15 am
Devyn lingered by the door despite the welcome. It wasn’t always uncommon; sometimes he just needed a moment to work off his boots. He’d left wearing calf-length boots with zippers, hardly anything enough to give him a challenge.
The necklace around Michael’s neck was steady, devoid of all fluctuations. And then, it fluttered. Devyn sighed.
“Yes,” he said, but it was followed shortly with, “and no.”
Devyn wore dark colors on his way out, but this was common when he planned to power up. It was safer to wear something nondescript, especially if it let you slip away unseen to power up or down. It also made it hard to see where blood had soaked into his sleeve but he held his arm up just slightly as if to indicate its need for attention.
“There’s no emergency,” he prefaced, now in the living room. His expression was solemn and he brought no gifts tonight. “But if you have time, I would like to borrow your skills. I think I need stitches. But it’s no trouble.”
He might have suspected something was amiss, for Atticus and Lucien both to be away already, and for Michael to be out in the living room waiting. It wasn’t unlike Michael to be up waiting for him, but there was something different about tonight. Michael exuded no hostility but neither was there his characteristic warmth.
Devyn approached with caution and curiosity, and even as he visibly favored his arm he could not pretend like he was without concern for Michael. He asked, as Michael had, “Is everything alright here?”
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Posted: Sun Feb 23, 2025 7:15 am
“I always have time for you,” Michael said gently, already marking the page he was on so he could slowly close the book, and then set it on the coffee table. He wasn’t jumping up from the couch. Devyn said there was no emergency, so he didn’t treat it as one.
He could smell the blood, something metallic surrounding Devyn.
It was a sensation he was only just starting to get used to. Before, unless there was a significant amount, it wasn’t too noticeable to Michael. Now? He almost didn’t need Devyn to tell him if he’d been hurt.
Michael could see the expression on Devyn’s face, and he offered him a small smile in reassurance.
“Everything is alright. Let’s get you cleaned up,” he gestured for Devyn to lead the way to their room. The bathroom would be the best place with the most light and sterile surfaces to clean a wound. And less likely for Atticus or anyone else to wander in and get upset.
Even if he had wanted to talk to Devyn about his evenings out, he knew what his priorities were. There would be other opportunities to talk. Trying to get Devyn to share anything now might just make him clam up even more.
He didn’t ask what happened. Devyn would tell him if it was important. He wanted to ask. He wanted to fuss over Devyn’s injury. He wanted to reassure him that it was just a small wound and he’d get him fixed up in no time.
There was a lingering fear that if he said too much, or did too much, that even less would be shared with him. He wanted Devyn to trust him to have a level head in all things, since that was what seemed to coax Devyn into telling him about his injuries and troubles. But sometimes he just wanted to wrap his arms around him and hold him tight and beg him to be more careful. An impossible feat already, it seemed.
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Posted: Sun Feb 23, 2025 7:15 am
Devyn’s eyes lingered on Michael, on the smile, but he nodded and made his way to their bathroom. He didn’t delay though it had less to do with getting himself treatment and more to do with deciphering Michael’s subdued nature.
He expected questions, and fussing.
He received neither.
To save Michael the trouble, Devyn pulled out the first aid kit, and when that was on the counter he didn’t waste time by rolling up his sleeve; instead, he just peeled off his shirt entirely. Blood had soaked through the bandages wrapping his right arm, from wrist to bicep. He tossed the shirt in the bathtub. It could be rinsed; he doubted it would stain.
Still no questions, so he sat on the edge of the bathtub and looked up at Michael as he began unwinding the bandages. They’d only recently started to soak through; it was a semi-fresh injury, maybe only an hour old. It was trying to heal but had yet to make much progress, and it looked like he hadn’t been doing himself any favors and letting it heal.
Michael’s questions might have been unspoken but they hung in the air nonetheless, and in the strange tension Devyn thought it unnecessary to let silence breed. He answered an unspoken inquiry for both their sakes.
“It was a General. I didn’t recognize him. We didn’t exchange names.” Three evenly distanced gashes marred his arm, one from mid-arm to elbow, and two on his upper arm. One was noticeably deeper than the others and bled the most. Devyn had enough scars that these would fade into them soon enough.
He had a few other scratches and scrapes, and bruises in moderation, but none were of significant interest and would likely be gone by the end of the week, anyway.
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Posted: Sun Feb 23, 2025 7:16 am
How Devyn managed to keep his heart so calm, Michael would never know. Obviously many, many years of practice, but Michael was certain Devyn would be able to hear the sound of his trying to escape his chest.
Especially after the sight of the injury.
He sucked in a small breath of air, potentially giving away the facade of a calm demeanor. He had plenty of focus on, though. Especially since Devyn was still bleeding.
It bothered him, more than he cared to admit, that he barely even noticed a fluctuation in the necklace. He didn’t know if he should be upset or frustrated or just grateful to have it in the first place. He knew it was essentially prying into Devyn’s privacy, but this wasn’t the first time he’d thought it would be better for Devyn if Michael just didn’t wear it. He could find other ways to ground himself, even if he’d gotten used to having Devyn’s heartbeat against his chest.
“Here, I’m going to work on this deeper one, but I’ll need you to keep pressure on the other two,” Michael explained as he took out clean gauze and offered them to Devyn. With stitches being necessary, Michael pulled out a small glass vial of lidocaine and a syringe.
There were so many questions he had. Mostly, he wanted to make sure Devyn was okay. He would wait until Devyn was stitched up to hold him.
“b*****d got you good,” Michael clicked his tongue as he took a moment to gently clean away the blood around the area he wanted to work on. “I hope you gave him hell.”
A little numbing injected around the area to start. Michael’s hands were already getting stained with Devyn’s blood, but it was a small price to pay to make sure Devyn was fixed up as good as he could manage.
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Posted: Sun Feb 23, 2025 7:16 am
For all that Devyn hid, he was like a sponge trying to absorb anything Michael would give him. It was hypocritical and he could recognize that but it wasn’t such an easy thing to turn off.
He’d been watching Michael prepare the stitches and though he wasn’t looking forward to it, neither did he seem so distressed by the prospect. Michael was good at what he did, and whatever Michael had injected eased the rest of his discomfort.
It should have been enough to let Devyn lower another wall but he stayed tense.
He was compliant, doing as instructed and making his best effort to be of help to Michael.
“I did,” he assured, but there was no pride in his voice. Devyn’s usual pride was tucked elsewhere. He watched Michael’s fingers, a suitable distraction for a few seconds, and then asked, “Did you send Lucien and Atticus away?”
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Posted: Sun Feb 23, 2025 7:16 am
Michael worked quickly but with precision. He knew Devyn had plenty of scars already, but his concern was making sure the wounds healed without infection.
He pressed his lips together as he worked. It was easy to use his concentration as an excuse to not lift his eyes to meet Devyn’s.
“Yes,” he answered simply. But it didn’t matter now. He suspected Devyn might ask why, so he just shrugged. “You were out late. I was worr--” He paused, internally cursing himself for letting a word like that slip.
He knew better than to be worried. Devyn brushed off worry. Hid from worry. Lied about anything that might cause Michael to worry. And soon, Michael didn’t know what was truth or carefully fabricated lies with the intention of letting him live blissfully ignorant of any troubles his husband might be going through.
“I wanted to give you a chance to breathe if you needed it,” he tried again, but the damage was done, and he sighed heavily.
And with that, he lifted his eyes to Devyn’s face. Just briefly, before reaching out to gently place a hand on the back of Devyn’s head so he could hold him as he pressed their foreheads together. Just a moment or two. He had work to do, but he was weak to Devyn’s presence.
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Posted: Sun Feb 23, 2025 7:16 am
Devyn was quiet when Michael said he was worried, because even if he hadn’t finished the word, he’d still said it. Devyn still knew. And Michael knew, too.
When their eyes met, Devyn almost looked sorry. He smiled softly, even if it didn’t light up his face, and he took comfort in the closeness Michael offered him.
“Thank you for looking out for me, Michael. I know I don’t always make it easy. I’m sorry I made you worry, I don’t mean to.”
But Michael knew that. Devyn wouldn’t have gone through such lengths to keep his troubles in a safe little pocket where they never had to reach him. It wasn’t that he never shared, it was just that he had a thousand odd years to unpack, and after so much solitude it was easy to file things away. Sometimes he didn’t know what was worth talking about. Sometimes it wasn’t worth unpacking.
“I hadn’t planned to be out so late. I had to take a trip to Alsator, but I came back as quickly as I could. I wanted to be home with you. Not just because of this,” he said, half-heartedly gesturing to his arm.
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Posted: Sun Feb 23, 2025 7:16 am
How could Michael ever be frustrated with Devyn when he said sweet things like how he wanted to be home with him? Michael sighed again, drawing back enough to kiss Devyn’s forehead, his cheek, his lips. He didn’t let himself linger. He needed to focus on getting Devyn’s arm fixed up.
“I wish you would let me worry. Things are different now. You know, Percy didn’t like when you lied to him either, but he accepted it. I don’t know if I can do that, Dev.”
There were a lot of things to process about what Devyn had said, but Michael took a little longer to make sure some solid stitches were in place before looking up at Devyn with another frown.
“Again?” he asked, this time searching Devyn’s eyes and expression. Obviously, Devyn was allowed to visit his world whenever he wanted, provided he had the energy and means to do so. “You went to Alastor with your arm like this?”
There were other questions, but he wanted Devyn to have a chance to answer.
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Posted: Sun Feb 23, 2025 7:17 am
On occasion, Devyn found that he enjoyed hearing Michael’s interpretation of Percy’s memories, but it was sometimes a bit of a strain because–yes, that was fair. Percy didn’t like when Devyn lied, so Devyn had gotten very good at lying to reduce the stress he put Percy under.
Back then, he’d learned that there were situations that had no right answer, and despite his best efforts there would never be a truly positive outcome. He learned to mitigate what damage he could through concealment and evasiveness.
The necklace glowed with more energy with each kiss, and the light was warm and longing.
Devyn had let a few more walls down but he was still tiptoeing around his emotions. He wasn’t quite evasive when prompted with questions; he’d rather Michael ask than not, if only because he knew how those unknowns could fester.
He could assume what was going on in Michael’s mind, but he felt better hearing it said.
It was selfish to deny Michael the same, so when prompted with questions he did not immediately answer–but he did not immediately lie, either.
He watched Michael work. It was easy to get lost in the meticulously delicate way he handled Devyn–Devyn, who was strong enough to be treated roughly and still heal just fine, and yet Michael handled his injuries like one wrong move might shatter him.
It was sweet. Devyn didn’t need such gentle care but he wouldn’t say as much to Michael, who certainly already knew. Devyn wasn’t used to such tender kindness and he soaked up all that Michael offered whenever he could.
“It wasn’t for long,” Devyn reassured, but maybe that didn’t matter. “I’m stronger on Alastor.” As Alastor.
It was the truth, but not at all the whole of it. Devyn held his breath for a moment and then slowly exhaled.
“...I suppose I’ve fallen into some old habits, Michael. It isn’t that I want to lie to you,” Devyn said slowly. He didn’t have to choose his words carefully with Michael, he knew that. Michael understood him no matter the circumstances, and of course he had those nagging thoughts in the back of his head that one day something would change, but…
A few seconds of looking into Michael’s eyes was long enough to chase away more worries than he could conjure.
“Maybe it’s just that I forget myself sometimes. It’s easy to go through familiar motions. Especially when I’ve got a lot on my mind. It’s no excuse, but I don’t want to hurt you. That’s never been my intention. I’m sorry, Michael. Have I made you worry much?”
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Posted: Sun Feb 23, 2025 7:17 am
No, it wouldn’t have been for long. It never seemed to be for very long these days.
Over the summer, they both planned out weekend trips to Sessrumnir and Alastor. They both wanted to take time cleaning it up, spending time there with Princess, feeding the goats and making sure everything was in order in case there was another emergency.
But lately, Devyn seemed to be making frequent trips to Alastor by himself. And never for very long. He would bring back gifts for him and Atticus. Flowers that were growing there -- a reminder of warmth when it was so cold on Earth.
And yet, there never seemed to be warmth in Devyn’s eyes when he presented those gifts. Michael acted as though there was, of course. Especially for Atticus’ sake.
Atticus seemed to feel uneasy about things, but didn’t know why or what to do about it, so he always gave them both hugs with bright smiles, told them how much he loved them (the flowers and his parents), and set about arranging the flowers in one of the many vases they had.
In an attempt to give Devyn space to figure things out, Michael never asked. He didn’t ask why he was going to Alastor all the time, or why he looked so worn down. Like a shadow was over him, crushing him. Silently suffering because -- why? He didn’t want Michael to worry?
So when asked if Devyn made him worry much, Michael responded with a quiet, “Depends.”
He finished off the last suture for the worst of the gashes across Devyn’s arm. He cleaned off the blood that had seeped out from the other wounds, injected a little more anesthetic, and started the process on the next.
“If I worry, it’s because I love you and want to do more for you,” he said as he focused on his work, gently holding Devyn’s arm in place with his right hand while using the hooked needle with his left.
“I worry because I see you pulling away and hiding things from me. But I also can’t worry, because then you’ll want to pull away more. I appreciate that you put my wellbeing so high on your priorities, but I wish you would let me do the same for you. I’m not worried because I don’t trust you or don’t think you can handle yourself. I worry because I see you doing so much by yourself, when you don’t have to. If you want to? Then I’ll keep my worries to myself.”
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Posted: Sun Feb 23, 2025 7:18 am
There were many extra steps when Michael was taking care of him, undoubtedly because Michael was kind and patient and trying to make this a comfortable–or at least, not unbearable–process. Devyn wasn’t numb to the pain, it just wasn’t anything worth getting worked up about. It wasn’t anything worse than a cut. He could move his hand, his fingers. As long as he didn’t bleed out, it would heal up just fine.
But Michael was always so good to him.
He drew in a breath and held it, like air in his lungs would fuel his mind. It didn’t, everything was the same muddled mess it always was on nights like this.
“It’s not so black and white,” Devyn promised, but it took him another moment to expand. “I know you worry.”
Michael wasn’t very subtle about it despite his best efforts. It was the little things–the slight furrow of his brow, the way he was a little slower with his words, the way his gaze lingered on Devyn when he thought he wasn’t paying attention.
Devyn was acutely aware of Michael in ways he didn’t stop to dissect. He spent so much time with him that he’d picked up on many of Michael’s subtle quirks. But then, Michael probably didn’t work so hard to hide when something was wrong.
“And I love you for that,” he clarified. “You’re a very reasonable worrier. And I know you worry more when you don’t know what’s going on. It’s unreasonable for me to try and keep things from you. I thought I was doing a better job hiding it.”
He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and seemed to stay in thought for a few seconds. Pressing his lips together, Devyn lowered his head, gathered his thoughts, and looked up at Michael apologetically.
The necklace Michael wore suddenly felt heavy, like it was filled with lead more than light. It alternated between uncharacteristically slow, dull pulses, and rapid, flickering lights. It churned mercilessly, like a maelstrom.
The necklace had no consistency, and maybe Devyn’s emotions didn’t either.
He couldn’t process them fast enough, couldn’t sort them fast enough, so he buried them instead. For his sake, and Michael’s.
“It’ll pass,” he explained calmly. He could see the light of it through Michael’s shirt so he focused his eyes on that. He let the necklace present the tumultuous state of his emotions, and yet his face remained relaxed and his tone easy. “It’s not usually this bad. But I think I’m also very worried that you’ll be upset with me. I am already upset with myself.”
He paused, considered something, and then corrected, “No, I am upset with the circumstances. I think I’ve done the right thing, but I am disappointed that I had to. And I am sorry that I’ve kept it from you. Now, and before. I don’t think I wanted to talk about it. I dislike where my mind wanders sometimes. But saying that now, I realize the foolishness of it. You’ve always kept me grounded. I know you wouldn’t think poorly of me. You’d understand. So maybe I kept it to myself because I didn’t want grace on the matter. I’m sorry, I know I’m talking in circles.”
He could have continued doing it for a while but Michael had been patient for so long and Devyn already felt guilty for keeping secrets when Michael was so honest with him. He didn’t make Michael ask.
“I killed him,” he said bluntly, nodding to the newly stitched cut on his arm. “He wasn’t first since I’ve been on Earth. I don’t think he’ll be the last. I thought the situation warranted it.”
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Posted: Sun Feb 23, 2025 7:18 am
Michael felt the change in the necklace instantly, and for a moment it took his breath away. The heaviness of it, the inconsistency. Despair that festered and gathered and lingered and was held onto, as though Devyn knew he would be the only one who could ever handle the weight.
He’d stopped working on Devyn’s arm as their eyes met, although he made sure pressure was being kept on the wound. He searched Devyn’s eyes as he spoke, and then his expression when Devyn couldn’t keep eye contact for whatever reason.
It broke his heart.
Was this the true weight of Devyn’s emotions? Had he secretly been carrying this around with him all this time, or had this been manifesting over recent weeks? Months? Michael didn’t think his heart had ever been this troubled. Devyn said it wasn’t usually this bad. Michael had the necklace before Devyn even knew to conceal his emotions from him, so maybe it was a more recent development. Or maybe Devyn was just so used to keeping himself protected, likely from the Chaos that ruined his world, that it had become second nature to keep everything bottled up.
Had Devyn really planned on keeping it to himself, if he thought it would save Michael from worrying? Had he done this to Percy as well? Kept this torrent of sorrow and despair from him while he went about doing what he had to do? Hoping to spare all others from this suffering?
It was very Devyn to do just that. And it was no wonder why Michael felt the heaviness of a lifetime ago, when responsibilities were different. Expectations were different. It didn’t stop the anguish of wanting to do more and not being able to. The pureness of unwavering trust and undying love… trying to be dismantled and crushed by the cruelty of the universe around them.
Michael didn’t notice the tears that had filled his eyes until one fell, and he quickly brushed what remained away, even though more attempted to take their place.
“Sorry,” he quickly mumbled, his hand absently reaching to touch the necklace under his shirt, before reaching out to place his hand against Devyn’s face, thumb smoothing over his cheek as he watched him.
“I would have never wanted you to carry that burden on your own. Thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.” Not just the confession, but the torment in Devyn’s heart as well.
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Posted: Sun Feb 23, 2025 7:19 am
“I’m going to bottle it back up, though,” Devyn said, something he’d already decided. “You can help me carry other burdens, but not this one. It’s a lot right now.”
He leaned into the hand, and would have brushed Michael’s tears away if he wasn’t worried about getting blood on his face. “I’ve had a long time to learn how to navigate those emotions. It’s not fair to share that weight with you. But this will pass. It’s not always like this.”
He didn’t want Michael worrying about that. “Most of the time I’m in a very good mood. Especially when I’m with you.”
The necklace eased into something more steady, and the tumultuous storm raging inside slowed into something turbulent, but palatable. “I always wonder if I’m doing the right thing. I always wonder if tomorrow someone’s going to find a way to pull the Chaos out of them and let them go back to a normal life. I don’t go out looking for them, I’m not hunting anyone.”
Though some of them deserved a target on their back.
“It’s the starseeds,” he said after a moment. “I know not all of them pull starseeds. But I know some of them do, and when I see it…”
His voice trailed off. “Chaos ravaged my world. I’ve been thinking about it. About what might have happened to their starseeds. I want to hope that when they died, their starseeds went back to the Cauldron.”
Percy’s had, but he was different. He was a Knight. He’d been gone before the Chaos took root and spread.
“...But I can’t help but wonder if the Chaos did something to their starseeds. I can’t help but wonder if–” he cut himself off and sighed. “I have a lot of thoughts about it. But I don’t think the Negaverse understands how sacred starseeds are. So when I see one of them just taking them…”
His voice trailed off. He exhaled. He leaned into Michael’s hand more.
“...I put a stop to it. And I make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
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Posted: Sun Feb 23, 2025 7:19 am
Michael gave Devyn a weary look when he said he’d bottle everything back up, but nodded to the compromise of helping him carry other burdens.
Fine. If he wasn’t going to be allowed the full weight of Devyn’s emotions, then he would have to figure out a way to keep them from getting that bad.
“No, the Negaverse doesn’t understand how sacred starseeds are,” Michael frowned thoughtfully, then forced himself to pull his hand away from Devyn’s face so he could get back to fixing up his arm. He could be close to him later. Once he wasn’t losing blood.
“Jet took my father’s. Ganymede said she saw him eat it. That’s all it is to them. It’s not another life, just an energy source,” he said quietly, mournfully. Devyn hadn’t been there when everything happened. He’d gone back to Alastor to fight his own Chaos. Michael didn’t blame him for it, but he remembered missing him so much it hurt.
“They’ll keep killing, just because they can. Peter and his friends found a whole stash of starseeds they were able to return to Cosmos. Did he ever tell you that story? It might be too long for now. And it was years ago.”
A lifetime ago, it sometimes seemed. In many ways, it was.
“Atticus might be next,” he said just as quietly, thoughtfully as he finished closing up the second gash across Devyn’s arm, and finally moved onto the last. “Or Elliot. Their friend’s father had his taken. The knight who came with us to Sessrumnir. As soon as I heard about the cause of death -- a mysterious coma -- I knew exactly what happened.”
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