Memories

Chapter 3-1

Chapter 3

Black. Cold, black nothingness. Dearne’s heart pounded with a frantic rhythm. Brief moments of warmth and light and the voice. That voice. Will. Deep, dark; safe. Dearne struggled to find that place again, struggled to find the only hope he had in the hell into which he had fallen. Sucking air into his lungs was almost impossible, and his chest felt as though Satan himself was sitting on it. Dearne tried harder, but the harder he tried the worse it got. Panic feathered around the edges of his soul as he pulled in each tortured lungful. He wanted to shout but when he opened his mouth and screamed, nothing came out but a hoarse croak. Sucking in breath and screaming made his head swim and his heart beat in his throat. Where was he? Where was the voice? Will, he had said, Will. Where was Will? He had managed to clutch and squeeze a hand and then nothing. Dearne couldn’t bear it. He flung out his hand and screamed again in that nothing voice, felt the panic overwhelm him and tears fall as the dark lifted. Light. Warmth. Light and then…Dearne screamed the name as something grabbed him and the black engulfed him again.

* * * *

Will battled with the man who was a whole lot stronger than he imagined he would be. In the early morning light, Will had nipped out to relieve himself and returned to find Dearne thrashing about in the bed, screaming in a hoarse voice which held so much fear and desperation it chilled him. It was the voice of a man at the end. When Dearne had screamed his name, Will had been unable to stop himself getting onto the bed and gathering the terrified man into his arms to hold him in tightly.

“Shh, shh, I’ve got you,” he crooned into Dearne’s ear as he rocked him and immediately the screams and the thrashing subsided. Dearne simply melted into him. Will slid further down the bed, still holding Dearne tightly, and pulled him so he was lying against him. Dearne immediately wrapped himself around Will’s body and relaxed again with his head resting on Will’s chest. Will lay still, holding the now sleeping man with his heart racing.

“Can you hear me?” he said and took hold of one of Dearne’s hands, but there was no response. Will rested his cheek on the top of Dearne’s head and stared into the darkness for a long time.

He must have fallen asleep at some point, because when Will opened his eyes again, he was laying on his side almost nose to nose with Dearne. At least the man looked peaceful. He couldn’t resist reaching out and smoothing the soft, auburn curls from Dearne’s forehead and then running a thumb over his pale cheek. Will closed his eyes and sighed. He opened them again, and found himself staring into a pair of wide eyes that were a mesmerising, clear, silvery grey, he almost jumped from his skin. Afraid to move, he stared back.

Dearne blinked. Slowly.

Will searched his face and swallowed. When Dearne reached out and touched his face with a trembling hand, Will held his breath. When those grey eyes filled with tears, Will hurt inside.

Dearne’s voice was a raspy whisper. “Will?”

Will nodded. Words were beyond him.

“You saved me,” Dearne said, and pressed shaking fingers to Will’s face. “My Will.” The man leaned forward, and pressed a long, gentle kiss to Will’s stunned lips. Then, his eyes fluttered closed, leaving Will staring blankly, heart pounding, head spinning.

When Dearne’s breathing settled into the rhythm of sleep, Will slipped from the bed and escaped to the kitchen. He stood, breathing heavily, gripping the edge of the table. What he really wanted to do was go for a long walk. A very, very long walk, but didn’t really dare stray too far from the man occupying his bed in case he was seized with terrifying panic again.

Why had he kissed him? Why? Will found himself touching his mouth repeatedly.