Work Text:
“Guest! Slow down!”
Jason calls, hearing his own weary voice carry across this meadow. He stops to catch a breath, resting his hands on his knees as he pants. He’s got a good view of the flowers from this angle, daffodils and forget-me-nots he thinks.
He hears muted footsteps rushing back to him and soon after another pair of shoes meets his own, skidded with dirt and still in those permanently tied laces next to his mildly cleaner, forever untied ones.
“Sorry, sorry.”
Guest’s voice is higher than he remembers, his shoe size smaller too. Now that he thought about it, they were both rather little.
But he doesn’t have time to think about it. Guest shoves an arm under him and helps him up again. Weirdly, he’s not adverse to the gesture.
“C’mon, we’re gonna miss it!”
They walk, both of them breathless now, through the lot. At some points, various wild plants and grasses get as tall as their hips are, and still Guest makes him avoid squashing any plants.
Both heave themselves up a hill and onto a little spot where the grass didn’t grow so thick. They more or less collapse next to each other.
The grass is soft here, the setting sun casts a warmth over Jason and the entire scene around him is bathed in a wonderful golden hue. It’s a beautiful spot, really, he understands why Guest was so eager to show him this.
The other boy pulls himself up, leaning forward with a gasp. His eyes are all wide and starry.
“Jason! Jason, look!”
He urges.
Jason sits up as well, and instantly feels his breath is stolen again. The sunlight had never been so soft before, spreading into the sky and turning it all sorts of shades of pinks and purples and deep blues. The clouds look like a frame around the sky itself, boxing an entire solar system into this singular moment.
He takes in a shuddering breath. He’s really alive. He’s really in his body, and better yet, he’s sharing such a moment with a friend.
Suddenly, his eyes feel wet and his vision is blurry, he rubs at them, trying to clear away the tears, to remember this moment forever.
More than anything, Jason wanted to remember this.
He pulls his hands away from his face and he’s back to reality. He’s back in these rags, covered with itchy, bloody bandages, he’s back with the knife stuck firmly in his shoulder and weapon clutched in his iron grip.
So why is his vision still so blurry?
Slasher looks at Guest to the side of him, laying flat on the dirt, chest heaving in rhythm with Slasher’s own. A pool of blood forms beneath him, the earth drinks it up.
Despite the red gashes on his body, Slasher can make out the fact he’s smiling.
He looks up at the sky as well. It’s the moon now, full. There’s all there is, the blank black sky and its moon, whose light had never been colder.
“Would you look at that…”
Guest rasps out, weakly lifting his arm and showing something to Slasher, one crushed daffodil. Muddied with ripped petals, but a daffodil, still.
It’s a gesture he doesn’t mind.
He doesn’t even realize he’s reached out his hand to take it, barely getting to brush against the stem before everything resets.
Slasher’s mind was full, too full, and his eyes were still watery for whatever reason. He didn’t know if he’d won or not. He couldn’t find it within himself to focus on that.
Like two lines running parallel, so close but never touching, bound in the same direction.