Forget Me Not

Ending

Red shrugs off his leg, placing it gently back on the bed before collapsing on him, and for a moment it’s still, just the sound of their breathing and Red in his arms. 
 
“Green,” Red breathes out, awestruck and loving, voice soft from years and years of knowing his body and even longer knowing his heart. 
 
Green stiffens, pushing Red away. The other man is all muscle and strength, but he goes back easily enough, and then Green is out of the bed, yanking on the first pair of boxers he can lay his hands on. His hands are shaking and he can feel the sharp hot prick of tears, but he ignores that, ignores Red, ignores everything. 
 
“Green, love -”
 
“You left,” Green snarls, twisting around and shooting Red a vicious glare. “You promised you’d stay, and you died .” He’s pale in the light, his freckles standing out, and Green’s heart breaks all over again. 
 
“I know, and I’m so sorry,” Red says quietly, approaching him slowly as if he’s a wild animal, and maybe he’s right to because Green feels like one. “I’m so sorry, Green, but I’m here now, aren’t I?”
 
Green can feel gravity at that moment, the drag and pull of it as he leans closer into Red’s orbit. “You left,” he says, his voice sounds distant even to his ears. Red takes his hand, dragging him even closer. When Green gazes down at him, his eyes are shiny, cheeks wet again. 
 
“I’m here now, and I’m not leaving again.”
 
 
 
 
 
Hours later they lay close, an indistinguishable tangle of limbs. It's hopelessly possessive and needy, a child that hasn’t quite managed to let go of its most beloved toy, but Green can’t bring himself to care.  “What happened after?” Red asks after a long stretch of time. He has his hand splayed over his chest. He can feel the beat of his heart, powerful and strong. Green’s relief is giddy, dizzying. 
 
“I don’t remember,” Green confesses, frowning as he tries to recall what happened after. He releases a breath, sharply relieved that he can’t remember it. “I just remember how lonely and empty I felt.”
 
Red nuzzles his face into his neck, humming, Green both hears and feels it. “I’m sorry,” he says wetly, but Green shakes his head. 
 
“It wasn’t your fault,” he says firmly. “And you came back to me.” Red laughs wetly and pushes himself up so he can see him a bit. 
 
“I promised, didn’t I?”
 
“Yeah, you did,” he says, and because there’s one more thing he remembers, he speaks again. “Selene, you would have been proud of her. She was a good Champion.” Red smiles, pride glittering in his eyes. 
 
“I always knew she would be,” he says, but Green can hear how proud he is of their former student. He presses a kiss to the top of his forehead. Soft hair tickles his cheeks as he breathes in Red. 
 
And this, remembering, it feels good, exceedingly so. Green has missed remembering everything and everyone, has missed loving Red, but the memories are a double-edged sword. His loss feels too fresh, too sharp. To go from not knowing anything to remembering it all. It hurts.  
 
Grey sludges of melted ice lines the pavement. From the Lab window, he can see people trudging through the day, tired and hopeless. Green feels his nails pinch at the skin, but he barely feels it; he feels nothing. 
 
“Leaf, reporters want to talk to you about Red's passing,” one of their -- no, his now -- assistants says. She doesn’t quite meet his eyes, her eyes focused on her feet. Distantly, Green recalls that she was one of the heroes that went on that mission with Red. One of the ones that got to survive, he thinks to himself bitterly. 
 
“Cancel it,” She tells him, turning back to the view. It’s a clear dismissal, but the other assistant doesn’t bother leaving. 
 
“But Leaf, people need to hear from you!”
 
“I said,” she begins, hes voice low and deadly as she turns to him, “Cancel it.”  he nods once, jerkily, and leaves without a word, closing the door with a soft snap. Green feels cold. He can remember a time when he was happy but not now, not anymore. He doesn’t think he’ll love another person like he did Red. Not for however long he lives. 
 
“Were you happy?” Red asks when light breaks through, darkness fading into a soft orange. His breath is a hot gust against his skin where he’s draped over Green. “After, I mean.”
 
His voice is soaked with sleep and heavier from it, like a deadweight. It’s dazed and far away as if he’s come out of some dream or a new memory that this has all stirred. Green hums at the question, lifting the arm that has slipped from Red’s back so he can run his fingers through his curls. 
 
“Eventually,” he admits, licking his dry lips and clearing his throat. “Our friends, they helped a lot, but I was never happy like before.” 
 
Red mumbles something incoherent, turning his head and pressing a kiss to his neck. It burns away any residual sleep. “And are you happy now?”
 
“Yes,” Green says again, thinking of his Sibling, all his friends, thinking about being safe from his Gramps and the reporters and villains. “I’m happier now, though.”
 
Red smiles, achingly sweet and lovely. Green leans down and kisses the man without a word, warmth filling him when Red doesn’t pull back. “I’m glad,” Red says when they break away. “You’re gonna have to tell me all about it.”