"Why is it always so dark when you are by yourself? Why is it that everything always seems so far away, so foreign, when you are isolated from the world, from everything you thought you knew? Why do the colors seem to drain, from being so clear and vibrant, to something so... Bland...
"Why is it that when you are at your absolute lonliest, your absolute darkest, that you seen to resent the light the most? Why, now that I've been locked in this utter blackness for so long, do I desire it the most?"
Rugby thought this to himself as he floated along, in an endless black void that he had grown accoustom to after what... Weeks? Months? Years?
He didnt know anymore, and he did not care to even guess anymore. All he could remember now of before is scattered, broken, unclear... He doesnt care to remember at this point either; those things didn't matter.
He wouldnt get to feel snow again, he wouldn't get to smell his brother's shit cooking, or the cleaners that he used to use so desperately, like his very own ritual... It didnt matter. Nothing mattered. He was in a darkened void now regardless.
There wasn't anymore concept of right or wrong, good or evil, hell at this point he didnt even remember up or down, left or right, forwards or back, not that it mattered anyways, this was where he was now, and he couldn't change that darkness. He didnt get to know light anymore. He didn't want to. At least, he didn't think he did, 'till he saw that tiny speck of color.
It danced in front of his eyes like an ember, like a hope, a chance to hold onto it, and to escape. Maybe he would get to see his brother, maybe just maybe, he would get to go home.
He grasped at it, throwing himself forward so fast that it sent him tumbling end over end, in a today if motion he hadn't felt in what he could only think of as forever.
But, he couldn't think of that, not over the desperation of grabbing that ember, of escaping, of taking that hope and bringing it closer to himself, and never letting it go. He flailed about, trying desperately to try and get that tiny spark of color, and when he did, he saw a flash.
He saw his brother, finding the hoodie he had worn the day the darkness overtook him. He saw him, the brother who always seemed made of steel, start to desperately search for him. He saw him sob, he saw him mourn. He saw his brother seem to give up... Then, it shifted.
He saw his brother start to heal, though it was clear that he wasn't the same... He seemed... Kinder, softer...
He saw his brother meet someone, a man who let him be soft, a man who nurtured the kindness in his brother that he had always hidden. He was a man who, despite the harsh and, quite literal, cut throat society that they where in, would take the time to let him rest his head and cry onto his shoulder. He would dance with him, would hold him, would make him laugh, and smile, a truly happy smile that he hadn't seen grace his brother's face since they where children. He saw his brother grow, speed through the ranks of the royal guard in a manner that seemed even to surprise the king. He was achieving the dreams he had had since he was only a teen, he was a private, then suddenly a captain, then a general, then the kings right hand. His brother stood taller than he had ever seen him stand. He saw him, tall and brave in his work, and gentle and loving at home. He saw his brother fall in love, he saw his brother succeed, and then, he saw his brother propose.
Rugby's breath was stolen away as he saw this, but he couldn't stop watching.
He watched as his brother planned, and worried, and got more and more excited, and then he saw his brother in nearly regal, formal armor that was only given to the highest ranking officials, for the most important ceremonies. He saw his brother watch the mad ne had seen him fall in love with walk the isle to him, and he watched as his brother's groom wiped tears from his brother's face, and turn his face from the crowd, from the empty seat obviously labled with his name, and he saw this mistery man whisper, "I love you," to his brother.
He saw the wedding, his brother's wedding, that he was absent from. He saw his brother, at the most important day of his life, at the happiest day of his life, soured by one fact. That empty seat. The seat he should have been in. The one he never got to sit in, the seat he should have been in, the seat that only held that damned sweater, and that note with the word Rugby on.
Yet here he was, in this fucking void, in this fucking dark, in this emptiness, this absence of anything, that for some stupid reason he had grown complacent in. He should have been there.
If he hadn't given up, maybe his brother's wedding would have been perfect. Maybe he wouldn't have had to cry because of anything but happiness that day, maybe he wouldnt have had to look at an empty seat in the front row.
Rugby choaked back tears, and tried desperately to see more, tried to see what he could of his brother, to give him the motivation to get out.
But, even as he tried, the images where getting more and more greyscale and umclear. Where getting more and more unfocused. The last thing he could make out was his brother, pointing at a crib in a magazine, and looking at his husband, before the images blurred, and fizzled out. And there he was again, in that dark, black place, all alone again. And for the first time in what, from what he could tell, was years, Rugby heard something in that blackened void. He heard himself scream.
