Fun fact: if you include Inception's prologue, this is the 100th chapter of TLS.
I'm not sure how I've written that many or how y'all have read that many, but hey, thanks for sticking around!
Enjoy. Love ya <3 ~ Owl
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-Sapnap's POV-
Nighttime always feels oddly quiet in the forest.
I think a part of me is still on edge from the city, used to the repetitive nature of never quite being safe. That overhanging thought that you have to be prepared for any possible ambushes makes it near impossible to sleep soundly anymore, and the effects are starting to take their toll on me.
Karl on the other hand, seems quite content here. He's curled up under a pile of what looks to be both his and my blankets, looking too comfortable for me to even debate disturbing him. From my view, his hair covers most of his face, light curls a disheveled mess.
He fell asleep a while ago, wanting at first to listen in to what Tubbo is discussing with Skeppy and Darryl before deciding it's prying into someone else's business and resorting to this instead. I've tried to do so since too, yet found myself laying here aimlessly, left wondering how he managed.
I guess it's easier to sleep when you know someone is there with you. Though having someone watching over the place never made me feel any safer, most likely due to my trust in people fading rapidly when I left Clay behind.
The sudden realisation that Karl must therefore feel safe with me is daunting yet reliving at the same time, and I smile giddily with pride at the thought. I don't care that Clay and George and everyone else is here too. I'm the one right here, right now.
It's progress, surely, no matter how small.
I still don't know where Karl and I stand. By now he's got all his memories back, which is what he has been waiting for. That was what prolonged the initial confrontation, as well as allowing him the time he needed to adjust back to living in this world again.
I'm not sure how well the latter has gone just yet. Sometimes I think he's okay, seeming to find contentment in the new life he's learning to adjust to. Other times he looks lost. So out of place, disoriented and confused, almost like he's expecting to return to whatever he had before what happened to him.
That's what bothers me the most.
The fact that Karl can't seem to let go yet.
I can't tell if it's a lack of acceptance or denial that keeps him from it. I've seen this process happen before, watched George reclaim control over and make sense of his amnesia, and Clay grow back into the best friend I used to know. But Karl's seems so different, trying to let go of what's now effectively a past life for him.
It must've been hard. To return to a world full of unfamiliar people, with no control over any of it, and be expected to adjust to what others see as normal. I keep telling myself that the whole experience must be daunting for him, that I need to be patient and help him through this however I can.
Yet half the time, I wonder if I'm helping. Wonder if I'm worth anything more than the label of soulmate, and if Karl would've kept me around back then had I been anything, anyone else.
I know I mean more than that to him now, that he's past the point of feeling only inclined to love me. Yet I don't know what sort of love that is yet, and I can only hope the system knows what it's doing by pairing us together.
Despite this mix of emotion, I still feel loved. In some crazy, undeserved way on my part, considering what I caused. That thought still remains in the back of my head, the constant denial of if I already lost my chance.
Karl told me I hadn't. That it didn't matter, as long as I learnt from it.
I want to believe that I have.
It's made easier by the fact I've managed to drown out the malicious side since that day, realise my mistakes and hate everything about what I almost made happen. So I have to have learnt something, even if it doesn't fix it.
But I feel like I could.
Maybe I'm like Karl, in that way. In the way we both have a piece missing, and are trying to work it out before starting another puzzle. And maybe that'll work for Karl, but I know it couldn't for me.
Not when the piece I'm missing is him.
I felt whole the day he told me he loved me. When I realised that the system was right, and this boy was what I was missing. The one who lays beside me now, blissfully unaware of the storm in my head. Through that mess I still watch over him though, using the sense of purpose to fill that hole created by the mess I made.
And maybe that's ridiculous. Fuelled only by my fear of losing him, returning to that emptiness I've feared since I felt something different to it.
I want that again.
I want to hold that boy in my arms, feel like the hell I put myself through and was put through by others, in the end was worth it. I want to have someone to really call my soulmate, my boyfriend, and learn what I've missed out on all those years.
I've always wanted to love them. My soulmate, him, the boy who is finally within reach. Know what it's like to kiss him, have him feel safe with me, prove to him that he's loved and that this can be the new normal for us both, something we can happily get used to together.
But only if he's ready, and that's what I want the most.
Quickly, I drag myself back out of my dreamworld, faintly hearing the sound of movement close by. I'm soon made aware that it's Karl, whose curled into himself further in what now looks like discomfort. The once peaceful expression has since been drained from his features, and his eyes screw up tighter against whatever is happening inside his head.
Gingerly, I rest my hand in his hair, cringing when the action at first makes him shiver. But slowly, he relaxes into the touch, and I let my hand sink into the fluffy curls, tangling fingers into strands before combing through them gently.
His bleary eyes flutter briefly, and he reaches out a desperate hand, scrambling around for something to hold onto. I present my own in hopes it'll suffice, and he clutches it tightly, digging pale crescent moons into my palms. Though the sudden sting of pain doesn't bother me in the moment, too intently focused on him, helping him as much as I can.
I think it's working for a second, when he turns so suddenly quiet I wonder if he's fallen peacefully asleep again. Yet I'm proven wrong when he begins to shake, and I quickly but gently pull the trembling boy into my arms. I settle him comfortably in my lap, wrapping the blankets around him haphazardly and my arms over the top.
Quiet sobs begin to echo in the dark room, muffled against the layers of fabric Karl seems to have resorted to burying himself in. Streaks of tears slide down his cheeks, glinting in the tiny spots of light.
"Hey, it's alright," I tell him, tracing slow, circular movements against his hoodie as I try to find the right words to say. "You're safe here, you're safe."
I repeat those words over and over, hoping they reach through his bleary haze. Nothing seems to work until I notice a familiar anxious habit of his, and his hands start scraping at his own neck.
"Hey, this isn't then," I tell the panicked boy, trying to keep my voice as even as possible despite the alarm in my head. "You're okay, this isn't that time. You're okay."
The words slowly begin to seep in, clawed panic slowing to nothing more than feeble scratches. I cringe at the mark in his neck, the pale skin now scraped raw and littered with tiny little marks. Gently, I lace my hand over his, caressing the back of his palms and willing his fingers to slacken. He shakes again in his sleep, wanting so badly to try again.
"Let go, Karl. Let go."
Thankfully, I begin to feel his grip loosen under mine. I take the opportunity to guide his hands away, threading our fingers together to stop any further damage being accidentally done.
His eyes flutter sleepily, a tired, pale hazel shade beneath. At last he begins to stir properly, gaze darting around the dimly lit room in search of an explanation. He settles on gazing at me, the confused and pained look in his eyes evident he knows enough. They glisten with the ghosts of tears, and erupt again before he can stop them.
Just like last time we were this close, he buries his head into my shoulder wordlessly. I don't press him for an explanation, deciding to let him get used to the comfort. So I spend those long moment providing it, doing whatever I can to make him feel better.
"It's alright," I whisper to him again, keeping my voice low to make sure I don't startle him. Tears soak into my shirt, and I'm now having to hold back my own. It's awful to see him like this, so broken by this world. "You're okay, Karl," I hum quietly, and he nods silently into my shoulder.
"You're safe here, safe with me."