curtwen oneshots

the blood never leaves- pt 2

owen didnt know what to do. 

as he killed every single chimera agent, one by one, the blood followed him.

tonight, another hotel room. owen tried to ignore the blood on his hands, but he couldnt. 

now, as he felt the cold water from the shower drench his clothes, he closed his eyes. willing himself somewhere else. willing the blood off his body. and he let himself cry

he let himself cry until he couldnt anymore. because the blood followed him wherever he went

 because he was a murderer

every day was another hotel room

rinse and repeat

every day

until there were no more chimera agents to kill

but their blood still stayed

owen carvour had nothing. no one.

owen carvour, the best spy in history

the dma, deadliest man alive

he had no job 

and no Curt.

or so he thought

curt had followed owen back to the hotel, just wanting to be able to see him again.

he never expected to see a crying owen, crumpled up in the shower, clinging curt's old jacket. he

 didnt know what he had been expecting. but a crying owen?

seeing the man he loved, always so strong, now crying. he didnt know what to do

so, he sat next to him, not speaking, even if owen could hear him, what could curt say?

curt followed owen, never leaving his side. not again. he won't let him down again.

every day, owen would sit in a bathtub as the shower ran, letting the blood run down the drain. every day, he would rub his skin raw as he cried over blood that curt could not see

until one day, there was no more blood. not any visible to curt. still, owen would rub his skin over and over, crying, begging for the blood to go away.

curt couldn't stand seeing him like this

curt wanted to reach out, he needed to. owen was in pain. his skin was raw from the scrubbing. he couldn't let this happen. he couldn't

as owen sat under the cold fountain of water, scrubbing, mumbling over and over as he cried. curt couldn't take it anymore. he put his hand on owen's back, gently, and rubbed soft circles

he didn't know if it had worked at first.

he only thought to do this from the times he had had sensory overloads after missions gone sour. owen had always been there to help. owen had always been there for him. he needed to be with owen now.

he didn't even know if owen felt it, until he looked up, and his eyes met owen's.

"what is this?" owen's voice was bitter. "you're not fucking real. you're just here to make me suffer, aren't you? the famous Owen Carvour, DMA, being laughed at by his hallucination. go on. laugh." his voice was filled with hate. but his eyes told a different story.

"o-"

"and don't even think of saying the whole 'i left you in that facility to die' schpiel, that got old after 4 years. go on. say what you have to say, 'Curtis'."

curt didn't know what to say. he didn't know what he could say.

"curtis mega, i can't believe he had the audacity to die on me. that man-" the venom in his voice died, but only for a moment, back as soon as he looked back up at curt. "and you stand here, acting like he would, when you're just going to leave like he did." he was crying. "because you left me, Curtis Mega. you left me. I LOVED YOU. DIDNT THAT MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU? WHY DIDNT YOU SAVE YOURSELF? I LOVE YOU-" his voice finally broke. he'd never told the real curt those words. and he'd never heard curt say them back.

that night, owen fell asleep in the bathtub, in soggy clothes. curt never left his side. 

"i love you too, O."