In His Name

Chapter 81 - Taming death

His skin still screaming with the remembered heat of flames, Rosco's body instinctively jerks to escape it. The sound of glass shattering at his feet freezing him in place. Tears completely obscure his sight as the vision fades, so his trembling arm rises to clear it. He blinks one more time, terror pulling a whimper from his throat as he catches his first glimpse the sight before him. Cold, hollow eyes, looking down on him with indifference. Robes of shadow, that threaten and curl around him as if to swallow him into darkness. Hayden immediately retreats in on himself, shoulders rolled, and head lowered. The god's retreat dispels the illusion, the frighting image from the past no longer layered over the god he knows, but the feeling of being threatened still pulses through him undiminished, contrasting harshly with Rosco's own desperate wish to comfort him. His god is hurting, pain etched into every fiber of his being, but Hayden's stance is closed to him, and barrowed fear locks Rosco firmly in place, allowing him no closer. His trembling knees give out, unable to hold both Rosco and the storm of conflicting desires raging inside him. He drops hard atop stone floors and shards of glass. Pain of sliced skin registering dimly in his head. He doesn't know what to do, what to think, how he feels, his own emotions still muddied with the memories of another man from long ago. Hayden is at his side in seconds, but his hands hover just shy of touching him.

"I broke it." Rosco sniffles, finding his own voice among the other in his thoughts, fingers tracing around the sharp remnants of the vial, heavy tears splashing against the floor, "The- the m-memory?"

"It's gone," Hayden answers softly.

Guilt gives him the courage and the drive to lift his eyes to his god's, "I'm so sorry," his voice breaking under the weight of remorse, "You kept it for so long but five minutes in my hands and it's gone."

Whatever restraint Hayden was trying to exorcise breaks, sitting to gather the boy into his lap, wrapping his strong arms around him. The moment Rosco is safe again in Hayden's hands the ghost of memory flees him, clearing his mind. The dull pain in his knees vanishes, under the power of Hayden's magic, but the smears of red still mar the floor and stain his clothes, bright reminders of damage done.

"No, Rosco I am the one who should be sorry." Hayden insists, the arms around Rosco trembling as his god hides his face against Rosco's chest, "the years since that day may seem long to you, but in the grand scheme of things very little time has passed. That betrayal is as fresh to me as the day it occurred. I cherished him, thought him a friend, believed him to be faithful. Entrusted him with nearly everything I care for. And yet that mistake is still finding ways to torment that which I love." voice shaking with grief, "He wanted to bring the world to heel, alone his dreams were too grand to realize but the more he succeeded in the tasks I gave him, the more he saw his own power grow. And before I knew it, he saw himself as even over me. He used my name," practically growling, "to make the decrees that shaped the world into the one he envisioned, the very one that still haunts and plagues you," lifting his head to pear into Rosco's eyes, Hayden's blacked out with anger, the skin around them darkening to gray. "You need to understand," His god implores, giving him a gentle shake, "He didn't make those decrees because any of those things were truly bad or evil, not even he genuinely believed someone should be condemned for who they love, or how they were born, it was always a means of control, to set the many against the few and keep everyone afraid. Fear made him the most powerful man of his time and he would have said anything to maintain it." a shuttering breath escapes him, the color leaching from his eyes, though they don't return to their normal bright white, still slightly cloudy with emotion. His arms relax their hold, giving Rosco ample room and ability to scurry away, "I'm sorry," he whispers brokenly, "I understand if you wish to blame me for your hardships or are frightened now. I will take you home if you want, or back to Ben. Wherever you want to go. Just, do not think that because you were designed to complement me that you are compelled to stay with me, you have a choice, you will always have a choice, and it will be respected."

"It's- it's up to me?" Rosco asks quietly.

Hayden takes a deep breath and nods resolutely.

"Can I stay?" coughing softly to try and clear the vulnerability from his voice, "I mean, I want to stay, here, with you. I'm not scared."

His god's eyes wander him, examining for sincerity, for any hint of fear or coercion, "You were." Hayden counters with obvious hurt.

"That wasn't me," Rosco quickly insists with a shake of his head, "it was that other guy, the one in the memory, he was very afraid of you, and I could still feel his fear." Glancing up slightly, "what was his name?" his nose setting in a wrinkle, "wait, I can't remember the priests name either, it's like it was just noise."

"A name is a gift and a privilege," Hayden says darkly, "they have great power and value. When I destroyed my temple and my following, I revoked the names of everyone in it who had fallen to their evil. Their names no longer exist, not even in memory."

Rosco shivers despite himself, "Okay, you might be a little scary," he admits in a whisper which immediately darkens Hayden's eyes with devastation, "That doesn't mean I'm scared of you!" Rosco quickly tries to sooth, "I know you won't hurt me," he says softer, hands rising to cup his god's cheeks, "but objectively, you have to admit you can be a little scary."

Hayden hums a noise that could be taken as agreement, letting his eyes fall closed to nuzzle into Rosco's hands, "You're so relaxed," he muses, his low voice a little rough with the quiet rumble, "Are you truly not upset with me?"

Rosco almost doesn't hear, distracted by the intense craving to taste the lips of the frightening god, so soft and tame in his hands. "of course, I'm relaxed," he mumbles after instinctively licking his own, "You're holding me, I always feel calm when you hold me."

Hayden's blissful expression immediately sours with annoyance, his eyes flashing open with a tisk, "I'd meant not to touch you," he growls, removing Rosco from his lap, "I know it manipulates your emotions," fleeing his spot on the floor to back away a few steps, "You need to decide how you feel, free of that influence." Crossing his arms, closing himself off from Rosco again.

But Rosco didn't feel 'freed from influence' he felt disposed of, left alone on the floor and emotionally raw, tears welled again in his eyes and his lower lip quivered, "But," he whimpers more than says.

Hayden immediately caves in a panic, recollecting Rosco before a single drop could roll over his cheeks. "Don't look at me like that!" arranging Rosco in his lap. A large hand cupping the boy's face, thumb trailing lovingly over the soft skin, "It was for your own good."

Horribly embarrassed, Rosco hides his face in the curve of Hayden's shoulder, each hand clutching a fistful of Hayden's shirt in the subconscious fear he'll be abandoned again. Stray sobs cutting through as he tries to compose himself. But now that the tears are falling, he can't stop them, so much has happened in so little time and the boy hasn't had any time to processes any of it.

Ever patient and considerate, Hayden lets him cry, seemingly unbothered by the budding stain of tears soiling his shirt. But Rosco can feel his god's anxiety growing with every passing second, in the way his hands falter against his back when a heavy sob shakes him, or the increasingly tight coil of the muscles in his arms and neck.

"That was the wrong thing to do, wasn't it?" Hayden asks softly after a while.

Rosco can't help but chuckle, nodding against his god's shoulder. It had been an exceptionally long day and he didn't want to think anymore, he has a lot to think about, but he's completely drained of the energy necessary to do so. Clearly proven by the fact he'd dissolved into a sobbing mess in front of someone he never wanted to look so pathetic for. Hayden tenses further at his response and Rosco feels a twinge of sympathy for having distressed his so much.

"Tell me what you need." It's phrased as almost a demand, but Hayden's tone betrays his pleading, the lost and desperate words muttered quietly in his ear. A molten warmth pools again in Rosco's stomach, enticed by the comfort of obeying an order and the thought of a god gone tame in his hands.

"Take me to bed."