i'll be there | cyan [c]

♕ || the past

A/N: this chapter isn't going to be to important. it's mostly regarding OCs featured in the story. OCs in this story- and future stories- will probably play a larger role than originally intended. if anyone has any questions (regarding anything), don't hesitate to ask.

also- just so you guys know, you can ask me to write things in. as long as what you're asking isn't something totally crazy or a ship i don't like, chances are, i'll write what you want to see, lmao. i feel like you fucks are just too shy to ask. but for a few of you who have asked certain things of me- in this story or others,- keep in mind that some of you will definitely be seeing the things you've requested. en mouvement, les amis c:

- IN THIS CHAPTER -
ITALICS = THIRD PERSON.
REGULAR = FIRST PERSON.
—

     The air felt cold. Colder than normal, Mags had noted. He pursed his lips, willing himself to look the other warlock dead in the eyes. He had memorized his features- his pale skin and light eyes, his messy jet black hair and even the bags under his eyes- Barnabas had always looked exhausted.

     Mags felt numb, though. He didn't feel as if he were looking at the warlock he'd fallen in love with. Not anymore. He twisted his wedding ring on his finger. "Do you hate me, Bats?" He asked bluntly, heart pounding in his chest. "Is it something I've done wrong?"

     Mags eyed the ring on Barnabas' finger, the only ring he ever wore.

     Barnabas' mouth twitched at that. "No, it's nothing that you've done." He said. Not even his voice, Mags had thought, sounded like him. Not really. "We have forever," Barnabas began to speak again. "You and I, we have eternity. Look me in the eyes and tell me that isn't what you want. You know that I love you very much," he said.

     It felt strange to speak so seriously with the Barnabas. He looked up a bit. Barnabas wasn't much taller than him. Six foot three, Mags thought, of course I remember how tall you are.

     "Of course it's what I want," Mags' voice had to have cracked. It was snowing, and in just a few hours, the crimson splattered snow would be covered with a fresh new blanket. No more blood, no more death. Not today. "This isn't you."

     "It's always been me," Barnabas sounded wary. "You love me, don't you, Magsy?" He reached a hand out, and Mags didn't budge at the feeling of Barnabas' hand on his cheek. He felt warm, just like he always did. "Yes," Mags said, "I do love you.." he said, voice wavering.

     Barnabas stepped closer, sliding his hands around the other warlock's waist and pulling him close. "Then why won't you join me? Think of what we could have, Magsy.. The whole world and nothing to fear. There was a time when the humans had so much respect for us.. look at what it's gone to. Does it not bother you," he said, "that magic is something that is no longer looked up upon?"

     Mags' heart had long since sunk. "Why do I care what they look up to when all I care about is you? Why should it bother me?" He said, turning his head to look away from Barnabas, saying, "Just look at the mess you've made. You can't do things like this," he said, "this isn't the you I fell in love with?"

     For a moment, Mags could have sworn he had elicited a brief flicker of emotion from his husband. Barnabas deadpanned again, though. "If you aren't with me, Magsy," he sighed, sounding bored. "then you're against me."

     Mags found himself stumbling backward clumsily into the snow, fingertips sparking pale green. His nose twitched and he looked up at the man he thought he loved. Don't do this, he wanted to say. I trusted you.

     Movements no longer his own, Mags raised a sparking hand to his throat. Barnabas seemed just as numb as Mags felt. "You've made your choice," he said coldly. Don't make me do this to myself. Don't let us drift apart like this because of a bunch of silly humans. You bullheaded bastard. I've lived forever, Mags thought, but it's not enough. I don't want to go like this. Speak up. Say something. Please.

     Barnabas knew that an original warlock could only die by their own hand. Die via suicide, he knew. But, he found himself smirking at the thought, I could kill you easily. I just have to give you a little push.

     Heart thudding wildly, Mags closed his eyes, all of them. "I can't even look at you when you're acting like this," he spoke shakily. "I was a fool to trust you. Look at where that's gotten me. You're having a temper tantrum like a child."

     Barnabas' expression didn't change. "What you and I had," he droned, "I cherished every moment of it. It's a shame you don't feel the same. I'll miss you when you're gone. I loved you."

     Mags scoffed, feeling the uncomfortable heat of the sparks at his throat. "No you won't. You never loved me for a minute, Bats, not if you're willing to throw it away like this. Please.."

     The air felt cold. Colder than normal.

     "What I found in you, Magsy, was something that's for a long time been lost in myself." Barnabas looked away. "I do love you," he said.

     Everything went black.

[ first person again ]

     I staggered backward, and Mags jerked his hand away with wide eyes, looking as if I'd slapped him. He didn't have to say anything for me to know that he had definitely tried to block me from his memories; he just hadn't been able to. I thought I could hear his heart beat.

     "You weren't supposed to-.." he trailed off, raising a hand to adjust the scarf around his neck. "How did you manage that?" He carried on, steadying his voice but looking away from me. "I couldn't keep you out of my head."

     I bit my lip. "I don't know how I do it. It just happens sometimes when I touch people, and I-.. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry for, ah, intruding.."

     He waved a hand, still avoiding looking at me. "It's fine," he said dismissively. "Now at least you understand why Barnabas and I aren't on good terms."

     I thought back to the name Devin had said in referring to Mags. Magdala "Cohen-Priest," I blurted out. "That's- was, I mean,- your name. Because you and Barnabas were married? His name's Cohen. Barnabas Cohen, right..?" I said.

     Mags seemed tense, but he nodded. "That's correct. We're still together," he muttered, "just.. taking a break." He told me. My jaw went slack.

     "You guys seem to have a-.. I dunno.. I'd say it's an abusive relationship," I grumbled.

     The lightbulb in the lamp made a noise and burnt out, and Mags' eyes looked wide. "Barnabas has never abused me," he sounded offended. "I know he cares about me," he sighed, pulling his scarf down a bit so I could see a series of scars that wrapped around his neck. "He let me live," he said.