Below the Mythical Surface (Completed)

No Rest for the Weary

Not exactly on the other side of town, but far enough away to feel the distance, Link, for once, couldn't sleep. The ability to close his eyes and stop thinking usually came easily to him, and it wasn't until that moment that he realized how he'd taken advantage of this gift. Rhett had commented on it throughout their lives, taking candid sleepy photos and mentioning how jealous he was that Link could basically "teleport" across the country during a long flight. Oh, how he'd love to teleport to a time when his life wasn't in turmoil.

It hadn't been long since his last conversation with Rhett, but it hadn't been a happy one. He tried to stay quiet during the car ride back from their trip, occupying his time with staring blankly out of the window and curling his fingers away from Rhett's when reached for. And now every time he closed his eyes, he saw Rhett's; sad and rejected. The only words exchanged when he clambered from the car were, "See ya," and the weight of not having told Rhett that he loved him weighed heavy on his chest. Still though, he had more important things to worry about than a seedy love affair. A family that needed him, and he was determined to do right by them.

So instead of picking up his phone and desperately calling the voice he wanted to hear, he stayed firm on his back, looking to the ceiling for some sort of reprieve. And then looking to his wife, peacefully sleeping, blissfully unaware that he'd bedded someone that was only meant to be a friend.

Why, why couldn't he just sleep? A dreamless sleep that made him feel as if he'd sunk so far into the mattress that he and his issues could never see the light of day again. It wasn't too much to ask for, really. Had he made his karma so ridiculously negative that he couldn't even be spared one minute of reprieve? Yes, of course he had. He's done the unthinkable, and maybe his laying awake was fates way of punishing him. He deserved it. He could live with never sleeping again if it was a small form of repentance for what he'd done.

And the irony of it all was that the person he'd normally tell all of these deep seeded self hatred thoughts to was the one person he shouldn't tell. The one person that he should be avoiding. But that just wasn't how they worked. They never had, and a large part of him reckoned it never would.

His resolve could only last so long, and judging by the lit screen in his hand, he'd made it a little longer than he'd ever thought possible. But maybe if he'd ever hope to sleep again, he'd need to at least leave things on a halfway decent note. He could cut romantic ties with Rhett and still maintain their strained relationship. It would take a lot of self control but he could do it. He had to do it. And so with a quick few presses of his thumb, he was poised to press call.

He padded down the darkened hallway and toward the stairs, intent on heading to his office. The office where not long ago he'd spent such a filthy night on the phone, but this would be a different call. One meant to both burn and build bridges. He just had to find that delicate balance.

"Hello?" Rhett's gravelly voice answered the second time Link called, his voice laden with sleep. Link felt bad for waking him, and maybe his wife as well, but he couldn't hold it in.

"Can you talk?" The words were harder to get out than he had ever imagined, forced and cracking with each syllable.

"Hang on." A sound of shuffling and a few moments passed by before he finally got the go ahead to speak.

"I hate how we left things," Link told him, mustering all of the sincerity he could find.

"Yeah. I do, too. I was an ass."

"Generally speaking, yes," Link giggled back, the his heavy shoulders lightening the slightest bit.

"S'at why you called? To insult me?"