“Letting them in, letting them go”
((Screw my crying, aching heart. I’m making a headcanon based on this post and no one can stop me.))
“It’s the only way that you can escape. Just relax.”
“This will work… I promise.”
As your eyes slowly blur out from their phantom auras one more time, you get a strange, heavy sensation in your chest, as if you’re falling, falling, falling…
What feels like an eternity later, your eyelids slowly open for the first and last time.
You feel like you’re made of stone as a mirage of cyan and scarlet dances before you. At first, you’re not sure if you can even move, but slowly, slowly, something new begins to rise…
It’s in your mind, or what’s left of it now. Something new… something strange, as if your thoughts aren’t only yours.
They’re not, two surrounding thoughts tell you, as if one came from either side of your head. It’s us, (Y/N). We’re here. With you. Within you and without you.
And in a slow, hazy way, that makes something become abundantly clear to you.
You are no longer what you used to be. None of the three of you are.
And you find an acceptance.
A chandelier emerges finally to your sight, and you can sense the hard, cold floor on your back.
With the power of three within you, you rise on shaky legs once more.
“O-oh no, no!”
A familiar voice bids you turn your head, and you see him there. The Colonel, trembling in his boots, wringing Damien’s cane nervously in his hands.
“It’s okay,” he continues, standing quickly in what looks like disbelief and holding out a nervous hand toward you.
You walk slowly toward him. His breaths catch in his chest as he slowly lowers his arm in shock.
“I thought you were dead,” he says softly and quickly, as if saying it any slower would make it true. His lips quiver, then he corrects himself in horiffied elation. “I– I– I mean, of course, you’re not dead! N– how could you be dead?”
His eyes crinkle into a smile with emerging hysteria. You still have no voice.
“I– I– I wouldn’t have killed you! I– I didn’t kill you!”
He sets the cane down, but his crazed muttering continues.
“I… of course! I didn’t kill anybody!”
He laughs and it couldn’t hurt you more.
“I–! I didn't– it was all a joke!” he finally shouts, and his voice carries through the whole now-empty house. “Of course, it was all a joke!”
He steps closer to you, and you feel a combined pain unlike anything you’ve ever felt.
“Were you in on this!?”
You watch, essentially helpless, as the last shreds of his sanity dissolve before your own eyes.
He falls back a few steps, the shakiness returning to his legs as his voice fills with some form of mortified relief.
“Did Damien put you up to this!? Of course he did!” The Colonel calls out once more, not even stable enough to look back at you anymore. “DAMIEN! Where are you, you rapscallion?”
He stumbles away, nearly falling with every step in his hysterical gait. His voice carries back to you, and the words pierce you harder than that bullet ever could.
“Where are you? Celine! Oh, it’s time to come out now! Oh, it was good, it was good! You almost had me!”
Inside, you feel numb, yet… both sides of you are wailing. You can hear nothing of them, you can see nothing of them… but you know that Damien and Celine have broken at what you just witnessed.
Your body turns slightly, and your hand picks up the cane that the Colonel had set down. You can feel Damien change within you, somehow…
Your eyes fall on the mirror to find that your appearance has mostly taken after his.
And you can see his pain. The profound love in his soul that now has a reason to hate the one man who made this happen. The knowledge that forever no longer will the Colonel have anyone to trust, anyone to love him for who he is, anyone that will see him as anything more than a danger.
And, looking yourself and Damien and Celine in the eyes all at once, you make a simple choice.
You can sense both of them freeze at either side, confused.
Go to him, you tell them once more. It’s okay.
He needs you.
And you let go, fading from that broken shell’s grasp into nothing more than thoughts.
After a moment of hesistation, the reflection in the mirror cracks his neck, and the glass shatters with it, keeping you there.
We’re sorry. We’ll find you again one day.
But you’ve accepted.
It’s all right, you respond, knowing they can’t hear you anymore, but doing it anyway.
I’m sure you will.
The dark figure walks away without you, the love in his heart burning bright as if flickering goodbye, and then he’s gone.
And so are you.