Time Warp: Ghosts from the Past (Oriel)[Trigger Warning]

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Eventually. If it did, if Phoenix’s memory did come back….what would happen? He’d realize how much Oriel had changed, how much he was no longer the boy that Phoenix once loved. He’d be plagued by the memories of his own childhood, of how he battled against his addictions only to fall right back into them once Oriel was gone from his life. He’d remember…was it really the best thing for Phoenix to remember? He might want them now, but what if his memories broke him even more? What if he couldn’t handle them?

Oriel didn’t want to lie to Phoenix, but he didn’t want their past to cause him some unnecessary misery. That was probably what Gryphon was thinking when he refused to tell Phoenix the truth.

Didn’t mean that Oriel was going to forgive the winged-meta for keeping them apart.

Oriel managed a small smile of amusement at the things that Phoenix did remember. “That’s something, at least.” Little things were good.

Oriel nodded, hesitating, not knowing how else to interact with this man who’d come back into his life so suddenly. Hold his hand? That was easy. But what was he allowed to do? Caress his cheek like he used to? Kiss him? Did Oriel want to? It would be absurd for him not to, but the truth was that he couldn’t tell.

Oriel shook it off. “Alright, we’ll go.” He turned out and wrapped one arm over Phoenix’s shoulder, pointing out in the direction of his mother’s small home. “Just stay close. It’s not far.”

It’d take less than ten minutes of walking before they finally reached the two bedroom house. Hay-lin was probably still out giving her evening dance lessons. She wouldn’t be home for a while. Oriel put the key in the lock and opened the door.

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The tiny smile that passed over Oriel's features caught Phoenix's attention, and he stared at it for a moment before shaking his head and looking away. It had looked... Foreign on the apathetic man's face. And yet Phoenix found he hoped he'd be able to get him to do it again. "Yeah, it's somethin'..." he replied softly. "I'm just hopin' comin' back t'this town will help."

Despite the fact that this man was nearly a stranger to Phoenix, the way Oriel interacted with him, with such familiarity, so easily and selflessly taking his hands to keep them from freezing, made the desperate-to-trust-someone pixie feel like he could, indeed, trust him. Who else in this town could he lean on if he needed someone? So Phen didn't really care what he did, so long as Oriel didn't hurt him.

However, Phoenix had also lost all belief he'd ever find someone to truly love him. Who would want him, after all he'd done and been through? He, too, may have been decent-looking once, but the effect of long-term drug use and the stress of trying to quit them had taken their toll on his body; he was far from any type of attractive, he knew.

He blinked as Oriel's arm came around him, and after only a moment of hesitation, nestled himself tighter against the man's warm side. "Aren't you cold?" he asked softly. Obviously he wasn't, but Phoenix couldn't help but be envious. "I wish my heater worked as well as yours..." He smiled weakly and tucked his chin down further into his jacket as they walked.

Phoenix kept quiet as they walked, not knowing what to say. He still had a bunch of questions, but they were all so overwhelming, he didn't know where to start, or if Oriel would even be willing to answer. When they reached the house, he waited impatiently for the door to open; once it was, he shuffled inside and shuddered thankfully in the heat. Wherever he was told to go to put his few belongings, Phoenix would obey; he found a small couch that he assumed he could sleep on and deposited his things, along with his giant puffy jacket, which he laid delicately on the arm of the furniture. Underneath, he wore a long-sleeved shirt that was several sizes too big for him, and draped halfway down his thighs. Phoenix looked around uncertainly; would it be too much for him to ask if he could take a hot shower to warm up?

"This place is, um, it's nice," he said quietly. "Th... Thank you. For lettin' me stay."

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“It might.” Oriel couldn’t say for certain, however. He didn’t know exactly how those things worked. The most he remembered was watching a movie a long time ago about a rich woman who lost her memory and was tricked into being the wife of a poor man and his several kids; her memory came back at a mere glimpse of her fiancee and she didn’t even notice for a full minute later. As if nothing had changed or been wrong. That was just a movie though. Clearly, things like that didn’t happen in real life; seeing Oriel hadn’t triggered even a single memory in Phoenix, at least none that he could tell.

Still, Oriel wanted his old lover to be somewhat optimistic. Even if he never remembered their past, they were here now, together, and could make new memories. Maybe Phoenix could heal the wounds that time had inflicted on the other man, like he’d done for the boy all those years ago?

Years of forcing oneself to not care, to not feel, had left the ink manipulator struggling with being able to conjure even the simplest of emotions, much less the cluster of complexities that nearly overwhelmed him as a child.

One thing that his parole officer, his counselor, tried to do was to help him re-learn how to interact with other people. What was okay, what wasn’t okay. Social norms. Maybe even pretend to empathize. Oriel bet neither of them could have accounted for this sort of reunion.

“No,” he replied. Oriel didn’t get cold easily. But he knew Phoenix did. He’d always known. Which was why he offered his own body heat to the shorter pixie.

“You’re welcome,” he said with a nod. He motioned down the short hall. “My room’s over there.” Strangely, it never occurred to Oriel that Phoenix might be more comfortable on the couch than in his own room. Even Oriel could be absent-minded when caught up in nostalgia. Oriel headed to the small kitchen and immediately started firing up the stove to make some hot chocolate.

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Honestly? Phoenix had a hard time remembering what he'd been told about how his amnesia might wear off. It seemed he was suffering from anterograde amnesia as well - he'd always had a bad memory, but some days he even forgot conversations he'd had only the day before, or faces he'd already met. So all he could do was hope.

That was why he hoped coming back to this town, and now finding this person from his past, could finally help him get out of this mess and do more than those at the facility could.

He stood a little uncertainly in the living room, just looking around at various things and not really taking in any of it. Phen was still slightly overwhelmed at the entire thing. "Oh, um, okay," he replied, blinking as he glanced where Oriel motioned. A wave of fatigue hit the pixie as the other man went to the kitchen, and he finally sat down on the couch, hesitating only a moment before he laid down. He didn't know how long he'd be allowed to stay here, he realized, so perhaps he should try to... sleep... while he could...

It could just be a little nap. Even five minutes, Oriel could wake him up when he came back. Phoenix pulled his jacket over him like a blanket and closed his eyes; like it often did anymore, sleep hit him like a wall. He fell unconscious in barely a minute.

Unfortunately, it also came with the dreams that he always forgot upon awakening. A closing cell door... A crying, screaming voice, which sounded strangely like his own... Spray after spray of dust, filling his lungs and smothering them in their sweet, cruel clouds... Oriel's face, younger, brighter, laughing at something dumb that Phoenix had said and reaching out to ruffle the older boy's hair, but the hand became a claw and instead wrapped around Phen's throat, squeezing until he gasped for breath and blackness overcame him again before the next onset of images...

In the waking world, Phoenix's body was shivering, his eyes moving rapidly under his lids as he whimpered and grimaced in his sleep. His face was half-buried under the jacket, which he gripped with a deathly force so that his knuckles were white.

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When Phoenix flopped down on the couch instead of going to Oriel’s room….Oriel was hit with that sudden reality. Even though he knew it, he’d even told himself that he shouldn’t expect anything, a prickle of disappointment settled in his stomach. Disappointment that it wasn’t, in fact, going to be like it used to be so easy, and disappointment in himself for thinking that it might be for even the briefest of moments.

Another sigh escaped his lips and Oriel continued with making the hot chocolate. That was Phoenix’s favorite still, right? What if he was wrong?

It didn’t matter. By the time Oriel was done making it(he just decided to go with it), Phoenix was already collapsed on the sofa, sleeping as if he hadn’t slept in years.

Phoenix had never passed out so easily like that before, without Oriel by his side. Back then, Phoenix had even been known to wake the moment Oriel left his side, no matter how quietly and subtlely Oriel tried to be.

Was Phoenix that independent now? Guess he’d have to be, with Oriel having been gone from his life for so long.

Oriel set the mug of chocolate on the coffee table and sat back in the nearby recliner with his own, sipping at it sparingly as he watched the pixie breathe deeply in his slumber. It must have been about ten minutes before he noticed that there was something unwell with Phoenix.

Nightmares? Oriel got those sometimes too. Still.

He settled his cup on the table and knelt beside the thin, shivering man. “Phoenix,” he spoke his name softly, blinking his eyes over the man’s strained face. Oriel placed a hand on the sleeping man’s shoulder and gave him a gentle shake. Would he wake up?

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Phoenix hadn't always fallen asleep so easily. After he'd started going to the facility, at least. Being in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people... It was enough to keep anyone up until they simply collapsed from exhaustion, or the people working there gave him medicine to induce slumber. And if that wasn't bad enough, night terrors often made him wake screaming in a cold sweat, but when he tried to recall what had been scaring him so much, it drifted away like a wisp of smoke.

Eventually, he'd just gotten used to it. Well, as much as he could. Phoenix always had a sense of dread when he went to sleep, but since he never remembered what it was that scared him anyway, he tried not to let it keep him from resting when he could.

For the moment, though, his mind was a battlefield. Memories clashed against one another, warping into false realities, each one more terrible than the next. In one, Oriel hadn't killed someone, but rather, Phoenix had killed Oriel, and he'd been the one thrown in jail... Gryphon's face, laughing and leering at him with eyes of a demon, taunting him with truths he'd never tell... Phoenix trapped in a tiny glass box, with no way to escape as water poured in and stifled his terrified screams...

He didn't feel Oriel's hand upon his shoulder; the only indication he gave was his body jerking at the contact, his eyes still closed with no signs of waking. A few tiny "no's" escaped past cracked lips, as sweat dampened his forehead and his limbs convulsed.

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When Phoenix didn’t stir and only responded with more shivers and shakes, Oriel thought…he had to do something. Oriel remembered what nightmares were like as a child. Even now, he still had them and would often wake in a pool of his own sweat, his heart racing as if he’d just run ten miles. And then the images would fade into the distant corners of his mind as he slowly, gradually calmed down.

Oriel didn’t remember his nightmares completely either. He just knew that they were…disturbing. They always had been. Always about his worst fears and anxieties. Some suppressed memory of his early childhood, maybe someone reminding Oriel exactly what he could expect out of his future just because of what he couldn’t do and not what he could do.

He wouldn’t know what it was that Phoenix was dreaming about. Oriel only had his own experiences to attempt to empathize with. It generally seemed to work. At the moment, however, it was a simple matter of: Phoenix looked upset and distressed. Something needed to change. He needed to be….comforted…?

Oriel slipped his thick arms beneath that frail body and slowly lifted him up, cradling the thin man like an overgrown child, resting Phoenix’s head against his chest so that his forehead was just centimeters beneath Oriel’s stubbled chin.

He walked his old lover to the bedroom, set him on the bed, and laid down beside him. Oriel watched Phoenix quietly with his dark brown eyes until they closed themselves. He kept his arm wrapped loosely over Phoenix’s thin torso.

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The images were all blurring together now, but still Phoenix quivered, oblivious to the presence of his past lover beside him. Even the abstract visuals that didn't make sense just reminded him of the times he'd been so drugged up on his dust that nothing made sense anyway. It was horrible and seemed it would never end...

"Stop it," he whimpered out. It was barely a whisper.

Phen stirred slightly as Oriel's arms wrapped around him and picked him up, but he didn't wake. His shivering went down a little, but he was still suffering from the nightmares, as was clear on his tight, tense features. His fingers clutched unconsciously into the other man's shirt, threatening to tug.

He remained passive to the world as he was laid upon the bed. It wasn't until Oriel's arm slipped its way around the pixie that he finally stopped shaking. Whether it was the warmth, or the feeling of someone's presence, or something else, the nightmares slowly faded to black and Phoenix was finally granted a dreamless slumber. He breathed more evenly in his old boyfriend's arms.

Phoenix would wake sometime late in the night. Or perhaps it was very early morning - whatever it was, it was still very dark when the man's eyes slowly opened and squinted into the unfamiliar, warm darkness. It took him a long time to remember where he was... And also to register the arm wrapped around him. Phoenix squeaked and jumped, not used to such contact, but froze upon seeing the sleeping man's face beside him. Who was this again?

Oriel. Yes, this was Oriel. Somehow, Phen had ended up on his bed... Which he didn't know how to feel about. It was clear the man wasn't going to do him harm - it would have been very easy to kill him off in his sleep - but Phoenix was shaken as to why he'd brought him into his own room. He... He didn't belong here. He hardly knew this man.

"U-um," he stammered into the dark, making no move to remove himself from the arm around him. "I... I gotta go t'the bathroom..." Phoenix had no idea if Oriel would hear him, or if he was too far into sleep himself. And the questions that had been rolling around Phen's mind as to who this man was were starting to get a little more clear and definitive.

And Phoenix didn't know how to feel about that.

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Oriel didn’t realize that the smile that Phoenix had witnessed and wished to see again had been present on his face throughout much of his watching, the man reminiscing in his memories of when they were both still boys. How many times had he done exactly this when they’d first gotten together? How many times until they were finally broken apart?

Oriel drifted into his own dreams thinking about those days long past, stirring only briefly every so often during the night, if only to get more comfortable and unconsciously bring Phoenix in closer to his warmth.

The man was still only half asleep when Phoenix finally stirred awake and attempted to pull himself from Oriel’s embrace. Oriel groaned and rolled onto his back, like he’d done so many times in his youth, to allow Phoenix the freedom to go do his business with the expectation that he’d return in a few minutes.

“Mmm…don’t take too long, Squish….” he mumbled, balancing on the line between his hard reality and the sweet pleasure of his dreams.

Oriel lazily scratched his scruff then rested his hand again on his chest. He hadn’t a chance to change after returning home with his ex-lover, so was still laying with slight discomfort in his tank and his work slacks. His breathing became deep and regular again.

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Phoenix heaved himself up off the bed as he was allowed the freedom to move, letting out a breathy sigh as he prepared to fumble around in the dark until he found the bathroom. However, the mumble that Oriel emitted made the pixie stop in his tracks.

Squish.

Why did... Why did that feel so familiar...

It was just a silly word, and a seemingly random one at that. Why would someone call another person 'Squish'? Still, the name settled oddly in Phoenix's stomach, telling him that he should know the significance behind it. Maybe... Maybe if he heard it again...

With an unsettled mind, Phen stumbled around the house until he found the bathroom, flicking on the light and taking care of his business... Slowly. He needed time to think about what he was going to do when he got back. Should he go back to the bed? Or return to the couch? Oriel obviously had wanted him with him... For some reason or another. When Phoenix finished washing (and getting his first good look at himself in a mirror in a while - damn, his hair had gotten so long, it curled around his shoulders and his bangs nearly covered his eyes entirely if he didn't brush them away), he carefully found his way back to Oriel's room.

Phen hesitated upon reaching the bedside. Should he? He felt more rested than he often did after sleeping alone....

Eventually, the man stiffly laid back down, making no move to get close to Oriel, but laying on his back within arm's reach. And he would likely stay there and try to sleep again unless the other guy did something.

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Where was Phoenix…?

Wasn’t he back from the bathroom yet?

Oriel opened his eyes briefly, wondering why his bed felt so….empty…until he remembered that that’s how it was supposed to be anyway.

Did he say something a moment ago? Oriel couldn’t remember. He was too busy enjoying a finer dream than he’d experienced in a long while to notice.

Oriel rested his eyes again, keeping his ears sharp for the sound of the other man returning to the bed. When he finally did…Oriel simply blinked up into the dark ceiling. He probably shouldn’t do anything. The only reason he’d brought Phoenix to his bed was because….he wanted Phoenix to sleep peacefully….right?

What in the world was Oriel thinking?

What was Phoenix thinking? Oriel wished he knew.

Phoenix returned to the bed. That had to mean something, right? But he didn’t make any motion to return to their previous position. What did that mean?

Oriel breathed again and slowly moved his inside arm closer to Phoenix, until their fingers touched. He did nothing more though…this small bit of contact would have to be enough.

Oriel closed his eyes again.

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Phoenix didn't know what to do, or expect. He felt uncomfortable laying on his back like that, but he was too nervous to move now. He was aware of every raspy breath he took, every time he swallowed; they sounded so obvious, he wondered if Oriel was aware of them, too.

He felt something touch his fingers. Phen jumped slightly, surprised by the small touch. After a long moment of hesitation, Phoenix allowed his fingers to lace a little more with the other man's, soaking in the heat from his warm hand.

And that tiny contact, for some reason, calmed Phoenix's nerves. He closed his eyes once more, and soon drifted off to sleep again, back into the thankfully dreamless sleep that he wanted to always have.

Phoenix wanted to stay here.