Salvation | Rebirth

The next day, Wild awoke to the warmth of Artful’s body against his, and he did not stand up from his bed immediately, instead choosing to snuggle closer and enjoy the warm and comfortable state of being only half-awake. He didn’t truly have anywhere to be, and he didn’t have any particular desire to do anything at all. The previous day had been... less than ideal, and he felt he deserved a full day of rest, at the very least. Just one day where he didn’t have to worry about anything... much. He still worried, after all, and about many things, but... a day of recuperation, of recharging, of regaining his full energy, that was what he really wanted.

Artful stirred slightly, unconsciously wiggling a bit towards Wild, and Wild let out a pleased sigh. He could definitely get used to waking up like this. Despite his half-asleep state, he felt like he was drifting on the softest cloud under the summer’s warm sunlight. He didn’t remember if he dreamed at all, but he had certainly not had any nightmare emerge to ruin his night, and that felt like a victory of some kind. He still remembered the odd dream he had during the sleepover, and... others had managed to enter it, sucked into his dream, which was certainly not good. He hoped it would never happen again. He would need to talk to Luna about it, she would likely know what was going on with his dreams.

In truth, there was much he needed to talk with Luna about. His new relationship and all that was connected to it, for example. He would also need Doctor Fay for a more regular perspective on things. He needed to know whether he was going everything more or less alright, and he certainly needed to know if anything he did could somehow hurt Artful. Artful had seemed too accepting, and although Wild was not suspicious about it - Artful was one hundred percent honest, he could tell - he still wondered whether Artful understood the full ramifications of the truth about Wild. If he didn’t... it was up to Wild to make sure Artful wasn’t walking blind deeper into a relationship with someone who was such a mess. It did seem like Artful understood everything, but Wild wanted to make certain of it.

Wild liked the physical aspect of their relationship, without a doubt, but he couldn’t take full advantage of it without being one hundred percent sure Artful was entirely on board with everything concerning Wild. Perhaps... Wild would even speak about the worse things that he had done. He remembered how Luna told him that no one would judge him for what he did, that he did the right thing, but... he wanted to see if that was the truth. Would Artful judge him for being, well, a sadistic killer? Of course, those he killed deserved it, Wild had no doubts about it, and they deserved to suffer even more than he had, but... would Artful agree? Was it even a good idea to expose Artful to violence of such degree, even if Artful didn’t get to see it happen with his own eyes? Artful was, for the most part, innocent, and Wild wanted to preserve that innocence for as long as possible. Artful didn’t need to see the horrible reality Wild had lived through.

However... the most important aspect of a relationship, at least as far as Wild knew, was honesty. If he could not be honest with his partner, then their relationship would not have a solid foundation. Wild could avoid the unpleasant facts all he wanted, but he feared it would all come crashing down on him, and he was worried he would not recover from that. It was a miracle that it hadn’t happened already after Artful learned that Wild was from a different world, that his true origins were not what they seemed at all. Yet, despite all of that, all Artful offered in response to it was support and acceptance.

Wild finally stood up from the bed, carefully extricating himself from underneath Artful. Artful stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherently, but didn’t wake up. Wild couldn’t help but smile, then leave a small kiss on his cheek. Without a single doubt, Artful was absolutely adorable, and Wild would treasure this sight for as long as he could remember it. Perhaps he would one day get a camera and capture it, and then put photos together in an album so that he could always go back to those moments, moments that would not fade from his memory if he could do anything about it.

As Wild went through his morning routine - still amazed at the fact that his body was without a single scar - his mind drifted. He probably needed - wanted - to learn how to cook properly so that he could serve Artful breakfast in bed. Lunch, too. And dinner. Perhaps not in bed, but definitely in general. The more things he did for Artful, the better, without a doubt. As of now, there was simply not enough that he could do to fully show his appreciation and his love for Artful. Perhaps Artful would tell him that there was no need to go that far, that he knew Wild loved him, but Wild wanted to do it anyway, to make everything clear.

A part of him spewed poisonous words at him - was he so desperate for love that he would do anything for it? Was he so needy that he would give up so much of his time for someone else? After all, if he didn’t, maybe Artful would go away, find someone better, and Wild, well, perhaps Wild would be better off alone so that he didn’t hurt anyone like he inevitably would.

Wild pushed those thoughts away in defiance. He didn’t need to, didn’t want to think about how this relationship was, in some way, a lifeline, one he would hang on to with all that he could, because... he didn’t think he would handle a breakup well. He didn’t even want to consider it as a possibility even though he knew it was still there, hanging above him threateningly, ready to fall at any moment. Despite reassurances from Artful, Wild could never be truly sure that this relationship would last. Wild now knew he would possibly live for more than a hundred years, and he wasn’t so sure that his relationship would survive this long. He could hardly see what would happen even a month into the future, never mind a year, a decade, and certainly not a whole century.

He heard shuffling steps behind him, and Artful entered the bathroom.

“G’morning,” Artful mumbled as he went to the toilet.

“Morning,” Wild replied, then focused on cleaning his teeth. He took longer than usual, waiting for Artful to catch up, and when Artful was cleaning his teeth, Wild went to turn on the water in the shower and adjust the temperature just right. Not too cold, but still refreshing enough to wake them both up fully.

Wild couldn’t help but think how easily he had fallen into this routine. Well, perhaps it wouldn’t be called a routine just yet, considering that he was only doing it a second time, but he was not at all against it becoming routine. Waking up next to someone he loved, then taking a shower together. It was as if a missing part of him was finally put together, and he realized that the yawning abyss of loneliness was finally gone. He had thought he would be alright on his own, but the truth was, being with someone else was, by far, a lot better.

“Artful,” he said, “I was... thinking. About how we sleep.”

“Hm?” Artful turned to him, still in the process of brushing his teeth.

“We, um, sleep together now, and... um...” Wild racked his brain for the words to put together. Sometimes not being a native speaker of a language was a huge pain, “We sleep in my bed some days, but I think we can sleep in your bed... other days.”

Artful finished cleaning his teeth, rinsed them, and turned fully to Wild.

“Ah, so we sleep together in your dorm and my dorm, changing from time to time?” he asked for clarification.

“Yes,” Wild nodded, “I think that is... fair to do.”

“Yeah, I actually was thinking about it too. Guess we gotta figure out the schedule, huh?”

Wild and Artful got into the shower together, and Wild started on brushing Artful’s fur to clean it. Some sexual thoughts inevitably went through his head, but he discarded them, at least for now. He wasn’t too much in the mood now, and he wanted to talk about some things besides.

“Every two days?” Wild suggested.

“I was thinking maybe half a week at a time.”

Wild hummed thoughtfully, then nodded. It seemed fair. Now, however, he steeled himself for talking about more serious things. Naturally, a part of him didn’t want to raise the issue, but it had to be spoken about.

“And... there is another thing,” he began, “I... I think we two should both together speak to, to... my therapists,” Wild paused for a deep breath, “They know, um, things about me, and... I want us... to figure it all out better.”

Wild wished he could have put it all together in a more thoughtful fashion, but he felt as if his tongue was tying itself in knots, so he would deal with what he did manage to say. Either way, it appeared that Artful understood what he was talking about.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” he nodded, “As I told you, I don’t, like... really mind that you’re from, you know, a different world and all, as kinda crazy as it is, and I’m not feeling any different about you because of that, but if it will give you a peace of mind, then yeah, let’s do it.”

“...there is more to me, too,” Wild admitted, speaking slowly as he picked the words and pushed away the fear and anxiety, “More... things... that I didn’t say.”

“Wild, we agreed not to talk about things if we didn’t want to,” Artful reminded him, looking him in the eyes, “You got your secrets, I got my secrets. Everyone has them. You really don’t need to tell me everything, and I mean it.”

Wild wanted to nod, but couldn’t, so he averted his eyes.

“Well, if you want to, I can guess a bit?”

With some hesitation, he nodded.

“From what I know about you, you’ve... suffered,” Artful’s voice grew gentle, and then he started gently brushing Wild under the rushing water. The soothing motions made Wild relax somewhat, but not fully, “Well, I know I have trauma, and, well, you have it too. It’s... pretty clear.”

Wild could certainly not deny that, so he nodded.

“So, whatever secrets you have, I guess they’re connected to your trauma,” Artful continued, and Wild nodded again, “And, yeah, so... you don’t have to talk about all that unless you want to, and I mean really want to. I won’t push you away if you just, you know, want to vent to me about shitty things that happened, because pretty much everyone who goes through shitty things might want to, like, let out the steam. I... well, I did that. I literally screamed and punched things. I was... not in a good mindset, definitely, and I was, well, a bit of a little shit,” he chuckled, “But yeah, it kinda helped me with just... letting it all out. And talking, that helped a lot. Like, realizing that I, as a person, have... worth, I guess, and that it’s not defined by my... well, people who gave birth to me. You know what I’m saying?”

Wild had some idea, so he nodded.

“So yeah, trauma is just... something you live with, but also something you process. And pushing yourself to process it in ways that you don’t want, that kinda goes against the whole point of processing it. I’m really just paraphrasing what my therapist told me, so maybe I’m missing some details, but yeah. So... I am not gonna judge you for whatever trauma you have. Maybe you did some, uh, less than good things because of it, but you’re trying your best, right?”

Wild nodded once again. However, he didn’t think killing someone could really be said to be ‘less than good’. Of course, he didn’t think it was bad, they sure did deserve it, but others would not think the same. Perhaps, as a kid, he would simply tell people to fuck off if they suggested that, and he had certainly been an angry enough child that the hypothetical idea of killing hadn’t really fazed him all that much... until he did it. And then, it both fazed him, and... made him feel good as well. Because, in a way, that was a release.

His biggest fear now, he knew, was Artful’s rejection if he learned of that fact.

“Can I keep guessing some things?” Artful asked. Wild, once again with hesitation, nodded, “If you’re from a different world, and it’s not a world anyone really knows anything about, then I don’t think you traveled on purpose, right?” Wild nodded, “So... I guess, uh, something shitty happened to you, and you kinda... ran away. Maybe did something big, and that’s why you ended up here.”

Wild could feel Artful’s own hesitation because, it appeared, Artful had come to a rather correct conclusion as to how exactly Wild ended up traveling between words, especially since Wild no longer had his old body. Artful’s thoughts were rolling, like a thundercloud at the edge of releasing lightning. Wild stood still and silent, not knowing what to say, not knowing if he wanted to speak at all.

Artful then hugged him tightly, almost making him stumble. For a long moment, there was no sound but the rushing of water, which still failed to cover the sound of Wild’s own heavy heartbeat.

“I’m sorry it all happened to you,” Artful told him quietly, and Wild wondered whether wetness on his face was splashes from the shower or tears, “I... I think I figured out... what happened. You shouldn’t have gone through that.”

“I...” Wild managed to get out, but his voice sounded weak even to his own ears.

“It’s alright,” Artful said softly, “I... I get why you wanted and also, you know, didn’t want to talk about it. It’s... not easy for you, is it? Everything.”

“I died,” Wild let it out in one ragged breath.

“I’m so sorry, Wild,” Artful rocked him slightly from side to side in a soothing motion, “Know my sorrow.”

The last words he said, Wild understood, but he had never heard anyone tell him that before. Even then, he understood what they meant, what meaning they held now specifically. Artful was not apologizing at all - not that he had anything to apologize for - but letting Wild see that he understood and that he offered comfort and acceptance.

This acceptance, this understanding, it all was enough for Wild to let out one sob. He gritted his teeth, shut his eyes tightly, but then another sob emerged. A sort of sob of gratitude, perhaps, but also as if a dam broke inside of him. Distantly, Wild recognized that it likely wouldn’t be the last time he cried about what had happened to him, when he heard others recognize the awfulness that he had gone through. It made something within him... loosen. Ease. Whatever it was, it was now better, and that was what was important.

“Better now?” Artful asked quietly.

Wild could do nothing but nod.

“So... I guess I know one more thing about you,” Artful said, “And, if you really want to talk, I will listen. And, well... I love you, Wild. Even though horrible shit happened to you, and you had to deal with all that the best you could, and yes, you did the best you could, don’t ever doubt that, I won’t stop loving you. Maybe you had to steal. Maybe... maybe you even killed people who hurt you. I’m not going to run away from that, from you,” Artful sighed then, “I... I thought of death, when I was younger. Because everything sucked, you know? I looked into a mirror and hated myself. And... I did really want to kill, you know, those who made me feel that way. I... I still do, sometimes. I’m not going to judge you if you felt that way and... did it.”

Wild realized that he should have given Artful more credit. He had been far more observant about things than Wild thought, and he had come to right conclusions. However, Wild still couldn’t bring himself to admitting to it out loud, and yet it seemed Artful understood it all anyway.

In a way, it was surprising to hear Artful admit to having thoughts like Wild’s were. Ponies oftentimes seemed so... non-threatening. Nice and colorful, like from some children’s harmless cartoon. However, Wild remembered that horses knew how to kick and how to bite, and they were not afraid to do that if threatened, and it appeared ponies were the same.

Wild almost let out a laugh - they had been having this discussion while taking a shower. It wasn’t really funny, but it was a bit absurd.

“...Thank you,” he said instead of laughing, “For... understanding and... accepting.”

“As I said before,” Artful nuzzled Wild, “I chose all of you, and I’m definitely not going to give up easily.”

Wild couldn’t help but let out a laugh, as wet-sounding as it was pleased. Perhaps he really hadn’t been giving enough credit to Artful, and he was now finding just how wrong he was. And despite how he missed the mark with what he thought about Artful, he couldn’t help but feel like the pressure to reveal every little thing about himself eased as to disappear. Perhaps Artful truly meant it with his acceptance and understanding, and so Wild only needed to understand and accept him in turn.

The day was starting off heavy, but Wild had a feeling things would be quite a bit better further down the line, and he was, as much as he could be, ready for it.