Chapter Text
Mariana stepped back with a deep breath.
His house is coming along quite nicely. Juanaflippa would soon be proud of him. Little by little, the progress he makes amounts to how much more he could handle his grief. Silence is no longer unbearable, loneliness turns to solidarity, the physical dull ache in his chest becomes an acknowledgement. Roier even said he was doing better. Although…
Mariana missed his husband. His other half. Not a day goes by without his head drifting towards him. A bed that’s too cold, a house meant for three, a golden band around his finger he refuses to take off. He knows all his progress can become undone when he thinks about him too hard. But he is just a wife who wonders and worries and yearns at the end of the day.
The baby sparrows from nearby trees chirp loudly, he used to hate the sound. But it helps him now as he snaps out of it.
Puta madre. He’s out of luck. He also ran out of wood. The type of wood only unique to certain faraway biomes inhabited by the wild.
“Soy un idiota. Por qué no elegí otra cosa?” He whined, too late to regret his life choices. This is why he’s no builder like Vegetta and his stupid ex. He overlooked the fact that it would be a pain to collect.
But it’s only two in the afternoon. If he makes his trip right now, he’ll be home just a little after sundown. It’ll keep him preoccupied, a mundane and repetitive task like collecting wood helps his thoughts blur together.
Mariana stops his whining, pulling himself together while emptying his backpack for some storage and decent gear. If he learned one thing about his current lone wolf arrangement, it is that this isn’t about him. He can choose to spend the rest of his life wallowing in self-pity, but that’s not what Juanaflippa would’ve wanted. He’d move mountains, split oceans and kill for his girl, but she only wants him to be happy. Sometimes that can be the hardest thing. But for her, he’ll do anything.
He sets off on his journey with a heavy heart.
At least the ocean looks great.
Mariana forgets that the world could be beautiful. Honestly, it almost seems unfair to him that he gets to feel the cool breeze in his hair and watch dolphins resurfacing next to his boat.
Enjoy it. A voice awfully sounding like Roier’s rings in his head. Disfrútalo para tu hija. Disfrútalo porque puedes.
He sticks his hand into the water.
It’s cold and nice.
Charlie breathes heavily, the sea breeze, a constant that fills his lungs, he probably can’t tell what air is like with no salt anymore.
He docks his boat from a makeshift fence post near the campfire, dragging his feet lazily, together with the large sea bass that he caught by its tail. It’s at least three feet in length, which would probably last them at least five days.
“Ted!” He calls out, quickly going to work as he gets on his knees with an empty bucket and one of his sharper knives.
When he doesn’t receive a reply back, he twists his head towards the cabin. “Ted! Did you hear me? I’m back! Can you grab our ice chest?”
Charlie no longer waits for a response as he starts deboning and gutting the fish with expert dexterity. It’s something that he’s used to by now, he could probably do this with his eyes closed. Not to tempt fate, but he does have the scars to prove the fruit of his labor, much like the other skills he had to learn while living in these unforgiving conditions.
“Charlie, you son of a bitch!” Ted emerges from the door, hugging the ice chest in one arm as he trudges along the sand cheerily.
Naturally, he rolls his eyes, already done with his antics. And it’s only three in the afternoon, or at least, that’s what the cross-shaped shadow tells him from the useless shrine he built meant to summon God.
“Just give me the chest. I don’t want my hands to smell like fish guts all day, dude.” He whined indignantly.
Yet, instead of being helpful, the man only hurls something at him, the size of a small coin. The only warning he gets is an abrupt “Catch!”
Surprisingly, Charlie does catch it with his fist. Cold metal and thin.
A startled gasp leaves his lips. “Where did you get this?”
Ted crossed his arms over his chest, a smug look to him. “In your spare backpack. Why is it inside a fake flower pot?”
“Stop going through my stuff!” He chided before placing it in his pocket for temporary safekeeping. Well, the fake house plant is actually Roier’s. “Now I have to find a new hiding place. Thanks!” He spat sarcastically before grabbing the chest from him.
“Who hides their wedding ring?” chirped Ted confusedly. “Okay, maybe divorced couples. That actually makes sense. But also you were married?!”
I’m still married, asshole. Charlie almost wanted to correct. But how true would that be these days? He can’t even look at his ring anymore without suffocating from the shame and guilt of committing the same tragic mistake his wife did. Raising him hell and fire for it while he ran away like a coward.
Charlie turned away from Ted to put the portions of fish meat in the chest. “That’s none of your business.”
“Oh, come on! You’re so fucking lame,” Ted scoffed. “Bet I could take a guess.”
Charlie refuses to entertain him any longer. He carries the chest back inside without another word, only sighing in frustration when Ted trails behind him like a second shadow.
“I bet she’s a stay-at-home…” Ted started.
Charlie continues moving around, keeping busy if it means avoiding the annoying bastard’s gauging scrutiny.
“Hmm… She’s definitely the better cook because you put shit food on the table.”
“The next time you get mauled by hyenas, I’m gonna sit there and watch.” He deadpanned.
Ted barks out a laugh. “Okay. Totally unrelated but I’m also betting that she’s more patient.”
“Fuck you!”
Mariana is definitely lost.
It can’t be helped. Dark oak is somehow a rare commodity in Quesadilla Island. He thinks he might’ve traveled farther, because he doesn’t recognize his surroundings, he should’ve passed by a certain looted pirate ship by now but he hasn’t. His arms actually ache from rowing.
But he can’t really be mad about it. Not when he’s surrounded by so much beauty. Mariana wondered if he happened to have stumbled on some portal that took him to an enchanted place. He wouldn’t be surprised. Strange things have been happening around him lately. Though this one… This one fills him with a sense of childlike wonder unlike any other.
Tall cliffs with arches erected from the deep sea like mythical doorways. Mariana doesn’t even need a torch to traverse the night, the natural free form structures were brightly illuminated by cave vines with glow berries.
“Dónde estoy?” He’s been uttering to himself.
Mariana needs to go on land soon though. It can’t be safe to still be on a boat at night and he’s also very tired. He’s not built for long trips like this, spontaneously too.
“Wait for me!” Charlie jogs next to him, panting heavily.
“No es mi culpa que no puedas seguir el ritmo.” He smirked, already expecting the impending scowl his husband sent his way.
“Not everyone has long legs, you freak of nature!”
“Solo eres débil,” He shot back before turning to their clueless daughter, eating a toast with her free hand. “Juana está bien y es mucho más pequeña que tú.”
“She’s literally a dragon!”
“Ay, tantas excusas.” He retorts while rolling his eyes. “Intenta mantener el ritmo, cariño.”
It was a lovely day at the beach, certainly a core memory for Juanaflippa.
Mariana is reminded now to make himself laugh. At least he isn’t as bad as his husband. Charlie would give up midway up the stairs and he’d ask to be carried. And like the smitten fool that he is, he would cave in every time. He shakes his head with a fond chuckle. Dios mío. He misses him so much.
Just when he thought he’d have to resign to sleep uncomfortably on the boat, he finds an island.
Again, Mariana doesn’t need to grab a torch, the place is already well-lit. Strangely enough, not by glow berries and there’s also another boat docked near a campfire.
“Como…?” He approaches the site with growing curiosity, the sand is surprisingly smoother and finer around these parts, it’s like stepping on flour.
When he looks up from his shoes, there’s also a small wooden cabin only a few feet away, next to what appears to be a mine.
Someone clearly lives here. There’s probably already other people settled in this area. Surely, they can’t be the only ones on Quesadilla Island.
Mariana usually keeps to himself because he doesn’t like bothering people, if he can’t ask for Roier’s help, he doesn’t ask anyone at all. But… Would it be rude to knock on the door to see if anyone’s home? It’s getting pretty dark and he’s kind of hungry, he ran out of food ages ago.
His empty stomach growls in protest. This is not a situation to be shy and closed off. It’s either people or wild animals, and Mariana doesn’t want to find out what could be out there in the distant darkness that the torches don’t cover.
He takes about two, maybe three steps in when he hears quiet rusting, somewhere on his left. It is some very careful rustling, trying not to get caught. Closer. It’s getting closer. And no matter where he looks through the tall grass, he can’t tell where it’s coming from.
He doesn’t know until piercing yellow eyes glow in the dark. Something that can only belong to a—
“Guepardo! Vete a la chingada! Hijo de puta pinche—“ He barely had time to draw his sword as the wild creature charged at him with a low growl that rattled his rib cage. It caught him off guard, and he was immediately tackled to the ground harshly.
With such a strong force of impact, the air gets knocked out of his lungs, yet somehow, somehow, he still had the sense of desperation to grapple at it with his bare hands. Sharp claws dig into his shoulder deeply in retaliation and he howls in pain.
“Chingas a tu madre, perro desgraciado—ayuda! Ayuda! Help me, por favor!” Between the gritted screaming and the loud growls, more voices follow.
Its claws stubbornly keep digging into his skin to keep him in place and he’s sure he’s losing so much blood. The smell is nauseating, even more than the grotesque sight, he’s kicking his legs now. The heels of his feet kept digging into the sand as the pain becomes unbearable and he had no more strength to scream.
“Ted, Ted! Get him inside! I’ll handle this, just stay with him!”
That voice.
“S-Slime?”
His body collapses on the ground and the last thing he hears is a battle cry and a sword being drawn.
Then everything fades to black.
“He doesn’t look so good. That cheetah was ready to tear into him.” Ted did an excellent job, cleaning and bandaging his wife up—better than him if he attempted to try with hands still violently shaking on his sides.
Charlie gazed at Mariana’s pale face, pretending like he wasn’t close to tears earlier. The horrid scene of his wife, half dead, and bathing in his own blood is not something that he thought he’d ever see in his lifetime. In his head, it is a known fact as there are billions of stars in the sky that Mariana is alive and healthy. How did he even get here anyway? Better yet, does anyone else know?
“Where are you going?” asks Ted before he could step out of the door.
“Watch over him for me. I’m gonna be back.” He deliberately ignores his companion’s protests as he steps outside.
Charlie briskly makes his way to the campfire, avoiding the darkened patches of sand that have now absorbed Mariana’s blood. Overwhelming fear is still present, mixing with the rush of adrenaline from the fight.
He almost lost Mariana, the only one he has left.
It takes him and Ted still being down the mines, of being a second too late from responding to his cries for help. All it takes is a small change and he would’ve found his wife’s mutilated corpse by his feet. His hands keep shaking, unable to escape the sickening thoughts that make bile rise from his throat.
And the bloodlust over a wild animal just following its survival instincts.
Fuck.
Charlie keeps failing at not letting his emotions reign over him. He thought isolating himself from people would fix that. He thought more people would be less hurt if he wasn’t around to cause them pain. And yet, somehow, the universe finds a way. To remind him there’s danger in the way that he loves so deeply, how he killed for his daughter and how he would die for his wife.
He always thinks back to the moment Roier found him with Tilin’s corpse in his arms. That’s how Charlie likes to remind himself how much he fucked up. The look. The mortified look on his face, followed by the visceral anger, barely contained from turning into violence if it weren’t for Juanaflippa’s presence. How Roier is the first and the last face he saw that day.
The only consequence Charlie faced is knowing the man considered piercing him with an arrow to the back while his daughter was distracted.
Roier made the mistake by not taking the shot.
Because Charlie would’ve bled out, hidden between the trees and Juanaflippa wouldn’t have to know. Tilin would’ve gotten her justice.
Instead, his wedding ring is only pressing firmly against his thigh and that’s hardly any form of retribution.
Mariana always liked to take his time in waking up. He likes to linger in bed, to let his consciousness and ability to think naturally catch up first before starting his day.
However, he’s struggling to do that now as he feels sweaty and gross underneath the blanket. There’s something uncomfortably pulling around his arm and shoulder too, some firm pressure. Suddenly, a sharp pain shoots up from where he tried to flex his joints, making him wince through gritted teeth.
“He lives! The Cheetah boy lives!” An unexpectedly cheerful, very American, baritone voice rattles him more awake, he snaps his eyes wide open to meet an equally unfamiliar face.
“Qué mierda! Who are you?” He rasps, warily staring at the stranger with swooping dark hair and some thin-framed glasses. “Eres mi sosias gringo?” He whispered. It was a question mostly to himself because that’s not the only thing they have in common.
The more Mariana kept looking, the more they had eerily physical resemblances. It’s becoming more convincing that he had somehow stepped into an alternate reality.
“I’m Ted Nivison. But you can just call me Ted and Charlie asked me to look after you while he’s away.”
At the mention of his husband’s name, he carefully sits up, that was all it took to have a full recollection of what happened. But the cheetah attack and almost bleeding to death aside, something ugly unfurls in his guts.
“Where is Slime? Dónde está mi esposo? Why are you with him? Eres—Eres su novio, culero?” He demanded aggressively, not even aware of how much he’s squeezing the blanket or how hard he’s grinding his teeth together.
Ted scrunches his brows together in confusion. “What? What are you talking about?” He narrowed his eyes before something clicked in his head, a bright glint sparking his brown eyes. “Oh, shit. Wait. You’re Mariana?!”
The Mexican scoffed rudely at him.
“That’s me. Hay algún problema?”
Ted blinks at him.
“Okay. Did I do something wrong here? I’m sensing a bit of hostility. What’s going on?”
Somehow, Ted’s calm and clueless demeanor pisses Mariana off more than it should. If his shoulder isn’t wrapped in bandages right now and constricting his movements, he would gladly lunge at this stupid man, he swears on Juanaflippa.
“Answer me, motherfucker!”
“You need to fucking calm down,” Ted points a finger at him sternly like he’s scolding a domesticated pet. “I just saw your name engraved on the wedding ring, no need to get so aggressive.”
Mariana was definitely going to ask why the bastard has his husband’s wedding ring, but the door swings wide open and he is still left speechless when Charlie staggers inside, panting heavily as he dropped his backpack on the floor with little to no care at all.
“Ted, how is he? Is he still—oh… You’re awake.” The usual inflection of his husband’s voice drops significantly the moment their eyes lock and suddenly, Mariana doesn’t know what to do with himself.
It’s just, he hasn’t seen him in so long. He could definitely see how much Charlie has changed, yet stay so familiar at the same time. He must’ve been staring the entire time, too fixated on his face because his husband is just so handsome.
“Do you still have a fever?” Charlie pressed the back of his hand on his forehead. And that mere second of contact of their skin is enough to send his mind reeling. “You’re doing better. That’s good at least. How are you feeling?”
Maybe it’s the combination of finally seeing and hearing Charlie again or maybe he’s just been emotionally sensitive since he lost both his husband and daughter. But the rational part of him holding everything together collapses, and he bursts into tears.
Mariana forgets about his injured shoulder and he throws his arms around his husband, shoving himself to anywhere he could reach.
“Te extrañé. Te extrañé mucho, mi amor.” He tells him brokenly. Charlie has no idea, he has no idea how many times he imagined this moment.
“I missed you too.” replied his husband warmly.
When he felt strong arms wrap back around him, it’s the first time in so long that he had felt safe and at home at the same time. There’s only one reason Mariana slightly pulls away from the wet patch he made on Charlie’s shirt, he noticed something.
“Algo es diferente…” His voice trails off, gaze dropping over to his husband’s midsection with heat rising to his cheeks. He felt it. How does he say this without sounding like a horny bastard…? “You’re… You’re mamadisimo, no?”
Charlie laughed lightly.
God, he missed hearing that tinkering sound so much.
And then, someone just had to ruin their moment.
“Wow, Charles. I didn’t know you could be so soft.” Ted mused teasingly.
Mariana snaps his head at him with a deathly glare. “Puedes callarte, cabron?”
“You’re so rude for no reason.” Ted stated flatly.
Before he could spit back another response, his husband stops him with a gentle squeeze on his shoulder.
“Ignore him. Being annoying is just how Ted functions.” Charlie grinned before dropping his hand on his side, much to Mariana’s disappointment. “You’re probably hungry. I harvested some fruits and traded with the local villagers for other ingredients. You should lay down and keep resting. Ted and I will take care of the food.”
“No, wait!” Before he knew what he was doing, he had grabbed his husband by the wrist to stop him from taking a step away from him. He looks over his shoulder, gritting his teeth once more. He honestly doesn’t want Charlie and Ted to be anywhere near each other. “Puedo ayudar.”
Charlie purses his lips in disapproval. “I already told you. You still need to rest—“
“Estoy herido, no inútil.” He insisted stubbornly.
“Okay. I know I’m a shit cook and you—“
“He admits it—“
“Ted, shut up and stop laughing!” Charlie chided with a click of his tongue. “As I was saying, I know you prefer your own cooking but I’ve gotten better at it. I promise I won’t give you salmonella or something.”
Mariana frowned. That’s not why he’s being difficult. It’s a lot more petty than that, a lot more ridiculous as his heart burns with an ache to just keep Charlie close to him at all times. But the words are stuck on his throat like gravel, all he could do is reluctantly let him go.
“We’ll talk after, alright?” Charlie inquired sweetly, the kind of reassurance that they’d have more time alone together. “We have a lot of things to cover.”
Mariana swallows back a whine as his husband steps away from him to gather his backpack. The cabin is just one moderately spacious room, the kitchen is only a few feet away from the bed. Still, he keeps a close eye on the pair.
“Alright, you piece of shit. Start peeling the carrots and potatoes, I’ll prepare the fish.” Charlie started while Ted begrudgingly trails after him.
“Fuck you. Why do I always have to be the one to peel the vegetables?”
“I’m sorry, did you catch the fish that we’re having for lunch today?” Charlie retorted sarcastically.
“No, but only because you didn’t tell me you were going fishing. I would’ve caught it.”
“No, you wouldn’t have.”
“Agree to disagree.”
The way they mindlessly maneuvered around the kitchen space as they bickered felt all too sickening to watch and listen to. Maybe it’s not the best idea. He felt like a ghost, watching as an invisible bystander.
Because this was literally how they were during the beginning of their relationship. Full of arguments and disagreements, but also a lot of overwhelming passion in between. Are they… Are they the same? Do they also kiss and make up after a bickering that has gone too far? Do they fuck on the very bed that he’s currently resting on?
Mariana turns the other way with a sinking heart. He doesn’t want to imagine his husband with someone else, let alone, with someone who is much similar to him. All he has ever known is being loved by Charlie, the American had no penny to his name, but only had his fierce loyalty and his entire heart to give.
And that has been enough.
It’s more than he actually deserved.
His husband is just far too generous, almost to a fault. Charlie loves until he doesn’t have anything for himself. He kisses with his entire body, loves with his entire soul and fights with his entire strength. As selfish as it is, Mariana refuses for anyone else to receive that kind of love only Charlie could give.
He is here now.
He’ll take him away from this place.
They’re almost done cooking. The pair is just tossing some spare vegetables left in the barrel in a bowl and call it a salad to avoid more waste. Between him and Mariana, his wife has always been a better advocate for a healthy eating lifestyle, something that Charlie is a little late to follow.
“You married such a grump.” commented Ted in a whisper.
Charlie rolled his eyes before looking over his shoulder, Mariana is still sound asleep. “He’s not always like that, believe it or not. But after our daughter died, what else would you expect?”
There’s no point in keeping secrets from Ted, his companion pretty much has seen him at his absolute worst when he was just starting out on the island. The only reason Charlie made Mariana his one well-kept secret is kind of stupid.
In his head, maybe if he keeps his marriage to himself, he could also keep a semblance of what it used to be, a pretense to a happy one that’s never been broken and filled with grief and sadness. A selfish part of him is holding on by a thread that he gets to keep Mariana as his wife, even if it’s just on paper now and a ring.
But Mariana is here now, there will come a time to let him go, to set him free so he isn’t tied down to a cowardly man who can’t even face the people he has hurt.
“I’m sorry,” Ted almost forgot. It’s clear in the way that he’s tense around the shoulders. “I think he just really hates me.”
“I’m sure it’s for a good reason. You’re a dickhead.” He grins, casually elbowing him to uplift the mood a little. “He’ll warm up to you eventually. Don’t worry.”
“I doubt it. He thinks that I’m your—“
“Slime!”
Charlie cranes his neck towards his wife. “Yes? What is i—oh my god, why are you trying to get up?!” He drops what he was doing without second thoughts as he rushes over towards him.
He was just in time to catch Mariana before his knees buckled under him, crashing onto his chest. Naturally, they both hold onto each other to keep upright, Charlie was making sure he was supporting them both and unbeknownst to him, his wife glared over his shoulder and raised a middle finger behind his back to one clueless Ted Nivison.
“Are you okay?” Charlie asks with genuine concern, only to be pulled in a deep kiss that ultimately makes him melt.
His eyes drift shut and a soft noise leaves him, muffled by Mariana tracing the seam of his lips with his tongue, he gets pulled impossibly closer by the back of his neck and Charlie accepts all of it willingly. It’s been so long since he’s been kissed like this, it’s not helping that Mariana is holding him just as possessively too.
When Mariana pulls away, there’s a proud grin plastered across his face. “Entonces, qué hay para el almuerzo?”
Still recovering, Charlie looks back at him in a daze. “What?”
“Almuerzo, cariño.”
Remembering where he is and what he should be doing, he unfurls the tight fist on Mariana’s shirt, blushing on his way to the kitchen. When did that happen?
“Why don’t you sit back down and we’ll start setting up the table?” He deliberately ignores the two pairs of eyes on him as he carefully steps back and hurriedly makes himself busy.
Lunch is unsurprisingly… Awkward and (a little) tense, to say the least. Charlie opted to sit in the middle, which he thought would be the better option considering he could stop both men from tackling each other this way. But Mariana kept staring Ted down like a hawk, provoking an atmosphere that’s too quietly hostile for small talk.
“Okay. What’s going on? Did you two get off on the wrong foot while I was away?” Charlie isn’t even going to try anymore, his attempts kept getting derailed by one-word responses and he is sick of it.
“I don’t know, go ask your wife. He seems like he has a huge problem with me since he woke up.” started Ted, earning a scowl from Mariana.
“Si, tengo un problema contigo. Deja de coquetear con mi esposo!”
A high-pitched “What?” left him. Charlie has never been more confused in his life until this moment. Because he can’t recall a single time that Ted ever flirted with him.
“You sound fucking insane right now. Do you hear yourself?” Ted responded, gesturing wildly with his fingers on his temples despite remaining calmer between the two.
“Can you fight? Want to fight me?” Despite Mariana’s injury, he abruptly stands up from his seat.
And much to Charlie’s dismay, Ted also followed, glaring back. They were seconds away from throwing their fists at each other if he doesn’t do anything. This is so fucking stupid.
“No, no. Stop! Both of you!” Charlie stands his ground assertively. He might be the shortest but he can handle them just fine, he’d much prefer if they don’t let him though. This is not worth his furniture getting destroyed over. “No fighting in my house! If you want to fucking kill each other, take it outside. But I’d rather have you two separated. That’s it. Ted! Go for a walk to the village!”
“What? Why me?”
“Because Mariana’s still injured,” Charlie stated before turning to the snickering Mexican with the same grit to his teeth. “And you, stop fucking provoking him! I’m not making you stay just because you're my wife.”
He shuts them up completely.
Thank fucking god.
With him taking charge, he managed to somehow diffuse the situation. Though they’re still childishly grumbling to themselves, it’s like babysitting two children. Jesus christ.
Charlie ignores them in favor of taking the dirty dishes to the sink, sighing deeply in relief. But as soon as Ted is out of the door, he immediately strides over to Mariana sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Okay. What the fuck was that?” He had to confront his wife.
“Qué? What was what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me. What the fuck just happened! You’re being so…”
“Celoso? Like you?” Mariana dared to say and Charlie can’t even deny it. “Nunca he estado celoso! No me pongo celoso! Hasta ahora.” He admits indignantly, blushing violently in embarrassment.
Charlie drops himself next to his wife, his mouth opening and closing with no sound while his heart pounds incessantly in his chest, he could hear it ringing in his own ears. He’s not even going to lie to himself, but a part of him preens at the knowledge that Mariana is capable of being jealous, that he becomes reckless and possessive and stupid for him.
“There’s nothing to get jealous of.” Still, he has to reassure him. He doesn’t want Mariana to think that he could be replaceable, Charlie knows that feeling all too well and it’s terrible. It could tear you down from the inside out.
“Él no es tu novio?” Mariana asks timidly, picking at his nails out of nervous habit.
He wrinkles his nose in disgust for even making such an insane connection. “Ted? Fuck, no! I don’t like him like that.”
“Es neta? Incluso si él es Americano y tiene una voz más profunda?”
Charlie can’t help but snicker at the ridiculousness before stopping himself when he sensed how serious this is for him. “Why are those factors that would make him better than you?”
Mariana shrugged his shoulders, looking down on his lap. “No sé. Él está contigo en lugar de mí en esta isla. Él debe ser mejor.”
It’s strange. He has never seen him act like this, so timid and insecure. He has only ever known the Mexican to be so confident in himself, it’s one of his best traits that make him so attractive in Charlie’s eyes. It hurts to see him like this, more than it should.
“Mariana, look at me,” He tips his chin in his direction, he keeps his hand on his cheek, lungs threatening to burst when his wife nuzzles his palm. “The only reason I keep him around is so that I don’t go stir crazy by myself.”
“Really?”
He nods with certainty. “I promise. I’ve never thought about touching, kissing and fucking anyone else.”
It’s only the truth. While he used to mention his faithfulness to Mariana like salt to a wound just to prove a point, he wholeheartedly can’t imagine himself loving someone else now, which is probably why he resigned himself to the fact that he’d be alone in the end.
Mariana’s hand burns as he touches his thigh and something equally familiar sparks in his dark eyes.
“Eso es mucho tiempo sin coger a nadie, no?”
When Charlie reads the translation above his head, he is helpless against the heat rushing all over his body, an effect only his wife could cause. He bites back a groan when Mariana boldly climbs over his lap, his legs on either side of him.
A trap, an allure.
“What are you suggesting?” He swallows around nothing. It’s been so long. It’s been so long. The air becomes thick and his breath has turned raggedy, his hands shake with an ache to touch, to feel.
When Mariana sees him struggling, his wife scoots intentionally closer to where he needs him most and right next to his ear, he whispers, “No estoy sugiriendo. I want you to fuck me on this bed.”
Something so vulgar spoken in his thick accent makes it seem more innocent. But when Charlie looks into his lust-filled eyes, he knows he’s a weak, weak man when it comes to his wife.
With a grunt, he surges forward with no intentions of holding back, injured shoulder be damned.
Mariana could barely think straight.
Thanks to his husband, he’s struggling to recover and catch his breath. He’s on cloud nine though, like heaven on earth, he must’ve reached a certain level of nirvana to feel so sated and rewarded. Peaceful, almost.
With his arm slung over his eyes, he felt the bed retract. He didn’t really hear what Charlie had said, blood was still pounding heavily in his ears. But when Mariana does take a second to tilt his head to the side, he gets to admire the strong dips and valleys of his husband’s muscles as he retreats towards a chest resting against the opposite wall.
He chewed on his bottom lip earnestly, realizing that Charlie was grabbing a clean towel for him, always such a caring lover afterwards.
“What?” Charlie grins beautifully at him. “Stop smiling. You look stupid.” He throws the towel to his face before returning to his place beside him.
“No puedo evitarlo cuando estoy cerca de ti.” He replied sweetly as his husband pulled the towel away so he could clean him up himself.
Mariana giggles. It’s always funny to watch his husband retreat into a shy schoolboy like the man wasn’t on a dedicated mission to make him scream his name and fall apart two minutes ago.
“That’s the sex talking. You always get so weirdly romantic right after.” Charlie cleverly pointed out with a small grin.
Mariana rolls over to be on top, cupping his husband’s sweaty face. “Y siempre digo en serio cada palabra, mi amor.”
Charlie doesn’t say anything to antagonize him, not anymore. It was something that he used to do before but now, Mariana gets to enjoy small moments like this.
“Por cierto, cuándo sucedió esto?” He asks once his hand lands on his husband’s firm and sturdy chest as he shamelessly starts coping the solid feel of him in appreciation. “You’re more strong. Strong and big, no?”
In response, Charlie had the audacity to be modest about it with a light laugh. “I’m not sure. Probably all the mining I did to pass the time.”
“Bueno,” The mere brush of their lips strokes the flames back into a kindred fire. He pressed a kiss on the side of his neck with a blooming bruise. “Wanna fuck again?”
Instead of a worded response, Mariana’s heart flutters when his husband traces the slope of his face with a thumb, a touch so incredibly gentle compared to anything that they’ve done.
“You insatiable bastard, what am I going to do with you?” He says affectionately, about to lean forward for another breathtaking kiss when the door swings open.
Ted stops dead on his tracks, screeching as he holds a hand forward, turning away too late. “Seriously? I’ve been gone for like twenty minutes!”
“I can last more than that, come on, man.” retorted Charlie with a shameless wink.
Ted makes a gagging noise as he hurriedly grabs his backpack from the other side of the room, refusing to look anywhere in their direction despite them being modest enough for a conversation.
“Gross. You two make me sick! You know what? Fuck this. No more mister nice guy. I was ready to be the bigger person and apologize but I don’t think the situation calls for an apology. I’m staying over the village for the rest of the day. Fuck you!”
Once he was done rambling and the door slammed back shut, the pair looked at each other, a little dumbfounded, before bursting into wild laughter that exposes the hidden youth within their eyes.
Right now, Charlie finds comfort in smelling the salt in the ocean air. He watched the flames dance between the strips of wood piled together in a campfire.
With his wife is sleeping soundly in the cabin, he takes the time to regain his strength, gather his muddled thoughts and put them together more coherently. He’s currently having difficulties finding his place in this world, which sounds overdramatic. But since Mariana’s unexpected arrival, all the love and affection he buried from deep within him, has resurfaced back and put him in a tight chokehold.
Charlie never stopped loving Mariana, he knows that. But there’s a drastic difference in being reminded of every reason why through every kiss and every touch. His compassionate dark eyes peering back at him lovingly will haunt him for a time, Spanish sweet nothings whispered in his ear, delicate fingertips over the goosebumps on his skin.
He’s supposed to be alone. Mariana complicates things for him.
“Está aquí. Por qué no me despertaste?” His wife approaches. Well, more like limping towards him.
Charlie tried not to be smug about it, putting his attention on the outfit that he’s currently wearing instead. It’s some dark jeans and a white dress shirt, Ted’s spare clothes perfectly fit him like a glove. In fact, Mariana makes such a basic attire look so good on him.
“You looked like you needed the rest.” He decided to be smug about it anyway, earning an eye roll as Mariana takes a seat on the adjacent acacia wooden chair identical to his.
“Pendejo, de quién es la culpa?” Mariana retorted sassily, unaware of the significance he gained just by sitting on that specific chair.
Never in a million lifetimes would Charlie see Mariana sitting out here.
Because when he made the wooden furniture, it was honestly just wishful thinking, a naive and positive outlook in a fucked up situation he created. It wasn’t anything other than to make light of being lonely. But then he faces forward, his heart breaks at the two empty stools across from him.
“Did you know that I built these chairs with our family and Tilin in mind?” He tells his wife, an unfortunate memory to look back on. But they have to talk about this. “I was gonna turn this into our vacation home once I bring the girls back to life.”
Mariana suddenly snaps his head towards him, something clicks in his brain. “You—you know about Juanaflippa?”
Charlie solemnly nods his head.
“Osito Bimbo came over and told me.”
Immediately, his wife knelt in front of him, holding onto his hands. The face he makes is filled with so much guilt and suffering, a helplessness to him that Charlie is incredibly familiar with.
“Lo lamento. Lo siento mucho. Te prometo que no fue mi intención. Yo estaba tratando de protegerla pero…” Mariana’s voice trails off brokenly, a distant look in his eyes as he recalls the painful memory.
Charlie stops him from continuing by running his fingers through his hair, hoping the action helps him calm down, even for just a little bit. “I know, Mariana. I know.”
His wife sniffles, leaning over his lap. “No estás enojado conmigo?”
He shakes his head no.
“What good would it do to stay mad at you? I was mad once and thought the world owed us their kids’ lives just because we fail to raise ours. We don’t get unlimited chances to be good parents, Mariana…” His voice trembles with emotion. “I think we’re just not fit to be one. Juanaflippa stood no chance growing up with us.”
It’s a painful realization to have, but it was necessary to be able to handle the truth. He’s not a capable fighter like Roier or Philza. He’s not filthy rich like Foolish and Vegetta. Fuck, he didn’t even have his own house, not really. He lived as a pathetic man and somehow he thought he could also raise a child.
“No digas eso, cariño.” Mariana mildly scolded, or as far as his current somber state would allow. “Fuimos grandes padres y hicimos nuestro mejor esfuerzo. Our daughter loved us. Eso es lo que importa.”
He knows his wife is only doing his best to uplift his spirits, but he knew better than to not die trying. When the girls come back, it doesn’t have to be him. He doesn’t have to be the parent or the uncle, as long as they’re alive. Someone can do a much better job, he’ll trust anyone but himself.
Charlie grits his teeth from sudden anger, irrational as it is corrupt. “It’s just… It’s not enough, is it? She deserves to grow up like everyone else, she deserves better!”
“Slime—“
“Everything we did for our daughter, everything that happened… It can’t be all for nothing!” His hands turn into tight fists as more tears stream down his face. “I’m bringing them back no matter what.”
Mariana pried his fingers open, preventing his nails from further digging into his skin. His teary eyes shine with fear and sadness and worry all at once.
“Qué pasa si no hay otra manera? Te vas a quedar aquí? What about me?” Mariana gestured a hand to himself, clearly hurt more than anything else. “I am family too. Tu esposa.”
Charlie shakes his head stubbornly.
He doesn’t get it. He doesn’t understand.
“This is bigger than us, Mariana. If it has to be me to die trying, then so be it! I can’t leave this place until I find a way to bring Juanaflippa and Tilin back.”
“Los niños se están muriendo!” Mariana blurted out.
His words, as morbid and mortifying, only catches Charlie completely off guard.
“… What?”
And so, Mariana does the painful job of telling Charlie everything, from the funeral the island held for three to Wilbur’s apparent daughter losing a life, from Leo and Dapper, and from Bobby, who died recently. It’s a lot for one heavy conversation.
He can’t believe what he’s hearing.
He can’t believe that this is happening.
“Si dices que no somos aptos para ser padres, qué pasa con ellos?” Mariana continued, wiping his own tears with the back of his hand. “Llamarías a Jaiden una mala madre? Qué pasa con Badboyhalo? Philza? Wilbur?”
Charlie shakes his head profusely as an answer, unable to find the voice to speak. Everyone he mentioned were the best of them as parents. But Mariana, he had more to say though, his thoughts were racing just as desperately.
“Estuvimos allí el uno para el otro cuando tuvimos que llorar por los niños. Te quería allí para el funeral… Al menos nos tendríamos el uno al otro, pero cuando murió Juana, yo no tenía a nadie.” Mariana cupped his face, imploring and begging with his eyes now. “Tenemos que estar ahí el uno para el otro, porque somos más fuertes juntos… Ven a casa conmigo, por favor. I’m begging you, please.”
His entire world has just shifted to a different axis. And all Mariana wanted was to bring him back home.
Home.
Charlie doesn’t know where that’s supposed to be.