Archive of Our Own ^beta

«It's not you. You know i love you so much»

This wasn't true, but it wasn't entirely a lie either. Branzy loved ClownPierce, he really did. Him, not his lifestyle and ways, that made him go through everything he had.

«But I can't keep living like this»

The assassin didn't say anything, just stood there, the grinning mask hiding away everything he ever felt. Maybe Branzy was expecting too much from his lover, Clown probably guessed it would happen eventually. Especially after what happened to him almost 2 years ago.

***

Branzy is used to being kidnapped, or tortured, or being used as a bait. That's what you get for loving a killer clown. Being his only vulnerability. But that was okay, Clown always rescued him anyway, so really, can even complain about anything? It was warm and cold, sweet and bitter standing there, under Clown's umbrella. That's what his love was always about.

So Branzy didn't panic when somebody hit him with a bat on his head. Well, he did freak out, but because it was sudden and – for the record – the bat hit him really hard. Tension, arms reaching to shut his mouth – it wasn't something entirely new to him. The more you experience it, the less you actually care. So Branzy even complimented the kidnapper mentally for the professionalism.

Then he was tossed into a car. That's how things like this always went. Some idiots kidnap him, get him to the secondary place and then Clown blows their head off. Might as well get some rest waiting for them to reach the destination.

However, something was bothering Branzy. How long were they driving exactly? It felt like a whole day of non-stop moving has passed. If the secondary is too far away it might take Clown a good amount of time to find him, then again, his partner always kept his eyes on his enemies, so it couldn't be that bad.

It couldn't, right?

That's when this nervous, unsettling feeling filled Branzy's guts. «Calm down, don't jump to conclusions yet» – he tried to breath in and out. The car has stopped, and he prepared to meet his kidnappers face-to-face.

Trunk opened, and 2 tall guys looked at him. They were wearing white humanoid masks, making sure their identity couldn't get revealed. «Working anonymously, huh?»
Then he was knocked out with a bat.

When Branzy woke up, he found himself being thrown in a basement-like room. Before he could even say anything, the door was locked shut. Examining his surroundings, he came to shocking conclusion: it was really really dark. And cold. It's the middle of winter, and the room obviously didn't have heating. Adding to it, his warm jacket was completely gone, making his abduction even more unbearable. Well, maybe if they sell it, it'd be easier for Clown to track them down.

His hands weren't tied, so he ran one over the wall. It wasn't obsidian, but concrete, he was right and it is a basement. Trying to stand still (which was hard, because his head was still spinning) he examined the room. Empty. Just him, the darkness and a door.

With nothing better to do, he sat and wondered, who's torture will come first: his or his kidnapper's?

***

To Branzy's surprise, they were nowhere to be found.Were they even coming to speak, or, well, torture him? Hours went by, and nobody came. How much longer now? The coldness has already crippled into his bones. Freezing, he wished to have something, anything to stop concentrating on it. But it's him and the unsettling silence of his temporary home.

He doesn't have to worry about anything. Clown has surely already noticed his partner's disappearance and is searching for him. He's fine, Branzy is fine. As fine a kidnapped person could be. Just need to pass the time. And with that thought everything around slowly became to fade away (as if there was something to begin with) and he fell asleep.

-Only to be woken up by the sound of door closing. Goddammit. Didn't get to see what was behind the closed door.

Then he noticed something was placed next to his feet. Slowly, reaching through the dark he grabbed what seems to be the plate with.. something. Food, apparently. A small rectangle, couldn't really make out what it was. Only one way to find out.

With caution, Branzy bit the piece of (to his surprise) meat. It was the most dry and tasteless meat he has ever tried, but again, he was a kidnap victim, so he really won a jackpot. And it gave him hope.

If his kidnapper feeds him something like that, then they want Branzy alive as long as possible. Probably. He didn't like being used as a bait, because it means he bothers Clown and, well, what if he decide he doesn't need Branzy anymore? No, he has time to do self-blaming later. To his calculations, it would take a week or more in a worst case scenario, if Clown has something more important to do, which he definitely does.

..Better to focus on something else, for example this pain in his stomach. Before eating he wasn't even feeling hungry. And now it's so intense he just falls on his side. It could also mean a good amount of time has passed, meaning he has to wait less now. Is that how it works?

Just need to wait. Luckily, he's the best at keeping himself busy.

***

...Maybe not. Seriously, how many day has passed? The darkness wasn't helping keeping the track of them, even if his eyes have already adapted. And even if he doesn't notice himself shivering anymore, it doesn't make anything better. Can't it give him at least a hint? Does nobody really coming for him?

No, couldn't be true, he hoped it wasn't true. He hoped we wasn't forgotten even by his kidnappers. He hoped we was just impatient. Yes, impatient. It probably wasn't even one day, one hour even. Yes, he was just a brat.

Absence of light treaded Brazy. His head in his hands, ready to be crushed by it. The weight of weightlessness and silence was making him insane. He felt like screaming, crying out loud, but that feared that if he was to break the unspoken boundary of silence it will kill him. That if he wasn't dead yet, which he wasn't sure in anymore. Was he sleeping, or was he just staring at nothing for days?

He really needed to keep track of time. Doesn't matter if it's accurate or not. Just something to make sure time even passes in this hellish place.

***

A touch. Somebody is touching, shaking, waking him up.

Branzy knew there was nobody here.

«Already hallucinating?» – opaque has spoken.

What kind of a sick trick his brain is playing on him?

***

Does anyone even knows he's missing?

Rekrap. Even before this torture they've been meeting rarely, mostly just writing letters and all. It was a normal thing for Branzy to stay in Clown's base for weeks.

Nobody probably even noticed.

He wish he felt being cold again. He wish he could concentrate on being cold rather than self-loathing.

«You really should have a calendar»

...Right, why doesn't he have a calendar? That would be useful.

***

Day 3. It must be day three because today they've given him a third meal and it must mean it has been 3 days because why would anyone feed him more than once a day that would funny wasnt it.

He held the piece of bread for an eternity. It was nice having something. He doesn't feel like eating it. Might as well keep it.

The opaque hasn't spoken today. Maybe it had something better to do.

Maybe the world had something better to do.

***

Day 4.

They didn't bring anything. Maybe they understood he doesn't need this anymore.

No one is coming for him. No one is going to save him.
Clown promised. Promised to keep him safe. This is nearly nowhere to be safe. Maybe it is. Maybe Branzy spending so much time with a killer clown made him trust him. He shouldn't have. Why would he.
Opaque has left like everyone else.

***

Day 5. Day 4 lasted so so long. Absurd. 5 days and he's already died. 5 days and he's gone. Branzi was even weaker than he thought he is. Maybe a death like was inevitable for someone like him in a world like this.

Maybe. Maybe. MAYBE MAYBE WHO KNOWS IF IT MAY OR MAY NOT BE

Hes been lying on the floor for the last 29 hours he should get up already maybe if he spent that time digging his way out then maybe he woukld already be out and maybe he didnt have to rely on people that werent real

maybe if he was stronger

more cautious

he wouldve heard the steps and avoided this alltogether

but he was weak he was weak when weak even had a meaning

was he ever getting out of the dakness

no

it will be dark

forever

for he is lying in his grave but for some reason he still thinks if you could call that thinking maybe the world thought death wasnt enough for him

wish they would end it

***

Branzy wakes up from loud thud of the metal door. An artificial light coming out of it is too bright for him. Unable to even close his eyes, he locks his sight on the tall dark man.

It's could mean 2 things. Either that they have given up trying to get anything out of his dead body and decided to end everything. Or...

«-zy?»

Clown.

It's him.

He should be happy. Branzy knows that he should be crying with tears of happiness that it's Сlown. But he couldn't.

He didn't feel anything.

«-zy! Oh go-»

Only fragments of his speech reaches him. Clown voice is too loud. Too loud.

Branzy doesn't say anything. He wasn't ever able to speak. So he just stares.

Branzy doesn't even try to make Clown feel guilty, or sad, or disgusted, or to pull out any human emotion from behind that fucking faceless mask.

But he still hears Clown make a long pause. And he knows that underneath that mask Clown's eyes are watery as he glances of what is left of him. He knows that Clown is trying so hard not to scream and break his facade.

And he feels the touch. And he feels how slides his bare hands over his neck and face. And Branzy feels his skin melting away because his touch was warm. Hot, as hot as sun and it burned him. But he doesn't say anything.

And stares.

«-et out of here.. Branzy, I..I will g-»

Next thing he knows he is being picked up easily. Oddly easily but it's not like it matters. Now he knows that he's sleeping again. But he doesn't want to, because he will have to wake up and be back on that cold hard floor in that dark lonely room. He doesn't want to hope anymore.

But Clown's hot as stars arms keeps burning him and the pain doesn't let him even try to escape the Morpheus's kingdom. That's when he realizes

he might never wake up from this dream.

Everything around is on fire and pieces of candy and leaks of light and Branzy now is a non-calibrated redstone mechanism that may explode at any given moment.

***

Something soft is now around his body, sweet and colorful and it's too much. And Clown is wrapping him up, gentle and sweet. AND sweet. Clown is sweet. Too sweet, everything is too sweet and Branzy might throw up.

Then Clown is done and tries to leave. But if he leaves the dream might crumble again and Branzy didn't want to leave it anymore, so he held onto his arm with all of little strength he has. And Clown stops for a moment.

The engine roaring. They're driving somewhere. An Branzy feels that he's slipping again and just prays that he doesn't wake up in complete darkness again. Please.

***

Therapy. Branzy hates taking his meds as much as he hates eating or talking now. It's not like he could choose what to do with this body anymore.

The first emotion Branzy felt was fear.

He couldn't shake off the feeling that everything is not real. That it's a dream. And s every time he woke up with this wrenching feeling inside and always made sure there is something near him. So he looks around as he lies in a hospital bed.

A table. A pill bottle. He grabs it and shakes it in his arms a few times to hear it rustle. It was still loud but at least he could do something instead of just lying.

He places the bottle back and looks. Near it is a plate with some food on it. He really tries not to think about it because even imagining food, its aroma and texture made him sick. His body didn't need this anymore.

Next he stops at wall. It was a really nice wall. Different colors danced in a perfect contrast. Soft light pink with brownish orange and violet. He could be looking at it for hours, just how pretty it was.

A door. Half transparent, it was visible that there are people standing outside and talking about something. He had no interest in them talking.

Next to him. Something small and soft. A stuffed bunny toy. Now he remembered. Clown gave it to him because Branzy was holding so hard onto his arm when they got here a week ago or so. He slowly picked it up and looked into it's black dot eyes, in which he could see his face. The plush's eyes were empty, nothing alive in them. Just like his own.

«-ike it?»

Clown. Sitting besides him. Neither of them know what to say.

Branzy stared. Clown sighed.

Branzy's world have failed him.

Clown knows that he failed Branzy.

So Clown collapses before him and places his head on his partner's legs.

32 days. For 32 days Branzy has been dead before they pulled him out of his grave. And it all was so sudden and loud and Branzy is sure he has forgot something very important in his grave, but everyone were so fast he didn't have the chance to get it back.

He came back, and know they're trying to artificially create something to fill that gaping hole.

Branzy really carefully touches one of the bells on Clown's mask and it makes a nice little «ding!». So he does it a few more times.

Then they lead him to another room. It was more cozy, with darker green walls and a fireplace so nice and soothing, it almost felt safe. Almost, because he didn't feel save anywhere now.

Turns out the person, whose name he couldn't hear, was his therapist. And now he has to talk. And it feels so painful to try forming sounds he says nothing.
***
The second emotion Branzy learned after being reborn was longing.

He spent an awfully long time in that hospital. Therapy, endless checkups, medicine and walks were doing their part, and he now could actually use his limbs and form speech but there was still something wrong and it couldn't be fixed by anything.

So here he was, standing outside and letting the breeze hit his cheek as it runs near him. The best part of spring, he saw flowers blooming and the sky was clear for the first time in an eternity. Actually, he was waiting. Clown said that a certain someone is here to meet him.

«Heya»

Branzy suddenly turns his head and see them. It appears that «someone» was Rekrap.
Rekrap, the only other person in the world he ever trusted so much.

And, at that moment, it felt like ice breaking for the first time. As Rek hugged him and it felt like something so familiar and reminding of home and distant at the same time. And if Branzy could cry, he would. But he simply wasn't able to. Instead, he hugged him too, even tighter. And he discovered something. And he never knew that longing could feel so intense.

And he started longing. Longing for touch, yearning for calm breath, desiring. Maybe even too much.

It was one of the few things he could feel.

***

Then came anger. The uncontrollable fury for everything: people around him, surroundings, himself. And Branzy didn't know how to handle it.

A clear, sunny January morning, almost an year from what happened. Branzy and Clown had moved together into a distant base in snowy taiga. It was mostly for Branzy though, the endless forests and half-planes were calming and silent, but in a good way, silent in slowly falling snow, bird wings flapping, the winds blowing and knocking in your window kind of way. Clown still had to visit the spawn and close areas, but he made sure to always be back to evening, because Branzy didn't like being alone either.

Branzy would wake up late in the morning and build something, a mechanism or a small building, so they made sure there were always the right tools and materials in their chest. By the time the sun is gone, he would already have returned to the underground base and organize things over and over again. Or just wander around, because it was a nice new home. All walls and ceilings are made of wood from a nearby forest, in harmony with green plants all over the house and darker red carpets, lamps that were warm and attracting him like a moth.

Then, when Clown returns, they spend time together. Sometimes Clown had to go farming or was coming back really late, but most of the time they just cuddled together in bed filled with various blankets and pillows. The sound of slow breathing was rarely interrupted by Clown sending a message to his teammates. Branzy mostly just laid. In the morning clown would wake up early and go away, leaving Branzy with his routine.

And it was so good, ideally even, but.. something still was wrong. That burning feeling, he noticed it in how annoyed and even hysterical he could become when a machine was not coming together or how he hugged his partner, clenching his nail into him, not because he was trying to hold him, but instead just of anger. Those thoughts, this hatred was now following him whether he was alone or not.

It was boiling his organs, and in order to let all this steam out, he started training.

And this morning was like one of his recent ones: he started waking up with the sun and training to shoot. He even build some mannequins for this, moving ones too. Every day, every minute he was training his movements became more fast and elegant, now shooting a few ones in a second. Fighting never was his thing, but this time, just this time, it felt right.

He turned around rapidly as he heard the snow crunching under someone's feet. Clown shook his head and a few bells on his mask did a nice sound.

«He-ey, up early in cold?» He yawned.

Cold? This wasn't cold. Branzy was wearing a nice warm sweater and jacked, so that wasn't cold, he was not cold at a chance.

Then Clown did a few steps towards him, and Branzy turned away and kept on shooting. Another bunch of arrows and the doll's body is nothing but a mess. Clown was both impressed and concerned about it.

«So-o, what are you doing, BranzyCraft?»

Another calm, quiet line. It took a comically large amount of time for Branzy to actually answer, and any other person would think that he doesn't want to talk, but Clown was patient, just like Branzy was with him a lifetime ago.

«Training.»

«Why?»
Another bunch, and he was out of arrows, so he went to the dolls and started to pick them out of their stuffed bodies.

«Just want to be prepared»

«Prepared for what?»

Clown was asking too many questions and it annoyed him, so the arrow he just pulled out has pierced the training doll «eye». Then he was hugged from behind, clown resting his head on Branzy's shoulder like a cat.

«BranzyCraft, you know I'm not letting you in a fight»

Pause.

«Not when I've just got you back»

Oh the irony.. Branzy actually chuckled.

«It's really just training Clown, don't worry»

But when he turned around, Clown wasn't in his sight anymore.

***

And at last, like a final puzzle piece, was love.

And with love in his eyes, and with sincerity in his voice, and with cold as reality is fingers he held his lover's hands together.

«Thank you for everything you did for me. It hurts me to say as much as it hurts you to hear it, but i have to leave. I'll go far, far away from this land, where nobody knows my name. ..Please, don't wait for me»

Shaking, he carefully pulled the mask off to give him a tender, sweet kiss. It felt like an eternity, just standing there, listening to each other heart bits before leaning away.

«I love you. Goodbye.» Branzy whispered before flying away.

ClownPierce stood in the same spot for another million years, feeling the aftertaste.