Slept So Long Without You

Author: Poisontaster 

Fandom: Aeon Flux

Rating: U Het

01. Aeon/Trevor. All ages.

I don't know…what this is…but it's good to see you."

He cannot help the tremble in his voice any more than he can stop his legs from buckling the moment he is out of her sight. How.. he thinks. How is this even possible?

Contaminated.

The word has haunted him—all of him—down the corridors of time along with her face. The face that watched him with such cold disdain, such calculated hatred. It cuts him.

The night falls and he has only the message he's given her and the desperate—so desperate—hope that she will come. That maybe she, too, can somehow be recovered from the wreckage.


02. Aeon/Trevor. Implied/unrequited Oren/Trevor. Adult.

"Trevor has been moving away from us for a long time."

Oren's stomach feels sour and thick as he watches them, his jaw aches. And yet he cannot look away. He knows that the Council thinks he means them when he says us, and that's all right.

But they're not us. Not like he and Trevor. Not like he and himself, or the self-that's-yet-to-come. And Trevor…Trevor has forgotten those who love him. He's still trapped in the memory of Catherine and chasing the seeds of all their destruction.

Inside, Oren shakes, filled with a fury he cannot fathom and sickness he cannot plumb.

Trevor is his. Not Bregna's, not hers. His.


03. Aeon/Trevor. Adult.

"You were an idea, kept alive. Something I had to imagine."

But it isn't true. Not just an idea, not quite a figment of his imagination. But he cannot tell her of that. Can't speak of the dreams; of being next to her, being inside her, being with her again. The memories are particularly strong in him; Trevor-before-him had hypotheses why, but he could do nothing and after a while Trevor lied and said they were gone.

Strange things, sometimes; the smell of her, the places she is/was ticklish, the arch of her back as she comes.

He knows her and starves for a day she'll want to know him too.

04. Aeon/Trevor. All ages.

"Now we can move forward."

She looks out over the wilderness, burning and broken nearest to them and fading into snarls of the unknown beyond. She thinks it a fitting metaphor, and an appropriate legacy. This, then, is what she has to give, greater than her life or Trevor's.

She looks to her right and he is there. It doesn't seem strange anymore, or hateful, it only seems appropriate, as if Catherine's ghost has settled into her skin and together, they are more whole than they ever were apart.

There is joy in his eyes and she knows, looking back, that she is the same.

-fin-