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Ram Easthallow ([info]bifoliate) wrote in [info]heureuxlake,
@ 2025-05-06 20:59:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:Δ complete, Δ threads, → joe russo, → ram easthallow, ∞ 2001: 05

RP: Morning Glories
Who: Ram Easthallow, Joe Russo.
What: Waking up.
When: Tuesday 6th May 2001, morning?
Where: Chez M.
Warnings: PTSD symptoms.
Completion Status: Complete.

"JOE!"

Fighting off the sheets, Ram whipped round to see his own familiar bed empty, a chair knocked over under his legs until he kicked it savagely away. Where was Joe? Why hadn't they come back together? Had Joe somehow sent Ram back alone, had that been what his apology was for? "No, no, no." Ram's voice broke more and more on each word, pushing himself to his feet with fingertips that seemed still to be tingling.

Leaning against his bedside table, he found his phone, plugged in and charging where he most definitely had not left it when getting into bed with Frankie. Yanking it free and finding the button to call Joe all at once, he clutched the phone so hard his fingers spasmed while he waited for it to ring.

"Joe?" Please be Joe. Please, please, please. Don't be Frankie. Or worse.


It wasn't the yell that truly roused Joe from his long sleep but his phone. Joe cringed, curling away from the harsh noise. It was worse, somehow, than the sounds of bombs and tanks that had plagued him for weeks, either sent to taunt him by Ares or conjured by his own mind as his sense of self flickered between the tower in the void and each of his previous deaths. This noise was electronic, a cacophony of tones that he couldn't immediately recognize as music, despite once spending an hour programming in every single note.

Even when he did remember that the noise was his ringtone, his brain hadn't caught up with the reality of where he had been and where he was now. All he knew was that it was too much so, eyes pressed tightly shut, he reached out blindly to grab the phone, determined to throw it as hard and far as it could.

It was that noise, the clatter and crash of his brick-like phone hitting something hard, that jolted him back to awareness. He jerked in surprise, twisting in bed and recalling that last kiss and the relief that had raced through him as he had hauled Ram into his personal space with what little strength he had left.

"Ram?" Tears pricked at Joe's eyes like needles and he could barely breathe.
So focused on listening to the ringing in his ear, it wasn't until it abruptly cut off that Ram realised something else had stopped at exactly the same time. Something Ram recognised.

Trying to take a step away from the table, Ram's knees wobbled, too loose to support his weight. The question of how long he'd been asleep swam around and around his head, not quite connecting to anything. Long enough for Frankie to go back to West Point? But Ram didn't want it to be Frankie. Long enough for his mom to arrive?

Step by unbalanced step, Ram made it to the door, where at least he had something to lean against. Letting the wall support him, he went the long way around the landing, not bothering to knock at the guest room before he pushed inside.

It wasn't Morwen in the bed. It was - Ram tensed, fight or flight kicking in like it never had before looking at this particular face. He scanned the crooked nose, the blue eyes, searching for something, anything, to confirm the wild hope beating in his breast.

What convinced him was the shell-shocked expression, the look of someone as emotional and more haunted than Ram currently felt. Taking a step, his limbs failed to support him and he fell to the floor by the bed. "Joe?"
“Ram.” Joe nearly choked on the word, tearful and overwhelmed by all the sensory information that the world bombarded him with, the texture of fabrics, scents, temperature, ambient noise, everything that he has been lacking in the void. He nearly fell off the bed, lunging for Ram as he dropped to the floor. He wrapped his arms around too-thin shoulders, the pair ending in a tangle half on and off the bed.

He felt real. This was real. Everything was real. Too real and pressing in on him everywhere that wasn’t touching Ram. Eyes wild, Joe hauled, finding strength in some unknown part of himself to pull Ram onto the bed with him. He buried his face in the crook of Ram’s neck, tears coming in earnest now, arms wrapped tight. Too real. Too much. Joe could hardly stand it but he didn’t want to let go and risk slipping away again.

Any lingering doubt evaporated as strong arms wrapped around him. Frankie had needed to be asleep for Ram to even touch his wrist, there was no way he or any of the past lives would be embracing Ram this desperately. Despite the crushing hold, Ram breathed more easily than he had in weeks as he folded his body around Joe, fitting into the spaces that were meant for him. Cheek against Joe's hair, hand fisted in the back of his shirt, chest-to-chest so that Ram could share every inhale.

Feeling tears soak into his shoulder, Ram murmured wordlessly, letting Joe cry it out for as long as he needed. The story of the last month still had so many gaps, but all Ram could think about right now was having Joe back, not wanting to move or ask questions lest it somehow break the spell. The fierce, black-magic part of Ram that had kept him scratching at unyielding brick had not fully settled back to sleep; it wanted to bind them together so that Joe could never leave him like that again.

Shying away from that thought, Ram had to trust his voice to find something gentler to say. "Home. We're home."
He'd been alone for so long that Joe had forgotten what it was like to be touched or be held. Surrounded in a blanket of Ram, Joe let out every sob without care, torn between curling into a ball and making himself as small as possible as he had for the last few weeks or holding onto Ram for dear life.

Joe knew where he was and who he was with but it was hard to fully trust it. If he slept again, would he just end up back in the tower? He shuddered at the thought, eyes screwed shut and simply concentrating on trying to breathe normally.

"You came for me." Joe's voice sounded strange to his own ears. He sighed against Ram's neck, breath hot and ragged. "You got in."
Guilt sliced into the pit of Ram's stomach, twisting his insides until he felt like he might be sick. If he'd had Frankie send him to the void in the first place, how much sooner could he have been with Joe? If he'd done the brave thing, the soldierly thing, instead of trying to call Joe into safety with a message?

With a bone-deep chill, he knew he'd have to tell Joe that eventually. Make sure Joe understood that Ram was not some hero who'd marched immediately to his rescue.

But not now. "Always," he promised. Next time, if there was a next time, he would know better, get to Joe faster.
"He didn't think you would." Joe inhaled sharply as he tried to quell another sob and he exhaled in stops and starts. "He didn't think anyone would." Ares would have kept him there indefinitely, his mind withering under the pressure of isolation.

Joe managed to pull his head back just enough to be able to peer closely at Ram, eyes haunted but awed. Little by little, his hold on Ram became less crushing but was no less firm. "I knew if anyone could find a way to get to me, it would be you." He didn't know how he would be able to make this all up to Ram, to repay him for the years of his life that he had just been given.
As Joe examined it, Ram's face creased into total confusion. Ares might be a bastard, but he wasn't stupid, and Ram assumed he had more or less total knowledge of everything that happened in the void place and in Joe's life. In what world could he possibly think nobody would come?

"Frankie had to scold Judd to stop him from coming." At least, that was how Ram remembered it. Ram might've been first, but he had no doubt there would've been a line behind him. Not just Giulia and Cris but even Alessandro, no matter how much he distrusted the magic required.

With his free hand, Ram cupped the side of Joe's neck, an uncomfortable shudder running over him as his thumb rasped against the barest hint of stubble on Joe's jaw. "It wasn't just me." Later, Ram would show Joe the sketchbook, full of unfinished outlines of people clustered at Joe's bedside. His mom, his siblings, Sam, Jani, Judd, even Barrett.
"Judd." There was something about Judd, Joe thought. Something about Judd that he needed to remember. Whatever it was, it felt like a lifetime ago. He knew it would come back to him, that his memory would settle with layers upon layers and he would be able to pick it out, but for now there was confusion. "Wouldn't have worked." That was all he could be sure of, but beyond that he was at a loss.

The touch of Ram's hand, gentle as it was, sent a whole slew of sensations through Joe's body. "How long?" His brow furrowed. "You said Beltane but I…" But he didn't remember when that was exactly. Before midsummer, he was sure, except now that he thought about it he couldn't even remember the date that he'd first fallen asleep. "Everything's sort of… broken." In his head. Everything in his head was broken apart but he was sure he could put it back together in time.
With no way to know what Joe was thinking, Ram nodded. "Judd was here. Cris, obviously. Giulia, your mom." His attempt at his most reassuring smile was somewhat undermined by the fact his gaze was fixed firmly around Joe's ear. "We didn't tell her anything you wouldn't want us to." Ram had been so careful, addressing Frankie as 'Joe' until Donna left and trying to smile at him like a friend.

Lifting his gaze to Joe's blue eyes, still swimming with pain, Ram felt the twist of guilt lash through him again. Though his usually quick tongue faltered over the answer, at no point did he even consider holding it back. "It was a month." So much longer than it had needed to be, if only Ram had gone straight into the void. Frowning again, he glanced around for anything which might tell them the current date, but Joe's phone was on the floor by the wall and Ram's was still in his bedroom. "A month when I last went to sleep. But that wasn't last night here." More than that, Ram couldn't be certain of.

Dropping his hand, Ram's voice thickened. "I'm sorry I wasn't faster."
His mom had been here? For a moment, half a dozen different mothers flashed through Joe's mind before landing on his mental image of Donna Russo. If she had been here, Ram must have told her something about why he'd been sleeping for so long which meant she now knew more about the sort of magic he was mixed up in than Joe had really intended. Guilt gnawed at him for dragging his family into even the edges of his own Greek tragedy, wanting them to remember him as just a normal man…

Except now he might outlive both his parents, the possibility so strange that words stuck in his throat. His fingers rubbed anxious circles on Ram's back as he tried to process what that could mean. "I'll have to talk to her," he decided, though he had no idea where to start.

Ram's apology had Joe shaking his head. "You did your best, baby. Better than I could have ever dreamed." And there were more tears gathering in his eyes again.
Ram's first thought was that Donna would be so relieved to hear from Joe - until he remembered, face falling as he leaned back into the comforting circles of Joe's fingers. "She, uh. She thinks you woke up already." Did Joe already know that? Were Frankie C's memories already in his head? Frankie C's new judgement of Ram now that they'd finally met? "When we tried to call you back with magic, Frankie showed up instead. Your Frankie." Knowing it must be a lot to take in, Ram tried not to tumble words out at Joe all at once, but the urge to explain and justify his choices was strong. "We knew you didn't want her to know, about Domenico or any of the others. So Frankie pretended to be you." If Joe thought they'd made the wrong call, Ram would take the blame for it. At least Joe was back; it hadn't gone the worst it possibly could.

In the space between his apology and Joe's response, Ram had time for a horrifying new thought. What if the challenge had been to get Joe out in a week? Or even two or three? What if by being so slow, Ram had killed all their hopes of a future together? Anxious hands clutched into the t-shirt at either side of Joe's waist. "I didn't-" He could hardly get the words out, and Joe's tears just ratcheted Ram's sudden panic higher and faster. Even if he'd failed, Joe would believe it to be Ram's best. "Did I fail the challenge?" It wasn't fair. He should at least have known what it was! "Did I-" The end of the sentence was just a sob.
"Oh." So she wasn't here now. Joe tried to parse the timeline, trying to fit together what Ram was telling him alongside his own experience. "Okay." At the mention of Frankie, Joe felt a headache start to bloom between his eyes, triggering the memories. He didn't remember everything all at once but he could tell that there was more there than just a couple of days that he would need to sort through. It was hard to determine right now whether Frankie had been successful at fooling his mom but he hoped it would buy him time to feel more like himself again.

Joe could feel Ram's panic rising before he clutched at his shirt. He inhaled, shaking his head and trying to find the right words to soothe him. Ram had succeeded but not in the way he expected; Joe had changed the terms of the curse and he wasn't prepared to admit the extent of what he had done. All he could do was hope that Ram, and any others who came after him in the future, would forgive him one day.

He sniffed, trying to tame his emotions when there was still so much coursing through him. "No, no." Joe lifted a hand to stroke through Ram's long, unkempt hair. "You did good. You did so good." The idea of Ram falling apart when Joe was already feeling as if he could shatter was too much. "That was the challenge. Prove that I was worthy of rescuing." As much as he felt Ram's love, he didn't know if he would ever truly feel worthy of the lengths Ram had gone to to bring him home. Telling Ram that he would need to stay in the Army was something that could wait until another time.
As Joe's fingers pressed into his hair, Ram let his head fall forward, brow brushing Joe's collarbone. His hands relaxed, settling more gently in place. The first words soothed him, but the rest made his neck jerk back up with a twinge, sure he must have misunderstood. As painful and desperate as his ordeal had been, it didn't seem enough. Not when Ram had convinced himself they'd have to fight a dragon or a phalanx of Spartoi.

"The first challenge?" It couldn't be all. Joe couldn't possibly mean that it was over. Ram couldn't even let himself consider it, certain the hope would rip him apart if he let it get its claws into him. There had to be more, coming soon, and they were barely holding themselves together after just one. Sitting up, still within the circle of Joe's arms, Ram tried to straighten his shoulders under the weight of threatened future fights. They'd succeeded. At a horrible cost, and it was Joe who'd suffered the worst of it. "Do you… do you want to keep going?" Would Ares let them turn back?
Joe's chest felt like it was going to cave in from the pressure of Ram's emotional pain, feeling it as if it was his own. "That was it. The challenge. Only…" Fuck. How did he tell Ram about the deal he'd made without actually telling him? His headache was getting worse, Frankie's last few weeks layering on top of his own. "Only I had to give something up. Not you," he added quickly before Ram could catastrophize. "Never you." It was Ram that he'd done this for and he wouldn't give him up unless Ram decided that he was done with the Greek drama. "I have to stay in the Army." He'd given up the chance to pick his own future path, but at least there was a future for him now. They could make it work, they had to.

"I'm sorry. I should have done more." He should have been more careful with what he'd said to Ares and he was always going to regret that.
Ram, notorious for processing too many things simultaneously, suddenly couldn't grasp the one very simple thing that Joe was trying to tell him. His mind kept slipping sideways off it, gaze going unfocussed. Silent and still, he sat long enough for his heart to slow to its natural rhythm, his breath coming deep and evenly as his fingers toyed with the worn fabric of Joe's shirt.

Finally, voice soft and small, Ram asked, "You don't have to die, my Joe?" The plainest possible language. It was everything, too vast and unknowable. And it ached that Joe didn't get to choose his future career, that Ares had still taken something from him in punishment for a crime he'd had no part in committing, but they'd make it worth it. They could paint the rest of Joe's future in any colours they wanted. A dog, a cottage, a wedding. They could go abroad, have kids, plant a tree and see it bear fruit.

Sharply, he shook his head. He didn't need more. Not unless Joe regretted his decision. "Am I worth it?"
Joe stroked a lock of hair from Ram's forehead, marvelling at every texture he could feel, every sensation, even as it threatened to overwhelm him, a tremble in his fingers. Focusing on Ram made it easier not to let his thoughts break off in a dozen different directions. "Everyone dies eventually, kitten," he said quietly, visions of his past deaths too close to the surface of his thoughts for comfort. "But no, not any time soon." He would make it to his sixties if he was lucky. With a swooping sensation in his stomach, he realized that he was like every other human on the planet with no clue when his expiration date would be. It would likely be sooner than average but there was a bone-deep freedom in not counting his life expectancy in months.

"Ram." He cupped Ram's cheek, knowing why he needed to ask. "If I hadn't met you, I never would have considered doing any of this."
Not any time soon. Ram's eyes filled with tears, chin wavering and mouth contorting into inelegant shapes that made Ram lean forward to hide his face against Joe's neck. He was going to throw Joe a 29th birthday party. Joe would teach him to drive their first solar-powered car. One of Ram's hands crept down to Joe's wrist, wrapping his fingers around it, certain Joe would understand without words. They could get their matching tattoos, their 'happily ever after'.

It had been a month, and more than a month, dayless hours of pain and toil, since Ram had last heard that endearment. The tears spilled over, splashing hot against Joe's skin. Ram's body simply wasn't big enough to contain the relief and joy and disbelief all at once. He wanted to say a million things and nothing at all. Wanted to curl into Joe's arms and wrap himself around him at the same time.

He let the gentle hand on his cheek lift his face up to meet Joe's eyes, finding a genuine smile for the first time in too long, in spite of the unchecked tracks running down both cheeks now. "All my wishes came true." Joe had painted him a star to wish upon, and against all odds it had worked.

Hiccoughing a sob into a laugh, Ram really did try to say everything at once. A jumble of 'thank you', 'I love you' and 'I missed you'.
Ram's reaction was so much, the tremble in Joe's hand spreading further as the emotion leached into him. He loved that Ram felt things so fiercely and was rarely afraid to show that but now it was making his heart race in the worst way. Joe grasped at the back of Ram's shirt, not sure whether to hold him close or ease him away as his chest tightened.

Am I worth it? He wanted to ask the question but he couldn't find the words, feeling increasingly lightheaded. Ram seemed to think he was; Joe had his doubts that he was worth everything that had happened or all the potential heartache that could come from loving him.

"Missed you," he replied genuinely to Ram's jumble, voice tight and trying to squash down the bubble of panic. His own cheeks felt taut with drying tears, but he found a smile despite everything. "It's been so long."
Too long. Much too long. Maybe later, Ram would try to update Joe on all that had happened in his absence. Or maybe he'd realise that most of it, at least on his part, had been worrying about Joe and not really worth retelling. Unlike at Christmas, Ram hadn't tried to go out and do fun things to occupy him.

Joe was clutching at his shirt and as Ram pressed closer, he could feel the trembling in his muscles. Slowly, he smoothed his hands over them, trying to cover as much of the movement as he could and will peace into Joe's body.

Presumably, Frankie C had kept eating and sleeping normally while Ram had been asleep. Physically, Ram wasn't sure what Joe might need. He wasn't even sure what he might need. They should call Sam. Soon, but not yet. Ram wasn't ready to let anyone else into their little bubble of emotions. "We're home," he said again, marvelling now, trying to adjust to a world turned upside down by Joe's news.
It was only Ram's familiar weight on him that made Joe feel as if he wasn't going to spiral off and out of his body. He let Ram's hands stroke and smoothe, trying once again to focus on breathing. In, out. Oxygen. Fuck, the room felt so small.

He fixed his gaze on Ram's face to block out the way that the walls encroached. It was as true as it had ever been when he'd said it: Ram was his home. "You made it happen." His hand slipped to curl around the back of Ram's neck, thumb stroking back and forth. "I love you."
It seemed frankly impossible that Ram - mostly human, so reliant on others, incapable of following a recipe - could have been the one to make this happen. And yet he had been there, through every minute of pushing himself to keep scrabbling at the wall. He might not have reached the void entirely unaided, but in it he'd been as alone as ever in his life. Still, he shook his head. "We made it happen." Without the love Joe had given him over these last ten months, there was no way Ram would've had reason to keep going.

Tilting his head to give Joe's fingers more access, Ram sighed shakily. He was still too keyed up for contentment, but the rhythmic touch was at least a beginning of feeling like things would return to normal. Better than normal, now that Joe knew he didn't have to die. Not for a long time. Thoughts were beginning to trickle in. People who would be worried and want to know Joe was awake. Questions about Frankie C and where he was and how Ram had treated him.

But this moment with Joe was more important, and Ram hummed a wordless affirmative of his own reciprocal love. "Just want to be with you."
"We're not going anywhere." Joe's touch was just a shade desperate, sure that the walls really would close in if Ram left the embrace of this bed. He would hold Ram for as long as he could, hoping that his love would make him feel worthy, just for a while.

He heard a noise from somewhere else in the house, the innocuous sound of a cabinet door closing, but it made Joe flinch as though he'd heard a bomb dropping. "Sorry," he gasped, heart thundering.
Not going anywhere. They had a good history with that. Ram nodded, his hands inching up to Joe's shoulders, then sliding to his chest, pressing over the hidden tattoo. He literally felt Joe flinch, with no idea what had caused it. He didn't quite pull his hands away, but they lightened, fingertips rather than full palms in contact with the fabric.

"Did I hurt you?" The physical damage Ram had taken at the base of the tower was healed, skin whole and smooth once more. The phantom tingle was (must be?) just a trick his mind was playing, like waking up from a dream of foraging frostweed and curling into blankets despite it being the middle of summer.
"Noise. Someone. Kitchen." Eyes wide, Joe tried to suck in a deep breath but his entire chest felt too small. The words to say that he couldn't breathe were right there on the tip of his tongue, though he couldn't say them. Instead, rapid, shallow breaths conveyed what he couldn't and Joe desperately tried to sit up, pushing Ram away and not even able to hate himself in the moment for doing so. His head swam and he didn't know how to position his body so that he could breathe. Joe faintly recognized the feeling of panic but he didn't know why he was feeling it.

He grasped at Ram's hands, anything to anchor himself when he didn't really feel as though he was fully in his own body. If anyone could make him feel right again, it was Ram.
Ram had never seen Joe so wild-eyed. Loving him as deeply as he did, he ought to know how to calm him, but he'd never needed to before! Joe was the balanced, protective one who grounded Ram's overexcited emotions. "It's okay." Ram fought to keep his voice even, knowing that panicking about Joe panicking was only going to make it worse. "Just Barrett, probably." He seemed the most likely of the housemates to be both home and in the kitchen.

Then Joe was pushing him away, the only contact their joined hands. Ram squeezed tight, not willing to let that go, too. Running on pure instinct, he sat himself upright, guiding one of Joe's hands to his belly. "Breathe with me." Despite his efforts, Ram couldn't repress a thread of urgency, even as he deliberately exaggerated the motions of his inhale, just the way Nicole had done when she'd taught him to breathe into his diaphragm rather than his chest. His other hand rested in the same place on Joe. "Breathe here."
Barrett, right. One of the new housemates. That felt like forever ago. Cris would be in the house too. Or at work? Maybe? Joe didn't even know what day or time it was. His thoughts skittered from one thing to another, trying desperately to fix on just Ram. The hand on his belly didn't help at first until his body started to instinctively mirror Ram's exaggerated breathing.

Slowly, he came back to himself, feeling like he was once again present in his body as his breathing evened out and his heart rate slowed. He released his tight grip on Ram's hands, feeling like he could cry but not sure he had anything left in him left to cry with. "Sorry. Sorry." Something inside him was broken. Joe screwed his eyes shut, ashamed at his reaction to a regular household noise.
As soon as Joe's breathing seemed to steady and he released his grip, Ram shuffled cautiously back into his space. He wanted nothing more than to wrap Joe up in his arms, and possibly also a blanket. "Let's-" Ram made a vague motion to imply all the ways they could arrange themselves. It should be Joe's choice, whatever would make him feel most secure.

He murmured hushing sounds under Joe's apologies. Even if he didn't understand what was happening, he knew it was nothing to blame Joe for. "You did so good," he echoed Joe's earlier words. Ram could never thank Joe enough for making the choice to fight, for giving Ram the rest of a lifetime. "What do you need, my Joe?" Ram really didn't want to go out and face the world, be distracted by explanations, but he felt like he would if it was what Joe needed. He'd do anything if it was what Joe needed. "Water? Breakfast?" He tried to remember what Frankie C had needed when he first woke up, but it was far easier to remember what he had needed so badly. "Being held?"
Joe sighed, frustrated that he didn’t know what he wanted. He needed space to be able to breathe but he also needed to be able to feel the comforting reality of Ram’s body against his. Torn between the two options he felt utterly paralysed and then Ram offered him more options and he could only laugh weakly at how their positions were reversed.

“Everything. Nothing.” His limbs were still shaky which made him err towards breakfast, though it had felt like an eternity since he had actually thought about food. “Breakfast? Then see how I feel?” He wanted to be the Joe he had been before he’d been trapped in the tower but he wasn’t sure how or if that was even possible again.
Extremely familiar with wanting everything, Ram nodded, leaning in to press the very lightest of kisses at the corner of Joe's mouth, lips barely even meeting lips and mostly brushing against cheek. It had been weeks since they'd kissed in reality, maybe it would help. "Okay." As much as possible, he stayed close while he shifted the pillows into the corner of the bed, so that Joe could sit up in the V between two walls. Being held, but not being held. Everything and nothing.

With obvious reluctance, Ram finally tested the strength of his legs again by trying to stand. They seemed to work better, and before Ram could kneel to check under the bed for the gift box to Aphrodite, he heard a quiet scratching at the door. Opening it, he could not have been less surprised to see the electric-shock face of Trouble. While Ram stooped to lift him, Trouble weaved through Ram's feet to scramble up onto the mattress. "Your very favourite guard cat." Or maybe it was just that Trouble had favoured sitting on Joe's chest while he'd been sleeping.

Ram paused in the doorway, anxiety flooding the pit of his stomach that if he left, Joe would be asleep again when he came back. Or would be Frankie again. Feet frozen to the floor, he had to close his eyes and breathe deep. This was real. Joe would live. And Joe needed Ram to be brave and go fetch breakfast. "Shout and I'll come back," he promised. Then, not liking how that sounded, amended it with, "I'll come back anyway." But if Joe shouted, he'd drop everything to come back faster.
Ram was so gentle with his kiss that it made Joe’s heart ache. He wanted so badly to be the Joe who would pull Ram back into bed and be as physical as he had ever been. Instead, he let Ram carefully nudge him into position, back cradled by the pillows and his head resting in the corner of the room. Once he was settled, Trouble claimed his lap, allowing Joe’s hand to stroke down his back.

The world seemed so impossibly big and he felt incredibly small, even smaller than he had in the endless void. "I know you’ll be back," he assured Ram. "And I’ll be right here waiting." Leaving wasn’t an option, physically or otherwise, and Joe was determined for Ram to find him right here. "Love you, my Ram."
The words, offered in a voice that sounded like Joe, caught Ram completely off guard with how much they made him want to fling himself back into the bed, tuck his head against Joe's chest and listen to the steady beat of his heart. Once again, his eyes filled with emotion, hastily wiping at his cheeks so he wouldn't push Joe back over the edge of worrying that something was wrong.

If he was going to go, he had to tear himself away now, leaving the door ajar. Ram made a sincere, if ineffective, effort to move ninja-quiet through the house so that he wouldn't trip into anyone who was going to be surprised to see him awake. It was more luck than skill that Barrett had left the kitchen already, giving Ram time to rifle through the cupboards. There was none of Fina's tortilla left, but he found boxes of Honeycomb and Cinnamon Stars cereal.

Rather than find a tray, Ram grabbed both boxes, bowls, spoons, a carton of milk and a bottle of water to carry up the stairs. After a brief hesitation, he detoured to collect his phone, too. A call to Sam was definitely in order to make sure they were both physically fine.

Once more pausing in the doorway, relief lifted a weight from Ram's shoulders to see Joe still there. "Room for me?" he asked, since Trouble had taken up residence in Joe's lap.
With Ram out of the room, Joe tested the edge of his fear by closing his eyes. His hand continued to gently pet Trouble, the little purring vibrations beneath his fingers soothing. When he didn't immediately get catapulted to the void, something inside him seemed to unknot in relief. Supervision came in the form of Scorn slipping into the room and finding a spot on the windowsill from which to watch. "I didn't mean to leave him," he found himself telling the imperious cat. "You know that, right?"

Trouble's tail twitched against Joe's thigh and Joe sighed, looking from one cat to another. "I'm not his keeper," he pointed out, fingers idly toying with Trouble's fluffy ears. "He's responsible for what he chooses to do." He didn't speak any kind of cat language, but he could imagine what they might be thinking. "And I didn't know how this was all going to play out." Somehow, the cat on his lap was lowering his heart rate and he could breathe freely for the first time since he'd woken up. He could remember now the way that spending time off duty with his working dogs had always had a similar calming effect, always making it easier to clear his head.

"Where's Chaos? With Morwen?" Scorn only started grooming her front paws in response. "Is Morwen here?" It seemed likely, he thought with a start, if Ram had succumbed to a curse-like sleep.

Joe felt warmed to see Ram in the doorway again, though it was only now that he registered what he'd unconsciously felt earlier, that there was less of Ram than there had been before all this. "There's always room for you."
Worry about Joe brewed in the back of Ram's mind, but it was wrapped in a cocoon of relief and comfort of knowing Joe was back. Even Ram, expressive to a fault, didn't know how he could possibly communicate to Joe the way it healed his heart to hear Joe's voice.

Depositing his loot within easy reach, Ram crawled onto the bed, settling himself against one wall so that his shoulder could bump Joe's. "It's so good- I'm so glad -" Even with only the smallest imagining of what Joe had been through, it felt like the wrong word. "Just love you," Ram settled on, the only complete sentence he could summon.

Leaning forward, he reached for the breakfast things, offering Joe the bottle of water. It wasn't what he'd asked for, but he could drink it while Ram juggled milk and cereal into bowls.
"I know." The knowledge that Ram loved him was a constant reassurance over the last few long weeks, one that had helped him cling to the last strands of his sanity when they seemed on the edge of fraying to oblivion. The walls pressed in just a little as Ram's shoulder nudged against his and Joe ducked his head, concentrating on Trouble's furry form instead.

"Not everyone would do what you did," he told Ram quietly. "I’m so lucky to have you."
At first, Ram's frown seemed to be directed at not spilling milk all over the bed, but it didn't smooth out even when he finished and handed one of the two bowls to Joe. "Yes they would," he insisted. "For the person they loved." Of course, Joe wasn't that person for everyone. Someone on the street who'd never met Joe might have walked away from the tower rather than getting him out. But nobody would leave their soulmate stranded if they had any choice in the matter.

In fact, Ram didn't really feel as though he'd made a choice at all. He'd kept going because getting Joe out was the only possible option.

Something about Joe thinking he was lucky felt deeply wrong in a way Ram couldn't put his finger on, the frown still wrinkling his brow.
"It’s not just the rescue from the tower," Joe said, taking the bowl and trying to ignore Trouble's annoyance that he was giving Joe the honor of petting him and Joe was going to pass on that in favor of something as mundane as food. Joe felt a prickle of claws against his thigh and gave Trouble a stern look. "You can have the leftover milk," he promised, stirring his bowl.

"Look, we knew each other all of five weeks before I told you about the curse. You could have walked away from everything but you stuck with me." Just as he could have called things off if he hadn’t been able to handle a queer relationship. But in those early days they had both made a commitment beyond anything either had made before. "You stayed. You felt and expressed all the anger I’d never been able to. You’re… you’re my miracle."
Had it really only been five weeks when Joe had told him? It must be, because Joe was much better at keeping track of time than Ram, unless the number 23 was involved. "Five weeks I'd been waiting for all my life." He'd been as sure then as he was now that Joe was his soulmate, someone he wanted to keep for as long as he was allowed. He'd never have walked away.

Anger did wash over Ram at the word, furious with Ares for what he'd put Joe through. What he was still putting Joe through. What he'd asked of Ram didn't matter. He hadn't asked the one thing Ram had known he couldn't give, and that was a miracle enough all on its own.

Leaning into Joe's shoulder, Ram melted at the highest praise Joe had ever given him. "But you're my miracle," he breathed. The way Joe had accepted him so completely? The perfect words and endless ability to not just cope with but appreciate all of Ram's 'too much'? "It's not luck. It's mutual." The words still weren't right, coming a little quicker as Ram tried to get to the heart of what he was trying to say. "Whatever I give you, I get just as much. More."
It had felt right to tell Ram about himself after such a short time too, even with the fear that he was going to break Ram's heart by admitting that he was slated to die. Being honest with himself, Joe still wasn't sure that he wouldn't break that beautiful, generous heart one day, not with the deal he'd struck with Ares or with the career that he was tied to. It wouldn't sink in for a while what effect Joe's commitment as a soldier was going to have on their relationship long-term. If anything could be too much for Ram, it might be Joe getting deployed or assigned anywhere in the world. Would Ram pack up his whole life and leave his friends to follow him? Would he stay here and try long-distance?

Joe turned his head, kissing Ram on the temple. "I'm going to believe there's some luck on our side."
"Fate," Ram insisted, feeling stubborn. Fate had meaning. Luck was random, and there was nothing random about the way they fit together. Abruptly, he remembered that fate had only very recently started being kind to Joe, the tight line of his jaw relaxing as he relented. "Maybe there's both."

In his heart of hearts, he still didn't think so. "We…" Nothing was arriving in the form of words, just images, the way it had early in their relationship whenever Ram had attempted to tell anyone how Joe made him feel. "I don't love you because you got lucky by being in the right place at the right time. I love you because of who you are." It felt desperately important to communicate, and Ram wasn't sure he was making sense.
Fate, luck, some greater power that was actually on his side. Joe shovelled a mouthful of cereal into his mouth, only then noticing the strong cinnamon flavor. Ram did make sense, Joe thought, swallowing. Fate was definitely doing something different for him this lifetime and it had brought Ram straight into his path. If Joe had the chance to do the night they had met all over again, he wouldn't change a damn thing, except for being slightly more sober.

"I feel the same way." Ram wasn't in a million years - or a half dozen lives - who Joe would have imagined he would be soulmates with, yet this connection felt undeniable. Some memories from the last few weeks filtered back in, Frankie pretending to be him talking to his mom while Ram sat by looking like a shadow of himself. Even Frankie, someone from an era where being closeted was normal, could tell that Donna wasn't buying the platonic friends explanation. It wasn't fair that he'd put Ram in that position. He took a breath. "And when we're both ready, I'm going to introduce you to my mom the way I should have a long time ago."
Instantly more comfortable on hearing Joe felt the same way, the urgency seeped out of Ram, leaving him still draped against Joe's shoulder. The bowl of cereal in his lap made his stomach swirl in a way that either meant he was far too hungry or else that he was going to be sick, and he honestly couldn't tell which. Maybe if he just looked at it for a while longer, that would clear it up?

His body tensed, genuinely startled by Joe's casual determination to introduce Ram to his mom. The horrible thought raced through him that maybe he was still dreaming. All of this, the tower, Joe's return, the curse being lifted, could all just be what Ram wanted to happen. From her windowsill, Scorn meowed at him, as if appalled at the suggestion Ram could possibly dream her. She was right. Ram's dreams, when he'd slept at all, had certainly been of Joe, but never of success. Ram had never dared hope that the challenges would be over.

He'd been silent too long, and he didn't know what he'd done to make Joe want to include Ram in his family life. Was it just the time they had together now? He let go of his spoon to nudge Joe's thigh with two fingertips. "I want that so much it scares me I might still be dreaming," he admitted, voice small. "But you don't have to. I'll live with you as pretend bachelors if that's what you want."
Joe wasted no time in reaching over and pinching Ram's arm. He wasn't dreaming and, as far as Joe could see, telling his parents was the only right thing to do.

"Look, I never explained myself well when it came to my parents." So many of his thoughts had just got stuck somewhere between his brain and his mouth, relying far too much on the fact that they seemed to understand each other so instinctively about so many other things. "I never wanted them to know about the curse. When I died and they mourned me, I wanted things to be simple for them because losing me was going to be hard enough." He turned his head, not kissing Ram again but letting his lips brush gently against him. "With all the magic and fate, you kind of became part of the curse, part of my secret."

There really was nothing left in him to cry with now, yet his eyes still prickled. "I was scared they would reject me for loving you." More scared of that than he was of dying. "So I didn't want to lose them when I didn't have much time left."

He had so much time now. Decades of it. From Frankie's memories he could see that he wasn't going to be rejected. It might be an awkward transition but he could live with that. Joe sniffed. "Also, I say this with all the love in my heart, not a single person believed that we were just platonic best friends, not even my mom."
The pinch wasn't hard enough to hurt, and once Ram realised what Joe was doing, a short, sharp laugh broke out of him. It was the first in weeks.

"You didn't have to explain yourself. I knew it would be weird, when it's just me." Joe wasn't bi, he just loved Ram. Honestly, Ram could understand not knowing how to tell people and whether it was worth the trouble. Even if being someone's secret went against every LGBT principal he'd ever held or learned.

Wanting to hold Joe's hand, Ram refrained only because he also wanted Joe to eat and feel well. "They still might," he pointed out. "I'm not-" His throat closed and he gestured for the bottle of water until Joe handed it to him and he could take a sip. "They won't like me." His voice had gone toneless again. The only people in Joe's life who did like Ram were Guilia and Cris. If Ram hadn't been able to make Frankie C like him, his chances with Alessandro Russo were nonexistent. "You don't want to lose them now you have time, either." Which was exactly why Ram was offering to live a lie, and why he couldn't see that it would only become less and less convincing the longer Joe didn't find a nice girlfriend.

His mouth opened into a little 'o' of objection. "But I was so careful! I hid everything." He hadn't slipped up and called Joe 'mine', not even once. "If anything, I made it sound like you were dating Jani."
Joe took another spoonful of cereal, shaking his head as he chewed. "I've seen her when she doesn't like who I'm dating." Teenage Joe had been on Donna's disapproving side when he'd brought home girls she didn't deem good enough for her little boy. "She likes you." If he was wrong, he now had the time to try and win them around or show them that he was living his life happily and wholly, regardless of what they thought.

"Baby," he breathed, indulgent and adoring. Ram had tried his best, but there was no way he could have maintained that deception for more than an hour. "The way you love me shines out of you." It was hard to feel truly worthy of it. "Not even magic could dim that."
About to point out that Joe hadn't been here, Ram blinked as realisation set in. "Frankie's still in your head?" He'd never been sure whether breaking the curse would mean Joe lost that. Apparently, Ares was feeling exceptionally kind, both in the challenges he set and letting Joe keep the bits of the curse he didn't actually mind.

Maybe it was the adoration in Joe's tone that finally gave Ram the strength of will to try a spoonful of cereal, slightly too soggy now and feeling exceptionally weird sliding down his throat. With a shiver, he turned his attention to more pleasant things, like that love for Joe that had bedded itself permanently into Ram's psyche. "It could be unrequited, as far as they know?" That felt even worse than the idea of lying about being Joe's best friend. Ram didn't want to imagine a world in which he loved Joe like this and only got Frankie C's awkward platonic 'buddy' in response.
"He's settling back in," Joe said, the headache not gone but a damn sight less painful than it could have been. Apparently two weeks worth of memories were easier to absorb and process than five lifetimes. "And, to be clear, he didn't dislike you either." He could remember Frankie's guilt whenever he caught Ram looking at him with longing and despair but Frankie hadn't been forthcoming about his own feelings. A lot of things had gone unsaid that should have been said and Joe was going to take the full blame for that.

Sighing, Joe balanced his nearly-empty bowl on the bed, which Trouble naturally saw as his chance to start drinking the milk. "Why are you so determined to think people in my life are going to hate you? Because they're not decked out in rainbows and glitter like your friends?" He leaned his head against Ram's, hoping to make this very clear. "Frankie was right. I do want to be Joe Easthallow someday. So if anyone in my life has a problem with that, that's my burden to deal with, not yours."
It sounded like an accusation, Ram's eyes flashing as he turned so he could see Joe more fully. Before he could say a word, Joe was confirming what Ram had already assumed would be their future, Ram's defensive urge to swipe back draining out of him leaving behind a sense that, yeah, he really needed to follow up on what they'd talked about and see someone professional.

"No," he insisted, stubborn but calm. "I just -" A vision of Joe curled up in the corner of the tower room swum behind Ram's eyes. "I want you to be surrounded by people with love shining out of them. Your mom? Your dad? They love you so much, my Joe." Having seen their worry up close, Ram wanted to believe that nothing could make them change their minds, but he'd known too many gay teens turfed out by their parents in his home state. "I don't want to be the reason you only have me. You should be my Joe, and their Gio, all at once."

Ducking his head, he relented. "If you think that's possible, of course I want you to tell them. I'll learn to make pecan logs and we'll have a Russo reunion in our cottage with as many of your family as we can fit."
"I am. I'm Joe and Gio. But I've kept those sides of me separated for too long, so I need to fix that. I'm going to be truthful about who I am and who I love." It wasn't as terrifying as it had been before; Joe understood Ram's worry that he would end up alone, cut off from his family, but he no longer believed that would happen.

Though he felt a spike of panic as he leaned in, Joe pushed through it and kissed Ram lightly, letting it linger this time. "Our family. The ones we're related to and the ones we choose." Since he'd met Ram, the concept of found family meant a lot more than it ever had, even for a soldier.
"My Gio." Ram had used the Italian forms of Joe's name before, but if Joe truly wanted to join them together, Ram could use them more often. Closing his eyes, the tender brush of Joe's lips was almost too good to be true. A temporary new checklist unfurled in Ram's mind, things that had been normal and then had been gone. Several had already been checked off, hearing Joe's endearments and feeling Joe's arms wrapped around him, but there were so many more. Waking up tucked against Joe's body, hearing Joe laugh, seeing Joe's unrepentant smirk.

Pulling back, his eyes were wide and awed. He'd never really considered that Joe's family would become his, apart from Giulia and Cris who were already part of Ram's world. Parents, and grandparents. "I did tell Frankie I assumed I'd be a Russo." He just hadn't extended that beyond Joe until this moment. "I still can't quite believe it's real. That you'll live." If it was too much for Ram to take in, how much more must it be for Joe who'd lived with the death sentence for nearly a decade? "When we don't feel so-" he waved a hand to indicate their general unwillingness to leave the bed - "we'll have to celebrate."
"Me neither." It was real and he was going to live - really live with love and flowers and cats and a whole host of other important things that he couldn't even think of right now. "Might take a while for it to sink in." His thumb stroked Ram's chin, a smile creasing his eyes. "We'll celebrate us and life and everything else." There had to be some kind of festival coming up on Ram's calendar that would fit.

"Right now I just want to… exist here with you." If he could be here with Ram, maybe he could handle being around other people too.
Joe's smile was beautiful. Ram didn't know whether he most wanted to kiss it, paint it or just remember it forever. "We've got a while." The rest of their lives, now. No more needing to remember how many years until Joe turned 28. "I think we should do something special for your birthday." That was over a month away. Surely it would have sunk in by then? And the next day would be their anniversary. A whole year together.

Shuffling back against the pillows, Ram nodded. At some point soon, they would have to call Sam and Giulia and go find Cris. They should be the first to know that Joe was awake. After that, Ram could work out how long he'd slept and make sure to give his friends the good news that he was back. For now, everything Ram needed was here in this one room.


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