Week 2 - dreamshare catchall with Sandalphon

[fragileprophet]

[The week is filled with dreams.]

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[melancoffeea]

[He discovers now that that wound, though old, is still raw as it burns from the sincerity of Ion's words. Sandalphon doesn't look at him; his voice, faint.]

You're wrong . . . I don't deserve anything. The things that I did after those memories . . .

[He swallows. That's enough. No more.]

[fragileprophet]

[Feeling his cheeks and his eyes beginning to burn again at the sound of Sandalphon's quiet words. Silently, he wipes his eyes on his sleeve.]

You're really strong, Sandalphon.

[melancoffeea]

[This time, he cants his head to appraise Ion. He doesn't believe that—not even for a second.]

No . . . It's you who's strong. You returned the love of your people with love of your own.

[fragileprophet]

[It takes Ion a moment to realize what Sandalphon's referring to. So that was what he saw this time?]

It's the least I could do for them. How could I not care?

[He pauses, his fingers wringing together.]

I've never loved someone the way that you have. I've never felt anything like that before. Like just a glimpse of one person could erase every wrong you've ever had to suffer.

[melancoffeea]

That person . . .

[He purses his lips. His feelings about Lucifer now are complicated—or perhaps simpler than ever.

He can say the same for himself. Ion's memory was the first time he felt so supported and loved.

He fears what will come next.]

Are these dreams going to continue?

[fragileprophet]

I think they may, yes.

[He closes his eyes. He, too, feels apprehension.]

If this is anything like the way we felt last week while separated for too long at a time. I'm sorry, I hope they won't bother you too much.

[Ion is the one who was weeping, but, you know how it is.]

[melancoffeea]

[Ion.]

I should be saying that. Most of my memories are the same. You might see something like again . . .

[He doesn't wish that pain on anyone, especially on someone so pure and loving.]

[fragileprophet]

[He shakes his head.]

It's alright. You shouldn't have to apologize for having trouble in your past. I'm sorry that I'm...taking this so poorly. First yesterday, and now today.

[He puts a hand over his heart. He's just...so weak. Still, so weak and useless. He can't even handle something like this, can he? What good is he?]

[melancoffeea]

Handling my memories isn't your responsibility. It's mine.

[He sighs. He guarded the finer details up to now, and what good has it done? Perhaps he shouldn't sleep, so that he can wake Ion at the first sign of . . . anything, really.]

Sorry.