’I mean, to call it playing hero... it’s not exactly like that, c’mon.’

Blake tapped at the hand holding his head down, wanting to lift his gaze properly.

Myles didn’t move it right away. He kept it there, but the pressure eased, fingers no longer forcing him still, just resting, like he hadn’t decided whether to let go or not.

"Look, I wasn’t trying to get myself into a fight, but I couldn’t just stand there and watch him get hurt, either."

"Why."

"Eh... I guess it’s because I’ve got no reason to ignore it, either."

Even if he wanted to drag Myles into the excuse, it probably wouldn’t have worked. And right now was the worst possible time to risk irritating him, let alone pushing him into actual anger, something Blake had never really seen.

’Although I doubt he’ll ever be pissed off at someone because of something like that.’

Looking at that face, Blake took a slow breath.

"I’m feeling lightheaded. I want to lie down."

Myles finally took his hand, helping him up and guiding him over to the bed. As soon as Blake lay down, he rolled onto his side, patting the spot next to him.

Myles just stared down at him.

"Don’t you want to?"

After a moment, he did. He lay down beside him, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Blake reached over, fingers brushing his shoulder, trying to pull him a little closer.

"Hey, listen."

Myles shifted without protest, turning onto his side too, finally looking at him.

"Why are you annoyed? Tell me, so I know what to try and avoid."

For a few minutes, Myles didn’t answer. He just looked into his eyes. And honestly, that was fine, Blake could wait.

But the answer never came.

He couldn’t read him at all, and strangely, it didn’t frustrate him. Because Blake could tell, he wanted to say something. He just couldn’t, for whatever reason.

’Then, maybe it’s some kind of suspicion he has about Asher...’

That wasn’t good, not at all. That would only speed things up in the worst direction possible.

Blake smiled anyway, a little uncertain. Taking Myles’ hands, he pulled them up and wrapped them loosely around his shoulders.

"It’s okay if you want to answer later. You can just say it then."

Blake then hugged him, staying like that, his arms loosely wrapped around Myles as he leaned in, his forehead resting against his chest. He let out a quiet sigh there, warm against the fabric.

For a while, he didn’t move.

He just stayed there.

Listening to the steady rhythm of Myles’ breathing. The faint rise and fall beneath his cheek. It was calming, in a way he didn’t really want to think about too much.

But his thoughts didn’t stop.

He couldn’t help it.

Why had Myles looked like that earlier?

That tension could be perceived in the way he spoke, in the way his hand lingered just a bit too long, in the way he told him not to play hero.

It hadn’t sounded like annoyance.

Not really.

"I don’t want to see you getting hurt over things that aren’t your business."

Myles’ voice broke through his thoughts, low and steady.

"And I wasn’t annoyed."

Blake blinked slightly, his fingers tightening just a bit where they rested against him.

He pressed his lips together.

Why was this so difficult?

And at the same time... why did it feel so rewarding?

Even just this, just getting a piece of it, a small explanation,.it felt like something earned.

"...I’m glad you told me," Blake said quietly, lifting his head just enough to speak properly. "But it was my business."

Myles didn’t interrupt him.

"I brought Asher there. I mean, yeah, I didn’t know those guys would show up, but still. I can’t just pretend it has nothing to do with me."

His voice was softer now, but steady.

"That’d be worse."

There was a brief silence, then, Myles replied.

"He can defend himself."

Blake froze for a fraction of a second.

Indeed, that wasn’t false. Still, Myles wasn’t supposed to know that.

Or, at least, not yet.

For a moment, Blake didn’t respond.

Then he laughed.

"Yeah? Then you should probably get your eyes checked," he said, nudging him faintly. "He looks pretty damn scared most of the time to me."

Myles didn’t answer.

He never said things without a reason. Never just assumed.

Which meant, Blake couldn’t push it any further.

He slowly tilted his head up again, meeting Myles’ gaze. Myles was already looking down at him, quiet, unreadable.

"...I get it, though," Blake added after a moment. "I’ll try to keep myself in check."

It wasn’t a promise. Not really.

But it was something.

Myles’ hand moved, coming up to pat his head gently. The motion was slow, almost absentminded, but then his hand shifted, sliding down just enough to cover Blake’s eyes.

Blake let out a quiet breath through his nose.

"...You’re doing that on purpose."

No reply.

But the hand didn’t move away.

Blake didn’t push it either.

He just stayed there, letting himself relax against him.

But the lightheadedness hadn’t gone away.

If anything, it was worse now.

That floaty, distant feeling creeping in, pulling at the edges of his awareness.

"Myles..."

He didn’t even finish the sentence, since his body gave in first.

And just like that, everything faded.

***

Black again to an empty place with no shapes or sound.

Blake didn’t react at first.

’This is a nice way of slacking off.’

It was always like this when it started. The most boring kind of dream, if it could even be called that.

Sometimes, he’d try to fill it. Imagine something, force something into existence just to pass the time.

But this time, he didn’t feel like it, be just stood there.

Not even thinking much. Thinking felt heavier here and considerably slower.

Like it didn’t quite work the way it should.

Time passed.

Or maybe it didn’t.

Then, he heard someone crying. It was faint, at first, so Blake didn’t move, ignoring it.

It wasn’t unusual for something to appear eventually.

’Better to just wait it out.’

But the crying didn’t fade, actually, it got louder.

Blake frowned slightly.

Still, he stayed where he was.

But it kept getting louder.

And louder.

Until it pressed in from all sides.

’...Alright, alright...’

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair before forcing himself to move.

The space didn’t change.

It was still black and empty but now, at least, it had direction.

The sound gave him something to follow.

So he walked.

Or at least, he tried to.

It wasn’t easy. There was no ground he could really feel, no distance he could measure. The sound shifted strangely, sometimes closer, sometimes further, like it didn’t want to be found.

But eventually, something appeared.

His expression tightened immediately.

’Myles?’

It looked like him, like in those pictures in the house from when he was a child.

Blake stepped forward and, reaching out instinctively, he felt a sudden

It tore through him the moment he got too close, forcing him back with a sharp inhale.

’...What—’

He tried again.

Another step.

The pain came back, worse.

He stopped.

’...Hey!’

His voice echoed oddly in the empty space.

’Why are you crying?!’

No response.

The child didn’t react.

Didn’t even seem to hear him.

’Hey, what happened?!’

Nothing.

’Why do you look like that?!’

The crying didn’t stop or change, since the child couldn’t even hear him.

Blake clenched his jaw slightly.

’This is unnerving...’

He tried again.

Another step forward, and the pain surged again, stronger than before, forcing him to stagger back.

’...Tch.’

His voice dropped.

Frustration creeping in.

’Why can’t I—’

The scene shifted.

Instantly, the crying stopped.

Silence.

Now, Myles stood there, looking older, facing away from him, looking at something far ahead.

That same invisible barrier was there again. That distance he couldn’t cross.

’Myles!’

No reaction.

Blake frowned, stepping forward, there was no pain this time.

But the distance didn’t close, it stayed the same no matter how close he tried to get.

’What are you looking at...’

Myles didn’t answer.

Slowly, he lowered his gaze.

Not toward Blake.

Blake followed it and, looking down, he felt a dirty feeling inside him.

A grave.

Blake’s breath caught, so he woke up sharply.

His arm stretched out on instinct, with no pain.

Just the familiar weight of reality settling back in.

The bed.

The quiet.

The warmth.

He blinked slowly, grounding himself.

He was still here, laying down and holding onto Myles.

Blake exhaled softly.

Myles was still there beside him, breathing evenly.

Blake shifted a little closer anyway, closing the small gap that had formed.

His hand moved up without much thought, fingers brushing gently through Myles’ hair. Slow, absent strokes.

Then he poked his cheek.

Lightly.

"...You look pretty asleep," Blake murmured.

No response.

He watched him for a second longer.

Then again.

Another poke.

"...Still asleep?"

A pause.

"What are you doing?"

At that moment, Blake felt like laughing and crying.