Damn Impressive
Over the years, it became increasingly difficult for Cornelius to blackout.
When he did, he usually took his time coming back to himself the next day.
But this time, the moment he teased the edges of wakefulness, consciousness electrified him.
Literally, his whole body jolted with the sudden realization it was awake. Alive.
Cornelius released a shaky exhale, and his body greeted him with waves of pain.
He opened his eyes, first taking in the nearly full moon peeking around the edge of a canopy …
no, well not just canopy. There was a thick roof over his head, constructed of palms and makeshift beams. The walls around him were secure, and he lay upon something familiar.
Canvas, maybe. He shifted his head to better see Watt sitting beside him, cross-legged with his chin tucked against his chest. He occupied the single open side of the shelter, the entrance big enough for them to pass through but no more.
Moonlight reflected off the coursing river and wet stones that were a short distance beyond Watt, and illuminated him with an unnatural brightness.
The watercolor set that Cornelius had gifted him was in his lap.
Blue paint was smudged all over his fingers, which still clutched at his work and brush despite his ragged snores.
Cornelius' heart skipped a beat, which reminded him of how it had struggled alongside his lungs.
Of how for a moment there, it felt like it had stopped beating.
His body was heavy, but his chest especially.
Each breath was laborious, like he was dredging air from mud.
Instead of reaching for Watt like he wanted to, he cataloged the ways his friend had changed since the last time he saw him.
His hair had been bleached to a light gold during his time in the sun, as had the lengthy beard which was thin and patchy in places, no longer dark.
Watt's hair was damp and uncombed, which had the knotted ends curling against his shoulders.
His complexion had darkened greatly, and numerous sunspots and freckles decorated his hollow face and flushed neck.
He was thin and flecked with injuries, scratches and welts and bites and even a nasty slice through his right brow that had been left to heal the hard way, leaving the scar angry and rough.
If Cornelius had to guess, Watt was lucky he hadn't lost the eye.
Ultimately, Watt looked like Cornelius felt.
He hadn't realized how much of a physical toll the trip had taken on them until abruptly removed from that gradual transformation.
He was the thinnest he'd ever been in his life, with still some fat around his stomach, but he felt weak and unhealthy, his energy drawn from a shallow well.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been out for.
His injuries had a fresh sort of twang, but were well tended to as was the rest of his body, dressed in fresh dry clothes.
Watt had built a shelter, which could've been done on the second day or so, but he had no idea.
It had been daytime when he dove into the water, right?
Regardless, he'd been asleep long enough.
He needed to piss, which was an amazing sensation after being dehydrated for so long, but the thought of moving was a daunting one.
He laid there in denial for another minute or two, idly petting Maggie laying beside him.
She slept hard, her weight heavy and leaden against Cornelius' side.
He didn't mind. She could sleep on top of him for the rest of her life, if she wanted.
Without Maggie looking out for him, Cornelius would've been lost to madness and worse.
Why she had abandoned Watt in favor of looking for Cornelius he would never know, but he would also be forever grateful.
He'd tried to shoo her back to camp, but she had insisted on following him on his stupid quest for water.
What should've been a few hours trip at most, had become a nightmare.
He was stiff and sore in muscles and bones he didn't even know existed until he tried to use them.
And fuck, his chest hurt. His bad leg protested in an aggravated fashion different from its usual gnawing ache, and his shoulder screamed from the confines of the sling put upon him.
If he didn't intentionally flex his bandage wrapped ankle, it was a mid-level pain that simply existed.
With as much stealth as he could, he sat up and tested it once, just a little, and hissed out a curse.
“Cornelius?” Watt startled awake, sending his work to the ground as he lunged for the place Cornelius had once been.
“Easy there,” Cornelius said through gritted teeth and a stomachful of bile. “I'm right here.”
Watt blinked, processing that Cornelius was sitting up of his own volition. He shifted and promptly took Cornelius' hands in his, then bent down and brought them to his forehead. “Oh, thank God.”
The nausea building in Cornelius' gut subsided a little, replaced by relief.
Staring at Watt while he slept was nothing compared to holding him, being held by him.
If Cornelius were a God fearing man, he might've thanked Her too.
Instead, he pulled a small, hoarse laugh from deep within his tired heart, just for Watt.
He whispered, “It's alright, my love. We're okay. We're together again.”
Watt's head lifted. His lips, still peeling but recently moisturized, parted. He stared at Cornelius, throat working as he tried on a few different words. Cornelius gently tugged a hand out of Watt's grip and cupped his cheek, running his thumb over the smooth planes of his face.
“That's right. You're the love of my life. You, Watt Johnson, are my love.” Tears built in Watt's bloodshot eyes, and they burned in Cornelius' own. “Always have been.”
“You know, that explains a lot.” Watt laughed wetly and shook his head.
“Does it?” Cornelius laughed a little too. It hurt like hell, but he couldn't have stopped it if he tried. He winced, then asked, “Like what?”
Watt frowned, then rose up a little bit more on a knee.
He carefully pressed his lips to Cornelius'.
Cornelius opened to him immediately, but Watt kept it easy and slow.
He pulled back and whispered, “Explains why I nearly died on that beach with you.
I—I didn't think I could bring you back. You …” Watt's voice cracked, and he took a moment to steady his breathing.
Cornelius' skin went cold in a sudden flash that reminded him of the sensation of sinking, of alarm bells ringing through his body.
“You scared me. You scared me to the point that even while I was breathing air into you, I was planning how to join you if you didn't make it.
And that's … I have survived everything else in my life, but I could not—cannot—survive a world without you in it.
And I've been tearing myself apart, because what kind of person thinks that?
But it makes sense. I've always loved you, Cornelius.
But … I love you. It's like you said, you're the love of my life. You're it for me.”
“Oh, Watt.” Cornelius kissed Watt. “I'm right here. Come, come lay with me.”
Watt obeyed without argument. He laid on his side facing Cornelius, who settled slowly but surely on his back.
Watt pulled a thin and worn blanket over them, then hid his face against Cornelius' good shoulder.
Cornelius sighed, and it still hurt but the air came easier this time.
He closed his eyes, memorizing the feeling of Watt beside him once more.
He never wanted to be without him again.
They spent a long time in silence, and Cornelius was nearly asleep when Watt whispered, “I didn't believe her.
I thought she was a grieving widow, grasping for straws.
I doubted her, just like everyone else had.
I was going to tell her no, and then she said he'd asked for me specifically.
I think she could tell I thought that was a mighty convenient load of bullshit, because she said, 'Not to fret, you aren't who we need.
But the Herald of Dawn needs him, and he needs you.
He's the One,' and this she said with capital importance, 'he's the One who will find my family and bring them home. '”
Watt laughed softly, then sniffed. “It all sounds so outlandish, and I thought so at the time.
But … when she said it was you that we needed, Cornelius Sawyer, the archaeologist I had been longing to meet, I just …
couldn't say no. And even though I've been telling myself there's no way that Fawcett's message to her could've been real, I think a part of me wanted to believe it.
I should've told you. I meant to, especially after the deal with Galv?o, but I couldn't find the words.” Watt exhaled hard against Cornelius' shoulder.
“I guess it doesn't matter, does it? It was never real. It was all for nothing. Her son was never a Herald of anything, and we were never meant to find them.”
Cornelius laughed, and it hurt like hell.
Watt startled, pulling back to look at Cornelius who gasped and laughed and gasped some more.
Watt had never looked so confused, and maybe a bit hurt.
Cornelius reached over and tugged at Watt's arm with his good hand, urging him to come closer.
Despite his confusion, Watt went willingly.
Cornelius stared up into his eyes and whispered, “You're such an idiot.” He gave Watt's cheek a little shake.
“We found each other again. That's gotta count for something.”
A watery smile crept over Watt's face, and he laughed. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” Cornelius pulled Watt down for a gentle kiss.
Watt returned the kiss with a bit more hunger than Cornelius expected. He returned it eagerly, but the passion only lasted a moment before he flinched in pain. Watt pulled away, and Cornelius groaned. “Hellfire, I can't believe you let me jump off a waterfall. Everything hurts.”
Watt rolled his eyes, unable to hide his amusement. “You twit. Like I can stop you from doing anything.” He sighed, feigning defeat. “As much as it scared me, I have to admit … it was pretty damn impressive.”
They exchanged a much gentler kiss before settling in for the night. They didn't speak, but it was a comfortable silence. Cornelius watched the night stretch on, and when he finally drifted off it was only after Watt began snoring once more.