witch shinji 2

shinji lumbers himself down slick, steep stairs into the ages empty basement. he sets up candle after candle after candle until there is enough light to start drawing. thick chalk traces over decades old circles - maybe even some that had been used for this very task. his breathing stunted and rattling in his chest, shinji decorates his circle with sage and gems and far more unsavory items. the sound of a knife plunging into his palm seems to echo against the brick walls and ceiling; the pained hiss he emits even louder than that.

the blood that decorates the chalk drawn circle is a brilliant red. much brighter than the dark, coagulated splotches that have been dragging down one side of his face this whole time. shinji is light-headed; in pain. he loses his balance a moment while he clumsily thumbs through a dusty old book, trying to find the right spell.

the incantation starts slowly. his tongue always feels thick and heavy at the beginning, like it's too big for his mouth. by the end, though, everything is smooth and fluid, like he isn't even the one speaking anymore. the atmosphere shifts and distorts and leaves a lurch of nerves in his chest, but then. he's there.

archer.

the dust starts settling.

time slows down. it seems as if even archer notices the difference in this summoning and maybe - hopefully he feels different, too.  when he starts to move shinji feels his heart shoot up into his throat. his shaking feet start to move forward. archer's equally uneasy gait has him stumbling forward with a desperate need to know for sure that it worked and he's free and once he's outside that circle they crash into one another and hit the cement. it's a series of gasps and whines and the frantic rustling of fabric as they embrace in freedom for the very first time. small hiccups and sniffles follow until it's impossible to hold back tears and quivering mouths.

a large, cold hand pushes up the curls stuck to shinji's forehead and archer stares in horror. he doesn't ask what happened to shinji's eye. he knows. instead, he kisses him. holding him as tightly as he can; kissing him as deeply as he can, archer acknowledges him in the only way he feels is right.

when shinji sobs underneath him his heart breaks and is warmed at the same time. the urge to protect him is so strong and overpowering, archer can't help but bring him close. neither of them have to be alone anymore.

no rasped whispers of "it's okay." or "i've got you" could make the crying stop, but that was fine, too. it had been a long road to get here. the exhaustion was palpable and shinji felt brittle and paperthin against archer's chest. being present and tangible was an eerie sensation, but hardly anything compared to the affection that was wreaking havoc on his serotonin receptors.

as shinji continues to cry not unlike a small child, archer too feels tears begin to well up in the corners of his eyes. and while he had originally given up on the idea many years ago, it feels as if becoming human again might actually be within the realm of possibility.