The Dreaming Dark PV Hans Jenssen

When a heart-wrenching wail tore into a backdrop of rusty red, pure, unwavering light shot through blood crimson, stunning the blindly running boy until he was forced into a sharp halt as all sense of direction was lost enveloped in the shine. The unbearably painful sound entwined with deep-rooted intuition screamed at him to turn back to that suffocatingly dark room where Mikhail and Myrene’s body still laid motionless, that dagger stained with his sins a forever stubborn reminder of his wrongdoing. His reckoning was awaiting him at the scene of the crime, and even when his mind begged him to keep running his heart knew better.

Steps that should have been cautious were quick to turn into sprinting as the boy continued to run through the sheer white vortex, fighting off every shred of a fear as he gathered everything left in him in a reminder that his brother needed him. The wide open door was in sight, it shone a bloody hue on the starkly contrasted white. Glowing almost invitingly it beckoned, taunted, and dared him to take that one step closer. Yet the boy would never reach his destination as the ground melted beneath him, and no matter how his hands clawed at the ledge he would find himself falling into nothingness-

Then Hans’ eyes flung open.

It was only a dream, by now he should have been familiar with the nightmares that came every night to remind him of that dark seed planted into his heart. Nikolai’s return had been followed by disorientation and the terrifyingly blurring line between reality and dreamscape. …If it was only a dream why did the screaming not stop as he woke up? Panic left over from just a week before threatened to seize him again and he sat up in haste as if pulled by an invisible string.

“Nikolai? Are you hurt?”

Eyes adjusting to the darkness under the bare light of the moon mulishly lingering wisps of red dissipated as his scattered gaze focused on the shadowed figure of his distraught brother. Greeted with that familiar face stricken in equal parts tears and pain hurt would have probably been an incredible understatement. Relief in realising that, from what little he could make out without illumination, Nikolai was at least not physically injured was an emotion short lived as Hans’ mind cycled through possibilities of which terrible monster plaguing the night had elicited such a horrible howl.

Throwing off heavy blankets Hans was at Nikolai’s side with the same haste as he had exhibited in his dreams. Chocolate eyes locked onto icy ones like they had so many times before but tonight they seemed to be searching for something — validation, reassurance, and he knew, forgiveness, for in that pair of shattered blue was fear carved all over it. Hans did not know what he was staring at, but every memory from the past week’s nighttime told him that look of trepidation and abhorrence was directed straight at him. That wolf, shrouded in darkness, with gleaming eyes, with the grin that sent chills down his spine.

-I never chose to leave you, but you chose to leave me! You hurt me-

The unwelcome yet reluctantly familiar words flooded back. Every night he had said them in his slumber, yet no one ever listened as he was cut off except that ghastly reflection in the mirror he refused to believe was himself. Unable to bring himself to look at his brother again after the deep ache having been left in his heart by following his first attempt Hans once more found himself biting back the words he had been aching to say as eyes averted in shame and guilt, Nikolai, I’m sorry, please forgive me, I did it for your good, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please don’t look at me like that, I’m sorry, I love you- he cut his own rambling mind off as tears were forced back with his barely coherent thoughts.

No. It was only a dream. It will stay as nothing more than a dream, cast away to the very back of his consciousness because he couldn’t risk the truth coming out. Having seen so many monsters already how could he betray their camaraderie by displaying that side of him, one that he knew, if he dared to indulge in long enough, could engulf him entirely. Anger was a thing rightfully described as fire, dangerous, destructive, and far too quick to catch. He couldn’t afford to think that way, and in any case the last thing he could provide right now was more for Nikolai to worry about through a recovery already unstable. …It was only a dream.

Slowly Hans’ gaze flitted upwards to meet Nikolai’s as he took a seat by his friend on bare sheets with the covers strewn to the side in haphazard haste. Wrapping arms around his frail frame in a solemn embrace Hans said, voice lowered by his own evident fatigue, “Oh Nik, you’re safe, I promise.”

@Matthew Campbell as Nikolai Vol’ka

Date: November 7th 2024

The waking dead was the only appropriate adage to accurately describe the boys movement when he escaped from the dreaming dark. One couldn't describe it as waking up for it was far more like being torn, ripped away every tear imbued with desperation and necessity. Nikolai was living on survival instincts fending off attacks he couldn't possible predict, cuts that lived within his very skin. Nightmares were no longer imprisoned within his mind but lingered in the shadows, in the faces of those around him, around every corner and under every bed.

Had Nikolai not already been wailing his harrowing song the sudden appearance of Hans would have startled him into the same reaction. For a split second he didn't recognise the boy that stood before him, in the dark of the room he took on something more dangerous. Something primal flickered in the hazel of his eyes like tiny back whisps of intentions Nikolai couldn't understand nor recognise. Both holding the others stare in a lock of horror clinging to a version of a person they were before all of this, when things weren't perfect but they were simpler.

Boring into those rich, chocolate eyes his own continued to stream tears while the mind floated adrift on worried waters. This version of Hans in front of him no longer was able to rest easy, the boy could not believe in graceful naivety that the world was inherently good or that things would get better for his roommate had proven the exact opposite. Nikolai had robbed Hans of peace the second he entered his life and he was continuing to destroy it part by part. Just as his father had done to him. The words of his nightmare tightening around his throat and leaving their infectious touch within him.

Hands instinctively began to grab at the fine comfort of the blanket flung beside him rising it up to bury his ruined face, hiding from the world in a place where he would not have to hold his brother's eye. A place where he did not have to face the reality of his failings, the destructive genealogy he would never escape. Never did the tears stop, not when Hans sat on the bed beside him, not when a gentle embrace encompassed his frail frame, not when the words pierced through the abhorrent cries.

The guilt wracked through his entire body causing it to quiver under the pressure, crying with his entire body as covers still glued to his face. Awake or asleep he could find no comfort and the effects it had on everyone around him only made it worse. Another night of sleepless agony had been inflicted on his brother and still he came to comfort him. Nikolai did not deserve his comfort, he didn't deserve to have been forgiven so quickly and he certainly didn't deserve someone like Hans. That boy would always be his better. Would always deserve better. But with Nikolai in his life would he ever accomplish it.

After a moment needed to collect himself, shakes resistant under the supportive grasp of Hans were tempered. On a good day the duellist had little chance taking on his dormmate in strength but with his withered frame it was futile to even attempt. As his boy stilled and tears began to soften his words broke from his mouth in nothing more than a whisper, "I'm so sorry Hans. I'll never stop being sorry." Tentatively he withdrew from his makeshift shield to settle his icy blue eyes on the boy finding no danger now just sorrow and hurt. "You don't deserve this. I've done nothing but cause pain since the moment I stepped into your life. You don't deserve that." Barely formed words died on his throat before he started lightly shaking his head once more and burying it in his brothers chest he continued whispering his apologies unrelentingly, "I'm sorry. So, so, sorry."

Interacting with Hans Jenssen @Archer Duncan

When Hans came to Nikolai’s side the wails nor sobs seemed to be anywhere near an end be he had only expected that it wouldn’t. Merely a healthy release of emotion he had no qualms against it when he was certain he cried with him, for unlike the wretched Volkov household he would not be subjected to silence because of it. Watching wordlessly as Nikolai pulled the covers up before his face one arm supported him but he did no more as he allowed him privacy in the shelter he needed.

Slightly jolted as his brother’s body began to tremble Hans held his frail frame as if afraid it might break with more motion, suddenly remembering the shuddering that had seized him in his coma. Allowing his shaking brother to hesitantly withdrew from the embrace despite the eyes searching for his it was difficult to keep for Hans to keep his gaze on Nikolai’s at each shattering word, every low, whispering decibel a jarring clap of thunder in his ears. Overridden with helplessness and despondency as Nikolai bursted into unreasoned apologies he listened forbearingly until the impatient hear of his just couldn’t anymore.

“No, no, no, no, shut up,” he said frantically, pressing a finger close to Nikolai’s lips. Then as his words died Hans could do very little but cradle his neck when Nikolai suddenly buried his head into his chest, strengthless after the nightmare as Nikolai’s torrent of apologies nowhere near end. “Nik don’t do this to me—” Lightly shaking his head in a movement that mirrored his brother’s, their actions bounded in sorrow, his was differentiated with a disorientated disbelief as the red hallmark of his dreams flashed before his eyes again. Gulping he glanced away slightly with guilt and determination not to expose the hurt boy to his Hyde, while forcing the imagery plaguing his nightmares exiled. Nik wasn’t going to leave. He was fine, and he was here. And as long as Nikolai was here Hans had no plans of going anywhere else himself.

“You can’t just push me away like this. I’m your friend, there’s nothing that will ever do anything to change it, and however trite you think it might be friends are supposed to be there for each other even when things are shit. You don’t need to apologise, because none of this is your fault and you don’t deserve any of this pain either. You may be sorry but listen, I’m not for saving your life twice, and I’d be more than happy to do it a million more times.”

Grasping him tightly they sat intertwined under the pooling moonlight. “And no,” Hans said with the utmost conviction. Finding a laugh, even if it was weak, escaping his throat he managed, “Yes, sometimes you’re really a pain in the neck but no—” breathing out deeply his voice soon grew serious once more and continued in a rambling flow, “The moment you stepped into my life you gave me such unimaginable joy. I can’t even put it into words Nikolai…. Is it too cliche to say that you are the greatest blessing I’ve ever received? I’ve just never had a friend like you.”

Lips forming into a small bittersweet smile with his head pressed against Nikolai’s hair, whatever objections he was certain the boy would make was softly shushed for his words were yet to stop. “But if you really want to be so stubborn in believing you brought so much suffering into my life that doesn’t matter anyways because I forgive for all of it. What is there to forgive though? Yes, it was stupid, but I understand why and what matters is that you’re here now.”

Gently pulling away from the boy he made certain the words reached him completely, as two pairs of tear-speckled eyes locked onto each other as they had so many times before, two stars however far across the universe connected with just one look, “I told you, there’s nothing you could do that’s so bad that I would hate you. You’re not a burden I have to put up with, Nik, I chose this because I love you. You’re going to get better, and while you do I’ll be here for you.”

@Matthew Campbell as Nikolai Vol’ka

Date: November 7th 2024

The acceptance of love was not something so easily overcome and Nikolai Mikhailovich Volkov's life was not one so easily dealt with acceptance. When your entire life, every high and low was denied of it, you could hardly be blamed for fearing that the second you found it there would be a million factors fighting to wrestle it away. Nikolai’s life used to be a still, numb existence where love was a concept for stories and unconditional was a word categorised out with his reality. The place he could see as a child through the windows of their estate where freedom and choice laced hand in hand dancing in the wildflowers and grass. A place of fiction, a place he could never go, a place he had bloodily clawed his way towards. So, if he was now here, then why was it still so difficult to accept it, why was love still so painful and uncertain?

With certainty he knew every word out of Hans mouth was truth. There was no room in his tight embrace for doubt and insecurity to twist its gnarled roots so why could the words never truly touch his heart? Why must his warring mind so adamantly refuse to accept honesty for what it was and more importantly what did it take to finally pierce its ironclad walls. Hans had supported him through everything, forgave him when he was less than deserving and replaced brothers he never thought would disappear. Dormmate was a relationship antiquated in their short history for they were family, Nikolai was broken from birth but in the presence of his best friend he was born anew. With all the certainty in his heart Niko knew that the blood that ran in his veins bled the same as Hans own. So why did his heart still deny, why did it defy every wish he had ever wanted?

Since he was no more than a child, Nik had been plagued with dream wrapped nightmares of a childhood free from torment and damnation. Of a family built on the sanctity of equality and love and yet his mind was determined to prevent him from such miracles. The whole think was more delusional than senseless, and he begged for it to be gone, begged that he would hear Hans words and they would solidify his wrecked foundations so that he might rebuild from the ground up. Though for a second the flash in his brothers eyes was scarily familiar, a flicker of something dark and poisonous, a deadly vein of corruption straining his warm, kind eyes and polluting them. A trick of the light no doubt, a trick of the dark he had experienced in his dream. For now when those eyes bore down into his soul once more they left no room for his heart to defy, an entire universe was born with stars of tears speckling their eyes.

In the safety of his embrace, with the outer world far from reach he heard the truth and knew it to be real. His heart raced with so much trepidation he was sure it would burst but he did not run, nor would he want to. Under the influence of his brother his broken body was made strong, his support solidifying the seams his family had undone. Nikolai was still broken, but now where loose stitches had tied him back together golden rays of sunlight filled the cracks and bolstered his spirit, healing wounds no one could see. His brother had the capabilities of the sun, radiant he burned and brightened the darkest reaches. His quivering lip beginning to form a small smile as his eyes poured down from the heavens against his chilled skin his throat began to open less hoarse than before, "What did I ever do to deserve you? Ich hab dich lieb, Bruder."

Letting the words linger between them he grabbed back at the boy burying his head into his shoulder once more and letting go of all the pain, embracing the help he never thought he'd receive. Nikolai Mikhailovich Volkov was no longer an island, solitary and adrift, but an entire world with people who cared and despite his fear, he accepted that love. Bucking with every cry he pondered on the boys final words and couldn't help the muffled squeak of worry from parting his lips, "but what if I can't get better? What if I'm like him?" The haunting words of his dream severing him from hope.

"Like father, like son, you can't run from me."

Interacting with @Hans Jenssen

banner by Matthew Campbell || interacting as Hans Jenssen

Hans knew he could never return the two to what they had before with the snap of his fingers, but he would do anything to ease the pain for his suffering brother. If the potion for his health required stars be plucked from the sky and all the clouds be dismantled he would do it in a heartbeat, and he knew he would have done much more, things that ought not be put into words. Yet deep in the turmoils of his own heart he knew it could never be that simple; it was not something to be solved with the magic Nikolai now distanced himself from, and no potion could ever be the remedy. Hans could immerse himself in his father’s art of healing and never surface with a worthy answer, so layered was Nikolai’s pain that he could not even begin to comprehend it. All he understood was while his ache was nowhere compared to his, seeing him so hurt also killed something inside him. He would give everything and perhaps even then it wouldn’t be enough, could speak all those words of reassurance but in the end they were only words, could promise his brother the world yet fall short on the vow. Love, he knew, was not all-conquering, but at least, warm and safe in his embrace, he hoped Nikolai would know that at least it was there.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?”

What an utterly stupid question. Hans sighed, a soft exhale fighting back the chill, holding the boy like he was the most precious thing on this earth. His voice was less hoarse than it had been and Hans watched lovingly as a small smile formed on his lips. Perhaps in that smile he saw the ghost of something in once knew, devilish in the firelight, rambunctious and boisterous. It was no longer that winning grin but he recognised it, and he would from a lifetime away. At least he was smiling, and he was smiling because of him — for tonight that was more, more than enough. But somehow, inexplicably, for a reason he didn’t understand, he didn’t quite return it as the darkness still lingered somewhere inside him. “What did you ever do?” He repeated, cradling the boy in his arms, “Oh Nikolai… Just living is enough.”

“Ich hab dich lieb, Bruder.”

If it was any other day perhaps he would have teased Nikolai for pronunciation problems that didn’t exist, but Hans still froze to the words he had heard a million times before. Diamond specks welled up at the edges of his eyes, and instead of blinking them back, he allowed the tears to fall freely. He didn’t quite know why they did, just that they were out of something far from misery or sorrow, yet far from joy or bliss all the same, just pure emotion, not swayed in any direction, yet enough to burn down the entire world. Tonight, however, he only replied, voice steady with every syllable as if it was a mantra shared between them, “Ich habe dich auch lieb, Bruder.”

As Nikolai grabbed at him violently Hans stayed silent, holding the boy wordlessly with enough weight of its own, allowing the heaving figure to exile every black claw gnawing at his heart. The language that bounded them was one beyond a lexicon. He found warmth between their bodies, fingers sliding between the ribs that showed under a thin layer of flesh, yearning to cover every inch of that shaking body in the embrace. There, he wanted Nik to know how safe he was, that he could break down because there will always be a safety net to catch him. They had only made the first step on a long road of recovery, but the largest leap had already been taken, and from there on he could shed all the tears he needed to.

“But what if I can’t get better? What if I’m like him?”

The question was muffled, barely audible, and if it had not been Nikolai speaking perhaps the Russian would have been lost to Hans’ ears. At first he, at a loss for words, said nothing in response, only stroked gentle fingers through Nikolai’s wet, clotted hair as he sobbed into his arms, breaths sharp and piercing against the midnight stillness. His eyes trailed off to the darkness outside, wondering what would ever be enough to give his brother the life he deserved against the currents of fate. He could never have known what horrors Nikolai saw in his nightmares but he needn’t have known either to guess. Nikolai never specified who the pronoun in his question referred to, but naming him would have only been an act of redundancy. Hans understood who he was talking about — he had dreamt of that man too.

Hans knew it was impossible for Nikolai to ever become even anything close to the Volkov patriarch. Not his Nikolai, so fiercely, so obnoxiously righteous. Not his Nikolai, lionhearted with a soul as soft as silk. Not his Nikolai, who he would forgive and forgive as long as he was safe. How could he ever compare the wolves of his past to that angel who charged into flames to save people he never even knew? He ought not even need to vocalise it that that would never even be a vague possibility, that he was not walking a tightrope teetering on Volkov and Vol’ka but steady on solid ground, already having landed on the other side. Everyday he had thought only of how to right more wrongs, wrongs that were never his fault to begin with, and never looking back to see the blossoming trail of flowers left in his wake. It will never come to that.

The what ifs were not a notion Hans wished to entertain, but if, if that ever became how fate would unfold, he already knew with conviction in his heart who he would respond. Hans understood well enough that unconditional love came with a price, acknowledged that with something so vehement as the twin flames burning in their hearts, sacrifices need be made, accepted and relished in how this force once cliche could overpower everything as long as he placed it above everything. Had he not barred himself from all the truest, rawest forms of emotion out of fear? And now he had shed such worries he could hardly return; he was giving and receiving the greatest gift the world would ever have to offer. The answer seemed simple, and it was, just a binary yes, a confirmation that persevered through every wail and wound. Then I will love you just as who you are.

Was this devotion or blindness, and ought he care? Ought he care when the rest of the world could be damned? After all the stray observer would barely notice if a star blinked out from existence in the night sky, but when the sun failed to rise come the morning, the entire world would fall into a frenzy. As much as astronomers could hope to name the constellations, they still did so while orbiting around their own Sol, the one who outshone anything else the moment it appeared at dawn. Feeling heartbeat against heartbeat, his muscles inexplicably tensed against the strengthless body of Nikolai. He could never cover it up with lies but that side of himself was so brutal it scared him; Hans could not hide from his brother, the lengths he would go. He gritted his teeth, at himself, at the night, at everyone and everything else but the boy in his arms — they could all burn as long as he was safe, part of him loved himself for it, the other hated himself.

Perhaps he should have given an answer far sooner, but feeling the solid body between his hands had been enough, that intolerable presence who threw him into a depression after having just been gone for those brief days that felt like unbearable eternities. Even if they could never go back to old times he just wanted to be with him and forget everything, be in their own world again where nothing mattered. But he knew, as forcefully as he knew how much he loved him, that as strenuous as it may be there will never be progression without closure. Then, as Hans settled on a statement he had long known but never properly put into words, he too drew a sharp inhale of breath and his eyes hardened into completely seriousness. Voice barely a whisper as he spoke, yet as strong as any conviction of love, “The truth is you can’t run forever, Nikolai. Someday, you’ll need to either make peace with your past or kill it.”

For all the bluntness Hans had said them in he only clutched the boy tighter between his arms, as if fearful he might wisp away into nothingness any second. He knew that was correct, he knew he needn’t have worried for what he should have or should not have said in front of him, he knew Nikolai was strong enough to accept it, so why did it feel so wrong? Wrong, like the rage in his dreams; wrong, like how he had just allowed Nikolai to leave that night; wrong, like how everything was playing out, out of his control and perilously. Nikolai had a way of stripping down his lies and masks until there was nothing left but genuineness, and while the statement was one entirely spoken in earnest, he wondered if he should have been taking it back. The words seemed to hang so icily in the air between them.