Archive of Our Own ^beta

The Mist devoured everything.

It twisted reality, stretching time and warping space until nothing felt real anymore. But the past?

The past always found a way to crawl back.

Kiat knew that the second he heard the chains.

The sound was unmistakable—a low, rhythmic clinking, deliberate in its approach. The Mist swallowed everything else, but not that.

Kiat exhaled, adjusting his grip on the rusted doorway of the asylum. “You should work on your stealth.”

A scoff.

Then, his voice.

“You should shut up.”

The Watcher—Alexei—stepped into view, towering in the dim light. The mask was blank, unreadable, but Kiat knew him well enough to feel the anger simmering beneath.

They hadn’t spoken since that day. The day the ex agent took control of his own life.

The day he left Alexei behind.

Now, fate—or the Mist, or whatever cruel force governed this place—had brought them here.

A reunion that neither of them wanted.

And yet, neither of them moved.

---

“You don’t get to act like you know me.”

Alexei’s voice was sharp. Accusing.

Kiat, leaning lazily against the wall, tilted his head. “That’s the thing, though,” he said smoothly. “I do.”

The chains rattled as Alexei tensed.

“You don’t know anything anymore.”

Kiat let out a short chuckle, stepping forward. “Don’t I?” His voice dropped slightly, testing. “You’re still standing there, aren’t you? Not attacking. Not finishing what the Mist told you to.”

Alexei didn’t answer.

But he didn’t strike, either.

Kiat’s smirk widened, though his eyes remained sharp, watching. “That hesitation will get you killed, you know.”

Finally, Alexei moved. Fast.

A chain lashed out—not to kill, but to silence. It wrapped around Kiat’s arm, yanking him forward until they were close.

Kiat didn’t struggle. He didn’t even flinch.

Instead, he smiled.

“I was wondering when you’d snap.”

Alexei’s grip tightened, his breath uneven beneath the mask. He should have attacked. Should have killed him.

But he hadn’t.

And Kiat saw it.

“I could kill you,” Alexei murmured.

Kiat, still calm, still unreadable, met his gaze through the empty sockets of the mask. “Then why haven’t you?”

Alexei hated that he didn’t have an answer.

---

“You still care.”

The words cut deeper than any wound.

Alexei’s breath merely hitched, his grip faltering for a split second—just long enough.

Kiat moved.

Twisting free, he grabbed the chain, pulling Alexei towards him instead of away. Their faces were inches apart now, the Mist curling around them like an unseen noose.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then—softly, bitterly—Alexei murmured,

“…I don’t know how to stop hating you.”

Kiat let out a slow breath. He didn’t smirk this time. Didn’t tease.

Instead, he just said, “Then don’t.”

Let the hatred stay. Let it fester. Because as long as it existed—so did something else.
Something neither of them could name.

Something that never really died.

The chains rattled again, but Alexei didn’t raise them this time.

And Kiat, for once, didn’t move to run.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” Kiat finally said, though the words felt inadequate.

Alexei stiffened, though he didn’t turn around.
“Then why did you?”

His voice was low, almost pleading beneath the anger.
He had stopped trying to hide it, the rawness breaking through.

Kiat was quiet for a moment.

“Because I thought I needed to. Because I wanted to control my own life.”
The words were out before Kiat could stop them. They were the truth, but in the Mist, truths were fragile things. He couldn’t erase the weight of them.

Alexei didn’t respond right away. He didn’t have to. They both knew the truth.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of silence, Alexei spoke again, his voice softer now. Almost too soft.

“I’m still not sure I can forgive you.”

Kiat didn’t flinch at the words, though they cut deeper than anything he’d expected.
But there was no point in denying it, and no point in pretending that forgiveness was the endgame here.

“Yeah,” Kiat muttered. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

Another long pause.

Then, almost as if it was an afterthought, Alexei turned slightly, just enough to show that he was aware of Kiat’s presence.

“I’m not going to kill you.”

The words caught Kiat off guard.
“You should,” Kiat said, his voice dry. “It’s what you’re supposed to do.”

Alexei scoffed before taking a few steps, his movements hesitant, like he was testing Kiat’s reaction.
“I won’t forgive you, Kiat,”

Alexei said, a bitterness still in his tone. But then—he paused, his gaze locking with Kiat’s for the first time in what felt like days.

“But I’m not ready to kill you, either.”

Kiat felt his heart stutter.
Alexei’s words weren’t about forgiveness. They weren’t about redemption. They weren’t even about moving forward.

But they were something else. Something more than the tension, the anger, the chains.
It was an acknowledgment.
A chance.

Kiat didn’t speak. Didn’t push. He could see it now—that vulnerability Alexei was terrified of showing. The fear of being vulnerable again. Of caring again.

It was easier to be a monster. Easier to hide behind the mask, to let the anger and hatred consume him.
But in that moment, standing there, Kiat knew something had shifted.

Maybe Alexei hadn’t forgiven him. And maybe he never would.

But that didn’t matter.

They were both still here.
Still alive. Still fighting in the Mist.
And that was more than either of them could have hoped for.
Alexei turned away again, walking slowly toward the fading light of the asylum.
“I’ll give you this, Kiat,” he said, his voice carrying just enough for Kiat to hear. “Another chance. But you better make it count.”
And with that, Alexei disappeared into the fog.