Archive of Our Own ^beta

 Ivan  sat in his death outfit with magnificent white wings that grew out of his back casting shadows around the two and a golden halo floating above him that shone unlike anything Till had seen before.

Then there was Till, in a bright beon green vest that he had made himself, with dried blood still clinging to his face, cracking with every expression.

Quite the contrast -though he looked no less beautiful in Ivan's eyes.

Till knew this wasn't heaven. Heaven was supposed to be paradise, a place where your soul may finally rest after it's lifetime. Well, that is what the old human religions had said.

If this was heaven, then God was playing a very cruel trick on him, for how could his heaven be his prison?

They both sat with their legs up, looking over ANAKT garden from one of it's many hills. It was just as he remembered; what looked like endless grassy fields and sky's more blue than what seemed possible all creating a pretend joy to mask what they really were. A cage. A cage for the children in it who may never get out and he'll be damned if he was expected to spend the afterlife here too.

He had told himself it was just the waiting room, so that's what they were doing. Waiting.

In all honesty, Till did not want to be die. He had wanted to be dead, after he had found out Mizi was missing but now...after all he had gone through, how hard he had fought against Luka...Ivan's sacrifice. Till did not want to die, but here he was, in what he thought to be the waiting room to the afterlife, sitting next to the boy he who had spared him from death the first time.

He didn't know what he felt about Ivan anymore. He didn't know how felt about a lot of things recently. The boy's name carried memories of both pain and happiness. The most recent ones however were guilt and fear. For the first time in his life, up on that stage infront of a bunch of good for nothing alien's, he felt scared of Ivan. The memory repeated in his head like a broken record. 

Ivan is singing. He isn't. Ivan is singing. He isn't. Ivan isn't singing. He also isn't. Ivan drops his mic. Why is he dropping his mic. Ivan is walking towards him now. They're both not singing. The instruments still play in the background, unbothered by the scene occurring. Ivan grabbed his face, he's pressing their faces together. What is he doing? He tries to pull away but Ivan pulls him back like they're in a game of tug-of-war.

He doesn't remeber much else. His memory blurs out after that, but the distinct image of Ivan, laying cold and lifeless on the floor never leaves his mind. And it's all Till's fault.

That's where the guilt comes in. He was guilty, oh so guilty. He had killed Ivan. It was his fault he had died. Maybe Ivan was brash, and violent and a tease. But he was Till's friend. 

(Later he realised maybe Ivan wanted to be more, and maybe given time he would have wanted that too. But they would never know for they were never given that time.)

And Till was the reason he had died. The thought ate him up for the weeks that had followed his death.

His guilt was further deepened after the events of today. He went up against Luka, he tried his best and for a moment, a mere second of undeniable hope, he had thought he was going to win. Clearly that's not what happened because now he was here, sitting with one dead Ivan whose sacrifice had been in vain because he hadn't been good enough.

And of all the things Ivan was, he was still human. He had made a decision that cost him in life and Till had wasted it. At the very least, he deserved an apology.

"Ivan,"he started,voice steady. "I'm sorry. You're dead and it's my fault. You wasted your-"

"No." Ivan said effectively cutting Till off. 

"No? What do you mean no. Ivan, I-" Till tried again, before Ivan cut him off once more.

"You didn't do anything. I did. I decided to die. You didn't make that decision for me." 

"But you sacrificed yourself and I-...I lost," he said distraught, dropping his head to his hands.

"I didn't sacrifice myself because I knew you would win, Till. I did it because I would rather die than live in a world that you didn't exist in. The most rewarding part about it was not you winning, but knowing that you may live a long happy life, unaffected by my death." Ivan admitted in the same way someone would speak about the weather.

Till didn't know what to make of the admission. Did Ivan truly believe that Till would be unaffected by his death? Did he really think Till cared about him that little. One of his closest friends, someone who he had known most of his life. Did he believe his death would leave Till completely untouched by emotions.

And what did the other part mean? He would rather die in then live in a world without Till?

Maybe he never truly understood Ivan at all. He only ever saw the mean, childish exterior. He laughed at the absurdity of it all. There was so much more to Ivan then he had ever thought.

"What are you laughing at?"Ivan pouted.

"You," Till chuckled. "You're such a moron. Why didnt you tell me this when we were, you know...alive"  

Only affection rang in his voice. Ivan looked at him with a wistful expression on his face.

"I hope we get it right in the next life Till." He smiled solemnly. That dreaded snuggletooth that would soon haunt Till's nightmares poked out.

...next life? What did he mean next life? They're together now aren't they? They have all the time in the world and then some. What was he talking about. He couldn't leave Till again, it wouldn't be fair.

"Ivan, what are you talking about?" Till demanded grabbing his collar. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean Till." He still had that same solemn, wistful expression plastered over his face. Why must he look so sad. They're both together. What does he mean? Till doesn't know! Why won't he tell him.

'I don't," Till cried. Tears welled up in his eyes, hot and ugly tears that threatened to spill. Why was Ivan doing this. Why did he insist on causing Till pain."Why are you saying this."

"It's not your time yet, Till. You have so much more to live for."

"What about you? You have more to live for too." He yelled pulling him closer. 

Something in him broke. He knew this was going to happen. He just didn't allow himself to believe it. Because once again, Till wanted to be dead and... for the first time in his life, he had what he wanted. And now it was being ripped away from him. 

He should have known this was coming. They were in the waiting room after all, and he was just a visitor.

Ivan stared at him, smiling but there were tears in his eyes too. He stuck his arms out, wrapping them around Till in a comforting embrace while the smaller boy hit his chest repeatedly.

He didn't mind. Ivan would rather Till be angry at him. It was easier to be the victim of his anger than any other emotion. 

Which was wrong of him, for he had let Till be the victim of all his emotions, not just anger. Every ugly, shallow one that he had not dared to speak out loud.

Infact,he had damned Till so far into his life that he would probably be spending every next one of his repaying that debt. In this light, the small sacrifice he had made was nothing compared to what was deserved and it was a fact Ivan was completely at peace with.

"You're wrong Till. I had more to die for."

And somewhere faraway, on the metal floor of a burning stage, Till's heart started beating once more.