Marc struggled against the rope around his neck. He felt his strength fading, his fight dwindling away, as his feet scrabbled against the wood beneath him, his body still desperately trying to save himself, despite his mind finding it easier and easier to give in. He reached for his knife, his fist clenched around the handle, in a last fighting attempt. The knife sank into soft sand, again and again, Marc's efforts futile. He felt himself getting breathless, as he was thrown against the side of the boat, wind knocked out of him. Strong arms of the dead gripped against his shoulders and chest, in all efforts to pull him over the edge and into nothingness. Marc's eyes scanned the surface of the boat, desperate to find Steven, to at least know he was safe. He could feel his head getting lighter, his vision starting to get blurry. As long as Steven makes it, he thought. If Steven makes it, he's okay with dying.
Steven was breathless, still crouched behind the steering mechanism. His chest heaved, his arms still tensed from turning the boat. He watched as Marc was pulled along the floor. It scared Steven to see Marc look so helpless, to see him look as weak as Steven felt.
"Nonono, no no, God, no!" Steven muttered, his breathing quickening as his eyes scanned his surroundings. He saw Marc's back hit against the wall, see his legs flailing in attempts to catch himself. He saw his eyes dart back and forth, before finally landing on his. In those few seconds of eye contact, Steven saw Marc's fight fade. Saw his eyes soften, his face becoming calm, his body going limper. It was the most peaceful Steven had ever known him to be, and as Marc's energy left him, Steven felt his heart harden. He felt the adrenaline rush through his body, like a lightning strike, shocking him into alertness and resolve. He was a part of Marc. He could be courageous, and tough, and heroic. It was why he was created. He couldn't let Marc die.
Steven let out a yell, rushing out from his position, racing towards the third lost soul that was approaching Marc. He punched it as hard as he could, shattering it into a million grains of sand. Marc watched him, both him and his captors seemingly distracted from their tasks at hand, as Steven grabbed the bat that had fallen from the creatures hands. He screamed again, barreling towards Marc and the things that held him. He swung into them, using every ounce of effort, smashing them into oblivion.
"SIX!" He yelled, manic in his energy. His sparkling eyes met Marc's, who was still slumped on the floor. "I prefer cricket." Steven explained, almost sheepishly. Marc let out a huff of laughter, staring up at Steven in disbelief and awe.
They were taken out of the moment by the sound of thudding behind them, another sandy body landing on the boat, starting towards them. Marc began to shout, but was drowned out by another wild yell from Steven, who was running full speed toward the dead, his arms and chest twisting back, winding up his swing. He swung his weapon with every strength of his being, destroying the approaching danger. He kept hitting the mound of sand that it had melted into, groaning and shouting with every hit, using every ounce of his pent up anger and fear. Marc watched him from behind, watched Steven's back muscles flexing, his arms swinging over his head muscles tensing. His hair, always on the messy side, was ruffled, swaying back and forth in time with his body. This figment of Marc's imagination, looking more and more alive with each hit. Steven had always protected him emotionally, since they were children, and now he was saving him again. Marc grinned, watched Steven turn around to face him, their eyes meeting, and Marc couldn't take his eyes off of him.
Marc saw Stevens smile fade first, saw his eyes widen, before he felt un-human arms pin his own to his sides, hauling him off of the floor. He yelped, his feet kicking, eyes locked on the dead hands crushing his chest. He felt his back start to bend uncomfortably over the side of the wall, his hair screaming in the wind. He found Steven again, their eyes as wide as one another's. He couldn't look away, thinking of all of the things he'd wished he had chance to say to him. He saw Steven's mouth say his name, though he could hear no sound, save for a light ringing in his ears.
'I'm going to really miss him', Marc thought. Time slowed as he was hauled further over the side, his eyes leaving Stevens' - the last thing he saw was his other halves arm stretched out, beginning to run towards him, his eye's glossing over. That's not a bad last view, he reckoned with himself. He was okay. He'd seen Steven one last time, seen those dark, soulful, kind eyes, so similar yet so different to his own. Seen his curled hair whipping in the air, his hands reaching, always reaching, for Marc's. And Marc saw his smile, saw the way he used to wring his hands with anxiety. Heard his nervous laughter, heard his screams, heard the way he used to talk to himself when he didn't know what else to do. Felt his mind, felt his feelings, felt his hand's clutching the back of his t shirt, his head in the crook of his neck, his shaking body against his in the asylum.
'This is okay', Marc's last thoughts flitted through his mind. 'Let me die with Steven consuming my every being.' He closed his eyes.
Marc felt Steven crash against his shoulder, flying past him. He was suddenly freed, his chest constricting painfully with the effort of breathing normally again, though he couldn't relax. All he could think about was Steven. He whipped round, just in time to see Steven falling from the side of the boat, taking the dead soul down with him.
"STEVEN!" Marc yelled, his heart dropping to his stomach. "STEVEN, NO!" His hand's clenched onto the edge of the boat, knuckles white, horror spreading through his body like liquid fire.
Before Steven even hit the floor, Marc had jumped. He hadn't given it a second thought, every fiber of his body screamed at him to follow. Marc would follow him to the ends of the earth.
He landed with a thump, his legs buckling under him, knocking the wind out of him for the second time that night. He had no time to think about himself, his head whipping around looking for Steven.
"MARC!" He heard, his eyes finally landing on the source of the sound, 50 or so meters behind him.
"STEVEN!" He screamed back, over the deafening sounds of the wind and the retreating boat. "STEVEN, I'M COMING!" Marc scrambled to his feet, his legs moving faster than they ever had. It felt like he was running through quicksand, but he didn't stop to worry about the consequences.
Steven could see Marc's silhouette, getting closer and closer by the second. His body was pleading him to stop, to just let go.
"MARC!" He yelled out again, a sob breaking the word apart. "Marc, please!" He said, his voice cracking as he cried, finally giving in to his wounded mind. "Marc.." He stumbled forward, tripping over his heavy feet, hands catching him before he fell. He felt his fingers start to fuse to the sand and whipped them away from the ground, as though they had been burnt, sitting back on his knees. He didn't know how much longer he could keep going.
"Steven!" He looked up in time to see Marc crash to a stop in front of him, his knees hitting the floor, his arms clenching around Steven's shoulders, their legs tangling together thighs pressed against one another. "It's okay Steven, it's okay, I'm here." Marc held him as Steven sobbed into his arms, his head resting against the crook of his neck, his shoulders shaking.
"I'm sorr-sorry, Marc." Steven choked out in between cries, "I'm sorry I did this to us."
"No, no, Steven, don't say that." Marc pressed his hand to the back of the other man's head, his fingers carding through his hair. "Don't say that, it's okay." Marc looked down, seeing the sand creeping up both his and Steven's feet and lower legs. Fuck. "Steven, look at me, you're okay," Steven's body shuddered, as he lifted his head off Marc's shoulder. Marc moved his hands to hold Steven's cheeks, forcing him to look him in the eye. "You did so well, Steven. You did so good, I owe you my life." Steven laughed slightly, glancing at the sand slowly making its way up their tired bodies, reaching their thighs.
"I didn't do that good of a job, did I? I got us killed."
"I would've been dead years ago if it wasn't for you. You saved our life." Marc could feel himself choking up, his eyes filling up. "You saved my life, Steven, and I owe you everything." Steven cried harder, leaning into Marc's hands, his own moving to grab onto Marc's t-shirt. Their foreheads rested against each other, Steven's eyes clenched, Marc's blurred by his tears, now finding their way down his face. They could both feel the floor beneath them swallowing them up, cementing them in place, finding its way to their waists.
Steven opened his eyes, looking into Marc's. They kept each other's gaze, both terrified of not being able to find each other again if they looked away.
"Marc, my hands." Steven said weakly, eyes not moving. Marc glanced down, watching as Steven's hands turned to what looked like stone, stuck to his own stone waist. "Marc."
Marc looked up again, his heart breaking as he saw Steven smile at him, tears still running down his dirty, tired, scared, perfect face. "Looks like we'll be stuck with each other in hell now, too." Marc laughed, which turned into a stifled sob.
"There is no one else I'd rather be with." He smiled back at Steven. "We'll be okay, Steven." He whispered. Steven sighed.
"Yeah, I know we will." Their chests became painfully tight as their bodies stiffened up, turning the colour of their surroundings. Steven's breath hitched, and Marc's heart rate quickened.
Marc used the last of the movement in his arms to lock his hands round the back of Steven's neck, bringing him as close as he physically could, as their skin began to fuse. The sand had gotten to Steven first, and had overtaken his body quicker than Marc's. Marc didn't want to watch as the man that he loved became forever still, but he couldn't find the strength to look away. The sand crept up Steven's neck, and, his eyes turned to fear and panic, as he felt his airways stop working.
"It's okay, Steven." Marc whispered, kissing the side of Steven's temple. Steven's gaze softened at the sound of his name.
"Marc..." Steven breathed, the last letter catching as his mouth stilled. Marc held back cries, as he felt his own throat begin to tighten, the cold embrace of the sand caressing his jaw. Steven's eyes welled, his gaze seeming to soften in his last moments as he took in Marc's face for the last time.
'This is okay' - Steven's last conscious thoughts flitted across his mind. 'Let me die with Marc consuming my every being.'
Marc felt the tears from his eyes fall, melting seamlessly into the sand consuming him. He tried to let out a cry, but couldn't manage anything more substantial than a strangled groan.
"Steve-".
One lost soul, became two, found within one another.