I don’t know if you’re still taking prompts, but I came across this lyric “I would trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday” and it looks perfect for immortal angst :)
I struggled with the prompt for longer than I should, then I suddenly found the sweet-spot for the type of ~feeling~ I wanted for this, and now we have angst! :D
Not quite Immortal Angst, but it’s on a level similar to it! This is a Bureau Files AU, inspired by The Bureau Files by @catsafarithewriter. These are actually parallel dimension versions of our Bureau! All inspired by a “what if?” I had after the end of “The Case of Three Barons”.
This is just after [spoilers] Haru disappears into the Wood Between Worlds. But the grief and loss remains~
Also, I usually try and incorporate the prompt, but I just couldn’t get it in. I’m sorry! DXBut I hope the feeling is close enough to the lyric to make up for it!
*****
It was quiet within the Sanctuary.
A place- 'a world much different from your own'- that carried and breathed its own life, that was filled to the brim with so much that it felt like it was overflowing-
It was quiet.
No snips, and arguments, though those had already been rare. Hard to strike a fight and carry it through when a special third party had more of a vested interest in the petty disagreements.
No, the Sanctuary stood silent and still, drained of its magic. Deprived of its greatest source of brightness. Lost to the-
Best not to linger within those sorrows.
However it happened, the world remained. Life did not. The Sanctuary stabled out its weakened and weary world, leaving behind beds to sleep in and no comfort to be found in the silence.
It was so damn quiet.
Cases came and went, as was the nature of time and the world surrounding them. Things carried on where there other, more important tasks to be taken. But one after another came forward, asking for help, begging for a solution. There was no life in the sanctuary, but it never found itself empty.
He worked, tirelessly, following any lead he could find. Chasing after a pair of cat-like beings and cleaning up the chaos and grief they left behind. They were taunting him, but he couldn’t find himself too bothered by it. He was looking for any they could have left behind.
“We know what happened to her, Baron,” Toto told him. When the files took priority, and Muta suddenly needed to be at the Crossroads to avoid the burden, that’s when he told Baron.
“We know she’s missing, old friend, and that’s not the same as what you’re implying,” he intoned, shuffling the papers. Hissed when a papercut came as a result of his restless hands.
Toto sighed, cocked his head, and looked at his oldest friend. Was it even the right one? He left and came back and was never the same. He’d be more worried over that, if it hadn’t left him free to pursue the best thing to happen in his long life.
And now she was gone and there was nothing left.
“We have to accept it, Baron,” light flashed, and a human Toto leapt down from the railing, “there’s not much else we can do.”
“We can keep looking. We can expand our search. We can call in old favors. We can do anything and everything possible, and I intend to.”
Baron had stood, paperwork crinkled in his hands, gaze unwavering towards Toto. He left no room for argument, voice desperate for anything to cling to. Hiding behind the facade of indifference and composure.
With no feathers to ruffle, Toto wore his anger clearly, channeling it through his stiff shoulders and tight grip. He cleared the space in fast strides, bracing against Baron’s desk, Baron having reseated himself.
“Why are you doing this Baron?” Toto asked, tone a little too level.
Baron met his eyes. Too much and not enough was said between them, accusing, hurting, begging. Baron looked away first.
“You know why, Toto,” he told him.
“No, I don’t. That’s the point of sharing with the class, Baron. Or this case, your best friend,” Toto seethed, leaning further across the desk. Baron pushed back, stood so fast his chair clattered back and scuffed the floor.
“Because I have feelings for her!”
Silence followed quick behind Baron’s confession. Wrapped around each occupant and swallowed them down to a place of fear and solitude. Toto breathed in deep, closing his eyes, counting back from ten. He straightened up and met Baron’s eye.
“No you don’t,” he told him. Simply, factually, like he was telling him about the weather, or mentioning a mulberry had gone bad.
Baron struggled to breathe.
“What do you mean, “no”? Are you suddenly privy to every single one of my thoughts?” Baron retorted, his turn now to lean over the desk, baring his incisors.
Toto crossed his arms. His shoulders relaxed, tension washed away as quickly as it had come before. Baron seethed at it, gripping the desk to keep him grounded.
“Do you not remember how you treated her? That’s not one who’s in love would treat someone.”
“I loved her more than-!”
Toto slammed his hands against the desk, Baron jolting back at the force. A beak sprouted on Toto’s face, feather’s spackling his face, hair, and arms. The crystal holding his human form gave a small whine, straining under the strength of Toto’s anger. Of his grief.
“I watched, for 4 years, you treat Haru like she wasn’t even worth half a damn,” feathers receding, but clawed nails digging trails into the desk, “I watched her strain for your approval, watched her desperately struggle against her feelings when she first came here.”
Baron flinched, took a half step forward, but receded when Toto sunk his nails deeper into the wood.
“And you knew!” Toto shouted. He shook his head, voice wavering under so much.
“You came back, and you must have met her, and you took it out on her. You hated her before she even came here for help.”
“Toto, you don’t know, if I could take it all back-”
“What’s her favorite color?”
Baron froze, blinking. His mouth flapped, searching for an answer. From either Haru.
“Her birthday? Her prized possession? Did you know she has a scar on her shoulder?” Toto questioned, frantic, creeping around the desk.
“I know her, Toto, I love her…” he tried again, pleading, begging.
“You can’t love someone if you’ve never even known them.”
Baron stopped. Toto stopped. A foot apart, but miles away from each other. Whatever their friendship, whatever their years together had left, smoldered between bad blood and grief. Stolen away by the one who took both their hearts.
“I loved her, Baron,” Toto said, voice cracking. “We all have our own grief. But you cannot claim to have the same as mine.”
Toto nodded to himself, yanking off the crystal. His hand slammed it onto the desk, wing taking its place just as his hand left it. He leapt to the balcony, taking off through the open doors and into the night.
