Chapter Text
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Doc didn’t know how they made it back into the town.
He assumed the three of them had walked, somehow, stumbling along as the evening grew dark around them on the dirt road, looking like they’d climbed out of hell and lived.
It wasn’t far from the truth, he thought with a shudder as he sat beside the hospital bed. Grian was fine. Mild hypothermia, of all things, but fine. The hospital just wanted to keep him overnight.
Ren’s arm had been a mess. He was still in the post-op room after having his bones realigned. They’d probably ended up having to insert pins, too, to keep everything stable; that’s what the surgeon had informed him before Ren went in.
Somehow, Doc had gotten off the easiest of the three of them. A mild concussion, a burst eardrum, some mild burns and a partly melted prosthetic.
They had gotten… a lot of questions. All they had offered were some half-baked lies about a camping trip gone wrong. The nurses threw him long glances whenever they stopped by to check up on Grian’s condition. Doc didn’t care.
They’d made it.
Somehow.
The moment the rift had closed before them, willed out of existence by pure foolhardiness and yearning, the void had gotten feral; clawing and screeching as its grin turned into an angry snarl. Doc had spared it little pity as Grian raised their hands and followed Doc’s instructions, causing the fire of the sigil to reach down and swallow the demon whole.
The black tar had fizzed out of existence, leaving behind only the black stains on the walls and floor, as well as the three people there.
Grian’s body had been as still and cold as when he’d been lying crumbled up in the circle on the cabin floor.
This time it was Doc’s arms that reached out with tenderness, Ren’s gentle murmurs in their ears as he guided Doc through what to do; how to reach within, since Grian was willing. It was him that cradled Grian’s bright, fluttering soul in his arms and gently lowered it down to his body.
He’d gotten to see that star light up once more in all of its beautiful glory, glowing with joy as it seeped into the chest of the man it belonged to.
Grian’s eyes had opened up, and the look of wonder and love that had greeted him had taken Doc’s breath away.
—
They stayed in the small mountain town as the snow arrived, and then settled, through the winter. They had managed to work out a deal with the owner of the camping site - they wouldn’t have to pay for the damages specifically, so long as Doc did some work for the ground owner on the old cabins to help renovate them, after he'd gotten his prosthetic replaced.
It was mindless work, but something Doc was happy to do as he waited for Ren’s arm to recover enough to remove the pins. Grian stayed with them at their cabin for the most part, curled up on the worn couch with his laptop as he worked on finishing his degree.
The two men he loved greeting him as he came in after hours of shoveling snow off of roofs, replacing shingles and various other tasks the ground owner found for him - it never got old. Doc’s heart would squeeze almost painfully in his chest at the sight of them, curled up together on the couch with steaming mugs in their hands.
They’d prepare a cup for him, too, and then let him sit between them as they warmed him back up.
He’d repay them both in kisses. As many as they wanted; as often as they’d let him.
When spring finally came, it brought with it new beginnings.
The three of them packed up their belongings, meagre as they were. Grian finished his writing. Ren’s arm was still bothering him a bit; Doc could tell, but it was nothing a hot shower and a nice massage couldn’t soothe.
They torched the chapel before they drove off.
Fire couldn’t get rid of stone, but they’d make sure everything else about that horrid place was wiped from the earth.
A fresh bouquet of hand-picked crocus was left on a mossy stone grave in an old abandoned graveyard as the dust settled behind them.