Better Than I

Desmond knew that he was supposed to choose his words carefully around a god, but he never did. He spoke honestly, from the heart, as he always did. Whether or not that would play to his advantage or disadvantage, he didn’t know. Part of him wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know. The young healer gasped slightly, from fear or shock he couldn’t tell, as Ludo suddenly appeared vast, ever expanding in all directions. Light was snuffed out completely, then finally, Desmond felt himself practically consumed in a darkness he had never experienced before. How long was he there? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Days? He truly couldn’t say, as there seemed to be no real sense of anything but nothing in the blackness. Fear seeped into his veins, but it lulled eventually, as his mind adapted to the emptiness. He thought that his mind was playing tricks on him as that voice…that beautiful fucking melody of a voice that haunted his dreams…started to surround him. It felt natural, right, warm, safe in the dark, as he then started to feel the man he had lost what seemed like forever ago. Once again, a tear slipped from Desmond’s eye, as the warm embrace he thought he would never experience again greeted him. Even when Ludo’s voice interrupted Chester’s, even when he consciously knew that it wasn’t real, it didn’t matter to him. The healer held onto the feeling, practically dragging him to an existence of complete peace. It was beautiful and light, contrasting so much to the heavy world he lived in. He listened. He listened to Ludo’s strangely soothing voice as it spoke. He listened and part of him caved inward on himself. ’What say you, sweetling?’ What could he say? What was there to say? Desmond looked towards where the mask had been and swallowed the shakiness in his voice. ”Your words guide my mind,” he said softly, flickering a smile and wiping away the already drying tear trail on his cheek. ”I’ll do it.” And I'll do it quite willingly. desmond Talk to the Moon, Heal the Soul