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Title: The Deep Quiet
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairing: Arthur/J'onn
Summary: After the white ones had returned, and the agony of flame, J'onn had gone swimming with Arthur.
Wordcount: 1253
Disclaimer: Not mine.
The Deep Quiet
After the white ones had returned, and the agony of flame, J'onn had gone swimming with Arthur.
It seemed so strange to put it that way, bereft of all meaning, pared down to bare essentials as if it were a line in one of Bruce's reports. That was the failing of language in many ways, he thought. The most talented and skilled wielder of words must fail when the idea they strove to encompass was deeper and quieter than words could reach. And down in the depths of his heart, in the well of his soul, J'onn knew meanings that those paltry words had not power to express.
He had been torn, coming to Arthur. He had been seared to the soul, by choice as much as circumstance, and he had known that the healing he needed would be denied until he could find again the place inside himself that no flame could touch. And as surely as his body echoed his mind, so too at times did his mind echo his body.
He had needed to be where fire could not touch him.
Arthur had not understood that, at first. Not fully. But his friend respected him enough to trust that if he said he needed it, then he did. So Arthur had taken him down with him, into the twilight depths of the ocean, to be embraced and defended by all the water in the world. Arthur had carried him down to rest in the heart of his world, cradled by the welcoming arms of the sea and the patient regard of a friend, in the deep soundlessness where he could heal.
They went down together many times, after that first. There was no schedule, no demand for time between them. When he needed it, J'onn would stand beside the shore and ask, silently, the welcome of the sea. And when he could, when duty allowed, Arthur would answer, a stern and silent figure appearing in the surf to guide him. Sometimes, J'onn would smile, and remember fishermen's tales of the guardians of the sea, birds and porpoises that guided the weary sailor to safe rest. Other times, when the need was too deep within him, he would simply walk into Arthur's embrace, felt the strength of those arms and let them take him to safety. Arthur, for his part, simply guided him when he could, and carried him when he had to, with silent majesty and a warmth in his heart that J'onn could never fear.
And down in the green, half-light realm that reached gently up to swallow them both, Arthur swam beside him as a golden guardian, the touch of strong hands guiding his shaking limbs to rest along the crest of currents, to embrace the flows that tumbled him gently lower, to accept the lazy brush of the seaweed close to shore and the drifting clouds of silt farther out. With steady hands and all the regard of a soul of silence and storms, Arthur revealed to him the majesty of his realm, and asked nothing in return. And as time passed, and the fear inside him retreated as the deep places of his soul realigned themselves, a wondering gratitude bloomed in his heart for the presence of that wild and beautiful soul.
Later again, as he grew stronger, as he remembered how to be whole again, he began to feel something else in the proud heart of his companion. A kind of golden longing, that reached out to brush against his own heart with all the tenuous gentility of the feathered, tumbling fronds around them. For every second of peace that returned to him, J'onn could feel that golden wonder blooming and singing with fierce gratitude, as he and Arthur swam deeper, farther, stronger. As firm as their bodies were, twin shadows of green and gold striking now boldly through that shifting world, the connection between their hearts grew in warm, drifting bursts like the faint shafts of light they scattered dancing in their wake. And J'onn grew to realise something, in that drifting silence.
Arthur loved him. Deeply, fully, without compromise or condition, the wild soul of the sea rested against his with prideful abandon, as wholly accepting as the deeps that cradled them both. For the sea welcomes everything in the end, and if her Lord was just a little pickier, when he chose, he chose wholeheartedly and without reserve.
He had chosen J'onn.
Soon enough, with the sweeping certainty of the tides, it came time to acknowledge what had grown between them. Diving through the laughing spray and letting the rolling waters along the sea bed carry them drifting out into the deep wells of the ocean, J'onn let himself flow over Arthur to take that pale, glowing face in long hands, their bodies twining naturally together in the current. Arthur watched him with radient surety, the golden cloud of his hair shielding them in the twilight embrace of the sea.
Why? J'onn's wondering heart murmured, the soft weight of eternity in his silent voice. Arthur laughed, a rich, wild upsurge from a heart of storms, and in answer gave him a glimpse of what the golden longing had brushed in his heart, a reflection of what Arthur found in J'onn. The deep quiet bloomed between them, the peace Arthur's touch had restored to his soul, and J'onn laughed into the startled brush of the sea. You love in me what I can only find in your presence.
Of course. Arthur curled around him, the powerful beat of his heart reverberating in the timeless waters that embraced them. I love the love in you, that loves the love in me.
Like the tides of the sea, J'onn finished, understanding. The golden warmth danced in delight between them, as much a part of one as the other, a whole and indescribably beautiful thing that embraced and held them both. And flowing behind it, carried in its current, J'onn felt the surge of a desire he had no words, no name for. Fear and need, twined together intimately in a thread that quested silently for the other heart, and found it. Arthur felt its touch, gathered it close to understand its nature, and the strength of tender passion in his response almost shattered J'onn.
Yes, came the murmur between their hearts. Let go, J'onn. I'll find you again.
J'onn had always taken care to remain as solid as possible in the shifting, dreaming embrace of the sea, for fear that he would be caught and dispersed by her, swept to the far corners of that silent world. The sea welcomes everything in the end, but she does not forgive mistakes. He would be lost in her, if he let go. But now, here, he wanted to. With a deep and powerful longing, he wanted to release himself into Arthur, to flow into the warm embrace of that soul, to wind himself deep into every part of the man he loved, into the wild and beautiful soul of the sea. He wanted to be lost inside that storming silence, and be found again only by the love that coursed between them.
Let go, J'onn, Arthur whispered inside him. I will always find you. I could never lose you.
And in the dreaming twilight, J'onn let go. With fierce and joyous abandon, he poured himself into Arthur, into the strident majesty of that loving heart, and let the deep quiet carry them both into eternity.
And if he had no words for what he found there either, well, that was alright.
They were not needed.
