Trevor didn’t speak at first. He understood what it ant that Lucas had said it out loud. He lifted his head just slightly, still close enough that their foreheads touched. Lucas held Dean a little tighter, as if grounding himself through the warmth of their son.
"When did you finish it?" Trevor asked quietly.
"Last month," Lucas murmured. "I didn’t tell you. I wasn’t sure I could."
Trevor nodded once.
"It took years," Lucas admitted. "Every ti I opened it, I felt sick. I’d read a few pages, then close it again. I kept telling myself I didn’t need to know more. That is enough; you have read it and, God, you do such a good job at protecting us."
His voice didn’t shake, but his shoulders did. Dean breathed softly in his arms, his small fingers curled near Lucas’s collarbone.
Trevor brushed Lucas’s knuckles with his thumb, his warmth bleeding into their hold.
"But I wanted to know why my life was repeated two tis... while the third is the peaceful one."
Trevor’s hand stilled for a mont. He looked up at Lucas with a quiet understanding that didn’t need words. Lucas shifted Dean slightly, his fingers brushing over the baby’s soft back.
"I knew you’d get there," Trevor said, steady and warm. "I just didn’t know when."
Lucas exhaled slowly. "I hated every page," he admitted. "Every ti I learned sothing new, it felt like sothing inside tightened. But I still kept going."
Trevor’s thumb traced another slow arc across Lucas’s knuckles. He didn’t push. He didn’t interrupt. He let Lucas speak at his own pace, the way he always did when the weight beneath the words was old and sharp.
"I wanted to understand it," Lucas continued. "I wanted to know why the first life was stolen from . And why the second one was pure agony. Why everything was the sa except the ending."
Lucas chuckled darkly. "Well, part of that was Benedict’s doing. So I guess we have that cleared up."
Trevor’s jaw tightened slightly, but he forced his shoulders to stay relaxed. Lucas leaned into the warmth of his presence without realizing it.
Trevor’s expression didn’t change, but sothing cold flickered behind his eyes at the ntion of Benedict. Lucas noticed it, even if Trevor tried to keep his tone calm.
"That wasn’t all of it," Trevor said quietly.
Lucas shifted Dean a little higher against his chest, as if Dean’s tiny warmth could steady him. "No. It wasn’t."
He looked down at Trevor’s hand still covering his own.
"It wasn’t just what Benedict did to ," Lucas continued. "It was what I carried with into every lifeti. That regret..." He swallowed. "It didn’t belong to him. It belonged to ."
Trevor didn’t argue. He just lifted their joined hands and pressed a soft kiss to Lucas’s knuckles, the warmth of it grounding and steady.
"You know what Yerofey said," Trevor murmured. "Rebirth doesn’t happen alone."
Lucas nodded, slow and tense.
"It happens when the soul dies holding sothing it can’t let go of," he whispered. "When there’s a regret so deep it follows the next life like a shadow."
Trevor’s thumb brushed his cheek. "You carried two."
Lucas closed his eyes at that.
"The child," he whispered. "And you."
Trevor’s breath tightened, in the way soone reacts to a truth they’ve lived with silently for years.
Lucas continued, softer now. "In the first life, I lost the baby before I even understood what was happening and I lost you before I had the chance to save either of us. The second was a chain of pain and betrayal. That kind of grief doesn’t disappear. It found again the mont I was reborn."
Trevor nodded. "And it dragged back with you."
Lucas opened his eyes, eting Trevor’s gaze. "That’s why the third life didn’t break." A slow, fragile breath left him. "Because you ca back to ."
Trevor’s voice dropped to a soft certainty. "Because we ca back together. And because this ti, you didn’t face anything alone."
Lucas’s shoulders loosened, just enough for his breath to steady.
But another thought surfaced "Yerofey warned about people born with siren abilities," he said. "Dominant ogas trained to pull mories out of people. To wake them. Or destroy them."
Trevor’s hand curled protectively around the back of Lucas’s neck. "I rember that part."
Lucas looked away, jaw tightening. "They were rare in his ti. Almost extinct. But not now."
"No," Trevor said. "Not now."
Lucas’s voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. "Benedict used , Trevor. The Church used the rest. They were trying to force the past into the present. They wanted to recreate whatever future they dread of. Imagine life like this, a ga where you can reset when sothing is not going your way... but the price is the suffering of a handful of people."
Lucas’s voice thinned at the edges, but there was no fear left in it. Only the echo of sothing that had already been survived.
"They treated lives like Chapters they could rewrite," he said quietly. "As if suffering was just... collateral."
Trevor’s hand smoothed up along the back of Lucas’s neck, warm and steady. "And now they’re gone."
Lucas didn’t imdiately respond. He blinked once, and the tension in his jaw eased slowly.
"The old Church," Trevor added, quieter but firr, "is gone, Lucas. Caelan burned their network out from the capital up. Dax shut down the eastern sanctum. And I handled the rest."
Lucas exhaled through his nose, sothing faint and tired but relieved slipping out with the breath. "I know. I read the reports."
"You didn’t read all of them," Trevor said gently.
Lucas didn’t argue. So horrors didn’t belong in their house. So endings didn’t deserve retelling.
But Trevor still brushed his thumb along Lucas’s cheekbone, guiding him to et his eyes.
"You’re safe," he said. "And so are our boys. There’s no one left who can pull your mories apart. No one left who can reach into your head and drag out a life that isn’t theirs."
Lucas nodded slightly. "I believe you."
Trevor leaned in, forehead to Lucas’s again. "Good."
Lucas swallowed, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer and steadier.
"When Benedict was alive," Lucas said, "I always felt like the past was waiting behind my eyes. Like if I blinked wrong, sothing would break and everything would repeat again."
Trevor’s grip tightened just a little around his shoulder. "That was his goal. To keep you unstable. To keep you open."
"But I’m not," Lucas said. "Not anymore."
Trevor smiled, small and sure. "No. You’re not."
Lucas settled Dean, adjusting the blanket. The baby stretched his tiny fingers and relaxed again, unconcerned by the weight of history in the room.
"I think what Yerofey ant," Lucas said slowly, "when he wrote that the last life ends when regret ends... I think he ant that peace doesn’t arrive because fate stops testing you. It arrives because you stop chasing what broke you the first ti."
Trevor nodded. "And you finally did."
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