TW: Alternate Universe-Reincarnation, Drinking, Angst, Multiple Selves

~Chapter One: Strife's POV

It started out innocently enough. Normal enough.

Little towheaded William Strife who drew pictures of his imaginary friend. Drew them in his mind before he knew how to hold a crayon. But they didn't know that.

It started out as boxes for bodies, circles for heads, heavy lines for appendages. The indistinct drawings of childhood, where the scale was always off, relative importance of people being more important than their physical dimensions. A squiggle of dark hair and just two black dots for eyes. Teachers would ask who that was. Lots of little boys in the class had dark-hair and dark-eyes. Lots of little boys down the street too. But no, it was none of those boys. Will was insistent. Not those boys, another boy he knew, but one he hadn't met yet.

He'd draw himself in the pictures too. Blond hair, green eyes, holding hands with his ordinary enough imaginary friend with a smile so big it made up for the thin line that was Will's mouth. Smiled enough for the both of them.

He grew older, and his hair a little darker. Did well enough in school. He liked science and art and everyone commented it was such an odd combination, but Will excelled, so they let him be. No longer did he show his teachers the drawings that had become only for his eyes.

Reading predictable books about love and seeing vulgar images of intercourse, Will grew up perfectly normal. Hid boxes of drawings of a dark-eyed, dark-haired boy under his bed in a shoebox. Sometimes they held hands; sometimes they did other things. Sometimes, after his parents went to bed, he would look at the images rendered with his own hand and touch himself in the dark.

His acquaintances, they weren't really friends, he was too serious to make friends, to disclose his private thoughts, would joke about when they were younger and Will would compulsively draw his imaginary friend. Like a normal teen, he would laugh the whole idea off as if it were nothing. Yeah, kids do such weird things. Now he knew well enough not to share, they would never understand. Honestly, he didn't understand either.

Dozens of pictures, maybe more, definitely more. He had lost some of them in the margins of notebooks or not saved the file before closing the Photoshop window, instead just etching the memory onto his mind. Subtle changes between each rendition. When he drew himself, it was always the same. Sort of blond, sort of green-eyed, sort of alright looking, he guessed. But the other, his 'imaginary friend,' was subtly different. Sometimes his eyes were warmer, browner; sometimes black pupils all the way down with no iris. Different heights, different weights. Same smile. That was clear. Same boy. Will grew older and the drawings changed from boys with shaggy hair to grown men. Stubble and muscles and all the trappings of maturity. His hands knew the man in the picture.

Each day he resolved that he would put aside the habit of drawing, but he didn't, its allure too strong.

In college, a boyfriend-of-the-week found the shoebox in his closet. Looking through it without asking like the inconsiderate asshole he was. Asked about the pictures, though, and the only answer Will had was "my imaginary friend."

Later that night, on his back with his legs in the air, he moaned out "Alex," which was definitely not his asshole boyfriend's name. Not even close. Well, that was the end of that. Asshole had the presence of mind to finish and tie off the condom before storming off in a rage. Left Will still hard and alone.

Once Will had showered and wrapped himself in his fluffy comforter to keep the chill out, he pulled the box down from the shelf. Examined the pictures again, almost twenty years of them. Alex, Alex, Alex. So that was his name. It had never occurred to him before that his friend had a name. Just an extension of himself, really. The idea of him was always sort of hazy. But now he had a name and Will rolled it around in his head first, then off of his lips. Alex Parvis.

Flipping through the images, there were strange worlds that invaded like memories he never had. Parvis smiling and weaving spells made of blood. Falling backwards into Will's arms and laughing at imaginary horrors. Jumping into a volcano and Will locking him inside, throwing aside sarcastic comments. Red skirts and crucifictions. Quiet anger turning into begrudging friendship and subtle confessions while the world died all around them. Touches and kisses and fucks, but never that word. Never that overused word that felt wrong and right at the same time.

Will shoved the drawings back into the box, resolved to burn the whole thing in the morning. He knew he wouldn't do that, though. Besides, there were just as many files on his hard disk too.

Got too drunk at a party, because that was a thing he did now, barely two months out of college with no job to wake up for, just the slow creep of responsibility and adulthood nipping at his heels.

Got too drunk at a party and ended up attached at the lips to a tall man with dark-eyes and dark-hair who smelled nice and smiled into his open mouthed kisses. He let Will pull on his hair and laughed when he had to stand on his tip-toes to reach. Laughed into his ear and said he was handsome. It felt warm, familiar.

Woke up late in his own bed, with his head pounding and his mouth dry. Will didn't remember how he got home. There was a file open on his laptop screen, an image of his back pressed against a wall and Alex Parvis with his leg slotted between Will's. Not kissing, not quite, just smiling, teasing, and taller than he had ever been before.

Found a job, something that paid his bills and left him a little on the side. Sat in an office all day and typed until his wrists hurt. Found a boyfriend, someone sweet who was always happy to see him, even if Will was largely ambivalent. Just accepted it as part of his character, Will supposed. Maybe it was.

Will talked to him about the pictures, finally opening up enough to share his secret with someone for the first time since childhood.

"Maybe it's your soulmate?" his boyfriend smiled. But it wasn't the same. His boyfriend had brown-hair and brown-eyes too, but not the right smile. Will tolerated him, though. Slammed his hips down and bit back the wrong name. Now he knew better.

Didn't like the music. Not one bit. Will stood against the wall with a vodka cranberry in one hand thinking over how...gay that was of him, vodka and cranberry. Even though he didn't frequently think of that word as describing his experience. Sipped at the drink's sweetness and burn and watched his boyfriend have a good time. As his boyfriend got tipsy he held onto Will's arm, too close and too hot. Will remembered cold flesh under his hands, clawing at a pale back until blood welled up to the surface, a sick feeling that it was his own blood trickling from the other's body. He was going to be sick.

Will pushed his boyfriend away and made a beeline for the bathroom, dodging drunk concert goers, tiny girls tottering on too-tall heels and the like, boys in eyeliner and too-tight tees. Now that he was away he didn't feel so ill, which was good because the line for the toilet was long. Splashed cold water on his face instead. Turned around and nearly passed out.

"Woah, you okay there, man?" Hands, big and bony, gripped onto Will's shoulders holding him in place.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." He wasn't. He wasn't.

"Yeah, sure," Alex Parvis' hand dropped to the small of Will's back, guiding him backwards out of the cramped bathroom and into the long dark hallway. When Will's back hit the wall behind him, he about died. "We've met before." Parvis' voice was swallowed up by the music blasting through the speakers. Slotted a leg between Will's like it was nothing. Like everything.

"You have no idea."

The smile was the only confirmation that Will needed.

"At that party on 47th? What was her name?"

"Minty's."

"Yeah," said with a smile. His hands moving again to grip Will's hips and pin him to the wall. A good four or five inches taller, this time. Wasn't always this much of a discrepancy. Sometimes they hovered at just the same height, he remembered. The way Parvis smelled, it was forcing him to remember. All the lives they shared, passing time and knowledge and affection between them.

Will laughed though neither of them had said anything funny. He'd only thought it. William Strife and Alexander Parvis, destroyers of realms. Will's red blood was a clever disguise, to keep him pliant and unsuspecting. They could tear up this world as well, if it pleased them. Someone, something, was trying to make him forget. And it had failed. It had failed because of the depth of this infinite thing between them.

But what if he could learn to enjoy this life, with its quiet progression and succession of attractive enough bodies that were not Parvis'? What if he could go to his job, earn a living, settle down, raise a family? Those things could be open to Will, and open to Parvis too, if this time he remained silent. Him, it had always been him, hadn't it? Will was always the one so eager to pierce the veil between them, even if he tried to act casual about it. Desperately, he would try and keep the promise he made but Parvis never remembered.

I'll find you, Idiot.

Parvis bounced his his Converses. "Can I kiss you now?"

This was it, wasn't it? Even though they had been drunk and sloppy months ago at that party, Will could only half remember. This time he was clear-headed, well, only a little tipsy, and knew the ramifications of what was to come. A hundred lives in a hundred realms but it had always ended the same way. A world on fire, waiting for a respawn.

The way Parvis looked at him was a little wild. Kind of hungry too. He'd seen it before with multiple sets of eyes. What was this illusion all around them?

"No, I don't think you can." Will couldn't look at him as he spoke, couldn't fall into the trap of his eyes, trying to memorize what they looked like in this lifetime, as if he could ever forget.

With that, Parvis released him, took a step back, ran his fingers through his hair. "Sorry, I guess."

Will mumbled his apology, slid away and back to his boyfriend who still held his half-finished drink. Kissed him on the cheek and wrapped an arm around his stomach. Swayed to the music even though he still hated it.

The next morning he did burn the box and its pictures of Parvis. Watched them go up in flames just like the worlds they had killed together. Didn't matter that it was against city ordinance to start fires in what passed for a yard. Didn't matter that Will's boyfriend looked at him like he had lost his mind, and maybe he had. Went to his computer too, deleted whole folders of pictures. Tossed his boyfriend face-first into the mattress and fucked him until he screamed Will's name like a man possessed. While he slept unaware, Will booted up his computer and started sketching. Four or five inches taller, very dark brown eyes, iris barely visible, touch more gold in his brown hair.

They broke up, Will and his boyfriend. Seemed normal enough, because Will was an ordinary man who just happened to have vivid memories of un-ordinary lives. Still went to his job, still tried to pick up men in bars when he got too lonely. Remembered another bar, sitting next to a cousin who wasn't his cousin but was always sort of his cousin. Parvis was emaciated in those memories, and they only saw each other at night.

It was winter when they passed each other again. Will was going down into the subway and Parvis was coming up, a red scarf around his neck with gold threads running through. He got a strange feeling that red was always their color.

There was that smile on his lips, like this time Parvis knew their secret, but it couldn't be, he never knew their secret, it was always Will who did. Will stuffed his hands in the pockets of his overcoat and headed on his way. He'd already made the resolution that this life would be different.

Minty held another party in the spring, and Will declined the invitation.

He sat at home and built a tower out of legos. This structure he knew too. Built it as high as he could manage to scale, and it needed big tanks of liquid out front.

The knock on his door was heavy and frantic. But there was no one in his life left to knock. Still, as the sound persisted he was forced to make his way to the door. On the other end of the peephole, Parvis.

With shaking hands he undid the chain, followed by the deadbolt. Put words into his mouth, 'what are you doing here?' but they never came out. Instead, Parvis' hands fisted in his shirt, practically lifting him up off the ground.

"Why? Why didn't you come? You were supposed to be there," Parvis' voice was frantic, crazy. Almost as crazy as Will felt when he sketched, or built towers out of legos.

"What are you talking about?" His voice was deliberately even, trying not to give away how his heart pounded in his chest.

"When I need you, you're always there."

Will's heart went from pounding to pierced. No, no, Parvis never remembered. Only he with his not-actually-red-blood remembered. He'd cut himself shaving and looked at his wound, really looked with no preconceptions, saw his blood run blue-green.

"What's that?" Parvis was looking over top of Will's head to the coffee table. Will didn't have to turn around to know what it was that caught his attention.

"I lived there. A long time ago. Or maybe not so long ago. I'm not sure."

Parvis let go of him and buried his face in his hands, half screaming his words. "Why do I have all these funny memories about you? Why did you put them there? What have you done to me?" An endless stream of questions that Will couldn't answer.

In the end, they ended up on the couch, Parvis' head in William's lap as he finished building his tower. Parvis asked if they could build his base next.

Will knew they were both doomed.

Maybe it was the world that was only imaginary.

~Chapter Two: Parv's POV

A, D, F, A, D, F.

A, D, F, A, D, F.

It was a strange, familiar thing. Hearing those notes for the first time, but not the first time. But it was just a game, right? A familiar progression. Nothing odd at all. Alex dropped the controller at the time and his friend got mad at him because it clattered against the floor. But it was no big deal, picked it up and went right back to playing. Just startled him. That was all.

Wasn't like video games were haunted with dim memories he had lost track of. That was crazy.

It didn't change that he had heard those notes before, played them before. Yeah, not the first time. When he was just a kid handed a recorder in music class. The teacher with the sharp nose told him that sounded nice but wouldn't he please just play the notes as instructed. Good boy.

Alex was considered popular, he supposed, funny, kind of geekish, but that was in now. Stick-figure guys with messy hair and low-slung jeans who spent their evenings playing one of a handful of acronyms. Used it to his advantage.

Got a girlfriend in highschool who would sit in his lap and work the mouse and keyboard while he ran his fingers over the tops of her exposed thighs. She'd squirm in his lap when she got too ticklish and he liked that because she'd rub against his cock and more often than not they'd end up sprawled on the floor with his hand up her shirt. The thing he liked best was not how soft her breasts were but that she had green eyes. That was important. Yeah.

They broke up when they went away to college because it wasn't important they stayed together.

Alex liked philosophy because he could just say what he thought something meant and didn't have to worry if he was right or not, only prove that he had read what was assigned. Throw in a couple of lines of reference and he was golden. No one thought quite like he did and for once that was a benefit and not a detriment.

His parents asked what he was going to do with his life. Pushed his peas around on his plate and said he was going to be a musician. They were exasperated, but didn't fight him. It was beyond helping at that point. He knew that they were looking for another answer, and it could have been any other answer. Next time maybe he'd say he was going into the porn industry.

Took a girl home from a party on campus. Twirled her bleach-blonde hair between his fingers. From the way she laughed, Parvis knew he had hooked her. His mates made fun of him for that, his diligent adherence to bringing home blondes. Everyone had preferences, he didn't think his were so strange.

Instead of hooking up, they sat on the floor of Parvis' common room playing Mario Kart because he knew once she was through the door that he wasn't going to be able to perform. He was too drunk and she wasn't quite right. Maybe he was too picky. From experience he knew it was better to divert her attention now, before they got into bed. Once he had their shirts off it was somehow more insulting. This way he was just a charming dork.

She fell asleep against his chest and he appreciated the warmth.

Worked retail during the day in between his classes so he had plenty of time to rehearse at night. Only problem was he had to stay clean-shaven, which translated to having about fifteen nicks on his face at any given time. It was worth it though because he was home free at four p.m. and the customers always liked him, mentioned his name when they were cashing out even if all he had done was smile at them when they entered.

Bandmates teased him that he only seemed to play one thing during warmups.

A, D, F, A, D, F.

Must have really liked Zelda as a kid. By now he was used to it and smiled and waved them off. Didn't say anything about how he knew the tune long before. Like it was his first lullaby that his parents never sang.

People rotated in and out of the band. They played at tiny bars without real stages and Parvis thought it was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Kissed girls after their set and went home alone smelling like beer and stale cigarettes. He couldn't imagine things being better than they were.

Then he was the one to rotate out. Finished college and moved away because he was worried about feeling stuck. Stuck how, he wasn't sure. Left and all the accents around him changed. But that was awesome because now he was even more handsome and charming, although really he was just the same. Found another group of guys happy to have him along, thought he was talented. Sold jeans to middle-aged housewives and winked at their grown sons, home for Thanksgiving holiday. Considered other possibilities since the blonde girls and their smooth bodies kept coming up short for him.

The first time he lost himself a little bit. Liked the out-of-control-in-control split of pushing into the guy below him. Liked the noises he made, deep and guttural, and the way he had been patient with him. Explained everything along the way and laughed politely when Parvis messed up. Liked the way his muscles moved under his skin and the lines of definition along his abdomen. Didn't like his blue eyes, but that was okay because at least now Parvis didn't feel like the whole prospect was so scary.

Felt like he didn't know anyone at the party. A friend of a friend, really. Hadn't bothered him before. Just drank his beer and laughed at the right places and eventually eased his way into the conversations around him. Didn't even have to say something particularly meaningful, they just liked the sound of his voice. That much he could handle. Said things about Heidegger and Levinas and they pretended like they understood.

A sure hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled him away from a conversation he long ago lost track of. Lips were against his almost immediately and he was just tipsy enough to return the kiss. It was warm and familiar even though he didn't recognize the shorter blond who had entrapped him. His eyes were closed but his mouth open and all Parvis could think about was putting his hands on either side of his face and kissing him silly because he wouldn't get this opportunity again for a long time. Why did he know that? Why did he know the blond was reserved with his affection and was just too overwhelmed at the moment to reject Parvis' actions?

When Parvis slipped his fingers under the hem of the blond's shirt his eyes flew open. Wide and green. Parvis smiled into their kisses because he had never felt so happy and he wasn't sure why. Wasn't sure why and it terrified him, how beautiful this man standing on his tip-toes to reach his mouth was. How he felt hard and sure of himself but Parvis knew, somehow knew, that he'd deny being so enthusiastic in the morning. Laughed into the blond's ear and told him he was handsome because somehow he felt he'd get smacked in the face for calling him beautiful, but he was.

His name was Will and he didn't know why he was so happy either. Took Parvis home with him because he felt like he might die if he didn't. Parvis could tell that he was a little past drunk but their hands twined together seemed such a perfect fit that he didn't question it. Let Will climb into his lap on the couch, stripped of their shirts but not moving much beyond kissing. Kissing everywhere though. Each noise Will made was like a stab to the gut and Parvis got hard just thinking about him on his back with his legs in the air. The way the muscles of his calves would look. The noises Will would make. The blond raked his fingers down Parvis' chest a little too hard and Will mumbled something in return that sounded suspiciously like 'you used to like that.'

They had another stop before the bedroom. Will said that it was important. Sat Parvis down in his office chair and sat in his lap. Worked the mouse and keyboard and Parvis worked Will's neck, sucking and biting and making the blond hiss and squirm. He liked the squirming best, the way Will's ass pressed against him. Wanted to bend him over the computer desk and fuck him right there.

Will showed him drawings. Said it was of them. Yeah, looked like Will, that was for sure. He was really talented. Parvis thought about how awesome it must be to be able to draw your own custom pornography. But the other guy in the pictures kept changing. Always dark hair and dark eyes. And sort of similar features, maybe. But it wasn't him. And for a moment he wasn't sure which option was the less disturbing one. Either Will was just a dorkily charming drunk trying to seduce him with silly stories or he really was the man in the pictures.

How did he know that Will would never show these to him sober?

"You don't blush green in any of them..."

Will stopped flipping through the images and held perfectly still.

Where had that even come from? Parvis didn't know. He had just said it.

It must have been the wrong thing to say because Will was out of his lap in an instant. Could hear him down the hall, puking into the toilet followed by heavy wheezing. Parvis felt obligated to check on him. Rubbed his back while Will took hits from his rescue inhaler.

"At least you have one, this time."

Didn't know where that came from either. But this time, Will didn't comment.

Put Will to bed, tucked him in and got ready to leave. This wasn't how he anticipated things going. Not by a long shot.

Turned off the lights and heard Will humming in his half-sleep.

A, D, F, A, D, F.

Parvis was not above running when the sudden fear gripped him.

Didn't pick up blonde girls or green-eyed boys any more. Just focused on selling jeans and playing music. Told everyone he was too busy for that. Didn't mind being alone.

Didn't tell anyone that it was okay because his dreams had become so vivid that reality started to pale. Flashes of lives he had never lived. Silly fantasies about a guy at a party that had rubbed him both the right and the wrong way. After awhile, he put it out of his mind altogether. Took home blonde girls and green-eyed boys again.

Saw him at his concert. Well, they had opened. Looked quite a state. Maybe drinking wasn't for Will and he hadn't gotten the idea yet.

Wanted to ask him if he had seen his band's set earlier in the night, but that question seemed so mundane.

Told Will they had met before and when the blond responded that he 'had no idea' Parvis wanted to shout that he did. He had some idea but it had driven him mad for months until he forced himself to forget it all. Seeing Will like this, a little sweaty and a little drunk, brought it all back in tidal waves of longing and regret.

Somehow, that night, months and months ago now, Parvis knew he didn't have to ask for Will's number, or to stay. This thing between them was more than that. Something great and terrifying written by their lips and hands. An infinite, destructive, beautiful thing.

Will said that he wouldn't kiss him.

That was fine. It was okay. Parvis tried to check his lust and let Will go. Watched him walk away and stared at his ass the whole way off. Watched him wrap his arms around a guy who wasn't Parvis and smile weakly. It was fine. It wasn't fine.

Asked his bandmates if they could just take his amp home in their car because he had to leave.

Went home and rubbed himself raw in the shower, came in his hand pretending it was Will's mouth wrapped around his cock. He was kneeling in the dust and Parvis' mouth tasted like blood.

At first he didn't think the red scarf suited him, but when it brought Will to him, if only in passing, Parvis thought the gold threads were maybe magical. Maybe it was the two of them who were magical. Hard to tell. The blond skipped down the steps into the subway without saying a word. Parvis buried his nose into the soft yarn around his neck and inhaled. It was okay.

Got both the blond hair and green-eyes (apps were great for that). Though he couldn't have been older than nineteen. Too skinny though. Will was broader. It was just a hookup so he didn't think anything of it when he breathed 'Will' and came into the condom. He'd done way stranger things than that for a bit of excitement.

Spring came, slowly.

Watched the door from the minute he entered. Minty put a drink in his hand and fluttered away to entertain her other guests. Stood in their corner of her apartment and waited for Will to arrive.

When he didn't come Parvis retraced the steps from a year prior. Imagined Will's hand in his, taking him down the subway, transferring lines. Remembered something further back, where they could fly.

Knew it was the right door, but also remembered a secret door. And a door locked to a motel room that he had picked. And a door to a rich man's house who would never care for him and only saw him as a joke. Remembered a lot of doors that had stood between them. Some sort of magic, but Parvis got the distinct feeling that he was the witch around here.

Will opened the door after Parvis nearly broke it down in a panic. Looked rumpled and perfect in his sweats and heather gray tee. Parvis felt distinctly overdressed. Grabbed Will by the front of his shirt because it was not okay. It was not fine. Not anymore.

"Why? Why didn't you come? You were supposed to be there," at first Parvis thought he meant the party. But that wasn't it. He meant their whole lives. Some twenty some years already lost. He was supposed to come for him, not run away, Idiot.

"What are you talking about?" His voice was deliberately even. But Parvis could hear the way his heart pounded in his chest. Remembered the way his blood smelled, yellow cake batter and oranges.

"When I need you, you're always there."

Will didn't say anything, but Parvis saw what he needed over his shoulder. A blocky reconstruction of a familiar place. A worn out photograph. A greenhouse with strange crops and a building that was full of machines. Parvis had held Will against one of those machines, once. It vibrated as it crushed up ores and Parvis pressed Will against it so firmly that he came undone against it. A panting, shivering mess.

"I lived there. A long time ago. Or maybe not so long ago. I'm not sure."

They had lived a lot of places, not so long ago. Maybe they still lived there. One reality bleeding into the next. A series of places, all of them on fire.

Parvis let go of him and buried his face in his hands, half screaming his words. "Why do I have all these funny memories about you? Why did you put them there? What have you done to me?"

He wasn't expecting an answer. Didn't really expect Will to have one because his eyes were just as full of sorrow and fear as Parvis felt. This was a big thing, and infinite thing. Something they weren't supposed to remember, but they had forgotten why.

Couldn't forget Will. Never. Didn't want to.

Credit to imperfectkreis on Ao3