Happiness

"I want to protect your smile. Yours and Oliver's, even if it takes my own life."

A familiar voice, but no face to match with it. Just a wall of black, an endless void. Though he couldn't see, Matias still reached into the vast darkness for the owner of the voice. He screamed and called out a name, but no sound left his throat. Tears blinded him. Why was he crying?

"Don't forget how to smile, okay?"

BANG!! BANG!! BANG!!

Matias sat up with a start, gasping for air. He was still surrounded by darkness, but it wasn't blinding. It was the darkness of nighttime, with moonlight shining through his windows. He sighed and wiped the cold sweat off his face. He couldn't sleep well anymore, not with that memory playing over and over like a broken record. He looked to the side, met with the empty half of his bed. Three months passed since that happened. Sometimes he wanted to pretend like it never happened, like it was just a bad dream, that Smiley was off killing someone and would be back by dinnertime. But the doors never opened.
At least Oliver finally stopped asking about where he was.
The milkman subconsciously brought his left hand up, moonlight reflecting off the ring. Smiley was always there for him, hadn't he? Back when Matias nearly got gunned down by someone seeking revenge. He could still remember seeing Smiley break down and cry in front of him when he thought he would die. That was also the moment Smiley confessed to him. Matias still remembered that sense of suspicion and curiosity. How could a freak like Smiley claim to be in love with him, he wondered. Now look at him, married to that frea- No, to that sweet man.
Unable to get go back to sleep, he got out of the bed and started getting ready for work. His uniform on, he fixed his bow tie while staring at his reflection. An easy smile displayed itself on his face even though that was the last thing he wanted to do. But he had to keep smiling. He promised.
Breakfast was cooked and waiting at the table for Oliver to eat before heading to school. As he waited for his son, Matias flipped through the channels of the TV, looking for something to distract him, maybe a show for his child to enjoy.
Suddenly, his heart froze. He stopped on a news channel where a reporter interviewed a cop. A cop with a smile far too wide. Instantly could Matias see flashbacks of that vicious grin and those wild eyes, he could feel all the strikes of the hammer as if they were happening again right now. He stared at the screen, watching Cameron talk so smoothly and easily. Every second he saw that smile he could see a vivid image of the man's true, warped personality. The fingers that numbly held the remote now tightened with silent rage, rage against himself... and fear. There were so many times he wanted to find Cameron and slaughter him like the pig he was, but he couldn't.

"You can't even hope to beat me."

It was true. The guy shot himself in the fucking face and didn't even flinch. What could he do that could stop an immortal?
"-recently we've noticed a decline in homicide, is that correct?" the reporter asked Cameron.
"Yes! It's gone down drastically with the disappearance of the murderer, Smiley," the cop nodded. "We haven't heard of his strikes in other areas, either. Hey, maybe we got lucky and he fell in some acid?" he laughed brightly.
He talked more about the statistics of the lower crime rates, but Matias couldn't hear. Who the fuck did he think he was, laughing as if nothing happened?! And that joke, it was intended for him, wasn't it? To jab at him and taunt him about what happened, about the sacrifice made to keep him safe. You kill someone and laugh straight in the family's face-
CRACK!
Matias blinked and looked down, seeing that the remote snapped in half from his grip. He hadn't even realized he'd been squeezing it that hard.
If only he could crush Cameron's skull like that, or one of his acid jars. It was a plan that had circulated through his mind the day after running away. Just go back and get Smiley's jar and break it, happy ending. But it wasn't that simple, he knew that full well. Cameron was crazy but he was smart, and there was no doubt in his mind he was waiting for the milkman to return. So it came down to the matter of praying for Smiley to break himself free or running straight into a suicide mission.
He looked down at his hand, feeling his pulse quicken against his fingers, calmed only by the ring. He clenched his fist slowly. Smiley had always been there to save him, it was his turn to save him.

Matias looked at the lonely house at the outskirts of town. He remembered every detail of it, from when he was inside to when he was running away. Finding it wasn't a problem, he had just been wondering what to DO with that knowledge. He let out a shaky exhale, trying to calm himself. He had spent the past two weeks watching the Cameron's routine carefully. Right now he had to be on patrol, or maybe finding another victim. Regardless, he shouldn't be inside. Even if he was... Matias looked down at the milk bottles strapped to his hip, each one with a drenched rag attached to their insides. Special milk he touched up himself to substitute molotovs. It'd be enough to at least distract the cop while he ran off again.
The door was unlocked and opened without a fight. Matias stared at the shadowed hallways, on edge and overly-cautious about everything. His heart beat heavily against his chest as he stepped inside, tensing with each groan the floor gave to his weight. No response, and he couldn't hear anything. It made him feel worse. The memories that stuck to this place flashed in his mind, reminding him of just what he was risking. But he kept moving forward.
The house was barren, it lacking decorations that would make it comfy and filled with personality. Of course, the milkman knew full well that the "decorations" were all stored in one place. Noticing a lonely picture on a dusty shelf, he looked to see a photo of a woman with a cheerful smile at a candy store, dressed as a strange type of nurse. Who was that? Another victim? He set the picture down and turned around to look at the door that lead to the basement. His heartbeat quickened again. Just a closed door, but he could imagine all the silent agony and torture held behind it, all the immortals begging for freedom. His ring felt heavy against his finger.

It was how he remembered- shelves lining the walls, all of them holding green jars. How many people were here, Matias wondered as he gazed at them all. Hundreds? How long had they been here? Were they conscious? He shook his head. No, he needed to focus right now. He stared at each jar. Some had an eyeball (some of which seemed to follow his movements), some had fingers, tongues, ears, hearts; just about anything. But how could he tell which one was Richard?
"About time you got here!" laughed a chilling voice.
Matias spun around just as the door slammed shut, the familiar man dressed in his officer uniform leisurely making his way down the stairs. And in one arm was a jar.
"Pretty ironic breaking into a cop's house, huh?" Cameron laughed. Matias said nothing, glaring at him, his gaze flickering to the jar every few seconds. Catching the stare, Cameron stopped a few feet away from him and held up the jar. In it was a heart. "Was this what you were looking for? Smiley? Or wait, his name's Richard, right? Ha! Get it? Wright? Nothing? Man, I would've thought having him as a husband would have given you a sense of hum-"
"Shut the hell up!" Matias spat. Logic and reason told him to throw the molotov bottle and run, but he stayed glued in his spot, staring at the jar- at his husband. He could feel himself trembling as he watched the heart pulse ever faintly. That was Richard, that's what happened to him when he saved him. Now it was his turn.
Adrenaline shot through Matias's veins as time slowed around him. He knew Cameron well enough to know that the man was hiding a weapon on his person. Red eyes glanced at the holster, barely spotting the handle of a gun poking out. Acid bullets maybe? He looked down at the strap across his waist and the milk bottles jutting out. If he threw one, there was a chance the fire could spread to the only exit out of here. But if he didn't do anything, then Cameron would undoubtedly attack him.
It seemed like death had a huge chance in every scenario, but that was okay, Matias realized as he let out a calm breath. He was willing to die for this.
Time resumed, and the milkman grabbed one of his bottles. Catching the movement, Cameron's smile widened as he pulled out his gun, but before he could aim it, the bottle, rag aflame, crashed against the cop, drenching him in oil that all caught on fire. He dropped the gun as he was engulfed, Matias quickly slamming against him with enough force to throw them both onto one of the shelves. Cameron dropped the jar, several others falling with it, each one shattering and spilling their contents. Even with the acid at his feet, even with the fire eating his body, Cameron laughed cheerfully and smiled widely at Matias. His smile would melt off his face before regenerating almost instantly. Flaming hands grabbed the milkman's shoulders and threw him across the room, making him break the next shelf. Matias coughed. The throw alone damaged him badly, every breath he took created a sharp pain in his ribs. He struggled to get up as the flaming cop advanced towards him.
"You think you can stop me with something so stupid?!" the officer barked with laughter. He reached down and picked up his gun. "I'll let your husband regenerate so I can tell him all about your death before I kill him again too! Then I'll go for your son! And his friends! And every goddamn person you care about!" Cackling maniacally, Cameron aimed the gun and-
Several hands grabbed the officer's arm, yanking it back. He looked over his shoulder to see past immortals he'd had in jars, each one regenerated back to their normal selves. His eyes were wide in shock before his flaming face twisted into glee, erupting with laughter. "You've got to be kidding me! You think all of you are enough to stop me?!"
Matias dimly stared at this scene, his vision darkening. Every time he blinked there were more immortals surrounding Cameron. All except for one, which rushed towards him. He could feel himself get picked up, and as he was carried away he made out the sound of gunshots. Gunshots and shouts.
And Cameron's screams.

The veil of black parted to show a ceiling. Vision cleared, and he recognized his bedroom. Matias laid there for a moment, staring at the roof. That scene, with Cameron and the fire. Was that all just a dream?
"Daddy! Daddy! You're awake!!"
Hearing his son's voice, Matias turned his head to see the small boy running towards him. And leaned against the doorway was Richard. He caught his breath.
"Daddy, look! Uncle's back!" Oliver practically shouted while tugging at his father's shirt and pointing to the other man. Matias stared at Richard for what felt like hours, trying to decipher if this too was a dream. Finally, he smiled. It was small, with tears running down his cheeks. "Y-Yeah," he replied.
Richard reflected the smile and made his way to the bed, setting a hand on Oliver's head. "Why don't you go set the table?" he gently said. The little boy nodded and smiled at his father once more before running off.
"Is this real?" Matias asked once they were left alone. "Am I going crazy?"
"You've never been sane to begin with," Richard chuckled as he sat down at the edge of the bed. "It's okay, neither have I."
"But you're... you're here," It was all Matias could think to say. He still couldn't register all this, still couldn't believe it.
"I know. I never thought this would happen." Richard's smile dimmed as he looked his husband in the eyes. There was a glassy shine in his own. "It's all because of you."
"Of... Of course I did," the milkman mumbled. Despite his body's protests he reached out to hold Richard's face, to touch him and know for a fact that he was real. The scruffy bear, the square jaw. He missed it all. "It's my turn to protect you," he whispered before pulling him in for a kiss. It felt so warm, like puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly. He'd never forgotten this feeling, these butterflies, these fireworks. He could barely taste salt in the kiss. Was it from his tears or Richard's?

"Welcome home," Matias whispered against Richard's lips. "We missed you."