I Became the Villain Alpha's Omega (BL)

The silence of the Northern estate at dawn wasn’t a peaceful thing. Not even a little. It felt heavy, like something was sitting on your chest, swallowing even the sound of the wind rattling the windows.

"Father... please."

The whisper was rough, stripped of all the Duke’s usual deep, commanding voice. Then came a sharp, uneven breath that sounded way too close to a sob. "No... mother, don’t..."

Cherion stirred, his brain dragging itself out of a dream about fluorescent lights and instant ramen from a convenience store, leftovers from a life that now felt less like something he lived and more like a movie he half-remembered.

He blinked, the darkness slowly turning into the familiar, suffocating luxury of Zarius’s bedroom. Beside him, the sheets were completely wrecked, silk twisted like they’d just lost a fight.

He pushed himself up on one elbow, squinting into the dark. Zarius was... not okay. This wasn’t a fever from being sick. His skin was slick with cold sweat so bad he looked like he’d just crawled out of a haunted basement, and his brow was furrowed so deeply it looked like it hurt.

"Your Grace," Cherion whispered, reaching out. No response. The Duke was deep in some nightmare... and yeah, he was definitely losing.

Cherion didn’t hesitate. He leaned over, and gave Zarius a series of light slaps on the cheek. Not hard enough to bruise, but definitely enough to be annoying. "Hey. Wake up, Your Grace."

Zarius jolted awake so violently he nearly sent Cherion flying off the bed. His eyes were wide, tracking things that weren’t there, like invisible monsters were hanging out in the canopy. His lungs took a second to remember how breathing worked. He sat up, hunched over, clutching his chest like he was checking if his heart was still intact. Then he dragged a shaking hand over his face, fingers catching in damp hair.

"...I woke you."

His voice came out rough, low, and absolutely not Duke-like. More like man who just got emotionally mugged by his own brain.

Zarius blinked, as if realizing something incredibly unfortunate.

"...My apologies."

"Nightmare?" Cherion asked softly.

Zarius didn’t answer right away. He just breathed, ragged, shallow pulls of air. "Something like that," he finally answered.

"You were calling for them," Cherion said, watching the way Zarius’s shoulders flinched at the mention. "Your parents."

Zarius let out a long sigh, his hand finally dropping from his face to rest heavily on his stomach. He shifted his weight, turning his body so he was facing Cherion in the dim light. The Great Duke was gone, in his place was a man who looked like he’d been dismantled and put back together wrong.

"Do you ever miss them?" Zarius asked suddenly. "Your parents, I mean."

Cherion went still. He knew what Zarius was asking. He was asking about Cherion Antel’s parents. But Cherion didn’t have those memories. He only had his own. He thought about the flickering lights of foster homes, the smell of cheap linoleum, and the endless rotation of "guardians" who never quite remembered his birthday.

He’d spent years wondering if his real mother had eyes like his, or what kind of work his father did. But after a few years, those questions just turned into background noise.

"Sometimes," Cherion admitted. "I think... I think I used to wonder what they would have thought of me if they saw me now. But at some point, the wondering just becomes a chore. You realize you’re pining for people who are basically fictional characters in your own head. Now? I don’t think about it much. There’s too much happening in the now to worry about the then."

Okay, that answer should apply to both his parents and Cherion Antel’s parents, right?

He looked at Zarius, whose gaze was fixed on the far wall. "What about you? Do you miss them so much that it’s turning into a nightmare? Or is the anniversary just hitting extra hard?"

Zarius let out a short laugh. Completely humorless. "Complicated doesn’t even begin to cover it. My father... He was a man who viewed a son as a legacy project. He wanted perfection. He expected a statue, not a boy. And my mother?" He paused, his mouth twisting as if he were trying to find a word that didn’t taste like poison. "She was an interesting lady. Vibrant. Sharp. But her light was the kind that burned if you got too close."

Cherion could feel the hesitation in the air. Zarius was holding back. He never spoke ill of them. He maintained a stoic, almost religious respect for the titles they held, but the "vibrant spirit" Varo had described earlier clearly had a much darker shadow when seen from the inside.

"It’s the anniversary," Zarius confessed, his voice dropping an octave. "I try not to go there. I try to keep the door locked. But as the date gets closer, my mind starts walking down that hallway before I can stop it. It’s like a reflex. I wake up, and I’m almost fifteen again, standing in the sleet, waiting for something that’s never coming."

Something in Cherion’s chest twisted hard, the same rage he felt when he thought about the "psycho author" who had designed this trauma. He reached out, his hand hovering over Zarius’s arm before he finally committed to the touch.

"I can heal a lot of things, Your Grace," Cherion said quietly. "I can stitch up a sword wound in seconds. I can suppressed that curse until your veins stop screaming. I can even fix your hangovers. But..." He trailed off, his thumb tracing a small circle on Zarius’s skin. "I’m sorry. I don’t think I can heal the pain in your heart. That’s a different kind of medicine."

Zarius didn’t pull away. Instead, he shifted again, moving closer until the warmth of his body began to seep through Cherion’s nightshirt. "You’re already doing more than you think," Zarius whispered.

Without really thinking about anything anymore, because honestly, who cared about that, either way, whatever thoughts had been crowding his head a second ago faded into the background, like noise he didn’t have the energy to listen to, Cherion reached out and pulled Zarius into a hug.

It was awkward for a second. Zarius was much larger, a broad-shouldered man built of muscle and scars, while Cherion was... not. But Zarius went willingly, his head slumping forward until it aligned with Cherion’s chest. He felt Zarius stiffen, then slowly, almost painfully, the Duke began to loosen up. The tension drained out of his spine.

Cherion wrapped his arms around him, one hand resting on the back of Zarius’s head, the other rhythmically patting his back. He felt like he was holding a wounded animal that had finally stopped fighting the trap.

"Just breathe," Cherion murmured. "I’m right here. No past. No not-so-good parents. Just us."

He listened as Zarius’s breathing slowly settled down, the panic fading into something calm and steady. The room felt smaller now, more intimate, as if the walls had moved in to protect them from the rest of the world. Cherion stared at the shadows on the ceiling, feeling the steady beat of Zarius’s heart against his ribs.

He knew they were heading into a nest of vipers. He knew the capital would try to tear them apart using every rumor, every secret, and every ounce of Zarius’s weakness. But as he lay there in the dark, holding the most feared man in the North, Cherion felt a strange sense of power.

Slowly, almost unconsciously, Cherion began to tap into that golden warmth at the center of his being. He didn’t just want Zarius to sleep, he wanted him to rest.

He began to release his healing power, not in a sharp burst, but in a slow, shimmering tide that flowed out of his chest and into Zarius’s body. He let the golden light settle over Zarius, easing the tension in his body and wrapping him in something warm and quiet, like sunlight after rain.

He poured everything he had into the contact, his pity, his loyalty, and a growing affection that terrified him, hoping that this golden veil would act as a shield, keeping the nightmares at bay until the sun finally had the courage to rise over the frozen peaks of the North.

He let out a soft breath and then just collapsed into sleep, all heavy and quiet like his body finally decided to stop fighting everything for once.