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youwouldntlietopapa · 1 day

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Lights Out

Rating: 18+

Features: Copia x OC (Isobel)

Word count: 3384

Note: hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, pain, loss, grief, loss of identity, listen it's just gonna be a sad one this time. I'm sorry.

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He turned the lights off.

Again.

He turned the lights off like they burned his skin, like standing anywhere near them was painful. And it was, she thought to herself. In the most horrible way. In a way she didn’t know how to protect him from. Days and weeks, they’d been working on it. Talking and hurting and crying and grieving together. In private moments where Papa didn’t belong, but the mask didn’t come off any more. In the places that were supposed to be just for them.

And still, he turned the lights off.

“Cope?” Izzy’s voice was soft in the dark, followed by the sound of her shifting on the bed toward the door. Staring at the place she knew he was standing. “Come to bed, my love.”

His bare feet padded almost silently across the thick bedroom rug. The quiet hiss of bedding sliding against bedding as he pulled the covers back and slid in beside her. All part of the routine that had developed since… Since he’d come back. Izzy waited, holding back, until he was more settled. More at home. More himself. Reaching over when she felt him let that tense breath go, sinking into the bed, and then into her arms. Pulling her tightly against himself and burying his face in her hair.

“I’m right here, baby.” She whispered, kissing his shoulder, hands rubbing gentle circles over his back. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

He shuddered in her embrace, forcing himself to take a shaky breath. Breathing in the familiar scent of her. Of home. “Safe…” His voice cracked, but he didn’t let go. Reminding himself more than anything. “I am safe with you, Isobel. I know this. I do.”

“Always and forever.” Her kisses followed his shoulder up his neck, pausing when he tensed as she reached his jaw. Afraid to push him too far. “It’s all right. Bad day. I understand.”

Copia clenched his teeth so hard she could feel it. Swallowing like he had a mouthful of broken glass. His breaths coming in staccato bursts. “No… please. Please.” He couldn’t even quite articulate what he was begging for. She didn’t pull away, she never pulled away. She’d stopped because he’d stopped. Because he was tense. Because he was afraid. Because, despite all of the assurances that it would pass, that he’d find himself again, he still felt sick and empty and lost. Even having her there felt like doing something wrong. Like trapping her in this hell with him.

But the thought of letting her go felt so much worse.

It felt like death.

“Please, Izzy… I need you. I want you. I do.”

Her fingers combed through his hair and she wrapped herself around him as if she could keep him safe from the pain and the worry. “You have me, Cope.”

“What if…” his voice caught in his throat. “What if I’m not him any more?”

“You are.” She said stubbornly.

“Why then do I feel like… like an imposter?”

Copia crushed his eyes shut and hiccuped a breath. Holding on to her for dear life. It hurt. Clawing at his throat and making his eyes burn. It hurt until it felt like dying, like drowning, like screaming until his throat bled as the fires consumed him.

“I… I look in the mirror and I don’t see myself.” He struggled, half choking on the words. “There is a stranger there, and he follows me everywhere. Even here. With you. I bring a… a stranger to bed and…” His breath caught again, grabbing the back of his old shirt she wore to bed in his white knuckled grip.

“Breathe, baby.” Izzy whispered. “Breathe.”

The gasp was hard and fast, forcing air into his lungs. Letting it out in ragged choppy bursts. Another and another, fighting to get back to a level of calm that would at least let him speak. Focusing on her fingers in his hair and her warmth pressed against him, her lingering perfume and the steady rise and fall of her chest.

“I bring a stranger to bed… that you don’t ask for. That is forced on you. And… I…. I what? I ask you to pretend there is nothing wrong? I can’t even pretend and I ask you? Not just they steal from me everything I have left… of me… they steal everything of me I already give to you. No more Copia. Only Papa.” He could feel himself rambling, mind screaming, too wound up to stop even if he wanted to. “Papa who makes you nervous. Who makes you stop. Who pushes you away. I don’t want this, Izzy. I don’t. I can’t. I need you. I want you. I miss you. And I don’t know how to get back.”

“I’m so sorry, my love.” It was too much. It all hurt too much. He’d pulled away and fretted so much since he’d been brought home. So much that she’d gotten used to stopping. To feeling him tense and stopping without question. Too afraid of asking and too afraid of hurting him more. Izzy pulled back to look at him in the dim light that kept the dark from swallowing the room completely. Her hands cupping his face even as he tensed. The new face that still looked at her with his eyes and whispered her name with his voice. Kissing the new lips that still met hers with his love and passion. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Izzy kissed him again. His chin and his jaw and nose and all the places that had changed. Kissing away his tears. Until the tension eased and he melted against her.

“Cope, listen to me.” She spoke softly, not letting him go. “I know you. I know you like I know myself. I know the smell and the feel and the sound of the man I love. I know what he loves and what he doesn’t. I know how he sleeps and his routines and his favourites and his pet peeves and his turn-ons and his dreams and all the little things that make him who he is. I know him inside and out because he is my other half in a way I didn’t even think was possible. Because he’s my best friend and my love and my whole world. And I am telling you that you are him. From the first moment we met to right this second. You are Copia. My Copia.”

“You don’t need to get back.” Izzy whispered, trying to keep steady and failing miserably. “I’m right here. Right here. With you. Not Papa. Copia. All you have to do is to be here. With me. Because we have always been better together than apart and I can’t do this without you. I can’t. I can’t, Cope. I need you. I need you and I want you and I miss you.”

She fumbled behind herself until the bedside lamp chased the dark away and Copia squinted back at her against the sudden light. Her hands cupped his cheeks again, kissing him like it was the first time. When they’d both been too desperate to be terrified. She kissed him with all of herself, her body pressing against him tightly, hands wandering over every inch of skin she could reach, breathing and moving and being with him.

His own arms wrapped around her, letting himself stay in the moment. Savouring that feeling of normal, of feeling right, for the first time since it had all started. Found in the one place he should have known to look all along. The one place he should have trusted to be safe. The place he’d always been most at home and loved and protected. That he’d set so far out of reach in his mind it started to feel like it had never really been his place at all.

With her.

The truth hit him like a train, knocking the air from his lungs and every thought from his head. Leaning into her kiss fully, unreservedly. Burying his hands in her hair and clinging to her. His. She was his. In the same way he was hers. Even the shattered mess of pieces he’d become, they were hers, starting to come together in her hands. Back into a shape he could recognise as… maybe not the man he was… but the man he could be. One tiny piece at a time.

“I’m here.” It came out as a raspy whisper, forced past the fear and the hurt, and his throat felt raw with it. But, Dark Lord help him, he’d die if he didn’t say it.

How could two words carry so much weight? Izzy sobbed, a sound ripped from her very soul. Shaking her entirely. Like a break in the storm that had consumed them, the reprieve that she’d started to fear wasn’t coming. Finding his hand in a never ending darkness and knowing there was still some hope left.

The sound cut like a knife. How long had he been so lost in his own head to even realise that the person he loved most, who’d been desperately trying to keep him from crumbling completely, was falling apart right next to him? How long had he left her abandoned to deal with it all alone? Copia sat up, pulling her along with him. He leaned back against the headboard, collecting Izzy against his chest, wrapping his arms around her protectively. Letting her catch her breath.

“Cope…” She finally pulled back a little to look at him, cupping his face in her hands again. Begging with every ounce of herself. Weeks of fear and hurt and worry and panic all breaking loose at once. “Please… please, don’t leave.”

“I’m here.” He said with more conviction. “I’m here, Izzy.”

Copia gave her arm a gentle tug. A simple gesture he’d made a thousand times before. The silent way they’d spoken for years. A nudge or a touch, fingers brushing his hand or her foot bumping softly against his. And she moved without thinking, like she always did. Hearing him when he couldn’t find the words. Shifting to sit in his lap, staring back at him without the hesitation or discomfort he was sure he’d see in her eyes. Just Isobel. Looking at him like she always had. Like he was the only person in the whole world.

Izzy watched him closely. Searching for all the little things she’d learned to read in his expression. Trying to shove down the fear that those were gone too because they didn’t fit the image. But she knew that look in his eye. That small crease between his brows. She knew them like she knew his hand on her arm and the subtle way he’d moved to make space for her. The things they couldn’t steal from her. The Copia they couldn’t bury. Tracing the new lines of his face with her fingertips, relearning pathways she could have followed blindfolded.

“Cope…”

His hand drifted down to her hip, resting on her warm skin. It felt like a lifetime since he’d touched her. Since he’d felt like he could. The way she looked at him fanned a spark that had dimmed to near dying, and Copia leaned in to kiss her again. Needing it like air. Needing her. Sliding his hand up her back, pushing the fabric out of the way, even that thin barrier feeling like too much distance.

She didn’t need to think, didn’t want to think, grabbing his old shirt and pulling it over her head. Tossing it away and not much interested in where as long as it wasn’t between him and herself. Curling her fingers through his chest hair, she pressed back up against him. Moaning against his lips, need overtaking caution.

“Tell me you want this, Isobel.” Copia whispered. So close his lips brushed against hers. Some stupid, stubborn part of him still bracing for hesitation, the panicked urge to turn out the light and hide again rising like a wave set on crushing him.

She felt him tense, that fear she’d come to know so well. That she’d gotten accustomed to stopping for. Because it felt like the right thing to do. The thing she was supposed to do. For him. To keep him safe. To protect him when the guilt kept screaming at her that she hadn’t been there to protect him when he needed it most. And all at once she knew, deep down, with a certainty that threatened to break her, that she’d been wrong.

The distance wasn’t helping. The uncertainty and the stopping and the desperate attempts to keep him safe had been keeping him at arm's length. All of her efforts to protect him had been hurting them both. He didn’t need that. What he needed was…

Izzy claimed his mouth deeply. Pulling him close and breathing him in. Pouring out every ounce of want and need and longing and passion she’d kept locked away out of fear. They’d promised, right from the start. No more secrets. No more holding back. She’d been the one to forget and the thought of breaking those promises for one second longer was unacceptable.

“I need this.” She said earnestly. “I need you, Copia. Please don’t make me beg.”

He wouldn’t have, couldn’t have. Before the words were even fully formed, his hands and his mouth were already on her. One taste of her wasn’t enough, it was never enough. A parched man wandering the desert and stumbling into an oasis, one sip wouldn’t quench the thirst. He would drink it dry if no one tried to stop him. Finding every spot he knew would drag a moan from her, that had her nails biting into his back and her hips rolling against his begging for more. The spots that were for them, not Papa. That he needed to reclaim with an urgency he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so strongly before.

When her hand slipped between them, fingers finding him straining against his boxers, Copia’s breath caught in his throat. His face buried in her cleavage, moaning deeply. Letting her go only to awkwardly try to escape his single piece of clothing, kicking them off onto the floor.

Izzy couldn’t help it, giggling while he fought with his underpants. She caught his chin and lifted his gaze to meet hers. Her smile softening into something much more loving and content. “There’s my Copia.”

A pink blush rose on his cheeks and he smiled back at her in much the same way. That tiny bit of a tease, the first tentative steps back into normalcy. The tension in his shoulders loosened and his arms wrapped around her, grabbing a cheek in each hand. His eyes never left hers, leaning in close, lips latching on to on perfect pink nipple.

Her head lolled back with a breathy moan that turned into a laugh. “Definitely my Copia.”

In retaliation, he caught her nipple between his teeth. Making her squeak and look back down at him, with that mischievous look in his eye she knew all too well. Her heart sang, beating against her ribs like it meant to make an escape. Perhaps, she thought, trying to get back to its rightful owner.

His own heart sang with hers. That smile that was only for him, the way it crinkled the corners of her eyes in a way it never did for anyone else. Her easy laugh that he hadn’t heard in weeks. Her eyes locked on him, not forced or timid. Looking and seeing and staying there. Hope blooming again, for the first time since he’d been brought home.

“I want you, Isobel… I need you.”

Izzy’s hips lifted, still watching him, completely enthralled. Gasping when he reached down to guide himself into place, his need pressing against her entrance. Sinking down onto him slowly, she let out a long, breathy moan. Copia echoing the sound. Settled against his hips, thanking the dark lord for him, and revelling in the delicious stretch of being filled. Realising just how much she’d needed him.

They both took a moment to adjust. Close in a way they’d been missing and focused on each other. Her fingers ran through his chest hair, up to his neck. Her thumb rubbed along his jaw. Relearning the feel of it, of him.

“I missed you.” She whispered, pressing her forehead to his. “I missed you so much it hurt.”

It took every ounce of willpower not to cry. Not to grab on to her and sob himself sick. All the certainty that it was lost forever, or that who they’d been together was forever tainted, burning away in the light of the truth.

“I’ve got you, Cope.” Her lips brushed his. “I’ve got you.”

Her hips lifted and dropped back down in one fluid motion, Copia’s hands guiding her as much as he dared. Every thrust eroding that anxiety. By the seventh stroke, he gripped her hips tightly, taking control. Watching as she gave it up, eagerly, willingly. Following the movements of his hands and every bit of pressure urging her on. Marvelling at every sound she made, the heat of her eveloping him. Staring at her as she let herself go for him, never once looking away from his face. His name was on her lips and he snapped back up against her, moaning as loudly as she was. Finding more and more pieces of himself and clinging to them desperately.

A stream of Italian curses and prayers she’d heard before. Her own wordless cries, hands gripping his hair. Her mouth claimed his again. Deep and passionate and unrepentantly needy. Not able to get enough. She could feel him getting close, as close as she was. His fingers biting into her hips and threatening to leave marks that would last days. And all she wanted was more.

“Don’t stop…” She begged breathlessly. “Please…”

The word barely made it past her lips when her breath caught in her throat and she gripped him tightly. Diving headlong over the cliff. Copia watching, following, as she came completely undone around him. Until he couldn’t hold on any more, cock kicking hard inside her, filling her until he could feel his own seed and her slick dripping onto the bedding.

Together, they both flopped over. A tangled heap of limbs and gasping breaths and the shuddered, quiet moans of each aftershock gripping him again and again. Izzy’s leg hooking over his hip, keeping him close. Not that he had any intention of moving. The world could burn for all he cared, as long as he could stay there. Locked together with her.

Copia combed his fingers through her hair and kissed her softly, smiling against her lips. Even as he could feel the lump in his throat growing. “Sono inutile senza di te, Isobel. Senza speranza e perso. So di esserlo. Perché ho provato a vivere senza di te, per anni. Decenni. Ed ero infelice.” He whispered, before his voice failed him entirely. “Come ho potuto dimenticare che la mia casa faro era sempre qui?”

“I kept thinking that… that if I dimmed the lights, I could protect you.” She tried to hold his gaze, but her face crumpled all at once.

He caught her in a kiss before she could get any further. Keeping his voice soft and staying as close as he could get. “Nobody knows what we are doing right now, si? Is all a mess. Me, especially. Thinking…” He shook his head and sighed. “Stupid things. Thinking stupid stings. Just… just promise you stay with me, Isobel.”

She managed a smile, nudging her nose against his. “Satan himself couldn’t drag me away.”

Izzy shifted a little, reaching behind her to turn off the lamp. To let the dark settle back into place. Not the oppressive, hateful dark. But the quiet peace of their bed. Copia’s hand caught hers midway there, gently pulling it back.

“Not yet.” He whispered, stealing another kiss.

“Right now… I want to see you.”

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“Sono inutile senza di te, Isobel. Senza speranza e perso. So di esserlo. Perché ho provato a vivere senza di te, per anni. Decenni. Ed ero infelice.” = I'm useless without you, Isobel. Hopeless and lost. I know I am. Because I tried living without you, for years. Decades. And I was miserable.

“Come ho potuto dimenticare che la mia casa faro era sempre qui?” = How could I have forgotten that my beacon home was always right here?

#ghost fanfic #copia x oc #MDNI

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