Sixpencepastry
He should have known.
It's a hairline fracture that almost undoes him, one poor landing in the middle of a fight crackling with power and peppered with bullets. He's got a mouthful of idiot when one of heir foes goes all Jedi master on them and flings her across the foyer. Out the corner of his eye, Glen sees her land heavily on the cold marble floor, smacking into it on her side with a broken shout that sends chills down his spine. He shouts out a quick "You okay?", before rounding on the dickwad who thought it was a good idea to go around tossing people. He thinks, as his jaws clamp down on the man's shoulder with the ever satisfying crunch of shattering bones, that he heard her grunt out an affirmative. He thinks she's only winded, he gets so caught up in the screams of the mooks and the sound of bullets and his great, flaring wings-- the once dazzling room now a mess of blood, feathers and broken furniture-- that he doesn't hear the damp sounds she makes as she struggles to breathe, not until the final man falls limply from his blood soaked jaws.
He dashes over to her prone form, hooves scrabbling and sliding on the blood-slicked floor. When he reaches her, there's bright red blood frothing from the corners of her mouth and she's barely breathing, more or less drowning. When she notices him, her mouth twitches out of its pained grimace and into something that could be called a smile, but is too sad to feel like one, and she moves a hand towards the left of her chest. Getting the message, he starts to get to work, rolling her onto her uninjured side and manoeuvring her into the recovery position, apologising to her when she hissed or groaned from the pain.
He should have seen this coming, he should have known. He'd seen her take some heavy hits, but he hadn't thought anything of it, and now she was paying for it.
He could only watch as she fumbled with her phone, hating his lack of hands more than ever, waiting to talk for her as soon as she punched in the number for the ambulance.
She remembers when it was just her against the world, her leather-clad feet kicking up dust as she ran down the old dirt road to pastures new. When it was just her, the heat and the susurrus of a thousand insects chirping in the trees and the short, bristle-like grass that carpeted the wide, open plain.
Then she somehow found herself with a tag-along; a lanky creature with acid-green eyes and vast feathered wings, who talked too much and sang too loud. They went from barely knowing each other to the closest of friends in only a handful of days, with their own little jokes and an unspoken understanding, fitting together like they were pieces of the same puzzle that simply hadn't known there had been pieces missing.
They made each other feel light and airy, like the world had been reduced to one long, summer evening where nothing mattered and everything was easy. They kept each other grounded when it felt like there was nothing there to stand on, pulled each other up when it all became too much and it felt like they were drowning. Together, they were something that was more or less inseparable and almost unstoppable.
She remembers when it was just her against the world, her leather-clad feet kicking up dust as she ran down the old dirt road to pastures new. When it was just her, the heat and the susurrus of a thousand insects chirping in the trees and the short, bristle-like grass that carpeted the wide, open plain.
Then she somehow found herself with a tag-along; a lanky creature with acid-green eyes and vast feathery wings, who talked too much and sang too loud. They went from barely knowing each other to the closest of friends in only a handful of days, with their own little jokes and an unspoken understanding, fitting together like they were pieces of the same puzzle that simply hadn't known there had been pieces missing.
They made each other feel light and airy, like the world had been reduced to one long, summer evening where nothing mattered and everything was easy. They kept each other grounded when it felt like there was nothing there to stand on, pulled each other up when it all became too much and it felt like they were drowning. Together, they were a team that was more or less inseparable and almost unstoppable.
She remembers when it was just her against the world, her leather-clad feet kicking up dust as she ran down the old dirt road to pastures new. When it was just her, the heat and the susurrus of a thousand insects chirping in the trees and the short, bristle-like grass that carpeted the wide, open plain.
Then she somehow found herself with a tag-along; a lanky creature with acid-green eyes and vast feathery wings, who talked too much and sang too loud. They went from barely knowing each other to the closest of friends in only a handful of days, with their own little jokes and an unspoken understanding, fitting together like they were pieces of the same puzzle that simply hadn't known there had been pieces missing.
They made each other feel light and airy, like the world had been reduced to one long, summer evening where nothing mattered and everything was easy. They kept each other grounded when it felt like there was nothing there to stand on, pulled each other up when it all became too much and it felt like they were drowning. Together, they were a team that was more or less inseparable and almost unstoppable.
The creature and the girl, the best of friends.
She remembers when it was just her against the world, her leather-clad feet kicking up dust as she ran down the old dirt road to pastures new. When it was just her, the heat and the susurrus of a thousand insects chirping in the trees and short, bristle-like grass turned golden from the drought.
Then, somehow she found herself with a tag-along; a lanky creature with acid-green eyes and vast feathery wings, who talked too much and sang too loud, but also shaded her from the harshness of the sun and always urged her to keep on moving forwards.
They traveled together for a long time, visiting many places and trying many things. It came as no surprise when they started picking up strays, her friend a magnet for oddities and trouble. Many came and went, but there were some who stayed; a boy who'd had enough, a man made of metal who'd read more books than he'd lived days, a pair of twins who were excellent craftsmen, and a woman colder and more twisted than anyone ever ought to be. They were an awkward group and there were often fights, but they never lasted for long, forgiveness coming easy between them all. They were the family she'd never intended to have, never thought to have, brought together by chance, and she wouldn't dream of having it any other way.
His eyes slip shut and his ever-present smile thins. The breeze tugs at his blond curls and chills his face; the rest of his body warm, tucked away from the outside world by a cocoon of mismatched fabric. The air is crisp and the leaves are dying, turned that splotchy scarlet of almost-fallen. There's no one else here. He isn't sure if that makes him feel better or worse.
He looks down at the final reminder of his greatest friend, a gloved hand reaching out to brush against the rough stone. Something in his throat goes heavy and sore when the iron gate behind him creaks. He withdraws his hand, turning to leave, and he can't help the dry, broken sound that crawls its way out of his throat, or the way that his shoulders shake under the sudden weight of loneliness and grief as he shuffles his way towards the cemetery's exit.
The sunlight dapples the carpet with yellowish flecks, pieces of it caught on the leaves of the ratty shrub outside the window. The two of them lounge in what are quickly becoming 'their' spots; one lying on the couch, book in hand but barely acknowledged, the other perched on the couch's arm, chewing absently on one of the pink, layered biscuits that had been placed on the chipped coffee table next to their mugs of steaming tea.
The light is blue and their shadows are long, stretching across the cracked pavement of the town square, almost touching the edge of the ornate fountain at its center. There's a hush enveloping them as they stand in the glare of the bright blue light, their hands twisted together in something that's not so much fear, but more reassurance. Distantly, they can hear the sound of the world crumbling around them, but it's okay, really. They'll be fine, they always are.
The light flares, no longer blue, but a burning white. It eats away their shadows and in an instant, there's nothing left to see at all.
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