Thermopylae ~ Aftermath // Consign to thee and come to dust...

[x-dazzler.livejournal.com]

On the way back home... not everything is done yet, and there is still news to impart.

Fear no more the heat o' the sun
Nor the furious winters' rages;
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee and come to dust.
  ~ Loreena McKennit, Cymbeline

~*~

Plane. She was on a plane. All the noises fit, and the smells, and Anika whimpered, tugging against whatever was holding her flat. Taking her back to Mistra? she thought dazedly, and struggled a little harder, a choked moan slipping out at how much it hurt to move.

"You're on the 'bird and we're heading back home," Alison murmured, as soon as she saw motion and heard sound. Hank and Madelyn were both busy working over Nathan, who had taken a turn for the worse, it seemed. "They had to restrain you so you wouldn't hurt yourself further, Ani." It was the first time she used the diminutive of Anika's name. Curled up close, Alison sighed softly, exhaustion curling within bone deep, and tried to stay as close as possible, knowing physical contact was important to the feral.

Bird? Home? The words didn't make any sense. And she knew that voice, knew that scent, but there were dead leaves everywhere, dead leaves and ashes, too, and even as the pieces started to come together, she tried to find another scent, the one that had to be there, and...

It would have been a scream, what came out, if her throat had healed enough to allow it. She strained against the straps holding her down, her eyes burning with tears. No, it's not, it's not real, I'm hurt and I'm not smelling it right, I'm dreaming, it's not real, I'll wake up...

That Anika would know within moments of waking up was inevitable. From the blood still on Alison's leathers to the body on the far side of the cargo, there was simply no chance to try and even conceal what had happened from her, even out of mercy. So she moved closer despite the woman's injuries, despite what her own scent was likely telling her and held Anika as best she could manage.

Closer, and that was Mick's blood, she could smell it... small, choked noises that would have been sobs, if they'd been a little louder, escaped her. The familiar scene was almost overwhelming, but she could smell another, too, another that wasn't right, and if she hadn't already been broken by the first, it would have finished the job.

The motion was slow, almost as though made in a dream. A brief, low flare of light and Anika's arm was free, the thought of keeping her restrained now of all times more than Alison could bear. "He didn't..." Her voice nearly broke, but somehow Alison continued, after taking a ragged breath. "He didn't die alone, Ani." Hold on. Please, hold on. "He said to tell you-" and stopped there, refusing to use the past tense for this, "he said 'tell Anika I love her'." The last words were forced out, somehow, in a trembling voice.

"... not fair..." Anika wasn't sure how she was managing to choke out the words, and her voice definitely did not sound right at all. She couldn't see anything properly through her tears, just a black blur with golden hair, leaning over her. "... not fair, not enough time..."

The very same words had echoed through Alison's mind, seconds before the shield she had been holding up had gone down, even as she spoke to Haroun for what she had thought would be the last time. "I know." She leaned in closer, cheek pressing to Anika's lightly, as though she might be able to shield her from everything, somehow. "I know."

There wasn't even any anger. There should be, shouldn't there? All the rage she had in her, all for Mistra. They'd done it again, taken everything away... but she could smell Nathan, still alive. That was something, wasn't it? Maybe there were others. Maybe she wasn't alone. Maybe...

... oh, Mick...

Crying softly, she leaned as close to Alison as she could. It hurt to move, but she needed the contact, needed to hold onto something besides the pain and the sudden echoing emptiness.