Young Writers Society

After a few hours, she needed to relieve herself. This was an unfortunate downside to having water in her system again.

She got up quietly, listening to Tiberius sleep for a moment where she stood before she finally wandered off a short distance away. While ultimately she deserved to get her ass made fun of for how she harassed Tiberius the other day, she still slid into the shadows of the trees to hide, just in case he truly wasn’t asleep.

Tori had grown to appreciate his company. Granted she had been stuck tending to his wounds, and the brand on his back was a bit stomach turning, but that wasn’t too big of a deal in the long run. She wasn’t sure where she’d be right now if she hadn’t pulled this rescue mission.

She refastened her pants and belt once finished.

Something about that piss felt poetic to her. Like it truly meant something. Gisa had told her once before to always value the small things in life, no matter the size or cost. Maybe that included bathroom breaks, like Tiberius had said before.

She willed her mind into submission. Tiberius had to have pushed her beyond the brink of insanity. It was either that or the crippling exhaustion of his was contagious. If she were to mention this to him jokingly, she suspected that he would start apologizing as if it was contagious. She simply kept these jokes to herself, occasionally cracking a smile when she came up with them.

There she stood, deep in thought, staring into the darkness of the trees. The moon had finally disappeared tonight, so it was especially hard to make anything out.

Even though she’d been given more than enough time to sleep while Tiberius was on watch, she always found herself awake anyway. If only they could travel further in a day, she wouldn’t feel this way. Something deep in her gut kept telling her that the bounty hunters were close behind, barely out of sight. While she trusted him more than enough to sleep on his watch, the anxiety in her couldn’t bear to do so.

So she’d stay awake.

Waiting.

Listening.

As she turned to leave the cover of the trees, her head knocked forward, her mind going dark.

----

Her body hung heavy and limp as she regained her consciousness.

The back of her head was throbbing. She’d been hit from behind, and hard. How long had she been out? She tried to breathe, but her mouth was stuffed full of fabric, forcing air through her nose instead.

Reality began to sink in.

Her eyes peeked open, checking the area. With how dark it was, it was hard to tell. Thankfully she made out the trees and realized she was still in the vicinity of the lake. She must’ve only just been knocked out.

As her sense of feeling returned, she realized that she was slung over someone’s shoulders. Her right arm was crossed over their chest and held tightly near her knees while her left arm hung freely off their back. Her hand bumped into metal, her fingers feeling around it. A shotgun barrel. She let her fingertips brush lightly across the leather coat beneath the gun, still feigning unconsciousness.

Taking care to not announce the fact that she was awake, her free hand ever so silently lifted toward the back of her belt. It felt like her knife was still attached under her shirt.

That didn’t make sense.

As the person briskly walked, she could sense that they were trying to avoid making noise. Whoever this was, they had to know Tiberius was with her and still within earshot. There was no other explanation. Otherwise her knife would have been gone by now, and she’d be bound at the limbs instead of gagged. It was too risky to do otherwise.

If she could manage to make enough noise, Tiberius was guaranteed to wake based on their few days together. It was doubtful she was going to get the gag off in time to yell, so she’d try to get her kidnapper where it hurt, so they could yell for her.

She steeled herself for the impending scuffle, allowing her hand to close around the hilt of her knife. If this was Alabaster as she suspected, she shouldn’t have a problem getting him to talk.

The tip of her knife hit metal near his waist, slipping past on a detour and sinking into his side. It wasn’t a perfect hit, but a pained snarl hit her ears, which meant it had done something. She’d have to try again, because he hadn’t yelped loud enough.

She raised her arm to strike, but was cut short as she was thrown hard into a nearby tree, a hollow thump sounding out when her back connected. Her chest began to seize up as she narrowly got to her feet, knife still in hand.

Alabaster was already on top of her, attempting to wrestle the knife out of her grip. They fought hard for a moment, straining against each other before he managed to sink a heavy fist into her gut, dropping her to her knees with a groan. The knife fell from her grip. She couldn’t move.

He huffed quietly, lifting her by an arm and facing her forward, then pulling her into a chokehold. “You’re going to come along quiet,” he hissed into her ear. Hot tobacco breath met her nostrils. While she enjoyed chewing tobacco of her own accord, Alabaster’s breath was awful. She nearly gagged.

“We’ll have a little fun together on our way back,” he whispered. “I’ll get paid an’ then you’ll never have to deal with me again. Now sleep,” he growled, pinching her neck tighter.

She swung a leg back to hook it around his ankle, then bent forward and to the side with all of the strength she could muster in an attempt to knock him off balance. Alabaster stumbled into the nearby tree, still holding her tight. Next came an elbow to his side while he was distracted. She took a deep breath in, then hit again. Alabaster tensed. With the third, something gave way underneath, likely a rib. He cried through his teeth, piercing the silence of the night.

She fell limp moments later.

James's eyes shot open.

There was thump. A faint groan. The sound of shuffling.

Immediately, James was aware that Tori was missing. Elliot was close behind him - he could hear his steady breaths - but James couldn't sense Tori's presence nearby, nor could he see her shadow in the dark. Moving slowly, with small, quiet movements, James began to pull out one of the syringes in his pocket.

The shuffling sounds continued, and he could hear deliberate, careful footfalls, unable to hide the weight they bore.

James slowly pulled the cover off the needle and reached across to his better arm, feeling for a vein.

A cry, barely audible. A thump, of a body, hitting the ground. Feet shuffling on the forest floor. A gasp. Another stifled cry of pain, louder this time.

It sounded like a man.

James inserted the needle and emptied the contents of the syringe, feeling it briefly burn in his veins before it coursed through him, invasive, and cold.

It took mere seconds for him to feel the rush.

Tossing the syringe to the side, James silently got to his feet and began to weave his way through the forest towards the source of the noise.

The forest was dark. On a normal night, he could hardly see a thing, but with the moon barely a sliver in the night sky and half of the stars shrouded by clouds, the shadows of the trees made it almost impossible to make anything out. James had to move slowly as to not draw attention to himself and to keep the cover he had, but he knew he had to hurry.

Whomever this was, they'd singled Tori out first.

That meant they either came for her or targeted her to draw him out. Which meant it was Reed, or it was the man who she'd mentioned only briefly.

Fortunately, it seemed that Tori and her captor hadn't gotten far.

The pain in James's body was miraculously dulled - so much so he hardly even noticed it over the rush of adrenaline he felt, making his heart pound. Though he'd woken up groggy, now he felt wide awake, and his senses were sharpened as he paused behind a tree and leaned around, able to hear the labored breathing of a man nearby.

Glancing around the corner, James's eyes finally began to focus, sharpening just enough of the area around him to make out the shadow of a man, and the shape of a broad hat atop his head. He was leaned over who James could only assume to be Tori, prone on the ground, and from the man's movements, James deduced he was tying her up.

James only had one weapon.

He pulled out his dagger, using the soft of his hand to silence the sound as he pulled it from its leather sheath at his side.

The man was turned away from him. If the sound he heard earlier was any indication, it was likely this man was already wounded.

This was his chance.

James stepped out on silent feet and then, when he was close, rushed forward, dagger in hand.

The man spun, an arm flying up to block James's swing.

The dagger sliced through his coat, connecting with skin, and as James leaned into the flow of the movement, it ripped through the greater portion of the man's forearm, sending blood splattering onto James's hand as he pulled the dagger out.

What happened next went quickly.

James flipped his dagger in his hand so it faced upward, and he swung it forward, angled up at the man's gut.

He barely missed, and James could feel the dagger catch on the man's coat, but it failed to connect. With another rush of energy, James raised the dagger and plunged it into the man's shoulder, seeing that at the end of that arm, the man was holding a knife.

The dagger connected with bone.

Retaliating, the man sliced at James's side, but it didn't phase him. James ripped the dagger through the man's flesh and pulled it out with a low growl. He heard the man's knife clatter to the ground as his arm was rendered useless, and muscles were severed.

The man, stunned for a moment, stood still.

Taking the opportunity, James curled his fist and sent it upwards with a powerful jab.

His knuckles clapped against the man's jaw, and the man's teeth snapped together with a loud clack. The man's head was thrown back at the force, and his wide-brimmed hat popped off his head to the ground.

In the faint light of night, James could see the shine of sweat on the man's brow.

The man stumbled back a few steps, but didn't fall.

“Bloody little shit,” the man snarled through his teeth. “And here I thought you wouldn’t show,” he began to laugh to himself, clearly fighting the pain.

Snarling, James rushed forward while the man's defenses were still down.

He reached out his arms and hit the man's body at full force, slamming him to the ground.

The man grunted beneath him as James landed on top of him, and James pinned down the man's arms, not wanting another stab from somewhere he couldn't see.

The man fell still, as if he were harmless.

“You know,” the man began, his head tilted to the side, seemingly in thought. “I really am a bit surprised, Hemming. I’d never pinned you as the type to gallivant around with old doves like Miss Toriko.” He sounded amused. “Be careful,” he whispered, lifting his head to draw close to his face. “She plays rough.”

He spat in James’s face.

Anger boiled to the surface, unfiltered. James's lip curled up in contemptuous disgust as he saw red, and rage brought his hands around the man's throat, cutting off his ability to say anything more.

Gripping at tight as he could, James dug his fingers into the man's skin.

Momentary silence.

A chilling sensation drew near to James’s temple, a sharp click sounding out in the dead of night.

Instinct took over.

James violently spun his head to the side as the gunshot blast exploded by his ear. Pain split through the side of his head, dulled, and pulsing as his ear began to ring loudly. Blood gushed down the side of his face, down his neck - hot and wet.

Deaf to any noise but the high-pitched toll reverberating in his skull, James acted faster than he could think, feeling the panicked race for survival moving him forward.

He grabbed the man's hand. With a pop of his other fist against the man's grip, he ripped the gun out of his grasp, and as he slipped his fingers around the trigger, he felt for the hammer, unable to hear is click as he reloaded, and pressed the barrel up against the man's forehead.

For a split second, James caught sight of the man's widened eyes, staring up at him. Challenging.

James pulled the trigger.

The gunshot must've rang out into the forest, but James still couldn't hear it. Instead, he felt the splatter of blood that followed, and found himself staring into the man's now lifeless eyes, glossed over and vacant.

For just a moment, the vision of the man's face began to spin. But James sat up, remembering he wasn't the only one out in the forest.

Tori. He had to make sure Tori was okay.

Still a little dazed, James got to his feet, still feeling the blood from his ear drip down onto his neck and shoulder. His ears were still ringing, but the pitch was slowly starting to fade.

He spotted Tori on the ground, curled up on her side. As he approached, he could tell that her hands had been tied behind her back, and he slowly knelt behind her.

"Hey, Tori," he said, barely able to hear his own voice as the ringing still persisted. "It's me, James. I'm going to cut off the ropes around your hands, okay?"

From behind, he could see her nod her head, just enough to make out.

"Okay," he said calmly, the ringing fading a little more. "Tell me if I nick you on accident. It's dark out here."

As he felt for her hands, he could feel her body trembling with fear. His heart twisted in anger, pained on her behalf as he pulled out his dagger and carefully filed away at the ropes around her wrists. It took a moment before he felt the last thread snap, and then he pulled them away.

"There you go," he said, stepping over her to see her face to face.

He knelt down again, unable to make out much of her expression, but he could see something was tied around her mouth.

A gag.

"Ah," he said softly, kneeling beside her. "I'm going to cut the gag. I'll reach around your head to do so."

Doing just as he said, he gently slid the dagger under the fabric and sliced it with one small tug, and then he pulled it away, careful as he took it out of her mouth.

Tossing it to the side, he sheathed his dagger again, and he looked Tori over, checking if there were any pressing injuries or if she was otherwise bound. It was too dark to make out much, but it seemed like the rope and the gag were the last of it.

Leaning down beside her, he waited a moment, feeling the weight of Tori's silence.

"Okay," James said gently. "I'm going to help you up now. Are you hurt?"

"No," she whispered.

"Alright," James said, still not raising his voice more than just above a whisper. "Here. Take my hand."

He got to his knees and offered it to her, waiting for her to close the gap.

After a pause, she firmly took his hand. He pulled her up steadily, and then let go once she was on her feet. She was still trembling, but he had a feeling she didn't want to be touched right now.

"He's gone," James assured her. "You don't have to worry about him. We need to focus on getting out of here, now, okay?"

"Ok," she said hoarsely, whispering something inaudible afterward.

"Can you walk?" James asked.

"Yeah," she responded, a little quicker this time.

"Alright," James said. "Let's get to Elliot. Follow me."

Setting the pace, James hurried back to Elliot, making sure Tori was keeping up. She was close behind, not straying.

When he saw Elliot again in the shadows, Elliot saw standing at the ready. James hurried up to him and stroked the side of his face, assuring him things were going to be alright. When Tori came up alongside him, he turned slowly to face her.

"Stay with Elliot," he said. "I'm going to check the body. I'll be back in a moment."

Tori made a shooing motion for him to go. He turned and hurried, nearly running, with a skip in his step when his injured leg protested.

He retraced his steps, finding himself back at the feet of the man he'd killed, and pushing aside the worries for the future, he knelt down and began to search the body, digging through the man's coat pockets and looking for weapons.

There was a small satchel over the man's shoulders, and James peeled it away, tossing the various knives and guns he found into it. The only ones that wouldn't fit were the belt of bullets across the man's chest and the rifle slung over his back.

He slipped those off, hanging them in the crook of his arm.

In one of the man's pockets, James felt a wad of folded up pieces of paper. Though he couldn't make out what was on them in the pitch black of night, he pocketed them away to look at later in hopes that they might be something useful. He didn't have the time to figure that out now.

Getting up, James hurried back to Tori, finding her silhouette beside Elliot.

She's hardly moved since he left her, aside from drawing closer to his horse.

He held out the rifle towards her.

"Take these," he said, offering her the belt of bullets as well.

Tori took them with little hesitation, slinging the belt over her shoulder.

"Thank you," she choked out, her voice still raspy.

"Of course. Now let's get moving," he said. "Hop on Elliot. I'm going to tie this to the saddle."

Walking around, he took the satchel off and tied it tightly next to the rest of the packs so it wouldn't be lost. After double-checking to make sure it was secure, he looked over at Tori, who had yet to move.

"Tori," he said, a little more firmly. "We need to go. Get on."

Tori still hesitated. In the distance, James could hear the howl of a hound dog ring out into the night. Two other howls followed in a dissonant harmony.

James stared off towards the noise with wide eyes, and then turned to Tori with greater intensity.

"Get on. Now," he said, louder, and more insistent.

"Shit," she sputtered under her breath, climbing atop Elliot, seating herself.

James didn't wait to explain, because he knew she'd object.

They weren't going to make it if Elliot was carrying both of them. He wouldn't be able to run fast enough.

Winding up his arm, he slapped Elliot's side.

"Go!" he ordered.

And, without hesitation, Elliot obeyed, and started forward through the forest. Tori's choice words of protest faded into the trees along with Elliot.

The ringing in James's ears finally stopped, and it was then that the nearness of the dog's howls finally registered. Feeling another rush of adrenaline course through him, he turned and immediately began to scale the nearest tree, reaching up around the trunk until he made it to the branches, where he perched, hidden in the cover of the leaves.

"Hyah!" he heard up ahead, and he knew it was reed's voice, echoeing through the night.

The pounding of hooves whizzed past him, following the direction of Elliot, and James's heart dropped into his stomach.

No.

But he hardly had time to think about the possible fate to befall Tori when a different set of horse hooves came stomping his direction, heavier, and slowing. Before he could see it, he already knew it was Butch, and when he emerged into the faint moonlight, James's heart stopped beating altogether.

The giant of a man stood tall atop his massive steed, and the horse's white coat shone in the light that trickled through the trees, casting Butch into shadow in comparison.

James's mind began to race as Butch slowly rode closer. If Butch stayed on course, he was about to pass under the tree James was in.

That would be James's only opportunity to catch him by surprise. He didn't have time to think it through.

He didn't want to risk missing with the gun.

He'd have to get close.

Holding his breath, he pulled out his dagger again, and he waited.

Closer. Closer.

Butch was right beneath him.

James leaped down, crashing onto Butch's shoulders, and his knees collided with the man's head. It sent a sharp pain down James's leg, but he threw his legs around the man's chest and he leaned forward, violently wrangling Butch's head in his arm as he slashed at the man's neck with all of his strength.

Butch opened his mouth with a sickening sputter, and blood began to sputter out from his neck.

James had hit an artery.

Going in to slice again, James was met with resistance as Butch grabbed both of his wrists, tight in the man's giant, meaty fists, and Butch threw him to the ground.

James let out a pained groan as his back hit the tree behind him with a crack, and he slumped at its base. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself back up, but only just got his bearings in time to hear Butch gurgle in front of him, axe raised overhead.

Eyes wide, James darted to the side, just escaping the heavy thunk of the axe into the ground.

As he ran, he sliced at the back of Butch's knee, but wasn't able to cut deep enough to sever the hamstring.

Spinning around, Butch hacked at James again, wildly, weilding both axes this time. James ducked and dodged, dancing to the side until he was flat against the nearest tree and had to slide to the forest floor to avoid the blade coming for his neck.

Not interested in the bounty anymore, it seemed. Fair enough. James had tried to kill him, and Butch seemed the vengeful sort.

The only problem was, James couldn't keep this dancing act up forever, and so long as Butch was waving his axes wildly, James wouldn't be able to get another close hit to end it.

Butch was massive, and unless James could wait it out until Butch bled out, they were going to be here for a while.

Unless... James could speed up the process.

James ran under the horse - aware of the danger, but risked it anyway - and for just a moment, was out of Butch's sight. From all of James's travels with Butch, he'd learned exactly where Butch kept all of his things - at least, that which was in sight.

James grabbed the rope of the saddle, hurriedly looping it in his hands, creating a noose like it was second-nature.

As he did so, he darted through the trees, trying to gain distance again. He could hear Butch's footsteps thumping through the forest behind him, making the earth tremble with every step.

But James had just enough leeway to leap up and grab the branch of a tree above him.

Swinging, James let his body fly up, letting the momentum of his run carry him as his hands scraped around the branch. Butch had paused just a few feet behind him, but that was perfect.

Steadying himself up in the tree, James turned just in time to see an axe flying at him. Dodging, the axe lodged in to the trunk, and James took the leap, flying at Butch once again.

The noose flew forward in his hands, and he could see Butch winding up to slash at James again. But James was moving faster than Butch's blade, and he made contact first, grappling Butch's shoulders again. This time, they were face to face as James shoved the noose over Butch's head and then yanked, grabbing the rope with both hands as he fell with it towards the ground.

Butch stumbled forward, swinging his axe again, but he missed. James swung to the opposite side, aloft as Butch remained standing for a moment, and the blood gushing from his neck started to spurt.

The axe fell to the ground, and Butch began to sway.

Finally landing on his feet, James ran ahead with the rope, pulling Butch forward just enough to help him fall face-first into the ground.

James knew that he could stay and make sure Butch was dead. But instead, he dashed for Butch's horse and jumped into the saddle.

Butch was indisposed for the time being, and hopefully, bleeding out.

Now, James needed to find Tori.

Taking the horse's reins, James leaned back into the saddle, tucking his legs into the horse's sides.

"Hyah!"

Elliot pressed on, hooves pounding in the soil as they flew past the trees, leaving Tiberius behind.

What was he thinking?

Before Tori let her anger and shock get the best of her, she forced herself to think.

She knew that Tiberius couldn’t handle the two bounty hunters on his own. So why would he sacrifice himself like that? If he suspected one of them to split off and chase her, that was the only possible option. He hadn’t given up yet, that was for sure, so he had a plan of some kind. She truly hoped he did.

A shout rang out behind her.

She swung her head back, looking behind them, searching for the source. That wasn’t Tiberius’s voice, it was different. It wasn’t the big guy’s, Butch's, either.

While she couldn't see anything yet, she took a quaking breath in, facing forward. She had to force herself to relax her hands on the reins because her nails had begun to dig into her hands.

Alabaster was wicked, but a different sort of wicked was what had been done to Tiberius. Her heart began to tremble, joining the rest of her body. Maybe this is why he sent her off on Elliot.

She could hear a horse following behind her. It was gaining.

With a momentary scrunch of her nose, she felt the anger inside her grow, festering in her throat. If this was the man who had done that to Tiberius, this bastard was in for it.

Tori took Alabaster’s shotgun in both hands, checking that it was loaded. It was, as she expected it to be. Now was not the time to be out of ammo.

She turned again to look.

The shadow of a dark horse drew nearer, weaving through the trees, which were already beginning to thin out.

It looked like there was a man riding it, and they were still gaining.

Elliot was starting to hesitate. Tori felt him start to slow, and she pressed on his sides with her legs, urging him to go faster. He started to speed up again.

But the man behind her was already catching up. He was only a few feet behind her, now.

She swung her arms up with the shotgun, aiming as well as she could for the man's shadow from atop Elliot. She likely wouldn't hit him, but at the very least, she could buy herself time. Maybe she'd hit him, miraculously, but it was doubtful.

She aimed at anything above the horse, ideally she didn't want to hurt the animal.

A crack rang out in the night.

In an instant she was reloading again.

But she didn't get to finish.

A hand gripped the collar of her shirt, and in one swift pull, she was flying off the saddle, into the nearest tree. Her voice cracked in pain as she collided.

Her gun went flying out her hands, disappearing into the night, and Elliot went gallopping away along with the other horse. But she heard one of them circling back around.

She strained to get herself to her feet, but she had hit the tree hard enough to shock her body again. A wheeze escaped her. First it was horses, but now it really seemed like the trees were against her too.

She watched a horse grow near in her swirling vision.

When she felt for her favorite knife instinctively, it was missing. Her heart sank, realizing her blade had been left behind along with Alabaster's body. But she kept her hand behind her, as if it were ready to be pulled out anyway. She had another, but it was on her other side, and she didn't want to give this fact away just yet.

The horse slowed to a stop in front of her, and the man hopped down, his face in shadow. He was a few feet off, and deliberately seemed to stop at a distance.

Wordlessly, he started to slowly approach.

All she could hear was her own wheezing breath for a moment as she waited.

On her next inhale, she bolted directly for him, aiming to ram into him and knock him off balance.

Squaring out his stance, he steadied his feet.

When she was about to collide with him, he dodged to the side, catched her foot with his, and she went flying to the ground.

Just as she slammed into the dirt, a heavy weight fell on top of her, and the man's elbow lodged between her shoulder blades.

Her voice cracked on inhale. Gods, that hurt.

She managed to pull out her other knife and sink it into whatever part of the body her arm could reach. It connected.

The man on top of her grunted, but then his hand curled over hers, holding the dagger in place.

His grip tightened, and his fingers dug into hers. She fought to keep a hold on the dagger but eventually he ripped her hand away, and then his presence lifted, and he grabbed both of her hands, violently flipping her over onto her back. Her head slammed back into the ground as he sat on top of her, pinning her down.

"I didn’t know the little soldier boy had a lover," the man spoke, his voice quiet, and sickeningly sweet. It made her skin crawl, and she felt every muscle in her face grow tight as she snarled.

The man leaned in closer, just enough that she could feel the heat of his breath against her face.

"How heroic of you," he said. "To come back for him. It's a shame he'll never be the same man he was before... though I think it's an improvement, don't you think?"

His hands gripped her wrists tighter.

"He was a fighter, just like you," he said. "It's like a privelige, getting to discover how to make a man like him - a career soldier, a wanted outlaw - finally break down into tears, begging for mercy. If only you were there to see the final look of resignation. The way the light in his eyes died..."

The man trailed off, and Tori could catch a glimpse of his teeth in an open smile above her.

"I miss him. But I suppose you'll do."

Ripping one hand away from her wrist, he pulled something from his belt. Just as she reached up to retaliate, he clapped a cuff around her hand, yanking it over her head, attatching it to her other wrist.

Tucking her hands behind her head, he pulled out a dagger, and the blade gleamed in the small stream of moonlight. Memories came flooding back, and she froze, her mind shutting down.

Leaning in, the man reached to her side, pushing up her shirt to reveal her stomach.

Then he dug into her skin with the blade, slowly, and deliberately.

With a pained growl and welling tears, she fought him, straining even though it was hopeless with the strength she had.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over them, and the man was ripped off of Tori, pulled away with a loud growl.

When the man landed on the ground, Tori saw Tiberius standing over them, his eyes wide and enraged, and every part of him splattered in what looked like blood.

Tiberius's attention fell to the man at his feet, and he pounced on top of him, grabbing the front of the man's shirt to lift him up before Tiberius pummeled his face with a heavy crack of his fist to his skull.

Still in shock, Tori watched as her attacker almost instantly went limp, but Tiberius's fists kept flying as he held the unconcious man to the ground.

After a moment, she began to realize that he had no intentions of stopping.

Fighting the searing pain in her torso, she sat up.

"Tiberius, he's gone. Stop it," she called, trying get her voice loud enough for him to hear. She didn't realize how sapped of strength she sounded until she spoke.

It was like he didn't hear her. He kept punching, and Tori could hear the sickening crack of the man's nose under his fists.

Her heart began to sink, realizing that the rage he was experiencing was not unlike what she felt a few weeks ago.

A flash of memory hit her. Of Kelsie. His appearance became more and more distorted, jagged, and broken with every crack that sounded. Her eye twitched.

She forced herself to her knees, and then to a stand. Her body felt so incredibly weak, but she shoved the feeling aside.

“Tiberius!” she called again, this time more commanding.

When he didn't respond, she bravely marched over, practically up next to them.

What with his comment days prior about her name not needing to be her real name, along with the recent blunder of his when addressing himself, it couldn't hurt to try the other name he used.

”James,” she nearly growled, she’d grown pained as he continued to beat on the corpse. She neared, but not close enough to touch, expecting she'd have to pull him off.

Almost instantly, he froze. Her heart nearly stopped once more, thinking he was about to turn on her.

Fist hanging over the corpse mid-motion, Tiberius stayed deathly still for a solid three seconds before his hand started to tremble.

Shaking it out, he abruptly turned to look at her, scanning her up and down, and his eyes landed on her cuffs. His eyes widened and he reached around the man he was on top of, digging into the man's pocked before he pulled out a key.

Getting to his feet, he stood in front of her and held out the key, his hands still shaking with the slightest tremor.

"Let me," he said, barely audible.

In the spot of moonlight, Tori could see his blood-splattered face, and his pupils were the size of saucers.

Tori came back to reality, gingerly holding her wrists out for him. She watched him carefully. He looked truly awful right now.

Even though his hands were shaking, he managed to get the key into the lock on the first try, and he gently pried the cuffs off her hands, tossing them to the side along with the key.

Before he could try bossing her around again, she huffed a bit. It was a huff of pain, but also to get his attention.

"You need to sit down. You look awful," she said, her heart aching in her chest. She truly thought she was going to die for a moment there.

Tiberius hesitantly reached out, but his hand stopped, hovering inches from her arm. His mouth opened, like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out as he pulled away.

He swallowed.

"Elliot," he said instead. "Where is he?"

Her eyes finally left him, slowly looking about for where she last saw Elliot abandon her.

The only horse nearby was the dead man's, and it was looking antsy.

"I..." she drifted off, lost for words. Elliot couldn't have fully run off now, had he? She did find him not far from Tiberius the first time, so maybe he was still nearby.

Tiberius looked out into the forest, still breathing quickly. Tori could hear the crackle in his chest. It sounded louder than before.

Tiberius let out a weak, breathy laugh.

"Well," he said. "There goes our medical supplies."

Tori simply looked up, her stomach still gnawing away at her, bleeding this whole time. She carefully set a hand over it, holding pressure to it as she scoffed, or maybe laughed. She couldn't tell which it was, but it didn't matter.

She muttered something to herself, trying to cope with their state of affairs.

"Gods, I'm so tired," she wavered where she stood.

"Wish I could say the same," Tiberius said.

"Of course you can't you dumb shit, with whatever it was you took," her voice grew harsh, and she realized she sounded like Gisa, scolding the young wily teen she had been.

Tiberus let out another huff of a laugh, but he quickly fell silent when they both heard someone clear their throat from the trees.

Tiberius stood tall, at attention, and Tori could see his fists clench at his sides again, on guard.

"I mean no harm," a wavering voice came from the shadows. "Now that those men are gone I'm-- I-- thank you for taking-- um."

Emerging from the shadows was a thin, slender man with ghastly pale skin and gaunt cheeks. She recognized him from the first night she rescued Tiberius: he was the man she'd knocked out, who'd been on watch.

Somehow, his high-pitched, cowardly voice seemed to fit his frame and his shrunken posture. He stepped into the dim light with hunched shoulders, and she saw he had two leads in his hand. One led a horse - presumably his - and the other Elliot.

"I found your horse," he said with a weak smile. But Tori could see the fear plain in his eyes as he stared at Tiberius, clearly on edge.

Tiberius said nothing, and merely stared the man down. Tori could see his bloodied fists clench tighter, like he was clearly trying to restrain himself.

Tori carefully put a hand out, as if to block Tiberius from escaping. It wouldn't work if he actually did make a break for it, but she didn't want to see any more death tonight. She looked to Tiberius.

"Where's Butch?" she asked, low enough that the medic couldn't hear. If they were far enough away from danger, they could rest easy for the time being. Even in her beaten and bruised state, she could handle the medic easily if he fought them.

Tiberius blinked, and she could hear him swallow thickly.

"...Dying," he said, barely audible.

"Ok," she said, looking up again. "You're fine, just come out slow," she said, calling for the medic. "And nothing hasty."

Obedient, Oliver, or "Ollie," stepped forward with slow, trembling steps. He actively avoided both of their eyes, and stopped a few feet short of them, letting go of Elliot's lead.

As if waiting to be freed, Elliot waited only a second before walking up to Tiberius, dipping behind him so that Tiberius had access to the saddle.

Tiberius unbuckled the saddle bag and reached in, pulling out their medkit.

"I-I w-w-would be content to l-l-leave you t-t-to it," Oliver stuttered pitifully. "But if y-you would like any assistance--"

"No," Tiberious said sharply, his voice cold and cutting.

Oliver shrank away.

"I know I-- I'm a doctor and I could--"

"No," Tiberius said again, staring at Oliver with a wide-eyed glare.

It was at that moment that Tori realized something was wrong with his ear. It was bleeding profusely. And it looked like a piece of the cartilage was missing. It seemed like the more she looked at him, the more injuries she found.

Oliver hesitated, looking to Tori, and then to Tiberius again. He barely opened his mouth.

"You," Tiberius said, pointing at Oliver accusingly. "Stood by for days. Watching. Cleaning up their mess. And only now, that I've taken care of yours, do you offer me the least possible recompense--"

Tiberius stuttered, but it was more of a gurgle. Tori watched as his hand went up to his side, preparing herself for if he fell.

"The least you could--" Tiberius tried again, beginning to slouch. "Could do... is..."

And then he started to sway.

Tori hurried to his side, watching as his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed, landing in her arms. The medkit fell to the ground beside him.

She looked at Tiberius, then Oliver. Now that her companion was out, Oliver could speak freely.

"...He needs immediate care," Oliver said, his voice a bit more steady, perhaps now in the absence of Tiberius's conscious presence. "I know you have no reason to trust me, but he may not survive this if someone doesn't look after him. Please... let me help. After I do, I will leave you both alone, and you'll never see me again."

After eying him for a moment, she sighed.

"Honestly, I was wondering how long it would take him to pass out," she muttered. "You're fine. For now. Your work is better than both of ours combined, and beyond that." She wavered where she stood, still holding Tiberius close.

"Right, then," Oliver said. "I'll--um. I'll get a light. Go on an lay him down."

As he bid, she carefully lowered Tiberius to the ground. She plopped down underneath him, his head in her lap. Returning her hand to her stomach to hold it tight, she waited. Listening to his crackling breath, fighting off the memories again.

It wasn't long before Oliver returned with a lantern in hand, a fire crackling inside it.

Suddenly, the pitch dark night was illuminated, and as Oliver approached, Tori looked down and could see Tiberius clearly.

It was horrific. He was drenched in blood splatter, but the deepest red came from a deep gash in his side and his gushing ear. Some blood from his ear had begun to seep into her pants.

"A-Ah," she nearly gagged as she tried to speak. She had to look away for a moment.

"You're injured yourself," Oliver said, kneeling beside her and Tiberius. He had a medkit of his own in hand, and he set the lamp down on the ground. "Will you be able to stop your own bleeding, or will you need my help?"

Tori didn't respond.

His head tilted as he looked at her side.

"It looks shallow," he said. "You should be able to get it to stop with enough pressure. It'll take some time."

Reaching into his kit, he took out a rag, offering it to her.

"Use this," he said. "It's clean."

Visibly, she came out of thought. She looked his way, avoiding Tiberius's gash. Her gaze clearly moved from the rag to Oliver and back to the rag again. After a second of pause, or maybe dumbfoundedness, she took it.

"Thanks," she said dryly. She carefully held it to her wound, then held it firmly. She watched Oliver to try and get her focus off of the pain.

"You focus on that," Oliver said. "I'll take care of him."

He reached around and pulled out a small blanket, gingerly laying it out on the ground before he reached over and grabbed Tiberius, lifting his shoulders off of Tori's lap and moving his torso so it was on the blanket.

Tiberius was limp in Oliver's hands, but Tori could tell he was heavy to the willowy doctor. Despite it, Oliver was careful to lay him down gently.

With Tiberius in Oliver's hands, Tori was left to observe while she held pressure against her own wound. Oliver worked quickly, first peeling off Tiberius's bloodied shirt, and then pulling away the sliced bandaging that overlapped with the new wound.

Tori had to look away when Oliver repositioned the light, revealing the gash to be disturbingly deep, having torn away at Tiberius's flesh with no mercy.

If Tori had to guess, that was from Alabaster. She knew he had knives on him for hunting and the like, but this...

She looked away, but she could hear Oliver's shuffling, and his occasional muttering to himself, though none of it was comprehendable. Occasionally, it sounded like Oliver got up to grab something else, and she would glance back, only to see more blood and look away again.

It felt like forever until Tori finally peeked over and Tiberius was bandaged up, his head included. A large pad had been taped to the side of his head, covering his ear.

Then Oliver turned his attention to her.

"Alright," he said calmly as he poured water over his hands, washing them in a small basin with soap. "Now let me look at you. Is it just your side?"

Tori blinked.

"What. Oh," she looked down at her gut, then back up. He had pulled her out of her weird little trance.

"You'll be needing stitches," Oliver said plainly. "If you can endure it to stay still, I can do it for you. But you'll have to be careful over the next two weeks to not overextend yourself. You need to let it heal."

A pause.

"As much as you can manage, at least," he said with a sigh.

Slipping on a pair of gloves, he pulled out a needle.

"I'll be ok with the stitches," she said, forcing a smile. "I've... gotten worse before." She sounded a bit defeated at this fact.

"I'm sure you have," Oliver said. "You seem a hardy sort. But that's no reason to deny yourself proper medical care. I promise if you let me stitch you up I'll be on my way. I'll even gift you what I have to keep with you. Hopefully it'll sustain the both of you in the after-care to follow."

Tori nodded in understanding.

With a small sigh, Oliver approached, carrying the light with him. He settled at her side.

With a small gesture of his hands, he motioned for her to lift her shirt so he could access the wound.

Absentmindedly she obeyed, letting him see it.

"Oh. By the way," she looked at him, a little dull. "Remember back when I nabbed him from you guys' camp?"

Oliver looked up at her, but his expression looked unimpressed.

"I'm sorry," she said weakly, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Oliver let out a small sigh.

"This will be easier if you lie down," he said in resignation.

Tori laid down begrudgingly, still watching him.

"So no comment," she stated to herself. Perhaps he was deeply disappointed in himself. Maybe he didn't want to talk about it. He did crumple pretty fast.

Oliver started cleaning the area around the wound.

"You did what you had to," Oliver said quietly. "And so have I. Now stay still."

He reached into his bag and wiped something across her side that stung intensely. She bit her lip, staying quiet.

Oliver wiped something else against it, but this time, it was cold.

"This will numb it a little," he said. "But you'll still feel it some."

And then he went in with the needle.

She could feel the tug against her skin, and some of the piercing sensation, but like Oliver said: it was dulled. Staring up into the sky, she was able to lull herself into the usual mindless state she forced herself to have with wound care. She had practiced this a fair amount over the years.

Finally, Oliver gave one last tug, and then rubbed something cold over the stitching. It felt soothing, and after Oliver stuck a bandage over it, he simply tugged down her shirt, and began packing his things, peeling off his gloves.

Tori laid there still as could be and simply watched.

It looked like he was being hasty, putting everything away in his bag.

"Your... friend," Oliver hesitated, looking over to Tiberius, then back to her. She met his eyes. "His pupils were dilated, and his heart was racing. Do you know what he took?"

Tori looked over at Tiberius, thinking on that. She never got a good look at the syringes originally, so she didn't really know. She looked back, processing an answer.

"I'll take that as a no," Oliver said before she could reply. "If that's the case, I'd be careful with him when he wakes. Whatever it is, there might be side-effects, especially with the state his body is in currently. He's already hanging on by a thread as is. If he'll listen to you, and you can afford it, try not to move him so soon, will you? I'm quite positive those men he killed won't be coming back to life any time soon."

She nodded solemnly in understanding from where she laid. "I understand," she whispered. "...Thank you."

Oliver nodded stiffly, getting to his feet. He left his medkit at her side, the lamp still on the ground beside her.

"Well," he said, glancing down at it. "That's yours now."

His eyes flicked off into the distance, behind her.

"...If you haven't thought of it already," Oliver said. "It may be wise of you to take Reed's horse, now that it's in lack of a rider. I don't imagine you and Mr.Hemming will make it very far with one."

Tori hummed in thought. Oliver was right.

"Do you know its name?" she asked gently. She didn't want a repeat of a nameless horse again.

Oliver hesitated, like he thought the question was odd.

"Uh," he said. "Brenna. I think."

She sat up ever so carefully.

"Ok. Thank you," she said, hiding the pain as well as she could.

Oliver hovered nearby, standing silent as he merely watched her, having yet to leave.

"I... it would be wise to redress his other injuries, after the, um... mess," Oliver hesitated. "Seeing as you are..."

He gestured loosely to her.

"Would you allow me to do it so that you can rest?" he asked.

Tori merely sighed.

"I'm not going to fight you like Tiberius, just go ahead." The exhaustion was beginning to hit her again, it felt like. Her eyelids growing heavy, she adjusted herself to watch while she sat more comfortably.

Oliver nodded, and he picked up his kit again, returning to Tiberius's side without another word.

Silently, he began to carefully unravel Tiberius's other bandages, cleaning the old wounds and bandaging them up again.

It took some time, as Oliver was thorough, and seemed to know where everything was without even checking. Tori tried to note some of the ways he cleaned and disinfected the different wounds, especially the burn on Tiberius's back.

Tori realized that, despite having seen all the bandages and knowing James was deeply hurt, she hadn't actually seen all of the injuries up until this point.

With each one Oliver uncovered, her heart sank more and more. So many of these cuts... all done with purpose and intention.

It felt like an hour had passed by the time Oliver finally finished and packed up his bag once more, this time leaving it by Tiberius, along with the flickering lamplight.

Silently, he got to his feet and began to turn to his horse.

It wasn't until he got in the saddle that he looked at Tori again. She met his eyes momentarily, remaining silent.

"I know it's none of my business," he said quietly. "But... however you know this man... maybe consider the cost. I'm sure you already have. I just... you seem a decent person. I'd hate to see your fate end the same as his."

Oliver looked to Tiberius, his expression sober, and sad.

"It's tragic, his lot in life," he said. "But I don't think there's much to be done about it. Just... take care of yourself. If that's not too presumptuous to say."

Her gaze seemed to harden, and she held her tongue. He needed to hurry up and go, before he pissed her off.

With a small flick of his reins, he started to turn around.

"I'll be off now. Take care," Oliver said.

And then he rode off into the night, disappearing into the darkness.

After a minute or two of sitting there in silence listening to the insects, she swallowed. She should probably try and at least get Reed’s horse, Brenna, tied to a nearby tree so she stayed. It wouldn't be ideal to fall asleep on accident and lose a free horse.

With a grunt, she stood. Her body immediately began to protest. Every muscle ached, but a deep pain flared in her back and between her shoulders where she’d been pinned.

It felt like something in her chest had broken too, but she was unsure. She shut her eyes, taking a slow breath in. Eventually she had filled her lungs enough to send a blindingly sharp pain through her chest and part of her back.

She winced. That was the limit, it seemed.

Opening her eyes to the lantern light, she searched for the horses.

Elliot hadn't gone anywhere. He was loitering about, watching over Tiberius. He had drawn closer now that Oliver wasn't in the way anymore. She didn't need to worry about him probably.

Her eyes glossed over their surroundings, hunting for Brenna. The horse had meandered off, doing what looked like grazing.

She didn't want to spook her, so she cautiously approached, letting her presence become known. Maybe the horse would come to her at this distance.

After a call or two, Brenna slowly walked up to her, a bit cautious at first. Brenna sniffed about, familiarizing herself with Tori. She seemed to be a gentle horse, so that was a relief.

Eventually, Tori managed to rest a hand on the horse's neck, gently smoothing her hand across the hair.

While she pet the horse, her mind grew still. She felt... oddly at peace.

Butch, Reed, and Alabaster were all dead.

Assuming that Oliver didn't rat their location out the moment he returned to civilization, they were safe for the time being.

She looked back where she had left Tiberius, thinking for a moment.

With how disoriented he was earlier, it was probably best to stick to calling him Tiberius still. Even though she was curious, some secrets would always be just that. It seemed to be that many people had incomplete stories. Some were missing key details, and some were only mentioned indirectly or in passing. So many she simply never got the chance to hear. Gisa had promised to tell her old stories when the time was right.

While her heart ached at the thought, Gisa and her time had passed. There wasn't much to do about it now.

Whatever Tiberius's name, it didn't matter. He nearly died protecting her tonight, the thought of which made her shudder.

"I've really got to stop thinking so hard, Brenna," she sighed to the horse, who was still accepting her pets. "My head hurts."

Tori led Brenna over to a tree and tied her there, leaving plenty of length for her to move about. After a sad apology, she turned toward their impromptu camp.

She remembered the shotgun mid journey, so she took a detour to go obtain it. As much as she trusted Oliver's doctoring, he was the sort of man to break under pressure. If anyone showed, she'd fight if she had to.

With a few agonizing minutes of searching, she found the shotgun and headed back to camp. Once returned, she sat herself down above where Tiberius's head lay, setting the shotgun to the side. She felt like she was being watched.

Elliot met her eyes as she looked over.

"What the hell am I going to do with him like this, Elliot," she sighed to herself. Returning her gaze to Tiberius, she sat there for a moment in silence, listening to him breathe.

He still looked awful. Sweat had built up on his brow, mixing with the dirt and drying blood in his hair. Just the sight of it made her itchy. She should just blow the lantern out so she couldn't look at it anymore.

Actually.

Since he couldn't complain about it... She leaned over and gently pushed a few bits of hair away from his forehead with her fingers. Now she didn't have the sweaty dirt hair stuck to his face to bother her.

She turned to the side, and with a quick puff, she blew the lantern out.

Pain radiated through the side of his head, and James woke up with a pained gasp, his whole chest crackling. The humid night air was suffocating, and James's breaths shook, each with a pained wheeze as he opened his eyes.

It was still dark. The crickets were buzzing loudly. There was a faint ringing in his ears.

He took in another ragged breath, turning to look around, but all he could see was the shadow of the forest and the night sky. His eyes would take a while to adjust, if they ever even would.

His whole body ached unbearably.

He wished he had some sort of pain-killer. This was so much to wait out.

Squinting in pain, he tried to suppress a sad moan, refusing to cry.

Where was he again? What happened? His head felt foggy, and he couldn't clear it.

"Tori?" he whispered, desperately hoping she was still around and alright.

A moment of silence.

“I’m here,” she gently announced from what sounded like behind him and out of view. It sounded like she was facing away from him.

There was a small grunt, presumably as she moved to faced his way. She was just barely out of his range of vision before, because her shadow began to inch into view.

“It’s just us and the horses,” she assured him. She sounded like she was barely there with how weak her voice was. “You got hit pretty good in the side. Don’t go moving around, ok?”

James didn't move.

"Okay," he said quietly, still trying to piece together what happened. It was coming back to him slowly.

The rush of adrenaline. The gunshot. The blood.

So much blood.

He wanted to ask if Tori was alright, but for some reason, he had a feeling he might've already asked. Hesitating, he tried to crane his neck to see her, wincing in pain as his ear began to throb against the side of his head.

"Can you... move?" he asked tensely.

He wanted to see her. Even if he couldn't make out much in the darkness.

She moved over so he could see her better, sitting to his side.

"Yeah," she said quietly. "Sorry."

James looked up at her, only able to see the silhouette of her head and shoulders.

"I... what happened?" he asked. "After I...?"

"...after you collapsed?" she finished for him.

"Yes," he said.

"Promise you won't get mad," she said bluntly.

James stared up at her.

"You let him help," James said flatly.

"...Mmhmm," she sounded out guiltily, as if she had been caught stealing cookies.

James closed his eyes, letting out a tense sigh.

He was far too exhausted and pained to be angry with her. If anything, he was merely tired, and the frustration that boiled up died down quickly.

He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about Oliver, and James actively pushed out the memories from his mind, trying to forget. To ignore.

"Did he help you too?" James asked.

"He did," she replied. She sounded less guilty about this response than the last. "I'll be ok, don't worry about it." The guilt sounded like it had been replaced with another emotion, more forlorn.

James looked up at her again, letting out another small sigh, partially in relief.

"Alright," he said. "Have you slept?"

There was a moment of deafening silence.

"I was just thinking about it," she sighed.

"Why don't you lie down, at least," he said. "I should be up for a while, even if I'm stuck lying down."

After a moment to think on it, she did just so, quietly laying on the ground beside him. She let out a long sigh, growing silent.

James didn't have much to say.

Reed was dead. Butch was dead. The man whose name he didn't even know was dead. In the span of just a few minutes, he'd murdered three people.

He didn't know what to do with it. The weight of all the lives he'd ended. All of the people he'd killed.

It felt like the burden just got heavier. And heavier.

"If... I do fall asleep, just... bump me if you need anything," Tori said sluggishly. She already sounded like she was half asleep with how slowly she spoke.

James blinked slowly, looking over to her.

"Alright," he said absently.

It was a miracle they'd survived. He still didn't quite know what came over him.

That kind of focused rage scared him. It was different than the battle he'd fought as a soldier. There'd always been a part of him that felt detached - like none of it was really real.

But this... it was like something in his soul had ignited. Anger, in the face of injustice. It had propelled him, and he couldn't help but wonder if he'd hesitated at all, if he'd still be alive, or if it would've ended as quickly as it all started.

James looked over at Tori, unable to see the details of her head or even to perceive if she'd laid looking at him or away from him.

He was beyond relieved that she had survived, and for that, he didn't regret his actions.

But the loss of life was still a reality he couldn't avoid, and it twisted in his gut like a bramble of thorns.

He looked up to the sky, staring at the stars.

Sometimes he liked to imagine that, somewhere across the world, in King's Peak, he and his family were looking up at the same sky. Maybe they were looking at the same stars, thinking about him as much as he thought about them. He wondered if they missed him anymore, or if the pain of his absence has dulled with time, while the pain he carried only grew.

To see them now, he'd be putting them in danger. But to see them at all would mean he'd be walking into King's Peak, the Moonlight Kingdom capital, and he knew there'd be no coming back from that.

The only way he was getting into King's Peak was cuffed and delivered up for slaughter.

Were James not so spent, and his body not aching, he might've dragged his hand across his face, just to rub away the weariness he felt in his eyes. Instead, he slowly stretched out his fingers at his sides, feeling the split skin on his knuckles sting underneath the bandages wound around them.

He should've wrapped his hands. He hadn't had the time for it.

He supposed it didn't matter, now.

He glanced again, over at Tori, trying to listen to her breathing. It was difficult, though. She laid on the side where his ear was covered, and everything was a little muffled behind the gauze.

He closed his eyes, trying to listen close.

Her breaths sounded labored, and a little pained. With sadness, he remembered how much he hadn't been around to prevent. He wished he could've stepped in sooner.

It sounded like she was still awake.

"Tori?" he whispered.

Nothing. Maybe she'd already fallen asleep. Perhaps it was for the best.

He didn't want to bump her over something as simple as feeling afraid.

"Yeah?"

James swallowed.

"I know this could've... ended better," he said slowly. "But I hope you don't blame yourself for it."

Her shadow looked over quietly.

"It's not your fault," he said softly, turning to look at her, even though he couldn't see her eyes.

She huffed through her nose. It sounded like a chuckle at first, but the shaky breath she took afterward sounded more akin to holding back a cry.

"It's not yours, it's not mine," James said, speaking softer. "The only people to blame are dead now. Whoever that man was... he's not coming back."

James wished there was some kind of light so he could see. But maybe it was for the best.

If Tori wanted to cry, he wanted her to feel free to without him seeing.

"I know this doesn't fix everything," James said quietly. "Life is still going to be difficult. And I'm sure there will be fights to come. But that motherfucker? You won't have to worry about him ever again."

Her voice cracked.

"Yeah," she croaked, wiping her face. "I thought he..." her voice drifted off as she took a pained breath. "I thought he killed you."

James's heart sunk at that.

"I'm sorry I worried you," he whispered. "But I'm okay. Can't kill me that easy."

He tried to offer her a small smile, but it hurt his face to do so.

"If you're trying to pull a shitty smile on me," she said through her crying. "I can barely see."

"That makes two of us," James said, trying not to smile again.

With an audible wince of pain, Tori sat up.

"Hey, no fair," James said. "I can't do that."

"Don't you dare make me laugh right now or I'll kick your ass," she put a finger in his face.

"Sorry. I'll stop being funny," James said flatly.

"If you want light, Oliver left his lantern."

James blinked.

"Oh," he said.

Normally, he'd say that was a bad idea. But at present, the only people they knew were out looking for them were dead. The light wouldn't lead anyone to them.

"That... sure," he said faintly.

For a moment, Tori rustled around, presumably in her bag.

A match lit, then the lantern shortly after. The light grew as the flame took over the wick.

She looked down at him, her eyes completely raw. It took everything inside of him not to well up with tears of his own upon eye contact.

"You still look bad," she said blandly.

Taking control of his features, he met her eyes again.

"Even my ass?" he asked, straight-faced.

Her finger pointed at him. The same way he had done to her that day.

She was speechless there, just pointing at him, her brows furrowed. She was shaking her head trying not to laugh. Unfortunately, James broke first, and he let out a pained chuckle that quickly turned into a groan.

At the sound of pain, Tori's hand dropped.

His stomach twitched, like his body didn't know whether to give itself to the laughter or seize up. He rested a hand tensely over his side as pain shot up, deep into his abdomen.

Forcing his laughter to a stop, he let out a long pained moan.

"Gods, that was my own fault," he muttered through clenched teeth. His eyes started to tear up, and he bliked hard to push the tears away.

"You kicked your own ass," Tori said with a huff, looking off to the side.

James took in a sharp breath, in far too much pain to argue.

"Yeah," he said faintly. "Now quick, sit down and tell me something depressing so I stop laughing."

She huffed to herself. "Depressing, huh?"

She looked over.

"Real depressing, or funny?" she asked, completely serious.

James's laughter had already faded, but the pain still remained as he held his side.

"Real," he said, not sure how else to respond while his side was throbbing uncontrollably.

Silence drew out for a moment. Her gaze drifted to the side, focused on her hands.

"I was awake," she said flatly. "Before the gunshots."

Any humor he'd managed to fill the space between them evaporated in a moment. That meant she'd have heard everything.

"He..." she struggled to begin, the slump in her posture sank deeper. She seemed to literally be looking for the words to say.

"He was right."

Her voice was hoarse and weak, it seemed she was fighting to simply be audible. It seemed like all the muscles in her face went into the curled up disgust in her brows and jaw.

James frowned, his brows drawing together.

"Respectfully," James said quietly. "I don't put any weight in the words of men like him. Regardless of what your past holds, what he said was unacceptable. And it doesn't change how I see you."

She didn't budge, still staring down into her lap.

After a moment, she looked up at the sky, then back toward him, but not meeting his eyes just yet.

"I've never been the same since then," she spoke slowly. "I'm not even sure what you can see in me." Her gaze was still lost, her eyes slowly drifting about.

James let the next silence pass briefly, feeling the weight in his stomach sink deeper when he thought about everything Tori wasn't saying.

"Even though he's gone..." her expression grew pained as she fought to continue. "What he did..." her voice nearly broke. She was practically growling. "...will never go away."

With the utmost compassion, James looked up at her in understanding.

"I know," he said gently.

Her drifting eyes finally met his. Her tears dried, something behind her eyes looked like anger.

"I understand now," she started slowly. "Why you wouldn't tell me about Reed."

James couldn't hold her gaze. He looked down, his skin crawling just at the name.

"I can't change what happened," the anger in her eyes had gone to her tightened throat, she nearly growled. "Just know, you aren't alone in this. I don't care if you've never met anyone until now who said they understood, but I understand."

James felt restless beside her. Anxiety started to chip away at him as she spoke, and his chest grew tight, like it was being bound in knots.

He knew Tori was just being sympathetic, and trying to be supportive. But it felt like he'd been exposed. Maybe that was how she felt, too, when the man he'd killed had talked about her. He didn't know.

All he knew was that all of it felt shameful, even if it shouldn't, and he wished he could pretend none of it ever happened.

His head hurt. His side hurt. His chest hurt.

And he could feel pressure slowly building behind his eyes.

Swallowing hard, he forced out a response.

"Thanks," he whispered.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up," she said sadly, as if she'd read his mind somehow. "With how kind you've been to me through all of this, I wanted to be honest."

A pause.

"And you did say real depressing, but I suppose that's just how life is at this point," she sighed, looking away from him, freeing him from her gaze. She had occupied her hands with the nearby blades of grass peeking out from under the blanket.

"You know how to deliver," he said.

She huffed through her nose slightly, giving him a side eye.

"What?" he said. "That's a good thing."

"You know what else I can deliver?" she said slyly.

James slightly raised his brows.

"I have a feeling you're about to show me," he said.

She extended a fist, putting it over his face as if she was going to beat him to a pulp. There was a glint in her eye from the lantern light. Frankly, he couldn't fight her even if he tried. So he just stared up at her, waiting to see what she would do.

Her fist opened, showering him with grass.

James squinted, blocking the grass from getting into his eyes. But there were many little pieces, several of which landed on his mouth.

He blew out of his lips, trying to disperse the blades of grass elsewhere, but it resulted in a sputter when they merely landed back on his mouth.

Deciding to change course, he embraced it, and instead suctioned the grass inside his mouth, proceeding to chew it.

Looking at Tori blankly, he just kept chewing.

"You are a freak," she stated, simply watching.

Spitting the grass out onto the blanket, beside his head (since he couldn't reach her), he huffed.

"You're learning this just now?" he asked.

She let out an exasperated sigh, putting her face in both hands.

"Why the hell did I save you. Honestly," she said, her voice muffled. She dropped her hands, feigning frustration, then looked back at him. "The fact that I thought you were going to hurt me that first day, I was so wrong. This is so much worse."

"I aim to dissapoint," James said with a small smirk.

"Well you did disappoint me with how you tried to escape. I guess you're doing alright at that."

"In my defense," James said. "I thought you were a bounty hunter. And I was justified to believe so."

"A bounty hunter," she repeated slowly, her eyes narrowing. She hummed in thought.

"What made you think that? Besides the fact that you were completely free to beat lil' ole me up while I sat there?" she asked, a hint of genuine curiosity in her narrowed eyes.

"I was in no shape to fight you," James said. "Proven by the fact I couldn't even make it into a saddle. But as for why I thought so - no one had tried to capture me for any other reason."

She started to smile, but it faded after a moment. There was another glint in her eye.

"No other reason, huh?" she said to herself, she brought a hand to her chin in thought. Looking out into the trees, she thought long and hard.

James stared at her.

"No other reason," he repeated.

"Arguably, I would say that some of the women I've encountered in the big cities--"

"Oooooooookay," he interrupted. "I get it, I get it. You can stop now."

Tori chuckled to herself, then returned her gaze to him.

"That was the funny depressing you didn't ask for," she said with a sad smile.

"Uh-huh," James said lowly.

She looked toward the lantern, the light of the flame flickering in her eyes. Her smile fading a bit, she sighed gently. It sounded like she stopped the sigh at some point in the process.

Her eyes slowly fell shut, her head sagging forward.

"Maybe you should lie back down," James said.

Her eyes opened back up, her sagging coming to a halt. She gave him a side eye again, barely moving from her still slumped posture.

She slowly shook her head, defeated.

Wordlessly she pulled the lantern over. It appeared she was about to blow it out.

James watched her, taking in his last few seconds of sight before they were plunged into darkness once again.

Eyes having yet to adjust, he couldn't see a thing. He could only faintly hear her move, presumably to lie down again.

Once settled down, she hummed to herself.

"Hey," she said, a few seconds later.

James turned his head in her direction.

"Hm?"

"I... don't know where to go now," she said, a bit slowly. "Once you can get on Elliot again, that is," she huffed to herself.

"What happened to braving the wilds?" James asked.

She groaned tiredly.

"I know I can brave the wilds," she said. "But now that you're all beat to shit, I doubt that you can. No hard feelings."

"I appreciate the honesty," James said flatly. "Sorry for getting beat up and ruining your plans."

"Stop it," she grumbled. "Anyway, I don't... I don't know which way you were headed before all of this blew up," she continued on, gesturing widely with an arm. "I'm just heading blindly north. The only problem is the big cities."

She sounded like she was thinking aloud at this point. There was more purpose behind her ideas than she had a few days ago.

"We could try the wilds and cut straight northwest, if it's feasible. Then we have the coast. But if we can't do that, we're forced north into Trinity and Haste," she spoke bluntly. "I'm unfamiliar with the whole area up there, unfortunately."

"I was going north as well," James said quietly. "I... didn't think I'd make it this far, honestly. My plan was just to get as far from the kingdom as possible."

"Well, that makes me feel a little better. I was worried I ran you off track," she chuckled softly to herself, but it began to fade.

"I don't even know how long we should stick together." Her voice grew quiet. "I want to help. I'm definitely not leaving you like this, but I don't want to weigh you down any more than I have been, y'know?"

She grew quiet.

"You're not weighing me down," James said softly after a pause. "I'm the one who can barely move."

An exasperated sigh sounded out.

"Perhaps," he said, before she could berate him. "Once I'm at least marginally functional again, we can reevaluate our departure plans. Until then, I'm quite content to focus on the present moment. We don't have to make any big decisions today. I don't think we have to. Not yet. Especially after what happened."

He glanced over at her, wishing he could see her face again.

"You asked me a question earlier," he said after a small pause. "Well, sort of. It wasn't worded as one, but I think you deserve an answer nonetheless."

"I'm so tired, I forgot. But shoot, I'm listening," she whispered.

"You said you don't know what I see in you," he said.

A pause.

"May I tell you?" he asked.

"You're not gonna make me cry, are you?" she joked.

"I don't know about that," he said, quieter. "I never desire for you to cry, but I know not all tears are bitter ones. I can't make any promises as for how you'll respond."

After a moment to think, Tori sighed gently through her nose.

"I... could use that probably," she responded quietly. "You have your permission."

She rolled over to face him, waiting patiently.

"With the caveat that I've only known you a total of two days or so," he said. "What I've witnessed is..."

He trailed off for a moment in thought, then decided to start over.

"The thing is... if you were to ask anyone in the world if they'd risk their life for someone they really loved, they'd say yes. For someone they really liked, the answers get less promising. Someone willing to die for their loved one might be considered a good one, and if they were to actually do it, they'd be considered a great one. But most people - and I really do mean most - when pressed with the real threat of life or death, will choose themselves, even if it is someone they care about. I've seen it happen, over and over.

"So to find someone willing to risk their life for a stranger - and, even more unlikely - someone they believe is an enemy? That is nothing short of a miracle. I'm sure there are many people in the world who would say that risking your life for an enemy is nothing short of foolishness, but if I'd dare to say that it's quite the opposite. You have to have an extraordinary value for life to be able to look at a man on the other side of the battlefield and still show him mercy. And it takes an even greater level of resolve and bravery to take a chance on him, with no guarantee he'd even appreciate it."

With a small sigh, he looked up at the sky.

"So, to me," he said. "I don't think I could hold you in any higher regard."

All he could hear was an occasional wheeze from her as silence drew out. She hadn't moved a muscle.

"That's..." she started slowly. "That's what I complained to Gisa about all the time. She never could get it through my head. She'd help people even though they hated her guts or didn't expect her to help at all. People like me."

A pause.

"Thank you." Her fist gently hit the side of his hand. "I only teared up a little bit, so you won't get your ass kicked just yet."

James huffed weakly through his nose, forcing himself not to laugh.

"That's what I forgot to mention," he said dryly. "How forgiving you are."

Tori evilly giggled at that, then moved to her back to look at the sky with him.

James felt a grin tug at his mouth, but it was lopsided, since it hurt on one half of his mouth.

For a few seconds, James let himself soak in the moment. It was so small, and so simple. They were just two outlaws, dismally injured, lying on the ground after a horrific encounter, trying to forget it all. Somehow, even with the knowledge that the three bodies of the men he'd killed were lying out in the forest, waiting for them in the morning, he felt a small sense of peace.

He didn't know how long he and Tori would be in each other's lives, but it seemed that, however improbably, he'd found an ally. And good company, at that.

A part of him didn't want to think about letting that go. Maybe that was part of the reason he'd been hesitant to answer her earlier question about when they would part ways. It was a question they couldn't avoid forever. Eventually, he would be well enough to function on his own, and though he didn't know how long that would take, he had a feeling it might be longer than either of them knew how to naviagte.

He had a feeling that Tori was weighing the same risk that he was.

It wasn't just that they were outlawed, and that both of them would always have a bounty following behind them.

He was afraid of getting too attached, and so was she. It was logical to fear it, and in their situation, it even felt justified. James didn't even think they were wrong for it, but it still pained him to know that he'd have to say goodbye to the first person he'd met since fleeing King's Peak who'd showed him any amount of true kindness, knowing who he was.

He let out a small sigh, tilting his head towards Tori.

"Do you like music?" he asked quietly.

"I'm not letting you play that sad shit again," she said immediately.

"What if I sang something instead?" he asked.

Tori hummed in thought.

"Sure," she said after a moment, a little hesitant.

"It's a lullaby my dad used to sing to my sister and I," he said. "I always found it calming."

"Alright." She sounded relieved. "You're safe."

He huffed lightly through his nose.

"Alright," he echoed, and then he looked back up to the stars, taking in as deep a breath as he could before he began to sing the song from memory.



When he finished, the forest felt quiet in comparison, even as the crickets's chirps rang on, and the buzzing of cicadas was a constant hum in the distance.

James turned his head slowly, looking over to Tori, his eyes finally adjusting just enough to make out the most basic features of her face.

Her eyes were closed, and he could hear her steady, constant breaths, along with a faint wheeze upon every inhale.

She was asleep.

For whatever reason, he felt relieved, knowing that she was finally able to rest, and he turned to look at the sky with a small smile.

He was content to keep watch for however long he needed. It had been a long night, and he knew Tori hadn't truly slept for days. So he set himself to keep watch until she woke up on her own.

Warmth had been growing across her face over the last... who knows how long it had been.

Tori's eyes opened slowly. It was a struggle, with how bright it was. Usually she woke up when dawn broke, along with the birds and miscellaneous animals. It was not dawn anymore. It felt like direct sunlight.

She groaned, both hands going to her face to cover her eyes. It was so bright.

"What time is it?" she moaned to herself, not expecting Tiberius to have lasted the night.

"Almost 11 in the morning," he said. His voice sounded rough, and gritty.

"Oh my..." she trailed off. She had really conked out.

She looked over, shielding her eyes while they strained to adjust, searching for him. He probably hadn't budged with how beaten up he was, but she wouldn't put it past him to try.

As suspected, he did not look any different.

"Were you up all night?" she asked.

"Yes," he said simply.

"I'd say I don't know how you do it, but..." she wiped her hand across her face. "That was me for the last few days, so." Her gaze turned skyward, but really she was looking into her hand.

With a sigh, she dropped her hand and sat up slowly. Carefully.

"I got a little sleep," he said. "Before."

"Uh huh." That was not a very specific description.

"Which was...?" She looked over, an eyebrow raised.

"Enough," he said. "For now."

With a slow, deliberate sigh, Tiberus began to move, tucking up his arms beside him as he started to sit up.

She watched him carefully. Part of her expected him to fall down, with how badly he was hurt. Instead, he seemed unsettlingly stable, apart from the tension he constantly held between his brows. Something about this told her that he'd been through this sort of pain before now.

He was a soldier before, she remembered stupidly. Like Gisa was. It was no surprise that he could will through this so well.

As he sat up, she mulled that thought over some more.

Gisa hadn't told her much about her past in regard to her service, or where specifically she worked. It was something to do with the Moonlight Kingdom was all Tori could really remember. She had mentioned the fact she left on a "bad note", but much more than that was simply speculating.

With how her team was ambushed, part of her wondered if Gisa had been outlawed like Tiberius was. For standing up for the mages.

"Now that you're up," he said, cutting into her thoughts. "I think we should get moving."

"I swear you are just like Gisa," Tori groaned. Out of all the people she knew, Gisa was the only one brave enough to shake her awake and then say something like that.

"Before we go," he said, glossing her comment over. "I'm going to check on the bodies. Some things were lost in the night, I gather. But I can take care of that. Is there anything I should look for?"

Nothing came to her mind for a second, but then she realized.

She looked forward, out at the trees.

"My knife," she emphasized, forcing a dramatic squint as she glared at the trees. That was her prized fighting knife, and it had served her for years. She was not letting it go that easily. If Tiberius couldn't find it, she would.

Tiberius nodded.

"Noted," he said. "I'll look for it. While I'm gone, can you make sure the horses get looked after? I think your new steed may need some aquainting with."

His gaze drifted over to Brenna, who was standing under the same tree Tori last tied her to. Brenna was nibbling at the grass in the shade.

"She's a good horse," Tiberius added after a small pause. "So it shouldn't take long."

"Yeah, I know," Tori replied, still staring down the forest. "I had to face my greatest fears last night while you were taking a nap. Befriending her. She's sweet."

Tiberius looked at her, blinking slowly.

"Ah," was all he said in response.

"Anyway-- I got you off track," she looked over at him as she spoke. "I can stay, but are you sure you should be running off alone right now?" She eyed him down, making sure he knew the pain he was in, as if it wasn't obvious already. It probably sucked for him right now.

"I can take a dead guy," he said blankly.

"Just two dead guys brawling it out," she sighed, slowly shifting herself to her knees so that she could stand.

"If I'm dying I'll make sure to let you know," Tiberius said, leaning forward to do the same.

Before she got to her feet, he inched up to his, and though he made no sound, she could see the tension in his body as he focused every muscle, like he was willing his body to move despite its every protest.

"I-- Now hold on just a second," she huffed, standing quickly and coming to his aide. "The last thing I want is you face planting." She hovered close enough for him to grab onto her if he needed it.

She was unsure where he hurt, so she didn't attempt to stabilize him just yet. Only if he started to fall she would.

"Tori, I appreciate it," he said steadily. "But what might be most helpful in the long term is if you spend your spare time in my absence looking for a good walking stick. I'll need one."

He let out a long, tense sigh.

"I will manage until then," he said. "I'll be back soon."

And then, without further explanation, he started to limp away at a turtle's pace.

Tori scoffed loud enough for him to hear, which unfortunately made her side hurt. This man was being so unbearable and rude to her.

Fine then. She turned, looking to Brenna and Elliot. They looked like wide-eyed children that had witnessed their parents arguing from around the corner, because they promptly dropped their heads to their respective grass patches the moment she turned. These horses were learning too much. It was good they couldn't speak.

She looked back begrudgingly after a moment, carefully watching how Tiberius limped away.

They were the same height, she knew. She had noted this a day or so ago. That should make it easier to find a good stick for him, since she could pretend to limp around with it herself. Of course, she couldn't judge how he should be walking, since she'd only known him with a bad leg, but that shouldn't matter. It was just a stick.

If she couldn't find anything, maybe once they got near another town she could steal a cane or something to make him miserable. Decent woodwork that was much larger and useful than her carving was generally hard to come by though.

On a related note... Soon she found herself sat down on the blanket, rummaging through her bag searching for her money. She wanted to double check how much she had.

Occasionally she'd peek a glance at how far Tiberius had gotten in the absence of her gaze. After a few absentminded occurrences of this, she realized this was like watching a pot of water come to a boil.

With her fingers, she slowly massaged the bridge of her nose and up her forehead, then smoothed out her brows with a sigh, wiping her hand down her face. She had to stop fussing over him like this. It was satisfying to bother him, but it did get old, especially when you were in as much pain as he was. He didn't even fight back besides the sarcasm.

She shook her head and peered back into her bag, finding her pouch of money. Turning in the direction of the horses and not of Tiberius hobbling away, she dumped the contents and sorted everything.

Well, that was disappointing. Somehow, she swore she had more than that. It was probably the booze and restock on tobacco and cigarettes, now that she thought about it. Elliot had gotten a few too many snacks on her shopping trip too.

As if horses could read minds, Elliot had waltzed up to her while she was refilling her coin pouch. Maybe it was because she got into her bag though. That's usually where she stashed his treats.

"Hi Elliot."

He stared down at her expectantly.

"You haven't even done anything deserving of reward yet, bud."

She got herself to her feet and gave him some pets. He was one spoiled dog.

After giving Elliot more than enough love and attention, she went to Brenna to give her some lovings too.

She spent a good while with her, leading her around in search of a stick for Tiberius. There weren't any good ones that were big enough to use though, so they returned nearly emptyhanded. Tori had stowed a few small branches for carving.

Tiberius had finally disappeared from view, the thought of which twisted her stomach a bit. She didn't want to think about the day they'd part ways. She didn't want to admit that it would be safer that way. She didn't want to be alone.

She shook her head, remembering what he'd said last night. While she didn't have forever, she did have plenty of time left to cherish while he healed. So she set the thought aside, looking to Brenna and her enticing saddlebags.

Now that it was daytime, Tori could do what she did best. Rooting around in stuff that wasn't hers.

Since the sick bastard was dead, she didn't need to worry about how things looked after her snooping. She rummaged around, finding a lot of useful travel supplies; food rations, a compass, maps of the local area, and spare clothes. More notably, there were a few different kinds of knives, all of which seemed high in value.

After a while, she finally closed the last pouch. That was it.

She peeked through Elliot's saddlebags again out of boredom. Nothing new.

Both horses got some snacks from the food sack.

Everything was packed up and ready to go besides the blanket she had sat on --which she had moved under the shade of a local tree-- and the shotgun next to her.

The waiting around was agonizing.

Tori got up with a huff and obtained a piece of one of the branches she had collected, as well as a small knife from her bag.

She stared at the currently hand-sized chunk of wood blankly for a while, ruthlessly planning. It had been a while since she'd seen hawks up close, so she let herself think. She didn't want to accidentally make nightmare fuel out of it. Maybe she wouldn't worry about realism, and settle for a simplified shape instead.

Once decided, she cut into the wood, letting the hobby consume her focus.

Movement from Elliot pulled her out of her creative trance some time later. She looked up from her work, searching for where he went. Her tired gaze finally landed on him walking up to a familiar, unsurprisingly limping, outlaw.

It seemed Tiberius had emerged from the thicker trees sometime during her woodworking, but he hadn't gotten close enough to pull her out of her focus.

...If that had been someone else, it could've been bad. With a grimace, she scolded herself for not being alert. Just because those three were gone, didn't mean there wasn't anyone else out looking for Tiberius.

She stuffed her work in progress into her bag and collected all of the larger shavings as best she could, storing them away in her tinderbox. With how bad his eyesight was, she severely doubted that he could determine what she was up to, but it didn't hurt to be careful. She wanted it to be a surprise.

Well. The carving wasn't really a surprise. He had asked for it outright, but with everything that had been going on, maybe he'd be preoccupied enough with his own stressors that she could still get a good reaction out of him. She snorted to herself, thinking about the potential faces he'd make at it. With the bright eyes he had when she brought up the hobby, she knew at the very least he'd cherish it.

With her not-surprise gift safely tucked away, she leaned back, resting her weight on her hands to watch the show. Elliot had lovingly barred Tiberius's path, so it would probably take a few extra minutes for them to get here.

She should ask about Elliot's past once they were safely on their way. What sort of place did Elliot came from? When did the two of them become companions? Was it love at first sight? Tori shook her head with a faint smile, then closed her eyes and embraced the disgusting thickness that had returned to the air.

She heard them nearing, and peaked an eye open.

Eventually, Tiberius stopped a few feet from her with Elliot at his side. It looked like he was leaning on Elliot as a support, holding onto the saddle.

Exhaustion was painted clearly in his eyes, but there was also a heavy sobriety he carried with him in the air.

"It appears that Oliver buried Reed and the man who hunted you," he said lowly.

Oh. Somehow that was unsurprising to her.

"I see," was all she said.

"They were shallow graves," he added, looking to the ground.

She hummed quietly.

"The guy was pretty small," she said with a shrug.

Tiberius was silent for a moment, his eyes still fixed on the ground at his feet. Tori could sense there was something he wasn't saying.

"Butch is gone," he said after an agonizingly long wait.

Her chest immediately grew tight.

"You're certain?"

"I looked everywhere I could think to," he said lowly. "There's... a trail. Footsteps, and blood, leading back to town. Then hoofsteps..."

She bit her lip, growing quiet.

For what felt like a minute, the two of them said nothing. Tiberius kept his eyes glued to the ground, and Tori felt the tension in her chest grow tighter.

"I should've... double-checked," Tiberius said, his voice wavering.

She carefully got to her feet.

"You did what you could, given the circumstances. We'll sort it out," she said.

She was trying to comfort him, but she had a feeling it wasn't going to help much. Butch was a different kind of monster in comparison to Reed, and just knowing that even Tiberius didn't kill him... Her heart had begun to sink.

"I also found this," Tiberius said quietly, reaching behind him. He pulled her knife out of his belt and offered it to her, handle first.

Her eyes widened. She didn't expect him to find it.

"You found it." Surprise entered her voice. Hesitating, she didn't take it yet. A muscle twitched in her hand.

"Yeah," was all he said in return, still holding it out, not looking up.

Eventually she took it from him, carefully looking it over.

"Thank you."

She watched him for a moment, wishing he would go back to the witty positivity he had not too long ago.

"Like I said," she spoke up, but tried to stay gentle. "We'll sort it out."

Tiberius hummed.

"I also... when, um," he started to say, reaching deep into his pant pocket. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, unfolding it to reveal Alabaster.

It was a wanted poster.

"Turns out he was wanted, too," Tiberius said quietly.

"No way. I wonder what for?" she gaped, forcing a surprised look and feigning ignorance. It was not surprising in the slightest. She probably wasn't the only one.

"Let me see," she held her hand out for it, making some grabbing motions.

He didn't resist, and let her take it.

She snatched it up, eyeballing it.

With a little bit of a hiss through her teeth, she grimaced. He looked even more evil like this.

"I... actually, we can burn it. I don't know what I was expecting to see. I just want to vomit now," she said, crumpling it back up in her hand. "Too bad we can't get the money."

Tiberius laughed weakly at that, but it sounded forced. He pulled out more crumpled papers from his pocket.

"He had ones of us, too," he said. "We can add them to the fire."

He offered them to her, not even bothering to unfold them.

Tori blinked.

"...Plural?"

Tiberius hesitated.

"Did you... not know?" he asked, finally looking up to meet her eyes. "When you said a man was after you, I just assumed..."

"I..."

She took the papers a bit dumbfounded, not opening them yet.

"I... He--" she didn't know how to explain it all to him right now. "He knew of me and was hunting me down. I knew that, but... I thought it was just him."

"I'm sorry," Tiberius said quietly.

She simply sighed, undecided on if she even wanted to look.

"Don't feel bad, Tiberius." She smiled weakly. "It's not your fault I had some weird years growing up. It is what it is I suppose."

Warily, she peeked at one of the papers.

"I bet this one is worth thousands," she rolled her eyes and handed it back to him. It was his.

"Hilarious," he said dryly. "The real thing's worth more."

He started ripping it up.

"Mmhmm," she hummed, clearly not sold. "I don't want to open mine," she pouted.

"You don't have to," he said, still tearing his into several tiny pieces.

She looked up at him, realizing he wasn't paying attention to her. Ugh. Well, she got him to at least talk a bit, so that was better. And he wasn't looking.

While he was busy, she opened the remaining paper.

"Oh my God," she cried, sounding heartbroken. This was the worst time of her life to have a wanted poster made of her. She slapped the page closed.

Tiberus turned to look at her.

"That bad?" he asked.

She couldn't fight the heat growing in her face.

"Yeah," she squeaked, looking disgusted, and several other emotions all at once. "It's just great knowing that the one job I had working at a saloon is what they chose. Why do I deserve this."

She looked down, defeated. The paper hadn't left her hands yet, nor been crumpled up yet. Part of her wanted to keep it, but the rest of her wanted to shrivel up and die.

Wait.

"You looked at it," she started. Her head flicked back up, her brows tight.

Tiberius blinked.

"Yes," he said plainly.

She stared at him, dead silent. Her face kept getting hotter.

Tiberius lifted up the half of his poster that remained, which only had the upper half of his face intact - just the eyes and forehead, looking in her direction.

He held it over his own eyes.

"People will always butcher your likeness," he said. "Perhaps destroying it will help you cope. It has certainly helped me."

Tori didn't even know what to say to that. The problem was that the rendition looked accurate.

With a huff, she glanced at it again. Scanning. Double checking.

"I have bad news." She looked up, sounding grim. Her brows still low. She waited for a response from him and his new watchful eyes.

Tiberius lowered the poster from his face, giving her his full attention.

"It wasn't butchered," she said sadly, slouching forward. "I'm sorry you had to see it."

"All the more reason to destroy it," Tiberius said, resuming his tearing. "Wouldn't want anyone to find that on your person."

"Right..."

She looked at the page again, frustration coming back instead of the embarrassment.

"The other bad news. It says manslaughter on here. The only ones who knew I did that were the ones I fought a few weeks ago. They had to have gotten this updated," she spoke slowly. "I... knew one of the men in the group and was hanging out with him a bit but when all that shit went down, I ran without a word."

Her eyes lifted from the page, not meeting his eyes yet. She felt disappointed that she hadn't mentioned this until now.

"I have a feeling he's worried. I don't--" she paused. "I don't know how close he is with those men but, if he was... there could be a lot more than just Butch to worry about."

Tiberius paused in his tearing and he stopped to stare at her, suddenly very intently paying attention.

"When did you mention fighting off a bunch of men?" he asked.

"I thought I said something about it when I was explaining how Gisa--" she stopped herself, not wanting to think on that again.

Tiberius furrowed his brows together and let out a sigh.

"So this group of men know you killed the man who killed Gisa. And you have reason to believe they're looking for you along with the man you were involved with... or..."

He paused, raising his hand up to his face. He held the bridge of his nose, his head angled to the ground.

"How many people do we, at worst, have after us on your end of things? If you're counting all of the men in this... group?"

Tori hesitated for a moment. Growing quiet, she closed her eyes to think. Searching for the memories even though she didn't want to.

"Five. Maybe seven," she slowly opened her eyes, not wanting to see his reaction.

Tiberius lifted his head, turning his gaze to the sky as he let out a sigh.

"Okay," he said. "Between the two of us we could manage. At my best, I could take ten. So, with one more syringe, it's probably possible."

At the comment on taking ten, her face instantly grew sour. Was he being serious?

"I thought you were moping about Butch," she looked up, expression hard and unchanging.

"Allow me some sarcasm in this moment," he said, shooting her a light glare.

A muscle in her face twitched, like it usually did when she felt herself getting angry. She hated that it was a tell for it. The girls were pointing it out all the time, so she knew it happened. The last time this happened was in the plains, but he likely couldn't see then.

Memories of Gisa came back, dying in her arms. Her eyes grew hard as she met his. Pained. It felt like this was just a game to him.

She stepped right up to him, locking eyes. Resisting the urge to actually shove him, she pressed her finger to his chest, no care for anything that might hurt beneath it.

She could feel him stiffen under the touch, and when he met her eyes it was equally pained, but there was a brief flash of something else.

Fear.

"You were a soldier once, you should know it. Loss." Her voice grew low.

"I lost. Everything," her voice cracked, but her eyes were still full of fury. "I thought you died yesterday. You [i]look[/] dead. And you're out here... boasting?" she growled, searching his eyes.

Finding nothing but fear, she scoffed, turning briefly to the side, as if she was going to leave.

"You know what I have to say to that?" she said, teeth barred.

She faced him once more.

"Fuck you," she snarled, a hand shoved him, even though she swore not to.

He stumbled back into Elliot's side, catching himself from falling. For a moment, he simply hung there, clinging to the saddle, face turned towards the ground. She stared him down.

"You're right," he said quietly, after a tense pause. "It was inappropriate, and I won't do so again."

His face clearly pained, he pulled himself more upright, looking up to meet her eyes.

He looked exhausted. Though she didn't want to face him like this, she bit her tongue and waited, knowing he'd want to speak.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I misread the situation. I did not intend to make light of the gravity of our situation, nor the weight of your grief. I will endeavor to prove so in time, though all I have to offer at present is my word."

Tori's eyes softened ever so slightly as he apologized. It was still taking everything in her to not lash out at him, but at the very least he was being genuine.

Standing up a little straighter, he squared his shoulders.

"If you are in concurrence, perhaps we could strategize future options for defense while we make the best of our remaining daylight," he said.

With a huff and fold of the arms, she turned to the side. Now that he was done, she could look away and not feel as bad. She really did not want to speak to him at all at the moment.

"I'd rather we eat and get moving as soon as possible," she finally forced out. "Maybe later."

After a small pause, he just said: "Alright."

Having two horses was so much better.

They travelled further today now that Tori had Brenna. Elliot deserved the lighter load with all that he’d been put through recently.

After a long and quiet journey northward, they settled down for the evening.

Tori kept herself distanced from Tiberius while they ate their dinner, leaned up against a tree and watching the forest. The shotgun sat in her lap, patiently waiting for when their next attackers would inevitably arrive.

She didn’t even know if the men she’d mentioned earlier even would dare to hunt them. A large part of her worried that they would, but there was a smaller, hopeful side that prayed they would leave it to the mage hunters and bounty hunters.

Absentmindedly, she held her upper arm and massaged old scars with her thumb. She had encountered that group alone some years ago, and only made it out with a few cuts and bruises because her group found her in time. It could’ve been significantly worse.

Yesterday didn’t even feel real. It had all happened so fast, and even though they’d made it out alive, it truly was a miracle. She doubted that they could pull another off.

She'd been knocked out a majority of the time, unable to even help. Useless.

She sighed, passing a glance in Tiberius’s direction, curious what he was up to.

He was on his feet, brushing out Elliot's mane slowly. She could overhear faint murmuring on his end, but not enough to understand any of it.

After a couple minutes and some careful consideration, Tori stood and came over to them. She stopped short so she didn't startle them.

She cleared her throat. When he didn't seem to hear, she stepped up beside them.

Tiberius continued brushing Elliot's mane, only sending her a brief sideways glance.

At that, she looked down, watching Elliot's hooves below them. Apologies never came easy.

"I was thinking the whole ride today,” she started quietly, her hands clasping themselves firmly behind her back so he didn’t need to worry about getting hurt again.

“I shouldn’t have said what I did earlier. I snap when I’m stressed, but you don’t deserve to be the bearer of that,” she continued, keeping her gaze fixed on the soil below. "I'm sorry."

She turned to leave.

But before she took a step, Tiberius responded.

"I forgive you," he said softly.

Tori’s posture stiffened where she stood. Her hands began to clench tighter, causing her arms to shake at her sides. The sudden tension inside her aggravated her wound. She resisted the pain, standing there silently.

Forgiveness didn't come easy to her either. Somehow, accepting forgiveness felt even harder than apologizing. With apologies, you could say it and leave, as she attempted. But forgiveness... With forgiveness, there was an added weight to it. Accepting it meant that she didn't need to worry about her mistake anymore, which was not a simple task.

For his forgiveness to mean anything to her, she needed to forgive herself.

She was anything but forgivable.

Inhaling long and deep, powering through the pain in her chest, she stood there. She was going to leave before this could happen, but now she didn't know what to do.

"Could you help me?" Tiberius asked quietly.

It took her a second to register that he spoke. Once she realized, she passed a sad glance his way.

Tiberius looked up, not quite meeting her eyes.

"My leg is killing me," he admitted faintly. "Would you be able to get his tail?"

He held out the brush to Tori, still avoiding eye contact.

After a moment of hesitation, she quietly took it from him. She turned and started brushing quietly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Tiberius reached up over the saddle, pulled down the blanket, and laid it out just a few feet from her and Elliot. The process of him getting down on the ground was a bit pitiful to watch, because she could tell every movement was pained. By the time he was lying on his back, a full minute had passed, and he let out a weary groan once his head hit the ground.

Elliot turned his head in Tiberius's direction, and even though Tori was still brushing, Elliot started to move forward, walking up to Tiberius's side.

Tori was too worn out from the day to bother calling for Elliot to come back, so she simply stood there alone with the brush. Eventually she let out a long winded sigh. She couldn't really expect him to stay.

"Your dog is lonely," she stated blandly as she watched. It was probably obvious to him.

Elliot was already at Tiberius's side, sticking his nose in Tiberius's face.

With a deep sigh, Tiberius lifted his hand and patted Elliot's face.

"Sorry about that," Tiberus muttered, barely audible.

Eventually Tori walked over and began brushing at Elliot's tail again. She kept her focus there, thinking on her actions from the day.

She looked down at Tiberius. He was staring up at the sky, probably trying his best to block out the fact that his leg existed.

"I got some liquor in Banden, if you want some. It's probably better in your system than mine," she said, still brushing as she watched him. As much as she didn't like sharing her booze, he looked like he could use it.

"No I'm..." he started. "No. But thank you."

She hummed to herself, looking back to Elliot's tail.

"With how long it took you just to lay down, you need it. I haven't been in the mood for it anyway," she said mournfully.

She could easily get more later. It wasn't anything special, so most places that sold alcohol had it.

Looking back to him, she watched him quietly.

"I'll have to move again," he said as if it were an excuse.

"I'm literally right here with functional legs, Tiberius."

His brows pinched together.

"Oh stop it," she huffed. "You'll bust the scab on your brow again, and then you really won't be happy."

Letting out a resigned sigh, Tiberius looked away.

"Fine," he said, starting to push himself upright at an agonizingly slow pace.

Tori simply rolled her eyes and finished up with Elliot's tail.

She stowed the brush where she remembered best, then went and retrieved her bottle of liquor, returning to sit next to Tiberius on the blanket. The bottle landed in his lap.

"It's also an addition to my apology," she said meekly. "Even though you've forgiven me."

"Very thorough," Tiberius said lowly, picking up the bottle.

It was already pretty dark, and it seemed like he was trying to feel for the top of it. Then he turned the bottle around, squinting at the label.

She groaned in sadness.

"You're ruining the fun of it," she said, spinning it in his hands so the label was on the back again.

Tiberius sighed, and twisted the bottle open.

"I just wanted to know... how much," he said vaguely.

Air left her nose.

"Is someone... scared?" she leaned over, not too close, but enough to be a nuisance.

Maybe he hadn't drank before, she realized. Regardless, if his leg was throbbing hard enough that he couldn't fully rest, he needed something to help.

"More that I want to keep my wits about me in the event something happens again," Tiberius muttered. But before Tori could say anything else, he brought the bottle to his lips and took a long gulp.

When he pulled it away, his lips curled into a frown, and he handed the bottle back to her.

"Gods," he rasped. "What is that?"

"It's whiskey," she said through a wide smile. "My favorite."

She took a swig and simply laid back on the blanket with the bottle, smirking to herself. That was a good reaction. It cheered her up a bit, relieving the tension of the day just enough.

Tiberius let out a hoarse cough, lying back down at the same slothly speed as before.

"You should be fine with the gulp you took," she let out another amused huff. "I don't think this is the strongest stuff out there, but hopefully it takes the edge off."

Letting out a pained sigh, Tiberius laid flat against the ground.

"It'll probably do more than that," he mumbled, eliciting an unfeigned chuckle from Tori.

After a few moments of silence, she hummed in thought, looking over his way.

"I'm sorry for shoving you this morning, by the way. I know I practically accounted for it already, but I just want to be clear."

"Thank you," Tiberius croaked. He then turned his head to look at her. She watched as he parted his lips but said nothing, like was still deliberating over what to say.

He turned to look back up at the sky, like he'd decided to say nothing at all.

Tori simply watched him for a moment, then looked skyward as well.

For a short while, they laid there in peace.

She listened as the forest grew alive with the sound of nocturnal insects: mosquitos, cicadas, crickets, and katydids. There was another unfamiliar sound mixed in from an insect or perhaps a bird of some kind that she didn't recognize.

When she was a young girl, she'd often try to hunt down the source of such noises. She'd never find them no matter how relentless she was in her quest, which frustrated her at the time. Now that she was older, there was a calming air of mystery that seemed to accompany the unknown singers. The curiosity still remained though.

"Do you know what's doing that?" she asked softly, unmoving, as if her question would cause the creature to go silent. The creature continued on in the background, cutting through the others every so often. She mimicked the sound as best she could, better than expected for the first try. "That one. I don't know if I've heard it before."

Tiberius hummed and mimicking the clicking sound after her.

"Sounds like a skipjack," he said.

"Huh." She listened to it some more, wondering what the thing looked like.

"Oh yeah, I meant to ask earlier," she turned toward him. "How long have you had Elliot?"

"About three years," Tiberius answered.

"No wonder he's attached to you then. That means you had him through... all of that," she said vaguely.

"...Yeah," Tiberius said quieter.

Tori looked in Elliot's direction.

"Did he have a different personality when you two first met? Or has he been a good boy this whole time?"

"He's always been very sweet," Tiberius said, looking up at his horse. "But he was very... well, how should I put it?"

Elliot seemed to be staring down at him, and Tiberius's expression softened as he let out a small weak huff through his nose, and he patted Elliot's snout out of the way.

"He used to be quite troublesome with most people," he said. "But that was because no one took the time to get to know him. He just needed someone to be patient with him. Some creatures just need more time, you know?"

"Yeah," she nodded thoughtfully. "He surprised me at first when I found him, because I didn't expect him to be friendly with a stranger. Maybe he knew I was going to help you."

"It's hard to say," Tiberius said softly. "I think animals can often be a good judge of character..."

She hummed long and hard.

"I bet his humor would be as bad as yours if he could talk," she huffed. "Or he'd just be all "feeeeeed me," every time he looks at you. At least thats what I think he'd sound like," she said with a smile, closing her eyes.

"He is, perhaps, a little needy," Tiberius said with what sounded like a smile in his voice. "But... I suppose, when it's just been the two of us, I'd expect him to get attatched."

"Mmhmm," she nodded once more. "I've never really felt that with an animal before, but definitely with people. It's a weird feeling, going from nothing to something," she said, thinking aloud.

She grew quiet, thinking on the last couple days. Besides the few blow ups, they'd been doing alright. Eventually she looked back over at him.

"Not to get sappy an' shit, but I'm glad we met," she said quietly.

"Me too," Tiberius agreed softly.

A pause.

"And... you can be sappy," he said. "Gods know I'm probably sappy enough for all of us. But it's nice to share the load."

Tori grew silent again with a smile, thinking on that. After a moment she shook her head.

"I think your load is a bit bigger than mine. At least in the sap department," she sighed. "You've got so much of it, I don't know where it comes from."

Tiberius fell quiet at that, and she noticed his eyes grew sad as he stared up at the sky, but he watched the sunset with a wistful smile.

"Hm," he said, like it was supposed to be a laugh. His voice fell to more of a whisper. "Well... I tried very hard not to lose it."

"I'm glad you didn't," she said, trying not to get heartfelt.

"Well, at least I have something in my character to compensate for my humor," he said.

A hand swept over her face with a groan.

"You had better be thankful you're as busted up as you are, or I would've punched you," she said, promptly grabbing a fistful of grass to her side where he couldn't see.

"One day," Tiberus said. "I will figure out what makes you laugh."

"I am a ruthless killer," she grumbled, forcing the most intense voice she could.

"Oh, quite fearsome," Tiberius said with a grin tugging on his lips.

She threw the grass at his face with harrumph.

"Woe, plague be upon ye," she kept the thick voice up.

Tiberius let out a weak laugh, but it quickly turned into a groan. He turned his head to look at her, his eyelids heavy with probably a mix of pain and exhaustion. Some of the grass fell off his face.

"I forgot you laugh at grass, sorry," she sighed.

With a tired smirk, Tiberius lifted his arm, reaching over until his hand was over her head. She held very still, staring at him. Opening his palm, a small shower of grass fell on her face.

"I am going to send you to the grave," she said blandly, letting the grass become a part of her.

"It wouldn't be hard," he said, slowly pulling his hand away.

"As if I didn't know that already," she propped herself up on an elbow and took a good swig of whiskey again, then laid back and folded her hands on her stomach.

"Maybe we can actually sleep tonight," she said.

"Both of us?" Tiberius asked. "At the same time?"

"If I'm going to be completely honest, the both of us wake up when the air feels wrong. It'll be fine," Tori waved a hand in the air, shooing away the worries.

Tiberius fell silent, and when she looked at him, the look on his face told her that the whiskey was finally starting to kick in. With half-lidded eyes, he squinted up at the sky, blinking a few times.

"Oh, gods..." he muttered, barely audible.

"What's up?"

Closing his eyes tightly, like that would push the sensation away, he turned his face to the side.

"No... nothing," he said.

"You didn't chug that much."

"Shut up," he mumbled, squinting up at her. "I hardly ever drink."

"Sorry, sorry," she put her hands up with a pout, surrendering. "I ain't complaining, was just saying."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, rolling his head back over so he was looking up at the sky. "You're always 'just saying.'"

She hummed, shifting more to her side to face him. Perhaps this could be more entertaining than she anticipated. With a squint, she laid like that for a moment, strategizing her plan of action.

"Always?" she sounded as sad as possible. "Am I really that bad? I'm being honest and genuine."

Tiberius groaned.

"If you don't like me being truthful, you'd better be prepared for me to go back to the way I used to be before we ever met." She threw some more grass on him.

"What's wrong with who you are now?" Tiberius asked, weakly blowing at the grass around his mouth.

"I'm getting beat up all over, plus some sappy guy I know, not naming names, started wearing off on me."

Tiberius let out a quiet, weak laugh, rolling his head to the side sleepily. He rested one hand over his chest, and she could see he had another handful of grass, but it looked like he'd given up on throwing it back at her.

Even though he was still clearly in pain, this was probably the most relaxed she'd seen him since she pulled him out of the bounty hunters' grasp.

"What is it about being tough that's so appealing?" he asked softly. "I know... I know it's... well for me, it's -- in the army, some people had this idea that they'd be respected more for being cold. But I think I respected the people who were balanced most. Sometimes, situations call for a... well, it's like discernment. The best leaders were the ones who knew when to be harsh but also when to be soft."

He hummed, tilting his head back at her.

"I was always told I went too easy on people," he said with a weak huff through his nose. "Maybe it was inevitable I'd end up like this."

He reached over to her, hand still full of grass, and it was as if he couldn't reach up to her face, or didn't think that far ahead. His movement was a bit more clumsy, and she had a feeling that was both due to the fact the sunlight was almost completely gone and also the whiskey.

He dropped the grass beside her, and he let his arm flop over his chest, like he was too tired to move it.

"This is nice," he said quietly, meeting her eyes.

Usually she was unsettled by eye contact, but she was worn out enough from the day that she simply laid there and watched him with a meek smile.

"I assume you have uh," he said slowly. "A higher tolerance."

She shrugged her shoulders.

"You could say that, yeah," she said, still watching him.

He sighed, and turned to look back up at the stars.

Unmoving, she blinked slowly, thinking on something to ask now that he'd talked himself out. She looked up at the stars with him, thinking back on their time together.

"Hey," she turned her head back to the side. Hopefully he hadn't passed out in the moment of silence. "How much do you remember from yesterday?"

Tiberius's brows pinched together.

"...Why?" he whispered.

"After Alabaster," she began slowly, ignoring his question. "Do you remember saying anything?"

Tiberius swallowed thickly.

"It’s... kind of a blur," he said faintly. "It all went by quickly."

At the sound of him swallowing, she spoke up. "It's nothing bad, I assure you," she said confidently.

Her voice grew quieter.

"I'm not sure how to ask this," she laughed a bit to herself in defeat, bringing a hand to her forehead and brushing her stray hairs out of her face.

"Before you helped me to Elliot," she continued on hesitantly. "You said who you were before untying me."

There was a long pause.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asked quietly.

Tori carefully sat herself up so she could see him better. She was mulling over how to tell him.

He was avoiding eye contact, and his brows were still pinched together as he waited.

"You called yourself James," she said down to him, but then looked away. "I know that first day you mentioned I didn't need to tell you my real name and so on," she spoke gently. "I just figured you'd want to know you used another name, if you really didn't remember."

Tiberius let out a small sigh of relief.

"Oh," he said. "I thought I'd said something... I don't know. Sometimes I get aliases mixed up in my head, having a few I've used. I guess sometimes I forget when I'm... yeah..."

"I'd forget if I was in the middle of an adrenaline rush too," she snuffed her nose. "With whatever those drugs are of yours," she squinted, leaning in a bit.

"Uh-huh," he said, his eyes darting to her, watching her closely.

"What?"

"I'd just like to kindly remind you," he said, his words starting to slur. "That I need--I need it. For when Butch comes back. So don't get any ideas."

Tori scoffed at him.

"I know you need it, numbhead," she grabbed the grass he had dropped off, and delivered it to his face. As if she'd steal his drugs while he was in this condition.

Tiberius sighed.

"I don't think I'm ever going to walk without a limp again," he said, not even bothering to blow the grass away this time.

Tori sat there for a moment in silent consideration before she looked up at the stars. She leaned back on her hands so she didn't need to crane her neck as badly.

"A long time ago," she began. "I didn't think I'd be able to use my good arm after a couple bad gashes I got. Even with how bad it looked though, and with the little attention they got, I can still use it. There's moments I can tell I got hit that bad, of course," she tilted her head over to look his direction, scanning over his legs. "Much like a limp."

"But ultimately," her gaze moved back up to his face, her expression shifting to softness. "So long as it isn't life threatening, we can still be ourselves. Maybe there's a few things to adjust here and there, but in my eyes, that's just life."

Carefully she shifted her weight so that she could lift her arm, making a reach for the sun that had dipped below the horizon. She clenched her fist and all the muscles she could, feeling for the usual uncomfortable sensation from her past wound. She glared out at the horizon.

She felt compelled to talk more. She shouldn't have had that second drink.

"It's like growing older, somehow," she thought aloud, mulling this over as she lowered her arm. "I keep runnin' into people who went through hell and back so early in their lives. But just because it happened in my twenties, doesn't mean I wouldn't ever..." a yawn hit her out of nowhere, forcing her to pause for a moment. "Damn. Anyway, that doesn't mean I wouldn't ever have gone through it later. We just had to take it sooner than most."

She paused.

"I don't remember where I was going with this," she looked over at him once more, noting the grass that had yet to be blown away.

The sadness Tori saw creep into Tiberius's eyes every now and then seemed to finally be unveiled. It was like the sadness wore him, not the other way around, and though he was looking at her, it was like he was looking through her.

"Right," he said quietly, though his words were slurring regularly now.

"Sorry," his voice quivered.

He jerked his head to the side, his muscles twinging with discomfort as he did so, and he looked away, his face out of view.

She heard a faint curse before his body tensed, and he let out a quiet cry.

It came out like a whimper, and it sounded like he was desparately trying to hold it back. It wasn't until Tori more closely observed how tense he was that she realized he was likely already in pain, and crying made it hurt more.

Unfortunately, he was unsuccessful.

Not long after his shaky breaths, he let out a pained sob. She stayed quiet, not wanting to say or do anything wrong on accident. Looking to the stars, she stayed there, giving him the space to cry.

"'M sorry," he said through cries, his voice fraying at the edges. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

His hands went up to his side, where his most recent stab wound was. His fingers tensely arched around it, like he was trying to will the pain away.

"Gods," he cried. "It hurts. It still hurts."

His voice cracked, breaking into another sob, and his arms slackened, like he couldn't hold the tension anymore.

The cries turned to heaves - weary, and crackling. It took a while for his breaths to return to normal.

By then, the silence between them had gone for some time.

She wondered if he'd fallen asleep, but it didn't seem so from his breathing pattern, which was still a little erratic.

Biting her tongue, she felt guilty for wanting to break the silence. She didn't want to make him cry again.

But after some minutes uncomfortably passed, he spoke up on his own.

"I don't want to die," Tiberius whispered hoarsely.

Tori's heart began to ache.

She took a deep breath, listening to him as he spoke.

"I know it comes for us all," Tiberius continued, his voice still weak and wavering. "And it might not seem like it. But I don't want to die. I really don't."

He took in a shaky breath, sounding once again on the verge of tears.

"I don't know where my life is going, Tori," Tiberius said quietly, his words coming out less and less clear. "I don't envision a future after this. I don't picture a future after tomorrow. All I can see is running, and running, until someone catches me and I die. And I keep trying to make the most of it. But what can be made of this?"

His voice cracked, and he began to cry again, but this time talking through tears.

"It's like this is some kind of divine retribution, for every life I've ever played a part in ending," he said. "A life spent running in cowardice in exchange for all the bloodshed. And nothing to show for it. Nothing at all."

He finally moved, turning his head skyward. He raised his hands to wipe his eyes, but stopped short with a wince, dropping his hands on his ribs.

"I shouldn't have said anything," he said.

And now that his face was in view in the corner of her eye, her heart sank all the more. If he wasn't in as bad of shape as he was she could give him a hug.

Tears streaked down the sides of his face. His cheeks and nose were already reddened from the whiskey, but now his eyes were also red from tears.

"I'm... I'm saying too much," he blubbered. "I'm sorry."

More tears began to run down the sides of his face. His lip curled down and his chin softened.

"This is why I can't drink," he said. And it felt like he was trying to make a joke, but his voice broke as soon as it ended, and he frowned deeper, shutting his eyes tightly.

With a weak smile, she gently laid her hand on his. Snaking her fingers under his hand, she held it, trying to avoid too much pressure on his knuckles. She wasn’t going to let him instinctively pull his hand away, so she made sure she held it firm enough to express this. Still, she held it in such a way that if he did attempt to free himself, he could.

He slowly curled his fingers around her hand.

“I’m not the best with words, but… bear with me,” she began to speak gently, but with intention. She took in a breath, forcing her emotions back into line.

“First of all. In my eyes, there is nothing you’ve done just now that you need to apologize for. I’ve been so vulnerable with you, and it’s been what? Less than a week that we’ve been together? I promise, I understand.”

Looking at the canopy above, she thought for a moment, keeping hold of his hand as she did.

“Second,” she slowly began. “The kingdom is oppressed, like you said before. Most, dare I say all, who fight the ruling mindset…” she took a careful, slow breath in. “…like Gisa and the mages, don’t last long before they’re murdered or executed.”

“Gisa had been working for a few years undercover, even before the war broke out, fighting against the injustice,” she said, turning her gaze to him once more. “Even though she knew one day she’d be captured and executed for doing so, she fought. Even though everyone told her it was pointless, she fought. She was one of the “lucky ones” who lived longer than a few days.”

Her voice began to quake.

“Gisa changed… so many hearts and minds in the last year. Sometimes it was the people who caught us that she talked to who changed their viewpoints. Others only watched us work, staying in the shadows for fear of being associated with us. She told us to have faith that they would let us go without ratting us out. None of us believed her. But over time we started to see hearts change, and some did let us go without a word, breaking the mold.”

“And eventually we got caught,” her voice cracked at this fact. “I don’t know if my absence was predestined, but…” Tears grew in her eyes, and as much as she hated it, she left them to fall. “It led me out here, to you. One of the few people I thought I wouldn’t understand,” she chuckled through the tears.

She let a heartfelt smile form for a moment, then snuffed back some snot to continue.

“You made it out of the kingdom alive, Tiberius." It took everything in her to resist the urge to hold his hand tighter. "Everyone knows it. The king knows it, the soldiers, the nobility, the middle and lower classes… You know it, and I know it. Just because you came from a misguided path, even though you were slave to the oppression and the lies, you made it out alive. You changed, and people are able to see that change.”

Through the tears, she turned where she sat and scooted closer. She wiped her face with her free hand, then carefully held his wad of bandaged hand in both of hers, as if she were cherishing a valuable, prized possession. When she looked over at Tiberius, tears were streaming down his face again as he stared up at the sky.

“Every day you live,” she continued. “Every day you “run away,” I can guarantee you there’s people out there gaining the courage to step up because of it. People like me. People like Gisa. People like you, who figured there was no point in fighting the routine.”

With a wince, she paused. She needed to take a moment just to breathe, because her chest began to flare up.

“‘M not done with my speech yet,” she croaked. “Hold on a second.” She looked down a bit, forcing herself to focus on her breathing. She prayed that he would stay quiet and fully hear her out.

He said nothing, but his hand tightened around hers, ever so slightly. His thumb rested against the side of her hand, and it started to move, brushing gently up and down in a slow rhythm.

Once she’d regained her composure, she sat up straighter. Quietly and carefully she formed his hand into a fist, continuing to hold it with both hands.

“Every day your pathetic excuse of an ass lives is a stain upon the Moonlight Kingdom,” she said, praying he didn’t laugh and hurt himself again. “That’s my guess as to why the posters don’t have any proof behind what you truly did, because if they did… The whole kingdom would know that you, their “hero,” willingly broke free from their control.”

“That’s what you have to show for it. You and these bloody fists of yours are fighting back, even though it seems hopeless. To me, that’s not cowardly at all.”

She wiped her nose on her shoulder.

"Now I'm done," she sniffed.

Tiberius stared at her, his eyes glossy with tears. His mouth trembled in a small pout, like he was trying to keep from crying more, and eventually it was steadied.

He sniffed, and she could hear how stuffed up he'd gotten from crying.

"...I'm going to miss you," he said, barely audible.

Tori tensed up as her eyes began to brim again. He just had to go and remind her of that. She choked back a cry.

“I’m going to miss you too, Tiberius,” she said down to him, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

Sniffing again, Tiberius seemed to be struggling as his nose began to leak. He fumbled with his free hand, trying to reach up to wipe it, sniffing more intently.

"Do you... do you have a..." he started to ask, but then seemed to remember something. Struggling to sit up, he patted his pant pockets and pulled out a handkerchief.

Propped up on one arm, clearly pained, he clumsily lifted the handkerchief up to his nose and blew.

It sounded messy. Tori was glad he had a hanky.

When he finished blowing his nose, he crumpled the hanky and tossed it on the other side of his blanket and used his other arm to prop himself up.

He sat there, looking - honestly - half asleep as his arms began to tremble under his own weight. Tori prepared herself to catch him if he slipped.

Staring out into the field, he sniffed again, eyes unfocused.

"The ground... isn't moving, is it?" he asked distantly.

"It isn't," she replied with a faint smile. "I think you're tired and woozy. You should lay down and try to sleep," she patted his hand. "I'll stay up."

He sniffed again.

"Alright," he said, trying to lower himself back down, his arms quivering at his sides.

Finally, he slumped down onto the blanket, his head landing heavily.

"Wake... me," he said faintly. "When... when you... when it's your turn."

"I will, she assured. "Don't worry."

She carefully plucked the remaining blades of grass off of him from their earlier battle.

Tiberius's eyes were already closing.

"Tori," he mumbled, and she was barely able to understand him. "Thank you..."

It felt like maybe he'd meant to say more, but it was as if all he'd needed to rest was permission.

His head tilted slightly to the side as his body finally relaxed, and almost immediately, he fell asleep.

With a gentle huff and a smile , she ever so carefully pushed his bangs to the side of his forehead. He had gotten them a bit gross with the tears somehow. The bandaging wasn’t helping with the messiness, but she’d have to live with it.

She quietly turned her gaze to the stars again, cherishing what little time she had with him as night fell upon them.

It was warm. James's head throbbed with a headache that pierced through his skull, building with pressure right between his eyes. Nausea woke him with a sickening gurgle in his gut, and when his eyes fluttered open, they quickly pinched shut when he was met with daylight; the full force of the morning sun.

Gritting his teeth, James forced his eyes open again, blearily peering up at the bright blue sky through slitted eyes. A string of confusion carried over from his first conscious moments that he couldn't quite trace the answers to until it finally occured to him that it was, indeed morning, and contrary to expectation, Tori hadn't woken him before sunrise.

He was supposed to have taken a shift on watch, but she'd let him sleep in. Hadn't she?

Blinking harder, eyes stinging and tearing up from the light, he forced himself to sit up.

Gods.

It was coming back to him slowly. They'd stopped for the night, and James had been exhausted. After brushing down Elliot, he'd gone to lie down, and then Tori offered - no - insisted he had a drink to take the edge off.

From what he could vaguely remember, it had. But now it left him with a hangover.

Sighing, he squinted out into the morning light, noting the placement of the sun in the sky. Fortunately, it looked like it had only come up within the past hour, so they hadn't lost too much time. But unfortunately, for Tori, it meant he'd slept through any nighttime hours she could've used to sleep.

Clearly, she'd done this on purpose. While he appreciated the gesture, it wasn't practical in the long-term.

They both needed sleep, and though it was difficult to fall asleep and stay asleep, they at least had to try. They couldn't keep sleeping one every other day, waiting until they each collapsed after a full 48 hours of wakefulness. It wasn't going to work. James knew what it was like to push himself past his limits, but even in the army, there was a certain point where sleeplessness and delirium seriously hindered your judgement and ability to fight or defend.

If they kept going like this, they'd both get torn to shreds when Butch found them again.

Lifting his hand to rub his eyes, he tried not to think too hard on their impending conflict.

He looked around until his eyes landed on Tori, and both Elliot and Brenna standing just a few feet from her.

Tori's back was turned from him, and she was hunched over something in her lap, elbows askew. Though it took his eyes a moment to adjust, he could make out enough to see she had darker markings running down her shoulders and arms - formerly hidden by her long-sleeved shirt. At present, she was in some kind of under-shirt, it seemed, lacking sleeves.

He assumed they were tattoos, based on what little he could gather from the distance and the grade of discoloration. She'd mentioned Gisa had a "group," but it was possible that was merely Tori's way of saying it was a gang. That might explain the tattoos, if they weren't for other reasons. He supposed people memorialized all sorts of things on their bodies for various reasons. It wasn't his place to ask.

Taking one more moment of peace to himself, he propped himself up with one arm, looking out over the grassy field and the sparse population of trees.

Elliot lifted his head from his grazing the moment James gave him any amount of attention, and Brenna seemed to lift her head up curiously in turn.

Even though Brenna was merely a horse, there was still something inside James that recoiled at her movement. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up a bit, but James tried to shake off the sensation, aware that it wasn't grounded in reality.

He ran his fingers into the grass, pulling at it just to feel something more tangible.

It was then that he remembered his hand was injured - or, rather, his knuckles were still split open from two nights prior.

His knuckles stung under the bandages, and he could feel the pull of scabbing skin scraping underneath it. Letting his fingers relax, he looked back up at Tori, who hadn't visibly acknowledged his existence.

Either she was ignoring him, or she hadn't even paid him any mind.

"We can't keep doing this," James said, testing his voice soon after waking. It was rough.

Her head tilted his direction a bit at him speaking. She didn't fully turn his way though.

"We both need to get sleep," James said. "We need to actually sleep in shifts."

With a weary sigh, she set what looked to be her button-up to the side, neatly folded. She turned his way.

"I'll have you know I didn't do it on purpose," she said with a deep frown, eying him. "I was going to wake you up a couple hours ago, but I wasn't watching the time and it was already practically dawn."

James sighed wearily.

His head hurt far too much to question whether she was fibbing or not, but he decided it was for the best to simply take her at her word regardless.

"Well," he said rubbing his eyes again. "Let's... not do that again. It's going to be a long day for you, now. Maybe I can take first shift from now on. Then you don't have to worry about keeping time."

"That may be for the best," she said sheepishly. "You're..." she drifted off, in thought. She seemed to be thinking of the words to say. "...You're more organized about that sort of thing than I am," she said with a weak smile.

"At least I patched my shirt up in the meantime, so I was able to stay awake. I'll do better tonight," she said.

"Alright," was all James said. He didn't think there was more to say.

"I can help you up," Tori began. She was already getting to her feet. "We should go soon."

There she stood over him, looming.

Suddenly in her shadow, James found himself squinting up at her.

"I... uh..." he hesitated, suddenly unable to find words as his mind seemed to lag.

"Unless you need a moment," she said slowly, staring at him like Elliot usually did.

He rubbed at his face again, trying to will away the headache that was getting worse.

"I just need... some water," he said.

Tori hummed in understanding. Promptly she retrieved his canteen from Elliot, leaving him subjected to the sunlight. She returned moments later and handed it to him.

He took it with a small nod of thanks, and he took a long drink. Though the water was warm like the rest of the air around him, it at least soothed his dry throat, and hopefully it'd help begin the process of rehydrating his system.

It was going to be a rough day for both of them, though, it seemed.

Tori took a deep breath, it sounded like.

"I'm going to take a wild guess," she stated, her expression going deadpan as she watched him. "You don't drink 'cause you're a lightweight," she said, closing her eyes like a long blink while she folded her arms. Her eyes opened again, peering down at him. "It's either that or it tastes bad," she chuckled to herself, breaking the deadpan look she had.

James looked out over the field, letting out a very long sigh.

"Yeah, yeah," he said faintly. "Get it all out now."

"Hey," she quickly protested. "I'm just saying. I'd rather know that before I let you chug my booze. I'm sure it helped you sleep but I'd have a crazy headache if I was you," she said. "Do you?"

"Yes," he mumbled. "I... don't remember if I tried to tell you or not."

She simply sighed, shaking her head.

"It's whatever. I'm not letting you do that ever again though," she snorted. "You would not shut up."

Tori sat down there beside him. It was probably so he didn't need to crane his neck to glare at her. She seemed to know what she was doing.

"It was nice though, even though you got a bit depressed at one point," she rested her chin in her hand and searched his face.

He stared at her blankly, still squinting from the sunlight.

Frankly, it didn't sound like she was exaggerating, but he also wasn't inclined to pry. Whatever he said last night, he wasn't sure he wanted to know, especially if it got "depressing." If anything, it'd only dig up the conversation a second time, and he wasn't sure he wanted to have it while sober, whatever it was.

"You look like you don't believe me."

"I do," he said, before she could go on to say more. "I'm just... my head hurts, is all."

"Sorry," she grew quieter, passing a weak smile his way. "Maybe later then, if you want to know anything. I have a feeling you don't remember much, but it's ok."

James looked away, trying to school his features so nothing more than pain would show.

"It's... it's fine," he said. "We should get moving, like you said. I'll take that offer for help getting up now."

Tori hummed in understanding, but something else seemed to be on her mind in the background.

Before he had a chance to think on it, he felt her calloused hand cup over his forehead. It felt like an ocean breeze, cool to the touch. She held her hand there, avoiding the scar on his brow.

His brows pinched inward at the touch, but her palm was surprisingly cool considering the summer heat. Poor circulation, maybe.

He squinted at her, his expression pained.

"I don't have a fever," he muttered.

With a roll of the eyes she lifted her hand and proceeded to wipe the sweat and grease off on her pant leg.

"I wanted to get a feel for how much you weren't telling me," she said, matter of fact. She folded her arms tightly and began tapping a finger in the blank spaces of her tattoos. "'My head hurts' with you could mean anything from a deathly fever or a plain old headache. If I hadn't seen your leg when Oliver rebandaged you, you'd probably have told me it was just 'a scratch,'" she huffed down at him.

At that, James's lips pulled into a frown.

"You... saw it," he said slowly, already regretting saying it out loud.

Not wanting to dwell on the state his leg was in, he was quick to move on.

"I'm not lying," he said, this time more steady. He looked at her hand, squinting again.

"Your hands are cold," he commented.

Her eyes made a glint in the sun as she looked his way.

"They are average temperature according to me," she said, sticking her tongue out at him. "So you're just telling me you do have a hot head."

She stood up before he could say anything, and then bent down to help him up with her arm.

Taking the help, he got to his feet, nodding silently in thanks.

She stood there for a moment letting him stabilize himself.

"I couldn't find any sticks the other day, by the way. I'm still looking, so for now just let me know if you need help walkin'," she mumbled.

He hummed in agreement, offering no more words as he proceeded to reserve all of his internal fortitude for the walk to Elliot and the ride to come.

Slowly, he made his way to his horse. Or, rather, he took a few steps and then whistled. Elliot closed the rest of the distance quickly, and James sighed softly in relief as he reached back, grabbing his blanket off the ground, and he stuffed it back onto the saddle.

Once the blanket was sufficiently secured, he managed to jump into the saddle, despite how much the movement made his head spin.

By the time he was settled atop Elliot, Tori was already sitting in Brenna's saddle, watching him. It looked like she'd been waiting. Though there was no telling how long, it seemed she'd been ready to go for a bit judging from the impatient tapping of her fingers on the reins.

James took Elliot's reins, steadying himself in the saddle.

"So... from here to the Wilds, then?" he asked.

Tori simply nodded in response.

He sighed, turning Elliot eastward. With a brief glance back at Tori over his shoulder, he started forward, and she followed behind.

The day passed by slowly.

The sun melted across the clear blue sky, beating down on them at any given opportunity. For the greater half of their travels, the trees offered little reprieve as they populated the land sparsely, and their arms reached out with thin leaves.

Fortunately, they were at least able to follow the curve of the lake, never straying too far from the water as they began their trek northward. Eventually, the trees began to thicken, and travel slowed as it took more effort to weave between them on horseback, and it took more intention to avoid any dips or holes.

In the cover of more shade, there was some relief from the heat as the sun finally began to sink in the sky, inching toward the horizon.

And James was grateful the day was soon coming to an end. Not only for himself, but for Tori's sake - because he knew at this juncture, she hadn't slept in the past two days. Every once in a while he would catch her swaying in the saddle, eyes half open and sometimes fully closed. He'd bring her to with a brisk call back to her, but he knew she was struggling to stay awake just as much as she was struggling to stay aloft.

Though antsy about Butch's existence and inevitable pursuit, James decided to call it a night early, and Tori didn't seem to even have the awareness to resist. The moment he announced they would stop for the night, he could see the visible slump of relief in her shoulders. Her body must've been aching for rest.

Without hesitation, he forced his own aching body to move with as much haste as he could muster. When Elliot stopped beneath the shade of a large willow, James quickly climbed down and took his blanket with him.

They were only a few yards away from the water, but James knew Tori would be more preoccupied with closing her eyes.

Throwing out the blanket in the air in front of him, he watched it flutter onto the bed of grass around them, laying perfectly flat.

By that point, Tori was already on her feet, lumbering towards him, her eyes set on the ground. Backing away, he watched as she flopped forward, barely even catching herself on the way down to the earth.

Face-down in the blanket, Tori laid prone while James stood over her.

"Sleep well," he said, knowing it was unecessary to say so, but feeling compelled to communicate regardless.

She rolled onto her back and stared up at him.

"I haven't eaten in so long," she groaned.

"Ah," James said with a click of his tongue. He looked over to Elliot, whistling him over. When Elliot was at his side, he reached into the saddle bag, pulling out the bag of biscuits.

Tori's hands were held out, begging.

With a small huff of amusement, James set the bag in her hands. As Tori dug into the bag without hesitation, James found himself staring down at her. As she stuffed her cheeks with biscuits, hardly pausing to chew, his attention landed on her hair, which had helplessly fallen out of the braids they'd been in prior. Her hair was sticking out of the ties, and she had several loose pieces twisting around her face and the sides of her head. The back of her head was the worst, though, where about half of her hair had started to tangle up, fallen into its own nest of knots.

Brows furrowing, James left Tori to food consumption as he turned and began to dig into his bag once more until he found his comb. Clearing away some hairs formerly caught in its teeth by tossing them to the side, he grabbed his canteen as well before turning back to Tori, sitting beside her.

"Your hair's a mess," he said simply, not meaning it as an offense, but simply pointing out what was. "Would you like me to fix it while you eat?"

It seemed to take her a moment to process what he'd said before she turned as if she was spooked.

"Huh? Oh," she said with her mouth full. "That would be nice, but if yer hands start hurtin'... don't worry about it."

"It's far less strenuous to braid than it is to pummel," James said. "I'll be fine."

With the slowest nod, Tori scooted herself back so he could reach. She continued to stuff her face.

"Thank you," he said simply, reaching around to untie one of the braids.

With Tori preoccupied, James tried to be quick about it. Fortunately, he still had daylight on his side, so he wasn't doing it blind in the dark like he was before. That made it infinitely easier as he carefully undid each braid and combed through her hair, starting at the bottom, going up.

Thankfully, her hair was less knotted than it was the first time, so he was able to split it into sections within a few minutes, already starting the braids again.

"Same thing as last time?" he asked faintly.

He had a feeling she was too tired to care, but he still asked.

She hummed, likely out of exhaustion rather than thought.

"Yeah," she said, catching herself leaning over and sitting upright again.

"Alright," he said. Knowing she wanted to sleep as soon as possible, he got to it, starting at the crown of her head.

Expecting Tori to eat in silence, James let himself focus deeply, letting his fingers work the familiar pattern with confidence, even if they still ached. He found himself already at the base of her neck when Tori's voice cut through his focus.

"Hey," she mumbled through her food. "Where'd you get Elliot, anyhow? Was he from the military or something?"

James blinked, not quite sure how to respond to the unexpected question.

He continued braiding before he said anything.

"He was," James said. "More or less."

She hummed, vaguely nodding with her head trapped in his hands.

"Doesn't seem like it to me, but I 'unno..." she mumbled again, proceeding to hum to herself.

"Is it because of Elliot's gentle nature?" James asked with a hint of amusement.

She snorted at that.

"No. He's got the loyalty, but there's something else I can't place," she said quietly, her voice more clear without food in it. After a small pause, she spoke again. "You say more or less, but I don't think I believe that."

James narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at the back of her head, but finished out the braid. He started tying it off.

Only one more half of her head to go.

"He was a gift," James said, deciding to frame it like he was relenting, leaning more into the truth. "From someone in the military. So it's close enough."

"Was Elliot even in the damn war, Tiberius? Yes or no," she said, sounding short.

James wasn't sure what warranted her annoyance, but she was also exhausted, which was more than enough reason for her to have a short fuse.

"No," James answered plainly.

With a huff, she stayed still for a moment.

"Thank you," she said more gently.

James started braiding the other half of her hair, sectioning it off once more.

"Sure," he said faintly.

"Same person for the pocketwatch?" she asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

James swallowed, his jaw clencing for a moment as he looked down, grateful that Tori couldn't see.

"No," he said, forcing his eyes back up to resume braiding.

"I see," was all she said.

At that, Tori's sudden onslaught of questions stopped, and she fell to silence. Hoping that meant she was done or otherwise dozing off, James decided to focus once more, trying to finish it quickly.

Again, he was at the back of her head when she spoke again.

"I figure this someone who gifted you Elliot is pretty special, given that you still have Elliot to this day," she stated to the empty air in front of her. "What kind of person were they?"

James slowed in the braiding.

She wasn't going to let this go, was she? It was a seemingly innocuous question, but she didn't seem to want to take a simple answer. She kept digging for more.

He clenched his teeth again, trying to think of a way to deter her from prying.

Sometimes cutting to it was the best option.

"The kind to stab me in the back in the end," he said cooly, finishing off the braid.

For a moment, she sat there unmoving. James tied off the braid in silence, and then tucked both braids over each shoulder, telling her he was done.

Her head immediately turned, her eyes flicking to meet his, searching.

There was a mix of emotions swirling in her eyes as they locked with his. Even through the exhaustion, he could see the confusion, the anger, and the empathy mingling together as one. The stubborness he'd heard in her voice showed just as well in her face as she refused to look away, now turning around fully to face him squarely.

Leaning away somewhat involuntarily, James watched her with a sense of unease.

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate that she cared. But he'd only known her some days, and he didn't really want to relive the worst days of his life recalling the one person she somehow managed to put a finger on from his past.

He looked to the side, not sure what else to say as she stared at him expectantly.

It felt like she wanted more, but there wasn't more to say.

Several long seconds drew out before Tori broke the silence between them.

"If it's that bad, you don't need to tell me," she said, breaking her stare to look aside at the biscuit bag. "I've got my share of those memories. I won't force you to tell me," she said quietly.

James hesitated.

"It's... a long story I'm not ready to tell," he said quietly, looking to the ground.

Tori picked at the dirt under her nails for a moment in silence.

"I understand. I'm sorry for being nosey," she said weakly.

"Don't worry about it," James said.

Some grass landed in his lap.

"Now think about Elliot and how cute he is right now instead."

James huffed lightly.

"...Thanks," he said. "I'll do that."

A long yawn finally broke from Tori.

"You better..." she said wearily.

James grinned weakly, watching her still stubbornly fight against sleep, seemingly for no reason.

Another yawn.

"Damn it," she groaned. She'd noticed his look too. "Cut it out with that magical crap you're doing to me," she tried joking, but the exhaustion was overpowering.

James's brows furrowed as his smile grew slightly.

"Magic...?" he huffed a weak laugh. "I'm not doing anything."

She swayed a bit in his direction, looking more precarious this time.

When it looked like she wasn't going to react fast enough to catch herself, his arms shot out and he caught her, keeping her from colliding into him.

Slowly pushing her face away from his chest, he held her at the shoulders, at arms' length.

He let go hesitantly.

"You should lie down," he said frankly.

"But my record..."

"But nothing," James interjected. "You almost fell over. Listen to what your body needs and lie down."

Begrudgingly she let herself gently collapse right there in front of him.

"No," she limply threw another fist full of grass at him.

"This is childish," James teased. "You know that, right?"

She simply groaned as her eyes closed.

"Mmhmm," she mumbled, getting herself comfortable. An eye peeked open, checking if he was still watching. Her eyelids were struggling to stay open.

Of course, he was.

"Still here," he said.

She opened her mouth to speak, but in that moment, she passed out. As her peering eye fell shut and her head sank into the blanket, she had finally succumbed to sleep.

Finally left with silence, James carefully got to his feet and let Tori rest in peace.

He didn't know what Tori had been trying to accomplish by digging into his past. Maybe it was merely that she'd expected a simple answer to a simple question, and when she got a vague one, she got suspicious.

He couldn't blame her for the curiosity, but he had to admit that even though he did trust her greatly after having risked their lives for one another, it was an entirely different matter to discuss sensitive things from the past. Tori had shown a level of candid transparency about her own history that James admired, but he couldn't convince himself to share in that same openness.

Frankly, when he looked back at his life, he still couldn't make much sense of it. He didn't regret what he did in his last moments in the kingdom, but everything before and after felt like staring into a black hole.

That said, he kept himself busy that night on his watch to keep from staring into it for too long.

He took account of their inventory. Reorganized their things. Armed himself with several weapons hidden on his person, and took the time to properly wrap his hands, since he hadn't had a chance to for the fight prior.

By the time half the night had passed away, James was well aware of where they were going and felt more prepared to face Butch the day he came. He still didn't know about the group of men that had Tori worried, but frankly, Butch felt like the equivalent of ten men combined, so James found himself equally paranoid about both.

When he woke Tori, she once again woke with a start, but he managed to calm her faster than the nights prior. Still bleary, she took a few moments to truly come to, and when he was sure she was conscious and alert, he took the time to lie down and rest for the night.

He didn't get much sleep, but some was more than nothing, and even when he woke up exhausted and in pain, he tried to count his blessings.

He was still alive. Tori was still alive. Elliot was miraculously unharmed. They had two horses. Travel was faster.

It was going to be okay. That's what he had to keep telling himself.

And that carried him through the next day. And the next. And the next.

It had been five days since their encounter with the hunters, and finally, James felt some improvement in his physical frame. Though he was still in constant pain, it had gotten to a point where it was more bearable, and not all movements hurt as much to do.

Walking, at least, felt more manageable, and less like he might pass out within a few minutes of being on his feet. He could carry on with a limp, if he had to, even if it was likely slowing down his healing process to do so.

Food supplies were decent, and neither he nor Tori were starving by any means. Still, their portions were meager, but it was enough to sustain them through the day. And they were able to fill up on water at the lake's edge one more time before they started truly northward, heading towards the true thick of the wilds.

If James was honest, he wasn't very fond of the idea of passing through the wilds. He'd passed through them once before, in the war, and it had been hellish dealing with the creatures in the thick of it. Back then, he'd had a whole troop of soldiers with him to fend off the beasts. This time, he and Tori only had each other and their horses.

It made James nervous.

That night, James and Tori stopped a few mere miles from the border of the wilds.

The sun was setting quickly, and after they got some food in their stomachs, James scanned the area for the hundredth time, still filled with unease.

The forest was growing thick, and wild. The horses were starting to have a difficult time moving through the thick undergrowth, and James knew they'd either have to condemn themselves to traveling a lot slower or they'd have to condemn themselves to the only main road heading north. Neither were a preferable option, and neither provided safety. It was just a matter of what dangers they'd rather face; the fury of the beasts in the forests, or the passion of the bounty hunters at their heels on the road.

The trees were getting taller, and spindly. Bushy trees were replaced with pines and firs, and soon they'd pass through the thick redwoods, which would tower over them.

Tori seemed to be mildly fascinated by the subtle change in fauna, but James found himself paying less attention to the trees and more attention to anything that moved.

Just because they were near the border didn't mean that beasts cared about boundary lines.

He stood on his feet, leaning against one of the tall trees beside them, looking out into the darkening forest on guard. Tori had sat down on the blanket, assuming her first shift of sleep while he stayed up.

"Goodnight," James said quietly, in what was now becoming a small repeating pattern.

"Goodnight," she limply waved, rolling into the usual position on her stomach that she slept in.

Soon thereafter, she was asleep.

James then proceeded to pace the area, eyes up, alert, and constantly taking in the details around him.

There was Tori, Elliot, and Brenna. The moon was waxing again, a little brighter than the last few nights, and providing just enough light to see dimly through the shade of the trees.

He proceeded to stretch and pace off and on for the next hour, finding himself in a cycle of movement, determined to maintain some level of strength and mobility despite all of his injuries.

By the time he rounded the area for probably the twentieth time, he couldn't help but feel like something was wrong. It wasn't something he could explain - just a sinking in his gut that he'd learned over the past year not to question.

He began to inch towards Tori on quiet feet, not wanting to startle her, but not wanting to draw attention to himself either.

He was only a few feet from her when he saw a glint of metal shining through the trees ahead of him.

Not questioning the instinct that took over, he dove at Tori's feet, landing with an arm on top of her, holding her down.

With a heavy whoosh overhead, an axe went flying just inches above them.

He pulled his arm away, knowing Tori was awake by now.

Out of the shadows of the trees, Butch's massive silhouette appeared, another gleaming blade in hand. He approached with heavy footfalls, and his face was shadowed in the darkness.

James jumped to his feet, stepping in front of Tori, and he ripped the syringe out of his pocket, rapidly pulling off the cap. He didn't have time to pick a vein. Instead, he jabbed it into his thigh, pressing the fullness of the contents into his system.

Ripping the syringe out, he tossed it to the side and pulled out a dagger.

By the gods, it felt insufficient against this monster.

"Would you look at that," Butch's voice carried through the darkness, rough, and unfettered. "The little dog has a new pet."

James felt Tori get up behind him.

Butch didn't approach right away, and it had James on edge.

It wasn't like Butch to hold back. He was always quick about things, unlike his former partner.

Unless Butch was... changing his ways.

James swallowed thickly, and in the same instance, the rush he felt the first time when the lumshade entered his system hit again: but this time, it was like running into a wall.

The pain in his body receded in an instant, and in the same momeny, James felt nothing but a focused, heightened calm.

He lowered his chin, glaring up at Butch's shadow with a confidence he knew he hadn't earned.

"Would you look at that," James echoed, patterning his response as a mirror. "The fallen giant can't accept defeat."

Butch's teeth flashed yellow in the moonlight, his lips pulled back in a smile as his lower jaw jutted out from his underbite.

"Alright, Tiberius," Butch said lowly. "No more fun and games, now."

With a powerful thrust of his legs, Butch ran forward.

Oh, Great Gardener, she didn’t like when she couldn’t shut someone up.

In the few moments of cocky conversation between Tiberius and Butch, Tori steeled herself for the inevitable rush from the monster. She had her knife in hand and the shotgun slung across her back. She was as ready as she could be even though she didn’t want to admit it.

As expected, the man finally broke from his stance at the last comment from Tiberius, rushing forward.

Her and Tiberius instinctively dodged to each side as he swung.

She barely saw the axe move, it was that quick. The blade cut through the air with an inhuman force, the loudness of the whoosh telling her so.

Tiberius narrowly dodged, but with the momentum Butch had, she ducked down just in time to avoid the remainder of his swing that came back for her.

She couldn’t even get a hit in of her own, she was that focused on dodging. If he hit her anywhere with the force he had, the damage would be irreparable and incapacitate her. As much as she hated being the flea of the fight, she accepted it, willing herself into the defensive mindset.

Pushing with all her might, she forced her legs down into the earth. She used this energy to leap backward, giving herself a few feet of space.

In the moment Butch’s back turned, she saw Tiberius’s shadow lash out, swiping at the man’s back. Butch didn’t recoil at all.

Tori reached for the shotgun, swinging it under her arm and into position. If she got herself far enough away, she could get a shot in at his face and blind him.

With a shrill whistle, Butch whipped around, and to her dismay his hand clapped around Tiberius's wrist with a click, and instead of pulling away, Tiberius was yanked backwards, his wrists attatched by a cuff. Tiberius stumbled back, slamming into the tree behind him.

When Butch pulled away, Tori saw that Tiberius was cuffed to a tree branch.

And just as he yanked at the cuffs, Tori could hear the dogs coming for him, barking and snarling as they came bounding through the trees.

Butch whirled around to face her.

Tori had begun to aim for Butch’s moonlit frame. Just as he came for her, the dogs flew out of the underbrush, straight for Tiberius.

With a swear, she shot for the dogs, the crack echoing underneath the trees.

Butch was filled with pellets, she knew that much. She heard it, but didn’t have time to process it as she dodged a swing. And another.

She couldn’t see much past Butch for a moment. When she managed to leap to the side for a dodge, she saw Tiberius had used the cuff to pull himself up, evading a loud snap from one of the dogs at his already injured leg.

Her view obscured again.

The air seemed to tug at her shirt, the blade barely missing this time as she sucked her shoulder in.

He was getting closer and closer with every frenzied swing. She needed to hurry this up or he’d start to learn her reactions.

Every few swings, she willed herself backward, praying she didn’t hit something. She took every chance she could to get a glimpse of the trees, but his swings ultimately broke this concentration.

Through her defenses, a dog squealed out, piercing her ears.

She didn’t know what Tiberius had done to cause such a reaction, but it didn’t matter. If she continued to dodge well enough, maybe the big man would run out of energy. If she kept this up, Tiberius would… No. They would both make it out. She’d make sure of it.

There was a tug at her sleeve. The blade barely grazed her upper arm but the pain didn’t register.

Tori’s heel hit something solid.

No.

Before she could cuss, she had to lift the shotgun as a guard.

The force that hit her was indescribable. The shotgun snapped in two, but thankfully it broke the swing enough that she wasn’t hit. She let the axe and shotgun flow to the side.

Her knife flew out.

Before she knew it, Butch had grabbed her arm. She managed to dig the blade into his wrist, enough that any normal man would’ve let go, but it didn’t phase him in the slightest.

“Get the hell off of me!” she snarled. Her other hand reached for her spare knife, but just as she did, he grabbed her other wrist. Tightening his grip like a noose, pain shot up her arms as her hands involuntarily gave up on their grip.

With a strangled cry, her knife dropped to the ground. Even through the adrenaline, she felt things breaking.

"That's enough," Butch said lowly, slamming her against the tree trunk.

Her skull knocked against the tree with a hard thunk, and just as her vision went white, he let go of her wrist and wrapped his meaty hands around her throat, holding her up at her neck.

She was going to die here.

"No!" Tori heard Tiberius shout.

His voice frayed. Desperate. Another dog yelped in what sounded like pain, but Butch didn't even flinch.

His grip cut off everything. Her breath, the blood flow, her thoughts. It all came to a grinding halt.

Limply, she attempted to lift her free arm.

Nothing happened.

Maybe this was the best way to go. Unconscious. If it was Reed, she’d be getting filleted, forced to feel it. But this… Somehow this was better.

She didn’t want to have to die looking at Butch’s disgusting face, so she forced her gaze elsewhere.

Her vision grew dark, the spots crowding her vision, taking away the stars through the trees she’d grown to love over the years.

Just when she thought death would take her, suddenly Butch's grip began to loosen, and air rushed into her lungs.

For a moment, her whole body fumbled in Butch's hands, like he was grasping for her, and then something else. Eventually, he let go of her completely, and her whole body fell to the ground with a thump.

The world shook and spun around her as her spotty vision blurred, catching the hasty movement of Butch's giant shadow as he fell to his knees and growled.

It sounded like words were exchanged, but they didn't register. She could barely comprehend the intermingling of both Butch and presumably Tiberius's bodies in the dark, the latter getting swallowed up by Butch's figure.

A gunshot rang out through the night, loud, echoing off the trees surrounding them.

She couldn't keep herself awake any longer.

She was being moved.

Her eyes hadn’t opened yet, but she could feel it happening. Her knees were gently drawn upward as her back lifted from the dirt. Her head fell forward once propped up. Soon she was pressed close to someone's chest.

Everything felt… muffled.

It sounded like the person spoke to her, but she couldn’t process it in time for anything to make sense. All she could really make out was their heartbeat, pounding at a high pace.

Where was she?

She felt her hanging arm be moved to her chest, and a calloused hand wrap around hers, holding it tight.

”Tori,” they urged. Their voice sounded thick and deep like Tiberius’s, but it was… different. More ragged.

It was familiar.

The gears in her brain slowly started to turn, breaking through the mindless and empty state she was floating in.

Reality began to hang down upon her every bone, pulling at her, refusing to let her go. Soon, sharp burning sensations grew in her wrists, blending together. The back of her head and her spine soon joined her arms, equally as pained. Everything ached. Gravity felt awful.

It all happened so fast. When did she black out? How long ago? Where was Tiberius? There was a gunshot at one point.

She felt for any strength she had inside of her and channeled it toward her face.

Her eyes slowly opened, searching for who it was that spoke. Even though they were right there, and even though she knew who it was holding her so dearly.

Moonlight caressed his features, revealing his deeply furrowed brow and the strong bridge of his nose. His hair was messier than when she saw him last, and he had some stubble now.

Jeremy.

She had left him without an explanation weeks ago, then chased out of the area by what she recognized as a spattering of his group and Kelsie's. She was forced to leave Gisa's body behind. Alabaster had corralled her into Ruddlan. She found Tiberius. They ran across the plains.

So much had happened since then.

How did he find her?

When she met his gaze, tears started forming in her eyes. She could barely breathe, but she took a long breath in anyway, her throat squeaking a bit.

At the moment, this close to death, she didn’t care about being mad at him for following her all this way, or mad at him for leading her off to spend time with her before her group was ambushed. They hadn't been able to talk much at all before then.

Weakly, she squeezed his hand.

Something sparkled in his eyes. He seemed to mouth words, but they were inaudible. Before she knew it, she was pulled even further into the embrace, her head tucked up against his chest.

“You’re ok,” his voice cracked. “You’re ok. I’m here.” He hushed, his hand smoothed over her hair, then held her head close.

He was trembling.

For a moment, she felt safe in his arms.

And then that moment ended.

She fell abruptly back down to the ground as Jeremy was forcefully ripped away, pulled up and then down, his body slamming to the ground.

With Tiberius throwing himself on top of him.

She blinked, barely able to comprehend what had happened.

Jeremy let out a surprised, pained groan as Tiberius's elbow connected with Jeremy's gut. He hadn't a moment to say anything either, because Tiberius then punched Jeremy in the face.

Tori had seen Tiberius like this before, just a few days ago.

He was on some kind of adrenaline high, and even in the darkness, she could see it in his eyes. The dead-set focus, the enlarged pupils, and the unrelenting rage.

Tiberius thought Jeremy was an enemy, and he was treating him like one.

Jeremy didn’t have any information on her and Tiberius’s companionship. If he recognized him at all, on top of being violently pulled away from her, Jeremy was going to retaliate against an enemy as well.

Tiberius's fists kept flying. It was by the third or fourth punch that Jeremy seemed to finally get his bearings and he started to fight back.

The two of them rolled on the forest floor, bodies thrashing, fists flying, wrestling one another. She knew, at least, for Tiberius, he was likely aiming for: to the death.

A glint of moonlight shone across Jeremy’s teeth. He was snarling up at Tiberius, an animalistic look in his expression.

A faint crack sounded as Jeremy’s fist hit Tiberius square in the nose.

She flinched, horror sinking in. Every single scenario that flashed through her mind had a morbid end.

They’d both kill each other if she didn’t act.

With a pained cry, she forced any kind of sound past her swollen throat. Barely anything came out besides a rasp of pain. She tried to sit up from this position on her back, but couldn’t.

Another crack sounded, deeper, and hollowed.

She had to stop them. Now.

If her voice wouldn’t work, she’d stand. She had to.

Gritting her teeth, she rolled herself onto her stomach, then got onto her hands and knees.

There was a sickening air about Tiberius, the same air that he had when killing Reed. The muscles in her face grew tight and pained as she stood.

The two of them didn’t notice her approach overhead until too late.

There was a fury in her expression, one she hadn’t felt in her face since facing Kelsie. She teetered there, her fists tight at her side. She watched, waiting for the nearest moment she could to strike.

Jeremy was flipped onto his back in that moment, Tiberius sat on top of him, holding him down. Now on his back, Jeremy finally noticed her standing over them. His eyes widened in surprise, soon rolling back as Tiberius landed a hit to his jaw.

There.

His back was open.

Steeled for the inevitable fight back, Tori threw herself on top of Tiberius, pulling him into a headlock. Her arms drew taut with practiced perfection. She didn’t expect him to go down without a fight, but she knew he wasn’t going to listen to any reason.

With all her might, she pinched his neck in her hold. If there was one thing she could be good at, it was a chokehold. Now that she was on him, all she had to do was survive long enough to knock him out.

Tiberius stumbled, catching himself with her weight, hands on either side of Jeremy's head. With a thrash, he threw himself to the side, rolling onto the ground, like he was trying to roll on top of her. She caught herself with her legs, pushing back and pressing him into the ground.

Jeremy hadn't moved, laying there in shock staring at her.

Her arms locked tighter, and she could see Tiberius's hands desperately feeling for a weapon at his side. Tiberius rasped, his movements growing shaky and slow.

Her gaze met Jeremy’s, who seemed to understand her glare.

Tiberius had a dagger in his hand, but as he jabbed into the air with it, he missed Tori by a few inches.

He was fighting blind. He probably didn't even know Tori was the one on his back.

Tiberius continued to struggle, jabbing blindly at the air, clawing at her arms. She could feel the desperation in every jerking movement.

With a heavy weight, Jeremy landed on him, slamming Tiberius’s arm harsh into the ground with his knee. He swiftly got the other arm under control.

Tiberius let out one last broken cry before his body finally gave, going limp. His head hung, dipping into the grass below, and his fighting came to an end.

For a solid few seconds, the two of them sat there in deathly silence, heaving their lungs out. Jeremy clutched his ribs, his gaze shifting from Tiberius to Tori. His mouth hung open, gasping for air. Blood was dripping from his nose and mouth. It looked like he had a dark spot in his blonde hair that was growing.

Tori’s breath was cracking and catching. It hurt so much. Every inhale. Every exhale.

She felt something warm and wet on her chest, and her arm. It felt like Tiberius landed a hit on her leg too, but the pain hadn't registered yet, just the growing warmth of blood sweeping through her clothing.

Her arms started to shake as she loosened her grip. Tiberius slid from her hold and slumped headfirst into the ground, revealing a large, glimmering gash across his back.

Her eyes widened in horror, not even caring about her now ruined shirt.

Practically ignoring Jeremy’s stunned stare as he watched her, she shakily got her hands oriented over the worst of the gash and applied pressure, praying the bleeding stopped. It felt deep. It continued to bleed through her hands.

She wasn’t able to speak. She couldn’t call for Elliot. She wasn't able to yell at Jeremy, or Tiberius, to stop. She couldn’t do anything.

Tears fell as she wailed over him out of frustration and sorrow. Her sobs weren't vocalizing, turned into pained rasping and rushing air.

Even though it had been a small number of days since they met, she’d made a genuine friend of Tiberius. She didn’t want to lose another one so soon. Everyone practically wanted him dead, regardless of the reward that he was brought in alive.

Even though she knew she couldn’t lift him from death’s undying reach for forever, she cried.

Even though he was destined to die like this someday, she cried.

Even though she hadn’t heard his story, as broken as the plot was at times, she cried.

Eventually, Jeremy had vanished from her view while she mourned. She wasn’t sure where he went or what he was doing, but it didn’t matter. Nothing seemed to matter anymore.

He returned to her side with his bag and a med kit in hand. Everything needed to close the wound and bandage him was on top. He set it down carefully, then turned to her.

His oddly calm hand rested on one of hers, holding it steady as she trembled.

“He needs stitches,” he spoke, his voice low and gentle, but commanding. “You’re shaking.”

She knew this already, nodding through her tears. Jeremy was implying he’d do it, but still she feared removing her hands. She felt as though she was all that was holding Tiberius together.

In the haze that followed, she realized that Jeremy had moved her out of the way, her hands useless in her lap. All she could find herself watching was Tiberius’s breathing. It was already hard to see in the dim light, and Jeremy had shifted close, leaning over him to cut the irreparable shirt away from his broken skin.

Her consciousness faded in and out. Every time she came back, it seemed like Jeremy was focused on stitching his back. After what felt like hours, the attention slowly shifted to other wounds less severe.

She didn’t know when Jeremy finally got to her and tightly bandaged her arm and leg, or when she was laid her on her back to rest. The stars shone bright above her and Tiberius, still peeking through the trees.

Jeremy wasn’t visible anymore, nor audibly nearby. She wasn’t sure where he went, but it hurt too much to think about.

Her eyes drifted shut for the last time.

Why wasn't he dead?

James wasn't sure where he was, or what was happening when consciousness started seeping back in - almost unwelcome as it brought pain with it.

He'd have thought that, prior to the present, everything in his body hurt. But somehow, he was wrong. Somehow, he hurt more: something he hadn't wanted to experience as possible, but was his reality regardless.

The most prominent hindrance to any sense of focus was the deep, persistent pain in his back. It was a stinging ache that was indescribable. Perhaps it was dramatic to say he felt like he was at death's door, but he had never felt so close.

Prone, with his face to the side, cheek flat on the ground, laid on his stomach. The stab wound from a few days prior still pained him, but the thought of moving in any direction felt like an impossible feet. Apart from all of the pain he was in, he was remarkably drained of energy, and his mind was caught in a thick fog.

Squinting, his eyes slowly adjusted to the daylight. At first, it was blinding - but then his surroundings started to come into view.

First, the ground: grassy, and familiar. Second: a body - not far from him, lying down. Upon further focusing, he was able to identify it as Tori, who looked to be asleep, or potentially unconscious.

The sun was out, and it felt warm, so it was at least morning. It didn't feel blistering enough yet for noonday.

Barely coherent enough to form a question, confusion started to settle in uncomfortably.

If Tori was here, and hopefully alive... what became of the man who'd attacked her? He'd been sure this time to make sure Butch was dead for sure. But after that, things got more muddled, and all James could recall was someone had come out of the darkness and grabbed Tori.

Groaning, James tried to force himself to move.

He didn't know where Elliot was. Nor Brenna. He didn't know where Butch's dogs were, or if they'd survived, or the wereabout of Butch's body.

If Tori was unconscious, or even severely hurt, she'd need attention, and who knew how long she'd been lying there uncared for.

Managing to push himself up to his elbows, it took all of James's willpower not to retch.

He tasted blood in his mouth, and something inside of him could only imagine the feeling of blood splatter hitting his face. Suddenly, the smell and the sensation was overwhelming. His body was trembling, and he didn't know if it was from the pain or the memory worming back into his mind of Butch's open skull.

Heaving, one of James's arms gave out, and his whole body fell off kitler.

He had to pull himself together.

Where was Elliot? What about Tori? What happened? What happened?

Panic set in when he heard footsteps, and he fell face-down into the earth, helpless.

It was Oliver, wasn't it? Here to throw salt into his wounds?

Why else would James have survived? He could feel the fresh bandaging around his body. He knew what it felt like.

With a groan, James forced himself to look to the side, staring at a pair of shoes, not far off.

Those... were not familiar feet.

James's eyes drifted upward, looking into the face of a man he'd never before seen in his life.

He looked of an average height. Strong, athletic build. Plain, earth-colored clothes. Short, blonde hair. A concerned frown, somehow simultaneously threatening and gentle.

He wasn't bearing any weapons outwardly, but that wasn't to say there weren't any to come.

For a moment, they both stared at one another, neither of them saying a word. James found himself waiting, but only after a minute's silence realized that, perhaps the other man was doing the same.

Not in the mood to flatter, but hoping not to antagonize, James went straight to the point.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice coming out like a croak.

Silence followed, joined with a sharper emotion in the man's eyes.

"A friend," was all he said.

"Of whom?" James asked.

The man's eyes finally left him, as if looking out for something that had moved. His eyes came back, softer.

"Tori's," he said. "And you."

Hm.

James tried to search his memory for mention of a friend. Tori had mentioned Gisa's gang, but to his understanding, they were all women, and all except Tori had been killed.

She'd mentioned a friend she'd run off with, though - part of the reason she'd escaped the fate of her friends.

That was the only person he knew of that this "friend" might be.

There was no way for James to really confirm this without Tori, and James didn't have the capacity currently to interrogate the man.

A longer pause followed.

"Your name?" James asked.

The man's eyes narrowed, and moments later, he sat down where he stood, simply watching him. Maybe in thought.

"A name," James clarified. "Any name."

Just something to call him by, for gods' sakes.

"Jeremy," he spoke immediately, a bit short. "Salinas."

A first and a last name. That was more than James was expecting. Not that he was sure it was true, anyway.

"You helped me?" James asked.

Jeremy's eyes closed, as if he was asked the hardest question known to mankind. He reopened them a second later, with an exhale.

"After Tori knocked you out, Yes."

James blinked.

Okay. He'd ask about that later.

"And Tori," James said. "She's alright?"

A confident nod, but nothing more.

James let out a weak sigh of relief.

"Did you see two horses?" James asked. "A gold and a dark brown one."

"They don't like me," Jeremy replied gently. "They're roaming around nearby. If I leave the area, they should come."

James began to attempt again to get up.

Jeremy immediately was there, about to shove him back down. He didn't touch him just yet, but it was obvious Jeremy did not want him moving.

Unfortunately for Jeremy, he didn't have to touch James at all.

A blinding shock of pain streaked up James's back and sent him very quickly back to the ground before he pushed himself up even an inch. Pinching his eyes shut, James had to bite back a cry that nearly crawled out of his mouth, and he pushed back the tears tempting to well up.

"Don't," Jeremy said lowly. "You can't move on your own."

In too much pain to argue or reply, James merely kept his eyes shut, trying not to cry in front of this stranger.

Quite some time passed before James spoke again.

"I just... want to make sure they're okay," he said faintly.

"Will they come when they're called?" Jeremy asked.

"Elliot will," James said weakly. "I'm not sure about Brenna."

Jeremy passed a glance in Tori's direction, then looked out at the trees.

"I'll scout the area again," he said quietly. His hand lifted and he pointed vaguely into the shrubbery at their side. "They should come from this direction."

He stood with a stifled grunt of pain, still looking in the supposed direction of the horses. After a moment of standing there, he looked down at James with a frown.

James couldn't do much but look up at him, but he had a feeling the man felt compelled to tell him to stay put. At this point, James knew better than to try to move again.

"I'm not going anywhere," James said flatly.

He briefly looked Jeremy up and down, trying to assess the man's own state of being. He seemed to be in pain.

It was then that something clicked.

This... this was the man who he'd thought was attacking Tori. Wasn't it? Oh, gods.

A wave of embarassment and regret fell over him like a heavy weight, and he suppresed the urge to groan.

"Wait," James said, just when it seemed like Jeremy was about to turn and leave.

Jeremy looked back at him, tired. He quietly waited for James's continuation, a bit tense in the shoulders.

"I'm sorry," James said, quieter. "I didn't know you were her friend. I know we are but strangers, and you owe me nothing, but thank you. For taking care of Tori... and, I assume, me."

A pause.

"I'm sure you have questions. When you return I will do my best to answer them," James said. "I..."

He let out a long sigh, pinching his eyes shut for a moment as he tried to find the right words through the headache, and through the pain that was difficult to ignore.

"I hope I didn't hurt you too severely," he said, barely audible, looking back up at him. "I know it's more than a poor way to make a first impression."

Jeremy simply huffed a bit in amusement, looking away. He didn't say anything in reply to that.

Well. At least that wasn't a negative reaction. With another small sigh, James looked away.

"I won't keep you any longer," James said simply. "That's all."

Tori seemed to be the focus of Jeremy’s gaze. After a moment, he looked back to James, providing a nod of acknowledgement.

He wandered off into the brush, barely making a sound as he did.

There were a few minutes, it felt, that Jeremy was gone. James simply laid there on the forest floor, trying not to dwell too much on all of the things outside of his control. Admittedly, it was difficult, and he hated having so many loose ends and so many unanswered questions, but if he tried taking matters into his own hands he knew his body was going to give out on him.

Though it felt like the lumshade he'd taken was finally flushed from his system - possibly faster than normal, because of blood loss - the after-affects still lingered. The brain fog was thick, and there was an ache deep inside his bones that he couldn't be sure of the source of.

His attention was finally alerted to something new when he heard hoofbeats approaching.

They came fast, at first, but then slowed on approach.

Before he knew it, Elliot was standing near him, wandering up carefully.

Elliot always seemed to know when James was truly in too much pain to do anything, and now was one of those times. Instead of smothering him or demanding attention, Elliot gently rested the top of his nose against the side of James's head, not nudging, and not licking, but just making his presence known.

James wished he had the strength or energy to reach up and pet him, or even to lean into the touch.

Instead, he just closed his eyes, trying not to let the events of the past week overwhelm him at the first touch of comfort.

Eventually, Elliot pulled away, hovering closeby, just within James's peripheral view.

James had to assume Jeremy had returned, but he didn't know where he was.

There was a clear of a throat from behind him.

Having to slowly turn his head to the other side, practically dragging it across the ground, James looked behind him, up at the man who had returned.

"Did Brenna respond?" James asked.

Jeremy sat down before responding. Once settled, he shrugged.

"Still skittish," he said. "I'm surprised this one is still here," he hand gestured in Elliot's direction, not bothering to even look.

James didn't miss a beat.

"Don't be," he said.

"Mm," Jeremy hummed. He seemed distant, like he had something on his mind.

"Is there anyone I should keep an eye out for?" he asked stiffly. "After you."

James paused.

"...I don't know," he answered honestly. "No one that I know of. But... that's why I always assume someone is."

"I see," Jeremy sighed, sounding disappointed in that response. He began running his fingers over his bruised temple, vaguely scratching his brow.

"Well. There's no one nearby, at least," Jeremy dropped his hand into his lap. "For now. There's nothing to worry about besides the wildlife."

"I don't think anyone else should be coming," James said quietly, trying to give a more thorough answer. "At least, not soon. The man - whose body, I presume, isn't far off - had no more companions with him. And if anyone were to recognize him as a the career bounty hunter he was, I'd like to think there's no one out there who's stupid enough to think they could compete with him."

He swallowed, aware that any hope they had was still based in assumption, but it was all James had to offer.

"I know... we probably won't be able to move for a while," James added. "At least... speaking for myself."

Tori and Jeremy were hurt, but they were far more likely to at least be functional enough within a day or two than he was. He'd only just been getting better. But now he was back at square one.

"I'm not leaving you out here," Jeremy said, point blank. "I don't care who you are. It's not right."

Surprisingly loyalty from a man he just met. Honorable, but stupid.

"I appreciate the sentiment," James said weakly. "I suppose what I mean to say is, we'll be sitting ducks for some time. At least, until I can move without my body giving out on me."

Jeremy nodded, a weak smile hitting his lips for a moment.

"When I'm semi-functional again," James said. "Or rather, as soon as physically possible, we should move from this place. Though I can only assume Butch's disappearance wouldn't be surprising for a time because of his profession, a prolonged disappearance will eventually be noticed, especially with his former partner's absence as well."

The smile of Jeremy's faded as he listened.

He hesitated, realizing Jeremy had no knowledge of their prior encounter.

"To make a long story short," James said. "This was not the first time Butch caught up to us. Last time, he had a partner."

He felt that the death was implied, and decided not to expound on the manner or the details of Reed's death. Personally, he didn't want to explain who Reed was, or what his role was in the bounty hunter's partnership, and he didn't see it as relevant to what Jeremy needed to know.

Withholding much, he continued to discuss their plan moving forward.

"Tori and I had agreed upon heading northward. It's within my own interests to distance myself from the Moonlight Kingdom as much as possible, and I believe Tori's own intentions are to distance herself from her prior point of contention as well. Neither of us have any reliable connections to draw from that I'm aware of, so, since we were on our own and limited in our resources, our plan was to go north, lay low, and eventually part ways once I was well enough."

He paused, unable to glance over his shoulder at Tori, who was behind him, now. Or behind the direction his head was facing, at least.

"Is she... up yet?" James asked.

"I'm too scared to check, honestly," Jeremy said, sounding like he had experience with Tori's waking procedures.

"I only ask because--" James whispered. "I... think it would be best for me to leave as soon as possible. For both of your sakes."

Jeremy shut his eyes with a long and gentle sigh. He looked back at him.

"I fear she would object to the inevitability of it," James continued to say in hushed tones. "But it really would be for the best. She's already put herself in harm's way thrice now for my sake, and you've seen yourself how it turned out this time."

James hesitated, watching Jeremy closely.

"You... care for her, yes?" James asked quietly.

Jeremy’s eyes drifted to the side as he nodded, almost as if in shame. His hands were resting in his lap, folded tightly. It looked like blood had begun to seep through the bandaging on his hands.

After passing a glance in Tori’s direction, presumably checking that she was still asleep, he looked back to James.

“I don’t know if it’s mutual, but yeah,” he said plainly. "Also, you're right that she would object."

With a sigh, Jeremy grew quiet once more. He seemed to be thinking on the proposed plan.

"Then you'll look out for her when I go?" James asked.

Jeremy met his eyes, his gaze hardening.

"That's why I'm here," Jeremy said, his voice felt more determined. “When I found out her group was ambushed, and that she had escaped…” he drifted off, looking like he was thinking on what he was going to say.

“She cares too much," Jeremy continued, breezing past the prior subject. "I knew she was going to do something reckless if I didn’t find her in time. I’m obviously not fast enough at tracking you guys to do that though,” he weakly huffed.

James hummed faintly.

"Rescuing me," James said quietly. "That was what she did that was reckless."

Among other things.

Jeremy simply nodded in understanding.

“I am aware,” Jeremy said quietly. “Part of it is just her nature though. I don’t think it’s something we can change.” He clenched his fists and fake boxed the air a few times. “Even if it is dangerous.”

Right.

It seemed that Jeremy knew Tori pretty well, which seemed to track with Tori's own timeline that she alluded to. James couldn't quite remember all of the details, but it seemed like the two had known one another for a while, despite Gisa's objections to their relationship. James was under the impression it might've been a year or two, based on what information he could piece together.

"Well," James finally said, looking up at Jeremy's wearied eyes. "If there's nothing else pressing you at the moment. It may benefit you to lie down. Perhaps... if you propped me upright, I could keep watch while you got some shut eye."

Jeremy met his gaze briefly before he scanned their surroundings, looking skeptical.

“I guess,” he whispered as he looked back to James. "As long as you don't blow out my crappy doctoring."

Jeremy got to his feet with a pained stretch, then knelt down to move him. He seemed to be waiting for some sort of direction.

James, stomach-down to the ground, couldn't exactly see much around him beyond what was in front of his face.

"Just... flip me over, first," he said. "Then prop me up against the nearest tree."

Jeremy, in his silent understanding, carefully repositioned him onto his other side. He slowed at a few points in the process when he felt James stiffen, but ultimately got him through the ordeal quickly.

Soon thereafter James had been delicately propped up next to a tree that overlooked all their gear. Jeremy was still knelt down beside him once he had been settled.

Trying not to look the man in the face, James fixed his eyes on the middle distance. Now that he was conscious, he didn't see himself being able to sleep again for a while. The pain was keeping him awake, albeit, not as alert as he wanted.

"Thank you," James said plainly. "I'll keep watch now. You can rest."

“Right,” Jeremy replied, sounding as if he wasn’t going to rest at all.

Before James could say much to this, Jeremy continued on. “I have a few days of painkillers left on me if you…” his voice faded out, but then he gestured with his hand at James’s whole person.

James blinked.

"You have medication?" James asked, looking at him.

"I do. I take it that's a symbol of approval," Jeremy passed a weak smile.

There was no reason to tough it out if he didn't have to. James was far beyond the point of letting pride interfere with assistance.

"If you're offering," James said. "I'll take it. Gladly."

“I was hoping you’d agree to it.” Jeremy got to his feet and quietly retrieved his bag from nearby where Tori was sleeping.

He returned with the painkillers. With a flair, he squatted down and gently set them in James’s now outstretched hand. “I don’t need anything this strong now, anyway,” Jeremy mumbled out in passing.

James popped one of the pills in his mouth, swallowing it dry.

Hopefully, it'd kick in sooner than later.

"Thank you, again, Jeremy," James said quietly.

“Bah.” Jeremy’s battered hand waved the gratitude out of the air. “It’s the least I can do. Besides the first aid.”

Jeremy didn’t get up just yet. His eyes shifted down, scanning the dirt. Perhaps he had more to say?

“I should be thanking you,” Jeremy finally spoke gently, lifting his head to meet his gaze. “When I overheard that you two were running together, I was worried you’d done something to her. From the way it seems though…” his voice drifted as he looked in Tori’s direction, watching her. He looked back a moment later, his expression had softened. “It seems she had you hostage instead.”

Jeremy raised his limp, still dirtied and bloodied hand for a shake.

“So,” Jeremy began. “Tiberius.” He sounded out the name, his eyes meeting James's for but a brief instance. The name was said carefully and with intention. “Thank you for protecting her. Consider your debts paid."

Surprised by the expression of gratitude, James stared at Jeremy's hand for a second before he finally returned the shake. It was brief, and James pulled away first, letting his hand rest back at his side.

"You don't have to worry about me turning you in, by the way,“ Jeremy said. He then stood with a grunt. "I trust Tori's judgement better than the kingdom's. Which is not great. Trusting her is a bad idea and how you get your bare ass laughed at. So don't trust her."

Jeremy shook his head in defeat before he shouldered his bag and started off for the next closest tree in silence. Soon, he'd sat himself down on the other side of it, blocking James's view of anything more than his legs.

Her lungs burned as she ran.

Everything ached. It was hot. She hadn’t eaten in days.

Across her shoulder, Tori scanned for the beast that was pursuing her, finding nothing but the emptiness of arid plains, speckled with tumbleweeds.

The sun still shone on the horizon, a deep reddish orange, paired with the suffocating smoke that blanketed the land. Something big was on fire. Even though she couldn’t see flames, the level of smoke was so unbelievably thick. It smelled fresh, as if she should be seeing flames.

As she faced forward, a thicket closed in around her without warning. Its thorns sunk deep through her clothes and into her flesh. She bit down, holding back a cry. Before she had a chance to free herself, she was ensnared to the point she couldn’t move. Each branch pulling her down felt human, like large hands had reached out and took her body in its grasp.

The earth shook, the same rumbling that warned her the beast was nearby.

She struggled, but she only fell deeper into the thicket’s hold.

A voice met her ears, layered with several different tones, some more familiar than others. Some were inaudible through the mix.

“Where did you go?” it called, the whispering voices solidifying into ones she knew. A chill ran down her neck. It felt like it had spoken directly into her ear.

Gisa. Tiberius. Dustin. Jeremy.

She cried, trying to will the beast out of her mind. It did this because it knew she cared for them.

“Tori?”

———

Tori jolted awake with a sharp gasp. Her hand was clutching at the collar of her shirt, tugging it away from her throat.

She hadn’t been able to breathe in her dream.

Whenever her nightmare found her, it came upon her swiftly. Violently. It was a recurring nightmare she’d had since she was young. Though the pattern was the same every time, she was always shook by how vivid it was.

"Tori," Tiberius's voice called out to her softly.

A blink.

She carefully turned her head his way, powering through the ache in her back. Once she laid eyes on where he sat, propped up against a tree, she felt overwhelming relief wash over her.

“You’re alive,” she croaked out, letting a weak smile reach her eyes.

Her voice worked this time. It was still husky and it hurt to breathe, but she didn’t care.

"As are you," Tiberius said quietly, offering her a small smile in return.

With a gentle sigh, she began to search for Jeremy. She knew he was here, but wasn’t sure where he’d gone, as he wasn’t immediately in view. She propped herself up with her good arm, looking.

Eventually she found him, leaned up against a tree in a fashion much like Tiberius was. The exception was that he looked asleep, and his arms were folded comfortably across his chest as his head hung to the side. Focusing, she could see his mouth hanging open. He was going to wake up with a neck ache for sure.

She looked back to Tiberius.

"When did you wake up?" she asked.

"Maybe an hour ago," he answered. It sounded like he was keeping his voice low so as not to wake Jeremy.

She hadn't even thought about being quiet.

Instead of talking to him from what she believed was her deathbed, she painstakingly crawled over to him on her hands and knees. She watched his eyes narrow as she approached.

"I'm fine," she said, hushed now.

"Mmhm," was all he hummed in reply.

Once settled on her rump nearby him, she laid back down. Her back hurt when she was sitting up or moving, so it was probably best this way.

She frowned up at him, inspecting every scratch and bruise now that she could see him clearly. His face had collected more bruises, thanks to Jeremy and Butch. It was hard to tell through his beard if the scab by his lip had been broken open again.

"I figure Jeremy helped you up?" she poked his leg gently.

"That he did," Tiberius answered.

Well, that was fast. Just last night—she assumed she hadn't slept that long—they had nearly killed each other. At first, it didn’t seem that Jeremy was one to work with people like Tiberius, but somehow it made sense with Jeremy’s caring nature. They both wanted to protect her.

She lifted a hand and reached for his, stopping short so he could decide if he was willing enough for it. She still wasn’t sure about his boundaries, if she was being honest.

She watched as he glanced down at her hand, briefly met her eyes, then looked at her hand again. With some hesitation, he slowly took her hand in his, holding it gently.

Her gaze began to soften after they met eyes. She was already missing him. He hadn’t even said anything about leaving.

Before her sadness developed into tears, she looked up at the tree canopy, letting her thumb gently brush over the back of his hand. His knuckles probably hurt, so she was avoiding them as well she could.

Tori quietly watched a gentle breeze sway the tips of the trees above them.

She assumed the gunshot she heard was the killing move on Butch, so it was probably best not to ask about it. Tiberius didn’t seem to enjoy discussing his fights. More importantly, he didn’t enjoy how they ended.

Even though the bounty hunters were abhorrent, they were still people. Humans like her, Tiberius, and Jeremy. They had families, hobbies, animals like Brenna that they cared for. It wasn’t often that she felt bad for the enemy. She thought back on what Tiberius said he saw in her. It started to make more sense now.

They had seen so much death in the last week. They had nearly died themselves. She wondered what would’ve happened if Tiberius didn’t have those mystery drugs on his person, but cut this thought short.

It was glaringly obvious he was in physical pain, but part of her worried for his mind. Oliver had asked what Tiberius used on himself after their incident with Reed. She could only assume it was a drug that blocked out pain and provided adrenaline.

“Are you feeling ok? Mentally, I should say.” Tori only moved her thumb across his hand as she spoke, still watching the trees. “Whatever it was that you used, it saved our lives, but miracles like that don’t come for free.”

She turned her gaze to him, too tired to hide the worry showing in her face.

Tiberius glanced down at her, his brows pinching together. He huffed through his nose, as if to laugh.

"That's... a bit of an odd question," he said. "Considering all of the stress we've been under. I don't think I'll be 'okay' for some time... if I ever will be again."

He paused, looking out into the distance ahead of them with a hum.

"Perhaps the standard for 'okay' merely shifts," he said quietly. "Like a moving target."

“I see. I can relate to that,” Tori looked upward again. “I mainly asked because some of the drugs out there have nasty lingering side effects. Not to mention that shit the Kingdom uses. It's been a while since I've seen it though."

"Ah," Tiberius said quietly. "Well, that's more of a concern with long exposure to it. Now that I'm out... it shouldn't be an issue."

Tori gave him a little bit of a side eye and a hum of thought.

"Not like you can go bust into King's Peak again and get more," she huffed with a smile.

Tiberius huffed weakly through his nose as well, but there was something pained in his expression.

"Yeah," he said.

"I've gotta stop making you laugh."

"It would hurt less," he said. "If you suddenly lost your sense of humor, yes."

“I’d hurt less too,” she rolled her eyes at him. Every time he bothered her like this, she felt herself holding back the urge to chuckle. "I think you're contagious."

"What, you mean it hurts just to look at me?" he asked.

It did hurt to look at him, honestly.

“Yes it does,” Tori let herself admit. “You and that mustache you’ve got going on. And your hair is a mess,” she stated blandly.

Part of her was tempted to ask if she could clean his face up. He still had a lot of dirt and grime built up from the previous night.

"Sorry I haven't had time to clean up," Tiberius said dryly. "I've been a little preoccupied with surviving."

Tori looked at him fully, analyzing the situation again.

“Jeremy didn’t do you any favors either,” she sighed.

Tiberius winced at that.

"Yeah," he said lowly. "That was my fault."

"You are a bit bad at seeing in the dark," Tori smiled. "It's ok. We got you calmed down."

Tiberius flicked his eyes at her, but otherwise, didn't seem to address the manner in which he'd been subdued.

"Still," Tiberius said. "I feel bad about it."

A pause.

"I... didn't know who he was," Tiberius said. "I'd only assumed he was one of the men from that group you said might be hunting you."

Tori let her smile weaken.

“Ah,” she said gently, a hint embarrassed. “I never did tell you much about him…”

She thought for a moment, letting her eyes drift around their surroundings.

All she’d mentioned of Jeremy was that he was simply a nameless friend. She hadn’t discussed the fact that he and many in that group were originally together. That was still digging at her. She still didn’t know his relations with them.

If only he was awake for her to ask.

If Tiberius had woken on Jeremy’s watch, perhaps they had spoken already. Maybe Tiberius had already apologized, or gotten some kind of explanation out of Jeremy that she missed.

“Did you… speak with him much while he was up? I wanted to tell him about you last night before you showed up but…” she drifted off, deciding to not discuss her injured throat. “Y’know.”

"We didn't talk much," Tiberius said. "But... we cleared things up."

Tori audibly sighed in relief. That was one issue out of the way.

“I’m glad you both did,” she said, delicately squeezing his hand. “He’s a good guy.”

She didn’t want to pry, but she was curious if Jeremy had mentioned anything about her or not, or told Tiberius something that she hadn’t.

Undecided, she asked the age-old question.

"Anything else?"

"Not much," he said.

She hummed, bored with the lack of an answer.

"Well, that was a bust," she huffed. "I need to come up with better questions with you," she squinted her eyes at him, trying to lighten the mood again.

"What makes you say that?" Tiberius asked.

“I dunno,” she thought aloud. Maybe honesty was best. “I wasn't sure if he’d mentioned anything of his old group or me or anything like that. He doesn't talk much. I don't know what I expected for an answer."

"He didn't mention his old group," Tiberius said, glancing over at her. "I didn't know he was in one."

She wiped her free hand over her face with a groan.

"It's so weird to explain," she mumbled through her hand.

"Any weirder than: I rescued Nye's most wanted man from a career bounty hunter and instead of turning him in for myself we ended up becoming, for lack of better words, friends, and ever since we collectively have been on the run for our lives?" he asked.

She let her mouth fall agape, turning to stare at him.

“I…” she tried to start, but couldn’t manage to come up with anything witty as a response. After a painful few seconds of silence, she simply groaned again. This was awful.

"There was a lot going on." She tried to pretend that never happened. She didn't trust it to work though. He'd get her again eventually.

"He does have… or had a group," she said. "I don't know what happened very well. The group I warned you about was a mix of some of the men from Jeremy's group, and another group that Gisa and the lot of us had run into before."

She paused to think.

"The man I killed. His name was Kelsie," her eyes narrowed as she thought on her explanation. "He led the group I'm worried about. But now that he's gone..." she stopped herself. "Gods, see I'm already getting myself lost," she forced a long sigh.

"Before anything happened to Gisa and my group, Jeremy and Kelsie had different groups of their own. I can't remember the guy's name who led Jeremy's. He was solid though," she nodded to herself. "Then there was Kelsie of course, with his group. Gisa knew him from childhood or something like that."

"Anyway," she tried to regain her focus. "At some point, I don't know when, the groups merged. That group is the one I'm worried about. It didn't have everyone from Jeremy's in there, but there were a few. Kelsie led this whole 'merged' group, and it was the one that I think ambushed us," she said gently.

"Then I kicked his ass, as he deserved," she stated. "Ultimately, another man took the lead of the group and it was one of the guys from Jeremy's. He's a big guy, a lot like Butch was. His name is Jayce."

She looked over, wondering if Tiberius had fallen asleep yet. But he looked like he was paying attention. He cast her a curious glance.

"Of course you're interested," she rested her hand on her face again. "I'm trying to think of anything else of note."

"How did Jeremy get caught up with a group like that?" Tiberius asked quietly.

"See, that's what I'm trying to figure out," Tori dropped her hand to her stomach again. "Jeremy's group on its own was fine, and they did good things for people like me and the girls were. I didn't see the leader in the later group though, so I'm assuming there was some kind of falling out that happened."

She stared up at the trees, deep in thought.

"I don't know why he was with this later group," she said quietly, nearly inaudible. "Which worries me."

She found herself lost on what to say next. In the thick of the last couple weeks, she’d entirely forgotten about this concern. She rubbed her stomach, trying to will away the anxiety that had started to twist in her gut.

After a long moment of silence, not knowing how to continue, she weakly chuckled.

“Sorry, I-- I forgot about all this,” her voice had grown faint.

She tried to will away the shake in her hands, but she hadn't noticed it soon enough. Tiberius probably felt it already.

"It seems, whatever happened, he broke away from them to find you," Tiberius said. "And I think we would've known if he hadn't come alone by this point."

"Mmhmm." She was still skeptical, but he did provide a valid point.

"I'm sure you'll be able to talk to him once he's awake," Tiberius said quietly, as if to assure her.

She weakly smiled at him, hiding the looming dread she felt.

“Right,” she replied, then looked to the sky once more. “Once he’s awake.”

Deep inside, she wished Tiberius hadn't reminded her of this problem. All she wanted was to trust Jeremy and leave it at that, but life wasn't so simple.

Tori closed her eyes with a gentle exhale through her nose.

The anxiety was twisting tighter inside her, making it hard to breathe. Tiberius had woken her partway through her nightmare, but it felt like the dream was trying to continue the story, even in her waking hours.

She found herself staring into the thicket again. She didn't know whether she was awake or asleep, but it didn't matter.

Just as the beast's chilling hands took her by the neck, she jolted awake, her breathing shallow and ragged. She was gasping for air.

Her eyes open now, she stared upward and into the trees, trying desperately to control her breathing.

She didn't feel Tiberius's hand in hers anymore. It felt like it had been set down. She didn't know how long she had fallen asleep for, but it seemed it was long enough that he had noticed.

"Tori," Tiberius's voice said softly beside her.

His voice sounded further away than it should’ve.

As much as she wanted to turn and face him, she couldn’t. She hated waking up like this, unable to move. It was like she hadn’t fully woken up yet.

It felt like her chest was being crushed. Upon an uncontrollable heave, pain shot up her back. Her voice cracked.

"Hey, it's okay," he said softer. "You don't have to get up. I'm right here."

Tiberius seemed to understand, thankfully.

Despite this relief, she still had to spend a minute or two of wrestling with the terror that had followed her into reality.

She felt the iron grip on her body start to give way. First her fingers could move, then her face. With a tired and pained wince, she gently rolled her good shoulder, trying to work the rest of her body into waking up.

Tiberius didn’t say much as she shifted around. She figured he was trying to be respectful and let her have her space, which she appreciated. It was annoying to have someone fussing over you while you couldn’t reply at all, or move.

Once she’d thoroughly tested every muscle she could think of, she let herself sigh in relief.

“Damn nightmares,” she finally could turn her head to the side to look at Tiberius. “Couldn’t talk or move,” she said with a huff.

He hummed. "Have they passed?" he asked.

"I think so," she said slowly, hesitantly.

There was a small silence, and then he finally looked down at her.

She gave him a weak smile, but it probably still looked sad.

"It's one I've had since I was young," she let her smile fade. "You'd think I'd get better at powering through the same dream after all these years."

"Time doesn't heal all wounds," Tiberius said gently. "I would give yourself grace to allow for how it's festered over the years. Recurring nightmares are a difficult beast to tame, even for the bravest of souls."

He flashed her a small, genuine smile.

"I'm just glad you woke up from this one. That's one victory to be counted, and I'm sure you'll have many more."

Tori carefully rolled her body over so she was resting on her good shoulder and facing him.

She wasn't sure that simply waking from a dream qualified as a victory, but maybe she was just being dismal. Tiberius's view was probably a good perspective to have, considering how unpredictable nightmares could be.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"Want some water?" Tiberius asked.

Tori’s fingers were brushing back and forth in front of her, feeling out the grass and tree droppings beneath them. She still felt stifled by the weight of her nightmare, but maybe it was just the humidity in the air.

His words took longer to register than she realized. She had heard him say something, but not actually processed it for a good few moments as she played with the grass.

“I s’pose,” she mumbled.

He reached around to his side, bringing over a canteen. He set it beside her.

Everything was so painfully difficult to decide on. She didn’t want to admit that her dream had affected her so strongly, but the inaction that followed when Tiberius set the canteen by her probably gave it away. She didn’t know how to explain anything she was feeling at the moment.

Jeremy, the Kingdom, Tiberius, she just wanted it all sorted out so she didn’t have to think about it in the background anymore.

In a desperate attempt to prevent herself from crying, she took a long ragged breath, still watching her fingers.

Tiberius didn’t seem to want to bother her. She knew he couldn’t just get up and give her any space really, but she also didn’t have the strength to move herself and go hide either.

Her voice cracked as she hid a sob. Every breath she took to calm herself felt like it was doing the opposite. She could feel herself spiraling, but nothing she tried could stop it.

Over the last week, she had been so useless. She never used to be this way. Gisa and the others had always considered her one of the stronger-willed girls, capable of fending for themselves and for others, without emotions getting involved.

They were both helpless as it stood. If anyone found them, especially Jayce’s group, they wouldn’t survive. Not even Tiberius. He had run out of his mystery drug, could barely move, and was exhausted. Jeremy wouldn’t last against a full group either.

She’d only survived Butch because of Tiberius. Along with Alabaster and Reed, that was three times she would have died. Her hands balled into fists as she felt tears roll down her cheeks.

She didn’t want him to leave. Not only because she was scared she wasn’t strong enough, but because with how injured he was, she felt as though he was going to die before he ever had a chance to fully heal. He wouldn’t get somewhere out of the Kingdom and bounty hunters’ reach like this.

Tiberius was in even worse condition than when she rescued him. If she hadn’t saved him, would he have been better off? He was wanted alive, but everything she’d done had pushed him closer and closer to death.

It was her fault that this had happened. No matter how she looked at it, everything wove its way back to her.

Then she felt a small tap on her shoulder. When she looked up, Tiberius was holding out a handkerchief.

"Here," Tiberius said quietly.

She pinched her eyes shut for a second, forcing the tears from her eyes so she could see better. Then she quietly took the handkerchief from him and held it to her eyes, simply holding it there and soaking up what she could.

After a minute or so, she felt that her face had dried enough. With a pathetic sigh, she dropped her hand along with the soaked cloth.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, raising her other hand to hold it to her now aching forehead. “I know none of this is fully my fault, but I can’t get my mind to stop thinking that it is.”

"I get that," he said quietly. And then there was a long pause.

"What would you say if I were you right now?"

She was caught off guard by that question. It forced her to actually think on an answer.

Her eyes drifted between what she could see of his leg, the canteen, and the soaked handkerchief as she thought.

“To let it out,” she said distantly. Her eyes came back to the canteen. “And drink water…”

Tiberius hummed, and nudged the canteen closer to her.

"Not a bad idea," he said.

She briskly wiped her nose clean, then sat up to take the water and drank. Ordinarily she’d sip on it to conserve, but she took a few good swallows before she lowered the canteen. She quietly recapped it.

Slowly, she scooted up beside him and sat there quietly. She had her knees pulled up to her chest and her chin rested on them.

"Jeremy said Brenna's nearby," Tiberius said quietly. "He seemed to imply that he isn't very good with horses, though. If I was in better shape I'd go get her for you."

"Why do you say that?" she asked.

"Oh," Tiberius said. "I just thought... I don't know. If you were wondering where she is, at all."

"Oh..."

She did practically wake up to a nightmare twice in probably the last hour. She'd forgotten everything else going on, including the fact that she should probably worry about her new horse.

"I'm sure she'll be ok," she said into her knees. It was still hard to keep her voice audible. "Once I feel a little better, I'll go find her."

"Alright," Tiberius said quietly.

She spent the next few minutes listening to the forest ambience, letting the exhaustion slowly return. It helped her to get her mind off of the guilt. For now.

Part of her wished Jeremy were awake so she wouldn’t feel as awkward. She just wanted to be close to someone, and Tiberius was all she had at the moment.

“Hey, um…” She turned her head from her knees slightly, enough so she could see him.

"Mm?" Tiberius hummed, turning his attention to her.

She waited a second. Once she made brief eye contact with him, she wiped her face on her sleeve.

“If I can manage to get to Brenna without scaring her away, will you look at something for me?” Forcing herself to speak up was difficult, but thankfully she got it out without her voice cracking.

"Yeah," he said. "Of course."

He didn’t seem too tired, so maybe she’d found a good time to give him that carving. Her wrists and hands hurt too much to work on it more anyway.

“Ok. Good,” she looked forward with a small sigh of relief.

After a moment to gather her strength, she stood, giving Tiberius a passing glance. Maybe it’d help her feel a little better too once he had the gift in his possession. At this rate, she’d rather it be partially unfinished and he sees it than to die before he did. Who knows what was going to happen, so better safe than sorry.

Soon she had disappeared into the brush, trying not to rustle around too much as she did.

She found Brenna not too far off. When the horse turned her way, Tori saw that her bag was still tied down to the saddle. Phew.

Turns out Brenna wouldn’t come much closer than where she was already. She wasn’t sure why. Tiberius said it was Jeremy, but she never recalled Jeremy saying anything about how animals acted around him. She’d have to ask eventually.

Tori gave Brenna some treats out of her bag before she began wandering back to where Jeremy and Tiberius were. She prayed Brenna wouldn’t wander off too far without being tied to a tree.

She nearly got herself lost trying to find their camp again, but she saw Elliot’s head perk up through the bushes, giving her a direction to go. Hopefully the brush helped them stay hidden from anyone that was still hunting them.

Eventually she made it to Elliot, and from there, plopped down at Tiberius’s side with her bag.

“That sucked,” she grumbled, swatting away some bugs and thorns that had collected on her pant legs and shirt.

"Where's Brenna?" Tiberius asked.

"She wouldn't budge."

Tiberius hummed.

"Maybe she's still spooked from everything last night," he said quietly.

Tori simply nodded and started snooping through her bag. Soon her hand found the carving, wrapped up in a bit of cloth she’d had lingering in her bag for too long. She peeked a glance his way, purposefully acting like she was hiding something from a looming parent.

She squinted.

"Close your eyes."

Tiberius pinched his brows together.

"Come on..." she begged, giving a pleading look.

With a small, relenting sigh, he closed his eyes.

"Alright," he said quietly.

"I'm not gonna drop a sack of shit in your hand, don't worry," she said, carefully putting her gift in his hand. She hadn't tied it yet, but that was for the better since his hands were bandaged.

"Done," she said.

"Can I open my eyes now?" he asked.

Tori hummed. She quietly grabbed some grass and put it on top of the gift, then sat back to wait.

"Now you can, yes," she said with a small smile.

When he opened his eyes, he looked down into his hands. For a second, his brows pinched again, looking perplexed. But then he grinned ever so slightly, lightly brushing off the grass.

"This... is this...?" he started to ask, not finishing the question before he unwrapped the gift, revealing the carved hawk hidden in the cloth.

Immediately, his face softened, and a small, genuine smile graced his features as he gingerly picked it up in his hands. She felt her smile growing.

"A hawk," he said softly, turning it over, finding her initials carved on the bottom.

He turned to meet her eyes with something akin to a wide-eyed pout, but with more of a smile.

"You remembered," he said.

Okay, that’s kind of cute. She expected this reaction, but still she found herself pleasantly surprised. He really was too nice of a man for the dramatics he’d gotten himself into.

She gave him a small huff and let her eyes squint from the smile she had.

“Of course I did.” She gently folded her arms and leaned forward onto her bag, still watching him.

"I take it you like it," she said.

His smile widened, even though it seemed like he was trying to hide it.

"Yeah," he said. "I do."

“Good, ‘cause I was having a hell of a time trying to get it to look right,” she let her gaze fall on the carving. “I had fun doing the little curly shapes on the wings…”

Tiberius ran his fingertips over the wood, feeling the details she'd put into it.

"I'll treasure this," he said softly. "Thank you."

She lifted her eyes to see his face again. It made her happy to see him happy, with all he’d been through.

“You’re welcome,” she gently leaned over to bump her shoulder into his arm. “Sire Hemming,” she chuckled to herself.

Tiberius's eyes went wide for a split second before he burst into a short fit of giggles. Unfortunately, the laughter was short lived, as it resulted in him groaning and holding his side.

"I couldn't help myself," she said sadly, trying to hide her own laughing. "Sorry."

He groaned again, leaning back onto the tree behind him. He closed his eyes, holding the hawk in his hand.

"Couldn't have saved that for later?" he asked thinly. But she could see the smile still tugging at his lips.

“I’ve gotta be a nuisance somehow, you know,” she bumped him again.

"Undoubtedly," he said with a small huff through his nose.

He opened his eyes and looked back in his lap, once again turning the hawk over in his hands.

She smiled as she watched him examine her little creation. Thinking on it, she never anticipated becoming friends with him. It had just… happened. Maybe it was fate that put her here. Either way, she was grateful that she met him.

Even though her rescue had put them in more danger, somehow she felt that this friendship was worth the tribulations that had befallen them.

“Can I get a hug?” she asked quietly, a hint embarrassed.

Tiberius paused, and looked up to briefly meet her eyes.

"...Sure," he said, lifting one arm to welcome her in.

Warily, she ever so carefully turned and let herself hug him. While cracking a joke and make him cry laughing was one thing, accidentally hurting him with a hug was another.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, sinking into the hug. “I didn’t want to forget before we eventually parted ways. Not like you can just up and leave right now, but y’know…” she drifted off.

She could feel Tiberius's hand gently patting her back.

"I understand," he said quietly.

Not finding the words to say just yet, she simply sat there, letting herself relax.

She’d need to come to terms with him leaving eventually. This hug was one of the ways she would. It was a goodbye, but it was a goodbye with the hope that he would return again someday.

“You know, I was the one that helped you,” she slowly began. “But it feels like you’ve helped me too. So thank you.” Resisting the urge to squeeze him, she just rocked him to the side a little, swaying him back and forth.

She could feel his hold around her weakening, but he didn't pull away.

"You're welcome," he said, barely audible.

He felt tired. She carefully let him go, giving him a weak smile as she did.

“You should probably get some rest,” she said, eying his general posture. “I was out for hours. You and Jeremy can sleep.”

"I told Jeremy I'd keep watch," Tiberius said.

Tori’s smile turned into a frown.

“Yeah, and now I’m telling you I’ll keep watch. You’re the most beat up of all of us. You need the rest.”

Tiberius hesitated. She couldn't tell if it was because he was weighing the cost of arguing or if he was swallowing his pride.

"I... know," he said, stilted.

Tori opened her mouth to continue her ragging at him, but she heard a throat clear from across their little clearing. She made a glance that way.

Jeremy’s head poked out from behind the tree he was leaned up against. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t been sleeping at all. Hopefully he hadn’t been listening in on them for too long.

“You should do as she says,” Jeremy said, peering over at them out of the corner of his eye.

Tori looked back to Tiberius with a glint in her eye. Even Jeremy was siding with her. He wouldn't win.

Tiberius smiled weakly, but the smile was far from meeting his eyes. It looked more like a grimace.

"...Right," he said. "Well. I'm... going to need help lying down again."

“That’s fine,” Tori said quietly. “I can help with that.”

Tori readjusted herself, preparing to get up. She passed a glance across the clearing. Jeremy had hidden away behind his tree again. She sighed.

“Since someone is so busy sleeping,” she shook her head as she stood. “Let me grab your stuff off Elliot first though. Do you want any food?” she asked.

"No," Tiberius said simply. "Thank you."

She nodded, then turned to visit Elliot just nearby. He seemed to be hovering around Tiberius, but was otherwise content with his grazing. Him and Brenna both seemed to be oddly… wary.

The blanket wasn’t there. She remembered that they’d been using it the night before when Butch dropped in on them.

Before she could mourn a missing blanket though, she noticed it haphazardly folded up on the ground to their side, along with what looked like a dagger and another knife of Tiberius’s. Jeremy must have gone around and collected anything they’d dropped last night.

She collected the blanket and knives. The dagger was probably the one he’d dropped when she knocked him out last night. She stored the blades away in one of the saddlebags and came back to Tiberius.

“It looks like he found your knives from last night,” she said as she spread the blanket out on the ground for him.

His gaze drifted over, following her. He only hummed slightly.

She turned his way once she’d smoothed the blanket out. Inching up within reach, she knelt there, waiting for him to prepare for the movement. He tensed up his shoulders and sat up as much as he could manage.

Carefully, she slid her arms under his legs and about his shoulders to maneuver him onto the blanket. With one good heave, she managed to pick him up and set him down on his simple bed without injuring herself more than she already was.

Before she went to lay him down, she paused.

“I don’t know what side is best given the whole gaping wound on your back,” she said quietly.

From the blank look Tiberius gave her, she almost wondered if he even remembered getting wounded on his back.

"...You can lay me on my back," he decided.

With a hum of acknowledgement, she carefully lowered him onto his back.

"Say somethin' if you want to change positions or anything," she gave him a slight squint. "I don't mind helping so just... wave me down or poke me."

The moment she let go of him and he was prone on the ground, he let out a long sigh.

"Okay," he said simply, already closing his eyes.

She huffed in amusement.

Endeared by how comfortable he’d gotten around her, she smiled to herself and gave him a gentle head pat. She also took the opportunity to get a stray clump of hair off of his face.

“Goodnight,” she said quietly.

His eyes squinted open and he looked up at her, brows furrowing.

"Are you... fixing my hair?" he asked.

She swallowed, forcing down the embarrassment. It likely still showed in her sheepish pout.

With a hum, she acted like nothing had happened.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said blandly, trying to hide the pout.

Tiberius stared at her for a few seconds longer, saying nothing, and then he merely closed his eyes again. He seemed to be letting her off the hook for now.

Noticing the carving in his hand still, her smile returned. The little bird rested safely in his palm, nestled in the bandages and dried blood. She hoped he’d hold onto it for long time. That was a benefit of small items like that. You could carry them with you.

She wouldn’t take her chances any more, so she moved off the blanket and found herself a cozy spot to sit and keep watch.

Jeremy hadn’t made any other movement or sound, so she wasn’t sure if he was actually sleeping or not. Oh well.

The peace was a welcome relief as she listened to the birdsong of the forest.

The air was thick around him. No matter how many times he took in a breath, it was never enough to fill his lungs. Water was never enough to clear the taste of blood from his mouth. The fever he'd been trying to push back was clawing around his skull, digging into his forehead, burning behind his eyes.

Everything was blurry.

It had been some time since he'd stopped, but he couldn't recall how much time had passed. One moment, the sun had been overhead. Now the sunlight was waning, and he could feel himself swaying in Elliot's saddle. Elliot, beneath him, seemed antsy.

It felt unusual. He wasn't normally antsy. Not like this. Not when it was just the two of them.

Was something lurking in the shadows?

James grabbed the horn of his saddle and swung his legs off the side, landing on the ground with a thump. His legs didn't feel like they were a part of him anymore, nor did it feel like his feet were flush with the ground.

All at once, it felt like he weighed nothing, and yet his skull weighed everything.

Swaying, he took a few staggered steps to steady himself, and he found his dagger at his side, pulling it from its sheath.

"You sense something out there?" he muttered to Elliot. But Elliot only lowered his head, ears flattening. It set James further on edge, and his eyes darted around the forest, only able to take in the shapes and colors while details melted into the in-between.

Sweat began to drip into his eyes, and it was only then that he realized just how drenched he was.

Looking down at himself, he peeled a portion of his shirt away from his skin, realizing all of the sweat was his own. The air was dry and cool around him, and yet, he was burning up. The sensation of wet clothes against his skin was simultaneously cooling and freezing. Chills ran down his body, gripping every joint and every muscle with a deep ache, and his arm mildly spasmed, causing him to slouch forward.

He let out a laugh - or what was meant to be one - but it sounded more like a whimper to his own ears.

"Maybe we should take a break," James said, speaking to Elliot, even though he was only speaking to himself.

He didn't know why he was speaking. Who was listening? There was no one to talk to.

"You look tired," James said, spinning around to grab Elliot's saddle. Elliot craned his neck around, pulling away from him.

James swayed once more, this time too slow to readjust his feet and support his own weight. He stumbled to the forest floor. Dead leaves crunched beneath him, slipping under his boots. Somewhere beneath them, he could feel the cold, damp, mud - like the earth was trying to compensate for him as he became a fire, slowly burning out.

Pawing at the ground, James tried to find where his dagger had fallen, but all he found were leaves and mud.

The world around him was spinning, and he knew he couldn't keep kidding himself any longer. This was how it was going to end, wasn't it? In a feverish delirium, alone, on the forest floor. And Elliot would be found with a dead man - if he was even found at all. Somehow he found himself grieving more for Elliot than himself. No, he didn't grieve for himself at all.

He deserved this. This should've ended years ago.

James didn't know for how long he laid there with his face in the dirt, but it felt like only mere seconds passed before the fire in his head began to burn up the rest of his body, and soon, even the cold ground wasn't enough to cool him down.

Panting, suddenly dying of a thirst he hadn't realized he'd had, he began to rip off his jacket, desperate to cool down. But it wasn't enough.

His hands shook with uncontrollable tremors as he yanked away his boots, his socks, and ripped his shirt over his head. It felt like he was peeling away a layer of skin, and once he was left to his underwear, he felt raw, like every part of him was an open wound, exposed to the air, festering.

His arm continued to spasm - the muscles didn't seem to care, nor did they listen, and when he tried to keep it from twitching and twisting, it only triggered a pain he'd forgotten. Muddy fingers dug into his bandaged arm, and he stared with bleary eyes as he pulled his fingers away, seeing blood.

He was back on the ground, face-down, unable to move from the weight sitting on top of him. Blood dripped down the back of his head, down his neck, into his ear. Something was digging into his shoulder. Over. And over.

James stared up at the sky, forgetting when it'd become dark, and the stars took over.

He reached up towards the moon, cupping it in his hand, even as his fingers refused to uncurl from the trigger.

"Get off the horse," he said, hearing his own words echo in his head.

He couldn't pull the trigger. Maybe he should've. He hated that he even considered it.

The moon fell into shadow, and James's arm fell to his side. He let go of the gun. He let go of the dagger. He decided to let go completely.

All of this... just to get away. Only to die alone.

Was it worthless, then? If he was doomed to die anyway?

Letting his eyes droop, he let the world around him turn to darkness. He knew he wasn't going to survive this. He could feel the blood pooling at his side, seeping through the bandage. Leaking and spilling underneath him. He could feel his head throbbing from behind, constantly pounding with its own hearbeat.

He was weak, and he couldn't even help himself.

As a haze began to settle over him, he found that his last remaining desperate wish was simply to never wake up again, and that no one would find him.

He could finally rest.

The undergrowth of the Outlands forest had grown thick and ratty. Traveling straight into the woods though, this was to be expected. It was far off a beaten path they’d abandoned two days prior. They were out here to hide, so this was a positive point. Well, Tori tried to think positively.

She carefully picked away some burrs and small twigs that had collected on Brenna’s mane. Even though the two of them had been on the run for a week or so now, Brenna didn’t seem to be bothered by it. She was a bounty hunter’s horse at one point, so she was likely used to this sort of action before Tori stepped in as her new owner. That was four years ago, give or take a few months. They’d been together since then.

With a solemn shake of her head, Tori slid off her saddle to join Jeremy just ahead of her. He was parting the way for her and Brenna to move forward, but even with his experience bushwhacking, he was struggling to displace a tangle of thorn bushes they’d stopped at.

“I’ll get your left,” she said, slinking under his arm to get in front of him. The motion caused him to cease his shoving at the brush and pass a glance her way. He was content to let her into his space, so she joined him at his side.

They exchanged a glance. A gentle smile grew under his mustache as his gaze drifted upward from her eyes. Before she could ask what the matter was, he began flicking some tree droppings from her hair.

“Hey,” she swatted at his hand, hiding a grin. Jeremy let out a throaty chuckle when she knocked his hand away. He knew what he was doing. “I know you like the short hair, but you can play with it later,” she teased. “Why’d you let go of the bush?”

He pulled out his knife. “I’m giving up,” he shrugged at the aforementioned bush to his side. “I doubt anyone is going to stumble across the mess anyway,” he turned and carefully sunk his arm deep into the bush to cut at the limb that was causing them issue.

Tori simply sighed in resignation as he worked, waiting patiently until she could help, thinking on her companion. He had missed her. Every time she found him looking her way, she could see the adoration in his eyes, still just as pure as it was the day they first met. Thinking back on it, they had been through hell and back just after Tiberius had disappeared on them. Something about the stress and pain they endured in that time seemed to draw them closer. She was grateful for Jeremy and his patience.

They worked separate jobs now, doing their best to avoid the notice of bounty hunters and the kingdom. Jeremy’s job was something of a hunter, but she never fully understood what the specifics were. She worked deep in the Outlands, often as hired help and protection for trading caravans.

A few weeks ago, they were supposed to have met along the river near Bint, at a cabin that they’d fixed up together. They planned specific days out of the year to rendezvous and their meetings had been going smoothly until someone recognized her on her last job. In the process of her running and covering her trail, the date had flown right by.

Thankfully Jeremy was a good tracker and found her. Some smaller name hunters had found her at the same time though, so the two of them fled, escaping into the forest.

Jeremy’s now distant voice broke her out of thought. “There’s a small clearing,” he called. He had already cut the thorn bush and traveled further ahead, now peering through a clump of shedding trees. Tori and Brenna joined him at his side moments later.

“Might be a good place to stop for the night then,” Tori said, giving him a pat on the back. “We’ve been at this all day.”

Jeremy simply hummed. His head slowly turned, his gaze skimming through the trees. He was distracted by something. She quietly leaned forward so that they could meet eyes, giving him a questioning look.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“I smell something,” he said, meeting her eyes for but a second before returning to his lookout. “It keeps coming and going. I can’t tell what it is yet, so it’s probably not that far off, with the wind the way it is…”

“Well, I doubt it’s at this clearing.” Tori patted his back, feeling the tension in his shoulders. “Let’s get there. Then we can figure out what it is. If we have to change course, thats fine.”

With some hesitation, Jeremy nodded and returned to his path-making. Along with her help, the two of them finally made it to the clearing, Brenna stepping out of the brush behind them to shake off bugs and leaves. Jeremy continued on, stopping at the edge of the clearing to stare intently into the trees.

After a moment, he looked back towards her, beckoning her over with a motion of the head. Tori reluctantly obeyed.

“It smells like blood,” he said in a low voice as she approached.

Her eyes widened briefly. “Like animal blood? Something dead?”

“Human,” he said bluntly, meeting her eyes. The wrinkle down the middle of his forehead was pronounced, likely owing to the unease he felt. “It isn’t anyone that’s after us,” he assured. Tori sighed in relief.

“I’m going,” he announced. “There’s a deer trail here that leads toward it, so it shouldn’t take long.” He was already stepping into the brush and marching off at a brisk pace toward the source of the smell.

“I’m coming too,” Tori huffed, promptly calling Brenna over with a click of the tongue. Once Brenna was with her, they followed behind him in an attempt to catch up. He had gotten so far ahead already, and was practically out of sight, only the distant brush rustling around to give him away.

Eventually they came across the deer trail as Jeremy had said there would be. His senses truly baffled her. A few years ago, he had revealed that he was a werewolf, which explained how easily he could track things down compared to the average person. Unfortunately, just like mages, werewolves were hunted down and killed because of the “danger” they posed, so he had to live undercover and keep his history hidden. She was simply thankful he wasn’t working for bounty hunters, because that would be a nightmare to run from.

After a short while of trekking along the trail, her and Brenna finally found Jeremy. He had cut into the brush, just to the side of the trail. He was slightly bent over, leaned against a tree for support.

“What happened?” she called, quickly leaving Brenna behind on the trail to claw through the brush to his side. She shoved the limbs of the tree away from him so she could see him better. He had a hand over his face, covering his nose and mouth.

“There’s a horse, but I—“ he gagged. “I can’t take it anymore.”

She didn’t smell anything herself just yet, so she wasn’t sure where to look. With how it sounded, whoever it was should be right here. Scanning ahead, she found a golden horse with a pale mane, loitering about not too far away, partially obscured by the brush and trees. It appeared antsy.

“I’m going to go look. I won’t go further than the horse if I don’t find anyone, Ok?” she patted Jeremy’s back as a display of sympathy. Heightened senses were the downside of situations like this, it seemed.

Before Jeremy could muster the voice to protest, she started off for the horse, powering through the brush and past another tree. As she drew around the tree, the horse’s head flicked her way, ears perked up. She stopped short so she wouldn’t spook it, and drew a few vegetables from her bag.

“Hey, It’s ok. I’m friendly,” she called out gently, holding up the snacks so it could see. The horse raised its head, focused on her food. Once she saw the attention shift from her to the food, she tossed the vegetables, landing them a few feet away from it. It didn’t take too long before it dipped down, presumably to smell out what she threw at it.

It looked to have a full set of tack and plenty of additional gear and saddlebags attached. The rider couldn’t be far. Perhaps they had gotten hurt.

Over the course of the next minute or so, she eased closer to the horse, carefully, cautiously. As she drew near, she entered into a small patch of flat ground that was so small it didn’t really classify as a clearing to her. It was more like a junction of animal trails, covered in fallen leaves and sticks. Beneath the horse was a man laying on his back, stripped bare of clothing save for his shorts. His chest was covered in bandaged wounds that still looked fresh. Leaves from the trees above were sprinkled over him, beginning to bury the sight of him in the forest floor.

She froze in place, horrified at the sight. That was the source of the smell. Warily stepping closer, she noted a dagger out of reach and clothing strewn about. Blood pooled at his side. His face was swollen, covered in bruising. He looked like he’d been attacked.

“Oh gods,” she said aloud, kneeling at his side. She pushed the initial horror aside, checking for a pulse at his neck with her fingertips. His skin was hot to the touch, the pulse rapid and heavy. At the very least he wasn’t dead, but at this rate he would be soon.

She got to her feet and backtracked through the brush, leaving the man and his horse behind to find Jeremy. He had gotten himself out of the brush and back onto the trail with Brenna when she arrived. He was holding onto her saddle for support.

“Well?” he prodded, desperate to know what she’d discovered.

“I found them,” Tori said as she slicked her hair back with a hand. “But he’s injured and has a fever. He needs help.” She met Jeremy’s eyes, silently pleading with him. He looked hesitant at first. After a moment to think, his features softened.

“I trust you, Tori,” he said with a gentle nod toward her. “I still need a minute, but I should be able to handle the smell soon.” He gave her a weak smile of assurance that soon faded. “Will we need to stay here?”

“I’m… not sure yet. There’s… a lot of blood,“ she said quietly. “I’ll check him out and see if I can get a gander on what to do. I really liked that clearing we were at…” she sighed. “I’ll be back.” Jeremy just nodded in agreement as she came up to him and Brenna.

With Jeremy duly informed, she snagged her bag from her things along with her first aid supplies and dove into the forest once more.

“Alright,” she huffed to herself as she returned to the mini-clearing. The golden horse seemed unfazed by her return, watching her step up to the man. “What all is wrong with you besides the obvious…” she sighed as knelt down at the man’s side once more.

She wanted to take inventory of everything as well as she could without bothering the bandaging. There was blood seeping through all of them, so it wasn’t hard to figure out where the injuries were. His neck was bandaged, bleeding from the side, front, and down his back. There was a wound at his shoulder that was still bright with blood, two long gashes across his chest that had bleed through in the shape of an X, and two more on his belly and side.

Okay. His front looked manageable if she needed to move him, but she’d need to watch out for the shoulder. She leaned over him and gingerly checked underneath it, seeing that his shoulder was bleeding through the back side as well. Either a gunshot or stab wound, it appeared. She sighed warily, forcing herself to gloss past the blood that had gathered below.

“I’m going to have to move you a bit, I’m sorry in advance if I hurt you,” she said gently. Carefully reaching underneath him, she prepared to lift him so she could check his back. With a heave, she half rolled him over, resting him on his (hopefully) uninjured shoulder. She heard him rasp in pain with the movement, but beyond that, he was still dead weight, forcing her to push against him to keep him in this position.

Blood in the leaves told her that he was bleeding from the back of his head. Wary of disturbing the wound for fear of it opening much more, she brushed his hair aside, searching for it. A gash of some kind, it looked like. Fresh blood had gotten everywhere from it, so it had to have been deep or recent. She let his hair fall, obscuring it.

Her eyes drifted downward to search for anything else. Before she got far at all, she saw it.

A brand. Butch’s brand. The one she had tended to years ago.

Her mouth dropped open.

It couldn’t be. Ever so gently, she laid him on his back once more, her eyes immediately moving to his arms and legs. Seeing all the healed scars she had missed, she covered her mouth with her hands. The cuts from Reed on his arms, the gash in his left leg, along with other scars she didn’t recognize.

It was him, without a doubt.

She blinked hard and leaned closer, gaze shifting to his face. It was hard to see the scars through the bruising, but they were there. Her lips drew tightly together as she fought back the swirling emotions. Gently brushing his longer hair from his brow with a hand caused sweat and dirt to coat her fingertips.

It had been so long since she saw Tiberius last. He had vanished without warning on her and Jeremy four years ago. She knew he was still alive this whole time, because his posters were still up, albeit the occasional update in appearance as the years passed. Even though she didn’t expect his life to be easygoing moving forward, she didn’t expect to find him again like this. Unresponsive, sick, alone, and an easy step from death, he was helpless.

Despite not wanting to, she shifted from mourning to planning. Forcing herself to take deep breaths, she dug into her med kit and found that she had far too little to completely tend to the open wounds. She’d have to get them to a stable state, and make do with what she had. There was a lot that needed work, particularly the active bleed on his head and side. She felt exhausted already at the thought of all the work and the strain it would put on her from healing.

Her discovery of the ability to heal had come to her violently. It was a stress response that triggered it, about three years ago. Well, the power wasn’t exclusively healing, but rather a transfer of energy of sorts. She still didn’t fully understand it.

Small-scale injuries like cuts and scrapes didn’t bother her to heal. It was deep wounding that caused her to feel a sensation akin to drug highs, but… different. The anxiety and overwhelming dread would blossom into something else over time. Something gentler, freeing, that was the feeling she remembered from her first experience, and that was the feeling that overwhelmed her to the point of others needing to step in and stop her.

She sighed, embracing the fear and letting it go. She’d gotten better at healing over the years, using her own energy rather than the land, since healing from anywhere but herself would lead into the anxiety sensation, or worse. She’d also worked on pacing herself. Healing as an art was an aid to the normal healing process, not the cure itself. He’d need time, and rest.

Now that she was prepared, she scooted closer to his side so she could reach the back of his head with her hands. Gently, she poked her fingers into his hair, parting it aside so that she could see better. Once she found the gash, she placed her hand on it and began to focus her energy toward it. The familiar glow grew warm in her hand, and she soon felt the draw on her as the energy began to flow into him.

Taking steady breaths, she let herself focus on simply stopping the bleeding.

After a short while, the oozing had finally slowed to a stop. Before she healed any more, she lifted her hand. With a weak smile, she admired her meager work in the now fading glow. Not too bad, all things considered.

She had stopped herself soon enough she could touch on the wound at his side as well before she needed a full break. Shifting position, she reoriented herself above his side and gave herself a minute or two to relax before she continued.

It was only a second after sitting down that he started to stir.

With a faint groan, he turned his head in her direction, one eye half open and unfocused, the other swollen shut.

She had been watching the trees above them, but at the sound of his groan, she looked down. He may not recognize her after all this time, so she stayed quiet and as harmless appearing as possible, her hands visible in her lap.

Staring vaguely in her direction, but more through her than at her, he let out a pained whimper.

"Amy?" he croaked, barely audible.

Her heart sank. She wasn't quite sure he was even properly looking at her. Unsure of how to even respond with the state he seemed to be in, she just searched his face.

It was then that she realized he definitely wasn't looking at her. He seemed focused on... something next to her. But there was nothing there. She swallowed.

"You came back," he said, his voice raspy and thin.

She had to at least try to speak to him.

"Hey." Tori cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, but I'm not Amy," she said tentatively.

There was a split second's delay as his gaze drifted, finally meeting hers.

He didn't say anything, but his stare was fixed on her face.

"I'm Tori," she spoke clearly for him. "I don't know if you remember me, but we're friends. It's ok if you don't remember."

Tiberius let out a pained huff of air through his nose.

"How could I forget?" he said, his voice wavering.

Her lips pressed tightly together as she faintly smiled down at him. She felt as though he wasn't well enough mentally to recognize her yet. Preparing for the inevitability of this, she let the time be for him to simply get a grip of the surroundings. If he was seeing things, it was probably best to keep things as calm as possible too.

"Yeah? It's been a long time," she replied. "I... need to heal up your side, if that's alright with you."

His face tensed, though it was hard to make out much of a true expression with half of his face swollen and bruised.

"No," he whispered with a weak desperation. "You have to... you have to go. Please."

He closed his eye, his breaths quickening.

"You should've left me the first time," he said, his voice fraying into silence.

She was not going to take no for an answer.

"I didn't leave you the first time because I put my faith in you, Tiberius. It was worth it, and I cherish every moment of the time we spent together," she said, leaning in as she spoke. "I'm not leaving you."

“Now,” she said firmly but gently. “I’m going to have to hold your side over here in order to stop the bleeding. It won’t be for long.”

She set her hand over the wound, fingers touching the surrounding skin, hot and inflamed. As she began to heal, she expected him to protest against it. Predictably, he tensed at the touch, but he seemed too weak to do much more than whimper with helpless desperation, as if he were begging her to stop. But as the bleeding in his side finally came to an end and the wound started to close, Tiberius's eyes rolled back into his head and his mouth parted open. Unconscious once again, his body went limp.

With a shallow sigh, she took her hand away. Realizing she was sitting in a twisted position over him, she straightened up and took a breath.

This was going to be difficult for both of them. For Tiberius, the struggle would be simply healing. For her, she’d need to focus on de-escalating his weighty emotions. It hurt her to see him this way.

At least now that the immediate danger of him bleeding out was curbed, she could spend the evening recovering. Healing wore her out, but the usual rest and recuperation helped her to recharge. Maybe she could convince Jeremy to take first watch tonight, after they ate.

Speaking of Jeremy, she heard him and Brenna finally approaching from a distance away. She probably wouldn’t see them until they were practically at the edge of this small clearing. For fear of Tiberius waking with a start, she got herself to her feet and stepped into the brush a few paces to meet Jeremy. His usual stone face grew worried once he laid eyes on her.

“I take it you needed to heal him,” he spoke gently, slowing to a stop with Brenna. It was hard to hide the exhaustion in her posture and face. He definitely saw it in her.

“Yeah… There’s not much I can do to avoid it,” she shrugged. “He was bleeding out. I needed to stop it.” She shuffled up to him and leaned into his chest. His arms wrapped about her. He gave her a good squeeze, then loosened his hold.

“I see.” He peered over her shoulder, presumably analyzing Tiberius on the ground behind her. Elliot was still loitering nearby. “The horse looks familiar, now that I’m here,” he said slowly.

Tori felt a smile, albeit a sad one, grow in her cheeks. She pulled away to see his expression. “Anything else look familiar?”

Jeremy paid her a wary squint, then let his gaze return to the scene. He stood there for a good minute, eyes shifting about and then finally growing wide. He let out a thick huff through his nose.

“All I can see is a huge pile of money laying in the dirt with his horse,” he joked, looking to her once more.

Tori nodded slowly, her smile grew weak and pained even though she was trying not to look sad. Her depressing countenance prompted him to pull her in close again. As she rested her chin on his shoulder and leaned her head against his, he rubbed her back.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said quietly. “How long do you think he’ll need before we can move him? He looks worse off than when I found you both after Butch.”

Interestingly, Jeremy had assumed that she wanted to stay. That was one small concern out of the way, at least.

“I don’t know yet. At least two or three days,” she said, finally lifting her arms to hug him back. “It looks like he was caught up with a bounty hunter again,” her voice grew quieter. “We’ll have to stay alert if we’re going to camp out here.” Jeremy nodded at this.

“Another thing,” she said as she eased out of the hug. “I think his fever is severe enough that he’s hallucinating. He was talking to someone that clearly isn’t here. It may be best to leave him alone, beyond healing that is, until he’s recovered enough. I didn’t expect you to bother him, but just in case,” she sighed.

“I understand.” He gave her a solid pat on the shoulder. “He won’t have to worry about me. I’ll be too busy watching the area for anyone following us anyway.” He smiled meekly as he smoothed a hand across his beard. “Maybe I can find us a better place to camp out at the same time, for when we do relocate.”

Tori gave him another smile, this one more confident than the last. “Thank you. For now though…” she drifted off, turning in place to look back at Elliot and Tiberius. “…let’s just… sit and eat before it gets too dark. I’m exhausted, and I’m sure Brenna and Elliot over here could use some snacks too.”

Over the course of the next few days, Tori spent most of her waking hours tending to Tiberius. When she wasn’t healing him, she was eating or sleeping. The rest didn’t last for long before he’d start talking to himself or he’d start in on bemoaning her healing work. There were a couple times she had to stop him from moving for fear of him getting up. While he had begun to recognize some semblance of her as the Tori he knew, it was a delusional recognition. To him, she was the Tori he knew four years ago.

His hysterics were wearing her thin, eroding away her own state of mind. She was so exhausted from healing and tending to him that she found a great difficulty in taking care of herself. Jeremy usually returned from his hours-long surveys to shift into supporting her as best he could. All this not including the underlying anxiety from her and Jeremy’s pursuers, nor Tiberius’s. There hadn’t been any sign of them, which worried her.

Several times today, Jeremy offered to keep watch over Tiberius so she could stretch her legs. He was insistent she took a break. When she finally accepted defeat, she didn’t wander far off. However, she went far enough that he couldn’t see her pull out a small handbag from her main bag. From within it, she retrieved a bottle of pills. She tried not to smoke when she was with Jeremy over the years, so these were her only option at the moment.

Down one went. That should ease the pain that had been growing in her chest over the last few days. It was an awful scar from a few years ago, two cuts close to her heart that had almost ended her life. It always ached, but the pain easily became unbearable if she physically overexerted herself. It was too easy to overdo it with healing. She often caught herself honed in on the process, unaware of how much time had truly passed. Only after her hands would shake did she realize how much work she’d done on Tiberius.

She sat down in the leaves, returning her meds to the depths of her bag. Then she bent over with her head in her hands. Propped up by a knee, she waited patiently for the throbbing in her ribs to ease.

“Tori,” Jeremy’s gentle voice entered her consciousness. She felt her hair brushed from her forehead, and then a gentle nudge at her shoulder. “Wake up.”

She’d fallen asleep.

“Aw shit,” she moaned, pushing herself up from where she’d tipped over. She pried her bleary eyes open to see Jeremy knelt over her. His hand extended to help her to her feet. Once upright, she held his arm for support for a moment before she released him to stand on her own.

“Sorry. I’m more worn out than I thought,” she mumbled to herself, rubbing an eye.

“You’ve got to pace yourself, Tori. Just because you can ‘heal for a minute or two’ doesn’t mean you should…” She sighed, letting his concerned words drift by. Jeremy didn’t scold her often, but when he did, at least it was polite enough in tone that it was easy to tune out. “…maybe set morning and evening sessions so you don’t overdo it,” he finished.

Tori nodded guiltily. He seemed unaware that her spontaneous nap was due to the pain medication she took. She didn’t want to worry him with it, so this was for the better.

Together they returned to their small camp. Jeremy promptly left to go scout again, and Tori found herself engrossed in routine once more.

During the time she was spending with Tiberius, she was able to analyze his features more closely. Leaning in to inspect, she found his face looked older, wrinkles in places like Jeremy had. The strongest ones were between his brows and on his forehead. Then there were some at the corners of his eyes. She knew his sight wasn’t the best, so he probably had a lot of these from squinting at everything. Part of the aged appearance she owed to his fever and heavy bags under his eyes.

His beard was fuller than she remembered. His neck had grown thick with it, as well as up his cheeks. It looked like it had been a while since he’d properly shaved these down. There was an annoyed itch inside of her, begging her to borrow Jeremy’s razor from his things. It would only take just a minute or two. As much as she wanted to, she resisted the temptation for today. Maybe she could commission Jeremy to help tomorrow.

Instead of shaving his beard for him in his sleep, she settled for a less damaging idea.

A short while later, his hair was detangled and cleared of miscellaneous debris. He’d woken up in the process, muttering things that she couldn’t understand.

While she thought on what to do with his hair next, she put her hand to the back of his head to heal for a moment. She knew it felt soothing from his perspective, so hopefully it would lull him back to sleep.

She couldn’t do braids properly, but she still had the muscle memory of twisting Gisa’s curly hair into rope-like strands. Maybe she could manage something like that for him, to keep his hair out of his face.

When she returned her focus to Tiberius, she found that he had let his head hang to the side into her hand. Instead of her palm fully over the wound, she was now supporting more the side of his head. He didn’t look as disgruntled about the healing at the moment. Eyes closed as if he were asleep once more, he quietly laid there, soaking it in. She was happy to see him embracing it for once.

Once he’d fallen back asleep, she took her hand away so that she could get to work with his hair. She carefully brought as much as she could to one side. Finding where his hair parted, she began to gently twirl bits of hair in her fingers, adding more to her hands as she slowly brought the “braid” behind his ear and to the back of his neck. She kept it loose enough that it didn’t create undue tension. She pulled some twine from her bag and tied the end together, then gently laid the braid down.

The braid would probably come undone if he rustled about too much, but it wasn’t time consuming, so she could just redo it if that happened.

Four more days passed, but to Tori, it just felt like one extremely long day. Every chance she got, she took something to aid her sleep or wakefulness. She felt the anxiety from the overuse building in her bones, rattling her to her core. It told her repeatedly that she’d made a mistake. It would be the death of her if she kept this up. She knew it was true, but there was no changing path for now. Seeing his fever break as quickly as possible was all that mattered to her currently.

Jeremy came and went.

Tiberius rose and fell from sleep.

The horses came to her periodically, Brenna to Tori, and Elliot to Tiberius. Brenna politely bothered her like Jeremy did, pulling her out of mindless trances to nudge her and breathe in her face. If Elliot had been up for a while, Tori would watch him lay down beside Tiberius, resting along with him.

It was afternoon. The sun was at its strongest, beating down on her. Even though it was fall, it felt like summer with how stifling it was. Earlier on in the day, she’d stripped of her jacket and long sleeved shirt to breathe better in the hot and humid air.

She’d gotten a headache some days ago, she couldn’t remember when exactly.

Jeremy wasn’t back yet, it felt like he’d left hours ago.

She rummaged through supplies with Brenna to find a bite to eat.

When consciousness returned to her, she was staring out at the trees, sideways in her vision. She pulled her hand limply from her side, looking at the dirt and small pebbles that had lodged themselves in her hand. She’d fallen, but any sensation of pain had yet to start.

Brenna watched her cautiously from above, alarmed at the sudden change of position her owner took. With a groan, Tori sat herself up. She didn’t know how long it was before Brenna gently nudged her in the shoulder, pushing her to the side a bit. The feeling of the nudge wasn’t there, but she saw her vision shift to the side. She turned to her, eyes heavy.

“I think I accidentally took too much, Bren,” Tori chuckled to herself in pity, pulling the horse’s head in close to nuzzle with her. “I can’t feel nothin’, and I’m so tired.”

She stayed that way with her for a while, until Brenna’s existence eventually disappeared from her hold.

“Tori. Wake up,” Jeremy’s voice sounded out. He woke her the same way every time, didn’t he? Her eyes peeled open, not seeing anything at first. “Tori,” he said again. She felt his grip on her arm move about, rustling her.

“I’m up. I’m up,” she pleaded, sending out a hand out to search for him. He took it in his with a sudden snatch.

“Hey—you almost got me in the eye,” he protested, letting her hand go. She could hear him chuckle a bit in amusement.

“Sorry.”

What time even was it? It was afternoon when she last remembered. She couldn’t have passed out that badly. She groaned to herself, trying to remember anything between then and now, but there was nothing to remember.

“I found you passed out earlier,” Jeremy said quietly. “Normally I wouldn’t let you sleep this long, but I think you needed it. You were out cold.”

His figure started to come into view as her eyes adjusted to the night. The stars were out, faintly seen through the canopy above them.

“Ah,” she sighed. “I guessed right then.”

“Do you think you can handle watch?” he asked. “It’ll be until dawn.”

“It’s that late already?…” she groaned again, propping herself up. She felt pain shoot through her ribs, and she couldn’t hide the wince of pain. The meds had definitely worn off.

Jeremy helped her to fully sit up and move to a tree by Tiberius with her coat and blanket. She could see the clearing now. It was dimly lit, barely enough to see anything save for the darker masses of horse and human.

“Thank you,” she whispered to Jeremy, still knelt at her side.

Before he left to lay down, he leaned in and kissed her. “Goodnight, Tori.”

“Goodnight, Jeremy,” she retorted, patting his shoulder. “Get some sleep now.”

Then he left, and soon she was listening to two sets of breathing in the dark.

Tiberius was sleeping soundly. His breaths were deep and stable. It sounded like he was actually recovering. She hadn’t thought much on it yet, partially because she’d gotten herself so wound up in caring for him over the last week. His fever had started to drop too.

An occasional chilling breeze tugged away the leaves of the trees, raining them down around them, pattering gently to the ground. She took a deep breath of her own and leaned back into the tree, sinking into her coat and blanket.